#cross-functional alignment

[radiantresume]

🐢 The Turtle Diagram in IATF 16949: More Than a Drawing—It’s Process Intelligence

🔍 What is a Turtle Diagram? A Turtle Diagram is a visual tool used in process-based thinking, required under IATF 16949 and ISO 9001. It’s designed to help understand, control, and improve a process by analyzing: Inputs & outputs Responsibilities (who) Methods (how) Resources (with what) Performance (KPIs) Risks It’s called a “turtle” because the layout resembles a turtle shell, with the…

[carlhofelina]

Small but Smart: Integrating AI into Small Businesses’ Marketing Operations

Running a small business often means wearing many hats, and marketing can feel like a constant uphill battle. But what if there was a way to amplify your efforts, understand your customers like never before, and ultimately drive real growth without breaking the bank? The answer, increasingly, lies in the intelligent integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) into your marketing operations – a game-changer that's leveling the playing field.

Key Advantages You Need To Know In Integrating AI With Marketing

Proactively Support Your Customers: Imagine being able to anticipate what your customers need before they even ask. AI empowers you to analyze their journeys and predict potential pain points, allowing you to offer proactive support with timely content, offers, or assistance. This builds stronger relationships and keeps them coming back.

Unlock Powerful Insights Through Data Readiness: You're likely sitting on a wealth of data. AI can be your key to unlocking its potential, transforming raw information into actionable intelligence. This ensures data readiness so you can make informed decisions across all your marketing efforts, leading to more targeted and effective campaigns.

Foster Teamwork with Cross-Functional Visibility: Break down silos within your business. AI provides a unified view of customer data and campaign performance, enabling a more cross-functional approach between your marketing, sales, and customer service teams. This shared understanding leads to smoother strategies and a better experience for your customers.

Personalize Experiences That Resonate: Stop sending generic messages. AI allows you to hyper-personalize your marketing based on individual customer preferences and behaviors. This level of tailored interaction drives engagement and boosts your conversion rates without requiring a massive manual effort from you.

Reclaim Your Time by Automating Tasks: Free yourself from repetitive marketing tasks. AI-powered tools can handle social media posting, email marketing, and lead nurturing, giving you and your team valuable time back to focus on the bigger picture and creative ideas.

Optimize Your Campaigns for Maximum Impact: Make every marketing dollar count. AI algorithms continuously analyze how your campaigns are performing, identifying what's working and automatically adjusting things to improve your return on investment.

Target Your Audience with Precision: Go beyond broad demographics. AI can identify more specific customer segments based on a wider range of data, allowing you to craft messages that truly speak to their needs and increase their effectiveness.

Elevate Your Content Strategy: AI can be your content assistant, suggesting topics, optimizing your existing content for search engines, and even curating relevant information to share, saving you time and boosting your content's reach.

Gain a Real Competitive Edge: Compete with the big players. AI provides you with sophisticated marketing capabilities that were once out of reach for small businesses, allowing you to stand out in the marketplace.

Make Confident, Data-Driven Decisions: Say goodbye to guesswork. AI equips you with the analytical power to base your marketing decisions on solid data insights, leading to more predictable and successful outcomes for your business.

AI Integration Makes Your Small Business Grow Even More!

Think about it – integrating AI into your small business marketing can feel like adding another complex layer, but it acts as a super-efficient, data-loving assistant working tirelessly to fuel your growth. 

AI provides a deeper understanding of your customers by analyzing their online behavior and purchase history, offering insightful information to tailor your marketing messages effectively. Furthermore, it delivers a significant efficiency boost by automating repetitive tasks like social media scheduling and data organization, freeing up your valuable time for strategic initiatives and stronger customer connections.

Start Your Growth Now!

An effective utilization of AI also requires a good person handling it. So, what are you waiting for? Get in touch with us by visiting our website to learn more about AI integration and how our virtual specialists can turn your vision into reality.

References:

https://m.facebook.com/leocountyclare/photos/artificial-intelligence-for-small-businessvenueonlinedate07052025time930am-1230p/984544027160769/

https://www.beautiful.ai/blog/how-ai-is-changing-in-2025-and-what-it-means-for-your-team

https://martech.org/topic/marketing-management/

© 2025 Best Virtual Specialist. All rights reserved.

[technologyequality]

AI and Business Strategy: The Secret to Sustainable, Scalable Success

AI and Business Strategy The Secret to Sustainable, Scalable Success Scaling is one thing. Sustaining it? That’s the real challenge. If you’ve been following this series, you know we’ve talked about AI-driven leadership, customer experience, and innovation—all crucial pieces of the puzzle. But today, we’re tackling something even more foundational: how AI transforms business strategy…

[astra-ravana]

Sigil Magick: Illustrating Your Intent

Sigils are a cornerstone of contemporary and chaos magick and function as keys to unlock the doors of reality and bend it to one’s will. These potent symbols serve as physical embodiments of one’s intentions, cast into existence through the fusion of art and willpower.

The crafting of a sigil begins with a clear and focused intention, which is then worked into a unique symbol through a creative magickal process. The magick practitioner inscribes deep personal meaning and style into their designs, making each unique to its artist. Sigils are ideal tools for manifesting your desires, imbuing objects with specific purpose and energy, protecting spaces, and communicating with the spirit world and should be used responsibly.

Origins

The practice of crafting sigils traces its roots to the ancient world but was modernized in the early 20th century by the works of Austin Osman Spare, an occultist and artist. He introduced the method of creating magical symbols by condensing letters of a desire into an abstract design. Aleister Crowley, too, influenced the practice by intertwining sigils with ceremonial magick, embedding them with a rich esoteric significance.

Some occult grimoires employ sigils as a means of contacting spirits, for example; Ars Goetia, The Book of Oberon, and Pseudomonarchia Daemonum.

Basics of Sigil Magick

Sigil magick emerges from the belief in one’s ability to manifest their focus into reality. Through a process of creation, a sigil becomes much more than mere ink on paper—it is the illustrated essence of desire. Individuals can use sigils as focal points for their will, empowering these symbols through meditation or ritual to enact change. The universe of sigils is vast and varied, types of sigils include:

• Pictorial Sigils: Intuitive symbols drawn from the subconscious

• Runic Sigils: Combinations of runic alphabets that resonate with specific energies

• Word Sigils: Derived from statements of intention, where letters are crafted into a unique symbol

Correspondences also serve a purpose in this class of magick, in order to help align one's intent to universal energies. As an artist crafts their sigil, they intertwine traditional symbols with personal significance, creating a bridge to the metaphysical world. Some relevant correspondences are:

• Numerology: Numbers carry vibrations that can enhance a sigil’s purpose.

• Zodiac Signs: Celestial influences infused to fine-tune the focus.

• Elements: The classic forces of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water lend their power to sigils, grounding them in natural harmony.

Sigil Creation

Before you take pen to paper, first envision your intent with clarity and purpose This may involve some deep introspection into the true nature of your desires. A precise intention lays the foundation for the sigil's power. Once ready, write out your intention and cross out any duplicate letters. From here a couple different methods can be utilized. Naturally you could always draw your sigils from pure instinct, creating spontaneous shapes to represent your intentions, but there are other techniques available.

The Wheel

This method employs a wheel to be used as a map for drawing your sigil. Simply start at the first letter of your intent and draw lines to each subsequent letter. Example:

My Method

I make my sigils by breaking up the letters to create shapes. I will often decorate with extra shapes, symbols, and pictures as well. Here is a simplified example of my sigil creation process:

Next you must charge your sigil. Charging is the act of infusing the sigil with energy. The creator might enter a meditative state, focusing intently on the sigil while envisioning their intentions intertwining with the design. This act of focused concentration serves to embed the intention within the sigil, making it a beacon for the desired change.

Passive and Active Sigils

Intentioned sigils fall into either the passive or active sigil category based on how that sigil's energy is best utilized. Passive sigils are usually drawn on the body, item, or surface and then left alone to release their power over time. Active sigils involve some action to trigger the release of the sigil's energy, such as burning, burying, soaking with water/oil, and more. Some sigils can be used both passively and actively, but most will fall into one category.

Spirit Sigils

Many spirits and deities have sigils that represent them and these can be powerful catalysts for interacting with these beings. If the spirit you're working with doesn't have a sigil made for them (or even if they do) you can design your own symbol to connect with that spirit. Follow the same process, but instead of focusing on your intent, focus on the spirit/deity and connecting with it. You can even perform a ritual and provide an offering to invite the spirit into your space. This will allow you to draw divine inspiration straight from the source. Here are some examples of spirit/deity sigils, as well as some I created:

[justrustandstardust]

i saw an incredible post on tiktok and i wanted to expand on it, because it's genuinely amazing. all the credit to @noesbf on tt for the idea that inspired these thoughts.

geto's character is threaded through with motifs of consumption. he takes things in, whether they be curses or daughters, and is spurred by intense empathy that ends up going in the "wrong" direction once he takes the entire jujutsu world under his wing.

when we're introduced to him in hidden inventory, our first glimpse is of him consuming a curse. he's also alone, in a dark alleyway, a symbolic image that parallels his journey throughout the story. he's a consumptive force, a facet of his being that ultimately leads to his undoing because he consumes the responsibility of "saving" the strong, who are burdened by the weak.

gojo, on the other hand, repels. he's an outward force, extending out a physical barrier that creates distance between his body and the world. where geto invites, gojo rejects. their abilities are constructed as diametrically opposed to one another's.

through the motif of gojo's abilities, this image captures their consume/repel dynamic in a singular shot. after riko's death, gojo leans into red, which repels. he focuses on growing stronger and in doing so, isolates himself from the world (and subsequently, geto). on the other hand, geto leans into blue, which aligns with the consumptive nature of his character. he harbours riko's death inside of himself and it festers, like a curse.

black holes are all-consuming vacuums. they subsume everything around them and create an inescapable vortex— once you're pulled in, you're never getting out. it will literally eat you and in doing so, makes you an everlasting part of it.

white holes, on the other hand, function in opposition to black ones along the same axis. where black holes pull, white holes push. nothing can enter them; they're doomed to a lonely eternity because of the force that holds the universe at a distance. nothing outside of it can affect what goes on within, yet it affects everything around it.

however, white holes can be subsumed by black holes. while nothing can enter them, if a white hole were to cross paths with a black hole, its consumptive force is so powerful that it would eat them too.

after geto and gojo experience a rapture in their relationship, gojo withdraws from the world, holding everyone at a literal and figurative distance. yet, even while he's alone, he's endlessly drawn towards geto. his eyes are bound but his soul isn't— it's tied to the piece of him inside of someone else, and gojo visibly feels the pull.

white/black holes also correspond to the colours associated with gojo and geto's characters (they align with their yin/yang dynamic, where yin (black) symbolizes darkness & the moon and yang (white) symbolizes light & the sun).

yin/yang are more than two halves; they form an indivisible whole. they become one another: light turns to dark, the moon replaces the sun in the sky, life transitions into death only to be born as life again.

if two celestial bodies exert oppositional forces upon each other, they function in equilibrium. geto's consumption was growing alongside gojo's repelling, reaching an event horizon when he took the lives of 112 villagers and forcing the two of them out of equilibrium. he continued to consume (curses, money, vulnerable people through his cult) until he died and took gojo's soul with him.

consumption can only exist if there's a repellant force pushing back. geto and gojo are not opposites, instead, they each contain the other— every yin has yang within it and vice versa.

they are borne of each other, they are unknowable without the other. they are more than matching; together, they are complete.

[windvexer]

Finding entrances to the otherworlds in order to engage in astral travel

(At this time I don't differentiate between astral travel and hedge crossing. I define astral travel as being undertaken in a trance state where some degree of awareness of your physical body is retained. This post contains UPG)

To travel to spirit worlds or otherworlds, you typically go through a door or a passage. Some sort of 'road trip' is often required. You can't just go through the door in the tree trunk; you have to go down the trunk, and through the other door, and down the path, and down the well, and through another door.

This isn't just head games. You are traveling somewhere. Sometimes these entryways are blocked and require sorcerous technique (or diplomacy) to traverse.

Doors are everywhere. They are affixed within physical times and physical places. Some doors open during certain times and are fixed shut during other times. Some doors will lead to one location for a while, and then suddenly lead elsewhere. A single path, known and familiar, can one day lead to a different location, or grow longer with more things in-between.

They are fairy roads and fairy doors, if you like. They do not operate by boring rules.

The following troubleshooting is based on the assumption that in order to travel to an otherworld, you've got to find a door that leads there. Therefore if you're struggling with travel, it may help to troubleshoot your door.

Guided meditations can be useful ("...you are standing before a tree with a door in the trunk"). We can imagine that we're being guided to build our own doors and roads, which of course people have the power to do - that's what laying a compass or calling the quarters is.

In any particular guided meditation, try it a few times just to make sure you've given yourself enough chances to build the road. For the purposes of troubleshooting, consider that you're literally build-discovering your own actual portals to otherworlds. This takes time and energy. You may be too tired to do it all at once, or it may be a bigger project than expected. This is why it's useful to keep re-using the same ones once you've built them. Between various meditations, try sticking with your same old tree, or hole in the ground, and so on. It's hard to make a blanket if you start a new one every time you sit down to work.

It can be remarkably helpful to align attempts at a guided meditation with times of power. Full moons do pretty well for this. Or, give it a try at midnight.

Other methods of creating and opening your own doors include drawing a door with chalk, knocking on it, and calling forth the path. A holey stone makes a fine door, just as a braid makes an excellent ladder to climb up or down. Many enchantments can be created which either function as doors, or which facilitate travel itself.

But remember the road trip - it's not just passing through a door. You also usually have to walk a little while. Therefore, also just walking a little while can get you there.

In a trance state, while your body is at rest, send your mind walking out of your room, to the vent over the stove, and climb up into the air ducts. Keep climbing up and try to find the exit. The exit might lead to the top of your domicile, but it certainly may not.

Alternatively, climb down the plumbing. Or, mentally walk yourself out of your house, to the nearest tree, and climb up it. Or down it, through a hole in its roots. Maybe an angry gopher is at the roots. Back away and try a different tree.

Perhaps your nearby environment won't do. That's alright, there are doors everywhere. Go and find one while you're out and about. To go downwards, find holes. To go upwards, find things that are tall. Suppose there's a water tower in your town. Go there and really take a good look at it. Dwell in the present moment with that water tower, as much as you can.

At home, in a trance state and while your body is at rest, remember going to the water tower. Relive exiting transit, going closer to the tower, and looking at it. Start remembering something new. Remember how you started climbing it. Climb and remember how you climbed this water tower to find a door that would lead you to an upperworld.

Is there a door at the top of the water tower? Well, maybe not. But there might be one along the way that you'll creep into if you keep your focus on finding a door that takes you to where you want to go.

Always keep a very strong focus on finding a door that leads to your desired location. And I mean that you should know exactly where you're trying to end up at, don't insert "*desired location" as a wildcard.

They are fairy doors and fairy roads. A memory of a water tower from this morning will do. What about a memory from 30 years ago, from when you were a kid? That mountain you'll never forget at the place you'll never return to. That's fine. A good memory makes a fantastic porch for a door. Relive the memory. But when you get to the part when you looked at the mountain for the last time, don't turn away. Remember that you walked towards it. Remember that you started climbing up it.

Remember that you climbed up the mountain to find a door.

Spirit helpers can be of immense assistance in all manner of travel, including finding doors, the "road trip," navigating the otherworlds, and safely returning. I don't mean to pray to your ancestors for guidance. I mean to engage an individual spirit helper to literally walk in front of you, show you the way, and even carry you.

Just now I drew a sigil on a piece of paper. I did energy work to charge the sigil, which represents a door. I placed the paper on a tray on the rug, and knocked on it. Then I went to lie down in bed. I practiced progressive relaxation to facilitate trance. When I felt relaxed and fuzzy, I chose to remember drawing the sigil, putting it on a tray, and knocking.

I remembered that when I knocked on the paper, there was a scratch at my door. I had opened the door and my spirit helper was there. I turned around - I remember it clearly - and the paper wasn't normal paper any more. The sigil was a doorway, it appeared like magic. My spirit helper reminded me to become small, so I did and sat on xer back.

Xe walked through the portal, and we both change sizes. I sit on xer back as we pass through a dark hallway, then a natural cave, and then the cave opens into something I'm about to see for the first time---

The bed is soft underneath me and it's dark in this room, and soon for the first time I will see what's on the other side of the cave.

.

If a guided meditation door doesn't work, make one using sorcerous techniques. If that doesn't work, find a natural amulet - like a holey stone. If that doesn't work, find one in the world around you. Try a few different ones. They really can be blocked, and that's got nothing to do with your skill. If that doesn't work, try traveling during special times. If that doesn't work, try engaging the help of a familiar spirit who is willing to teach you how to travel, and who will assist you while you travel.

Remember:

Know where you are trying to get to

Keep a strong focus on trying to get there

Most people are not able to leave their body fully behind

Your level of immersion depends on travel skill and trance skill

Seeing can feel low-resolution despite Knowing remaining strong. Do not discount valid travel experiences because your spirit eyes are weak.

Always strive to go back the way you came and return through the same door. Spirit helpers can carry you out if you get too tired or are about to fall asleep. Forgetting to do this isn't the end of the world.

Astral travel is distinct from daydreaming but those who struggle with maladaptive daydreaming may want to invest in building an infrastructure of discernment between the two activities

[rcmclachlan]

tease tidbit tuesday

I was tagged by @leashybebes and @beanarie. Thanks, y'all!

"Is this a bad time?" Tommy asks, voice low. "You're not, uh, on shift, are you?"  There was a time when Tommy knew Buck's schedule better than his own, mostly because they'd synced their Google calendars about three months in. It made scheduling date nights around their shifts easier; it took the guesswork out. Plus they had way too much fun giving the events dumb names, like Cross-Functional Alignment Strategy Session for a lunch date or Roundtable Performance Review on the days they went to the gym together. They'd once blocked a shared 48 off for a sex marathon and then nearly laughed themselves into traction when Tommy's teammate Nico asked how the Interdepartmental Alignment & Team Building Conference was. Nowadays Buck's schedule looks extremely boring without Tommy's neon green blocks filling it up, and the only events he has are his work shifts and reminders to pick up unsalted butter. "N-No, I'm home," Buck says, then glares at his oven. "I'm just… baking." "Oh yeah?" A soft hiss comes down over the line, and it takes Buck a second to recognize the sound of Tommy sucking air through his teeth. "What are you…?" "Chocolate croissants. Or, uh, I'm trying to. The butter's either too soft and it melts all over the oven or it's too hard and it just sort of sits in clumps. Making baked Alaska was easier than this. I-I've gone through stages of grief I didn't even know existed before tonight, and I'm coming to the conclusion that I might need to, like, sacrifice my KitchenAid to the baking gods for an assist." When Tommy laughs, the speaker crackles, and Buck holds his phone as tightly to his ear as he can so he can feel it deep inside the canal. It's loud. It hurts a little. "That's crazy talk," Tommy says breathlessly. "There's gotta be a perfectly good goat lying around for you to sacrifice instead. What about the lady in 291? You know she's got an entire barnyard menagerie in there." A grin erupts over Buck's face, so wide that the pull of it aches. "One of the maintenance guys knocked on her door when I was heading to work the other day. When she opened it, the biggest chicken I've ever seen came flying out. I thought the guy was going to shit." "I heard something mooing in there once." "You did not," Buck laughs, and then has the sudden urge to crawl into the oven and rip out the baking element tube with his bare hands.  It shouldn't be this easy. It should be stilted and awkward, and his hands should be sweating because every sentence is like pulling teeth, and every word out of his mouth should be a little absent because he's too focused on counting down the seconds until he's free of this.  But it is easy. It's effortless. It's like they're picking up right where they left off, and it wouldn't take anything to just pretend the last four months didn't happen and this conversation is what followed Tommy's dumb joke about spumoni. Maybe they can rewrite over the save point. Maybe they can just start the game over.

Tagging @liminalmemories21, @alchemistc, @firehose118, @geddyqueer, and @setmeatopthepyre

[softringing]

The thing that's so off putting about Sampo is that he's willing to go really far to make others happy, even at the cost of becoming a punching bag. But at the same time, he's been warning us about himself purposely, masked fools and the dangers of becoming too selfish when it comes to elation.

It's obvious he wouldnt harm ordinary people in a serious way but at the same time, we don't know if he's actual hiding evil intentions.

Remember that sampo has dead snake imagery in his design, and usually, snake imagery isn't used on moral characters, it's used on evil, morally grey or manipulative characters.

It's telling you not to trust people who hide things easily behind a disguise but at the same time, Sampo has a "line he won't cross".

He's so paradoxical that it's actually hard to tell what his motive is. I feel like he might have split personalities because of his mask's influence or just him as a very odd and mysterious character.

I went though the trashcan lore (I feel stupid) BC in his event, after you sell items it gives you these random texts and one of them has "Diagonese's Utopia" achievement that you get from searching belebogian trashcans.

I posted this on twitter and my theory revolved around the fact that Sampo's mentality may not be the same as a normal human's.

I always felt that his odd behaviour of acting like a "fool" was genuis. Because the best way to fool someone is to make them believe that YOU ARE the fool. They won't doubt you because in their eyes you're less intelligent or less complex than them.

But when I dug deeper, I realised that Sampo actually ENJOYS being hated. This is where my search through the Belebog trashcans apply.

(some of these are out of order sorry 😔)

I initially thought Sampo was Tatalov, the Garbage King because of Sparkle's portrayal of him in the dream bubble. And as you can see in the above images where there's a story of a trashcan being stabbed by someone they raised (Tatalov/Garbage King), you can link it back to the fact that Sampo MAY have betrayed someone he once loved. "The moment of betrayal" also closely aligns with this!!

"Wind of change" "snake", these elements are all mentioned in the above story of Tatalov stabbing someone--> sampo's wind is element, he has snake imagery!! Should be straight enough to say HE IS TATALOV RIGHT?

Now listen closely, in the DREAM BUBBLE, Shentana (aka Natasha) talked about how Tatalov was once a great ruler who cared about equality and justice (sampo behaviour) but was blinded by "the thing beyond the sky" (stelleron). => Now it's making a reference to cocolia rather than SAMPO. Which DOES NOT ALIGN WITH SAMPO BEING TATALOV/GARBAGE KING and hence the "backstabbing " story gets muddled and confusing.

My theory was that Sampo killed the person that made him (Seppo Illmarinen) according to the Kalevala story, after he realised that no one truly LOVED him for who he is, but rather only his ability to bring wealth and fortune. Hence, he felt vengeful, and decided to kill Illmarinen as a revenge because of how others saw him as an object (maybe including Illmarinen too). But in that story, it's mentioned Tatalov said "you will collapse beside me" to the dying trashcan (Seppo).

That's when I went back and looked at "Garboski" (Koski) from Sparkle's dream bubble. Garboski mentions that Tatalov betrayed them, and sealed them for 10,000 years. Garboski also mentions that he will reward the people who found them with WEALTH (sampo's function in Kalevala) and then he decided to eventually give anyone who found them a painless death. You can clearly see over time that Garboski's mentality went lose. I tried to link Garboski's story of being sealed for 10k years to Tatalov's betrayal but it said 15 years since the dying trashcan hadn't seen their face. That's when everything got far too confusing for me to comprehend and link together but the only thing I was able to TAKE from these stories is that they are both about BETRAYAL.

The consumable above depicts a colorless rose. You can only see it's reds in the reflection on the dagger. Which led me to think-> Sampo's eidolon "the deeper the love the stronger the hate" might refer to the fact that he despises being loved by others because he had lost trust a long time ago from the events that happened to him, how he was betrayed by the people he thought loved him but turned out to be just to use him for their convenience and selfish desires.

Remember that red roses represent passionate love and that Firefly mentions Sampo looks like he'd been training to use daggers all his life. So the symbolism of that consumable might be that Sampo trusts people's hatred more than their love because when you hate something, the hatred is (mostly) sincere. Why would you pretend to hate something you love? Sampo ENJOYS this sincerity.

He hates love because you can always hide things behind it under selfish pretense. Why else would that consumable reflect a red rose 🌹 ONLY on the dagger and not the rest of it? Because as soon as Sampo was betrayed/betrayed someone, it became clear to him/them that their true emotions towards him are HATRED not love. And SAMPO LIKES THAT!! HE LIKES BEING THE FOOL, HE LIKES BEING DESPISED BECAUSE YOU CAN'T DECEIVE HIM AND HURT HIM WITH LOVE.

He uses roses to decorate his packages in the event, also his suitcase and he uses roses to attack in HI3.

He hates love because the more someone loves him the further he will doubt them.

And that's pretty MESSES UP! To have a mentality like this means he you must've gone through some messed up crap, just like how he mentions at the end of his event that he had a "Hot-blooded past". If you didn't know, "hot blooded" usually means feeling complex emotions all at once, like anger, love, hatred, doubt, pain.

The description of the consumable sounds so warm in the begging and suddenly shifts to a tense mood? Did you notice that? It's so paradoxical. So hot-blooded. And it says "that person" so speficially!!

I'm still not sure what to believe about sampo's past, but I'm sure that his idea of love is completely messed up. In HI3, as you fight him during his boss battle, there's a bar called "depth of love", which is UHH WHAT THE HECK?? IT TELLS YOUTHE MORE YOU HURT HIM THE MORE HE LOVES YOU.

In his beta lines that were removed Sampo says something along the lines "Sampo gives all the affection yet never receives anything in return *sigh* but I'm used to it anyway 😃👍"

Ummm?? OKK?? IM SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE HE IS SANE? HE IS MENTALLY STABLE AND UR TYPYCAL CONMAN? NO WAY IM NOT!!

I hope this theory makes sense. I just need everyone to know this man has some screws lose but I love him anyway!

[kitkatorin]

RAAAAAA FIRST PART OF THE TARN FIC IS DONE

I think I'll post it in about 3 parts. Full thing will be on AO3 at some point. Just hoping I can get these random ideas I have into a cohesive storyline.

Also I hope I wrote the Cybertronian reader bit ok ;;;; never really done it in a published work before

「ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ」

ᴛᴀʀɴ x ᴄʏʙᴇʀᴛʀᴏɴɪᴀɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Part 1/?

Word Count: 2.8k

SFW (for now 👀)

Cybertronian GN Reader, Decepticon aligned

CW: Violence, mentions of death, torture, coercion/subjugation, mind control if you squint, Tarn monologuing

---

A lot can happen in a couple million years, especially when it's primarily occupied by war. Some things you can recall as if they happened in the last cycle, others were filtered out by your central processor as trivial information that wasn't even worth the effort of digging back up. Sure, you may not have always operated impeccably to all of the Decepticon ideals to the nanobyte in all that span of time, but you at least considered yourself generally loyal to the cause since Declaration Day.

So Primus only knows how you ended up on The List. Well, Primus and the Decepticon Justice Division, of course.

The lonely outpost you were surviving out of with your ragtag group of fellow 'Cons was overrun first with sheer panic at the sight of the Peaceful Tyranny on the short range scanners. There was no talk of fighting back, no negotiating. Maybe running, hiding, or escaping if that was even possible. But those desperate prospects quickly dissipated when the ruthless enforcers were first sighted treading down the halls.

You were forced to experience the horrors you only heard as hushed rumors. You watched your comrades - one by one - slashed, gutted, and mutilated in unimaginable fashions. How many did Megatron's posse victimize to learn just how far they can go with their creative, tortuous theatrics? One was savagely stripped of their plating and kept conscious enough to witness the evisceration of their own inner components. Another had their servos shredded like junkyard scrap in the bladed chest cavity of the one called Tesarus. One was left to convulse in agony as their faceplate was gouged by the deathmask belonging to another named Vos. The last was incinerated in a furnace interred in Helex's torso, leaving barely a pile of smelted slag in their memory.

The sheer intensity of the experience skewed your chronosense, confusing moments for eternities watching your friends suffer until their sparks were eventually extinguished and what little was left of their bodies littered the room. By some obscure methodology or maybe a cruel twist of fate, you were the last one to remain barely functional, though you didn't expect that to last much longer. You laid with your faceplate pressed against the cool floor while searing electrical burns pervaded your frame. Somewhere in your peripherals, heavy pedes treaded around you in a slow, calculated pace. Your systems were long since exhausted to even bother identifying the source, but they eventually crossed into view.

"Such a pitiful state you find yourself in." It was Tarn who spoke as he stood over you. You figured this was his personalized monologue to you before your own demise, as even your spark seemed to shudder within its chamber just at the sound of his slate-smooth voice. "Self-preservation is such a capricious thing. It is undeniable, of course, that we possess the innate drive to mitigate any threats to our life. But what place does it serve in the struggle of morality? One may think that fleeing to fight another day grants the future prospect of redemption, that they can somehow still prove themselves valuable to the cause in another way." Tarn paced meditatively before stopping directly in front of you. He took a moment to scan your weakened frame through malicious crimson optics.

"When we align ourselves with the Decepticon cause, do we not commit our usefulness to Megatron's will? We aim to put our faith in his decrees without fallacy, for doing so ensures that our service in life or our sacrifice in honorable death in a defining moment of loyalty furthers the Decepticon creed."

Your spark increasingly resonated to a precarious frequency as he spoke; panic quickly flooded over you, but your body could do little to rectify it. Tarn clasped his servos behind his back and languidly approached you, taking in the fear that permeated your electromagnetic field.

"You would let existential fears override your determination to serve a cause greater than yourself. Your undirected retreat - your cowardly act of self-preservation - was a foolish exhibition of defiance. And look where that defiance brought you now. True, it may have provided you the opportunity to fight again under the Decepticon name. But since then, could you claim that your spark was truly devoted to the cause if you were able to selfishly defy those direct orders?"

Your spark now felt like it was on the verge of combustion. What started as a buzzing hum grew to a deafening ringing in your audials. It burned so viciously in your thoraxal cavity that you wished you could rip your spark out from its own casing. Through all of the brutal torture for however long it lasted, your final undoing would seem to come through Tarn's vicious sermon.

Through the warnings of imminent termination that crowded your visual displays, you saw Tarn stoop on one knee in front of you. The Decepticon insignia mask that he sported was mere centihics from your faceplate, and the glaring optics that peered from within locked with your faltering gaze. He paused with an unsettling silence, perhaps deciding what words he would use to finalize your execution. He had your dwindling spark within his clutches, and at any moment, he could decide to snuff it out. Throughout all these cycles and everything you experienced within them, you never envisioned your end would be a slow and excruciating torture at the hands of someone who wore the same symbol you had proudly branded on your chassis as their face. Regardless, your fate felt sealed as your spark seized with a terminal finality from Tarn's influence, like his digits were closing its grasp on your very life force.

"Though... perhaps your efforts of self preservation has afforded you a second chance at proving your usefulness." Clawed digits delicately grazed beneath your mandibular plate before clasping the sides your chin and angling your helm just enough to force what little focus you had left to conjure solely on him. "After all, redefining one's function beyond their perceived form is a cornerstone to the foundation of all that we fight for."

The noose on your life eased, though it still loomed over you with Tarn's intimidating presence. He removed his hand from where he was holding your faceplate, letting your helm fall back to the floor.

"Immobilize this miscreant and prep them for transport." Tarn stood up to his full height as he issued the command. He cast his gaze down to you and the pathetic state he left you in at his pedes before turning and walking away without another word.

It didn't take long for you to come to the regrettable conclusion that termination might have been better than whatever new plans Tarn now had in store for you. But those thoughts were quickly cut short as cackles of electricity erupted around you and almost instantly followed by overwhelming energy burning through circuits. The image of Tarn striding away was the last thing you saw before your overcharged systems went dark.

---

Indistinct monophonic noise first filtered through your audial feed before gradually recalibrating to stereo fields. What was first nondesrcipt noise was actually a mixture of the lulling hum of running engines and... music? Yes, it was some kind of vaguely recognizable music that was playing, but your processing power was more focused on rebooting your systems than identifying the melody.

As the sounds droned on, your internal visual display became more organized, and external spectrums sharpened to a coherent view. You were on the floor of a fairly lit room, appearing to be an office or personal quarters judging by the furnishings that were immediately visible. There was a moderately sized desk directly ahead of you, and while your optics continued to adjust from the reset, you were slowly able to identify neat stacks of data pad volumes and other memorabilia.

There were several badges of varying sizes - mostly Decepticon, but you saw a few red Autobot insignias in some places - and trophies of a more personal design. Empty sockets of a cranial chamber perched on the edge of the desk met your gaze, and when you recognized what was staring back at you, you jolted in shock. Your awakening tactile sensors alerted you to unexpected resistance - your servos were restrained in front of you by inhibitors.

"Ah, you're back online." The sound of that hauntingly familiar voice sent a wave of dread through your reawakening circuits. Before that, you could have tried to convince yourself that this was all a terrible nightmare, but the undeniable reality was that you were still functional and helplessly bound in Tarn's presence.

"I was beginning to think that Kaon went a little overboard with the voltage." Tarn sat behind the desk, data pad in one hand as he casually propped his helm with the other. Dull pain washed over you as you tried to readjust yourself to see him better. His optics rose from the slate's contents to watch you struggle.

"I had a chance to go through your personnel file, and I must say, you have quite the record." Tarn placed the pad upon one of the orderly stacks and then pushed it slightly by its side to align it near perfectly among the others. His demeanor was ominously relaxed as he had apparently waited patiently for you to reactivate. "If not for a few instances of poor judgment, you would have made an exemplary Decepticon among your ranks."

You didn't want this overly casual conversation with someone who had brought you to death's door. It just further puzzled you as to why he would even keep you alive. The question of "why" and the need to know what he had planned for you formed in your processor, but only distorted static, barely recognizable as any comprehensible words, came stumbling out as you tried to speak them. You still forced yourself to talk despite the initial embarrassment, thinking the lingering malfunction would clear up so you could eventually voice your concerned confusion. Tarn observed your pitiful attempts with an unwavering stare, almost seeming amused by your efforts.

"What's wrong, little dissident? Glitches in your vocalizer?" He chuckled as he leisurely rose from his chair. "It should pass in time, though I do hope you realize that nothing you could possibly say can change your current circumstances." He passively let his digits glide along the desk's surface as he moved before you.

"You should feel honored - as your old companions lay as little more than rusting piles of scrap in a crumbling outpost, you were allowed to remain functional for just a bit longer." With a fluent sweep of his arm, Tarn gestured to the rest of the room you had yet to visualize. "And to be among relics of our celebrated legacy despite your tainted reputation... truly an act of undeserved clemency."

Your stiff actuators were slow to respond, but you managed to turn your head to observe the other sides of the room. Various campaign banners lined one wall, some in pristine condition, others tattered and torn from use on the front lines. You recognized most, but a handful were unknown to you. Beneath them, requisitioned weapons and tools - some still attached to the severed limbs of their previous owners - were displayed on pedestals and in glass cases. Your optics tentatively gazed over the rest of the room that was adorned like a disturbing museum. Even whole lifeless frames were suspended on the walls like any other decorative piece. All the while, soft, decietfully soothing music continued to play in the background. It served as an apathetic attempt at counteracting the horrors you saw, only to further compound your growing unease. It was somewhat of a relief when Tarn resumed so that your attention was drawn away from the morbid furnishings, but that was extremely short-lived.

"Do not think that you are pardoned. You were specifically ordered to hold the line in that critical operation, but you choosing instead to retreat out of fear cost precious time and energy thay could have been focused elsewhere. Your transgression is inexcusable."

He passed in front of you and stood before a large window to your left. The cold, dark expanse of space was displayed beyond, but the glass reflected Tarn's form within it. Though his gaze was directed outward, the angle of the reflection made it seem like he never lost sight of you.

"But I saw fit to reinculcate your understanding of the Decepticon ideology prior to your exacting your sentence." Tarn turned his helm toward you so that his gaze pierced you from the side of his optics. "After all, it does no good if a sinner does not truly understand the gravity of the sin for which they are punished."

Tarn moved away from the window and paced back toward his desk, passing in front of you again. "The ruthlessness that the Decepticons have become known for is ultimately rooted in a focal aspiration - achieving progressive change through decisive action." He stopped for a moment, pedes fixed in place with an upright, dignified posture that gave the impression that he was directing a philosophical discussion among academy students instead of sociopathically preaching a doctrine to an audience of one.

"Think of how society would have been without Megatron's revolution - stagnant, oppressive, self-destructive. Without his call for change, a call for action, we would be suffocating ourselves in a broken system."

As he continued, you were helplessly inclined to listen. But instead of filling you with the fear that your spark would be extinguished in a mere moment, a numbing daze washed over you that made your lingering anxieties virtually irrelevant. It was like being infused with a sedative prior to an operation, except that your life was not in the hands of a trusted medical professional - you could be subjected to untold machinations of Tarn's design. You were powerless to do anything, and as he carried on in a tone that seemed to effortlessly harmonize with the persisting music, the less you cared.

"Megatron's influence has called many to the cause over the millennia, resonating with those who felt dissatisfied and victimized by blatant injustice." Tarn shifted his optics to the stack of data pads again. "So many individuals, rallied behind the ambition of one..." He let the thought fade with silence, then his gaze suddenly snapped back to you, his frame following as he turned to face you directly.

"I'm willing to think that despite your grevious shortcomings, you still have the capacity to understand loyalty and obedience."

Tarn began moving towards you in an unhurried pace, and you instinctively stiffened like cornered prey as he drew closer.

"Your traitorous legacy could have ended along with your compatriots. But that would have been too fleeting, a viable opportunity would have been wasted."

He lowered himself to kneel over you, as if he were studying you like some fascinating specimen. He was just above eye level as you timorously shrunk back from him in apprehension. Perhaps he was studying you - with those glaring crimson optics burning straight through you - maybe he was able to see the parts of you that weren't publicized in a service record. Maybe he could discern the secrets you thought were locked and hidden away. And as your dorsal plates pressed flush against the wall you shrunk back to, that overwhelming helplessness flooded your systems again. It felt like everything was laid bare for Tarn to exploit; no matter how much armor you had, you felt entirely stripped down to the point where he could see the cables and wires lacing through your protoform. With nowhere to retreat to, Tarn minimized what little space remained between the two of you, bringing his upper half so dangerously close that his subtle passive venting swept across your dermal receptors.

"I intend to impress upon you the very essence of servitude, so you will understand clearly just how gravely you've disgraced Lord Megatron." Tarn's voice couldn't have been louder than a hushed murmur, but it echoed within your own mind like a persistent thought, reverberating with an undeniable intensity that drowned out all other possible notions.

The words "obedience," "loyalty," and "servitude" in Tarn's entrancing voice ricocheted in your cortex to the point that you perceived nothing else beyond that. Or simply because the only other source of sound had automatically deactivated.

"Ah, it seems we've reached the end of the suite." Tarn just barely turned his face in the vague direction of his desk, referring to the now silenced device that was playing his choice musical pieces throughout his discourse.

"How timely." He returned his icy attention to you. "I was thinking it was about time to indulge in a different musical number."

---

Part 2

[psychhound]

ttrpgs in the classroom (part 8)

oh boy have i not made one of these posts in ,,, like a year. grad school is crazy yall. lmao. but. i wanted to share what we do for our analysis unit now that we've hit it this semester!!

other games used in the unit:

we are but worms & graves for funerals

the assignment:

write an essay of approximately 1000 words doing a literary analysis of some aspect of a game, first forming an inquiry question, then looking in the text for evidence, then coming up with an argument about a deeper meaning of the text. the second draft of the assignment can either be an expanded essay, or a multimodal piece of the student's choosing. (the other option for this essay is to do a rhetorical analysis of an argumentative text about gaming)

the games:

[ID: a powerpoint slide titled choose your fighter game (the word fighter is crossed out, so it reads choose your game). it shows five ttrpg titles, with a short description of each, and an icon to represent them. the background is a light orange sky and green grass in a video game like art style. there is a fake game menu bar on the bottom. the games in the slide are functionally described below. end ID]

when we made war upon the slumbering woods by richard kelly @sprintingowl

a collaborate journey into the magical woods ... to destroy it

the treasure at the end of this dungeon is an escape from this dungeon and we will never escape from this dungeon by riverhouse games @riverhousegames

a lyric game about a never-ending dungeon and those stuck there

kenzie's project by sasha winter @stargazersasha

a Weird Academia horror game for three players

i love you, alive girl by anna anthropy

a 1-page game about writing love letters under surveillance

drifters by gila rpgs

a Weird West game of gunslingers and their guns

past semesters game options:

a dragon game by chris bissette cozy town by rae nedjadi @temporalhiccup

the process:

in the powerpoint introducing the games, i have a more thorough description of each one, and then three examples of inquiry questions that they could use as jumping off points to do their analysis on. the inquiry questions ask things like, what moral stance might this game align itself with, what other stories is this game in dialogue with and to what effect, what does this game have to say about the current state of our society? the students can use these inquiry questions or not, theyre only meant to be examples

the results:

this is definitely the most challenging project for my students, but i think that challenge is good for them! i've had really mixed results, with the most common issue i run into just being surface level analysis. they are, however, 18 and have never done anything like this before (for the vast majority of my students) so a lot of my feedback is just pushing them further and trying to get them to say something interesting. i really love a dragon game and cozy town, but i found they didnt have enough context of ttrpgs and dnd/pf to really Get why a dragon game was interesting, so i replaced it with escape from this dungeon since thats got some more meat for them like voicey rules and characters. and im a big fan of nedjadi's games and wanted to give my students something more cute and fun, but they struggled to find much to read into or say about it that wasnt very surface level. escape from this dungeon and ilu, alive girl are new games this semester so we will see how those go over!!

[starry-eyer]

Ned’s ill fated time as hand of the king was a really interesting exploration of how little even a highest lord’s wishes can end up mattering within the nightmare that is Westerosi feudalism. Ned became first among equals in the vipers nest that is King’s Landing—lacking the normal power he possessed at Winterfell—and later found himself a victim of the never ending politicking and machinations that ended up being the death of him. But I think the way he had to concede ground on his own morals in favor of what he considered the bigger picture perfectly encapsulated one of George’s central theses on rulership: ruling is hard.

On that note, this is why Ned’s decision to warn Cersei stands out as one of the most defining moments of his character. By this point, Ned had already conceded much—forced to compromise his values in order to function within the royal court—but this was his bottom line, one that he refused to cross, and one that had been recently tested by Robert with his assassination attempt on Dany. Now, once again faced with the prospect of children being slaughtered, Ned made his choice.

It’s easy to call Ned foolish for this, but I don’t think that’s fair. Yes, it was a poor political move, but it was also a calculated risk—one he believed he could afford to take at the time. And more importantly, it was a risk he was willing to take. Not wanting children to die and taking risks for that cause is always worthwhile, and the narrative constantly reaffirms this.

This is why I’m so fond of Ned, because he doesn’t buy into the nihilistic version of the Game. And frankly, Ned didn’t fail because he told Cersei. The real reason for his failure is much simpler—it’s because he bet on the wrong player: Robert.

Robert failed Ned from the beginning by putting Ned in such a situation. This quote exemplifies how Ned’s personal connection to Robert, which later turned into political and social alignment, led to Ned being forced to go against personal values:

Ned wanted no part in what he considered folly, yet his name was stamped on it regardless. Even in opposition, he was complicit. Janos Slynt’s casual “call it what you will” throwaway line underscored a brutal truth: Ned’s personal opinions on the matter were irrelevant. To the rest of the realm, that was his tourney, his responsibility.

This was a pattern throughout Ned’s time as Hand—he was trapped in a grey where his presence marked him as complicit in decisions he opposed. To be clear, I don’t think he lacked agency here as leaving would have always been an option, but for Ned, it was never a real option. Not when Ned needed to find out the truth of Jon Arryn’s death. Not when Robert, his friend, still sat on the throne despite how poor of a king he had become.

Though this begs the question: if Robert wasn’t so irresponsible, then would Ned have lost his head? At the end of the day that’s where Ned truly fails, he should have heeded the many warning signs and should not have connected himself so utterly to Robert.

On the topic of character’s failures, I really like how Ned resurfaces in Dany’s chapters. Dany serves as the perspective from the other side of the aftermath of the rebellion, meaning she’s only been privy to Ned’s worst side. So it makes sense that these two storylines converse with each other around themes of guilt and accountability, because that’s what their narrative relationship is defined by: Ned’s guilt over the aftermath of the rebellion and the life Dany’s lived in response to said rebellion.

A crucial question Dany asks is: does Ned bear responsibility for the deaths of Dany’s family? But that leads to an even more difficult question:

Is Dany responsible for Hazzea’s?

The answer is complicated. Neither Ned nor Dany directly caused these deaths, yet both acknowledged a degree of responsibility. However, accountability =\= punishment lol (I think people often conflate these two separate concepts together).

Both Ned and Dany came to understand that ruling meant bearing responsibility for unintended consequences. Just as Dany grapples with Hazzea’s death and her role in it, Ned carried the weight of the past, questioning his own role in the fall of House Targaryen and Robert’s reign.

And Dany, like Ned, experienced the confines of rulership, but unlike Ned, Dany didn’t commit the folly of killing her house’s sigil. Now she has the opportunity to do better after ridding herself of her floppy ears.

On a side note, (going back to Eddard vi), I also like how after Janos’s speech about the problems/deaths that had occurred in the wake of increased traffic in the city, most of the small council try to paint the tourney in a good light by speaking about the economic benefits. Economic gain outweighing the human cost to Those sorts of people is no surprise. Who really cares about the beheaded woman no one can identify? Well, most of the council clearly doesn’t. These tiny details contain so much good commentary :)

[shiani25]

The stories you write are amazing and I aspire to be as good a writer as you one day. Love you Shianis <3

It feels like the transformers never did anything with Starscream's scientific past. Mentioned not once, not twice, but thrice (G1, Aligned continuity novels, AND in Transformers Prime), may I request Starscream having that side of him resurface briefly, with Megatron indulging in him (Megatron only knowing he was a scientist, and not how deep his passion was?)?

Ohhh thank you so much, you are so kind. 🥰

Actually this motive is in some of my stories already. I can give you links to them if you want. 😊

I really like the idea that Starecream was a scientist. But now he usually just uses his knowledge to prepare new ways to assassinate Megatron xD

"Quarantine Madness"

Starscream was not handling quarantine well.

At first, he thought he could endure it. After all, he had been in tight situations before—both metaphorically and literally.

But this?

Being locked inside his own quarters, with no audience, no one to berate, and worst of all—nothing to do?

It was hell.

“This is ridiculous!” Starscream screeched, pacing back and forth. “I am perfectly functional! There is no need to confine me like some filthy Autobot prisoner!”

Knockout, safely behind the sealed doors, crossed his arms. “Oh, really? Because according to this,”—he waved his medical scanner—“your systems are running at dangerously unstable energy levels, and also your left optic is flickering like you are trying to send me a love message in Morse code.”

Starscream scoffed. “This is nothing! Besides maybe I'm trying to send you a message. About how incompetent as a medic you are! You cannot keep me in here!”

“Actually, I can,” Knockout said smugly. “Doctor’s orders.”

Starscream’s wings flared. “This is mutiny!”

Knockout smirked. “No, this is protocol. Enjoy your alone time.”

Starscream lunged at the door just as it slammed shut.

“KNOCKOUT, YOU TREACHEROUS—”

Starscream lay sprawled across his berth, optics dim.

He had paced so much he swore the floor panels were going to wear down.

He had yelled at the walls until his own echo started mocking him.

He had reorganized his collection of rare alloys twice.

And now… now the walls were closing in.

The high ceilings that once made his quarters feel spacious now felt oppressive. The walls seemed to be pressing inward, suffocating him.

He twitched. “I… I must escape.”

Then he heard it—the sound of the quarantine doors unlocking.

He shot up, optics blazing. “FREEDOM—”

Only to freeze as Megatron walked in.

Carrying something strange.

Starscream eyed the odd-looking alien device Megatron placed on his table. It was sleek, humming faintly with unknown energy, and covered in intricate symbols he didn’t recognize.

“What… is this?” he asked suspiciously.

Megatron crossed his arms. “Something to occupy your processor.”

Starscream blinked. “You brought me alien technology?”

“You tinker when you’re restless,” Megatron said, looking entirely too nonchalant. “If it stops you from clawing at the walls, then so be it.”

Starscream grimaced at being so predictable but then looked back at the device, wings perking up despite himself.

“…Well.” He scoffed. “I suppose I could examine it.”

Megatron smirked slightly. “Good.” Then he turned and walked out.

As soon as the door locked again, Starscream pounced on the device, optics gleaming with curiosity.

“Ohhh… what are you?”

Knockout wasn’t sure what was worse—Starscream complaining about being bored or Starscream quietly working on something.

Because the latter meant he was up to something.

When Megatron called Knockout for a status update, the medic decided to air his concerns.

“So… Lord Megatron.” Knockout cleared his throat. “You do realize that whatever Starscream figures out about that alien tech, he’s probably going to use in another attempt to kill you, right?”

Megatron, who had been sipping energon, barely glanced up. “Naturally.”

Knockout blinked. “And you’re okay with that?”

Megatron smirked. “As long as it keeps him occupied.”

Knockout stared. “So… you don’t care that he might be engineering your demise?”

Megatron shrugged. “He does that regularly. If I worried about it, I’d never get anything done around here.”

A long pause.

Then, from within Starscream’s quarantine room, came a manic burst of laughter.

Knockout looked toward the sound, then back at Megatron. “…You do hear that, right?”

Megatron took another sip of his energon. “Like I said—occupied.”

[girls-alias]

Tease - Robert Chase

Title: Tease - Robert Chase

Words: 1,567

Relations: Robert chase X Reader

TW: Sexual hinting. Sexualising hands. Sub reader.

Masterlist

I pushed the office door open with my butt, careful not to spill the coffees I had just collected. I spun around as I stepped into the office, My eyes instantly landing on Chase as he approached the door. I looked up at him startled by his presence. From his body language, it was clear he was going to open the door for me, I blushed slightly, knowing he had a clear view of my ass pushing the glass door open. I gulped, admiring his freshly trimmed hair, subtle green eyes and furrowed brows. I could read from his expression he was confused and had a hint of another emotion. In others, I would say it was an attraction but the sexy, blonde, handsome, angelic, Australian, smart, did I mention sexy, doctor... wouldn't think that of me. I'm me. Just average me.

I smiled innocently at Chase as he continued to stare at me. His expression showed less of his confusion and more of the other emotion I couldn't place but (somewhere deep inside, I knew it was attraction) (Or maybe wishful thinking) he displayed this emotion more until the confusion had fizzled from his expression.

"Are you going to stand there all day or give me my coffee," House barked grumpily. I shook myself out of it and walked around Chase to reach the table. I placed the drinks down, serving them out to each of the team to make sure everyone had the right drink. I walked around the table, placing Chase's drink in front of him before occupying the seat beside him. He smiled at me, I swooned a little but smiled back. An attempt to play it cool when he makes my spine jelly without trying.

House began the differential by writing on the board the patient's symptoms. I placed my drink on the table as I picked up the file, sitting back to read it. I added comments briefly to dismiss someone's idea if the current test results didn't align with their diagnosis. Finally, I looked up to gather who House's snarky comment was aimed at. Not me, good. As Chase was leaning forward, his elbows on the table, his hands in front of his face, playing with them slightly. I, of course, was now only able to focus on them.

I gulped, my mouth seeming wrong. My breath quickening. The butterflies in my stomach twirling. I crossed my legs, my wetness growing as I watched my crush's hands, the way they moved, the things I had dreams about them doing. I couldn't peel my eyes away even when he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then smirked when he looked away. His hands didn't stop moving and if anything, they seemed to do more, slow and precise movements. There could be an earthquake in the room and I still wouldn't be able to look away. He has hypnotised me. I watched almost breathlessly as he sat back in the seat and his hand slowly travelled to his thigh. Oh, God his thighs! I took a deep breath, gulping as I watched his hands.

His hands gripped his thigh tightly, and a soft whimper left my lips subconsciously. I tighten my lips into a thin line, the rest of the world coming into focus as I looked around, recognising that everyone had heard me and was confused. I almost lost all of my ability to function as Chase turned to smirk at me. He did it on purpose, he was messing with me. I was annoyed for half a second it took till I realised that he caught me checking him out, sexualising him and he not only knew but teased me. My eyes widened, avoiding Chase's gaze. My brain instantly went into hyperdrive to dismiss this realisation with the most likely factor being that he didn't know and was simply smirking to not laugh at your whimper.

"You must really want to run the labs," Foreman commented sarcastically. I almost applauded Foreman and shook his hand for giving me an easy excuse.

"Yeah, I just don't want to deal with parents right now," I chuckled, realising quickly I was unsure of the files I had read only minutes ago. They all looked a little more confused.

"Our patient is a 32-year-old, male," Cameron clarified but confusion clear in her tone.

"His parents brought him in, it's in his file," I lied. I don't know who brought him in, they could tell me he flew in on a UFO I would agree, I don't know what happened during the differential when Chase's hands were more appealing than the conversation. Foreman looked confused but understood as Cameron flicked through the file. I smiled, my poker face clearing me of questions.

"Foreman and Cameron, you're with the patient," House instructed and everyone stood. Oh, okay we're done. I stood from my seat, and collected my things, realising quickly I would be alone in the lab with Chase. My eyes widened as I grabbed my drink and headed out of the office, Chase held the door open for me, his smirk still gracing his lips. I nodded softly to be polite and began approaching the lab. I gulped as Chase walked beside me.

"I didn't know you whimpered," He teased, his smirk still present. I blushed but rolled my eyes forcing a convincing chuckle.

"I just really want lab work today," I shrugged trying to play it off. A part of me believes the delusion of him possibly not noticing me sexualising his hands. He smirked rushing to stop in front of me looking a little confused but smug.

"I can think of five reasons that's a lie," He smirked, raising his left hand for effect and flaunting the knowledge that he knew what he was doing. My expression faltered at the shocking revelation and realisation he truly was teasing me with his hands, and did for a fact know I was affected. He grinned, turning back to continue his way to the lab. I took a second to compose myself before following. I stopped just before the lab entrance to prepare myself before I was in a room alone with Chase for presumably hours.

I walked in to see Chase already using the computer to get started. He smiled as I walked in, not looking up from the screen. I cleared my throat before taking a seat at the opposite station. I got to work on running labs, reading the file closely to figure out what labs we needed, and Chase offering tests I should take while he did others, basically letting me know what to do. I'm glad one of us was paying attention.

We were working somewhat quietly as we focused on the tests. I was just looking through the microscope when he spoke abruptly.

"Have you always been attracted to hands or just mine?" He asked, I was so startled by his question. I felt called out, seen. I staggered over my thoughts slightly.

"What?" I asked finally, the only thing I could manage to say. Though my tone should have been confused it was more panicked. I looked up at him, watching as he smirked. I gulped, watching as he slowly walked around the station, edging closer to me, my crossed legs subconsciously squeezing tighter.

"What is it about my hands that flusters you?" He asked rhetorically. His tone was mischievous and menacing. His smirk returned. I watched with shallow breaths as his hand trailed along the marble tops. I gulp again to try and maintain some control of my body. My breath quickened the closer he got to me. My breath fluttered as he stood right in front of me. "Is it that they're attached to me or that you can imagine what I'd like to do with them?" He asked, his hand coming under my chin to raise it so I was looking up at him. I breathed in as he raised my chin but suddenly my breathing stopped as I made eye contact with him. My mind cleared. My only thought was that he was going to kiss me. Please, kiss me.

I watched as his eyes trailed to my lips before he smiled. His eyes were deep and dark, full of want. I gulped. "I'm taking you to dinner," He instructed, not a question but an explanation. I watched intently as he searched my expression, it was clear, he could read nothing. He seemed to wait for my response. I nodded softly, his fingers still present under my chin. He smiled with half his mouth. "Good," He added, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. I waited, his eyes once again travelling to his lips as he held my gaze on him. "Your results are in," He commented. My eyebrows furrowed before the timer went off. I jumped at the sudden beeping. Chase chuckled as he walked away to his station. I sighed slightly, hitting the timer off and composing myself. "We'll go straight from work, that shirt needs to be shown off," He added, watching me between the stations. I smiled nervously as I slowly processed the fact I wasn't imagining it like usual.

I looked at the results to distract myself. I groaned as I showed Chase the results. Positive. We quickly headed to the others to inform them.

Masterlist

[naebaetwsog]

○・Roommates & soulmates°・

Jihoon as your roommate

genre.fluff, mutual pining, roommate lifee, non-idol Jihoon

pairing.bff!college student!jihoon x fem!college student!reader

note. I got kinda like inspired by their recent tws club videos. I need a jihoo in my life, bye!!

You and Jihoon have been inseparable since childhood, always glued together like two chaotic puzzle pieces that somehow just fit. Naturally, when college came around, there was no question about it—you were going to live together. Your parents even encouraged it, knowing that you two function best as a pair.

Now, you share a cozy two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, complete with a small kitchen and a living room that is the heart of your home. It’s a space filled with laughter, dumb inside jokes, and a lot of Jihoon’s antics.

As expected, living with him is a rollercoaster.

Late-night deep talks, random dance battles at 2 a.m., convenience store runs, and intense study sessions where Jihoon distracts you more than he helps. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

To keep things smooth, you established a golden rule—every two days, you meet in the living room for a serious talk to make sure there are no unspoken conflicts. It’s surprisingly effective, considering Jihoon is a menace.

⸻

It’s 7 a.m., and you’re already regretting your life choices.

Your first mission of the day? Wake up Jihoon.

You walk into his room and sigh.

As always, he’s in some insane sleeping position—half his body hanging off the bed, one leg thrown onto the nightstand, and his blanket bunched up in a corner.

“Jihoon, wake up,” you say, shaking him lightly.

Nothing.

You shake him harder. “Jihoon, I swear to—”

Still nothing.

You roll your eyes, sigh, and head to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of cold water.

He brought this on himself.

With zero hesitation, you pour it on his feet.

“AHHHHHH—” Jihoon screams, flailing so dramatically that he rolls off the bed and onto the floor with a thump.

You cross your arms. “Are you awake now?”

He glares at you, still half-asleep. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, get up.”

This is how your mornings always start.

Once he’s finally up, the two of you head to the kitchen to make breakfast together—another apartment rule to make sure you eat before leaving. You cook while Jihoon sets the table (complaining the whole time), and then you both eat, barely awake but laughing over the fact that neither of you function well in the mornings.

After getting ready, you walk to campus together.

——

Your schedules don’t align perfectly. Today, Jihoon finishes at 5 p.m., but you have class until 6 p.m.

Instead of heading straight home, he stops by a nearby convenience store, grabbing both of your favorite snacks before waiting outside your building.

When you finally walk out, exhausted, he greets you with a grin.

“Bought you snacks,” he says, holding up a bag.

You blink. “Oh my god, I love you.”

He smirks. “Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

You roll your eyes but take his arm as you start walking home together.

After lounging around for a while, you both get hungry, so you decide to order takeout.

While waiting for the food, you make a bet—whoever takes longer in the shower has to clean up after dinner.

Jihoon is confident. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

You hum in amusement. “Sure, sure.”

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting at the table, already in your pajamas, and the food already there. When Jihoon finally walks out of the bathroom. His hair is still damp, and he sees you smirking.

“No way,” he mutters.

You nod, while scrolling on your phone. “You lost.”

Jihoon collapses onto the floor dramatically. “Life is so unfair. I’ve been betrayed. Backstabbed.”

“Shut up and eat.”

Grumbling, you guys start eating and then he starts tidying up, with you eventually giving in and helping because he’s too slow.

——

After everything, you finally get into bed, exhausted, ready to sleep.

Until—

THUMP.

A whole human being suddenly lands on top of you.

“Jihoon, WHAT THE—”

He throws his entire weight on you, ignoring your attempts to push him off.

You groan. “Get off me.”

“No.”

“Jihoon.”

“I’m recharging,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Just sleep.”

You sigh, realizing resistance is futile. “At least get under the blanket. It’s cold.”

Immediately, he wriggles under the blanket, grinning smugly. “Knew you cared.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And honestly? It kind of is.

——

Living together is easy because you’ve always been each other’s person.

Sometimes, there are stolen kisses—small, almost accidental. Flirty comments that neither of you take too seriously. You don’t need to define anything right now.

But there’s a silent promise.

“After we graduate,” Jihoon once said, “let’s just make it official.”

You laughed at the time. “What, you wanna get married or something?”

He had grinned. “Well, yeah. Duh.”

And somehow, you knew he wasn’t joking.

Until then, you’re content with this—your chaotic, comfortable, and undeniably special bond.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

A little snippet of "A Tattoo and the Bloodsucker Blues" Part 15

A.N.: I'll have this finished after I complete one more fic for another fandom by the end of this month if not sooner!

Celeste left the house early the day after bringing Gadreel home with her.

Curiosity got the better of her, so she pulled out her bicycle from the sewing room. Gadreel sat dormant in his statue-state in the far corner where she made space for him. She offered him a pile of blankets to make a pallet on the floor, but he only squatted on his haunches and she watched his skin harden into stone at the first light of dawn.

He looked just as terrifying as a hunk of rock as he did as a living breathing being. She tapped his shoulder to test the hardness of his transformation. A small bud looking like the tip of a twig sprouted from his wing-less shoulder. She shuddered to think she had a gargoyle as a roommate.

Heat rested around the crown of her locs and swept around her in lazy hot drafts as she rode to the church. She had to see for herself what became of the remains of Father Mbenga.

She dropped her foot on the sidewalk, halting her bike.

The church looked normal.

The roof was covered in a dark blue tarp with roofing materials stacked neatly. She stared at the doors, tempted to walk over and open them. No…it was better to pretend she knew nothing. There were no police, no caution tape to keep spectators away…nothing.  Perhaps Micah’s contacts cleaned up any evidence of vampires and gargoyle’s scuffling.

She spent the day pedaling around Jackson Square watching buskers, fortune tellers, jugglers, and random street performers entertain tourists. Celeste tried to mentally align her life with the new world she had to function in once more. She was going to be a mother. In order to save her child she had to kill Terry. An eight foot gargoyle told her a fantastical creation story that she believed. Regular humans enjoyed their day all around her not knowing that horrors surrounded them the moment the sun went down.

But she was safe.

She touched her stomach.

The baby kept her safe. Gadreel kept her safe, even with its injuries.

It? They?

The gargoyle technically wasn’t a male without gendered body parts that humans were used to. Calling him a him felt okay because it had a deep voice associated with masculinity to her ears.

“Alright Strawberry, your mother has to figure shit out,” she murmured.

A fifty-ish looking Black woman with fluffy, newly-dyed auburn hair shuffled a deck of tarot cards in front of a portable table and empty folding chair. A small whiteboard with red marking listed her prices and types of readings. What stood out to her was a Vodou veve drawn with orange chalk decorating the cement next to the table. It looked like two sideways crosses with upside down hearts and squiggly lines. Celeste recognized the same marking from the window of a little storefront on Rampart that sold oils, candles, and charms.

“You look like you need a quick reading, young lady,” the woman said.

 “I need more than a reading.”

“A consultation then?”

“I need to find someone.”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

The woman spread the five-inch high blue cards out in a half circle on her covered table.

“Not here, though. Can I make an appointment for later?” Celeste asked.

“Sure.”

The woman handed her a gold card.

Madame Patrice Varte.

“Thank you,” Celeste said.

She pushed her bike away and pocketed the card.

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[haydenigmatic]

Members of House Lavone 🦁

House Lavone. The very name resonates with the weight of centuries, a dynasty built upon the bedrock of shrewd commerce and formidable power. From their ancestral seat within the bustling city that stands as the realm's second heart, their influence stretches like the intricate threads of the famed Goudenvel silk they command. Their coffers, fed by the ceaseless bounty of their gold and silver mines and the steady flow through the vaults of the Eight Kingdoms' largest bank, are the envy of nobles and monarchs alike. And should diplomacy fail, the banners of House Lavone can call forth one of the most formidable armies in the realm. Theirs is a legacy etched in wealth and might, a testament to the enduring motto: "Worthy Deeds, Just Rewards."

The Duke of Peminster (Goudenvel) Lord Leander Lavone

FC: Jeremy Irons

Leaner is a shrewd and calculating politician, but with a genuine affection for his family. He is a master of diplomacy and intrigue, capable of wielding both charm and ruthlessness. He struggles to balance his loyalty to the crown with his responsibility to his house. He fears that might jeopardise his family's safety. He also is worried about the future of his heir, and if he has the skills to take over.

The Duchess, Lady Annelise Canbard

FC: Michelle Pfiffer

She's intelligent, compassionate, and fiercely protective of her children. She is a stabilising force in Leander's life, offering him counsel and emotional support. Came from a minor noble house, one that was heavily indebted to the Lavones. Her marriage to Leander was initially a way to settle those debts.

The Heir, Ser Damon Lavone

Damon grew up in the lap of luxury, surrounded by opulence and power. He was instilled with the belief that he was destined for greatness. He has always felt the pressure to live up to his father's reputation, leading to a constant need to prove himself. He has witnessed the fear that his father inspires, and mistaken fear for respect, leading to an over inflated ego. He is aware of the dark rumours surrounding his family's origins, and this both excites, and frightens him.

The Dutiful Child, Lady Odette Lavone

Lady Odette remains the epitome of beauty and grace, captivating the court. Her public image is carefully cultivated, and she is beloved by the populace for her perceived kindness. Her acts of kindness are driven by a sincere desire to alleviate suffering, and she often takes people at face value, believing their intentions are as pure as her own.

Commander Theron Lavone: The Steel Heart

Theron's loyalty to Leander is a complex mix. He respects Leander's strategic brilliance and acknowledges that Leander's control over the family's vast resources is essential for funding his military endeavours. There's also an element of fear; Theron has witnessed Leander's ruthlessness firsthand, not just in financial matters but in dealing with internal threats. He understands the consequences of crossing his elder brother. Ultimately, Theron sees their goals as aligned – the dominance of House Lavone – even if their methods differ. He believes a strong military, backed by Lavone gold, is the key to long-term power.

Lord Cassian Lavone: The Shadow Broker

While not holding a formal title beyond "Lord," Cassian effectively functions as the Master of Coin for House Lavone, overseeing the vast and intricate web of their financial holdings. However, his role extends beyond mere accounting. He is also the family's chief intelligence officer, using his network to gather information on rivals, anticipate market shifts, and uncover potential threats. He deals in secrets as much as he deals in gold, making him an indispensable, if shadowy, figure within the Lavone power structure.