#but its more complicated than this one so i just wanted to dip my toes on a easier illustration first

[somdachuvadenoite]

Been thinking bout @myaami s fic ever since i finished it. This is a illustration I did for chapter 2. I do want to make one for each chapter and it was supposed to be black and white butttttt it’s fine, maybe the others I’ll keep b&w.

Go read it!!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816376/chapters/52062352

Myaami, if you’re reading this just know that your writting is so fucking goooood, can’t wait for your next longfic project ❤️‍🔥

[markrosewater]

"I talk a lot about how different players enjoy different aspects of the game. What I talk far less about is different players struggle with different aspects. Some can’t handle excessive processing; some have issues with sequencing; some don’t understand the nuances of the rules; some aren’t good with memory..." Hi Mark, I wanted to say I sincerely appreciate the thoughtful, high effort and detailed response to my question and feedback. It really means a lot and sometimes I can't believe I'm talking to the head designer of my favorite game of all time about the specific questions and issues I have with the game. You don't have to do this and it's so amazing that you do, so thank you. I think you make an interesting and probably valid point about my proclivity to value memorizing aspects of the game and mechanics and I understand other people don't have that problem or don't care about that as much. But I think overall, in summary my larger point is for more than 25 years, typically the rule of thumb when it came to Magic the Gathering cards was the adage “Reading the card explains the card” and in just the past few years, that is no longer the case because of the need to have extremely wordy mechanics that need helper/reminder cards to function. People (myself included) often can't remember how these mechanics function, but because they are so complicated, they are constantly referring to the double sided helper token in addition the the card with oracle text and this can slow down game play and feel awkward at times. I want the Magic the Gathering cards to also be the game pieces. With every new set you continue to prove this is possible in the form of brand new mechanics but Magic still insists on making more and more of these mechanics that deviate from that adage. But I acknowledge and respect that everyone doesn't agree with me on that. Part of it is about memory and mental bandwidth, but a larger part of it is about tracking and the logistics of needing game pieces that aren't Magic cards in order to play Magic. This was also a big part of my aversion to cards that require stickers, 12 sided dice, keyword counters, helper tokens, etc. I do look forward to someday seeing some more outside of the game helper token style mechanics that are more simple like Ascend or Monarch, so I will be crossing my fingers for those. Anyways, thanks again for all you do for the community and keep up the great work!

Thank you for the dialogue.

One of the interesting things about doing this job so long is that I get some perspective on larger shifts of the game.

The conversation you and I are having matches a conversation I had with another player fifteen or so years ago. Magic was starting to dip its toe much more into counters and tokens.

The player felt like the core of Magic was the cards, and that a reliance on counters and tokens was pulling away from the essence of what they thought was the core of Magic.

Cut back another fifteen or so years before that. I had just joined Wizards and I was talking to a player at a convention. They were concerned that we’d been going up in named keywords. They felt the core of the game was based on the individual cards and that leaning on named mechanics was adding an element that distracted from the pure essence of the game.

Magic, by its nature, constantly adapts. The designers are always looking for new venues to explore, but there are always players who appreciate the game for what it has been.

That’s the balance that we’re always trying to strike. How do we keep exploring and innovating while at the same time keep true to what the game means to people? It’s challenging as those two forces can pull in very different directions.

I do hear what you’re saying, and we’re always on the look for elegance and brevity where we can find it. Sometimes though that journey requires us to explore a bit into the weeds to learn things that with time and experience we can streamline.

Again, thanks for the dialogue. I enjoy having chats like this with players.

[chiquititaosita]

Hi!!

I just loved your writing! I rlly wish(as a latina too) that you could write the monter trio with a y/n that is teaching them to dance piseiro (brazilian dance)

I think it would be pretty cool actually 😫💞

bear note 🤩🤩 pillali! (Hello in nahuatl) Tlazohcamati (thank you so much) thank you so much for your request this made my day. I really love to give diversity to latine community. Because as a latine and an indigenous (mexica and huestaco descent) i want to see how y/n will be come into life. But I thought you’d never ask my love :> it may take me a bit because ill be researching when it comes to culture appreciation and not appropriation.

Context: much like the quebradora (the break in español) its almost similar to pisero. It kinda contains the same movements but lots of hips moving on both dance partners. Sometimes there are lifts and spins and turns enjoy!!!

Cw: slight nsfw (suggestive).

Monster trio learning to do Piseiro (dance) with Brazilian (latina) s/o (latine reader)

post type: headcannon

pairing: luffy x reader, zoro x reader, sanji x reader

reader: Latina reader

Luffy

reference video

-“ no wait wait! You gotta do this.” you show him the foot work again and corrected him once more

-instantly would drop you if he saw a rack of meat. then immediately apologize after.

-no ifs or buts. It’s canon

- “HYAHHAAHA!!”

- “and spinnnnn!!!” He’s gonna want to be spun around too. Which he does.

- you’ll be falling on your butt 💀

- ngl luffy dances better in the dirt than on tile floors.

- again he uses his hips to try and get in sync with you. But it doesn’t add up sometimes

-“ how are you doing this? Lu?”

-“easy by using my gomu gomu hip moves!” It’s giving very much washing machine moves

-“and dip you to the floorr!!!” It’s so cute to watch him show you what he learned from you! Especially IF YALL DANCED AT CARNIVAL OMGGGGGGG 🤩🤩🤩🤩

-epic show stoppers

-he’ll definitely step on your toes unintentionally. HE DONT EVEN KNOW HOW STRONG HIS GRIPPERS ARE!

-unfortunately dry humping happens to you. If You’ll look miserable nami and robin will try to rescue you :)

-You’ll both most likely dance barefoot because it helps luffy get stimulated and used to it. (If does wear shoes, from what i see he DONT)

- “yeah!- we did this move where I pick up y/n and let her fly a bit! And I kinda grab her how she grabs my hair when I eat he-“ it was the only you could explain it to him.

-“ LUFFY! CALA A BOCA!!” Nami and sanji will smack him for you.

-“SHISHISHI you love me and you know it y/n channn!!!”

Zoro

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRCV4cjo/ < reference

-“absolutely not!!!”

-“I’m not doing it.”

-“THIS!! IS!! BULLSHIT!! !”

- CHINGOW GÜEY!

-So getting zoro to do piseiro , he had to have at least 5 drinks worth of sake to get it in his system.

- but teaching him was actually not too bad

-“Why are you doing it this way?”

-“isn’t it easier this way, it just makes this so complicated!!!!”

-since he can only see with one eye it’s a little bit harder for him (if it was pre time skip, that’d be a major difference) it’s just that he doesn’t want you to get hurt

-poor moss heads hips are too stiff

-“ow OW! zoro! That’s my foot.” You huff in frustration.

-“what I’m sorry!-.”

- he’s going try and carry you at least once. It won’t go well at least in your eyes.

-but it goes well in his eyes.

-“and dip? And dip.”He’ll just mutter in the back of his mind. Thinking in the back of his mind.

-“I’m surprised you’re not even complaining.” You whisper into his ear as he blushed

-“ I can’t let that bastard cook take my woman on the dance floor now can I?”

- Shaking your hips damn girl, he attempts to cover your ass if you’re ever like about to shake whatcha mama gave ya, he’s like “NOPE!!!! NOPE! THATS MINE!!”

-he’s a softie for sure when it comes to the love of his life.

- if y’all do the spins, y’all are for sure gonna get lost, but luckily you find y’all’s way back (y’all wouldn’t even be that far away)

Sanji

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRbTJkrb/ <reference

-an absolute menace

- seriously, he’s gonna be dead the minute you start shaking your ass

-ussopp and chopper almost had to resuscitate him and do chest compressions.

-THE AMOUNT OF NOSE BLEEEDS THIS MAN GOES THROUGH

-His hips don’t lie and that’s on period

- I’ll say that he loves to watch you smile and dance

-ass grabber indeed.

-“Y/n!!! You should teach some more moves like this in private like in your bed room!”

-“y/n-chwannnn!!!!~ y-your ass it’s on m-my.”

-will immediately take you to another room to strictly eat you out

[lemony-snickers]

petrichor for the prompts please? It’s currently storming and my are is under nearly every watch/warning imaginable right now (thunderstorm, flooding, and tornado being the big ones). Remembering that there’s new growth and life springing up around me helps me during gloomy days like this.

I’m happy to see you writing again, lem. It brings me joy.

Sending you warm and cozy thoughts full of your favorite warm beverage, blanket, a fire, and a beautiful view 💜

(aaah, stay safe! we had hail & massive thunderstorms here over the weekend and it was pretty scary! i hope it passes quickly and that there's no real damage where you are. also, i hope you don't mind i chose our beloved yams because when i think of petrichor, i think of forests, and, well, you can probably figure out the rest, ahaha. <3)

There are few things Tenzo likes more than being in the forest after a storm. The fresh smell of rain, of loam, of life bristling all around him, never ceases to induce a sensation of both contentment and excitement.

Appreciation for the humidity and the quiet, anticipation for everything new yet to come.

The moss is soft beneath him, squelching a little in places where the land dips and water has collected. He doesn't mind the wet feet, though. The one thing shinobi sandals are good for is that they drain easily. And it's warm enough he isn't concerned about his toes getting cold.

He pauses to take a long, deep breath through his nose, to enjoy the earthy scent all around him. It's like the heavy drops of precipitation have activated the world anew; awakening the dirt and the bark of the trees, coaxing them to life. He breathes it all in and feels like he is one with the forest.

Maybe his kinship with it has something to do with mokuton. Perhaps his tranquil nature and his love of the woods is all part of his complicated relationship to his own body; the cells that replicate inside him which were put there by someone else.

If so, perhaps his appreciation for nature is the only gift Orochimaru ever gave him.

The rains have been heavy in Fire Country this season, and the proof is all around him. The greenery is brighter than usual, the stems of flowers and ferns hardy and thick, brimming with strength. Birds chirp, fluttering their wings as they bathe in puddles left by the storm.

The forest swells with life, and it invigorates Tenzo on his journey. He has no destination today, no mission to complete. His time, for now, is his own, and amongst the damp leaves and sticky mud and biting insects is the only way he'd ever consider enjoying it.

The sound of an animal in the brush catches his attention and Tenzo alights easily to a tree branch overhead to survey his surroundings. At first, he thinks perhaps it's a fox--the copper fur catches his eyes between verdant leaves. But it seems much too small for a fox. Perhaps a kit, then.

Tenzo climbs down from his perch and approaches slowly, not wanting to spook the creature if he can help it. It might be injured or sick if it's wandering the forest so close to him in broad daylight, and he does not relish a trip to the infirmary if it decides to attack.

When he pushes aside the leaves, Tenzo has to stifle a laugh.

It's no fox, no kit, but a bedraggled, half-drowned looking orange tabby, who glares at him from beneath sodden, matted fur, ears flattened and hissing as it sneers.

"Got caught in the rain, huh?" he asks, smirking at the feline as it makes a ferocious rumbling sound somewhere deep in its belly. Tenzo just chuckles. "Yes, you're very terrifying. Now come here."

The cat hisses when Tenzo unzips his vest and scoops it up in his arms, but it's not as if this is any more difficult than wrangling a rambunctious ANBU squad at the bar or rousing Kakashi-senpai for a particularly early mission departure. So with minimal effort, Tenzo manages to secure the cat in his grasp, holding it firmly against his chest so he can use his other sleeve to dry the creature's head and back, letting the rest of the moisture seep into the front of his shirt.

At first, the cat struggles, digging its needle-like claw into Tenzo's forearms and chest. "Oh, knock it off, you're fine," he says, continuing to help the cat dry off. The method isn't perfect, by any means, but by the time he sets the cat back on its feet, it's much less drowned-looking than when he found it.

"There you are," he says, still chuckling, "try to stay out of the rain next time."

And then he's on his way again, marching back toward Konoha listening to the birds and the rush of water in a nearby stream, trying very hard not to let on that he can sense the cat stalking him through the undergrowth.

He's unsure whether it does so out of gratitude or irritation, but it hardly matters.

One cat to another, Tenzo doesn't find his new orange shadow to be much of a threat.

It's not until he's home he has to make a decision--leave it outside or let it in. It's not much of a decision, though, because as soon as his front door is open half an inch, the thing darts inside like it's always lived there.

Tenzo rolls his eyes, resigned to his evening. He'll put up posters tomorrow to see if the stray belongs to anyone, but for now, he's too tired and content to worry over it.

As he sprawls on his bed a little while later, the cat climbs up to join him.

"Oh, so you like me now, huh?" he asks.

The cat glares, but still settles on his chest to fall asleep, purring all the while. Tenzo's new companion still smells like the forest--like the damp earth and green leaves he loves so much.

He'll still make the posters, but it seems to him like maybe that's a sign.

prompt list for those interested. <3

[lupine-princess]

PSA

I am in the process of writing my first ever fan fiction. I have been a reader only for many years, but I finally listened to the encouragement the wonderful and esteemed @kittenofdoomage gave me at least a year or two ago now. Yeah, I know...it took that long for me overcome my own self doubt and silence the little demon in my brain that says mean things all the time, but I never forgot the lovely human above telling me to go for it.

While I am enjoying writing again (I've written for years but never really shared any of my work that wasn't for a class), I am finding myself having much more respect for writers than I already had and it was a LOT I swear. Just today I have spent an hour and a half on this story and the plot has moved forward...none. I've written quite a bit, but Main Female will *not* stop drooling over Main Male. Last night I stopped right after she firat saw him and her brain started functioning again. The story now just finished her reacting to him speaking for the first time. It took me an hour and a half to get here y'all! I mean girl, same, but this was *supposed* to be a one shot of maybe a couple thousand words. You know, just dipping my toes into writing again? This thing is now 10 pages long...I clearly underestimated a *lot*.

That's not to say there's not actual story happening, there is. But I'm a little freaked out by this and frustrated at the same time. Its a song fic, too so...given I'm telling the story of the song, it should have been easy-ish. Or easier than coming up with a story completely on my own right? Not. At. All! (And please note I'm not saying writing of any kind is easy, I just seem do better personally when I have something like a mental road map. Not everyone feels that way and that is totally fair and valid.)

Thing is, I shouldn't be surprised...this is a rabid plot bunny that has been tormenting me for *years.* The thing makes this thing ⬇

look like the very height of sweet and cute and cuddly. If I actually thought it would be quick or easy in any way, I clearly wasn't paying attention...

Anyway, I am going to be posting this thing in three parts on AO3 at the very least. On here, it might all be in one long post, because frankly, I have no idea how to do any of this or how complicated it will be. I'm really hoping someone will read it and give feedback, good or bad (constructive only if bad please), so I know what to work on. I really want to get back into writing again, so hopefully this will help?

I'm going to tag a few people when I post this thing (hopefully that's okay with them), because I follow them, love their work, and respect their opinions as writers. Anyone I follow that I don't tag, its not because I don't absolutely adore them, its because I can only summon so much bravery and that means that not everyone will get tagged that I would love to, unless they give me permission.

I'll go ahead a tag a couple of people so if they want to give or refuse permission, they can do that. Thanks in advance to everyone!

@kittenofdoomage @holylulusworld @impala-dreamer @jay-and-dean

[system-of-a-feather]

By the way, do whatever cringey shit it takes to cope in the healthiest way possible and make decisions in your best interest.

Like this body has a horrendous oral fixation, and Aderis and myself have really bad impulse control when we are stressed + an really strong drive to use substances which our body has actually managed to very well dodge solely because we have obsessive, control freak, super stressed and anxious parts for better or worse. It's something I used to hate the fuck out of and think was excessive but thinking on it, its definitely a good idea cause we have 0 resistance against any form of addiction and very easily develop psychological dependence on things that aren't even chemically addictive, so like 100% if we were to dip our toes into that, it could easily be an avalanche

Even said, specifically for me, the urge to start smoking is stupid hard to deal with a lot of the time between my very very very intense oral fixation, my impulsive short sighted "funny and aesthetic" brain, and the fact I'm a mentally ill traumatized bitch and like, ever since I've been back and aware of myself I've been like "I REALLY want to smoke" and everyone in the system being like "NO." and then them chucking me a different chew toy to help redirect that urge and energy

But at a certain point our crackhead child (little, nickname) grabbed a tooth pick to chew on or something I forget, and my brain fucking clicked that it very deeply itched the exact need and feeling my brain needed almost perfectly without actually having the chemical shit. And a lot of the time when I'm chewing on one, I'll unintentionally and without thinking of it, handle it like a cig because my brain just substitutes the psychological itch.

My "predecesor" in the system (aka Aderis) had a similar issue with drinking and while mine came more intuitively, but she figured out in early middle school that since we had no access to alcohol and "would die" if we tried, she just pretended Dr Pepper cans and bottles were booze and told herself it was a depressant that numbed and calmed shit down. To this day, Dr Pepper post-breakdown mostly actually mellows us out and lowers anxiety which is wild since Dr Pepper has caffeine which is supposed to do the opposite

And yeah, is it cringe for someone to act as if a tooth pick is a cigarette? Yeah, is it cringe for someone to act and treat Dr. Pepper like its alcohol? Yeah. But is it better to be "not cringe" or cringe and not slipping down a really unhealthy slope?

Not saying its bad to have picked up the habits or to have substance use issues - god no. That shits complicated, rough, and honestly - if it wasn't for the fact that the system has done an amazing job keeping the body clean - probably would use them myself.

But like, main point is that fucking like. Be cringe if that helps you live a healthier life and / or a life closer to what you want.

People can call me a cringe edgelord wanna be for how I handle my toothpicks, cause I really don't care about 1) being an edgelord beyond the meme and 2) don't really care what people say about that cause I do this cause it makes me feel good and helps me think and process shit better and I'd rather have a psychological dependence to toothpicks than I would to tobacco and nicotine. If someone has an issue with that, thats their problem.

[tobeornottotc]

I agree that BLs could be so much better and so much more in terms of the writing, direction, production and more variety in settings and genre. Thailand is the leader and GMMTv is the biggest so they should and could be pushing boundaries but they are not or atleast are very slow to change. I suspect a lot of the reason why is homophobia and the need to place lgbqt people all in neat boxes with little to no complexity. But we as consumers of the BL media should demand more with the product.

Hi,

I think it's complicated because most people behind producing and writing BLs for GMMTV are queer themselves so I won't say it's homophobia being the obstacle I think it's just how they perceive the BL fandom/culture over there, Y novels are extremely popular and will lead to easy fame for their celebrities, so they tend to go the shallow route of not challenging that, all they think fans want is skinship that makes them ship the couple too in reality, and a love story that makes people swoon with different tropes associated with the genre. The focus is always just getting a medium to do that easily, quickly and in high quantity so people feel satisfied with at least one storyline depending on their tastes and likes. They are slow to change because it is a capitalistic mindset, what they're doing is working for them and produces a lot of money for the company when following the correct template (2gether, Bad buddy etc) so they rather just stick to that, it means normally writers and directors go in mind with a bl storyline how to make it work for fans and make money and sell the couples rather than just wanting to tell an amazing story or create an amazing series. Like I said you have exceptions there are some that have the goal of representation with BL so they change and edit the novels they take, and now GMMTV is also putting more effort in hiring original stories for BL (also capitalistic to sell novels lol) so they are dipping their toes, they know the audience wants queer storylines so they hire someone who can do that like the warped effect, but they know the audience wants something more, hopefully we get more variety other than just adding representation as a way to do that, i want budget and quality and risks with more varied genres for bl, more worlds to be explored, some unique ideas like the gifted and Midnight museum, something that focuses on storytelling and creativity than just the normal template. Right now they tried with my school president to elevate not change the template and it worked, and like I said I'm hoping Parbdee BL this year (Be my favorite) is more than just the typical BL I know already the director has a goal more than just that as he has put even his own money into the production and changed filming style and production of a typical bl show. We'll see if he is forced to stay stagnant and keep the template format or if there's more he could do with the time travel aspect, (the novel is quite shallow as with jittirain so i'm hoping its more like Not me where they take the idea and just recreate everything else than just film the novel storyline with a few small changes to accomadate more convo about representation). Just me anyways i hope this year GMMTV experiments and risk taking in all their categories will also include BL i'm hoping even when being pessimistic that midnight museum is a test as well. next step more budget and quality (which they are slowly improving on for every show)

[bookwyrminspiration]

(Feel free to delete this ask if u want) so Im afab I’m kinda confused about my gender. I don’t feel like a woman, or man, or anything else. Every time I consider any gender terms they all seem fine. And I’ve heard the term gender apathetic but I’m not sure it applies to me. My gender just feels sort of like a gray blob. Its not really anything in particular. I also don’t want to misidentify as genderqueer because I already hate having to keep my sexuality in the closet and it would be so much easier to just see my self as cis. I’m afraid to even use anything other than she/her online because I don’t want to get too used to them and accidentally do something I might regret irl.

-Lenore

It's nice to meet you, Lenore, and I think I can understand parts of your experience. I will say that genderqueer isn't something you can really identify with wrong. It's not exclusive to people who aren't cis; cis people can be genderqueer. Anyone can! There's so much that falls under the umbrella, any relationship outside of the gender norms (being trans, being agender, being cis and relating to some experiences of other genders, dressing in ways that defy gender norms, and so much more!) can be genderqueer if that's what you call it.

That being said, it's also 100% okay for you to not identify with the label or to have no label to identify with. You don't have to explore your gender if you don't want to. If you're not in a place where it's easy or safe, or if you plain don't feel like it, that's okay. Exploring yourself can be a whole process sometimes, and it's not required.

If you do want to look into it more, you can take it slow. You can just dip your toes in, and at any point you can back out. That's the great part about it: it's on your own terms!

I can share some of my own experiences with gender and how it works for me as well, because what you're describing sounds similar to my feelings. I'm not a woman, not a man, I'm not nonbinary, I'm not agender. I'm not anything! Any of those words applied to me feels the same because none of them are me. My favorite response to questions about my gender are that it's N/A to me

I've tried for a while to figure out how to explain it and the closest I've gotten is this: it's like asking how tall water is. Height isn't a concept that applies to water. Sure, you can put water in a glass and measure how tall that is, but that's not really how water works. You can only get a height because you put it into something else that shaped it first, you didn't actually measure the height of the water because that doesn't exist. And yeah, water can have depth, but that's the water conforming to its container, not the water itself. Because water doesn't have a height.

That's what gender is like for me. Sure, I can come up with an answer, but any answer will be formed by something else and won't actually apply to gender itself. Because it doesn't exist for me. It's not missing, it's not empty, it just doesn't apply.

And there's no one right way to proceed from there! I often think that if I'd never thought about gender at all, I would've been perfectly fine living out the rest of my life as a woman. It's not like it's bad! It would've been simple to not think about, so if that's the route you want to take that is completely okay.

You can also pick up and put on as many or as little labels as you like. You don't need to go searching for them if you don't want to. If gender apathetic doesn't feel right, then don't use it! If you want to give it a try, then use it! I think it's important to remember that the only labels that are yours are the ones you choose. If some label technically fits, that doesn't mean you need to use it. Technically, I don't identify with my gender assigned at birth. I could call myself trans using that reasoning (being trans is more complicated than that, but for this example I'm using a simple definition), but I don't want to, so I don't!

I don't want to ramble forever, but my main point here is that it's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to; there are no requirements. Being confused about gender doesn't mean you have to explore it; it's just an option. You don't have to change labels, or to have any at all in the first place. If pronoun changes are too scary right now, you don't need to do that. If it's something you want, then you can work up to it on your own terms.

And whatever you decide now, you can change your mind later. If you don't want to explore your gender, but decide in ten years you'd like to, that's perfectly fine! If you start to explore and decide you don't want to anymore, you can stop. It's all on your terms.

I don't know if any of this will be of any help, but if you ever want to talk about it or have questions, I'm here! Whatever it may be, I'm open and more than happy to do what I can. I hope you're doing well <3

[loadofoldjuk]

#10 - Well, how did I get here? - 2nd August

My Limit Break work has continued over the last month under the tutorage of John Kennedy, a vastly experienced programmer currently working as a producer at Auroch Digital. The opportunity to speak with him has been a pleasure and his guidance has uplifted my abilities.

I dipped my toes into learning the Unreal engine, looking at the sample game 'Lyra'.

The project acts as an engine of its own, allowing expansion of the base FPS game or reshaping it to entirely different genres. I followed a short tutorial that saw me implementing a new map and a new weapon to the FPS portion, this taught me a lot but I still feel the need to work on fundamental Unreal skills.

The bulk of this month has been spent continuing to traverse the world of Catlike Coding, this time following a tutorial on creating random noise. The first part involved creating a hash, using it to display a grid of varying colours and amplitude and allowing this to be wrapped around shapes.

Hash grid, with the same hash pattern transformed into a sphere

The rest of the tutorial saw the use of this hash to generate random noise which looks far more natural than the designs above, I'll do my best to explain how this was done, but to say it melted my brain is an understatement. The first task was creating value noise, which involves placing various points with various heights across a line, plane or cube (depending on how many dimensions you want) and then sloping between them. It creates a result that looks like a World of Warcraft mountain range.

See if you can tell which one of these images is a Value Noise plane and which is the Redridge Mountains!

This is better but still looks blocky, so the next step is to implement Perlin noise (also known as gradient noise). Instead of the same progression for each, each point uses the hash to create a unique function, making the slopes bumpy.

Extra settings were introduced allowing special types of noise to be generated. Tiled noise, creates a repeated pattern over a domain, fractal noise repeats the function at a smaller level and turbulent noise flips negative values so the whole pattern points up.

From left to right; tiled noise, fractal noise and turbulent noise

Then, an extra type of noise was added called Voronoi noise which looks angular and artificial. It's created by placing various points in a space and drawing to the nearest point. You can then combine this by misusing the closest point from the second closest to create a neat-looking pattern.

Voronoi noise using the second closet point minus the closest point

Finally, the tutorial saw the implementation of Simplex noise, which uses adding multiple, limited, values on a simple shape grid rather than a more complicated kind. The UK heatwave had started by this point so I apologise for this vague explanation, I had trouble understanding it myself.

Simplex noise, pretty but confusing

I just want to speak briefly about the fact that I am not a genius. A lot of my time with these tutorials has been reading something, not understanding it, reading it over and over, sorta understanding it, implementing it, not understanding it. Sometimes, however, you have to be dropped into the deep end and learn to swim to shore. My hope is trying my best against harder problems will make all problems easier in comparison. Will see, but until next time.

--Jacob

Mix of the Day: hasn't Balatro got a weirdly good soundtrack? It's all just one track, but it just sounds so funky, I'd highly recommend it.

[fadebolt]

Oooookaaayyy, I've checked out the stream and the news, and to say that I'm pumped would be putting things quite lightly.

Of course, it was fun to see the devs talk about stuff, some lovely folks I know from the Container popping up in the museum, and the Sanshee restock (that I'm contemplating about ordering from, even though my preordered Slugpup plushies haven't even been sent out yet).

But most importantly, we have the thing that everyone's been raving about....

A new DLC centered around Nightcat!

I very much adore this for many reasons.

The wording, as well as the screenshots in the Steam post imply that we're gonna be in a completely new area, away from the long abandoned facility grounds of LttM and FP. The new regions/areas were the absolute best part of Downpour, and having a DLC that is seemingly centered around them on an even bigger level just sounds incredible (Jadzio might also have some fun polling them, too :D).

The animation of the trailer is also pretty neat. It's short, sure, but there's just something about seeing Rain World in this new style that makes me smile. Style alternating is what makes me love League's animated media so much, and I'm very happy that RW is starting to dip its toes into that too.

The naming of the new Slugcat, as well as its stationary stealth ability... dude is a Slugcat Night Elf, fair and square. This could be a coincidence, sure, but I would absolutely not be surprised if there're some Warcraft fans amongst the devs, because that's a very obvious connection that I've made pretty much immediately. And I'm not saying that as a way of criticism - because I freaking love Night Elves, not just from a story and thematic perspective, but also their gameplay in Warcraft 3 (Terror of the Tides being an incredible campaign, and Eternity's End having a bunch of awesome moments helps a ton, too).

As for how me and the rest of the fandom will handle the Watcher in headcanons and potential content going forward, well...

It's gonna be a bit tricky, for sure. I imagine the DLC will not come out for quite a while, but it'll most likely shatter all my headcanons and lore ideas to pieces, and any plans of me writing stories about Nightcat just got even more complicated now. But I don't mind this too much, as I'm confident I'll be more than capable of figuring out how to integrate the official content into my stuff, and the same applies to the rest of the fandom, too (and if all else fails, I can always pull the "Nightcat and Watcher are two entirely different characters" card, but that sounds uncreative and boring, and I wanna avoid that, even if Enot was pretty much globally accepted as a different character, despite their color, and them mentioning 'being removed from Arena').

One other positive to mention is that Nightcat X Spearmaster might actually blow up a decent bit now. And if that happens, I'll get to claim the royal title of being someone from the original Inkblot gang, which will be amazing. Plus, more content about my favorite pair, who wouldn't be happy about that?

I just hope that the fandom isn't going to get into crazy arguments/dramas over the Watcher/Nightcat stuff. Everyone is going to change their content around the new revelations differently, and that's ok. I'm probably worrying about nothing here, but I have seen folks pick bones with creators over minor harmless stuff before, so my concerns are probably valid. Let's just let everyone have fun with whatever approach they wish to take, m'kay?

That's all my thoughts regarding the new revelations for now. If this post came off as a bit mixed, then I want to clarify that I'm still absolutely excited about the new content, and I'm very glad that this forgotten scug is getting its well deserved resurgence.

Everything is gonna be great and fun, and I am very much hyped about it! (I'm already in love with all the fan content, btw. The speed at which everyone is showing appreciation is simply staggering. You guys are impressive as all hell!)

[myxinidaes]

sage and ivy?

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

oh MAN i go inSAAAAAAAAANE over everything always but i think..... absolutely nothing can beat a perfectly illustrated comic. it's got it all. art. fiction. imagery and shit. and then you have to make it all WORK TOGETHER???? wild. i genuinely think that sequential illustrations are like. peak art. and yeah obviously when its done bad it sucks but i would argue you have a lottt more to think about than illustrating or writing alone. bc its a combination of the two!!!!!! and your writing has to compliment your illustrating and vice versa. if one thing is out of balance it detracts from the entire effect. and since it's a visual art form even the font and font size and the word bubbles/ lack of word bubbles are integral to the experience!!! scott mccloud wrote this book on comics that i think about CONSTANTLY like its so so so complex there are so many things that go into even two panels. and since it's illustrating you can make each individual snapshot of time as complicated with as much symbolism as you want...!

.... my ultimate goal for drawing in 2023 is to start dipping my toes into sequential illustrating. over time my daydreaming has slowly become little comic thumbnails which is kind of embarrassing but also i really really really want to do comics. sorry this isnt actually the question at all i just think comics are so fucking cool.

howEVER. good poetry????? life altering. mary oliver lives rent free in my mind. good writing? makes me feel shrimp emotions. good music? on the ground sobbing. there's this one statue of a woman holding her baby and i saw a picture of it and stared at it for like three minutes straight.....

i don't vibe so much with abstract art, but sometimes it's cool too! someone said that the point of really basic-seeming abstract art was to make people think about why they didnt do it either and i guess that's interesting in the hypothetical but then i go to a modern art gallery and likeeeeee man i dont really care.

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

i'm pretty constantly tired due to *waves at sleep disorder* so i dont think i have any special tells for that other than yawning and being quiet haha. upset/annoyed is withdrawing or getting snappy

happy/content is for sure talking a lot or singing quietly i am soooooo annoying but also i dont really care! it's nice to be happy and if its not hurting other people. whatever! u know? nobody is being forced to interact with me

[nickgerlich]

Fully Charged

About 110 years ago, when automobile travel was just taking off and a network of roads was created to connect Points A and B, and all the others in between, finding gas to fuel those cars was not so easy. Early travelers frequently hung jerry cans full of gasoline along the sides of their cars to get them through the long stretches with nary a gas station for miles.

Never mind that those early cars burned oil about as fast as they burned gas, and people had to take a case of oil with them as well. I have found those oil cans on some of my adventures in the west, following traces of the National Old Trails Road in Arizona.

The market eventually caught up, and privately owned gas stations were soon every few miles, the only exceptions being some of the most remote corners of the nation. You could buy your gas and oil, along with a cold soda and souvenirs. Today, there are more than 150,000 retail gas outlets in the US.

But a similar conundrum is facing early adopters of EVs, parallel in many ways to what early autoists faced early in the 20th century. The main difference is that you can’t hang a jerry can of electricity off your Tesla. There are currently 46,000 charging stations, but sometimes it can be tough to find one when you need it. I’m looking at you, Wyoming and Montana.

To help address this problem, Hertz and BP just announced they are teaming up to add thousands of chargers across the US. This is a critical part of Hertz’s plan to buy about 240,000 EVs over the next five years from several manufacturers.

It’s an interesting partnership. Given Hertz’s initiative to have at least 25% of its fleet in the form of EVs, it needs to help make it possible for customers to charge them. And, Hertz will need to charge its own vehicles so they are always ready to go. I suspect many of these new charging stations will be located at car rental facilities, but Hertz says the chargers will also be available to the general public. Oh, and Hertz and its EV suppliers all know that they are providing a low-risk opportunity for the same general public to try an EV.

And then there is BP, a petroleum company dipping not just a big toe, but both feet, into the electric pond. This is a good move, because the migration to EVs, while slow and not without numerous problems, will happen one day. If BP wishes to survive into the long term, it has to be able to provide fuel, no matter what form it is in.

Unfortunately, we still have to deal with range anxiety, as well as the time it takes to charge an EV. As much as I am a proponent of EVs, I am not ready to buy one. My style of travel is long and hard, and often into very remote areas. I also don’t want to have mandatory layovers. Further complicating matters is that I really do not need an EV for my daily driver. Why spend another $40K just to be able to drive to work quietly? Someday, though, and hopefully before I get too old to drive.

Buried in the news about the partnership is the fact that Hertz may apply for available federal funding to make this happen. Critics of EVs will scowl, of course, because it amounts to a subsidy. But we all must remember that the petroleum industry is also explicitly and implicitly subsidized in the US. It helps explain why our fuel is so much cheaper here than in other nations.

And I get it. The US is somewhat a victim of its own geography, with vast wide open spaces in the west that will probably never be populated. We love road tripping, and drive great distances to do so, not even thinking about Disneyland being more than 1000 miles away. We just do it. It’s the American way.

Just like we figured it out more than a century ago, we’ll figure it out with EVs. There will be charging stations everywhere, and likely many many more than retail gas stations. After all, a charging station does not need a big real estate footprint. Future EVs will have longer range and will be charged in a matter of minutes, not hours.

It is at this point that people will look back on the Hertz/BP partnership and recognize what a smart move it is. That, too, is the American way.

Dr “Waiting Patiently“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

[optimistpax]

Do you know what order to read the IDW comics in, and/or where to read them all?

I think it kinda depends what interests you about the comics! I haven’t read all the comics (yet) so there might be more comprehensive lists out there depending on what you’re looking for, but here are my opinions on some possible places to get started! The one nice thing about how messy American comics can get is it’s not as important to read them in a particular order.

TLDR: Try starting with either the 2019 comics (Transformers (2019): vol. 1 the world in your eyes) or more than meets the eye (Transformers vol. 1: more than meets the eye). There is a high probability that you will be able to find both at your local library digitally if not in print!

First you’re gonna wanna choose a continuity. I’m assuming you’re probably thinking of the later bits of the 2005 run bc that’s what’s popular here, but I’m gonna talk about both of them just in case!

IDW2 (2019-2022)

IDW2 is the newer of the two IDW continuities. I’m putting it first because it’s shorter and easy to get into since it only started in 2019 and will be wrapping up sometime this summer (2022). You start with Transformers (2019) Vol. 1: The World in Your Eyes and go from there! Straightforward numbered volumes my beloved. There are also beast wars and shattered glass comics that are (will be?) collected in their own volumes if that interests you but they’re separate from the main series.

IDW2 is also easy to get into because all of the main series ebooks (so far) are available on overdrive (the provider for library ebooks) so if you have a library card you can access it through your library’s preferred ebook platform (usually hoopla or libby)!

idw2 has really beautiful art, a large cast of characters, and the plot kicks off with a murder mystery on a previously crime-free cybertron before the war. So if that’s your jam it’s a good place to start with transformers comics!

IDW1 (2005-2019)

IDW1 is a little more complicated to get into due to its longer run time, but there are a couple different built in jumping on points that IDW tried to add for readers who wanted to get into it later but didn’t want to read 200+ issues first.

The most obvious possibility is to read the comics chronologically, starting with Transformers: Infiltration. There are loads of lists online to find out what series comes next! The downside of reading them all chronologically of course is that there are SO MANY comics and the quality varies wildly. Aside from the crossover comics, Infiltration probably has the heaviest influence from the G1 cartoon and the marvel comics in terms of art style in the IDW comics. It’s set on earth jn the middle of the cybertronian war. It’s a little clunky but it’s also kinda fun, so if that’s your jam it might be a good place to start!

Then we get into the comics I haven’t read so I can’t really speak to them, but I think All Hail Megatron was also built in as a possible jumping on point? You would have to find someone who has read more comics than me to figure that out though.

The Last Stand of the Wreckers miniseries works pretty well as a stand-alone story imo so if you’re looking to dip your toes in and are looking for a good, tense War Story that’s a possible place to start as well! It is also available digitally through most libraries and works well as smth optional to read either before or with mtmte to add some context to volume 2!

You can also start with what is afaik the most popular IDW series, More Than Meets the Eye. The first volume starts with the one shot The Death of Optimus Prime (which I would recommend trying to start with if you’re not reading the volumes) and the rest of the series follows the crew of the lost light on their post-war space road trip. The writing is snappy and the art is really nice. Most people start here (myself included) and it’s the best place in IDW1 to start reading imo! As for order you can read all of mtmte, take or leave dark cybertron, and then read Lost Light without too many problems I believe. Lost Light and the first half of mtmte can all also be found digitally in the library!

Mtmte has a sister series Robots in Disguise (which later changes its name to just The Transformers I think?). It happens concurrent to mtmte so if you read the two series at the same time you will have a better idea of what’s going on during the cross over event, but you don’t have to. It’s more of a political drama set on Cybertron as it rebuilds after the war, which isn’t really my jam but it might be yours! There are other series that might be related to this one like Windblade? And Optimus Prime? But hell if know what order they all go in. These series can be found in some libraries but it’s more touch and go. They’re available in the library for the city i go to school in, but not the library for the city I’m from so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And that’s all I’ve got! Hopefully you find this a little bit helpful and I hope you have lots of fun reading transformers comics! I know I sure am :)

[sweetiejunie]

Jealous

Summary: You get jealous that he was ‘flirting’ with another idol

Genre: fluff, smut «dont read if you dislike this, you have been warned»

Yeonjun x reader

—.*•—

💕request by anon: Hi! May I request jealous sex with Yeonjun? In which case the reader get's jealous of another idol being too close with Yeonjun?

A/n: havent wrote a smut in a while, hope you liked this!

======================================

You were ignoring him. Was it petty? Yes. Was it necessary? Well, to you it was. Did he deserve it? That was debatable, but to you it was a hell yeah he did.

So, what exactly did he do that made you this mad? Some may say it was harmless. Some may say you were overreacting. But he was flirting with another girl! Right in front of you! Another idol to be exact.

Okay sure, technically the both of you weren’t in a relationship. And yes, he had free will do what he wanted. The relationship between the two of you could have been described as... complicated. It was painfully obvious that the two of you liked each other. I mean, every-time you passed each other, yeonjun would either blow you a kiss or wink at you playfully. And you loved to tease him every now and then. Throwing him random complements that added to his — already— overinflated ego and then breaking it down again and vice versa. It was all in good fun, of course. And he knew that. It was just how your dynamic worked with him. It had been months since it first started, and you practically already acted like a couple, with all the hand holding, kissing and things that were better left to the imagination. You just never made it official, but everyone who knew you, knew the both of you were off limits.

Long story short, that’s how yeonjun ended up in you apartment. You hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. You left shortly after you witnessed the whole... ordeal... take place. You had just taken a shower, wrapping yourself in your thin silk robe when your door bell rang. And here he was.

“Come on y/n, I’ve already apologised.” He tried for what was most likely the tenth time.

You didn’t budge. Frankly speaking, you’ve already forgiven him, maybe after his second apology or so. But seeing his attempts to gain your forgiveness was just too cute to pass on. You were sure he had figured that out by now and was simply playing alone.

“Y/n, please? I’m sorry.” He pouted this time, trying to catch you glance. Giving you puppy dog eyes the entire time. “I was just kidding. You know i would never hit on anyone other than you.”

You didn’t reply, trying your hardest not to let a smile break your, slowly but surely, shattering demeanour .

“Y/nnnnn,” he whined again, poking your cheek. “I swear i was just having a conversation.”

Gosh, why did this boy had to be so darn cute all the time.

You let giggled escape this time. By the time you caught yourself, he’d already noticed. And he took that opportunity to hook an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Sealing your back against his chest.

Something pulled at his lips, “i really am sorry.” A short pause before he continued. “Were you really that jealous?” You weren’t even facing him, but you hear the smug grin that was plastered on his face.

His question caught you off guard. “I- I was not jealous.” Never have you wanted to crawl under the table as much as you did in this moment.

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Is that so?” His hands rubbing gentle circles against your sides. “My mistake, then. But i have to admit,” he leaned in closer to your ear to whisper, “that knowledge actually made me extremely turned on.”

Your cheeks coloured at his confession. How were you supposed to reply to that?

“Baby... let me make it up to you,” he murmured.

He placed his hand on your shoulders, spinning you to face him as he leaned towards you. His lips were soft yet unrelentingly firm. Wasting no time to make your thoughts go blurry with nothing but the idea of him. He let his hand slide down your thighs, over the robe you wore. Lifting you to your toes then hire, he wrapped your legs around his waist. The lower half of the robe parted as the upper half rolled of your shoulders.

Yeonjun’s growing hardness pressed into you, and your body answered on its own accord, moving against him, dragging a grunt out from him. You weren’t sure if it was his hand kneading at your rear, feeling of him between your thighs or the intensity of the kiss that drove you closer to the edge. Perhaps it was a combination of everything. Everything about this man drove you insane.

“Bedroom?” His chest rising heavily against yours.

You nodded and his lips were back on yours as he walked you both to your room. Not having to look where he was going, he knew your entire apartment by muscle memory.

After several moments, one of his arms folded over your waist, his other in your hair as he lowered you onto the bed. The back of head rested on your pillows as his hand eased from underneath you. You opened your eyes when you felt the bed dip with his weight. His hands on either side of your head as he hovered over you.

Noticing that the robe had now slipped even further, you wanted to cover yourself. But you didn’t move. The swells of your breasts were now visible, and an entire leg was out, all the way to you hip. You simply shifted your gaze to his.

Neither of you spoke as his chests rose and fell, his breathing as uneven as yours. His lips parted, but no words came out. His muscles rigid as he held him up before he ducked his to neck. Kissing a trail along your jaw, down to your collar bones. Your breath hitched as you burned more.

“Y/n...” there was an abundance of need in that one word, your name. “Let me make it up to you the only way i know how.”

His hand drifted over you stomach, where your skin had been exposed. You could barely breathe or think as his lips brushed against the neckline of the robe. You felt the warm glide of his tongue through the fabric. You gasped, shocked by the act and rush that it brought you. His gaze lifted to you as his mouth closed over the tip of your breast. He sucked deep and long, and your gasp quickly turned into a cry. You felt his hand move closer to where you needed him the most, pressing down against your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

“Mmm.” His lips shifted back to your neck. “You like that, baby?”

There was no point replying. He already knew the answer, and he did it again, causing you to whimper more.

“You’re very wet, y/n.” He breathed against your jaw. “I like that.” A pause. “I also like how you react to my touch.”

Without another word, yeonjun turned you to the side, away from him. Confused, you looked back to him as he stretched out behind you. He rested on his elbow and met your eyes.

“I’ll take care of you,” he hummed, pulling you into the cradle of his hip.

Your robe had slipped and now there was nothing but the jeans he wore between your bare rear and the hard length of him. You bit your lip as he trailed down you side and lifted your leg, sliding one of his between. His hand drew along your body before meeting with your wetness. His touch remaining light, almost featherlike, as he slid a finger across your center, causing your entire body to twitch. He continued this motion for what felt like eternity, and then he sank that finger in. You kicked your head back against his chest, letting out a breathy moan.

“You’re the only one for me,” he grunted. “You know that.” He pulled his finger almost completely out of you before inching it back in again.

You couldn’t respond as fire sparked inside of you with each thrust of his finger. He angled his hand so that his thumb could brush against your sensitive nerves. Each motion taking more breathe out of you. His worked his other arm around you, and across your chest. Palming and squeezing your breast as he worked in a second finger.

“Yeonjun.” You managed, your hips still moving.

And you could tell he was loosing his composure when he replied. “Ah fuck.” He sucked in a breath. “Just ride my fingers.”

You cried out, rubbing harder against his hand, against him. His breaths hitched in his throat as you did this. Looking back, you saw him watching hand, watching you grind and clench around them. Right then, you couldn’t even remember what you had been jealous about. Was it some bitch? Well, she wasn’t the one here with yeonjun now. Your stomach tightened as you continued to ride his fingers, riding his length that pressed against you behind.

He started to move so there was space between your bodies. Instead, you reached for his hip, nails digging into his skin as a silent demand.

And yeonjun obeyed.

He stilled, cursing as his plunged his fingers faster, rubbing your clit harder. You rocked against him, the feeling in your lower stomach becoming too much. With a final thrust, you moaned out when you came. You shuddered around his fingers and he shuddered against you, still moving his digits, exploiting every sensation from you until you went limb in his arms.

You stayed there, both your breathing slowly steadying. He eased out of you and you turned your head to face him. You expected to see that cocky grin of his. But you caught the red hue that tinted his cheeks instead. And slowly you became aware of the dampness at your lower back. You eyes widened when you realised.

“Sorry,” a sheepish smirk appearing, pulling your robe back to its original state. “Only you could do this to me.”

Now it was your turn for your lips to twitch. “I guess i should get jealous more often, huh?”

“So you were jealous~” he sang.

“Shut up.”

.

.

.

======================================

What was this 😀 i think ive been reading too much

[masonscig]

antidote

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.4k

warnings | mention of rook’s death and breaking her wrist when she was a kid, so you know. a little angst. some suggestive language towards the end!

author’s note | so this is my late entry for day one of warm in wayhaven, cooking – as usual when i’m writing these two i can’t shut up for the life of me

•─────────────────•

He wakes up from his first nap in a week to the smell of chicken.

There’s only one person in the entire warehouse that could be cooking at 2 in the morning without burning the place down.

He trods barefoot down the dark hallway, his sweatpants hung low off his hips.

Putting on pants was a formality, really. But he had roommates that’d have aneurysms over anything less, so he’s usually at least half clothed when he ventures outside of his room.

The smell gets a lot stronger, mixes with other scents the closer he gets.

Her heartbeat’s stronger in his ears, though, so he keeps going, despite the way his nose is crinkled and his fists are clenched.

When he makes his way to the kitchen, he stops at the doorway, perching his hip against the frame.

She’s pulled a chair up to the stove, chin balanced on her knees that are up against her chest.

Her eyes are glued to the big silver pot that sits there, steam leaking out from the ventilation tiny holes in the lid.

Her hair’s tossed up in a messy bun, and from the glimmer of light from the overhead light above the stove, he can see that a few strands are plastered to the back of her neck and forehead.

She reaches out to twist the knob all the way to the left, then struggles to pick the pot up.

Despite him not announcing himself, he’s next to her in a flash, moving the pot to the other burner in a flash.

“Oh, hey,” she murmurs distractedly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah.”

She nods, barely even giving him a second glance, grabbing the lid and placing it on the counter.

The steam threatens to curl higher and higher, but with a quick flip of a switch, the stove’s fan is pulling it into its vents.

There’s something definitely wrong with her – she’ll bake cupcakes for an elementary school bake sale at 2 a.m., but never soup. Who the fuck makes soup in the dead of night?

“I’m not an expert on human food by any means,” he starts, grimacing at the way the scent wafts towards him when she swirls the wooden spoon through the broth. “But why the hell are you making soup when it’s hot as fuck outside?”

She shrugs, dipping the spoon flat against the surface of the hot broth, filling it to the brim. “I was hungry.”

She brings it to her mouth, lips pursed, and blows on it, thin tendrils of steam floating towards him.

He’s still trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her when she sips it, a small tired smile blooming across her features.

The soft breathy hum that buzzes from her throat is low enough for both of them to hear, nearly matching the pitch of the whirring fan.

He doesn’t wanna press his luck with her, considering they're being civil.

It’d been a week since they were ambushed and she came face to face with her attempted kidnapper.

Things between Mason and Sofía were already… complicated, to say the least.

Different attitudes, different wants, different needs. He’d managed to fail in all three of those categories, disappointing her over and over without really trying to.

There was a certain level of avoidance from the both of them for the days following the ambushing. It’s not that he wanted to get her alone nor he did he care if she was avoiding him, but this was the first time he’d been alone with her all week, so he wasn’t going to actively try to fuck this up.

“That’s it?” he asked, keeping it simple.

She ignores him, instead flitting around the kitchen to grab a bowl and a spoon.

Well, she’d be amicable if she kept quiet – she wasn’t wrong with that one.

He watches as she fishes out sliced vegetables, an ear of corn, and chicken, then fills the bowl to the brim with broth.

Setting it on the table, she grabs a stained tortilla warmer from the microwave and scoots up to her bowl, digging in with one hand, a tortilla rolled in the other.

She’s still sweating under the heat, her chest glistening, the seams of her tattered tank damp underneath her armpits.

He sinks into the chair across from her, arms crossed. 

“You gonna keep ignoring me?”

“Maybe,” she says from behind her hand (and around a mouthful of veggies).

“Tell me to leave, then, and I’ll go. Just say the word, sweetheart.”

He knows she won’t.

She lifts her eyes from the bowl to meet his own lazy gaze. Without saying another word, she dunks her rolled tortilla in the broth and takes a bite.

“That’s what I thought. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’re not that invested in my life outside of work, are you?” She challenges, mashing the back of her spoon against a vegetable until it’s smooth, scooping it up with a little broth and popping it into her mouth.

He shrugs. “I just know you’re lying, that’s all.”

“You lie all the time,” she counters immediately, pointing the tip of the spoon at him.

“When?” He knows she’s right, but she hasn’t brought it up since she stormed away from him outside of the warehouse, drenched and shivering.

“You lied at the bakery.”

Bingo.

He leans forward till his elbows are on the table, resting his chin on the back of his interlaced fingers.

“So that’s what you’re upset about.”

He’s a foot away from her, the temptation of closing the gap between them nearly tugging his shoulders forward.

Her face contorts into a grimace, bordering on disgust. “That’s not at the forefront of my mind, no.”

She swirls her spoon around the bowl, eyes following the movements of her wrist.

“I hate the summer. I always have.”

He stifles a wince as he leans back until his bare back presses against the cool plastic.

“Bad things always happen to me in the summer, you know? Dad died during the summer. Mom forgot to pick me up at science camp for a full twenty-four hours when I was 9, and I had to spend a whole day alone with no friends after everyone had gone home. That’s also the same summer she took her first month-long assignment.

“The next summer, they extended it from a month to a full summer. I broke my wrist on my neighbor’s trampoline, and she didn’t even visit me until my cast was getting sawed off.

“Bobby dumped me for the first time during the summer before he studied abroad so he could sleep with whoever he wanted.”

She shakes her head, dropping the spoon and tortilla.

“Sorry, I, uh, I’m just happier in the fall and winter,” she smiles apologetically.

“And that’s why you’re makin’ soup at 2 a.m.?” He asks, eyeing her warily.

“Yeah, kinda. It sounds stupid when you put it like that, really,” she giggles, scooting the bowl forward so she can rest her elbows there too, her chin in her hands.

A sigh escapes her, low and grim. “This dish is really special to me.”

He waits for her to continue, but she just sinks her teeth into her bottom lip instead, chewing nervously at the skin there.

He kicks his toe against her slipper clad foot, a gentle nudge to get her to speak.

He’s gotten pretty good at reassuring her without words, he thinks. Better than when they first met, that’s for damn sure.

“My favorite picture of my dad and I is one where I’m sitting at my high chair and I barely have two teeth in my mouth and my dad is feeding me mashed zucchini and yucca root. He’s laughing and smiling like he wouldn’t rather be doing anything else in the entire world than eating soup with his daughter.”

Mason stiffens at the mention of her father, and even worse so, feels remorse start to trickle into his bones.

It’s stupid to think he could’ve done anything. He pushes those thoughts to the side, recognizing the remaining scrappy morsels of humanity in him clawing its way to the surface. Impulse has always been the most human part of him – maybe she’s changing that.

He doesn’t really know who he was before this, but what he does know is any inkling of humanity he has surfaces when he’s with her.

Yeah, he can’t feel what it’s like to lose a parent, but watching Sofía tear up over bittersweet memories was enough on its own.

“Your dad cooked?”

“Yeah, from what I can remember, yeah. All of our old cookbooks are in his and my abuela’s handwriting.”

She looks like she wanted to say something more, so he leans back, arms across his chest, waiting.

“When I was in high school, I tried making it on my own and it was so shitty. I wanted to surprise Rebecca, because I knew she was getting back from a stressful work trip, and I couldn’t do it like he did. She didn’t even notice that I’d tried,” she sighs, picking up her spoon again to sip the broth.

She hums again, chews, swallows.

“I don’t know why I was so naive back then, you know? I thought I could chop a couple veggies and toss them into seasoned water and it’d turn out just like Dad made it.

“In reality, I didn’t even know what it tasted like. My mom described the taste to me once before, but she never cooked, so I just went off of what she told me. I romanticized the whole thing right down to making up the flavor in my own head.”

“That’s probably why I made the soup tonight. I miss when I was happy, but even then, what the fuck did that even look like to me? I’m just telling myself I was happy because I saw photos of me being happy, but I can’t recall that feeling by memory at all.”

She darts a hand under her eyes to rub it away before he notices, but he can see her eyes glistening.

“How am I homesick for a life that was never really great to begin with, you know?”

He leans forward, brows furrowed. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember. Fuck those old memories. Make new ones.”

He’s speaking from the heart now, compelled to say something before his mind can stop him.

Chuckling with a quick sniffle, she gets up to grab a drink from the fridge. “I know you mean well, but it’s hard when you’ve got an active bounty on your head.”

“Things will get better.” He’s not a beacon of positivity in the slightest, but she’s too good to be feeling this bad, so he has to say something.

“Things can get better.”

“What?”

“It’s not guaranteed. Not for me, at least. Probability’s never worked out in my favor,” she smiles weakly, unscrewing the cap to the water and sipping it politely.

“You’ve got a team making sure things will get better, sweetheart. No matter what.”

“You’re all here by force, though. After you leave, I’m still gonna be stuck here, and –”

She waves her free hand, the other one gripping the damp water bottle.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I’ll be less of a mess in the morning.”

“Not all of us,” he says, delayed, but hoping she gets it.

“Not all of us what?”

“Are here by force.”

She grips the bottle harder, the plastic crackling. She knows what he means now.

“That’s… uh, good to know,” she murmurs, a smile tugging at her features. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t do anything to warrant a thanks.”

She rolls her eyes, sitting back down at the table. “You’re gonna have to get used to my manners, Mason.”

“Never,” he smirks, leaning over the table, over the soup, running his thumb over her bottom lip before standing.

“You don’t like it because you don’t have any.”

He snorts, a hearty laugh ripping out of his vocal cords and echoing off the tile flooring. “Damn right.”

She smiles, too, this time though with her whole body. It’s dim in the kitchen, but she’s shining nonetheless.

The smell’s grown on him a little bit. The shit honestly reeks, but he doesn’t mind it.

He follows her when she makes her way to the cabinets underneath the countertops, retrieving a big glass bowl.

When she bends down, he tentatively steps behind her, leaving a hair’s width space between them. He’s hesitating to touch her, even as she glances back at him reassuringly and closes the gap between his stomach and her back.

The hum that leaves her this time as he hooks a lazy arm around her waist sounds just like the one she let out when she tasted the soup.

She gently guides his hands to grip the edges of the bowl while she pulls the pot closer.

“So what’s this shit called?” He asks, crinkling his nose as she ladles it in, grimacing when some splashes his hand.

He knows he’s there for something, but he can’t quite remember what for when she licks the stray drops from his thumb.

“Caldo de pollo,” she smiles, snapping the plastic top until it’s airtight, guiding him to the fridge.

He knows “pollo” is Spanish from the times Felix watched kids shows to pick up on English. (He could never quite shake the looping sound byte of Felix’s southern drawl saying “poy-yo” when he discovered Dora the Explorer.)

“You gotta make it for Nate sometime,” he suggests, wrapping his other arm around her waist when she closes the fridge door.

She turns in his grasp, splaying her hands on his bare chest, dragging her thumbs over the tuft of hair in the middle of it.

“Thank you, really,” she whispers, eyes trained on her moving hands. “I mean it.”

He’s shit at accepting thanks with words, so instead he kisses her. He fights the urge to deepen it, to open his mouth to taste her.

She’s not ready to let him in like that just yet. He thinks it’s enough that she’s letting him touch her at least.

The lingering taste of chicken is disgusting, but he’s enduring it, because Sofía’s humming like he’s the best thing she’s tasted in years.

[homesteadchronicles]

Original Writing Excerpt: “To Me”

Hello, my homies! I have an unexpected piece of writing to share with you all today, one not related to my known WIPs. Instead, this comes from the world I detailed here, one I’ve now been given permission to flesh out into a full-fledged story.

You don’t need to know the world in order to read, but I’ve provided the necessary context below in order to dive on in!

CHARACTERS:

Ero “Del’Gris” Idess: An intergalactic music idol in service to her agent, Kiladian Wellthane, who enlists her help in exposing his enemies’ corruption. Yoselle of the Starsea (”Ghost”): Ero’s bodyguard and long-time employee of Kiladian Wellthane whose unspoken feelings for Ero grieve him.

CONTEXT:

Ero and Yoselle have been dispatched by Kiladian to the Polaris Nightclub in order to secure information on the corrupt CEO of a pharmaceutical empire. When Ero botches her mission, she seeks comfort from a source both she and her target know can only lead to complications.

THE EXCERPT:

You are a specter: ethereal, immaterial, insignificant. She is a spotlight: illuminating, enticing, unyielding. These two halves cannot hold one another. These pieces fit different puzzles. But she needs something to elucidate and you did not hallucinate her invitation to centerstage. Still you skirt around the sidelines, flirting with shadows, fearful of exposure. She stands, a beacon in the clubhouse, awaiting your answer.

You refuse to reply.

Polaris, you convince yourself, requires better surveillance than the shoddy bodyguards provide it. Expensive liquor, lavish decor, and a distinct lack of security – the omen of emergencies. It was everything you loathed and Ero loved.

She didn’t seem to mind now, not that she ever had before. Why would she? She has you. Needs you. Wants you, a part of you thinks, hopes, refutes. Ero plays her role without shame. Flattery reserved a permanent space in her mouth and her lips make use of their eternal inhabitant to elicit information even when her hips were in motion.

Your place lies elsewhere. Astride. Afar. Procurer and protector both had their parts to play. Separately.

Then why does she keep staring at me?

It is your fifth circuit around the dance floor when you notice her attraction attention. Her gaze ought to be on your target, on Gentarou Hongou, on the mastermind of a corrupt pharmaceutical company. Her hand would bat his chest as her lashes bat her cheeks and he would indulge her as everyone always did. Their mission depended on his entanglement. Did she expect to seduce him with a half-given gaze?

Either Ero or Gentarou comes to the same conclusion, as she discreetly excuses herself to evacuate the floor and he does not even bother watching as she goes. You give chase, coming to a heel behind her as she reaches the dancing’s edge. Stress tugs her brows together. She has disappointed her target. Disappointed herself. Worse, you realize, she has disappointed Kiladian.

“You’re off your game,” you note. A comment and a question intermingle therein, indiscernible.

Ero maneuvers through the crowd with angered grace. Each foot falls just shy of stepping on another’s toes, the click of her heels on the metal beneath like a tongue snapping against bared teeth. “Hongou’s harder than I thought,” she mumbles, “and not in the way I need him to be.”

The bar comes quickly into focus as you follow her. It’s going to be a long night.

Ero glides into the shaky comfort of a barstool. Before you can intercept, she has the bartender concocting something with a name you won’t remember for a price you cannot fathom. Ero’s erratic when inebriated and adamant when infuriated – not a winning combo for their cause.

She beckons you over with a caress of the empty seat beside her and you stiffen. Your place is beneath behind her. But, for a moment, weariness cracks her mask and the lonely soul inside creeps out. “Ghost,” she drawls. Her fingers walk up your chestplate, eyes unblinking in unspoken expectation, and you will indulge her as you always have. “To me.”

The seat is filled before you can stop yourself.

Two drinks slide along the countertop and stop in front of them, one a glittering gray encrusted with crystal and the other a dusty yellow clouded by rising mist. Ero cradles the latter before acknowledging the former. “Oops. Looks like I ordered one too many.” Her tone holds no remorse, only mischief. She nudges the glass towards you. “Guess someone ought to keep me sober.”

You can’t deny that. Deny her. You drink.

Each sip is a burning kiss to your lips, searing all the way down until the sweetness kicks in thereafter. It’s easier to forget the sting when the aftertaste settles in. You swallow again. Again. Again, until you learn to love the flames, too.

Ero only toys with her order. It’s not her usual selection, not her Nightfire. The glass in front of her holds Del’Gris’ favorite - all flash and fruitiness - but no bite. Which means she believes the show must go on. Which means Del’Gris gets an encore.

You need to navigate this delicately. “Hongou gave you the slip?”

“He may as well have. Kiladian’s information was off – Hongou’s not involved.”

“You’re sure?”

Ero dips her head as if to nod before it droops in defeat. “Honestly? I don’t know. Making heads or tails of the man is more complicated than making eyes at him.” She retrieves the cherry inside her drink and rips it clean off the stem. “I’m not myself tonight.”

“That’s not true.” The words slip out before you can subdue them. An unfortunate error, but Ero appraises you with wide-eyed surprise and you wonder whether it was a blessing in disguise. “You were not Del’Gris tonight, true. Del’Gris holds every man captive in her grasp. But you were Ero tonight – and any glimpse behind the curtain is enough to fluster a lesser man like Hongou.”

Ero twists your words around in her mind like the stem she knots in her mouth. When she pulls the stem free, her answer spills out too. “You know me too well.”

Not as much as I’d like, you think. Still not enough to keep you safe. It is an unbidden - but honest - admission. Not one Ero would adhere to half-plastered and wholly penitent. You settle for “well enough to know when you’re not well.”

She scoffs into her cup, a bitter laugh against sweet liquor. “Can’t get any worse”. Ero raises her hand and requests another round of liquid courage: Nighfire on the rocks. It’s a slow burn, she told you once, reeking of booze and other bodies, just the way I like it.

You hadn’t liked it. Hadn’t liked the way her hair ensnared your shoulders, encircling you in her scent as you scraped her offstage. Hadn’t liked the lingering kindling of body heat. Hadn’t liked how much you dreamt of her touch afterwards.

The bartender brings her his poison and she tips it back in one go. Tipsy, but standing, Ero advances towards the dance floor. “Well, if our mission’s botched, must as well bust a move.” Half-lidded eyes hone in on you. “Don’t make me do it alone.”

There’s a plea beneath that tease, but the implications complicate your reaction. To stay would be wise. To go would be wine, a gradual inebriation, a delight today and a mistake tomorrow. A slow burn.

Noticing your hesitance, knowing your heart’s a mess, she approaches. “I’m not the only one unwell,” Ero whispers. Her tender denouncement strangles your judgment. “But we both have to choose health.”

She steps away. The crowd begins to swallow her, enclosing on all sides. Ero extends her hand to you. “Ghost,” she calls out. Her fingers curl inwards, a gambler clutching their stake. “To me.”

Your hand finds hers before you can stop yourself.

Polaris’ patrons shove you deeper into the throng of hedonism. Writhing bodies surround you on all sides, ushering you and Ero closer, closer, closer along to the beat of a song. You can’t make it out – not over the beat of your heart. 

But Ero can. She leans into you, giggles sending shockwaves against your skin, and it’s then you realize: the woman on the soundtrack is Del’Gris, but the one in your arms is Ero.

In my arms. The thought locks into place before you can register that your arms are, in fact, around her. Mechanically? Yes. Uncomfortably? Undoubtedly. Neither of you seem to mind, if the way she slides her hands around your neck and nuzzles into its crook is any evidence. 

Then again, you always were the problem. After all, what right have you to hold her after haunting her for so long?

“You’re overthinking it,” Ero says. You’re not the only one who knows the other too well. “Maybe I ought to take the lead.”

You both laugh at that, at yourselves, at everything that your twisted lives have led to because if you don’t laugh, you might both break. Then again, at least you’d crumble into one another.

Ero only leans back and leads on. Your hands keep her feet aloft, her back aligned. This imperfect rhythm, this imbalancing act, leaves you both in synchronized breathlessness.

Neon lights illuminate your mingling skin in a patchwork of discordant colors. They rise to wreath Ero in a heathen’s halo: green envy, violet ire, scarlet lust. The crowd around exalts her alias - “Del’Gris! Del’Gris! Del’Gris” - but Ero has only ever worshipped you.

Always the star, you muse, and I am but the planet trapped in orbit.

“They’re calling for their queen,” you tease.

“They’re calling for Del’Gris,” she clarifies, “but I believe someone requested Ero.”

“You must have heard a ghost.”

Whatever impish inclinations Ero might otherwise maintain were exorcised in an instant. Seriousness seats itself in place of playfulness, mouth thin and eyes taut. Her hand rises to graze his cheek. “Ghost you may be to everyone else, but you’re always Yoselle to me.”

You have been brutalized by mobsters, held for ransom by hitmen, and crushed by an atmospheric crucible more times than you can count, but nothing has ever taken hold of your heart half as hard as that. “I never mind playing the specter if it means shadowing you.” And it’s true. You would spend the rest of your days in obscurity if it meant skirting around her radiance.

But Ero has never been one to settle for second best.

“Oh, is that so?” That ruinous mischief reclaims her lilting smile as she presses herself inward, upward. “In that case,” she whispers and her breath is a phantom promise against your lips. “Ghost, to me.”

Your mouth finds hers before you can stop yourself.