#boost speed of a computer

[invinciblerodent]

I fucking swear just reaching the goddamn Netherbrain is the single most annoying part of this entire game

(HOW CAN YOU GET KNOCKED OUT OF A GLOBE OF INVULNERABILITY. HOW. HOW DOES THAT WORK. WE WERE ALL INVULNERABLE. HOW DID THEY TOUCH US. GAAAHHHHHHH.)

[ajdrawshq]

on that note. heyy wait no nvm what i was abt to say i think i just found the glitch in the matrix here.. OHHHHH I DID

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[strangelysamantha]

good girl ✧

eddie munson x fem!reader.

warnings: smut. MDNI!! 18+!! swearing; slight degradation if you squint. pure filth.

summary: eddie munson loves eating pussy, better yet he loves fucking you after he’s already made you crumble.

a/n: i want to write more to distract myself but im too lazy to grab my computer so this is written on my phone. like and reblog if you enjoy. eddie is hot 🩷 also im changing the intro to my stories bc i feel like some of it was unnecessary lol ^~^

-————————————————-

“god you’re so fucking pathetic.” eddie grabbed your throat, looking directly into your eyes. “you must want my cock so bad, hmm?” he used his finger to feel your clothed pussy. “soaking wet and i’ve barely even touched you.” you groan, the anticipation creeping up. “please ed,” you whimper softly, rutting your hips forward. “i need you so bad.” he tsks, standing straight. he locks his eyes with yours, slowly undoing his belt. his cock was hard, desperate for your touch, but he wanted to make you beg for him.

“why should i fuck you?” he questions, his pants are down now, his hard length protruding through his underwear. you frown, realizing what he was leading up too. “eddie please.” he shakes his head, “cmon baby, tell me.” you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath. “i need you to touch me.” he leans forward, “not good enough.” he stands up again, furthering the distance. “please all night you’ve been teasing me. i just want you to fuck me.” he sighs contentedly, placing a kiss on your lips. your hunger kicked into overdrive and you immediately kiss him back, your tongue fighting with his. you wrap your arms around his neck, holding tightly onto him. he pulls away and you immediately frown. “let me help you with these.” he leans down, removing the lacey material, exposing your pussy.

“promise im all yours?” you enthusiastically shake your head, “im all yours ed’s i promise.” he reaches his two fingers towards your mouth. “open.” you happily oblige, “wider.” he sets his fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to wet them. “such a good girl.” he leans on the bed with you now.

you were in a quite vulnerable position, legs wide. eddie licked his lips, his eyes mentally taking note of your exposed body. he places his wet fingers inside of you, slowly stretching you out. “i gotta get you nice and ready for my cock; yeah?” you couldn’t manage to utter a single word, so you just watch him in awe. he reaches forward, now using his tongue to lap against your clit. you throw your head back; a small moan escaping you. this made his heart speed up, he continued at a quick place, licking your pussy and thrusting his fingers into you. your hands grab his hair, keeping his face close to your cunt. “so good ed’s, feels so good.” he continues; seeing you crumble beneath him gave him an ego boost, and you were very aware. but eddie munson was really good at eating pussy, and with all the attention he focused on your clit, he was soon making you approach your first orgasm.

his free hand grabs your thigh tightly, his fingers leaving red marks into your fleshy skin. “don’t stop, please,” you hook your legs around him, forcing him close to your pussy. “i’m gonna cum.” he helps you through your high, your legs shaky slightly. “you taste so good sweetheart.” you shake your head, now embarrassed. “don’t be embarrassed baby, that was really sexy.” you decide to make the next move, eager to feel him inside you.

you sit up; reaching for his underwear. you pull it down to reveal his cock. it’s hard, throbbing; and there’s a decent amount of precum leaking from his red tip. you reach out, stroking him. he groans under your touch. “gonna fuck you so good.” you lay back on the bed, opening your legs for eddie. “then fuck me.” he smirks at your comment, but decides you’ve earned it. he pumps his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance. “i need you eddie.” he kisses your neck, biting your skin. he slowly inserts himself, ensuring he wasn’t hurting you too bad. he slowly pushes in and out, he always waited for your approval. he wanted to make sure you were having a good experience too.

you let out a small whine, his cock was deep inside of you, that mixed with his hands gripping your hips, was sending you into blissful peace. “god your pussy is perfect.” he hides his face into the crevice of your neck. he reached a hand down, playing with your bundle of nerves. “love when you take my cock.” he’s going menacingly slow now, irritation taking over. “eddie faster.” he chuckles, “no please?” he lifted an eyebrow at you, removing his hand from your clit. “eddie. please, please fuck me.” he nods, his hands gripping your hips. he slams his cock further into you, a relentless fast pace following your demands.

you stare directly at eddie, watching his face contort into pleasure, his mouth open slightly, his curls falling in front of his eyes. you reach forward to move his hair to the side, immediately latching your lips onto his.

he swiftly pulls out, “get on your hands and knees for me?” you smile, “anything.” you switch into the different position, your ass arched perfectly in front of him. he lines himself up with you again; eager to continue fucking you. “fuck you’re gonna be the death of me.” he slaps your ass, squeezing it. “could fuck you like this everyday.” he pushes you down, now face to face with the mattress. he was incredibly turned on, the only thing on his mind was filling you with his cum. “eddie fuck you’re cock is so big.” his dick continued to hit that spot inside of you, his hands grabbing everything they could; your hips, thighs, ass, he couldn’t get enough of you. you reach down to circle your clit, small moan falls from your lips. “we’re alone baby.” you look back at him, “i know.” he smirks, “it doesn’t sound like you know. let me hear your moans.” he continues to drill into you, you stop muffling your moans and started to let go. letting the pleasure engulf you, “i know i make you feel good. no one else can fuck you like this, can they?” he questions, you shake your head, “no ed’s only you-.” you arch your back again; the angle allowing eddie to burry himself further into you. “fuck you make me feel so good eds.”

“want you to cum for me.” your eyes are shut now; the pleasure filling your stomach with butterflies, “be a good girl, cum around my cock.” his words only get you there faster. “gonna cum, please let me cum.” your hand dropped and he quickly used his fingers to replace the friction you had previously lost. “that’s it.” your body shakes as your orgasm washes over you. “gonna cum inside your pussy.” you moan at his words, and how eagerly he was using your sloppy hole. “such a slut. you want me to fill you with my cum? yeah?” you nod, worn out. “yes please.” he needs more, “beg for it.” you tighten around him, “give me your cum eds, i want you to cum.” you continue to babble, “fill me up please.” he moans, his cock twitching. “awh fuck yes.” his pace slows down as his high approached, his seed leaking out of you. “god that was perfect.” your eyes are sleepy; “eddie you’re really good at sex.” he laughs, “baby, when you’re pussy feels that perfect i’m obligated to work harder.” you bite your lip at his confession, “i gotta work to be able to keep your pussy, right?” you grin, “yeah, you’re right.” he smiles brightly, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he leads you to the bathroom. while you use the toilet he wets a washcloth with warm water. he gently cleans you up. he places a kiss on your forehead, then one on your lips. he grabs you a new pair of underwear. he helps you slide them on. “you’re all i’ll ever need baby.” his words comfort you, and you follow him back to his bed. “i only want you.” he kisses you’re forehead again, “get some rest baby, i know your sleepy.” you look up at him, “very sleepy. goodnight eds.” you cuddle into him, you breathing slow. “i love you.” you softly mutter. he rubs your back, “i love you.”

[owlcomics101]

”Zoomies.” Task force 141 x Cheetah hybrid!user

Warning: SFW (I am a minor), fluff, cussing/swearing, cat shenanigans

You were a cheetah hybrid. You had the cheetah ears, tail, fangs, and feet paws. You were a great asset to the task force for your speed and agility accept, there was one problem; You get the ‘zoomies’. If you have an off day or a mission that didn’t involve a full on chase. All that built up energy needed to be released at some point. You were sitting in Price’s office, helping him out with some reports when your legs started to bounce. Your fingers tap against the table anxiously as you held one of the files in your hands and tried to focus on reading it. Price looked away from his computer screen-noticing your fidgeting.

“You alright there Y/N?” He asked with a skeptical brow, to which you tried to play it off with a head nod before going back to your paper. Price cocked his head to the side seeing your tail thrashing back and forth violently and smacking against your chair. He couldn’t help but slightly smirk in amusement.

“You’re fidgeting, love.” He points out. You let out a huff looking away from him.

“No-……So what? I’m just a bit finicky right now….” You grumble, griping the paper tightly until your knuckles turned white. Price couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Look, if we get this done I’ll take you outside. How does that sound?” He tried offering a compromise, trying to have something to motivate you to work. Your ears couldn’t help but perk up at the offer.

“Really?” You asked with a low purr rumbling in your throat“Really, mate.” Price replied. Amused by your low purr that you hadn’t even noticed occur. Your ears rested flat against your head as you went right to work, determined to finish early before it was lights out for everyone. Price let out a small sigh of relief. Finally getting your ‘zoomies’ under control. That was until there was a large thud in the hallway. Price immediately got up from his desk and walked over to the door and opened it to see what the racket was all about.

“What the bloody hell is going on out here!?” Price shouts, only to be met with Soap being chased by Ghost down the hall. Gaz on the floor who seemed to have been caught by surprised and trampled by the two, but Gaz was just too fed up with them to get up anymore.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK JOHHNY-RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CUT YOUR BLOODY TONGUE OFF!” Ghost shouts. Your ears perk up at this as you look over to see Ghost tackling Soap to the ground and attempting to choke Soap out.

“Y-You c-an’t escape the t-truth L.T!” Soap said between choked breaths. Price storming over and pulling Ghost off of Soap.

“Would you muppets cut the shitte out!? Y/N are trying to get some fucking work done and you two are just sitting here acting like childr-“

“Uhh…..guys?” Gaz interrupts Price slowly standing to his feet.

“What!?” Price snaps looking back at Gaz before his eyes widen. All four of them see you staring back at them with dilated pupils and teeth bared, your shoulders slightly shifting as if your getting ready to pounce.

“Oh shit….” Soap muttered

“Fucking hell-“ Ghost was cut off by you bolting out of Price’s office and sprinting towards them. Soap struggled to get up as they all panicked trying to get out of the way but just kept bumping into each other like a pair of idiots.

“Y/N no-Please just take a moment to breathe-“ Price tried to deescalate the situation but you immediately tackled him to the ground. Knocking the air straight out of him as he wheezed. You looked down at Price before looking back up to see Soap running ahead.

“Soap stop running!-Your gonna give Y/N the wrong idea-“ Ghost tried to get Soap to stop but you used Ghost as a boost and jumped onto Ghost’s shoulders and jump off to tackle Soap.

Cut to the team lying in makeshift beds in the infirmary, all of them covered in head to toe with bruises and scratches from you. You were given catnip to ‘calm down’. They all stared at you playing with a toy mouse. All of them still out of breath and wheezing from the chase. Ghost and Soap will think twice before arguing with each other again.

[secretsnowclub]

Building a Time Machine to Review Lancer

This article begins with Snow completing a time machine and traveling back to the year 2006. Snow appears in her childhood bedroom with her Fourteen-Year-Old Self [from now referenced as 14].

Snow: I’ve come from the future to ask you some questions. I’m struggling to review this book.

14: I become a girl?

Snow: We don’t have time for that. I’m only here for the book.

Snow holds up Lancer, the 2020 Mecha TTRPG from Massif Press. Funded on kickstarter in 2019 to the tune of $432,029 on the back of a long beta-phase, facilitated by the Lancer subreddit, and the vibrant illustrations of Tom Parkinson Morgan, creator of Kill Six Billion Demons, the wildly successful web comic.

Snow doesn’t tell this to 14 because it would take too long to explain that, in the future, people could have a job like that and make that kind of money. And if 14 knew, then the entire trajectory of her life would change.

14: Makes sense. It’s really big. What’s a Lancer?

Snow: Like 500 pages, but It’s not important. It’s like a Gundam.

14: Like Gundam SD? Zaku Zaku hour?

Snow: No.

14: Like G Gundam? With the horse guy?

Snow: No. I thought you were cooler than this.

14: Shrugs. So it’s just a mecha thing? Mechs are cool. That art’s really sick. Can I be that guy on the front?

Snow: Ideally. It’s like 4th Edition. Has that come out yet? Never mind, you’ll like it. Here. Hands 14 the book. I want you to read through it and tell me what you think.

14 opens the book, flipping a few pages, then cuts the book in half, flipping quickly through the front and middle.

Snow: What’s that? What’re you doing?

14: I never read the front stuff. I tried with D20 Modern, but it’s all just kinda boring. I wanna make a mech. In the Naruto game we played, making your ninja was the best part.

Snow and 14 sit on the floor with some paper and make their mechs.

Snow: It says here that all new players start with the same basic frame, the Everest.

14 flips to the Everest.

14: There’s no picture for it.

Snow: Well, my guess is that they let you make it look however you want since everyone starts with it.

14: The others have pictures though, and look how cool they are. The Blackbeard, the Drake, the Nelson. I wanna be the Nelson. Look at the cape!

Snow: Can you make sense of the stats and stuff?

14: I mean, it mostly makes sense. I don’t know what Repair Cap is. Or Heat or anything like that. But the traits are cool. Boost is probably an action. Immobilized or Slowed make sense as conditions. And the Skirmisher ability is so cool. I’m like, gliding through the battlefield with a spear, cutting down mechs and backflipping away.

Snow: Okay so…

Snow bookmarks page 140 with a finger and flips back to page 30. She does this several times before reading through to page 36.

14, bored, tries to draw a mech.

Snow: Um, ah, I see. So these things are your stats, like in Star Wars or Pathfinder.

14: What’s Hull?

Snow: That’s like your strength. It says “Roll Hull when smashing through or pulverizing obstacles.” But you won’t know what your Hull bonus is until you make your pilot. They get mech skill points to put into your mech stats. We need more bookmarks if we’re gonna do this..

14: Mom’s got the printer. A lot of books are big and confusing, so I just print off the important pages. You really only need like 20 of them to figure out the game I bet.

Snow: Speed is movement, Evasion is kind of like Armor Class, Sensor is your range to detect enemies and use hacking things on them, and E-Defense is Armor Class for hacking, but Heat is like HP for hacking, and then Stress is like Structure but for hacking, so, like, Structure and Stress are, like, if you drop to 0HP, you lose a Structure and regain all HP and kinda do it all over again, so it’s like extra lives, except you might get a scar or something, same for Stress–

14: Mom’s got the printer.

14 sits at a buzzing Dell computer on the enclosed front porch while the bulky printer spits out some pages in jagged black and white ink.

Snow reads about combat.

Snow: Do you still have the old gundam figurines? I think we put them in the basement. I don’t remember when.

14: I’m not sure, why?

Snow: First of all, don’t let mom throw them away. She’s gonna throw away a lot of your stuff and you’ll wish you still had when you get to where I am. Secondly, we can use them for combat. It’s grid-based, so we’ll have to figure that out. Get a map or something.

14: I hate grids.

Snow ignores 14 and continues to read.

14: Figure all that out yet?

Snow: Yeah, I think so. I think it’s actually really simple, just that everything’s spread out. You’re just rolling a D20-plus-stuff against the static numbers to see if you hit. Then your attachments can raise the static numbers. Accuracy and Difficulty are like additional modifiers that can happen with cover or if you’re affected by a status. It’s just like D&D. But with mechs.

14: It does just kinda give you a buncha numbers.

Snow: We also just flipped to the mechs though, so–

14: But that’s why we’re here though, right? I don’t want to read about all this random stuff. I want to take the mechs and play the game in as little time as possible. If I have to sit and explain all this to the guys, they’re gonna be so bored. They’d rather play Star Wars or something.

Snow: You think it would be better if you opened the book and it was just mechs right up front?

14: It sounds kinda silly when you say it like that. It’s more that, it being a big book you already know it’s going to be boring, right? They always are. I feel like the good version of such a big, mecha book is that it would be filled with mechs. It should be filled with pre-built pilots and just, like, the rules for making your own if you want to. The art is so cool, why would you want to start by building your own mech when you could pick this cool gunslinger one? If I opened this book and it was just like “pick a pilot and pick your mech, here’s a grid so you can fight and here’s the one page with all the basic rules on it,” then I could play it right now and we wouldn’t be sitting here waiting for these pages to print.

The printer stutters.

Snow: Would it make you feel any different if I told you this was made by just two people?

14: What? Really? Why?

Snow: Well, not only two people. Miguel Lopez and Tom Parkinson Morgan wrote and designed the whole thing. Tom and a bunch of others did the art. It was edited by Melody Watson and the layout was done by Minerva McJanda.

14: I don’t know who any of those people are.

Snow: It was a small team, is what I’m trying to say.

The printer whirs to a stop.

14: But look, I just put together the important parts so that we can actually play. And I’m fourteen.

14 and Snow continue talking, sitting at the dining room table.

Snow: What about the GM section? Won’t you need it to run the game?

14: No. I’ve seen Gundam Seed and Patlabor and Appleseed. I’ll just do that but with, like, a Death Star or something.

Snow: Just take a look. I want your opinion on it.

14 skims the section.

14: GM Principles. Facilitate fun, no duh. Renounce control? That’s a no brainer. Just last week the group killed the big bad in the Star Wars campaign in the first session. Funniest shit that’s ever happened.

Snow: Haha, I remember that.

14: Consider your players… I’m sorry, but what is this? Is this book trying to teach me how to be a good friend to my friends?

Snow: Well, maybe you’re not playing with friends?

14: Why would I do that? And why would playing with strangers make me act like a jerk all of a sudden?

Snow: Shrugs. Remember that game at the card shop when that new worker ran a game and was killing everyone’s characters for fun?

14: Yeah…that sucked. But that guy was just a jerk. He got fired for stealing Magic cards or something, I think.

Snow: Well, maybe the idea is that if this is in the book, stuff like that won’t happen or can be stopped. Y’know, like a kid reading this might feel comfortable enough to speak up.

14: The only reason we didn’t speak up was because he was an adult. We knew he was a jerk the whole time, we just wanted it to be over so we could go do something else. Maybe if adults weren’t assholes things would be better.

Snow: I understand.

Beat.

Snow: I kinda like the questions here under Eliciting Responses. Those are actionable and could be nice for awkward pauses.

14: Yeah, those are alright.

14 and Snow sit at the table having just finished making pilots.

Snow: How’d you like that?

14: That was kinda fun. The pilot portraits are really cool. There’s a lot of cool art in here that makes me really want to be those people. The backgrounds remind me of D20 Modern, but they’re actually useful here. I like the Triggers and I want to make a bunch of them. I can’t wait to see what the group ends up making.

Snow: My favorite part is that all skill checks are just trying to beat a 10. I’ve stolen that for some of my own games.

14: Wait, you make games?

Snow: Yeah. It’s sort of why I’m doing this interview with you.

14: Oh, so this is your job?

Snow: Thinks for a moment. No, this is just sort of a compulsion. But my job is making games. I’ve made a few.

14: That’s really cool. I didn’t even know that could be a job.

Snow: You’re gonna like it. It’ll be a while before it happens though. You’ve gotta go through some things first.

14: Ignores her. But yeah, I really like the pilot stuff. I could honestly see us using that for its own game. I don’t know, my mind has like six different ideas for a campaign right now. You could use this as like pilots for fighter planes, or race cars, or like even some kind of Code Lyoko situation.

Snow: Is that important to you? Being able to reuse ideas or think of new ways to use what’s in the book?

14: Well…I think it’s more that the book showed me an easy way to make ideas I already had into a reality. Like, we always wanted to run a zombie game, but with D&D it didn’t feel right. After we read D20 Apocalypse though, it felt more natural.

Snow: That’s a good thought. What about Section 2: Missions and Downtime?

14: I probably won’t use any of it.

Snow: Why not?

14: I don’t know. Like I said before, I’ve seen Gundam. I already know the stories I want to have. I think that’s the easiest part.

Snow: What’s the hard part then?

14: Um, maps, enemies. Cool rival pilots. Things that give me more ideas. I don’t really need it to tell me how to do a mission or whatever. I’ve watched Saving Private Ryan and I’ve played Medal of Honor, so… the only thing missing is the inspiration. Stuff I couldn’t think about by just sitting and watching T.V.

Snow: And what about the downtime actions?

14: I don’t know.

Snow: No opinions?

14: Shrugs. Same answer, I guess.

Snow: Do you think the rest of the book is used well?

14: I don’t really know what you mean by “used well.” But it’s a lot of information to parse. They can’t expect I’ll read this all at once, or even read it all before I play the game. There’s so many templates and different types of NPCs. Tons of symbols for weapons and attacks. It’s just a lot of information that my brain can’t really make sense of right now.

Snow: Do you wish it were simplified?

14: I think we both agree that the game is rather simple, the actual rules are easy to learn, but the way it’s presented makes it hard to grasp.

Snow: Yeah, I agree. But when I actually stop to read any of it, the ideas are pretty good and usable. Like, reading the Sniper NPC gives me an idea for an encounter. But you’re right, it is A LOT. But I don’t think it’s any more or less than, say, what the Monster Manual has, for instance.

14: Yeah, but there’s so many optional things. The Monster Manual really just gives you one instance of a thing, so you can take out, like, a dragon, and just use it right then. You don’t have to build it or be selective about it. I don’t really know if one way of doing it is better, I just know that I feel overwhelmed by the book right now and will probably just make a lot of stuff up on the fly as we play.

Snow: I understand.

Beat.

Snow: I wish mom would take you to the doctor.

14: Huh? Why?

Snow: It’s nothing. There’s so many things I wish I could tell you–so many things you’ll learn between now and when you become me–

14: A girl?

Snow: Unphased. And you’ll wish that maybe someone paid more attention. So many things that would help you make sense of who you are and how your brain works.

14: Wait, are you crying?

Snow: No, no.

14 and Snow run a few rounds of combat, just the two of them. 14 pilots the Nelson, decked out with a Custom Paint Job, Expanded Compartment, and Manipulators. The last of 14’s SP is spent to get the Type-1 Flight System. So now the Nelson counts as flying while it boosts towards enemies, War Pike at the ready. Sides strapped with two pistols and a shotgun in case things get hairy.

Snow builds out Horus’s Pegasus model but doesn’t use it for the combat. Instead, they control a few squads of infantry and an Archer NPC with the Flier Ship Template.

Snow sets the scene: 14 is sent behind enemy lines to take out a ship that holds a nuclear armament. It’s set to leave the atmosphere this evening and must be grounded.

The fight is slow and methodical. They listen to the Halo 2 Movement Suite the entire time.

Snow: That was fun.

14: Yeah, that was epic. I don’t normally like grids, but it kinda makes sense with mechs. It’d be really fun to, like, be the pilot and do Gundam Wing stuff before getting into this big conflict that’s, like, really intense.

Snow: I bet it might get a little monotonous with all the guys here.

14: Naw. They love it when combat takes forever. I think it’ll be even better with more people. You can use strategy and talk to each other about where you’re gonna go and who you’re gonna attack. Coordinate stuff. I’m sure there’s a limit to how many people you can add before it’s too much, but that’s true of everything.

Snow: Good point.

14: I can’t wait to play some more tonight.

14 and Snow sit quietly for a moment.

Snow: Well I should really get back. Do you think I should leave the book with you or take it back with me?

14: If you need it, you can keep it.

Snow: It’s your choice, kid. I came here for you.

14: I’ll definitely keep it then.

Snow hands over the book to 14. They don’t hug or anything. They just stand there as awkward reflections of each other.

Snow: So…you like it after all?

14: Yeah. It’s really cool. I’ll probably read it all some day. Or not. I’ll probably just make up the stuff that makes my brain all fuzzy.

Snow: Good plan.

Snow says goodbye to 14 and steps back through into the present.

When they return, on their desk is a beat-up copy of Lancer. The pages are torn, some removed completely. Spine bent. Water damaged. Notes written in the margins. Black marker crosses out enough to make it look like poetry.

And atop it, a solitary Gundam figurine sits waiting.

You can find lancer on itch.io.

If you enjoy writing like this, consider supporting my patreon and following my substack, where this and many more articles have been available already~

[bts-preference]

1. How he looks at you

Namjoon: Like you’re the answer to everything - He had always devoured books at lightning speed, which he rationalized as his way of searching for answers to make sense of this crazy, fucked up world. Yet, now, when he looks at you, everything seems to fall in place. With you in front of him, a wave of relief and contentment envelops him. To him, everything seems calmer, orderly, sensible. He realizes he had been looking for answers in the wrong places this whole time. "How do you do it?" he eventually asks you one evening after you catch him staring. When you ask him what he means, he expands, "Make me feel like everything is going to be OK."

Jin: With tears in his eyes - With his schedule, it had been a few days since you last saw one another. So when you were finally able to spend an evening together, he brought with him an arsenal of jokes -knock-knock jokes, puns, nothing was off the table - he had been saving these jokes just for you. As he fired them off, you gave him your best, polite laugh (even when they were actually funny, you held back, not wanting to boost his ego too much). However, when he turned to you to truly gauge your approval of the jokes, you could see tears welling up in his eyes. Of course he would make himself cry from laughing so hard at his own jokes.

Yoongi: With sleepy eyes - It is no surprise to you when you find his side of your shared bed empty at 3 a.m. After slipping out of bed, you find him hunched over his computer, brooding over contemplating a melody that came to him when he was in a half-awake/half-asleep state. As you move to stand next to him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, he turns and looks at you with heavy eyes. Most nights, he would send you back to bed, promising that he would only be five more minutes. But tonight, he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to bed. "Everything will be still here after you get some sleep," you promise him.

Hoseok: With a knowing look - Even in the busiest, most crowded places - when you are across the room from one another - you and Hoseok have learned to communicate effectively with your eyes. "You good? I'm good." "Time to go." "What even just happened?" "Can you believe this person?" All messages sent and received with a quick glance at one another. No one else notices these looks. They are just for you and him. And you always revisit the latter looks after you have left wherever you're coming from. Nearly bursting from having to hold it in, he will need to gossip debrief to make sure you got the same read on the person and/or situation in question.

Jimin: With passion and desire - It started with quick glances from across the table as you, he, and your friend group had dinner together. As the night wore on, his eyes lingered more. At one point, as you talked with your friend sitting next to you, you could feel him undressing you with his eyes. You did your best to not acknowledge him (as it would only encourage him), but your ears began turning red, giving you away. When you got home, he pulled you into his arms immediately. He nuzzled his face into your neck before peppering soft kisses across your collarbones. "Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?" he whispered.

Taehyung: With love, that's it - Is that him, or the heart eyes emoji personified? Because when he looks at you, there really is no difference. When you began dating, the way he looked at you would turn your cheeks red as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You had never felt such intensity so it took a while to get used to, but now you do your best to return such looks. Everything he does (from how he looks at you; to what he says to you; to what he does for you), he does with the intention of making sure you feel loved by him. And when you question if you are doing enough to make him feel loved, he does not hesitate to say, "You are everything to me."

Jungkook: In awe, with wonderment - He always catches you off-guard when you find him staring at you with his brown, boba eyes. "What?" you ask him, gently. "Nothing," he says, quickly looking away. But after thinking about it for a moment, he looks back at you, "You know you're amazing, right?" This conversation is a common occurrence in your relationship - it comes after you cook his favorite meal; after you get a nearly perfect score during one of your karaoke session; after you throw a quick, neat jab when he has asked you to be his sparring partner. You always take him by surprise, in the best way possible.

Note: It has been such a long time since I've tried writing a preference/reaction/imagine. Scrolling through Tumblr, so much has changed, but I wanted to give writing a try again. Let me know if you would like more. I will gladly take requests (I prefer writing fluff). xx

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“The Butcher and The Wolf”pt.2

Commander Wolffe x Princess Reader

R4 trilled while plugging data‑spikes into the sleek shuttle’s nav‑computer; TC polished the boarding ramp as though senators would rate its shine. Inside, [Y/N] sealed a crate of festival gifts—kyber‑laced lanterns, citrus‑spiced tihaar—when the hangar doors parted.

In strode Master Plo Coon and Kenobi, with his most innocent smile. Behind them Commander Cody and an impeccably straight‑backed Commander Wolffe.

Kenobi surveyed the scene, eyes twinkling. “My lady, I trust Coruscant treated you… memorably?”

Plo’s mask inclined. “Yes, I understand you’ve already formed a—shall we say—effective working rapport with our best security personnel.”

TC’s head swiveled. “If you refer to last night’s flawless briefing, Masters, I assure you my presentation notes were—”

“—copied from my schematics,” R4 beeped smugly.

Kenobi chuckled. “Quite. Though some reports suggest the princess herself gathered more… field intelligence than anticipated.”

Wolffe’s helmet visor dipped a millimeter; only Cody saw the pained grimace. He murmured, “Steady, vod, you’ve faced droid armies—Jedi teasing won’t kill you.”

[Y/N] kept a serene smile. “Coruscant was enlightening, Master Kenobi. Your commanders are… thorough.”

“Thorough,” Kenobi echoed, barely suppressing a grin. “An admirable quality.”

Plo produced a data‑chip. “Your Highness, these are revised escort protocols for the festival. The Council looks forward to cooperating.”

Cody added, “Wolfpack leads the clone detachment. We’ll rendezvous in orbit over Karthuna.” He patted Wolffe’s pauldron. “Commander is eager to ensure everything runs smoothly.”

Wolffe managed, “Honored to serve, Princess.” Translation: please let the floor swallow me.

R4 gave a warbling laugh. TC translated dryly, “R4 suggests the commander already has extensive knowledge of our customs—particularly nightlife.”

Kenobi coughed into his sleeve; even Plo’s mask seemed to smile.

[Y/N] ascended the ramp, pausing beside Wolffe. Low enough for only him: “Try not to judge anyone before second breakfast, Commander.”

He answered just as quietly, “Next time, title first, drinks second.”

Her wink was pure mischief. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With diplomatic farewells exchanged, the Jedi departed, Cody dragging a still‑smirking Kenobi. Wolffe lingered as engines warmed, visor reflecting the princess who had upended his meticulously ordered world.

R4’s hatch closed, TC waved primly, and the shuttle lifted skyward—toward open borders, a five‑day festival, and a reunion sure to test the Wolf’s composure more than any battlefield.

⸻

Commander Wolffe had survived orbital bombardments, trench sieges, and General Grievous’s cackling—but nothing tested endurance like the embassy’s protocol droid at full lecture speed.

TC strode the aisle between jump‑seats where Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker buckled in.

“…and the Festival of Dawning begins with a kuur‑vaan procession. That translates roughly as ‘dance of a thousand sparks,’ involving micro‑kyber filaments that ignite in sequence—quite breathtaking, provided you wear appropriate eye shielding. Now, the correct greeting is ‘Gal’shara’ with palms outward—never inward, or you imply the listener lacks honor. Also, avoid offering your left hand—historically used for bloodletting rituals dating back—”

Sinker slumped. “Commander, permission to eject myself through the air‑lock.”

Boost whispered, “Could be worse—could be a Senate speech.”

TC continued, undeterred. “—and if you’re offered sapphire tihaar, remember it’s an apology drink, not casual refreshment. Accepting without cause is tantamount to admitting fault. Speaking of fault, did you know the northern fault‑line—”

Wolffe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Droid, compile this in a datapad. My men will study quietly.”

“Oh, certainly, Commander. I have already prepared a 312‑page primer, complete with holo‑graphs.”

Sinker mouthed three‑hundred‑twelve?! Boost mimed choking.

⸻

[Y/N] sat cross‑legged in her cabin, R4 projecting a secure blue holo of King Talren—silver‑bearded, stern eyes softened only for his daughter.

“Little Dawn,” he greeted, using her childhood nickname, “I won’t waste time. Loyalist scouts uncovered three insurgent cells. Extremists insist reopening our borders is betrayal; some whisper of Separatist aid.”

A map flared beside him—red sigils in mountain passes.

“I need those cells silenced before the festival opens,” the king said. “You know the terrain. Take whatever force is required, but keep off‑worlders uninvolved. This must look like an internal matter.”

[Y/N] bowed her head. “It will be done, Father.”

The holo faded. R4 beeped a query.

“Prep infiltration loadouts,” she answered. “Low‑flash sabers, sonic mines, and two squads of Shadow Guard on standby. We strike first nightfall.”

R4 warbled approval, projecting tactical overlays. She added waypoints, carving silent routes Wolffe’s clones would never notice.

⸻

Later, passing Wolffe in the corridor, [Y/N] offered a casual nod. He paused, as if sensing undercurrents, but protocol kept him silent.

Behind him TC called, “Commander, I neglected to mention Karthunese dining order—if the Princess serves you last, it’s actually a sign of high esteem—”

Wolffe muttered a prayer for battlefield blasterfire to drown out etiquette lessons.

In her quarters, [Y/N] traced insurgent sigils on the holo with a gloved fingertip, resolve hardening. Opening Karthuna’s doors to the galaxy meant showing strength the old way—quiet, decisive, unseen.

And if the Wolf and his troopers never learned how the festival stayed peaceful, all the better.

⸻

The twin suns of Karthuna cast copper light over the obsidian‑paved sky‑dock as the Republic cruiser settled with a hiss of repulsors. King Talren stood flanked by honor guards whose sun‑metal armor threw brilliant flares into the air. Behind him waited the planetary senator, Senator Vessar, and the ever‑skeptical Governor of Interior Works, Governor Rhun.

The ramp dropped. Out strode Masters Plo Coon and Kenobi, Chancellor Palpatine in ceremonial crimson, a cluster of senators, and the clone detachment led by Commanders Cody and Wolffe flanked by Boost and Sinker.

Talren bowed with a warrior’s economy. “Karthuna welcomes the Republic. May the Force greet you as friend and guest.”

A respectful murmur answered. Yet even before introductions concluded, his daughter slipped to his side, murmured, “Urgent Shadow Guard matter, Father,” and—still in civilian vest and braid—beelined for a sand‑silver speeder.

Wolffe’s visor tracked her, but protocol held him. Engines howled; the speeder vanished down a cliff‑side lift‑tube toward the high passes.

Talren inhaled—the first lie ready on his tongue.

⸻

Kenobi stepped forward, large smile in place. “Your Majesty, we look forward to your famous Festival of Dawning.”

“As do we all,” Talren replied, steering the party toward the citadel’s balcony overlooking the festival valley—far from launch bays or military comms.

Chancellor Palpatine clasped gloved hands. “Your daughter leads the festivities, does she not? I had hoped to congratulate her.”

“She prepares a…surprise presentation,” Talren said smoothly. “Artists’ temperaments, Chancellor.”

Governor Rhun muttered just loud enough, “More like a warrior itching for mischief.”

Senator Vessar chimed in, tone dripping dry humor, “I assure our off‑world partners the princess habitually vanishes moments before debuting something spectacular—or spectacularly dangerous.”

Talren fixed them both with a steel‑edged smile that promised discussion later.

Plo Coon shifted his weight, Kel‑Dor mask unreadable. “Your Highness, Clone Commander Wolffe will require coordination with your security captain.”

“Of course.” Talren gestured toward the fortress doors. “Commander, my staff will relay schematics over luncheon. Meanwhile, allow me to show the Chancellor our kyber‑terraced gardens—quite safe, I assure you.”

Wolffe’s unspoken protest died behind the visor; duty bound, he followed Cody toward a briefing alcove where TC awaited with yet another data‑slab. Talren breathed easier: one crisis delayed, if not averted.

As the king guided the diplomats through colonnades, Governor Rhun leaned in: “You risk interstellar incident if the princess sparks bloodshed while the Republic picnics outside our walls.”

Talren’s voice stayed velvet, danger beneath. “Better insurgent blood in the mountains than senator blood in the streets.”

Senator Vessar added, half‑teasing, “If she returns with soot on her boots, I shall schedule extra press holos to reframe it as heroic cultural demonstration.”

Kenobi caught the whisper, grin curving. “Your court seems…spirited, Majesty.”

Talren allowed the tiniest exhale of amusement. “Karthuna has waited fifteen years to step back onto the galactic stage, General. We intend to give a performance worth the ticket.”

Above them, fireworks crews tested micro‑sparklers; bright hisses masked the distant roar of a speeder blazing toward insurgent territory.

In a quiet moment against the balcony rail, Talren gazed over valley tents blooming for festival week, mind split between choreography of diplomats and the razor‑work his daughter undertook beyond those peaks.

He whispered to the wind, “Return swift, Little Dawn.”

⸻

By mid‑afternoon the princess was still missing.

Commander Wolffe stood on the citadel parapet overlooking the valley’s bustling festival city, visor fixed on the distant scar of mountains her speeder had taken.

Local Sun‑Guard Captain Arven stepped up, spearhaft tapping stone.

“Enjoying the view, off‑worlder?”

“I’d enjoy it more if your crown heir were within com‑range,” Wolffe replied. “Transmit her last coordinates.”

“Princess has classified authority.”

Wolffe’s servo‑joint clicked as his gauntlet clenched. “My mandate is to protect every Republic dignitary on this rock—including her.”

Arven smirked. “Karthuna protected itself centuries before troopers in white armor needed it. Stand down, Commander.”

Cody’s voice crackled through Wolffe’s comlink: “Easy, vod. Diplomacy first.”

Wolffe never took his eye from the peaks. Diplomacy ends when the VIP bleeds, he thought—and weighed the odds of “borrowing” a gunship.

New LAATs screamed in, disgorging Jedi and clones.

Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano with the 501st, assigned to guard Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo and a cadre of Core‑World legislators.

Masters Mace Windu and Ki‑Adi‑Mundi arrived with Commanders Ponds and Bacara respectively, doubling ground strength.

Skywalker clapped Wolffe’s pauldron. “Heard your princess pulled a disappearing act—sounds like my kind of trouble.”

“Not helping, General,” Wolffe growled, though Ahsoka’s sympathetic grin eased his temper a notch.

Senators debarked in a flurry of aides, holo‑recorders, and fashion impractical for mountain air. Festival staff hustled to reroute them toward reception halls—distraction, Talren hoped, until his daughter returned.

Master Yoda, leaning on his gimer stick, sought King Talren atop a sun‑warmed terrace strewn with kyber wind‑chimes. The diminutive Jedi regarded the monarch’s sun‑metal cuirass and the twin‑bladed saber at his hip.

“Strong in the Force, your people are,” Yoda began. “Yet light and dark you name not. Curious, this is.”

Talren inclined his head. “Master, on Karthuna we are taught: there is no dawn without night. Deny darkness, and daylight loses meaning. Balance is not the absence of shadow, but its harmony with light.”

“Hmmm.” Yoda’s ears twitched thoughtfully. “Unnatural, you say, to void one side?”

“As unnatural as silencing half a heartbeat,” Talren answered. “We do not fear the shadow; we fear imbalance.”

Wind‑chimes chimed like distant sabers. Yoda closed his eyes, absorbing the resonance.

“Much to learn, even I have,” he murmured. “And much to guard, we both must.”

Talren’s gaze drifted to the mountains. “Agreed, Master Yoda. Balance must sometimes be defended by hidden blades.”

⸻

Sunset torched the valley when a sand‑silver speeder roared through the citadel gates. Clone guards scrambled aside as [Y/N] leapt off, still in dust‑streaked vest and combat shorts. She vaulted a barricade, sprinting for the grand foyer.

“Hey—civilian access is restricted!” bellowed Commander Fox, Crimson Guard staff lowered across her path.

She halted, breath steady despite the climb. “I live here, thanks.”

Before Fox could run ID, Chancellor Palpatine emerged from a delegation knot, eyes narrowing with fox‑like curiosity.

“My dear, racing through secure halls in such…practical attire—is something amiss?”

[Y/N] offered a flawless court bow that contrasted sharply with her grime‑spattered boots. “Merely last‑minute festival preparations, Chancellor. Please excuse me; I must dress for the gala.”

Palpatine’s smile sliced thin. “Ah, duty never rests. I look forward to your presentation this evening.”

Fox straightened as realization dawned. “Wait—you’re—”

She winked. “Classified, Commander.” Then slipped past, leaving red armor and red robes equally bemused.

In her chamber, TC fussed with brocade gowns while R4 powered a sonic shower.

“Your Highness, the schedule is punishing: welcome gala at nineteen‑hundred, holo‑address at twenty‑two, and saber exhibition by dawn.”

“Then we’d better look lethal and lovely,” [Y/N] said, toweling off. She chose a floor‑length gown of midnight silk that clung to sculpted muscle, high slits revealing thigh holsters for compact hilts. Sun‑metal pauldrons mirrored her crown, but the gown’s sleeveless cut displayed the lattice of scars down both arms—plasma burns, shrapnel lines, duelist nicks—each a story she refused to hide.

TC clipped the circlet into her damp hair. “Might I suggest gloves to soften the, ah, impression?”

She flexed scarred fingers. “No. Let the galaxy see what Karthuna’s balance looks like.”

R4 projected her entrance route. She studied it, then smiled. “Time to charm senators, silence rumors, and—perhaps—make a wolf squirm.”

⸻

A fanfare of crystal horns cut through conversation. Doors parted, revealing Princess [Y/N] radiant in midnight silk and sun‑metal crown, scars on her bare arms glinting like silver filigree. Senators gasped—half at the regality, half at the unapologetic battle‑marks.

Master Kenobi murmured to Skywalker, “Grace and menace in equal measure—definitely your type, Anakin.”

Skywalker smirked. “She’d have me for breakfast.”

Padmé Amidala complimented the gown’s craftsmanship; [Y/N] returned praise for Naboo’s relief programs, steering talk away from rumored insurgents.

Master Windu approached her, he attempted to discuss security perimeters; the princess assured him Karthuna’s Shadow Guard had “every shadow covered.”

Across the room, Governor Rhun whispered to holoreporters, stoking stories of her “reckless mountain excursion.” TC hovered, intercepting leading questions with cutting etiquette lessons.

Commander Wolffe, helmet clipped to belt, stood near a terrace arch with Cody and Plo Coon. When [Y/N] approached, conversation faltered like a blaster misfire.

She offered a delicate curtsy—mischief in her eyes. “Commander, I trust the briefing notes were…illuminating?”

“They were extensive,” Wolffe said evenly. “Yet somehow omitted your talent for disappearing.”

“Ah, but every good security test includes an unscheduled drill.” She stepped closer, voice just for him: “You passed—eventually.”

The faintest flush darkened Wolffe’s neck. “Next time give me a comm frequency, not a cliff to chase.”

[Y/N] arched a brow. “And deny you the exercise?” Her fingers brushed the edge of his pauldron as she glided past. “Meet me on the terrace at midnight—strictly business, of course.”

Wolffe exhaled—half growl, half laugh—as Cody elbowed him, grinning. “Careful, vod. That one dances with both halves of the Force.”

Strings struck up Karthuna’s dawn‑waltz. Jedi mingled with diplomats while clone troopers ringed the hall’s perimeter. Suspicion, politics, and bright music braided in the air—yet for a heartbeat, harmony held.

In the high galleries, R4 scanned faces, feeding the princess data on a Separatist envoy concealed among trade delegates—tonight’s real threat.

Midnight loomed, and outside the terrace doors, mountain winds whispered of balance, blades, and a wolf answering a princess’s call.

⸻

Princess [Y/N] leaned against the balustrade, moon‑silver kissing the scars on her shoulders. Commander Wolffe stood close, arms folded—attempt at stoic ruined by her playful tug on the strap of his pauldron.

“Still on duty, Commander?” she teased.

“Always.”

“So devoted,” she murmured, fingers ghosting along the seam where synth‑skin met armor. “Makes a woman wonder how else that focus might—”

A scarlet bolt sizzled through the ballroom windows. Shouts. Glass rained like crystal hail.

Inside, Governor Rhun lay sprawled behind an overturned buffet, cloak smoking at the shoulder. Clone guards returned fire toward upper galleries; a masked shooter vaulted onto a chandelier cable and vanished in a flash‑grenade’s glare.

Skywalker, Ahsoka, Windu ignited sabers; Cody’s troopers fanned out. Wolffe ushered [Y/N] through the shattered doors into the throne corridor, senators scrambling behind.

⸻

Heavy doors slammed. Present: King Talren, Chancellor Palpatine, Masters Yoda, Windu, Kenobi, Commanders Cody, Wolffe, Ponds, Bacara, Senator Padmé, and a handful of shaken delegates. Rhun, arm bacta‑wrapped, was dragged in by medics.

Tension whipped like live wire.

[Y/N] broke the silence, voice flat: “Pity the shooter missed.”

Gasps; Wolffe’s helmet snapped toward her.

Rhun snarled. “Should’ve been you that got shot!”

She advanced, eyes blazing. “I opposed reopening our borders. Tonight proves me right. We invited every power broker in the war to one valley—painted a target the size of a moon.”

King Talren’s tone cut ice. “Peace requires risk.”

“Blind risk courts massacre,” she shot back. “Insurgents in our mountains, Separatist agents in our ballroom—now assassins under our roof.”

Palpatine interjected silkily, “Surely, Princess, the Republic can strengthen your security.”

“More soldiers won’t erase the bull’s‑eye you represent, Chancellor.”

Mace Windu’s gaze narrowed. “You suggest isolation while the galaxy burns?”

“I suggest survival,” she answered.

Arguments flared—senators citing diplomacy, clones citing protocol. Wolffe stepped between factions, voice drill‑sergeant sharp: “Focus. Assassin is still loose. Mandates later, lockdown now.”

Plo Coon, calm amid storm, nodded approval.

King Talren exhaled. “Commander Wolffe, you have joint authority with my Shadow Guard. Hunt the shooter.”

Wolffe met [Y/N]’s gaze—heat of earlier flirtation replaced by razor respect. “Princess—coming?”

She clicked twin sabers to her belt. “Lead the way, Commander.”

Rhun blanched; Padmé exchanged a knowing look with Kenobi—battle partners born.

The moment the throne‑room doors slammed behind them, [Y/N] was already moving—midnight gown gathered in one fist, the other dropping her double sabers into waiting palms.

Wolffe fell in at her shoulder, DC‑17 raised. The marble corridor echoed with their synchronized footfalls.

“Shadow Guard breach tunnel’s this way,” she hissed, sweeping aside a wall‑tapestry to reveal a spiral stair cut straight into obsidian.

He nodded once. “After you, Princess.”

The air grew cooler, alive with a faint crystalline hum. Iridescent kyber veins glowed within the stone, casting violet and jade shadows across their path.

Wolffe switched his helmet lamp to low‑band; [Y/N] didn’t bother—her people’s Force‑attuned sight caught every shimmer.

A blaster scorch on the stair railing.

“Fresh,” she murmured.

“Means we’re close,” Wolffe replied, pulse settling into the calm that preceded battle.

The stair disgorged them into a vast cavern—kyber pillars rising like frozen lightning. At the far end, the assassin’s silhouette leapt between crystal spires, cloak tattered by security bolts.

Wolffe’s comm clicked twice—Boost and Sinker sealing exits above.

“Corner him,” Wolffe ordered.

“Alive,” [Y/N] added. “I want intel before he bleeds out.”

They split wordlessly: Wolffe low along a mineral ridge, [Y/N] sprinting the high ledge, gown whipping behind like a war‑banner.

The assassin spun, twin WESTARs barking scarlet. Wolffe dove, bolts sparking off crystal as [Y/N] sprang from above, sabers igniting.

A vibro‑dagger flicked from the assassin’s wrist—met by Wolffe’s gauntlet, beskad plating deflecting the strike. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the assailant’s ribs.

“Yield,” the commander growled.

A hissed curse the killer smashed a detonator against the pillar. Kyber screamed as fractures spider‑webbed, light flaring.

[Y/N] threw Wolffe back with a Force‑shove and thrust both sabers into the crystal, channeling energy away in a surge of blinding radiance. The explosion muted to a concussive thump; shards rained harmlessly.

When vision cleared, the assassin lay dazed, binders already clamping on under Wolffe’s practiced hands.

“Who hired you?” the princess demanded.

The prisoner spat blood, defiant. “Karthuna’s own who crave true freedom—and the Confederacy rewards such courage.”

Wolffe’s visor tipped toward [Y/N]. Confirmation.

���

Governor Rhun’s voice boomed across the ballroom remnant—holocams hovering:

“This outrage proves openness invites anarchy! I petition immediate curfew, martial oversight by local forces, and expulsion of unnecessary off‑world elements!”

Several senators, rattled, murmured agreement. Separatist sympathizers whispered through the crowd, feeding fear.

Master Windu folded his arms. “Governor, the assassin wielded Separatist tech. Cooperation with the Republic, not isolation, thwarts such threats.”

Rhun’s smile was razor‑thin. “Yet my princess would see me dead; perhaps the Council should examine internal loyalties first.”

King Talren’s reply was cut short by the distant rumble of kyber—catacomb fight vibrations reaching high halls. Panic rippled anew.

Wolffe and [Y/N] emerged, armor and gown dusted in crystal powder, prisoner in tow. Gasps rippled through assembled officials.

“Governor Rhun,” [Y/N] announced, voice carrying. “Your assassin failed. And he’s confessed to Separatist backing—backing that feeds on fear you happily sow.”

Rhun’s complexion drained.

Palpatine stepped forward, tone silken. “A grave accusation, Princess. Proof?”

Wolffe activated the assassin’s cracked vambrace: a holo‑sigil of the Techno Union flickered. That, plus recorded confession from his helmet‑cam, filled the air in chilling blue.

Yoda’s ears drooped, sad but certain. “Darkness invited not by borders, but hearts seeking power, yes.”

Arguments flared, but now the tide shifted: senators demanding inquiry into Rhun’s dealings, Jedi reinforcing joint patrols, clones and Sun‑Guard sharing data rather than territory. The assassin was led away.

In the aftershock, [Y/N] turned to Wolffe, adrenaline still bright in her eyes.

“You kept up,” she said softly.

“You lit up half a mountain,” he retorted, relief threading the words.

A grin tugged her lips. “Balance, Commander—little light, little dark.”

His chuckle surprised them both. “Next time, maybe just a dance.”

She offered her arm—scarred, unhidden. He took it, escorting her back into the fractured ballroom where a new balance—uneasy, hard‑won—waited to be forged.

Previous Part

[hobiebrownismygod]

hey how about a margo study (spiderbyte). she has so little screentime and as far as i know no real comic book lore

Researching Characters so you don't have to Part 6: Who is Margo Kess/Spider-byte?

Origins:

Margo Kess lives in a time where everyone spends most of their time in VR. If you've ever seen Ready Player 1, its a really similar concept. Everyone has their own virtual avatar and they all exist in a place called Cyberspace.

She hooks herself up to this network through a computer in her school's computer lab, and connects to her avatar, Spider-byte, that way. She thinks of herself as a kind of community service member, and spends her time tracking down cyber-criminals and helps people.

Powers:

She's not your average avatar. Her intellectual prowess and great knowledge of computers helped her hack the network to create these powers for herself. She can teleport through Cyberspace and uses her arms can stretch like we saw in the spiderverse movie.

She programmed her skills and armor to boost her speed and strength all by herself. Her cybernetic armor provides protection and keeps her identity a secret.

In the comics, Ghost Spider eventually recruits her to fight the Inheritors, but thats not really a part of the Margo Kess character we saw in the spiderverse movie so I'm not gonna get into it.

But other than that, there's really no other information about her origins or her powers. She doesn't have her own comic series, but hopefully she gets one eventually!

[noneatnonedotcom]

obligitory batman like character. the gentleman badass.

this character doesn't have physical superpowers instead he's mastered two distinct mental techniques that better allow him to learn. mainly in an attempt to impress a girl. now the only question is just how far will he be able to push himself?

build under the cut

Man of the New World: (200cp)

"As the world moves on from hitting each other with crude sticks and fists, power begins to change hands.

The strongest man in the room goes from an undoubted leader to mere muscle for the true power, the man with all the knowledge.

A combination of natural prodigy and years of effort gave you a position among Britain’s most vaunted minds. While your most famous talents are focused in a single academic discipline, such as Moriarty and his world-renowned skill with mathematics or an unsurpassed brilliance with biology, you are broadly skilled with many other fields.

From several respected academic paths to the different styles of the arts and even a deep understanding of philosophy, you match the learning in each of what most men try a decade or more to come close to.

Though a touch barbaric, you even indulged in learning a martial style of the empire, having enough experience in boxing or baritsu to knock back-alley heads together without trouble.

It’s made possible with a particular mental technique that allows you to absorb and retain information easily, the creation of a continually expanding ‘memory palace’ style territory within your mind.

Information is easily memorised and efficiently stored, granting the ability to rapidly make connections between even seemingly disparate pieces of data that you have gathered. Knowledge of disciplines you once studied thirty years ago remains as fresh as the new fad you spent an afternoon exploring."

Thought Acceleration: (200)

"Even a human brain operating at peak capacity has its limits - it is, after all, what amounts to biological hardware with set limitations.But what if those limitations could be surpassed?

You are able to accelerate your thought processes to twice their normal speed, letting you quickly multitask and react faster than body and nervous system would normally allow, running calculations and strategies in a blink rather than a minute.

In time, you could even accelerate this to three, or four or more times in speed. However, much like overclocking a computer, this is a stressful technique that is exhausting and, if overused, can burn your brain out like an overheated engine. Practice and careful moderation may let you overcome this, but for now, be cautious in how you use this."

In for a Penny, in for a Pound of Flesh: (200) "Training? Guns? Numbers?

All is for naut against true battle experience.

You have no issue taking on entire armed groups on your lonesome.

The more you kill, the larger groups you can take on, and the stronger individuals you can challenge. With a few wars under your belt, taking on a small army or a stone-skinned monster is child’s play."

Stealth Efficiency: (100)

"The strong rules the weak, so how can the weak defeat the strong? Like how two brilliant NEETs from another universe always say, the weak’s weapons against the strong are their intelligence and strategy, not their power.

Apparently, you learned a different lesson from this ideology: no one, regardless of their power, can prepare themselves from an attack they don’t know is coming, including those stronger than you. Your attacks are twice as effective and powerful when used against an unadvised opponent, but this power boost loses its effect once they perceive your presence.

This is perfect for a first surprise attack to end a fight before it starts, letting even a weaker servant defeat a stronger master."

Stealth expert: (200) "You’re a Master of stealth. You could infiltrate highly armed military bases and no one would ever even know you were there."

Stuntmaster: (100)

"The absolute best part of being a skilled warrior as a Solar Exalt? It’s how your every movement follows with both grace and grandeur, how you become a stuntmaster that makes combat look almost like dancing.

Your attacks become eye-catching and graceful, and while no more effective, your skills in battle will look visually impressive in addition to your already-existing effectiveness. This can also be applied to any sort of skill, power or trade you put effort and enthusiasm into, letting you perform all of your abilities while looking absolutely fantastic doing so."

Stunt Master: (free)

"You are a master of stunting. Any time you try to do something amazing the world will conspire to make your attempted stunt just that little bit more dramatic and incredible. Maybe there just happens to be a rope to let you swing across the ballroom dramatically as you make off with the nobles treasure, or maybe there's just the right amount of handholds and footholds on two opposing walls, at just the right distance from each other, that would allow you to dramatically wall jump your way up.

So long as you strive to do things in an amazing and/or over the top fashion you will be slightly rewarded for doing so, Fate conspiring to make you that little bit better at whatever you're doing because apparently Fate is really fond of over-the-top action sequences. You can still fail when you're doing over the top stuff though, so don't get too out of hand, this just represents a slight-to-moderate increase when you're purposely trying to be amazing. "

Beautiful: (free) "You are very beautiful, guaranteed to be beautiful enough make the majority of the opposite sex think you are hot. This won’t shift your appearance to something you find ugly. "

so the basic idea behind this character is a sherlock holms/ batman like character who's main abilities are mental. his mind palace plus thought acceleration puts him well above street level and his skill with baritsu means he's not a slouch in combat anyways. but his skills in stealth and using surprise to take down his enemies really pushes him to the level of someone like batman, plus like batman he's got plot armor in the form of his stunt master abilities. Everything he does is over the top and stunning to behold. and as he keeps fighting he keeps getting better his skills somehow never hitting a peak letting him fight even superhumans.

his one downside is that he starts off as a kid trying to impress a girl and he never really out grows that. no matter how many years and adventures he has under his belt this character will always find himself in trouble by chasing a pretty face.

He'll also always start young, having to grow into his own body to truly be the force on the battlefield he's destined to be. but because of his more esoteric mental abilities, he's far more than just a brute able to plan and strategize around enemies and react to or predict things, moving faster than human thought. a genius.

This character doesn't need to be the hero. if you think they'd do better as a phantom thief or big bad evil guy, or even just a merc doing work for the highest bidder or prettiest face he'll fit into and thrive in any situation.

@heliosthegriffin i'm picturing this as an alternative Shadow Knight, but this jaune learnt mental abilities rather than trying to out fight the Grimm learned how to go all in on the advantages he has. Still having neo as his assistant and having a less heroic and more mercurial bent to him, he's just trying to keep his girl entertained after all.

@weatherman667 @howlingday how would you two use a character like this?

i like the idea of a guy who gets mental powers but thinks he's stuck being a street level hero for the rest of his life, un aware that he's constantly taking on threats that the heavy hitters just can't handle because they're too big to find the root cause of the villainry of the city.

[misfitwashere]

Why I remain hopeful about America

Even as darkness falls 

ROBERT REICH

JAN 20

Friends,

So many people I know — including, I suspect, many of you — are despairing over Trump’s second regime, which starts today.

I share your fears about what’s to come. 

Yet I remain hopeful about the future of America. Here’s why.

Trump hoodwinked average working Americans into believing he’s on their side and convinced enough voters that Kamala Harris and Democrats were on the side of cultural elites (the “deep state,” “woke”ism, “coastal elites,” and so on). 

But Trump’s hoax will not work for long, given the oligarchy’s conspicuous takeover of America under Trump II. 

Even before Trump’s regime begins, it’s already exposing a reality that has been hidden from most Americans for decades: the oligarchy’s obscene wealth and its use of that wealth to gain power over America. 

Seated prominently where Trump is giving his inaugural address today will be the three richest people in America — Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg — each of whom owns powerful media that have either boosted Trump’s lies or refrained from telling the truth about him. 

Musk sank a quarter of a billion dollars into getting Trump elected, in return for which Trump has authorized him, along with billionaire Vivek Ramaswamy, to target for elimination programs Americans depend on — thereby making way for another giant tax cut for the wealthy.

The oligarchy’s conflicts of interest will be just as conspicuous. 

Musk’s SpaceX is a major federal contractor through its rocket launches and its internet service, Starlink. Bezos’s Amazon is a major federal contractor through its cloud computing business. Zuckerberg is pouring billions into artificial intelligence, as is Musk, in hopes of huge federal contracts.

Ramaswamy, whose biotech company is valued at nearly $600 million, wants the Food and Drug Administration to speed up drug approvals. His investment firm has an oil and gas fund. His new Bitcoin business would benefit if the federal government kept its hands off crypto. 

Trump himself has already begun to cash in on his second presidency even more blatantly than he did the first time. He just began selling a cryptocurrency token featuring an image of himself — even though cryptocurrency is regulated by the Securities and Exchange Commission, to which Trump has already said he’ll name a crypto advocate as chair. 

Not to mention the billionaires Trump is putting in charge of key departments to decide on taxes and expenditures, tariffs and trade, even what young Americans learn — all of whom have brazen conflicts of interest. 

They’ll all be on display today with Trump. Then, many will take their private jets to Davos, Switzerland, for the annual confab of the world’s most powerful CEOs and billionaires. 

Not since the Gilded Age of the late 19th century has such vast wealth turned itself into such conspicuous displays of political power. Unapologetically, unashamedly, defiantly.

This flagrancy makes me hopeful. Why? Because Americans don’t abide aristocracy. We were founded in revolt against unaccountable power and wealth. We will not tolerate this barefaced takeover.

The backlash will be stunning.

I cannot tell you precisely how or when it will occur, but it will start in our communities when we protect the most vulnerable from the cruelties of the Trump regime, ensure that hardworking families aren’t torn apart, protect transgender and LGBTQ+ people, and help guard the safety of Trump’s political enemies.

We will see the backlash in the 2026 midterms and the 2028 presidential election, when Americans elect true leaders who care about working people and the common good.

And just as we did at the end of the first Gilded Age of the late 19th century when the oligarchy revealed its hubris and grandiosity, Americans will demand fundamental reforms: getting big money out of politics, taxing huge wealth, busting up or regulating giant corporations, making huge social media platforms accountable to the public rather than to a handful of multibillionaires.

Friends, we could not remain on the path we were on. The sludge had been thickening even under Democratic administrations. Systematic flaws have remained unaddressed. Inequalities have continued to widen. Corruption and bribery have worsened.

It’s tragic that America had to come to this point. A few years of another Trump regime, even worse than the first, will be hard on many people. 

But as the oligarchy is conspicuously exposed, Americans will see as clearly as we did at the end of the first Gilded Age that we have no option but to take back power.

Only then can we continue the essential work of America: the pursuit of equality and prosperity for the many, not the few. The preservation and strengthening of a government of, by, and for the people.

[fishnapple]

Happy Holiday! I would love to read interesting observations and thoughts you have for aspect Mercury trine Mars natal. Thank you ♡♡♡

Happy Holiday! It's interesting that I was having a conversation about fast thinkers when I received this ask.👀

Mercury trine Mars

Whatever Mars touches will add vigor and drive to that placement. And whatever Mercury touches will add a level of speed, skillfulness and movement. This placement makes me think of a next-gen computer chip, fast, powerful processor, capable of heavy duty multitasking. I also see Mercury and Mars as two mischievous friends who are always on the go, always "on".

Mental activities receive boost of power and Physical activities receive refinement.

Use physical activities to channel mental restlessness and vice versa.

Fast thinker. Fast talker. Fast reader. Fast runner. Fast driver.

Strategic in their action, yet impulsive in their thinking.

Decisive.

Impatient.

Straightforward and blunt.

Mental pursuits are a great focus and passion.

Curiosity is their middle name.

Can easily feel mental burnout due to multitasking, migraine, sore muscle.

Physical dexterity.

Like activities and sports that require speed, decisive actions, coordination between many parts of the body, a burst of energy rather than pacing out for long haul, like dancing, tennis, archery, jumping, fencing etc.

Interested in various crafts.

Can be super focused on something, but not for too long.

Turned on by intelligence and humour.

Argumentative, like to debate, like to tease. Will talk your ears off.

Potty mouth, their swear words can be pretty creative, dirty jokes are rampant.

Staccato words, curt, not a smooth flow but more like a boom.

Often have a somewhat shrill, "hard", loud voice.

Witty and mischievous.

Young, agile, sporty looking.

Compact physique.

Have prominent hands that stand out. Have a hand fetish. Like wearing hand accessories. Gesture a lot with their hands.

Their handwriting can be hard to read.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Staying Motivated During Camp NaNoWriMo: A Writer's Guide to Success (As I Continue to Fail)

As a writer, you've likely heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), the annual November challenge where participants aim to write a 50,000-word novel in just 30 days. But did you know that there's a more flexible version of this writing marathon called Camp NaNoWriMo? Held in April and July each year, Camp NaNoWriMo allows writers to set their own word count goals and work on any writing project they choose.

(Here's proof of me failing miserably to my writing goal 😭)

While Camp NaNoWriMo offers more freedom than its November counterpart, it can still be challenging to stay motivated throughout the month-long writing journey. As someone who's participated in multiple Camp NaNoWriMo sessions, I understand the ups and downs that come with this intensive writing experience. In this post, I'll share some tried-and-true strategies to help you stay motivated and reach your writing goals during Camp NaNoWriMo.

Set Realistic and Personalized Goals

One of the beauties of Camp NaNoWriMo is that you get to set your own goals. While this flexibility is fantastic, it's crucial to set realistic targets that challenge you without setting you up for failure. Consider your schedule, writing speed, and project type when determining your word count goal.

For instance, if you're working on a poetry collection, aiming for 50,000 words might not make sense. Instead, you could set a goal of writing 30 poems or spending 30 hours on your project. Remember, the goal is to make progress, not to burn yourself out.

Pro Tip: Break your monthly goal into daily or weekly targets. This makes the overall goal feel less daunting and gives you regular milestones to celebrate.

Create a Writing Schedule

Once you've set your goal, it's time to create a writing schedule that works for you. Consistency is key when it comes to making progress on your project. Try to allocate specific times each day for writing, even if it's just 30 minutes.

Consider your natural rhythms and responsibilities when crafting your schedule. Are you a morning person who can squeeze in an hour of writing before work? Or do you find your creativity peaks late at night after the kids are in bed? Whatever your situation, find pockets of time that you can dedicate to your writing.

Remember, it's okay if you can't write every single day. Life happens, and flexibility is important. The key is to have a general structure that you can fall back on.

Prepare Your Writing Space

Your environment can have a significant impact on your motivation and productivity. Before Camp NaNoWriMo begins, take some time to set up a comfortable and inspiring writing space. This could be a dedicated home office, a cozy corner of your living room, or even a favorite spot at your local coffee shop.

Ensure your writing area is clutter-free and equipped with everything you might need: your computer or notebook, reference materials, snacks, and a beverage of choice. Some writers find that having inspiring objects around them, like favorite books or meaningful trinkets, helps fuel their creativity.

Join a Writing Community

One of the most powerful aspects of Camp NaNoWriMo is the sense of community it fosters. Take advantage of this by joining a "cabin" - a small group of writers who can offer support, encouragement, and accountability throughout the month.

You can either join a random cabin or create one with friends. Engage with your cabin mates regularly, share your progress, and celebrate each other's successes. The camaraderie and shared experience can be incredibly motivating when the writing gets tough.

Beyond your cabin, participate in the wider Camp NaNoWriMo community through forums, social media, and local events (virtual or in-person). Surrounding yourself with other writers who are facing similar challenges can provide a much-needed boost of motivation.

Use Writing Prompts and Exercises

There will inevitably be days when the words just don't seem to flow. Instead of getting discouraged, have a arsenal of writing prompts and exercises ready to kickstart your creativity.

These can be simple character development exercises, dialogue prompts, or even free-writing sessions. The goal is to get your creative juices flowing and overcome any mental blocks you might be experiencing.

Pro Tip: Create a document or notebook filled with prompts and exercises before Camp NaNoWriMo begins. This way, you'll always have something to fall back on during tough writing days.

Reward Yourself for Milestones

Positive reinforcement can be a powerful motivator. Set up a system of rewards for reaching various milestones throughout the month. These can be small daily rewards, like a favorite snack after reaching your word count, or larger weekly rewards, such as a movie night or a long bath.

Don't forget to celebrate the big achievements too. Plan something special for when you reach your final Camp NaNoWriMo goal, whether it's buying a new book, treating yourself to a nice dinner, or simply taking a day off to relax and recharge.

Embrace the "Sprint" Mentality

Writing sprints - short, focused bursts of writing - can be incredibly effective during Camp NaNoWriMo. Not only do they help you make progress quickly, but they can also inject a sense of fun and urgency into your writing sessions.

Try setting a timer for 15-30 minutes and challenging yourself to write as much as possible during that time. Don't worry about editing or perfection; the goal is simply to get words on the page. You might be surprised at how much you can accomplish in these short, intense writing sessions.

Many writers find that alternating between sprints and short breaks helps maintain focus and prevents burnout. Experiment with different sprint lengths and break times to find what works best for you.

Keep a Progress Journal

Tracking your progress can be a great source of motivation. Consider keeping a journal where you record your daily word count, time spent writing, and any notable achievements or breakthroughs.

This journal can serve multiple purposes. First, it provides a visual representation of your progress, which can be encouraging on tough days. Second, it allows you to reflect on your writing process and identify patterns or areas for improvement. Lastly, it serves as a record of your Camp NaNoWriMo journey that you can look back on with pride.

Practice Self-Care

While Camp NaNoWriMo is an exciting challenge, it's important not to sacrifice your physical and mental well-being in pursuit of your writing goals. Remember to take care of yourself throughout the month.

This includes getting enough sleep, eating well, staying hydrated, and taking regular breaks to stretch and move your body. Don't forget to make time for other activities you enjoy, whether it's reading, spending time with loved ones, or pursuing other hobbies.

Taking care of yourself will not only help prevent burnout but will also keep your mind fresh and creative, ultimately benefiting your writing.

Embrace Imperfection

One of the biggest obstacles to motivation during Camp NaNoWriMo can be the pressure to write something "good." Remember, the goal of this challenge is to make progress on your project, not to produce a perfect, publication-ready manuscript.

Give yourself permission to write imperfectly. First drafts are meant to be messy, and that's okay. Focus on getting your ideas down on paper (or screen) and worry about refining them later. Some writers find it helpful to turn off their inner editor completely during the first draft, while others prefer to do light editing as they go. Find what works for you, but don't let the pursuit of perfection hinder your progress.

Have a Plan for When Motivation Dips

Even with all these strategies in place, there may be times when your motivation wanes. It's normal and happens to every writer at some point. The key is to have a plan for these moments.

This could involve reaching out to your cabin mates for encouragement, revisiting your favorite writing craft book for inspiration, or simply taking a short break to recharge. Sometimes, switching up your routine or writing environment can provide a fresh perspective and renewed motivation.

Remember why you started this journey in the first place. Reconnect with your passion for your story or project. Visualize how you'll feel when you reach your goal at the end of the month.

Reflect and Celebrate

As Camp NaNoWriMo draws to a close, take time to reflect on your journey. Regardless of whether you met your initial goal, you've likely made significant progress on your project and learned valuable lessons about your writing process.

Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may seem. Every word written is a step closer to completing your project. Be proud of the effort you've put in and the progress you've made.

Happy Writing! - Rin T.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[stevebattle]

T4 AKA "Thezeus 4" (1982) by Alan Dibley, Cheddar, UK. The first photo above shows Alan Dibley demonstrating his ZX81 based Thezeus on Johnny Ball's 'Think of a number' programme in 1983. The previous year, the University of Tampere, Finland, hosted the 1982 Euromouse finals, and snatched victory from Thezeus 4, with Minitaurus. "Thezeus 4 showed the contest to be no foregone conclusion with a time of 46s, and the promise of a faster strategy and boosted motor volts for the final the following day. Two of Alan Dibley's four Thezeii suffered gravely when the box was stacked upside down in the cargo hold of the plane, and Son of Thezeus may never run again. … All traces of unconcern (sic) had disappeared when Dibley ran Thezeus 4. Supercharged to the limit, it snapped around corners with no break in speed but five times rushed headlong into trouble. At last it made a clean run of 45 seconds." – Mighty mice battle in Europe, by John Billingsley, Practical Computing, December 1982.

T4 returned to claim victory in the 1983 British Euromouse finals at Earls Court. "Alan Dibley’s T4 ... buzzes about the maze like an angry bluebottle. Unless completely cornered it keeps going no matter what. Then with an impatient shrug it performs a three-point turn and bustles on its way. It entered its first contest last year in Finland, where it missed the European Championship by a mere two seconds. ... T4 was clearly not up to its best, but after several restarts reached the centre in 1 minute 2 seconds. On a later run it proved that the maze really was not so difficult and could be solved in 47 seconds. ... Alan Dibley’s T4 was awarded the £1,000 first prize while Nick Smith and Stirling Mouse won the third prize of £25-worth of books from John Wiley Ltd. Alan Dibley has generously undertaken to spend his £1,000 on a combined trip for both Dibley and Woodfield families to travel to the Euromicro Conference in Spain so that Britain can be represented in force at the European Final." – Maze Mastery, Practical Computing, September 1983.

[99problemsandallofthemarefandoms]

Puppyshipping ramblings

I like to imagine that Kaiba's need to slap his name on everything would translate to a relationship. Not outwardly possessive (cause like who could he lose to when he is rich, hot and a genius) but instead unconsciously protective.

So he would just end up dressing Joey in Kaiba corp t-shirts or he would buy "himself" hoodies and Joey would appropriate them. I love when one person is a clothes thief. I just imagine Joey grabbing something from a drawer and throwing it on not caring as long as it fits. Kaiba can do nothing to stop him nor would he want to. (He will not admit how cute Joey looks)

Matching accessories when they go out and dress fancy cause Joey insists on going with Kaiba to some of his fancy business parties (a. just cause he is spoiled for attention b. the food is really good) which surprisingly the snooty business people find Joey amusing. Partially cause he has bard level charisma and he cleans up well while trying his best so Kaiba will bring him to more.

Instead of a necklace I think it would be cute if he got Joey a keychain that matched his and Mokuba's. He never says anything about the significance but Joey thinks its so cute and sweet then spends the rest of the week showing it off.

I love possessiveness but honestly Kaiba is too confident for that. Joey could be but I think his whole emotional development from the early chapters would have him put a big deal of trust in Kaiba to not worry about the masses throwing themselves at Kaiba. Plus with Kaiba's attitude to people he is not interested in is a big confidence boost when he can easily get the oh so important business man's attention without having to schedule a meeting. (Ok Joey can just walk in but since he had been granted VIP privileges at KC after an incident with some rookie guards he tends to schedule ahead just cause he is a good BF.)

Secretary has Joey on speed dial for Kaiba's bad days when he gets in the mood to start firing people. Kaiba wouldn't really cause that's a loss in man power and it takes too much time to vet employees but those bad days make the other workers stressed.

(I still can not find the damned fic that put this idea in my head) Kaiba starts collecting Red-eyes merch to match the Blue-eyes merch. Its starting to bug him not all of the statuettes have a matching counter part. (Joey finds this super fucking sweet. Since there is not enough Red-eyes merch he arranged the few Kaiba did find to have at lest 3 Blue-eyes around each one. Joey finds it hilarious that Red-eyes has a haram. Kaiba refuses to comment the new arrangement.)

I stan Joey being able to cook. Nothing too fancy but its good. I imagine its from having to take care of himself and working odd jobs some of which landed him in a kitchen or two. Also from these jobs he has a random amalgamation of knowledge. Nothing like any fancy computer stuff but he knows how to take care of a garden, could build you porch and the like.