#also technically I needed to take this a YEAR ago but they only host this class every other year so. I got unlucky...

[links-studies]

I've been getting into doing my homework digitally lately using Notion, since it's a lot easier to type and use equations on there than it is for most of the other programs I've tried. I also feel like I'm saving a lot of time & saving my hand a lot of pain from having to sit there and write equations for pages and pages despite my disabilities haha.

[spotaus]

Everyone say hello to DreamEater AU's very own Dream! (And Fresh!) Otherwise known as Tulpa!

This AU is technically a Dream × Fresh ship story, but honestly it could be taken as Platonic because I view them both as aroace kings 👌. (This is alao Extremely self-indulgent lmao-) I'm gonna put more under the cut + close-ups but what is important is:

Dream is badly injured by Dust and ends up in a random AU after a messy retreat from battle. Fresh stumbles across him in need of a new host and attempts to take over Dream. Dream isn't a normal monster though, and he fights the hostile take-over. His soul doesn't decay like a normal monster's when Fresh feeds, so they end up coming to an agreement to share the body while Dream heals.

SO!!!

The DreamEater au comes from an idea I had years ago. Dream is injured, and it leaves him badly paralyzed while he recovers. In the old concept Fresh just nursed him back to health. In the DreamEater AU, Fresh is actively using Dream's unique vessel to his own advantage. It's like finding a body that fits him like a glove, and so he's content to just keep it. Until, of course, Dream becomes conscious again.

Fresh successfully takes Dream's body for a week or so before Dream is lucid again as a soul, and he tries to reason with Fresh to give him back control. He explains what happened and why he needs to get back. Fresh explains that he's going to keep being a parasite and no way he's giving up the perfect body. It's a long back and forth before Fresh relents and let's Dream take control again, only for him to collapse. Dream can't feel anything from his neck down due to where he'd been injured.

Fresh takes over again, and Dream just kinda lingers along with Fresh, staying in the passenger's seat of the body. He is stressed and worried but knows now that it'll take ages for him to heal anyways. By letting Fresh roam he can see the state of the multiverse at least.

And as things go on, the balance keeps tipping. Farther and farther in Night's direction. It's palpable. Then one night Fresh talks with Dream. It's small-talk, but it turns out he thinks Dream's soul will keep going forever if he can be around happy people. Dream explains that without him to do guardian work there are less abd less of those positive people to feed him so Fresh can keep going.

So, Fresh agrees to help Dream return to his duty, but only minimally since he's extremely injured.

Dream returns most of his wardrobe, and Fresh controls his body while Dream directs him and takes over control of his skull. Any weird actions are chalked up to recovering from his injury. Blue and Ink are thrilled to see him again. All is well for a bit, and though Fresh holds Dream back sometimes, he ends up actually being really good for Dream's mental health by not letting him overwork or stress about things he doesn't need to. Dream teaches Fresh how to use a bow, how to fight with a staff, etc. They become... friends? At least while they help eachother. Having Fresh tag along doesn't hurt Dream at all, and Fresh loves his free buffet of Dream.

Blue is the first one to notice Fresh, but he's not actively hurting Dream so he says nothing.

It's hinted when m, during a fight with NM's gang, someone curses and It's censored. Everyone is on edge because many of them don't like Fresh, and the bttle dispurses quickly afterwards.

It's revealed on a day that Dream is ambushed on an errand and Fresh takes forceful control so he can Fresh-Poof out of the way. Dream's Soul is shown in the other eyelight that's normally dark, and Fresh takes full control just to skate around the gang, teasing and evading them. Dream wasn't happy, but he was grateful after the fact. Everyone knew after that, and Dream started to agree that without it being a secret, Fresh could change up the wardrobe.

Eventually Dream heals almost fully. At that point, Fresh tries not to get involved with NM's conflicts. He also swaps in and out of control with Dream seamlessly throughout an average day. They become actual friends, talking over eachother and playfully swapping control. And eventually that becomes an agreed partnership. Ink doesn't approve of having Fresh around all the time, but he's Dream's closest companion besides Blue, so he stays.

Point is, they care a lot about eachother, even when they started out so tense. They keep eachother safe for selfish reasons, and for their bond.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"We're still on break, got it?"

“Y/n?” a female voice is muffled by the sound of the music outside. Fixing my curls, I tighten the strap of my two-piece before turning to Yoona, the host of the nightclub I’m currently working at. Very odd pairing, I know, I’m still not sure how I got the job, but it’s quick money, right? It’s only been a few weeks since I started, but I still cringe over the idea of satisfying the male gaze, so, I try to numb that part of my consciousness at work. As far as I’m concerned, this is temporary, just until I can pay off my mom’s hospital bills. She was diagnosed with Diabetes a month ago and had to be hospitalized for treatment, which unfortunately, as with everything in this capitalistic world was not free. 

Cut scene to the present time, I’ve learned to somewhat navigate this nightlife business, learning a few tips and tricks from the other girls, who are way older than me but are also struggling financially. I guess we are all just trauma-bonded in the end. To be quite frank, money wasn’t the only thing that fueled this decision of mine. Today also marks a month since Jungkook and I decided to take a break from our relationship. Nothing really happened aside from the fact that I was stood up and caught him with another girl, the usual plot, right? Anyway, I think this job came to me as a source of distraction, dissociating myself from reality until the thoughts in my head outscream the DJ at the front. Why didn’t we just break up, altogether? Fair question. Well, based on Jungkook’s words, he was meant to “change” over this period of separation and supposedly “can’t bear to lose me”, or something like that.  We’ll see, he’ll either be my everything or yet another lesson. 

“Someone is here for you. They’ve booked out a VIP room?” Yoona sounds and looks unsure, resting her head on the door frame before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Who? Is it Mark? I told the security not to let him in anymore,” I say almost irritated by the mere thought of that man. Ugh, he was the epitome of a manchild, always whining and demanding everything to go his way. I’m sorry, but my dignity will not be negotiated over money. I would rather die poor than have someone walk all over me because they can. 

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. It’s so busy out there, you know with Valentine's Day and all,” she sighs, rubbing her temples. Oh, right. It’s also my first Valentine's without Jungkook in about two years. Just more fuel to the fire, I guess. 

“That’s okay Yoona, thanks for letting me know,” I reassure her with a soft smile, taking a deep breath before heading out. She wasn’t lying, the club is full to the brim. Every corner is occupied by a man with a stack of dollar bills in his hands, surrounded by bottles of champagne and naked bodies. 

Knock Knock Knock 

“Hello … what? What are you doing here, Jeon?” I almost yelp, jumping from the sight of his rested form on the velvet couch. Those naked bodies that I mentioned before, well, turns out I wasn’t an exception, covered in nothing but a lacey two-piece bedazzled with fake rhinestones. So, you could imagine the panic in my eyes, as I tried to pathetically hide behind a nearby curtain. Technically, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen already, but now it’s different. 

“I don’t know, what do people usually come here to do?” Jungkook grins, stretching his body before resting his head on his tattooed hand. 

“How did you find me?” I snap, still behind the curtain, too ashamed to come out. 

“Does it really matter if I’m already here?” there is a distinct hint of lure in his tone as his eyes focus on my furrowed expression. 

“Stop playing. I told you we needed a break,” I snap again, only this time with my body fully exposed to his visual field. Crossing my arms over my chest, I walk towards him, determined to prove that I in fact am not flustered by his presence. 

“I am on a break … and it’s pretty relaxing so far if I say so myself,” Jungkook grins, eyeing me up and down before leaning his arms on his knees, moving in closer. 

“Well, I’m not dancing for you if that’s what you want,” I scoff, rolling my eyes at his teasing sense of humour. 

“That’s okay, I don’t want you to dance,” he reassures with a soft smile, except nothing about him or this situation is soft. Suffocating at best. 

“Then what exactly do you want?” 

“Sit on my lap, y/n, and we’ll see what happens next,” he says hushedly, hooded gaze looking up at my scattering eyes as his hands trace up my thighs. 

“Fuck off Jungkook,” I try to walk away until his grasp on my arm tightens, pulling me back onto his lap. Now, inches away from each other, there is virtually no air to breathe. 

“Careful love, you know I only ask nicely once,” he whispers into my ear, softly nibbling on the skin before looking back at my flushed face.  

“Let me go, Koo,” I insist with my gaze still lowered as I try to push myself out of his grip. 

“Mhmm … Koo. I missed your voice. Say it again, y/n,” Jungkook pleads softly, leaning his head closer to meet my eyes. “Please?” he adds, caressing my red cheek with the back of his hand. Feeling my chest heave up, it’s hard to breathe. Unable to break out of his possession, there isn’t much I can do but give in to his desires. 

“Koo?” I say softly, innocent eyes looking up at his darkened orbs as his fingertips traced my lips.  

“Good girl, aren’t you?” he grins with a sly wink, before nuzzling his face into my neck, hugging my form tighter than before. Feeling his hot breath on my skin, I can’t help but succumb to the adrenaline and panic running through my veins. 

“I have to go,” I stutter abruptly, moving his face up to mine. Searching his eyes, there is an evident sense of emptiness behind them. Sadness even. 

“Please stay, y/n. You must be tired, let me take care of you,” he pleads into my palms, placing a soft kiss on the tip of my index finger which was covered by a bandaid. And, although I knew I would regret it later, I stayed. 

“Okay,” I whisper, straddling his thighs as my legs go numb at this point. Nibbling on my lips, I watched as he pulled out a black ribbon out of his jean jacket. 

“May I?” he asks innocently. 

“Oh, do I have a choice?” I chuckle at the way that innocent smile of his quickly turned into a sly grin. Tucking a few curls behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer before tying the ribbon over my eyes, gentle with his touch. Giving up yet another sense to his possession, I feel the panic rush in again. 

“Wait!” I snap abruptly, gripping his arms. “Whatever you do … this doesn’t mean anything. We’re still on a break, got it?” I try to convince both of us, before finally giving in. 

“Of course, whatever you say y/n,” Jungkook whispers into a needy kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip as his hands unclasp the bedazzled bra. Feeling his kisses go down to my neck, purple hues of desire begin to mark my skin. One thing is for sure, our lust for each other has been desperately fueling the whole of that break. And, as I hesitate to touch him, Jungkook senses my tension before placing my hands on his exposed chest, gliding them up and down his defined abs. 

“It’s still all yours, baby,” he whispers into my ear, laying me down on the velvet couch. Alarmed by the cracking sound in the background, my chest heaves up in suspense before a cold sensation hits my consciousness. Gliding an ice cube down my stomach, Jungkook’s hooded eyes watch in satisfaction as my back arches from the feeling. Licking the trail of melting water, he sucks on the soft skin, leaving a few love bites behind that turn me into a whimpering mess. 

“Koo,” I whine, reaching out to feel his arms. That is until a yelp escapes my parted lips as he glides the melting ice cube under my panties, which are already wet. With my chest heaving up, there was no time to even protest as his grip on my thighs tightened, moving me closer to him. 

“I’ll warm you up, baby,” Jungkook reassures with a raspy tone, helping me take off the lacey fabric before putting it in his pocket. Leaving a trail of kisses up my thighs, he stopped by my throbbing core which was now hot and cold at the same time. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[thomasschabot]

bet all i have on that furrowed brow

jakob chychrun x fem!oc

isobel has a workplace crush and healthy dose of loneliness that jakob is more than willing to cure

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of spending the holidays alone, cursing, partial nudity, alcohol consumption

a/n: for @wyattjohnston 🩷 thank you so much for putting together yet another incredibly successful event, and for giving me the best gift of all - getting to write for you! i hope you enjoy x (we're just pretending hockey works like american football and the sens have a bye week over christmas okay? okay!) many wonderful thanks to @matthewtkachuk for singing my praises via text and fluffing up my ego

The string of days between Christmas and New Years always feels like purgatory. One holiday bleeds slowly into the next, and there’s a general consensus no one knows what day it is or how long it’s been since they ate something moderately healthy. For most it’s time well spent with family and friends, but for Isobel it’s a sentence to near solitary confinement. She has no family remotely close, few friends, and is much too stubborn to take up her co-workers’ invitations to join them on holiday getaways to ski chalets or sandy beaches. Isobel refuses to be more of an inconvenience than she already feels like she is, but it isn’t necessarily best for her mental health.

She spends as much time as possible at work, researching rising social media trends to present to the team and making sure all paperwork is up-to-date. The team will be able to start with their best foot forward in the new year, something Isobel is extremely proud of, and it keeps her going into the office even when she’d much prefer to stay in bed and wallow in the intense loneliness she feels. There isn’t a pressure to produce new deliverables, which is a slight stress relief. The analytics department isn’t needed as much with the bye week and most of the incoming reports can be run by Isobel alone. A number of years ago the NHL implemented bye weeks in addition to the all-star break, which allows each team to not have scheduled games during the regular season. This year Ottawa got lucky, with their break over the Christmas holidays, and players and support staff alike took the opportunity to get the hell out of the snowy capital.

As far as Isobel’s aware, very few members of the Senators organization stayed in the area. From social media she could see co-workers posting from almost every continent, enjoying all the world has to offer. Many roster players were in tropical destinations, hungry to get away from the ice and snow that ruled much of their daily lives. Claude Giroux has taken his family to the Caribbean and posts a rare snapshot of his young boys enjoying the water. Brady, ever the gracious captain, has taken what seems like half the team home with him to St. Louis in order to cheer on his sister’s university tournament being hosted in the same city. Only Jakob’s whereabouts are unknown, his absence from her life palpable, but Isobel’s sure he isn’t in Ottawa. Why would he be? There are a thousand different people and places vying for his attention, and one of them was sure to be the lucky winner. 

It’s her most guarded secret, the fact that Isobel has an almost debilitating crush on who is technically a co-worker, but she’s also sure everyone has figured it out, even Jakob himself. Working with professional athletes means there’s a serious lack of personal boundaries, and one’s private life isn’t exactly private, no matter how well guarded they may be. The boys Isobel works with will stop at nothing short of blackmail to get information out of her, even if it’s only ever used for in-house teasing. No one has said anything yet, which she’s incredibly grateful for, but Isobel can’t help but think it’s the main topic of conversation when she’s not around. 

The suburbs of Ottawa are desolate as Isobel winds through the streets to the Canadian Tire Centre. No car is on the road except her own, and there is only one in the parking lot when she pulls in. Badge in hand, Isobel treks up the steps and pulls open the large door at the back of the arena, one that isn’t used by anyone except members of the organization. Jamie, one of the building’s security guards, is face down in a book — it must have been his sedan parked beside her own sensible compact SUV. 

“Isobel Walker,” he says, surprised to see another person. The offices were open upon a technicality in contracts that is now grandfathered in, but it’s likely Jamie hasn’t seen anyone since he started his shift.  “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready with friends? The New Year's festivities start in a few hours.”

Isobel shakes her head. “Just wanted to square away a few things before the weekend. Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do. It’s just me this year.”

The attentive man doesn’t miss the sad downturn in her voice, or the longing for companionship in Isobel’s eyes. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get invited somewhere.” Jamie sounds resolute in the statement, but she knows it must be easy for him to think when once his shift is over he’ll return home to a wife and kids. When Isobel is done putting in work there’ll be no one waiting at home. 

The elevator dings then, signalling its availability to deliver a human to the floor where the data and analytics department is located. Isobel waves goodbye in an almost timid fashion, insisting she’ll take good care of herself and promising to at least look into doing something. Nothing will come of it, this she’s sure of, but a small white lie has never hurt anyone. In fact, Isobel deals almost exclusively in little white lies, whether it be to scouts who want to hear a specific player is doing bad so they feel less guilty about not advising the general manager to draft them or to teammates when they ask what she’s doing on the weekends. Telling Jamie one more won’t cause the world to fall apart. Isobel is sure of it.

Her cubicle is tucked just inside the glass doors that shelter the front office from the rest of the floor, but Isobel doesn't head there. Instead, she tiptoes through the space until the corkboard of Senators and their individual season stats is right in front of her. The photo of Jakob immediately catches her attention — not an official headshot but instead a picture from the charity gala last season — and Isobel notices it’s a cropped version of one she has on her desk. In the photo he’s posing with the analytics staff, goofy smile plastered on his face as he stands three people from Isobel. She also remembers that in the photo she’s not looking at the camera, but at him. Eventually she forces herself to stop looking at the gorgeous specimen that is Jakob Chychrun and accomplish what she intended to do. Taking one last look, Isobel places a distant memory that their eyes had locked seconds after the camera’s shutter went off. 

⭑⭒⭑

It’s long past sunset when Isobel returns home, and there’s no sense trying to scramble downtown to an overcrowded bar. She hadn’t been planning on it anyways despite what she told the only person she’s interacted with in a week. Things at the office didn’t take long to complete, despite the frequent distraction of Jakob’s gorgeous portrait in the background, but Isobel couldn’t bring herself to return to her empty home. Since the conversation with Jamie in the lobby she’s been dreading the silence that would greet her when the door rocked on its hinges. Instead of immediately returning home, Isobel drives eastward towards more connected areas of the city and marvels at the tourists in town to ring in the new year surrounded by history. Each street sign passed amalgamated into a mushed series in her brain, and once she could no longer tell what was real or imaginary Isobel turned and headed for home. 

As expected, the modest craftsman house Isobel occupies is dark and silent and lonely, as well as a million other words she can’t think of to encapsulate how isolated she feels. If she had been thinking clearly Isobel would have picked up take out on the drive back, but she wasn't in a completely sound frame of mind, therefore being resigned to heating up three day old broccoli pasta and drinking room temperature beer. She can’t even be bothered to change into comfortable clothing, instead throwing her blouse and slacks over the back of a dining room chair seconds before crashing onto the worn leather sofa inherited from a college roommate nearly a decade ago but that she can’t seem to get rid of. 

The television turns on at the press of a button, and Isobel briefly watches the sports highlights for updates on potential trade targets before deciding she’s done more than enough work for the day and switching to a New Years special. This one seems to be taking place in New York, a place she’s never been nor cared for, but at the moment Isobel would give anything to be there amongst the suffocating crowd. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so earth-shatteringly alone. 

Hours pass by and more beers are consumed, but Isobel can’t seem to reach the buzz she’s so desperately chasing. The performances and countdowns meld together but if questioned there wouldn’t be a detail missing from her recollection. No one could do that inebriated, further proving that getting drunk isn’t in the cards for her tonight. A chill settles over the room and Isobel struggles to wrangle a throw blanket free from its perch on the back of the couch. Though comfortable, sitting in only undergarments doesn’t provide much protection against the drafty windows she should call a repairman about. Some pop star, whom she doesn't particularly care about, is thanking fans for helping them reach a milestone this past calendar year and she zone out. Nothing and everything floats through Isobel’s brain all at once, swimming in circles and causing a beautiful confusion. 

The dull thud of a fist against the front door shakes Isobel from her stupor and possible slumber. Panic encroaches and her sharp survival instincts set in — the baseball bat normally kept in the corner of the living room grabbed and work clothes are haphazardly tossed over frame. The person on the other side of the wood slab is the last person she’s expecting to see, and the fact he’s standing there with a sheepish smile is astounding. Jakob Chychrun is on her doorstep, shifting his weight between the balls of his feet and carrying a large bottle of expensive champagne and a bag of garlic bread. 

“Hi.”

“Can I help you, Jakob?” she asks, but immediately backpedals when she realizes how ill-tempered the tone of the words made her seem. “I just wasn’t expecting any visitors and am wholly unprepared.”

He smiles even more, as though Isobel can actually solve a problem he’s been faced with, and gestures to the objects in his hands like it’s obvious. “Jamie mentioned you were spending the evening alone when I went into the rink this afternoon, and I had no plans, so I thought we could watch the dumb special programs and drown our sorrows in alcohol.”

The answer is so Jakob, so perfect and friendly and warm, Isobel can’t help but return his grin. “I told him I’d look into going out. What are you doing in the city?”

“I wanted a relaxing week.”

Isobel arches her eyebrow. “The beach isn’t relaxing?”

“Not as much as staying at home.”

“Oh.”

Jakob doesn’t skip a beat in bringing conversation back to his original proposition. “Well sweetheart, what do you say?”

All the air leaves her lungs at the pet name, but she manages to nod semi-enthusiastically and move to the side. Jakob slips off his shoes while Isobel closes the door and treads into the living space carefully, inspecting-without-inspecting the decor. She quickly plays the role of gracious hostess, getting her handsome guest a crystal flute and asking if he’d like anything to eat. Jakob declines, saying he had leftovers before coming over, and urges her to sit down and ‘stop fluttering around like a hummingbird’. She obliges, turning to face him and tucking her legs underneath her center of gravity.

Jakob rakes his eyes over Isobel, once, then a second time, before coughing rather aggressively. It rings through the quiet like a gunshot and nearly makes her jump. Unsure of what could have caused such a reaction, she looks down to find the previously hastily buttoned shirt has shifted, revealing a rather large patch of red lace that hints at what’s underneath. Surely that can’t be the reason the normally suave man across from her is a blushing mess?

He respectfully looks away while she adjusts, and Isobel finishes quickly before placing a tentative hand on her shoulder to let her know everything is back to normal. She’s desperate to dissuade any awkwardness. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Jakob laughs, but it comes out a little strangled. “Happens to the best of us. Well not me, in that exact way, but I’ve been caught in my fair share of wardrobe malfunctions.”

Isobel focuses extremely hard on not thinking about what that means, and unsure of where to go from the moment that was somehow vulnerable and impersonal at the same time, she reaches across Jakon to grab the bottle of champagne and doesn't even bother getting a glass. The cool liquid does wonders to soothe the fire in her insides, exacerbated by the fact that Jakob came to her, wanted to spend time with her. Some alcohol misses Isobel’s mouth, dribbles down her chin, but before she can even lift the bottle from her lips it’s being wiped away. 

It’s Jakob, she realizes, stroking his thumb across her skin tenderly and making sure there isn’t an opportunity for the champagne to stain the silk button up that she can never remember to take to the dry cleaners. Clouds immediately form in her mind and Isobel closes her eyes — this has to be a dream. An incredibly elaborate fantasy. Under no circumstance is Jakob Chychrun sitting on her couch staring at her with longing and centimetres away from her lips. She must have fallen asleep, and her dreams are vivid due to the beer. 

“Iso, sweetheart, hey,” Jakob says barely above a whisper, eyebrow furrowed with concern and the slightest bit of amusement. “You alright?”

Her eyelids flutter open, a bit heavy from all the alcohol she’s consumed, but her gaze is met with his blue eyes so close to her own and his fingers fiddling with the hem of her pants. Apparently this is in fact real life, and while Isobel had been trying to convince herself otherwise she’d missed Jakob inching closer and resting his forehead against her own. 

“Yeah,” she sputters, nearly choking on air for the second time that evening. “I drank a bit before you got here and I think it’s all catching up to me.”

Jakob smiles softly, like he already confirmed this, and it’s then she clues in to the fact there are four empty beer bottles on the coffee table. “Are you drunk?”

Laughter trickles from her lips. “I wish,” Isobel confesses, “It would make the loneliness a lot easier to ignore.”

Again, Jakob smiles like he understands. It’s a bit surreal, the way the two of them are so similar, but Isobel can’t help but enjoy learning about him  through these small glances. If she could keep her cool around the man for longer periods than the handful of minutes long interaction they’d shared, Isobel is almost sure they’d be friends, but the universe is cruel and unyielding. She’s destined to never know Jakob all that well, watching from the sidelines as he jokes with Brady and Tim, marvelling at his beauty and resigning herself to the fact he’ll never be yours. 

“Can I kiss you?”

The question steals every ounce of air from Isobel’s lungs. Jakob is looking at her intently, studying her features for clues or transgressions he unknowingly committed. She’s never been good at keeping her emotions steeled away, and Isobel knows everything is splayed on her face for him to decipher if he wants to. The most prominent one is shock. Isobel is beyond surprised he’s asking the one thing that’s been on the tip of her tongue  and whispering in her mind for years. 

“Are —” she struggles to find the words she wants to say. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

It’s Jakob’s turn to laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, his deep rumbles as he nods his head, and Isobel does her best to imprint it to memory. If this is the last time she’ll ever hear it she wants to give herself the best shot at remembering. 

“Pretty damn sure, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to do it since I joined the team.”

Isobel is now beyond shocked. “You’ve wanted to kiss me for three years?”

Jakob smiles in a way that allows it to reach his eyes. Beautiful, Isobel thinks, but doesn’t allow herself much time to focus on it, too eager to catch his next words. “Four if you count the time I got lost when Arizona was the visiting team and you held the door for me to get back to the locker rooms. You were wearing a black turtleneck that made your eyes look even more angelic than normal. I didn’t know that at the time, of course, but I did know I wanted to kiss you senseless.”

“Fuck me, you never thought to say anything when I was so clearly pining after you?” she whispers, emboldened and growing more confident under the confession and moving even closer until her lips are so close to Jakob’s she can feel the breath he inhales. 

It takes a moment, but Isobel gains the courage to tilt her head slightly upwards and slot her lips against Jakob’s. Time stops with the flourish of a cheesy romance novel, though she can’t find it in her to groan internally even if she would under normal circumstances. Nothing about what’s happening is normal, however. Kissing Jakob is perfect in ways Isobel could never accurately describe — all plump lips and gentle touches and whispered sweet nothings. She never wants it to end, but eventually he pulls back. 

He doesn’t stray far, just tucks her into his side with a hint of possession if Isobel squints , and cards his fingers through the matted ends of her hair. Jakob seems to have quite an affinity for the strands, allowing them to keep his attention while Isobel processes the fact that the man she’s been secretly in love with for years has also been in love with her for just as long.

“You know,” she says breathlessly, still in a surreal state from the kiss, “Maybe ringing in the new year won’t be so lonely after all.” 

Jakob giggles in the same warm and gleeful way that made Isobel fall in love with him all those years ago. “I hope not.”

The pair of them spend the remaining hours of the night eating, drinking, and talking about what the future holds. When the television program begins the countdown Jakob looks at Isobel with a gleam in his eyes, and waits until the ball drops to kiss her into the next year.

⭑⭒⭑

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :)

[copperbadge]

lacylu42

Before he got his own book, I pictured Jerry as something like Klaus from The Umbrella Academy.

You aren’t alone! I had a lot of people say that when Jerry actually showed up in Fete he wasn’t what they expected from the discussion of him earlier, but in a good way. 

I think there is a sense, probably from the last few dozen years of television, that someone who is...not necessarily antagonistic to the hero, but at the very least antithetical to their character, has to be a specific way. You can’t be the slightly-shiftless, always-in-trouble, charming-regardless character unless you are also specifically making problems for the hero. And it’s a shame, because antiheroes like that are super fun and yet I absolutely cannot stand that plotline, where the entire conflict comes from one person being a selfish dickhead. (As is perhaps evident, I found Klaus intolerable.) 

The thing is that I really like the type, because it’s fun to write someone who is likable in spite of their flaws. So Jerry is the other option, the guy who is fun and enjoyable to read about and feels deeply even if he clearly hasn’t got his shit together...but is also earnest, and doing his best to be helpful. What he has which a lot of other characters of his archetype don’t is the ability to be reflective, which made him a real joy to write about. Gregory has 99 problems but Gerald ben Eitan ain’t one. 

niennanir

An amusing story to write would be Gregory and Eddy presumed dead in some sort of accident and Jerry suddenly being thrown into succession only to be "Oh no, their fine" at the point where he decides he really wants to nope out of this but he'll do it for the people he loves.

It would be super hilarious if Gregory and Eddie were temporarily indisposed -- say, a car accident that didn’t severely injure them but did put them out of commission for a bit, and the palace lawyers are like “Uh, Alanna, something you should know that we just discovered in consulting the constitution for precedence, turns out if the King and his consort are both incapacitated, technically the Grand Vizier takes over...” and Jerry is like “I realize this is poorly timed but we are in an emergency room, can I have an emergency Valium.” (”No, you can’t mix Valium and Adderall.”  “Curse my unique royal brain chemistry!”) 

Meanwhile Michaelis is like “I am...right here. Forty years of kinging, standing here. I’m here. Do we need a king? There’s a king in the room. King since I was twenty years old. Right here,” and the lawyers are like “Uhhhhhh technically once you give up the crown you can’t take it back, on account of rules about former kings trying to seize power again.” 

Be even funnier if Jerry does a really good job of it. Like, gets a bill passed that Gregory’s been trying to get into law for months, finds a couple of budget line items that can be reduced, hosts a goodwill visit from the royal family of Norway* that goes so well they decide to buy a summer home there. 

Gregory: What....did you do?

Jerry: Took an Adderall and opened some spreadsheets. You’re lucky I wasn’t medicated five years ago, I’d probably be king now. 

Gregory: Fair play, I guess. No coups, Jerry.

Jerry: Who has the time for a coup? I have shopping to do. While I was king my whole entire wardrobe went out of style.

Gregory: That’s the spirit. 

* My mother used to be an avid follower of the British Royal Family but after the nonsense of the last few years she simply can’t, so I suggested that we be fans of the Norwegian Royal Family instead. They’re more photogenic and appear to be a good deal more useful. Also the name Harald is fun to read and to say. 

[plutobutartsy]

🎁🍷

hello. with briar + evie + nate please

GIGGLEING SO HARD THANK YOU FOR ASKING :3

uhm i got too excited so this is longer than i planned

🎁- How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

Briar

for his own birthday he makes a big thing out of acting like he's not happy and excited about this being His special day. he tells his family "don't make a big deal out of it, i don't need a party, i'm not a kid anymore. hmpf." he is overjoyed. his family respond with "okay whatever you want honey ^-^" he almost dies. "technically... i'm so special i should be celebrated every day of the year... so i'll allow you to make up for your horrible mistreatment of me by throwing me a perfect birthday party. if you insist." appreciates home made gifts because they can't be bought.

but he almost loves celebrating the birthdays of others even more. one of his love languages is gift giving and birthdays are one of his only chances to do that without feeling embarrassed because it's expected. takes it SUPER seriously. keeps lists of everybody's interests or stuff they mentioned they want or need. planning begins 6 months in advance. he has to be the best at everything and that includes giving gifts.

Evie

has a love-hate relationship with her own birthday. she loves getting to eat nice food and celebrating with her family. but she's also painfully aware that most people her age would be celebrating with friends and that she doesn't really have any. she has one close friend who goes to a witch academy a few hours away so it's hard to meet up. at her new school evie hasn't made friends yet and her friends at her old school forgot about her birthday every year. evie spends her whole birthday with her family, laughing and having fun, and then still cries at night. every year. :3

she's determined to make sure nobody she loves feels sad on their birthday! sets a billion reminders on her phone, circles it bright red in her calendar. you will find sticky notes in her room from a year ago saying "ALEX'S BIRTHDAY ON THURSDAY!! DON'T FORGET!!!!!!!!!" anxious about getting the wrong gift so additionally she takes extra care to bake the person's favourite pastery. if it's for a family member she will ask makena to use the kitchen at work as to not ruin the surprise (even though everybody knows what she's up to).

Nate

grew to like his birthday but hated it as a kid. because of his dad's violent temper he could never have any friends over to celebrate and his family didn't really celebrate either. but his mother would get him a new book and cook his favourite meal for dinner so there's that. after his dad died selah was the one to make birthdays into a big thing in the family and now he likes it a lot, partially because it's a reminder that his dad is no longer around.

he enjoys celebrating other people's birthday more than his own because he doesn't associate it with his own baggage if that makes sense? but unlike most people he's very understanding when others don't want to celebrate theirs. will ask beforehand to make sure they won't mind him celebrating it. a lot of his gifts are homemade! either crocheted or pottery stuff. sometimes he feels childish because of it but then he sees his brother brag about the mug nate made him or his sister wear the cardigan he crocheted :3

🍷- How do they feel about alcohol?

Briar

absolutely APALLED that anyone his age would willingly drink it. WE ARE MINORS!!!!! AND IT'S BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH!!!! AND!!!!! TASTES GROSS!!

he sometimes has a few sips at events his parents host, mostly so he has something to do. complete lightweight do NOT let him drink more than one glass he WILL throw up.

Evie

likes it for special occassions or events because it drowns out her anxiety a bit and makes it easier for her to socialize. feels uncomfortable if she wasn't made aware beforehand that there would be alcohol involved in a meet up.

she knows her own limits very well and only ever gets tipsy unless she's deliberately drinking to forget (happens like. once a year maybe? not often). only really likes fruity cocktails and beer. can hold her liquor really well, it takes a lot for her to be REALLY drunk.

Nate

was briefly in some very questionable circles when he was like 15 where he would drink almost every weekend. now he's pretty cautious about it and prefers to stay away from alcohol, he's the designated driver for the most part but he will indulge every once in a while with his friends and get more than just tipsy.

he doesn't mind being around drunk people when he's sober but has a certain disdain for people who insist drinking is necessary to have fun, like he'll straight up leave a party if he meets somebody like that there.

[sepublic]

            Something that’s been bothering me for a while is… What is the blood of Titan the Golden Wyvern? What is it called, what are its properties? I already brought up Maelstrom for Sovereign, and Dark Matter for Overlord; Dark Matter in particular I should mention, is VERY reactive to the psychology of those around it, and can manifest as one’s worst fears for example.

         But what of Titan? And as I think about it, I think I’ve finally gotten an answer… The Philosopher’s Stone.

         Allow me to change and retcon my established lore for a bit. Midas’ Philosopher’s Stone isn’t one at all, it’s a failed attempt that gave him, of all things, a gold touch. That’s how it is from an in-universe standpoint… But from a meta perspective, Midas’ attempt at a Philosopher’s Stone is more accurate to the real life concept that inspired this adaptation.

         So the actual Philosopher’s Stone is indeed what the Horned Demon and now Tamericus seek out; A substance that enhances and catalyzes the processes of the universe, amplifies its raw matter to new heights. I choose this for a number of reasons;

         Firstly, the Golden energy that Titan embodies is meant to represent the physical. The body, stuff like that. So it makes sense to focus on physical attributes, and this evolved into Titan being able to transfer and store kinetic energy, redirect it, transmute things, etc. This of course pairs nicely with Trexdis’ mirror abilities that include reflecting attacks, given she was transformed by the Mirror World, itself a network of Golden energy branching off from the Shining Void.

         I also know that the real-life idea of the Philosopher’s Stone was described as the ‘perfect element’ that couldn’t be destroyed and whatnot, which I think fits Titan’s more physical motif compared to her siblings. Not only that, but…

         As mentioned, the Wayvren family found its origins in two individuals, whose blood was converted into a pseudo-Philosopher’s Stone. This not only meant that they could survive becoming a host to Titan or any of the Wyverns, it also meant they would enhance the power of whatever Wyvern they bonded to. And it was this extra edge that enabled Titan to defeat Overlord and reign as victor of the Wyvern Wars.

         Unlike her siblings, Titan couldn’t boost her power with a regular Philosopher’s Stone, because that was already her blood and already a part of her. But by ‘changing the recipe’ in a host, for lack of a better phrasing, Titan created a new version that would work for her.

         Prior to this decision, I’d come up with this concept years ago as an explanation for why a Wyvern would even need to bond with a host to begin with, as well as how the Wayvrens are so long-lived, and ultimately tying the idea of a red liquid that enhances power to another red liquid that, would you have it, enhances power! So the Wayvrens are technically the source, the first example of the Philosopher’s Stone.

         And with Tamericus’ attempt to use Wayvren blood as a means of crafting an even better version, I figured… What if we kinda worked with that, and the fact that I needed another type of ‘blood’ for Titan herself that also accentuated the physical? Thus, the Philosopher’s Stone is just Wayvren’s legendary blood. Like Dark Matter and Maelstrom, it has the capacity to propagate as a resource and change the world, and while Maelstrom seems more overt in its Terrorbrai legacy, the Philosopher’s Stone arguably reigns supreme through the Wayvren family.

         Whether Tamericus knows this staggering truth or suspects it, I dunno. But either way, her attempt at using Wayvren blood to create the Philosopher’s Stone is actually just reverse-engineering the ‘original recipe’ from the altered take, bringing out its original properties. This includes magic and a variety of supernatural ingredients, as mentioned before, Midas himself.

         Plus, this goes back to what I said about Lloyd and Midas’ parallels. In addition to being gold and green champions with their own found family of outcasts, they both have some variation of the Philosopher’s Stone that has altered their bodies. Lloyd’s is derivative of the original source, while Midas’ is a failed outside attempt to recreate it. One was naturally born with it, the other had to make it himself and inject it into his own body. One was cursed with this from birth, the other wanted and chose it for himself.

         I should mention, it’s fairly hidden knowledge that the Philosopher’s Stone is Titan’s blood (not related to Owl house’s but what a coincidence of term huh), or there would’ve been a lot more effort by alchemists to just bypass the alchemical trial and error by simply searching for the fabled Golden Wyvern, getting it right from the source. The reason for this, aside from Titan not wanting mortals to be privy to the power and secrets of such divine energy-beings, is simple; She wasn’t spreading her blood all willy-nilly to control others with.

        Sovereign did so to enact their will upon reality, as did Overlord. But Titan, as mentioned before, was more of a Free Will type of person. And when the first Wayvrens were altered, it was with a variation of the Philosopher’s Stone that was different enough that Titan couldn’t just control them with it, which was better; A mutual symbiosis brought out the synergy of a Wyvern better than forced control on either end. Ultimately, Titan was a lot more conservative about flexing her power over others, even if she technically did fight to enforce a policy of her own.

        Now, all that said... I do have to adapt to this change; Namely, the color of Dark Matter. Originally it was red, but since the Philosopher’s Stone is and I made THAT into Titan’s blood (not related to King Clawthorne’s dad), I need a new and appropriate color for something called Dark Matter. And it can’t be purple, since that’s taken by Sovereign’s Maelstrom.

[krisb-writing-blog]

Chapter 4: She Took the Midnight Train Going Anywhere

Start date: 07/10/22

End date: 07/18/22

TW: implication of m**d*r

Rating: PG (mature themes implied)

@choicesficwriterscreations

▪︎ __________ 🌷 __________ ▪︎

A month had passed since three of the four women scorned by Sam Dalton put their plan into motion, and it had worked so far. Marianne was unstoppable at work with the case and the detectives had found a lot of leads that actually bore fruit, Sofia bombarded Sam with extra work and projects until he could barely see over the mountain of proposals, and Hannah helped distract him in her own way, using dinners and movie nights with the kids to buy Marianne some time when she worked late nights. But finally, a tip from a witness all those years ago paid off, and the trio met up while Sam was at work.

"Mom! Sofia is here!" Mickey yelled, answering the door.

"That's no way to greet the woman who was almost your stepmother." Sofia beckoned, walking in.

"You're right. There's alternate terms that could be used in place of your name but we have a swear jar now after a brutal game night." Mason scoffed as he walked by.

"Thanks, you two. If you need help with your homework, just come get Hannah or me and we'll be right there." Marianne sat a food platter on the dining room table.

Once the kids went to their rooms, and Marianne double checked to make sure Ainsley was asleep on the baby monitor, the women caught each other up on what happened.

"Just out of curiosity, why are you working when Marianne is in the apartment today?" Sofia asked Hannah.

"Because I'm looking at the evidence today and I don't know how to explain why the suspect board has the father of my child and stepchildren on top of it, so she keeps them occupied while I work." Marianne answered for Hannah.

"Please tell me that's the only thing he's on top of." Sofia winked, sipping her tea.

"Eww. Also, since I'm pretending to be okay with that part of the scheme, I have to second that." Marianne replied.

"It's mostly just talk, I told him that I want to take things slow and he bought it." Hannah reassured them.

"Well, how's the investigation going? Anything that would shock the business world yet?" Sofia asked.

"I can't reveal much, but I can say that the tip we recovered said that Sam was the last one seen with Addison at a subway station before she disappeared. The techs are recovering security footage, but that's going to take a little while since it's been so long and the technology wasn't as great then as it is now. They're supposed to tell me later, but that's just the technical explanation." Marianne put something on her plate.

"Well what's the other explanation? Am I gonna have to help you look in the attic, because I already helped my roommate do that after we watched the Annabelle movies." Hannah shared.

"DNA was found in their old car, which was abandoned at the Dalton storage unit. It's Addison's, and it couldn't have gotten there unless she laid down in the backseat. I was hoping she'd be alive for the twins' sakes, but it's looking unlikely." Marianne sighed, taking a bite of a bagel.

Before anyone could say anything, Sam came home and walked into the dining room to see the three women conversing.

"Well if it isn't my wife, nanny, and ex-fiancee. What brings you three together?" Sam was curious, and quite frankly a little suspicious.

"Business. I'm hosting a ladies lunch and I was originally going to just invite your wife, but I'm fascinated by your nanny's passion for chemistry that I've extended it to her as well. She could be very crucial to Russo Industries if she wants a different career path." Sofia covered for them.

"I thought you said that you had a degree in communication and public relations?" Sam proved that he wasn't listening.

"Nope, chemistry." Hannah reminded him.

"Well I don't think they'll be able to get out of work to go, so I'm afraid they can't attend." Sam was nervous.

"My office is handling the case load just fine, and the kids can come with us, so you will have the office and the apartment to yourself." Marianne stood up to her husband.

When Sofia left, the day went on as it normally would. After putting the kids to bed, Hannah left and was in the elevator when she got a call from Marianne.

"Hello? Did I leave something in the apartment?" Hannah asked.

"No, but the lab got the footage back. Addison and Sam argued at the train station, and she got on alone. How her DNA could've been in the back of that car is still a mystery, but the credit card statements show that Sam rented a boat the afternoon that she went missing. The dive team is gonna investigate some more, but as far as we know she's still missing." Marianne whispered.

"So Sam knows more about the disappearance than what he's told the cops, and you're not letting him know any of this why?" Hannah asked.

"The element of surprise. If we find something, his reaction will be just as useful as any evidence." Marianne whispered.

"Alright. I'm gonna be in a little late tomorrow, my neighbors are gonna help me and my roommate with our stupid wifi issues, but I won't be too late. If I hear anything from Sam or Sofia I'll text you." Hannah told her.

"Got it. See you tomorrow." Marianne hung up.

[yaaxlshirley]

DAY 3

22/05/2024 Time: 9:30am - 5:30pm

Location: 700 Harris St, Ultimo NSW 2007

Writing callsheet

Pre-production meeting

Chat with PD manager

My job today was to finish putting together the 14-page callsheet. In addition, I was fortunate enough to participate in the four-monthly departmental meeting, where we discussed the direction the program might take in the following month or even the entire year after that, currently discussing the habits of animals such as crocodiles and kangaroos.

In compiling the travel callsheet, I gained a deep understanding of the hard work of the crew and the considerations that go into the selection of topics for the program's filming. When the crew flew to Brisbane, Melbourne and Perth for filming, they needed to consider their baggage allowance and the cost of transporting their equipment, as well as the risk of losing it. In addition, in order to ensure that the crew is well rested, no more than three days' work is usually done in a single filming event, with no more than ten hours per day.

When conducting departmental meetings with producers, I understand how producers solve problems and decide on selections. Generally speaking, producers need to be risk-averse and have the responsiveness to control the problems that come with budget overruns, because within the industry, budgets are usually not allowed to be exceeded, and if they are, they will no longer be trusted by the investors. In today's meeting, the camera crew raised the issue of video shooting resolution: if all three days of filming were shot in 4k resolution, they would need more cameras and hard disks, and due to the presence of two cameras, they would need more baggage allowance, and more set up time on set, which would need to be compressed in terms of filming time; if the filming was done in a hybrid format, with the hosts' dialogues with the guests shot in 4k, and factory If the scenes were shot in a hybrid format, with the host and guest conversations in 4k and the factory scenes shot in 1080 resolution with a B cam, it would require technical support and approval from the post-production staff. In resolving this issue, the producer-manager and the crew discussed and weighed the pros and cons and decided to shoot in a hybrid format. Also, I learned that not everyone who works for CATALYST gets credit because the funders prefer that the show spend money on SCREEN rather than hiring CREW, so some of the people who work hard for the show only get a paycheck and can't be found out by the funders that they're splitting their money with them.

The issue of filming resolution was carried over into the monthly departmental meetings. In order for the next year's program to be able to shoot field and animal footage, the producers considered asking the government for more money to buy higher definition cameras and equipment to protect the crew. However, in order to get more funding, the crew must come up with a creative, must-do idea to convince them. Producer Penny told me that everyone's ideas are good, but sometimes it's just a matter of matching the timing. Two years ago, a colleague's idea was filmed two years later, so anything is possible.

[itsbubbleteataro]

Okay I know this is something different from what I write on here (and I promise I'm working on both Paw Prints and Eraser Shavings, as well as The Radio Host and The Reporter, I'm just drawing blanks) I just need to clear writers block so I'm hoping this helps. Ps this is technically a backstory to one of my DnD characters :3

Flame into Powder

Warnings: angsty, guns, arson, gore

About; a cult runs into town, will they be over run by it, or will they submit to it?

NOT PROOF READ

The earth, cracked, a shade of copper crunches under her feet. Three tiflings standing shoulder to shoulder. Two having wings. One was an older gentleman, skin red as flame. Black hair pushed away from his face with white streaks sprinkled through it. His clawed hands on the two woman who stand shoulder to shoulder. His two devil like horns, twisting like a goat's before pointing up at the sky. Golden eyes watching the town below. Dressed in a fitted white shirt, his torn wings tucked into his back as to not take up too much space. Lose fitting pants and black boots, lightly covered in copper colored dust.

The woman on the right, his daughter. She looked just like him, same ruby red skin, same bright golden eyes and pitch black hair. Her horns, pointed up at the sky with no twists, a cowboy hat with holes cut out for the horns perched on her head. She too wore a white shirt, only it was much more lose fitting. Similar wings, almost bat like in shape were pressed to her back, hers unscathed. Clawed hands holding the other tiflings hand. Her legs adorned by tight fitting brown leather pants. Black boots matching her father's also covered in copper colored dust.

The third tifling was like one you would see anywhere, skin a deep blue. Horns a shade of black as well, twisting and pointing behind her. A purple wizard cap sitting proudly on her head. Dressed in white frills and a purple dress, her claws, painted gold, holding on to a staff that has burn marks littered about. Her dress falling down to her knees. Black ankle boots with purple bows decorate her feet.

The three of them watching the sunset over the town.

The older man silently sighed, reflecting on the many year journey it took them to get here.

The three of them fled Avernus many many years ago, back when his daughter and her girlfriend were just little girls.

Avernus was a harsh land, located in the ninth circle of hell. They escaped barely. It took Calub risking his wings to save the three. They were so badly damaged that he can no longer fly.

It took them years to find this place, to build a house for the three of them. Caleb, Jessie and Umi have learned to not take this sunset for granted, the three of them having earned it.

The day turns to night right before their very eyes and the trio head home. Caleb starts on dinner, while Jessie and Umi head to their room.

Umi lays on the bed, legs in the air kicking as she looks again over a book. One of many that Jessie had stolen for her. Jessie sits at a chair, facing the bed, polishing her cherished revolver (think Smith and Wesson 357 Magum).

They spend their days like this, Jessie and Caleb doing work around the house or the farm while Umi worked on her studies as a wizard, writing to other wizards for help on occasion.

All was well until one day, when Caleb saw something strange in the town. Pointing it out to the two girls, a new large building had seemingly been built overnight. The three decided to walk into town, investigating the strange building.

The three weren't strangers to the town, Caleb going in for food and Jessie and Umi to meet with the few friends they have at a tavern.

Unknown to them they were being watched by the new soul in town.

The three walked up to the building, something grand like a church, one with a simple sliver spoon. Umi tilted her head, such strange imagery for a church.

Umi decided to look into it when the three returned home, walking slowly through the town, picking up a few things for dinner along the way.

They spent the week like that, Umi staying home, reading into it while Caleb and Jessie went into town to gather information. The three didn't quite trust the church. Soon, they had good reason not to.

Jessie and Caleb were in town, heading into the tavern, when they stopped dead in their tracks, looking up at the large old oak tree that stood tall and firm in the center of town.

Dangling from one of the branches was the mangled body of a Drow. Limbs missing, body bruised and broken, thrown hastily over one of the branches. Dangling from the neck, a sliver chain, at the end, a sliver spoon.

Clearly a message, to those who dare oppose.

The two went back early that day to share what they found.

Umi did not take what they had found lightly.

She insisted much to Jessie's dismay that they did some that that night.

The trio did nothing that night, much to Umi's dismay. They simply didn't have enough information to formulate a plan.

Little did Jessie know, that night would be the last night the three would be together.

Umi had slipped on her sliver ring for luck, the one that Jessie gave her when they started to date, then slipped out the window.

Jessie was the first to notice, waking up to an empty bed when she wanted to get some water. Caleb was the second, hearing sounds a fight from town. The two looked at each other and sprang into action.

Jessie grabbed her revolver while Caleb took his daggers, sliding them in their sheets around his hips. Jessie placing her revolver in its holster on the side of her hip. Her hat hastily placed on her head as Caleb goes to the shed, tearing a sheet off an early motorcycle. The two hop on, speeding to the town now ablaze with fire.

Umi was strong Jessie knew, but they had no idea what they were dealing with.

It wasn't long before they reached the town, fire burning around them, Umi standing on weak legs, holding her side, hunched over. Jessie ran up, checking her out quickly as Caleb focused down the person infront of them.

They were outnumbered, the three knew that, but they couldn't back out. Not yet. 

Hell broke lose figuratively, bullets being fired, daggers finding their way into people's flesh, spells being casted.

All was well, the fight somehow even. All up untill this figure, dressed in robes of black.

Caleb, standing under the the awning of one of the stores, was pulling his dagger out from one of the bodies. The figure, seeing this as an opportunity, fired a bolt of fire at the support beam.

A gargled yell left his body, as he was crushed to death.

Jessie was horrified. Already starting to back up. It was no better for Umi, who now had a dagger sticking out of her heart.

Her body, crumbled on the ground, her blood pooling underneath her.

The cultists, taking their leave, retreating back into the church.

Jessie falls to her knees, looking at the only two people she has ever loved, now dead next to her. She takes the gold ring that was around Umi's finger. She slips it onto her own, tears in her eyes. Her lover dead. She looks over at the rubble where her father lays crushed to death. Sobbing.

The smoke from the fires lit around starts to combine, forming a sort of demon.

The humanoid, a being made of smoke. Large glowing red eyes, long black hair, looks down at Jessie.

Extending a hand, and making a deal to her in Infernal,

"I know you want to avenge them, I can feel your pain. I can help. I will lend you my strength, and in exchange, after the cult has been destroyed, you will give me your body to use as a physical form. Do we have a deal, young tifling?"

Jessie shook his hand. She could feel this new power pumping through her veins.

The demon of smoke introduced himself is Falfor, before disappearing.

Jessie's revolver turns black, sliver accents swirling around the barrel.

It takes a while, but eventually, her father and girlfriend are buried in the backyard, graves dug and marked.

Jessie, standing alone, watching the town, eyes narrowed at the cult.

She will take it down someday, her loved ones sacrifice will not be wasted, even if it costs her body

[childeproof]

me realizing the only way for u guys to know of my selfships is to talk abt them.. SIGH. anyways here are is the mortal kombat Selfship + self insert line up rn

jules janssen — she / her + some sick neos i’m pondering,, edenian

survived an assassination attempt, became part cyborg as a result, guards the royal line, belongs in a female rage compilation but also kins freminet genpact.. main character

shipped w: johnny cage, janet cage, + scarlet. AND erron black on occasion but it’s not permanent ( rip )

i think she’s the most known of my s/is but that’s bc I have an actual obsession with johnny cage and need mental help.. but also she’s rlly badass n fun

izana — she/they/it,, human turned goddess / spirit, she’s the embodiment of peace ( specifically peace after war or fighting )

“blessed” by the elder gods at a young age, she embodies peace in all of its forms. she spends her free time just adventuring, as she has nothing better to do. her job or role is to grant peace to people or places willing enough to fight for it. the whole “willing enough” thing is vague and she’s rather fickle so mercy ultimately depends on her mood

^^ she’s not morally bad or good, I think she’d be in a grey area. she can’t teleport, she can only be in one place at a time, but she can shapeshift

shipped w: havik and only havik.. I was gonna have her be shipped with a few other characters but she’s literally the divine peace to his human chaos what else needs to be said.. they need each other

eulalie — she/it

she used to be a gentle healer but she turned into an evil sorceress at the loss of her children ( two young girls and a boy ). she steals souls to gain power and control. sometimes uses young women as hosts ( like takes control of their bodies n whatnot )

more of an oc than a s/i but idc. she’s just a hurt mother okay..

btw all this happened like. thousands of years ago so now she just lurks the earth as a mythological figure. like it’s technically real her mythology but ppl view her as a story in modern times

very kind and protective of young kids, mothers, the elderly, and gingers of all kinds

[f1]

BEYOND THE GRID: Oscar Piastri on his F1 debut dealing with the pressure and bringing back McLarens glory days

A new episode of the Beyond The Grid podcast means a new guest and this time it’s one of F1’s three rookie drivers in 2023, Oscar Piastri, who sits down to reflect on his first Grand Prix, how he is finding his feet in the sport and what’s next for himself and McLaren… Piastri made the step up to F1 as a highly-rated F2 and F3 champion and, after a steady start in Bahrain, the 21-year-old Australian shone under the lights in Saudi Arabia with a run to Q3 in qualifying – offering a glimpse of the potential that generated an off-track battle between McLaren and Alpine over his services last summer. IT’S RACE WEEK: 5 storylines we’re excited about ahead of the Australian Grand Prix With the first racing laps of his F1 career behind him, Piastri stopped by for a wide-ranging chat on Beyond The Grid and began by telling host Tom Clarkson what life in the fast lane has been like so far… “I’ve been enjoying it! It’s been exciting and obviously something I’ve worked towards for a very, very long time. I started racing about 12 years ago now. It’s been busy, but it’s very cool to say I’m an F1 driver – that’s for sure,” said Piastri. “Everyone’s been great in welcoming me to the team. I’ve been trying to spend as much time at the factory as I can, both preparing myself, trying to help the team, but also just getting to know people, put names to faces. Piastri is getting used to life as an F1 driver and representing the famous McLaren team “Now that we’ve got the first race under our belt together, it just adds to the level of the relationship that you’ve got with all the mechanics on your side of the garage and stuff like that. I feel like I’m in a good spot, very happy to be at McLaren, and it’s been going well, I think.” Piastri has arrived at McLaren amid a challenging phase for the Woking squad, who announced last week that a technical reshuffle is taking place in a bid to overcome their current performance struggles and emerge as a front-running force again – having taken only one race victory over the last decade. ANALYSIS: McLaren hit the reset button in a bid to revive their F1 hopes “There’s definitely the passion and the energy there to get us back to the front,” explained Piastri, referring to the eight constructors’ championships, 12 drivers’ titles and 183 Grand Prix wins McLaren have achieved since their first race back in 1966. “Obviously we’re not where we ideally want to be at the moment, and I’m sure for myself and Lando [Norris], of course, we want to be trying to win, because that’s what we’ve done to get into F1 – and the team’s no different, I feel. “We’ve got good plans to help us move forward. We’ve got a new wind tunnel coming online, a new simulator, so the plan is in place. I think half the battle sometimes is recognising where things are going wrong or where you need to improve. “I feel very confident that we’ve recognised a lot, if not all of those areas, and now it’s about putting in the hard work to address it all.” READ MORE: Home hero Piastri describes ‘special feeling’ ahead of maiden Australian Grand Prix His F1 debut and McLaren’s factory push aside, Piastri also speaks about the sacrifices he made to pursue his motorsport dreams by moving from Australia to Europe as a youngster, the influence of fellow Australian drivers Mark Webber (now his manager) and Daniel Ricciardo, whom he replaced at McLaren – and much, much more… Listen to the full podcast with Piastri in the player above or head here to catch Beyond The Grid on your favourite platform. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[talenlee]

How To Represent Speed?

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: How To Represent Speed?

When working with videogames, there’s a a lot of different ways to represent speed, and a lot of the challenges they present start out as technical. Infamously on the PC, getting fast scrolling on a room to create the impression of single large spaces the player could move through was a big technical hurdle; outrun used a camera trick and moving single silhouettes, and the VR push of a few years ago (is it reasonable to suggest that VR is now over?) featured a whole host of ways to grapple with the question of duping a human brain that’s very very good at recognising when it’s standing still and convincing it that it’s not.

But that’s videogames, an entire form of games that I don’t really make. I could try, that may be interesting, but anyway for now.

How do we get to represent speed in tabletop game places, with human interlocutors? Have some ideas! Go go go!

Do More Things

First up, if you want a player to be fast, let them do more things in the same amount of time other players get to do things. Having more actions a term is a good way to represent a character being very fast. That might represent some kind of challenge when the question becomes balancing that, but it’s a really simple thing in a game that’s like, say, stacking hamburgers, if one player can stack twelve pieces all at once, that’s a sign that that person is faster.

Think about the materiality of the actions though! Like, if it’s putting stacks of burgers on top of one another, that doesn’t seem to be a physical strength issue, but if it was (say) stacking girders, then the primary thing that’s going to be represented by doing a lot in a turn is going to be a lot of strength.

Travel More Distance

In board games, or games with some spatial element, you can represent speed with a unit being able to move more distance. Nice and easy. Obviously, if the game has some race element that’s going to distort the play experience. Consider a game like Scotland Yard but Mr X or the police can move twice as fast, sure, it conveys speed, but also it does make that game experience extraordinarily different.

It can also be useful in games where this kind of thing is a low-key kind of advantage. Imagine a game where being super fast lets you mostly just get things from the sweets cupboard faster; a game about baking where you can move faster might mean you have more varieties of things available to you, but you can’t make the cake bake faster.

Manual Execution

What about physical ways to do it? Snap is a classic game about trying to act quickly. Of course, this means that this game is directly tied to your physical speed, and then you’re less representing speed and just having speed. Can be doable, but it’s not a game form that works for everyone. Lots of designs like this tend to be less accessible (to the aged, to people with different abilities, to kids with behavioural problems). Still, being able to make a game move ‘as fast as you can move it’ is a well-trod genre of play experiences.

Fewer Turns

Here’s one I like a lot; you know Magic: The Gathering? Well, games in that can be really fast even if they involve a lot of decisions, if the games are over in the first two or three turns. Back during Onslaught standard, there was a real problem with Goblin decks that could close the game out in four turns.

If one type of competitor is trying to end the game really quickly, and other competitors need to address that by fighting back against them aggressively, that creates a feeling of speed when the ‘quick’ player wins, and can create a feeling of ‘slowing down’ when the other player pushes against them.

Also, if your game takes place over a small, or limited number of turns (like, say, Marvel Snap! which has only six turns?), then you make the whole game feel ‘urgent’ and can make the play actions feel like they’re happening ‘just in time.’

Less Time

What if the whole game is performed under a time restriction? This can tie into the manual execution problem, and it immediately runs into problems in competitive play. Chess clocks try to solve this problem for competitive play (and you should check out Jenga with chess clocks), but that’s a very technical device. If you’re going to try and make the whole game experience timed, you probably want to make it so it’s parcelled out – like players have a (small) sand timer for their actions, and when it’s over it’s over. Dividing up the time of the game overall is a real problem by comparison, because that’s very precise timekeeping.

Ignore Traits

Here’s another way you can use speed in games with some kind of abstracted fiction: What if there are things that a fast character can just ignore? What if (say) most characters need to keep an eye out for the cops when they transport their goods, but the fastest character can just outrun them? What if most characters have to wait for an elevator, but the fastest courier can ignore that, by just rushing up the stairs, because they know they’re going to be faster than even the fastest elevator? What if an enemy’s dodging defenses don’t matter to a character who’s extremely fast?

In extremely complicated game systems like Dungeons & Dragons, you can have speed represent things like a to-hit bonus, or, more importantly in this case, you could have it represent a reduction to an enemy’s dodge bonus: sure, it won’t make you better at hidding a big chunky armoured dude, because her armour class is all about presenting metal plates into your attacks, but if you attack a skinny little whippy boi, she might be instead avoiding you with a wholehearted dodge, and being ‘faster’ than her might make her very easy to strike by comparison.

And that’s that! Go go go go!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#GDQ2023

[demonsfate]

Would anything negative happen as a result of possibly trying to separate Jin from Devil Jin?

Good question! I genuinely don't really know because frankly. I don't know the exact science of Jin and Devil Jin - especially in modern depictions (as I've discussed many times before on this blog, the Devil Gene is something that's been retconned to hell in the series because the writers also didn't know how it worked or how they wanted it to work initially.)

But interestingly enough, it's highly theorized this has happened in a noncanon, what if ending - which was Dragunov's ending from TEK5 Dark Resurrection. As well...

Dragunov has DJ in a tank, and ordered for Evil Mad Scientist guy to pull the lever. After doing so, DJ starts screaming and thrashing in agony.

and then in a separate tank that's connected to the one DJ is in, something suddenly appears. Due to all the bubbles, and blurriness of said tank, it's very difficult to see what it is other than it's glowing eyes. Many people theorize this is Dragunov separating Devil (Jin) from Jin. However, other people theorize it's him bringing Jinpachi back from the dead once more, or even resurrecting Ogre using the devil gene. Whatever it is. It's unknown.

Due to the ideas introduced in TEK7 particularly. I depict DJ as someone who was with Jin at birth (rather than the TEK3 explanation that DJ is just... half of Devil Kaz who possessed Jin - because I have a few reasons why that doesn't rly make much sense to me, especially with updated lore.) And I personally don't see DJ being able to survive without a host - he needs one, and I don't think he can just choose to possess willy - nilly. Jin is his host - especially because it seems that the Hachijo blood is what harbors these devils. Therefore, it can be very likely that only humans with the Hachijo blood can handle them. Likely due to a contract they made with Azazel hundreds of years ago, and they were originally fierce assassins.

Whilst it may be possible for DJ to take on another host if some mumbo jumbo science nonsense as above had happened. But I think it would be a very difficult process, and one that could end up killing both DJ and Jin. I feel it'd be like a complicated and risky surgery, practically.

And essentially, I don't think DJ can live without a host - unless someone was to genetically create his own body for him to be in control of. (Which I guess... given that there are technical zombies in this game, as well as very humanoid robots - that could be possible.)

[journeydb]

September 14 2021 Loveland and Boulder CO

I was SO proud of Hobie in his technician’s uniform showing me his bay at the Ford dealership in Loveland where he works.  His dream for so many years while he was taking apart vehicles and teaching himself to put them back together was to be a mechanic.  When he decided he had taught himself everything he could, he went to Lincoln College of Automotive Engineering for eighteen months and graduated in July 2020.  His knowledge of technology from building computerized test systems, as well as his own computers, helped him pass some VERY demanding and technical courses.  Out of thirty students who began with him, only five graduated.  He had four job offers before he even graduated. 

I was AMAZED to see how well organized his tools are, and CLEAN!  If you saw the inside of his truck, you’d know what I mean!  Anyway, he is VERY good at what he does and he enjoys it so we are very happy for him.  It’s always bittersweet to see our son before we take off for several months away from him and Katie and we miss them very much while we’re gone, but I keep telling myself that it goes faster than I always think it will.

Tonight I attended the Social Venture Partners (SVP) Boulder County’s Twenty First Anniversary Celebration and Partners’ Meeting at the home of Claire, the chair of the SVP board, Her home and yard are large and impressive and the views from her yard were AMAZING!

This is the first partners’ meeting we’ve been able to hold in person for over a year and people were extremely happy to be together again, especially at such a lovely venue.

Claire’s house reminds me of an elegant version of a prairie ranch, with the wraparound porches. We had a GREAT turnout and we were glad because it was a very important meeting.  The Culture Working Group, of which Claire is chair and I’m a member, introduced to the partners the document we have been working on for two years to assess our organization’s progress with expanding diversity, equity, and inclusion and suggestions for increasing DEI.  We are also suggesting SVP partners and staff work to change not only our culture but also to help the nonprofits with which we work bring about culture change within their organizations.  We are asking the partners to read the report and give us feedback before SVP finalizes it at our Spring 2022 meeting.

After I read the land acknowledgement which recognized and honored that we were on sacred land of the Ute, Arapaho, and other Native American nations, our CEO, Josh, kicked off the meeting.

During the meeting partners Brittny Wilson and Nia Wassink, who co-host a podcast called the “Nonprofit Reframe”, led us in a fundraising exercise to increase donations on an individual basis, beyond our partnership donations, to the nonprofit community of Boulder County.  They did a great job and I think our impact will extend even further to help those in our community who need it the most.  I’m so glad Bruce and I were part of the founding group of partners who envisioned and turned into a reality this very important organization twenty-one years ago.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself

pairing/genre: Taehyung x reader, idol!reader x idol!taehyung

premise: When you lock eyes with your soulmate, you’re immediately teleported to them. So, technically it’s not your fault that you ended up in Kim Taehyung’s lap for all to see.

word count: 1.3k

[1/2]

requested by @marianeamine​ - thanks for the fun request! a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! (also, can we just enjoy Yoongi’s tiny clapping in the background of this gif? lol)

The lights are nearly blinding as you move across the stage, basking in the fan-chants you can hear around the giant venue. You don’t claim to be anything like EXO or BTS...but still, you would be lying if you didn’t get some sort of satisfaction at the considerable amount of fans that made it to MAMA this year.

You watch as one of your group members takes the center as you’d practiced, the other two of you flanking her and pushing hard through the final notes of the song. 

Your little trio, while new to the competitive world of K-pop, had an amazingly successful year. When you were invited to perform not one but two of your hit songs on stage at one of the most prestigious award shows of the year, you were floored.

Now, locking eyes with your other bandmate as all three of you hit the final note - which is nothing short of a miracle, considering how hard you’re breathing right now - you can’t help but smile.

What a year it’s been. 

Together, the three of you sink to the floor, keeping those smiles on your faces until lights fade and the cameras go elsewhere. You were instructed to remain sitting on this portion of the stage for about a minute after the performance, due to the hosts coming out on the opposite end of the room and needing to rearrange this corner. It was deemed too dangerous for you all to get down just yet, but you don’t mind.

Now that you don’t have those blinding lights focused on you, you can actually see out into the crowd. Your heart swells as you spot all of your fans with signs and lightsticks, a few of them still trying to see your group through the darkness. It’s tempting to wave at them, but you refrain, not wanting to draw attention away from the hosts. 

“Dude,” Jiwoo scoots closer to you, Ari leaning over as well to hear what she’s whispering, “Is it just me, or did Yeonjun just get like...1000 times hotter?”

You refrain from laughing, instead craning your neck to get a look. “Where’s TXT?”

Jiwoo gives you subtle directions, not daring to point at him for fear of some fancams picking up on her newfound obsession. That would be a PR disaster. 

“They’re kind of hard to see from this angle,” Ari explains, having already found them. “They’re sitting right behind BTS though.”

Well, you know where BTS is sitting. Everyone, whether they like it or not, is automatically tuned in to where the biggest band in the world is sitting. 

You look over at them, eyes jumping over them to see TXT behind them. You grin. “Yeah, they all look really good.”

“Yeah,” Jiwoo huffs. “But Yeonjun looks sooo good, right?”

Squinting your eyes in an effort to get a better look, you’re a little shocked when certain BTS members sense your stare.

You watch with utter embarrassment as Jimin chuckles at your group, nudging Taehyung and mumbling something to him.

“Er...guys...” you begin, praying that Taehyung won’t look this way. How embarrassing, they probably think that you’re gawking at them not TXT.

You don’t get to finish your sentence as you see Taehyung glancing up, saying something to Jimin as he locks eyes with you.

The darkness from your corner of the stage suddenly becomes absolute, wind whistling in your ears as you gasp for air. The strange sensation doesn’t last long, and soon you’re slamming into something solid and warm.

Peeking one eye open, you’re met with fluffy dark hair, and arms that wrap around your waist to keep you from slipping off. 

Before you’re even able to understand what’s happening, you hear it. People whispering, a few even crying out in distress. Did something bad happen?

Straightening up, you let out a little squeak at you find yourself staring straight into the cocoa-dipped eyes of Kim Taehyung. His lips have parted, making it seem like he was gasping just a moment ago. One of his earrings glints in the light, casting him in a diamond-like glow.

Overall, he doesn’t seem to be faring much better than you, but as you go to move away because you’re on the man’s lap, he instinctively tightens his grip. 

“Let her go, Tae,” Namjoon grounds out from the other end of the seats, and it seems like only then does Taehyung begin to hear the obvious uproar and excitement from fans and idols. He gives you an apologetic smile, loosening his grip. 

You fail to return the smile, too dazed to even register what just happened. Rising to your feet, you suddenly become ultra aware of all the cameras that appear to be pointed in your direction.

“Hyung...” Tae murmurs, noticing the cameras as well. Before anything else can be said, you’re nearly tackled as Jiwoo and Ari come rushing over, eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” Jiwoo pants, looking over every square in of your body as though expecting to find a gaping wound. You give her a shaky nod, still struggling to find your voice. 

“...what...what just happened?” You croak out.

Staff from both Bighit and your own agency rush over, forming a packed circle around your trio and BTS. There’s a collective groan that goes around the building from those who’s view is now obstructed, but you pay them no mind.

“Hello,” one staff member says with a gentle smile that immediately puts you at ease. “You’re probably feeling a little strange, right?” You nod. 

Staff are in the process of speaking to Namjoon and the other members, Jiwoo and Ari joining them. Despite the situation, you can’t help but giggle at the fact that Jiwoo is still attempting to discreetly get a look at Yeonjun.

Taehyung comes to stand across from you, eyes flitting between you and the staff member. 

“We’re going to take you guys backstage, alright?” She asks, and the two of you mutely nod. “Stay in the circle, keep your heads down.”

She goes over to check that the other members are alright to stay at the award show or come backstage. They all want to come, but Namjoon looks around the room and comes to a decision.

“We’ll go back in a little while,” he says, ignoring Jungkook’s pout. “I think it might be best for us to stay and act normal. Maybe it’ll help people calm down.”

You don’t bother telling him that it probably won’t do much, you do appreciate the intention.

“Alright! Let’s go!”

Surrounded by staff and bodyguards, you feel like you’ve been swallowed up. Shuffling forward, you turn to look for Taehyung and are shocked when he sidles up next to you and laces his fingers through yours. He gives you a smile, making sure to keep his head down as instructed.

“Hey,” he mumbles, practically making you melt.

You blink up at him, unconsciously sliding a little closer. “Hey.”

“You did really well up there,” he nods to where the stage must be. 

“T-thank you.”

He grins again at your shyness, giving your hand a little squeeze. “Are you excited?”

You frown. “For what?”

Holding up your intertwined hands, Taehyung chuckles. “For this.”

“Ah,” you take a moment to look at your hands, marveling at how perfect they look together. “Definitely.” Then, getting a bit of courage, you grin. “Actually, could you do me a favor?”

He immediately nods, eyes never leaving your face. “Anything.”

“You need to introduce Yeonjun and Jiwoo.”

Taehyung immediately bursts into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls now that you’re backstage. “Really?”

Before you can respond, the same staff member from before rushes past you with a shocked expression. “What just happened?” You ask the people surrounding you.

An older bodyguard takes his hat off and scratches his head, laughing quietly to himself. “Another pair of soulmates made eye contact.”

“Again?!” Both you and Taehyung asks, caught between shock and amusement. “Who?”

Your answer comes in the form of the door to backstage flying open, a second group of bodyguards and assorted staff rushing toward you. Taehyung pulls you closer to him to keep you from getting trampled. As the sea of staff parts, your jaw drops open and you can’t help but laugh.

Because there’s Jiwoo and Yeonjun, staring at each other with reddened cheeks and sheepish grins.

“Well,” Taehyung whispers down to you. “That was easy.”

masterlist || pt. 2