#give or take a few cm/inches

[lovable-bastard]

so Merlin was most definitely malnourished before Camelot bc Ealdor definitely didn't have enough food for everyone. And one of the side affects of malnourishment in childhood is stunted growth. Merlin was one of those kids who was malnourished, but he is still taller then Arthur (not by a lot, but still taller). Arthur, who is a prince with more then enough food to help him grow. Even Gwaine's shorter than him (he's a noble, so it isn't malnutrition). It also can't be blamed on genetics, Hunith is quite short and Balinor is (I think) 6'0 something. Hell he's even taller/same height as many of the knights/guards we see!!!

So my question is, how tall would Merlin have been if he had the same resource's as Arthur, Leon or Gwaine??

[ssahotchnerr]

Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)

distractions

you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual

your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.

the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.

it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.

at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.

he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.

you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.

you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.

you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.

you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.

so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.

well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.

give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.

"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.

as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.

"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."

caught.

"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."

aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."

oh? "oh."

"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"

you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"

"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."

[mismatched-sockss]

Say something

» Summary: You and Emily have been seeing each other for a couple of months now -without anyone knowing -, but can't keep being her secret. » Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!BAU!Reader » Word count: 3,9k (omg, when??) » Warnings: angst, it's implied that reader is outed - Emily isn't, allusions to intercourse in the beginning, mentions of (internalized) homophobia, mentions of coming out (forced coming out is mentioned, one (1) small implication of conversion therapy like stuff (it's only talked about, no details or anything close)) and unsupportive family, mentions of Emily's mother probably not accepting her sexuality (like Rosa Diaz' mother/parents in Brooklyn 99, and a thing or two my own mother said), Emily is kind of mean ig?, cheating but not really?, cm typical stuff is mentioned (not detailed), kind of open but definitively more leaning to a sad ending; please let me know if i missed anything! » A/N: written for @imagining-in-the-margins' Pride Challenge, i used the “It’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.” dialogue prompt; also based on Say something I'm giving up on you by Sam Redden; tenses? i don't know her here; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

The euphoric bliss that had flooded over you just moments before, leaves your body with every passing second, and the more it wears out, the more the dreadful empty feeling that had slithered its way into your heart not too long ago takes its place. Your breathing is still going fast and your heart hasn't had enough time to slow down yet, when you narrow your eyes while looking at the ceiling. Why did you do this to yourself? Again. This couldn't go on like this.

"I can't do this any more."

You can hear Emily move next to you, turning her head to look at you. She is breathing fast and her warm breath hits your bare shoulder. "What do you mean?" She brushes a few stands of her hair back that had fallen over her eyes.

All of a sudden everything is getting too much. The sensation of sweat running down the back of your neck, the air Emily is exhaling and how it is hitting your skin, over all her presence next to you in the bed. Her bed. Naked.

With a scoff you sit up and bury you face in your hands before you slide them up, racking your fingers through your damp hair. "This. Us. I just- I can't go on like this, spending my nights with you and act as if I haven't touched every inch of your body the next day."

Today is not the first time you had said it out loud and talked about it with her, about wanting to be able to hold and kiss her around other people. It is not the first time you are thinking about this, about leaving because nothing changed event though she had promised and her reasons – excuses , really, at this point – had been valid in the beginning, but now, every time she comes up with a new one they sound more and more made up. Honestly, you can't remember the newest one to a full extent – it had been so absurd –, but it had something to do with her shoes. Like, come on, really? Shoes...?

For a short moment it is silent except for both your breathing. You wait, and when she doesn't say anything you get up to get dressed. Nothing more than your name leaves Emily's lips, and not louder than a whisper, as you walk around the room to pick up your clothes and put them back on. “What?” you say flatly, but you don't look at her. You close the button of your pants and look around the room for your second sock.

“It's good what we are having. I like it how it is.” She shuffles closer, crawling over to edge of the mattress. “And sneaking around is exciting, isn't it?”

You crouch down to pull the missing sock from under the bed and bite down on your lip as your heart clenched painfully. Sneaking around?

“Is that what this is to you? Just... Sneaking around? That's all it is, huh.” A dry laugh leaves your lips as you slip the sock over your foot and then turn to walk out of the room.

“Oh c'mon, Y/N. It's fun, isn't it?” – Fun?! So this was just fun for her? – “You and I, we... It's enough how it is, don't you think?”

With one step out of the bedroom, the other foot still inside, you look back over your shoulder. “All this hiding is enough for you?” You don't fully turn around, you don't want to face her and look into her eyes. Don't want Emily to see the tears that are starting to pool in your eyes or how much her words are breaking your heart.

“I'm not hiding”, she says, defending herself, totally ignoring what you really meant.

You shake your head and leave the room, picking up your bag from the couch in the living room as you walk past it. “You are. And I get it, you're not out and that's okay.” Emily gets up from the bed and quickly puts on a bathrobe before she follows you out, watching you collect your things and walking to the front door. “You shouldn't come out unless you are ready. But at least be honest with yourself-”

“I am. not. hiding”, she interrupts you, her voice sounds strained and as if she is speaking through gritted teeth. The soft pat pat of her bare feet on the floor stop just two meters behind you.

Something in you snaps. "Yeah well, you are hiding me and I'm sick of being your god damn dirty little secret! I love you for fucks sake!"

You freeze as soon as the words leave your mouth, in the middle of putting on your jacket, and for a moment neither of you says a word, the silence seems louder than anything else, louder than how loud you just yelled those words. It was the first time either of you had said those three words to the other and the timing could not be any worse.

"You... What?"

You shake your head, breaking out of your frozen state and bend down to put on your shoes next. "Forget it. I'm done." is what you say. We're done is what you mean.

You wish she would at least say something, but Emily stays silent and when you reach for the door and open it, she doesn't keep you from walking out. When you close the door behind you, she doesn't open it again to call out for you. And when you reach the stairs at the end of the hallway and take the first steps down, the door stays closed and she doesn't run after you.

She let you leave like it was nothing, like you were nothing. Like all the time you had spent together meant nothing to her. All those days and nights full of hushed voices whispering sweet nothings to each other, full of soft touches and even softer kisses. Emily let you walk out of her apartment, her life, as if you never meant anything to her, like the last six months indeed were nothing more than fun to her.

From the moment you step out of the door of Emily's apartment building, to the moment you walk in and close the door of your own, you feel numb and you operated solely on autopilot on your way home. If someone were to ask you what route you had taken home or if you missed a red light even, you wouldn't be able to tell them.

As if a it hasn't been enough for one night, you get called into work just 30 minutes later; the body of a young woman had been found, tortured and mutilated, and another young woman had been abducted only five miles from where the body was found.

When you arrive in the round table room you greet your team mates grimly and you are relieved that you got in before Emily. When she enters minutes later, you don't turn around, you don't say hello and you do your best to ignore her. The tension in the room is palpable and judging by the looks the others shoot between her and you, they know that something had happened between you two.

They didn't know that you were dating – hooking up? What ever the fuck it had been to her anyway –, but you didn't have to be a profiler or even know either of you personally to see that something was up. Hotch is kind enough to not team the two of you up, sending you to the disposal site with Rossi instead.

The days since you walked out of Emily's apartment turned into weeks. The days turned into weeks since you last talked, like really talked. You had kept your distance to her as much as you could, trying to sort out your feelings and trying to see if she would take a step in your direction, to see if she even cared at all.

But, slowly but surely you had to accept the fact, that everything pointed to her not caring about you. Every conversation with her was strictly professional, talking about the cases was the only time you spoke to each other. Not a day goes by when you don't wish she would say something more to you, something personal, something deeper. Something emotional. That she would say something that would keep you from giving up on her. But she never did.

You should have known from the start that this was how it would end, that the only outcome from getting involved with Emily would be that you would end up with a broken heart. Naivety couldn't even begin to describe why you had even wasted a single thought about having a future with her, a happy ending; with Emily, a woman who hasn't come out, a woman with a mother who would be more okay with her daughter being the side chick of some married man, maybe even multiple, than to accept her daughter to be in a relationship with another woman; a mother who says, that she “doesn't care who her daughter ends up with, as long as it isn't someone of the same gender”.

Ever since the night you broke up with Emily – if you could even call it a break up when you weren't even a couple, officially speaking – you cry yourself to sleep and your feelings are bouncing back and forth, scrambling your mind and heart in to a broken, confused mess.

On one side, you are drowning in the shattered pieces of your heart; the pain getting stronger every time you see Emily, the longing and yearning strangling you harder every time you are left alone in a room with her, the floor under your feet crumbling away stone by stone with every day that passes without her reaching out to you. You miss her, you miss her so fucking much, and way more than you would like to admit – even to yourself, which is kind of hypocritical, considering you had told Emily to “be honest to herself”.

On the other side, you are cursing yourself for unintentionally giving her an ultimatum of some sort; not only for going public about your relationship, but therefore also for her to come out, even if only to your team, your friends. It was far from your intentions to pressure Emily into anything she didn't want to do, into something that she wasn't ready for. You never set a time or anything like that, but the implication was there – intended or not – by wanting to go public.

It is scary; coming out... As a woman who loves women, a man who loves men or either loving both. It doesn't matter if you come out as transgender, non-binary or gender-fluid, asexual or aromantic, or … or. ... or ... It doesn't matter who you are or what you feel or who you love: it is hard and scary either way and you never know how the person in front of you will react, even if you think you know.

Coming out to people, to friends, who you trust and know on a deeper level – even when you already for a hundred percent are sure that they will accept you no matter what – is hard enough. Coming out to your family is another kind of scary uncertainty: hoping they will still love you, that they will accept and support you; the fear of them turning their backs on you, cutting you out of their lives and on top of all this, hoping that if this was the case, that this was all they would do, hoping it would stay the lesser kind of evil and that they wouldn't go to any extreme measures to try and “fix” you. It was already hard enough to come out planned and willingly at your own pace. But having to do it for what ever reason? Unimaginable. Cruel.

On more than one evening you dialled Emily's number, your thumb hovering over the green button and ready to press down. Ready to apologize for how you had reacted and what you had said, for pressuring her. Maybe even apologizing for telling her that you loved her –

Wait. What?

Yes, maybe you should swallow your pride and call her first and ask her to talk; but apologizing for your feelings? No, you were done with shoving your feelings down and taking what you could get and stay in a one-sided relationship – letting the person use and play with you while they were stringing you along. For them to give you a slither of requited affection whenever they could feel you slip away, depending on your soft heart and that you would stay in hopes they will requite your feelings, your love, someday. No, you were done slowly dying for unrequited love.

The ball is in her court and it is on her to throw it back or to keep it.

Being around Emily has gotten unbearable these last six weeks. You had never felt like this before, never felt like this for anyone else until you had met her. It was all overwhelming and too much, but not enough at the same time, the feelings overpowering you in the best and worst kind of ways; pushing and pulling at your heart, slowly tearing it apart but also glueing it back together in a wild storm of emotions. You felt like you were just starting to learn how to love, but also knowing exactly how to do it – how to love her, in the right way and with everything you had; heart, body and soul.

But it doesn't seem like your love is enough; enough to save what ever you and Emily had been having, to find your way back into each others arms.

The last straw, the rotten cherry on top, was on a night out with the team to celebrate a successful case at a bar near the FBI building and you walked in on Emily making out with someone else in a dark corner near the restrooms. It was too dark for you to fully see the other person. And for a second you aren't sure what would hurt you more: if she was making out with a man, or with a woman.

You get your answer rather quickly, when Emily sees you and pushes the person away. They stumble back a step or two and then turn their head to follow Emily's gaze. And... it's a woman.

There are no words to describe how you are feeling as the realisation sinks in; leaving you cold and numb. How could you have been so stupid? It had never been about her. Not about the hurtful and homophobic things her mother always says to her, not about her outing, not about her feelings. It had nothing to do with not being ready to come out and go public about your relationship. It had to do with going public about being with you. The problem, her problem, is and always has been you.

Is she really embarrassed about you, about being with you? That's a new one... You wonder if she ever even liked you in the first place.

It feels like an eternity before either of you move again, after just looking at each other.

“W- what are you doing here?” Emily mutters and you see her wince when she realises how stupid that question was.

You scoff and narrow your eyes at her. “Looking for the exit”, you answer her, deadpan, before turning on your heels and walking back to the table where you and your team were sitting to get your things. You don't answer any of their worried questions about what was wrong, you just down the rest of your drink and grab your purse. You get your wallet out and throw a couple of bills on the table to pay for your part of the tab before you walk out of the bar without another word.

You make your way to the office right after you walked out. Last week, you had gotten the offer to transfer back to the IRT again; well, unofficially offered actually. You had only been on Hotch's team for four years; before then, you had worked under Jack Garrett for quiet some time. Occasionally, maybe twice a year, you travelled with them for consultations. So when Matt Simmons goes on paternity leave in a couple of days, you are the first person Garrett asks to come back for the time being and you were happy to do so. Garrett had called you and as you spoke you joked about feeling hurt that he only wanted to keep you for one month. And even though he was joking too when he said he'd be happy to have you back permanently, you knew he meant it.

Just last week you hadn't been sure if you wanted to stay with your current team or go back. The stack of forms that were needed to request a permanent transfer were already sitting in a drawer of your desk, all filled out. The fact that you had filled them out right after the call ended should have told you then, that you already had made up your mind.

When you reach the sixth floor, you hear the ding of the elevator softly echo through the empty halls. You make a beeline to your desk in the bull pen and fish your keys out of your purse to unlock the drawer. Just when you took out the envelope with all the forms and reach down to close the drawer again, you hear the soft ding again, followed by the sound of the doors sliding open.

Your back is turned to the doors so you don't know who walks out of the elevator; you guess it had to be someone on their way to the crime lab or something.

Until you hear your name that is, and you immediately freeze. How the fuck did she know you would be here?

You turn around and see Emily standing in the bull pen, but keeping a distance to you. “Can we talk?” She slowly walks closer and her gaze falls on the envelope. “What are you doing?”

You press the tip of your tongue to your cheek and take a second before you answer. “Paper work.”

“Paper work?”

“Yes.” You pick up your keys and start to walk towards Hotch's office. You don't want to hear what she has to say.

She says your name again and grips your arm to stop you from walking away. “It's not what you think.”

You laugh at the cliche reaction. Of course it's not what you think. It never is, isn't it?

“Okay, what is it then? Tell me”, you challenge her as you turn to look at her, your tone cold and the corners of you lips are twitching to form a bitter smile, “Go on, tell me. Because it seems pretty obvious to me.”

You twist your arm out of her grip and before she even has time to say something, you bite out: “You know what? We're not even together, I don't care what you do and who you do it with. Fuck who ever you want for all I care. Start with your- who ever she is.”

“I don't want to talk about her.”

“Oh, you don't? Too bad. What else is there to talk about then?”

For a moment she opens and closes her mouth, ending her answer before she even spoke it out loud. “I-. I want to talk about u- about you and me.”

When you don't react she nods her head, like she is confirming that you had hear right and that it was indeed what she wanted.

“Really? Now, you suddenly want to talk to me, about us?” She nods again, her eyes wide and she is giving you the best pleading puppy dog eyes she can do.

“No.”

For a moment she is taken aback and she blinks a couple of times. “No?”

You take a step back and cross your arms over your chest. “No. I don't want to talk. The only reason you want to talk, now, is because I saw you. It's too late. You had six weeks to talk, but you didn't. You're too late. I would have followed you anywhere, you know. Wherever you would want me to go. I would have followed you to the end of the fucking world and would even walk farther, falling over the edge into the abyss. I would walk through fire for you and I'd do it with a smile.”

You couldn't stop yourself from spilling it all out; and just like you can't stop the tears that started to run down your face, you can't stop talking. “You're it for me, you are the one I love. And it’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.” You sniffle and bite down on your lip. “You are the one. And if I am not to you, and you don't love me back that's fine but then at least have the balls to fucking tell me, instead of making up excuses why you don't want to tell anybody that we are seeing each other.”

She had put on a mask while you were talking, hiding her true emotions. Yet again, you wait for her to say something. And yet again all you are met with, is silence.

“Say something...”, you say, almost begging. “Just... Say something...”

Nothing. Emily stays silent and just looks at you, a vacant and unreadable expression on her face and in her eyes. The small part in you that is still wishing upon a star and is hoping, that she would come through, waited for her to talk. But it is no use. She stays silent, like all the other times in these last weeks. So much for her wanting to talk.

“Figures”, you scoff, a bitter smile stretching on your lips, and you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I should have given up on you way before I even kissed you”, you say under your breath. You aren't sure if she heard you, but in all honesty, you don't care.

Without wasting another second you turn around and walk up to Hotch's office. You place the envelope with the filled out forms for your immediate transfer in the middle of your Unit Chief's – well, ex Unit Chief's– desk. His signature being the last thing you needed before you could file the request.

You walk out of his office, not sparing even one last look at Emily, who hasn't moved. A few steps after you passed her you stop for a moment to say something for a last time, before you cross the rest of the bull pen and walk out through the glass door; leaving the BAU behind. Leaving her behind.

Two small words, nothing more..

“Goodbye Emily.”

» A/N 2: i really hope i did this justice, especially the (not) coming out parts, tbh i don't think i myself ever really came out, like 'officially', but i have always been open about being bisexual (no idea if my parents ever really connected the dots, but we're no contact either way for different reasons, so what ever) so i'm not sure how well i portrayed it; ...

🌈 Always remember, no matter if you are in the closet or not: you are worthy, you are loved and you are perfect the way you are! Stay safe. 🖤🤎🤍❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[canisalbus]

How tall would Mechete and Vasco be if they were ordinary dogs?

About 70 cm or 28 inches at withers, give or take.

On paper Vasco might be a few fingerbreadths shorter because his shoulders don't slant the same way as Machete's, but he has more muscle and width so he's heavier. They're both medium-large hounds, they would've originally been bred for hunting.

[ashensgrotto]

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 1)

Characters: AzulAshengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 (You are Here) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author's Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui 's annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don't write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will had links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

Cruel and cold like winds on the seas

Will you ever return to me

Hear my voice sing with the tide

My love will never die

Over waves and deep in the blue

I will give up my heart for you

***

If someone were to tell you that you’d eventually be pulled into the wrong end of the sea by, not one but three, unknown sea creatures - you’d probably laugh your head off, thinking they’ve lost their mind.

But how wrong you’d be.

When you had initially applied to work at Twisted Wonders - an emporium of oddities that were collected and studied by the greatest minds in existence - you thought you’d be taking an everyday desk job; answering phone calls, scheduling tours, directing visitors… that sort of thing. 

Never in your right mind would you believe that you would be working alongside the Dire Crowley - director and owner of Twisted Wonders. Mr. Crowley was an acclaimed renowned genius with an air that was both mysterious and alluring. He was approximately 170 cm in height (five feet, seven inches) and wore rich tailored clothing made of silks and leather with gold embroidery and jewels embedded into the vest and belt; of course, he upped his strange allure by consistently wearing a heavy leather overcoat that hung to his frame, decorated in black feathers - real or faux, no one was sure, a top hat that perched on his head, and a mask of black that reminded you of a crow - his arched nose hidden under the long rim of the mask that poked out like a beak. 

“Here’s the deal, (Y/N),” Mr. Crowley spoke, reclining back in his desk chair as a pair of golden eyes peered out from behind the mask, “We’ve recently acquired three creatures that need to be observed. My team, however, has been unsuccessful at getting remotely close to studying them. They seem to think that an outsider might have a higher success rate at being able to approach them more than any of us will due to their knowing who we are.”

“So, what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

“I want you to observe them,” Mr. Crowley spoke, pushing a contract towards you, “You will work with my group of scientists for about three months as well as the three creatures. You are to notate anything and everything you see the trio doing - how they eat, sleep, react with each other, and so forth - and document everything for our records, no matter how insignificant it is. If you prove your worth and competence within those three months, you will be moved to another position within the facility of your choosing.”

“And that’s it? That’s all I need to do?”

“That’s it.”

‘Seems pretty easy for a payment of twenty dollars an hour…’ you thought as you looked down at the contract before, “And this is my… compliance, right?”

“That would be correct, as well as a safety and confidentiality agreement,” Mr. Crowley answered, offering a pen in your direction.

You took the instrument and wrote your name across the bottom of the page on the dotted line.

“Alright,” Dire Crowley took the contract and stood, pressing a buzzer on his desk, “with everything in order, I’ll have Grimsley take you to meet Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein - the overseers of our aquatic project.”

“I’m sorry, did you say aquatic?” your eyes widened in surprise.

“Dear me, did I forget to mention that part?” Mr. Crowley tapped his chin, his glowing eyes looking up toward the ceiling before returning to rest on your features, “Our newest arrivals are of the oceanic nature - I’ve never met or seen them myself, however Professor Crewel and Professor Trein will be able to go over the basics with you and introduce you to the trio in question.”

“As long as they don’ forget the good stuff!” a snarky voice spoke from behind.

You turned in your chair toward the door to see the man who must’ve been Grimsley.

He was about 163 cm in height with pale skin and dark gray hair with tufts of flame blue poking out in random directions. His eyes also were flame blue and held mischief in their depths that matched the smirk on his face as a set of sharp teeth peered out from behind thin lips. He wore a suit of black with a vest that matched his hair, a black and white-striped tie, and a white dress shirt. Leather loafers padded softly against the carpeted flooring of Crowley's office as he held out a black leather gloved hand in greeting.

"Grimsley Overblot," the man smiled like a Cheshire cat, "I'm Mr. Crowley's henchman and errand runner here at Twisted Wonders."

"(Y/N) (L/N)," you answer, taking Grimsley's hand with a shake, "pleasure to meet you."

“Grimsley, go ahead and take (Y/N) to see the good professors,” Dire Crowley spoke, a satisfied smile on his features, “I’m sure the two are more than ecstatic to meet her.”

***

As it turns out, both men were ecstatic to meet you - though Professor Trein was a bit more reserved about it versus his partner.

Trein's appearance matched his personality - his posture indicated a "no nonsense" aura as did his unchanging features. His lips would quirk into a small smile before they would fall to a straight line as his dark eyes settled on your uneasy form, as if he enjoyed watching you squirm like a germ under the microscope. He was dressed as any scientist would; a heavy white lab coat that fell to his knees hung around his frame that covered a white dress shirt and charcoal-colored dress pants and loafers. His hair was gray with streaks of white and wrinkles covered every inch of his face and neck.  He also wore a set of white pristine gloves and had a cravat around his neck with a singular emerald gem that held the cloth together.

As for his partner, Professor Crewel was a bit more… eccentric. Crewel had a sort of energy about him that reminded you of a young dog - not a puppy, but not an adult either. He was always cocking a smile that bore teeth, chuckling when he patted the top of your head as he called you "puppy." His clothing matched his laidback ideals too - a heavy black and white fur coat with a red silk lining covered the charcoal gray dress shirt and pants. His vest was black on one side, white on the other, and wore a red tie that matched the gloves on his hands.

“So,” Crewel spoke after introductions, pulling a cigarette out of his pants pocket and lighting the object, “any questions before we get you set up?”

“I guess my big question is what exactly will I be working with?” you ask.

“We believe the trio to be mers, but they’re not your typical ones,” Trein explained with a sniff as his features twisted at the smell of Crewel’s smoke,  “All three of them have the upper bodies of men, but lower halfs of sea creatures. Two of the three half the lower half of what we believe to be that of a moray eel and the third the lower half of an octopus. The twins are typically more curious of the three, though they can be aggressive. Several of our closest colleagues were attacked by the duo after accidentally disturbing them - their bites have left scars and one of our colleagues actually lost their leg from their attack.”

“... and you don’t think I will?” you had to question, the comment coming out high-pitched.

“Well, moray eels - specifically - will attack only if they have been disturbed,” Crewel answered nonchalantly, “We believe there are similarities between the animals and the mers, which is why we are gathering as much information as we can. We want to know what the similarities and differences are between moray eels and the twins.”

“Okay, but I still don’t see how I won’t get attacked by those two. And what about the third?”

“You won’t be attacked as long as you stay still and don’t make any sudden movements,” Trein answered, “Once they get used to you, you’ll know.”

“As for the third,” Crewel answered, “he’s a cecaelia - half man, half octopus.”

You blink, “Don’t moray eels eat octopi?”

“Typically, yes,” Trein answered, “which is strange, in this case. The trio were originally found off the coast in the Coral Sea - living in harmony with each other. When we brought them here, the moray mers have consistently been surrounding the grotto that is in the enclosure - the cecaelia hiding within and rarely comes out. We think that the cecaelia may have raised the morays, but we’re not completely sure.”

“And it’s been a devil of a time trying to get a glimpse of him too,” Crewel shook his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling.

“You mean you haven’t seen him? Not once?”

“I saw him when he was first brought into the enclosure,” Trein sighed, “however, it was dark and I couldn’t see him very well - the eels could be seen because of the bioluminescence that exists within their bodies, allowing us to see their figures.”

“Speaking of which, come,” Crewel rested a hand to the small of your back, “let’s get you acquainted with our aquatic trio, hm?”

Crewel and Trein led you to the opposite end of their laboratory where a large glass wall stood with a set of double doors that led to what appeared to be the edge of a massive pool. Once inside, the smell of fish and humidity tickled your nose as the sound of lapping of water reverberated in the slightly dimmed room; the only light being illuminated from the pool itself. The gray walls stretched high, the ceiling covered by long triangular beams that permitted the echoes of voices and lapping water in the room. One the far left was a coat rack and a small freezer with a large fan blowing the heated air around the room.

“When you come in - which will be about six-thirty each morning, you’ll hang your coat on the rack and put your lunch in the freezer before feeding your charges,” Crewel explained, walking over to the freezer and lifting the lid, “We always restock the food the night before, so you don’t have to worry about not having anything in here for the day. There will be nine buckets total in the freezer - three for the morning, three for noon, three for dinner - so make sure you dump all three buckets in the water, but don’t toss the actual bucket into the water.”

“What’s in them?” you ask, wrinkling your nose at the mixture within the buckets.

“A collection of shellfish - shrimp, crab, clam, lobster - and assorted fish are what they primarily eat,” Crewel answered as he closed the lid to the freezer, “We’ve tried feeding the moray twins octopi - but they refuse to touch it and often threw it at the feeders when they came in. Also, feel free to wear something comfortable. The water temperature varies from 45℉ to as low as 39℉ so we have to offset that with the atmosphere in our enclosure here at approximately 77℉ to 85℉ - never mind that one of the twins likes to splash newcomers right off the bat.”

“So, shorts are ok?”

“Shorts would be preferred, so yes,” Crewel nodded.

“But not too short - lower thigh length to knee length is acceptable,” Trein chided, “you are also permitted to wear sandals within the enclosure as well as a t-shirt or tank top due to the humidity. However, if you do choose sandals and tank tops - please bring a spare pair of tennis shoes to wear on the way in and on the way out as closed toed and heels are required within the labs and main building as well as something to keep your shoulders covered; this is a place of employment, not enjoyment.”

When you nod, Trein continued.

“After you feed them their breakfast, take a seat and use the notebooks over here to document any findings,” Trein walks to the opposite end of the enclosure, opening a locker filled with office supplies, “Take whatever you think you might need for the day and have a seat at the edge of the pool and begin your observations. It might take a few days before one of the twins actually approaches you, but once they do, you should be able to start the observations with no problems. During your first few days, remember to stay still - morays attack when startled or provoked, which we don’t want to happen. You’ll let them come to you and, hopefully once you get acquainted, you’ll be able to do your observations with no trouble at all.”

“Alright.”

“Your shift will be twelve hours total,” Trein also explained, “you will be expected to eat lunch with the trio and feed them their supper before you leave for the night at six pm and place any of your notes back in the locker here for Crewel or I to collect at the end of the day. When you leave, make sure the door is locked. Typically, we will be here until eight, so we often check the door on our way out - but just so you are aware, the door does get stuck on occasion; you may need to knock on the door a few times and one of us or our staff will get you out.”

You nod again.

“Alright, are there any questions?” Crewel asked.

“No, I think I’ve got it.”

“Very well,” Trein smiles, “We’ll see you tomorrow at six sharp - no later.”

“Thank you very much for this opportunity,” you bow your head to both of them before shaking each of their offered hands as the two escorted you out of the enclosure - none of you aware of the two sets of heterochromia eyes that watched your figure from below the water’s surface.

***

One week passes slowly as you go through the motions as the Twisted Wonders aquatic observer. 

Every morning, you arrive at quarter to six and greet Crewel and Trein at their laboratory doors. After they unlock and head into their own offices, you make your way to the enclosure and place your bag on the coat rack and the brown paper bag that contains your lunch in the freezer before hauling out the three of the nine gallon-sized buckets one at a time and dump the contents into the water, watching a little bit to see if anything will appear to snatch up a meal as the fish disappear into the murky depths of the pool. After watching the last piece of morsel disappear into the depths, you turn toward the locker, grabbing notebooks, pens and anything else you think you need and take a seat at the edge of the pool. 

As the hours pass by, you jot notes down about anything you see - which is nothing.

7:30am: Ripples of water, no sign of the creatures

10:30am: Still no sign of the creatures

12:30pm: Fed mers, no sign of breaking the surface yet - maybe they know I am waiting for them and want nothing to do with me?

2:30pm: Still no sign

4:30pm: I heard a splash, but saw nothing. Maybe they’re nervous?

6:00pm: Fed the mers their supper - Hoping to get a sign of them before I leave today.

Day after day after day, the notes were the same: No sign. No sign. No sign.

By the end of the first week, you were beginning to wonder if you actually would ever see the creatures or if they even existed - or even, heaven forbid, if you were a test subject yourself for believing that there were mers that lived in the enclosure. 

When Saturday morning came, you trudged into the enclosure with a heavy sigh and slowly began to begin the day’s events. Everything you did now seemed slower as the hope of seeing something otherworldly began to diminish like smoke. You pulled the first bucket of food out of the freezer and brought it to the edge of the pool, dumping the contents in before standing to return the bucket to the side of the freezer when something slimy and light hit the back of your head. Your hand instinctively reached up and brushed the hair behind your head, feeling traces of water and slime. You looked down to see what hit you, finding the bottom half of an unidentifiable colored fish laying behind you. 

Your eyes shifted to look out into the pool - but no movement or any indication that something had thrown the half of the fish at you could be seen.

‘Maybe I’m just imagining things,’ you thought as a sigh escaped your lips, picking up the fish and dropping it into the second bucket before it was dumped over the edge of the pool as well.

As you turned your back to grab the last bucket, again something smacked against the back of your head, a clicking sound following shortly afterwards.

‘Ok,’ you thought, a slight smirk appearing on your features as you picked up the large hunk of lobster from the ground, ‘whoever or whatever you are, I’m assuming you want to play. Well, let’s play.’

You grab the last bucket and dump the contents into the water and kneel at the edge - watching like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing. A few moments pass before you feel your back begin to strain, forcing you to stand. As you do, a whole king prawn nearly smacks you in the face as another round of clicking echoes in the enclosure. You whip your face toward the pool, just in time to see two sets of eyes watching you.

Silence defends the enclosure as the three of you stare in silence at one another.

Your heart races as you realize that the creatures staring at you must be the twins.

You can’t see them completely - their entire bodies are hidden under the water while the tops of their heads and their eyes are the only thing being seen from your position at the edge of the pool as they regard you from a few meters away - but you can see that they are nearly mirrors of each other.

They both have skin the color of seaweed with short hair to match - a longer piece the color of deep sea teal arching in the front of their faces. Instead of human ears, they have fins - likely hiding the gills they use to breathe underwater behind them. The one on your left appears to be more cautious than their twin on the right - their eyes are sharp, their right colored brown and left colored gold, and watching every movement you make as if calculating whether to attack you or not. The one on your right appeared to have more of a droopy expression on their face, their lower eyelids dropping into a bored expression, but their gaze is still sharp. Like their twin, their eyes are different colors - the left colored brown and the right colored gold instead.

You swallow thickly, unsure of what to do exactly. 

Moray eels attack if provoked, you recalled Crewel saying, so you didn’t want to make any sudden movements in case they read it wrong and attempt anything. However, it seems that the decision is quickly made when the one on your right slowly approaches the edge of the pool. You stay as still as possible as they approach, their eyes locked on yours as if in a trance. 

When they reach the edge, you can see the length of his body in the murky depths. His skin is a darker seaweed teal with little stripe patterns on his cheekbones and arms - with likely more on his lower body hidden deeper in the depths. Large fins poke out from his lower arms, giving him and his brother the ability to glide through the water quickly. You couldn’t see his tail, but if you had to guess - you thought he could be approximately six feet in length or longer.

Then, salted sea water covers your entire body, causing you to sputter at the surprise at getting splashed as the moray mer peeled in laughter. His brother follows up with three sharp clicks before the duo disappear under the water, leaving you to wonder what in the world just happened.

[roseofhybrids]

First bit of replicant AU concept art. How I'm thinking the buttons I mentioned the other day would work.

It's about 2 inches [~5 cm], give or take. A little smaller than the width of your average smartphone.

You hold down for a few seconds and then can either use it like a touch screen or give voice commands. Once the outer ring fills, the AI performer's body will freeze in place. Both to prevent them from interfering and to act as a restraint method should one of them ever get too wild (read, violent [mostly just a comedic hypothetical]). They can still talk and move their heads, and will unfreeze after someone navigates back to the default screen. The button will automatically return to that screen after 5 minutes of no one touching the screen or using a voice command.

The AI's can't interact with their own buttons, including removing them, but can activate the other's. They don't have much reason to, though, as they can do most of what the button can do on their own.

A few options include the snooze, which essentially puts the AI to sleep, but if Pomni were to interact with them, or they were to see/hear something that they're obligated to assist with/investigate. Such as hearing a scream or seeing Pomni with some kind of injury.

The tracker, which allows the user to find where the other AI's are located in the circus.

And of course, tech support. Which sends an alert to Caine and will try to trouble shoot the issue. If the problem is severe enough, it will call Caine to assist.

It can also display error messages and tell you if the AI is buffering.

Image text transcript:

The buttons: Interaction button default display icon name of the folder where the AI is housed - CAINE_AI_copy_05_J AI's name - "Jax"

Snooze set snooze 15 min, 1 hour, 8 hours, 24 hours, until button is pressed again

Tracker Gangle

Error an error has occurred and [JAX] is unable to respond. Please call Caine or another AI friend for assistance. 0X0000001A

Tech support please describe your issue A friend is being violent and won't stop A friend is missing and does not appear on the tracker A friend is not moving A friend is staring [for too long]

Comic AI 05 JAX "Hold your finger over the screen until the outer ring fills to bring up additional options. It'll respond to voice commands after that" "So, I just-" TING FREEZE "You good?" "Of course! It's just some temporary paralysis to keep us from moving while you adjust the settings!" "O-Oh..."

[little-diable]

Burnt Brownies - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

What can I say, we all just love undercover!Hotch, don't we? Please like and reblog, if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: A new neighbour moves into the house next to (y/n)'s – Mark (Aaron), a tall, handsome man she falls for far too quickly. All good things come to an end eventually, and sometimes people aren't what you may think they are.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), CM violence, some angst

Pairing: Undercover!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (3.2k words)

The sun was breaking through the blanket of clouds, following (y/n) through the streets she kept jogging through, rays lingering on her face. It was an early morning, barely anybody was awake yet, so it took her by surprise as she stumbled upon a tall man, dressed in sports clothes, moving into the same direction as she was. It took her a few moments to recognise him, the tall man that had moved into the house next to hers only yesterday, greeting her with a smile that had left her heart racing. 

He waved at her, moving closer to fall into a matching pace, “Morning, (y/n), I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

“Oh no, don’t you worry. Did you settle in fine?” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her smile from spreading, taking in Mark’s handsome features, the dark hair paired with eyes darker than the November sky at night. She barely paid his reply any of her attention, still caught up in her wandering thoughts, wondering why a man like him would move into their area without any wife or children. 

“So, tell me, who’re our neighbours, whose name should I remember?” Her chuckles echoed through the morning as they took a left turn, slowly making it back to their street. She pondered over her words for a moment, wondering how much she should tell him, if she should give away her dislike for most of the people living in the houses close to hers. 

“There are Betty and Dave across the street, they are sweet, like to invite neighbours over for weekend drinks. We also have Marie and Katy, they live in the house next to yours, a young couple I haven’t seen around much. Oh, and there’s Mike, but he isn’t one for socialising.” She didn’t notice how the tall man next to her furrowed his eyebrows, focusing on the last bits of information (y/n) just had shared with him. 

“What do you mean by “not one for socialising”?” They slowed down their pace, falling into a slow jog as they found their street, already seeing their houses from afar. (Y/n) deeply exhaled, eyes flickering down to her watch, watching the last few seconds fade by on her timer. 

“He likes to stare, but won’t really speak to you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard his voice before.” A soft chuckle clawed through (y/n) to try and ease the heaviness lingering around the two. Mark’s eyes met hers, and with a smile pulling on his thin lips he nodded his head, coming to halt in front of (y/n)’s house. 

“Same time tomorrow?” It took her a second to reply, smiling at Mark as she nodded her head, murmuring a soft “Can’t wait”. 

—

Soft music echoed through the supermarket, guiding (y/n) through the aisles, trying to pick up a few things for the weekend ahead. She had her eyes concentrated on her phone, rereading her shopping list, hoping that she won’t forget the most important items. 

“Let me guess, you’re trying to figure out what to bring to Betty and Dave’s tonight?” A raspy voice echoed through the air, forcing (y/n) to jerk, surprised by the sudden interruption. Her eyes found Mark dark ones, instantly making her smile widen as she took in the frame of the handsome neighbour. 

“Are you stalking me, Mark?” (Y/n)’s chuckles seemed to have an addicting effect on Mark, forcing a rough one out of him as he lightly shook his head. She couldn’t help but take in his frame, the dark purple dress shirt he was wearing, paired with dark trousers that seemed to add a few inches to his height. Fuck, for the past week her thoughts had kept wandering back to him far too much, fully hooked on the man that now joined her morning jogs, telling her more about the accounting job he was working, how he had been desperate to leave the big city. 

But even though she had clearly made a joke, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice how his smile fell, murmuring a soft "I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable?” 

“Oh no, please, I enjoy running into you.” Her hand found his forearm, slightly squeezing before her mind managed to catch up with what her hand was doing. Gingerly (y/n) pulled her hand away, cursing the heat that flushed through her like a tsunami wave threatening to pull her under. “And yes, I have no clue what to bring to theirs.” 

“I think wine should do the job?” Mark showed her the bottle he had placed in his basket moments ago, listening to her soft chuckles. 

“Maybe I’ll bake something for them, I was thinking brownies?” Her eyes wandered back down to her phone, wondering if she needed something else for her baked goods, knowing how picky Betty was with whatever guests brought over. 

“Brownies it is! Will the others also join?” Mark followed (y/n) down the aisle, helping her reach for the items she still needed, trapping her in an awfully homey feeling. Her mind couldn’t help but imagine how spending her weekends with Mark would play out, casually dating the man she felt all too comfortable around. 

“If you’re lucky you’ll meet Katy, Marie’s out of town, I’ve never seen Mike at Betty’s though.” She was too focused on her items to notice how the man next to her began to tense at the mention of the man’s name, eyes flickering down to her features. He only hummed, placing his items down to pay for them as (y/n) sorted through hers. “If you’re up for it, you could come over and bake the brownies with me.” 

Her confidence only seemed to grow as Mark smiled at her, helping her pack her shopping bags, “I can’t promise that I’ll be of any help, but I’d love to join you. I’ll come over at five?” 

—-

“More wine?” Mark started refilling their glasses before (y/n) even got a chance to reply, concentrating on her brownie batter. He had joined her minutes ago, helping her with a few ingredients, but mainly sticking to sharing comments that made her laugh, giving away small bits and pieces of his past baking experiences. 

“I’ll be drunk before we go over there, if I mess up the brownies it’s your fault, I hope you know that.” She turned towards him with a smirk, not expecting him to stand this close. For a few moments they were engulfed by silence, eyes flickering down to his lips, wondering how the evening would play out if he’d kiss her, pulling her focus away from their evening plans. (Y/n) broke eye contact first, focusing on pouring the batter into the moulds, pushing them into the oven. 

“Here, let me at least do the washing-up.” Mark softly pushed her away, hitching up the sleeves of his dark shirt, exposing his muscular forearms. (Y/n) stepped away only to find rest on her kitchen island, sipping on her wine as she watched him clean. Fuck, she was in too deep already, would offer her everything to the man she had known for the past two weeks. 

“Feel free to come by more often to do my dishes.” (Y/n) chuckled at the way he raised his eyebrows, body fully turned towards her with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He studied her for a few moments before he moved closer, settling between her dangling legs, hands placed on the kitchen island. No words were spoken between the two, pulled closer by the pull (y/n) felt inside her chest, urged on by the wine that warmed her from inside. Neither of them were drunk, not even tipsy, but the wine managed to drown out the daunting thoughts (y/n) had been guided by. 

He decided to move first, breath fanning over her skin, eyes meeting hers for one last time before he closed the gap, kissing her carefully. It didn’t take long for (y/n) to snap into motion, arms finding their way around his neck, tongue finding his, forcing a deep groan out of the man. Her eyes fell close, relishing in the feeling of his wandering hands, how his fingers stroked her soft skin, finding rest beneath her shirt. 

“We need to stop, otherwise we won’t manage to make it over there by seven.” Mark’s voice had grown raspy, clearly giving away the arousal thumping through his veins, guided by the desire he felt. She could only shake her head, pulling him in for another bruising kiss, not ready to let him go just yet. 

“I need you, fuck, please.” He studied her for a few moments before he gave in, slightly swollen lips pulled into a smirk. 

“I’ll take my time with you later, but we gotta be quick.” She pushed him away, hand reaching for his to pull Mark towards her bedroom, gasping as he gave her a rough push, back pressed against her mattress. He towered over her like a god, dark eyes staring down on her as if she was Persephone, abducted by Hades; spring would blossom soon, urged on by the heat he pushed through her. 

Mark fumbled with her shirt, pulling her free from it with her bra and trousers following moments later. His clothes followed soon, shirt unbuttoned by her shaking fingers, moving down to his belt to free his hardening cock. (Y/n) didn’t dare break eye contact as she spat into her palm before she wrapped her fingers around his cock. His breath hitched in his chest, staring down on (y/n), how she pumped him slowly at first, trying to adjust to his size. 

“Can I taste you?” Her soft whispers left him groaning, freeing the breathy “Yes” that burned on the tip of his tongue. Her tongue followed the veins wrapped around his cock, following them up to the tip, sucking on it before she decided to take more of him. The corners of her mouth burned, struggling to take all of him. 

(Y/n)’s gags echoed through the room, glassy eyes taking in his pleasure drunken features, not daring to look away. His veiny hand found her head, guiding the bobbing movement of hers, adding more speed to her pace. She could stay like that till the end of this very night, pleasuring the man she never wanted to part from again, addicted to his sounds, to the way he tasted and felt. 

Her tears kept dripping, rolling down her cheeks like the first rain that had fallen onto the dry earth after Hades had pulled Persephone into his trap, binding her to the underworld, one with the dead souls crossing the river Styx. 

“Just like that, doing so well for me, pretty girl.” Mark’s praises left her walls clenching around nothing, needing to be filled by him, wanting to feel his cock buried deep inside of her. She felt him twitch in her mouth, soon he’d give in, releasing himself down her throat with a groan of her name, and yet he interrupted the moment before he could give in. “Need to fuck you now, before I lose my control.” 

(Y/n) moved up her mattress, reaching for a condom Mark pulled from her hand, watching her push her soaked panties down her legs, exposing herself to his darkening eyes. He crawled up her frame, staring down on her as one hand found her core, fingers brushing through her dripping folds, collecting drops of her arousal he spread on her pulsing bundle. Soft moans left her, ringing in his ears like a symphony made by the gods, inspired by the pull both felt deep inside of them.  

“Please, Mark, fuck me.” For a second he stared down on her before he aligned himself with her heat, eyes not leaving hers as he pushed into her. She tensed, eyes falling shut to breathe through the new sensation, needing to adjust before she could nod her head, allowing him to fuck her. 

Mark didn’t waste any time, pulling out of her tightness to only add more strength to his thrusts, fucking her into the mattress. (Y/n) had her eyes squeezed shut, fingernails leaving scratches on his back, clawing herself into his skin. Both knew that they wouldn’t last, urged on by the pressure the last days have pushed upon them, building up the heat that thumped through their bodies. 

Their moans reverberated through the bedroom, echoing off the walls, a sound (y/n) would remember for days to come, caught up in the memories of this very evening. Her legs trembled, back arched as his fingers found her clit, circling it a few times to give her the last push she needed to fall off the edge. She moaned his name, pulling him down right with her.

He fucked her through her high, letting go with a soft gasp he groaned into the crook of her neck, lips finding her soft skin. Both were heavily panting, caught up in the feeling of their highs, not paying attention to the passing by minutes, nor to the burnt smell lingering in the air. It took them both too long to snap out of their trance, disappearing into the bathroom to redress before they emerged from her bedroom. 

“Oh fuck.” (Y/n)’s gasps gained his attention, watching her take in the burnt brownies, glistening eyes finding his. Both couldn’t help but chuckle, sharing another kiss before he murmured “Guess the wine will have to do” against her lips. And even though he left her house to pick up his wine, rejoining her moments later, (y/n) knew that she never wanted to part from him again.

—-

Both knocked on Betty and Dave’s door, waiting a few moments before they knocked again. They were a few minutes late, struggling to let go of one another, wondering if they should bail on their neighbours. 

“Do you think they forgot?” (Y/n) asked as she knocked again, reaching for the door handle. The door was unlocked, allowing the two to step into the house. Both called their neighbours names, stepping further into the house, wondering where the others were. It took them a few moments to move down the hallway, freezing as their eyes found the scene in front of them. 

Betty and Dave were sitting on the sofa, eyes focused on Mike, who had two guns pointed at his neighbours. (Y/n)’s eyes found the wide ones of Betty, watching the tears drip down the woman’s cheeks. 

“Well, finally, we were waiting for you.” Mike chuckled his words, pointing one gun at (y/n) who instantly raised her hands, not daring to move. 

“Put the guns down, Mike. There’s no need for them to get hurt.” Mark spoke softly, too softly for (y/n)’s liking, not understanding why he acted so calmly. “Look at me, Mike.”

“Shut up!” Mike grew more agitated, tightening his hold on his guns, eyes flickering between the four neighbours, clearly unsure who to focus on. Mark took a step closer, halting as Mike pointed both guns at him, screaming a panicked “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot them!”

“Listen, Mike, there’s no way out of this, the game is over.” (Y/n) shot Mark a confused gaze, not understanding what he was talking about, why he seemed to know more about Mike. “You won’t make it out of here, but I promise your parents won’t manage to hurt you again.” 

“You know nothing about my parents!” Mike kept screaming, pointing his guns back at the other couple as Betty cried out, panicked by the situation. (Y/n) didn’t dare let her eyes move back from Mark, gasping at the gun he pulled from the back of his trousers, pointing it at Mike. 

“Do you hear this Mike?” For a few seconds silence lingered in the room, allowing all five of them to focus on the sound of sirens, making relief widen in (y/n)’s system – and yet the feeling didn’t last long, confused by Mark, his words, his gun, wondering what was going on. “They’ll be here any moment now, put the guns down, I don’t want to shoot you.” 

A panicked cry left the young man, eyes squeezed shut as he let go of his guns, gasping as Mark caught his frame, pushing him to the ground, murmuring words (y/n) paid no attention to. All she could do was watch the door being pushed open by armed officers, stepping into the house. A pair of handcuffs were pushed into Mark’s stretched out hands, arresting Mike before he was pulled off the ground. 

It took Mark a few moments before his eyes found (y/n)’s, pushing past the other officers to find his way to her, “Are you okay?” 

“Who are you?” Her voice had a tremble to it, and yet it carried no emotion. (Y/n)’s glassy eyes gave away the confusion she felt, caught in the emotions flushing through her, unsure what had just happened. 

“C’mon, let's talk outside.” She reluctantly followed him outside, arms wrapped around herself as they came to halt in front of her house. “My name’s Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’ve been watching Mike for a while, but we needed to get close enough to him, it was only a matter of time till he’d go for your neighbours. He was hunting down people that reminded him of his parents, an act of revenge for their abuse.” 

“Did you use me for information?” Her voice was small, unsure what she could and shut trust. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me more about him, but everything I told you was real, well, besides my name, my job and my family. I didn’t sleep with you because of information or something like that, what I feel for you is very much real and I’d like to keep following this, wherever it will lead us, if you’ll let me.” 

“I need a bit of time to think about this.” Aaron nodded his head, murmuring a soft “Of course” before he reached for his wallet, pulling a card free. 

“Here, my number’s on there, call me whenever you feel like talking.” 

— 

Days have passed since that very night, days (y/n) had spent with wandering thoughts, unable to focus on anything but the thought of Aaron. Every now and then she had reached for her phone, wondering if she should call him, and yet she had been held back by the confusion she felt. 

She missed him, more than she’d like to admit, guided through the uneasiness she was trapped in. It was late at night when she finally found the courage to call him, fingers trembling as she waited for him to pick up, unable to bite down her smile as he picked up the phone with his rough voice. 

“Aaron, hi, it’s me, (y/n). How do you feel about some coffee tomorrow morning?”

[trashpandacraft]

I'm a long time knitter thinking about getting into spinning (probably not soon bc I live in a tiny apartment and barely have room for my knitting stuff), but I'm curious: what do you do with your handspun yarn? Do you ever spin enough to make a larger project like a sweater? (That's mostly what I like to knit)

one of the cool things about handspun is that you can literally make anything out of it!

i personally have made socks, shawls, hats, mittens, scarves, and—once—a baby sweater, but not an adult sweater. (yet.) this is for a couple reasons, though.

first, i'm fat. i'm not especially fussed about it, but it does mean that just from a coverage perspective, my 53"/135 cm bust is going to need a lot more yarn than someone with a 35"/89cm bust.

the second reason complicates the first: i really don't like knitting with worsted-and-heavier yarns. i'm currently working on a jumper that has 4.75 stitches to the inch, and i am suffering because i hate how big everything is. so spinning for a jumper for myself means probably 2000 metres of sock weight. which, don't get me wrong, would be fun, but this brings me to:

the third (and biggest) reason, which is that i'm disabled, and for a lot of years i had to really limit how much spinning i could do because my damaged hips couldn't bear the motion of treadling. for probably ten years, i didn't spin more than 100g of anything, because even doing that much could take me a month or more of regular spinning sessions.

that said, reason the third has been largely mitigated by my eel wheel, so i've actually been thinking about trying to spin for a sweater this year! my personal physical issues made spinning really hard for a while, but generally speaking, there's absolutely no reason you can't spin for a sweater, and there are quite a few people around here who've done so with beautiful results.

i will say, with regards to spinning, that it's a remarkably forgiving craft with regards to space. i cleaned out my nightstand the other day and discovered four spindles and 50g of fibre in it—i hadn't even realised they were in there! spinning supplies can be really tiny, so it's actually a great choice for small spaces. a drop spindle and some fibre will fit almost anywhere you want them to, so space doesn't have to be a huge concern if you don't want it to be. i hope you give it a go!

[multiverse-fandoms-2001]

My Original Female Character:

Full Name: Eileithyia

Nickname: Leithyia, Lei, Thyia

Born: 685

Age: 1338 (25 physically)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Status: Alive

Origin: Earthrealm (Island in the Mediterranean)

Resides: Earthrealm

Specie: Human

Height: 5’8” (172 cm)

Hair Color: Silver

Eye Color: Gold

Skin Color: Pale (with grey tattoo)

Weapons:

- Two Chokutō

Hilt: 11.4 inches/29 com

Blade: 57.08 inches/145 cm

Total: 5 feet 8.5 inches /174 cm

- Two Ninjatō

Hilt: 5 inches/14 cm

Blade: 2 feet 4.3 inches/72 cm

Total: 2 feet 9.8 inches/86 cm

Affiliations:

- Yeborath Clan/Cult

- Emperor Jerrod (formerly)

- Lin Kuei (formerly)

- Shaolin Monks

- White Lotus Society

Likes: Knitting, cooking, reading, tea times with Liu Kang, teaching Rhea, hunting, piles of hugs, training with Kenshi, night movies.

Dislikes: Sindel, Rhea getting hurt, her loved one in danger, not being able to use the full potential of her magic.

Backstory: Eileithyia was a young matron from a warrior clan native to an island in the Mediterranean. She watched as her husband and clan were slaughtered by the sorcerer thirsting for their souls, and had to give a quick and painless death to the few who survived but had their lives by a thin line. She would have joined her husband, sisters, and brothers if it weren't for the Lin Kuei and their lifetime debt...

She lies for more than a thousand years freezing, where once was her home, now it was a tomb, her clan has been erased from history, forgotten, or so she thought... Waking up in what was said to be the 21st century, with no knowledge of the modern environment in which she found herself, Eileithyia starts a new life in a village, decides to leave her past behind but her plans go down the drain when a certain Fire God and Protector of Earthrealm shows up at her favorite teahouse…

Personality: Eileithyia is wise, attentive and kind to those she considers family but is highly cautious, suspicious and critical of outsiders. After the massacre of her clan, she turned dark and bloody, resorting to even darker magic than she was used to in an attempt to avenge her clan.

After starting visiting Madam Bo's Teahouse and start a friendship with Raiden and Kung Lao, her behavior changed slightly, losing interest in killing and leaving behind his path of revenge, preferring to incapacitate his opponent without seriously injuring him. Many villagers in Fengjian describe Eileithyia as cold, aloof, lonely, and silent, refraining from showing her softer side, being reserved only for children, Madam Bo, Kung Lao, and Raiden. And despite her cold exterior, everyone in Fengjian knew that they could trust Eileithyia with their children, many speak and praise warmly about her fierce protection.

She has a slightly dark sense of humor in combat, often joking that she needs certain parts of her opponent's body as a sacrifice to the Elder Gods or for some dark ritual. She also has some sadistic tendencies, such as liking to give a slow and painful death to a person who she fully believes to deserves it, she also finds it satisfying to take a person to death with her own hands, reaching the point of healing all the wounds that she caused and repeating everything again.

Author's notes: Hello, how are you guys? I hope you liked the character I created. I used Merrin from Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order and Star Wars Jedi: Survivor to be the face of my character, I may be a passable editor but not the best artist. 😅 I also wanted to say thank you to @lynn-w3st 😘 for helping me develop the character as well as ideas for developing the story.

I'm still thinking about whether or not I should make a prologue, I already have the first chapter in mind and maybe some intros but I'm still writing other information about my original character (brutalities, fatalities, fatal blow)… please be patient with me, I'm very nervous about this. And sorry if there were any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language and I am using the translator to write the parts where my English is not that good.

[kitsune-pop]

Hazy Daze

CW: casual vore, weed, digestion

Hazel sat down on her living room floor, leaning against the couch. It was her day off, and she was gonna make it a good one, starting with some smoke, snacks and games. She carefully packed a bowl for her trusty Kirby bong, lit it up and popped open a box of cheese snacks to nibble on while she booted up her Wii for Mario Kart. Today was gonna be a good day.

0o0

Hazel was having a great time. Her living room was sufficiently cloudy, she was beating the computer drivers within an inch of their lives and she was relaxed enough that even the occasional Blue Shell didn't bother her (or the following Red Shell, or Green Shell, or Star…). Even so, she was still hungry. Two hours into the day and she'd already eaten all the snacks.

She shook her bangs out of her eyes as she crossed the finish again, dirty blonde hair falling right back into her face as she reached for her phone. She had told herself she wasn't going to order anything, but her tummy had started grumbling at her–which she absentmindedly rubbed through her tank top as she looked at her delivery options. Pizza was always a good choice, plus it wasn't too expensive. She cracked a grin when a popup of "Still hungry? Order the delivery person for dinner too! Take advantage of our Delivery Delivery deal today!" showed up on the app.

"Not this time, capitalism. I'm watching my bank account today." Hazel giggled a bit, ordering her pizza and packing a tad more in her Kirbong. It shouldn't take more than half an hour for her pizza to get here, and she wanted to have the perfect amount of munchies by the time it got delivered.

0o0

After the third time of falling off the track on Maple Treeway, Hazel paused her game to laugh at herself. The pot was definitely affecting her now. She guessed after a few hours of smoking even someone with her tolerance would start to feel it. Polite knocking grabbed her attention and she got to her feet, throwing a pair of pajama pants on before she answered the door.

A cute girl stood on her dingy welcome mat, complete with a hat starring a pizza logo and a single pizza box balanced in her hands. She barely came up to Hazel's chin, but at 193 cm most girls were shorter than her anyways.

The delivery girl looked up at Hazel with a brilliant smile, beaming up at her. "Thank you for choosing Happy Helper's Pizzeria! I hope you enjoy your order!"

Hazel blinked slowly, brain struggling to break through the fog before she reached for her pizza. "Thanks, I'm starving." Her belly gave an audible grumble, which she tried to stifle by placing a hand on her midsection.

The smaller girl glanced down shyly before looking back up at Hazel's face. "It sure sounds like it! Good thing you ordered the special!" She reached up and took off her hat–straight dark hair dropping to just above her shoulders–before moving to unbutton her work uniform, still smiling all the way.

Hazel quickly raised a hand to stop the delivery girl (although not before giving her a quick once-over), lifting the pizza box in one hand over her head before speaking up. "Uh, I only ordered the pizza. No offense." The shorter girl looked up at Hazel before pointing at the pizza in her hand.

"On your order it says you upgraded for Delivery Delivery though."

Confused now, Hazel looked at her receipt to see, yup, one pizza and one Delivery Delivery special. She quickly grabbed her phone, opened the app and looked at her orders. As she did, the clouds in her head parted just enough for her to remember opening the app shortly after placing the order and adding the deal to her delivery. Looks like the munchies took another victory on her bank account.

She shrugged, pocketing her phone and opening her door up for the delivery girl to walk in. "Hey, I won't turn down a meal like you! Especially after I already spent the money…"

The girl laughed, her smile not as brilliant as before but much more genuine. "Pretty sure we've all made bad decisions when we're high." She finished unbuttoning her top, tossing it on the floor before she reached down to untie her shoes, giving Hazel a fantastic view of her next meal's assets.

A plump ass, juicy thighs, smooth skin, this was someone who took good care of themselves and probably knew they weren't gonna last long around predators. As she kicked off her shoes and socks she turned around, showing off a small muffin top and perky boobs. Catching Hazel staring she laughed and winked at the tall pred before dropping her pants and panties in one movement, stepping out of the pool of clothes and smiling salaciously.

"So, how do you want me?" The girl posed a little bit, showing off for Hazel as the tall girl put her long forgotten pizza on the counter. The pred walked forward, grabbed the girl's shoulders and quickly stuffed her head into her mouth, moaning at the taste of natural shampoo (coconut?) flooding her mouth.

She quickly worked her way down, gulping down her neck and shoulders, giving some extra attention to her prey's tasty tits. She felt the girl jerk in surprise before feeling soft hands kneading her stomach, giving gentle rubs and pinches. Wasting no time Hazel lurched forward, relaxing her muscles and stuffing the girl into her throat down to her belly button. Now for the annoying part.

Hazel leaned back, picking her prey up off the ground and holding the young girl above her head. The experienced pred stepped back, leaning against her counter before beginning to gulp her meal down in earnest, gravity helping deliver the girl into her stomach. With a few powerful swallows Hazel quickly had the girl tucked away in her belly, tank top riding up and pajama pants pushing down under the dome of overstuffed gut.

Hazel stood there, panting to herself as her meal shifted into a more comfortable position inside her. Already she felt her stomach groaning and squeezing around her meal, and she grabbed her pizza before waddling over to her couch and plopping down on it. The pred moaned at how full she felt, rubbing her stretched skin as she felt her passenger start to play with herself even as her belly did its best to digest her.

Hazel started to get hard listening to the muffled pants and moans coming from her tummy. Unable to think of an excuse not to, the buck toothed pred reached under her stomach and into her pants, grabbing her cock and beginning to rub one out. With one hand in her pants and another rubbing the taut skin of her belly Hazel was quickly bringing herself to orgasm. The feeling of a stuffed, bloated belly was made even sweeter with the gasps and moans coming from within, the noises starting to get drowned out by the grumbling of the organ itself. She could feel every twitch and movement from her prey inside her, and could tell when the smaller girl came, her stomach deforming slightly as the girl arched her back, screaming in pleasure before relaxing.

Of course, relaxing just meant Hazel's body won the little war of attrition they had between them. The muscles quickly clenched and squeezed the girl within her into a tight ball, and a final powerful belch signaled the last of the air being forced out. Hazel came hard as she burped, panting and moaning as she made a mess of her pants. She leaned back against her couch, breathing hard for a minute before glancing at her Kirbong, a smile on her lips. She still had the whole rest of the day to herself, didn't she?

0o0

Hazel jerked awake at a loud bang, followed by some choice cursing. "Seriously, Hazel?! What the fuck! We were supposed to go to the movies tonight!"

The tall pred looked up at her friend Trixie. The short girl was fuming, red faced and glaring. Hazel looked around her living room, noting the empty pizza box and her character idling in front of a wall in her game, the race long over. She rubbed her head before belching, putting a hand on the much smaller bulge in her middle.

"Sorry, I didn't think I was gonna fall asleep." She noted Trixie's flushed face and the way she completely refused to look at her bloated belly. Grinning, she leaned forward, her stomach gurgling as another burp popped out of her mouth. "But that doesn't mean we can't find something to do here."

[zoroara]

Okay, something very important you are about to learn about me: I am obsessive about many things. One of these happens to be swords and sword fighting, among a few other weapon types but mostly those two. (Also hilariously sharks also are one of these things. Some how neither of these were influenced by khr being a VERY long standing thing.) This post is going to be aggressively long.

And I'll save you guys with a read more. But, in essence what I'm going to be doing here if I'm going to be plainly looking at the three swordsmen, Yamamoto, Squalo and Genkishi's swords, weaknesses and strengths as well as things like battle techniques and generally what you would actually want to do in a fight with those swords. For simplicities sake I'm not going to be factoring in things like Squalo's gunpowder bombs, or flames(which affects a lot of genkishi's fighting sorry dude) and generally things like that. Note there is going to barely be a structure and I'll be writing whatever tangent I happen to think of so like. Good luck. But maybe this'll be interesting for writing.

Now with that clarification out of the way let's dig into the meat here.

Okay obviously we're starting with Yamamoto himself.

So, Katana or well standard Katana as there are several classes of Katana. Are about 24 - 31 inches long(or approx 60 - 78 cm long) his blade is a bit longer than this at which point it becomes something known as the "O Katana" set instead of the standard, they're typically used two handed which Yamamoto does use it as a good potion of the time. They're fairly straight blades, and an important factor to note, folding a sword increases it's sharpness, but can make it more brittle and generally depending on the way it's been folded can affect the whole blade to not be capable of blocking hits well, Katana generally are best used when you have clear ways of attacking, though they can be used to block obviously, you'll want to more change the trajectory of the other blade using the curve of yours more than full stop block something you can do more with European blades.

Things I want to point out in the battle this is used before we move on to the irregular swords.

Yamamoto, while I understand doesn't know much about swords, here's the thing. Though it is a common trope, it you were to hit someone with the back of a blade in a position that does not in fact flex, which i want to note European swords do on the flat of the blade, which will come up later on squalo's section. Hitting someone with the flat, and the back will do fundamentally different things. Yamamoto basically turned his sword into a blunt weapon, if that HAD hit squalo, while it wouldn't have killed him, it WOULD likely break bone and cause internal bleeding the same way taking any pure blunt metal object being swung by a baseball player WOULD DO. WHICH BEING HONEST MIGHT JUST KILL THE MAN ANYWAY.(if Squalo of course, could die. God finds him too funny to let him die)

What gets me here in particular is Squalo's reaction to this. The thing is, this is absolutely not an invalid way of holding a sword. In fact, usually in armor that restricts movements you may adapt techniques that are slightly altered, a lot of ways to hold other weapons can be transferred to a sword, and have been. This way would give the same momentum and range of movement as a swing from a baseball bat, and in fact the only thing strange about this is actually the foot stance, for Squalo to gawk at this, he is either in-experienced with more armoured opponents, or has not encountered that large of a variety of sword technique as others claim he has

(it should be noted he never makes the claims himself except with Shigure Soen Ryu everything we learn about him is from other people. Squalo actually doesn't gloat about his accomplishments and in the manga the only time he calls out what attack he's using is in rainbow arc when he's using his special box weapon move with his exec squad. most of what he says is degrading the opponent or taunts. Patting himself on the back is more of a Levi move-).

Also fun fact about Shigure Soen Ryu, the 6th form is never seen in the series. All we know is that it's a defensive technique. Also how lucky is it they were fighting in a water based arena, half these moves would not go well otherwise-

Now! Moving on, as I cannot possibly tell you shit about swords made of pure flame. I'll be talking about the blades they're originally based on.

So these "swords" are actually known as Tantō they're basically small daggers about 6 - 12 inches (approx 15 to 30cm) in that were often carried with a longer sword like the Tachi and the katana as a support to the free hand, generally with the idea that if you have a hand that's empty you're either protecting it or using something. you typically never want your whole body face your opponent. something too many of these idiots do. For obvious reasons you want to minimize the space your opponent has to hit. That's why when you see a lot of sword fighting, even with big heavy blades, most of the time the stand their sides more predominantly facing their opponent than straight on.

Anyway, moving on the the Necklace of Rain version X! It's honestly a shame we barely get to see any actual moves outside of the flame stuff.

Here's something interesting! When dual wielding blades, it's best to actually have two different sized ones, this way you'll be making certain strikes faster and slower, among other things will make it easier to avoid hitting your blades together. You typically do not want to bring your swords in a place where they would meet in a strike, like X motions commonly made in this series, unless they're different sizes or you have enough control to slightly delay one blade more than the other. Otherwise they will clash and depending where the strike would have started, completely prevent the attack!

Other fun fact, this was a common technique with Samurai(one of the reasons it was common however was due to a Japanese law I'm not getting into here. It was not just because of the benefits to it.) Daishō, is typically depicted with a Wakizashi or a Tantō, however the technique itself is with any long blade and a short blade. Given that Yamamoto was already given four Tantō, I'm almost certain despite the length this was intended to be a Wakizashi.

Now, I could absolutely not tell you why one of them has those gaps though. Well other than the obvious "it looks cool" They could potentially be used as gaps like in other blades to catch weapons and disarm opponents, though, these gaps are very big and would more than likely sacrifice the structural integrity of the sword more than they would be useful. If they are smaller they may see more use in that way.

Other interesting fact, there ARE Serrated Katana blades, but. Well they're against the Geneva convention, but also they don't exist in history and is more of a modern thing that was made for """"fun"""". The reason they don't exist in history is because Serrated blades would get caught in the flesh and would be very hard to get out of an opponent... which is also why they're against the Geneva convention.

Now, We'll move onto Squalo, who because unlike this Section of swords, which the Katana, O Katana, Wakizashi look very similar just in different sizes and the Tantō were pretty much as shown(though you'll find prettier pictures of them), I'm going to have to bring up images of what I'm talking about because no one is going to know what the FUCK I'm Saying.

First off, drives me nuts by the way. As you'll soon find out, neither of Squalo's swords is a Spatha. I do not know WHY this is on the wiki, I do not know it's source, I do not know where this information is from nor who identified his sword as such. If it was a decision by Amano themself to call it a Spatha, it is incorrect. As you've seen above, swords just being different sizes alone despite the rest being almost the exact same makes them different swords, with different names. Additionally when you take this over to European blades, there's also a ton of different guards, hilts, shape, whether the blade is flat or not etc to take into account when identifying a blade.

So automatically, whatever sword Squalo has attached to his arm is not a fucking Spatha if it's referring to this.

Now we'll compare the blade's shape, which as you can see, Spatha actually prefer a round to their edge.

A fairly close shape to this can be argued that maybe it's a 16 or a 13 blade and he just removed it's hilt,pommel and guard. HOWEVER, we know this blade almost reaches Squalo's ankle when he's standing full height. It's REALLY long, as you can see, the 16 and 13 are more on the shorter end of these blades. and they certainly aren't thin enough. The shorter end of these blades before it goes into GladII range is about as long as his calf. These blades are also evidently thicker than what Squalo has generally.

Also Spatha have grooves like this in the sword which isn't depicted in the overall shape, they have these though can be found with only one they're typically more ornamental or smooth if they have these sorts, they're very flat blades so it's not for the shape. Squalo's blade tends to be more than a flat sheet while it's swung sideways.

This thing is custom made to hell and back and cannot exactly be considered exactly one type of sword other than "Vaguely European". However, if I were to tell you what sword he may have taken for a base I would hand you the Italian Arming sword

Very long, clear sharp end, has the correct thickness to the blade among other things. He still would have definitely lengthened it to something that generally you would two hand. Which says something about the body strength Squalo has in his arm. Because let me tell you, it does not matter if you can lift 10 pounds easily. If that is distributed over a long length it gets harder and harder to wield and control. Usual physics stuff you know? If you're writing Squalo remember this dude is fucking shredded to carry a sword that's technically a type of long sword with only one fucking arm and swinging it around as if it's not even there. Now that's a man you don't want to arm wrestle. (well for other reasons than just that but really. Generally you do not want this man within arms reach. He will kill you.)

Now for his other sword that is FOR SURE not a Spatha.(I'm sorry this drove me fucking nuts for the longest time, you have to deal with this too if you want sword facts.) We only see like three panels and OH MY GOD CAN I NOT USE THE FIRST FOR SWORD IDENTIFICATION.

NO SWORD IS FUCKING BUILT LIKE THIS. YOU DO NOT BUILD A SWORD LIKE THIS. ALL THE WEIGHT OF IT IS AT THE END AND THIS IS GOING TO KILL YOUR ARM MORE THAN YOUR OPPONENT. SUPERBI FUCKING SQUALO DO YOU WANT CARPAL TUNNEL? THIS IS HOW YOU GET FUCKING CARPAL TUNNEL(maybe that's why he was fine with cutting off his left arm, but then again then he goes and uses the same blade with his right arm, so if so he learned nothing)

Aside from the VERY obvious blade issue, Spatha do not have hilts pommels or even guards like this, all of them are very kind of, no guard, and shorter hilts, rounded pommels. You absolutely could not get a less Spatha like sword.

Next, the ones where I could maybe get a proper identification off of it.

Since Amano kind of fucks up his sword in long shots this gives a clearer look at what this is. In the 2nd image it's as thin as a rapier. But I can tell from the length of the hilt this sword in combination to it's blade length is made to be able to switch between two and one hand, one for power the other for reach depending on how you hold it.

This type of sword uh, funny enough is known as a Bastard Sword. This is a category of sword and not a specific type of sword mind you. As is Long sword and other such things. However the categorizing is kind of messy because of different languages using the same word both using the term in the same way and also not. However know now a-days that's how we refer to them, as you can see though

The only difference is in size and shape is it's kind of prettier.

But generally both swords follow more arming sword/bastard sword shape and size

Now lemme explain to you why Squalo kneecapped himself by changing swords.

Already I told you the versatility of how these swords will allow you more power and range. But did you know, many of these swords at the time, would purposefully have a dull area you can grab with your hands for even MORE versatility? Essentially if you got stuck in let's say a cramped hallway, you're fighting near allies, or even your opponent is too close to you or even they're wearing armour, you'd be able to wield it like a dagger and give yourself more focused attacks and precision, that you could do better with less risk(this was great at getting into armour gaps). which is something he cannot do now stuck to only wide swings and stabs.

You think that's a pretty bad deficit already? How about the fact he can't change hands, meaning he can't feint opponents with fake swings as easily, that if his opponent is on the wrong side of him he needs to adjust his entire body instead of just switching hands? Normally that isn't a special problem, but Squalo is logically an ambidextrous sword user from the work he put in before getting his prosthetic! So it's a special waste of an advantage. This needing to adjust his whole body leaves him usually facing his opponent full on by accident too.

Not only that either! You know how I said there's a ton of ways to use a sword and even holding it "Strangely" is a valid way to use them? A technique used against armoured opponents is to use these not sharp areas on the sword and basically use the flexible sword as a flail hitting a knight on top of the head with the pommel. I have seen it used and it DENTS armour. and the person inside usually gets stunned hard enough that within a few seconds they'll need to sit down. Imagine what it would do to an unprotected human skull. So saying that a sword was useless against an armoured opponent is very incorrect. Thankfully for Squalo, he doesn't have to fight those.

But regardless on that part, the inability to have the versatility of all of the above makes it seriously impressive that he's even kept his title so long. Man should have lost it ages ago. But then again, in X-Fiamma it was made clear that the Executives weren't allowed to do anything important at least mission wise until Xanxus got back so maybe he also wasn't allowed to got slaughter other swordsman. Maybe the 101 he killed in future arc was to get the blood lust of 8 years out and that's why he's a little more focused.

I do want to point out something here

This? This is Squalo fucking showing off. and you may not know JUST how much he's showing off here. You see, when you're sword fighting, dodging is the LAST option you want to do. This is because of the fact your brain has an order of operations. Because you know it may send signals quickly but it still has travel time. The LAST thing that will get a message is your feet.

So it is safer and better to block, parry, counter. Dodging also can not only get you injured, it allows your opponent to chase. Because you've moved, you can be pushed backwards further and be controlled that way. Squalo doing this is a taunt in of itself because he should KNOW these things more than anyone else here.

Since Squalo's blade stays the exact same. I'll now just move onto Genkishi's four swords.

So immediately you'll notice, it's our old friend the bastard sword! Meaning while Genkishi doesn't use these techniques I mentioned above he'll be able to if you ever happen to write him.

However! It does appear his Sword is a little thicker than Squalo's in some panels, and with how he moves them it is VERY stiff, so he wouldn't be able to use them as a flail but as a club instead. Still though, pretty damn effective against an armoured opponent.

Also this is very silly. For reasons that should be obvious, this wouldn't do shit. Unfortunately despite his very interesting techniques, my notes on his fighting style end here too many illusions <:). I'd love to expand more.

Also if you have any questions!! I'd love to answer them, absolutely obsessed with this kind of this so not only thanks for sticking with me here, but asking any question will probably get you a very long explanation.

Also the reason I didn't go into sword techniques much, just know we actually have no idea the maximum number of certain techniques for the blade there are, just there's "best ways of practice" and certain moves you'll occasionally see, but most of it is working on the fly. Just for the Katana alone there would be an estimate of 1000+. Insane that Squalo thinks he's seen them all.

[lunarfeat21]

Now that I'm working on the Zero Fleet art reference, I wanna give a seek peek that might make you chuckle ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ (plus some little lore as a treat)

This is Captain Zero, or his full name is Scaramuccia Zero, and apparently he's a little crabby. Why, you may ask?

Well, this (and I will explain a bit):

Bro's is short compared to his men, even Zip & Zug are a few inches taller than their pissy captain.

However, in my yandere tugs au, Zero is 5'9 ft (or 175 cm)... take a good look.

The thing is, his men aren't really human. They may looked human, but a bit over the average height.

They're called Avatars, humanoid vessels for the tugs' soul. It's not only a tug thing, but every sentient marine vessel (lightships, submarines, trampers, launch vessels, just anything with a face essentially) and can be taller (or stronger) than a human.

Probably a good thing in the Zero Fleet's case, cause Captain Zero is infamous for his short temper and wanting to fight would-be opponents, only for his tugs hauled him away if the opponents don't want to deal with crazy.

It also didn't help that Captain Zero wore modified gloves most of the time, gloves are a bit thick and attached to the ends are curved metallic blades for claws.

(sounds like a recipe of pain when manhandling a human version of a very pissed off cat...)

[mynameisnotthepoint]

Ossan no pantsu EP 3

Disclaimer: I had already watched this drama with subs that were mostly machine translated, so this is less of a first time reaction and more of an "i finally have the whole picture now". This will contain spoilers, so be warned!

As always: thank you to @isaksbestpillow for continuing to provide us with excellent subs to this drama!!

Quote (translation by isaksbestpillow) I believe that Kakeru is thinking of a way to connect with the rest of the world right now. Maybe you could start with supporting him on that journey. (Daichi to Makoto)

My jumbled thoughts/recap I love this building up frustration Kakeru and Makoto have with getting ready/rehearsing to get ready. I think this is also where I really noticed that Kakeru has grown out his hair, it has that choppy look of going from a few milimetres to like 10 cm (same length everywhere, which is what I have been doing for the past year, Kakeru's hair grows fast!). Kakeru seems to really be shedding his old life of baseball and typical boy stuff, but his room has this contrast between his bed, little table and coat rack with a few things that are really to his taste, while the rest of the room still holds the old "boyish" stuff from his childhood.

Makoto's style is truly that one from the "just own the same pants and shirt and jacket in several colors, that way you can mix and match!" videos. Him keeping the leather jacket from his youth, such a thing my stepdad did! (his jacket is still in good shape, though).

Kakeru's story of slowly inching back to the outside world and being percieved by people (especially people his age) is told with such care. Never is he made fun by the narrative, nor are his choice of clothing style or his interests ridiculed. (BTW, a few days ago i watched a fansub of 0.5 no Otoko about a reclusive gamer uncle who is forced to live with his sibling's family after living with his parents for a long time, it was really good!!).

I also love his outfits so much!!! (and look!! he made it outside!!)

From looking at Daichi and his interests, he doesn't seem the one to be most hellbent on following trends. Yet, because he is young, Makoto thinks he will know everything about the popular things with the youth. Later, he also has to call his wife to find a present that Daichi could give to his boyfriend's family. Makoto doesn't really trust his own judgement, is quick to try and help but never thinks if he actually knows how to. It also shows that he doesn't consider his wife's job that important, because he calls Mika several times during her shift for something he could have asked beforehand i.e. help w the present. He didn't even seem to know that she had returned to work after taking time off to look after their son. Mika is always holding back, stowing more sorrow and hurt away so she can serve people (at work, and at home...) with a smile on her face.

Daichi also never says his boyfriend's name, I've noticed. And the fact that he wants to make a good impression on parents that he might never get to meet is something that a lot of queer people have to deal with. Daichi knows what it is like to grow up different, knows what being queer means but also how it keeps you from doing certain things society expect you to do. I am so so glad that Kakeru has someone like Daichi in his life, and honestly also that Makoto can discuss things with Daichi, who has already faced the hurt but also experienced the joy of being queer (he has other queer friends! his mom accepts him!).

Makoto and Daichi talk about being transgender and the difference between men who like to wear women's clothes and who are attracted to women. Which, interestingly enough, Makoto knows someone! Harinishi also gives him a perspective on truly embracing who you are and wearing what you want, even buying it yourself because you want to know what the fabric feels like. Which makes me wonder - where did Kakeru get the clothes from? Did Mika or Moe buy them for him?

In the shop with Daichi, Makoto finds something that would fit Kakeru's current interests, but refrains from buying it after the shop assistant asks him if it's for his daughter. He is shown later in the episode buying it with pride for his son. Just like with the cakes in the first episode, if it is something Makoto can make someone else happy with and is made aware of, he can do it with pride. I think that is his strength, to realize that something is truly not working, find the better option, and change so he uses that option. He of course has huge foot in mouth syndrome, like when he tells Daichi's mom her son is wonderful and then adds it's almost a shame that he's gay...

But here lies the crux of Makoto's problems: He wants to help now, make decisions now. But that is just not possible when you don't know who you are and what you want! So the most important thing he has to learn is patience to let other figure it out and patience to listen when they eventually tell them their findings.

I love this loaf. (Also, i love that the TV program that is on is about Mika's favourite idol group).

[womblegrinch]

Eugène Boudin (1824-1898) - Venise, église San Giorgio

Oil on canvas. Painted in 1895.

14.4 x 21.9 inches, 36.5 x 55.5 cm. Estimate: US$400,000-600,000.

Sold Christie’s, New York, 21 Oct 2022 for US$655,200 incl B.P.

Part of the Ann & Gordon Getty Collection sold to benefit the Ann and Gordon Getty Foundation for the Arts. All lots appear to have been sold without reserve. This part of the collection (Old Masters, 19th and 20th Century paintings) is still available as a free pdf (103.3 MB). Simply pop the following into a new window:

dubdubdubdot   christies.com/PDF/catalog/2022/NYR21605_SaleCat.pdf

Once you’ve downloaded it, taking it down to 60% will give you a double-page view like with the actual catalogue. Just enlarge it to read the bits  you’re interested in. This might not apply if you’re not an old fogey like me. I've put up quite a few of these paintings so you can ignore this chunk of those posts. Go on, it’s a free art book!

[alsopartgekkos]

✣ 𝓔𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓪 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓹 ✣

Commonly known as Eula or Sharpy [if you're Garreth or don't value your life].

✣𝓑𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓬

Birthday: 26th of December.

Wand: Fir, 11 1/4 inches, Dragon heartstring, Reasonably Supple;

Amortentia: sagebrush, smoke and zest.

Boggart: dead family members;

Animagus form: none;

✣𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮

Height: 175 cm [5'8.9];

Hair color: natural black;

Eye color: brown;

Scars: her hands are particularly rough with small, barely distinguished scars all over the palms;

✣𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂

[headstrong - laid back - meticulous - gruffy - loyal]

From the younger days Eulalia was taught to be polite and self-sufficient. She was her first friend and could always occupy herself with something, most likely potion brewing. That has been her primary talent, coupled with acute sense of smell and strong determination: dreaming of becoming renewed potioneer came naturally to her. However Eula does not really rely on her talent or anything, she strongly believes in hard and continued work, as every result is consequence of effort, hence she would not end up where she is without putting her soul and mind to it. She's throughout to a fault, and on surface level it would seem that she follows rules and norms to a letter, however that's not true. She is not above, as any Gryffindor, to take risks when necessary.

Courageous and quite fearless, she's not above standing not only for her personal goals, but for other people too. Those who are in her inner circle can always count on her, those who are in need of her help will always receive it. [Gryffindor girls are like cubs to her, she'll protecc]Would not tolerate bullying in any form in her presence. On the other hand she wouldn't tolerate whining either.

Despite the initial image of her not too inviting, Eula is very observant: she'll know something is wrong, however she won't always act on her feelings. She will however act on her sharp tongue [pun intended], unfortunately she often does sound sarcastic. Many would find it off-putting, but lucky for them Eula does not really care. That goes for romantic attraction too, Eula naively thinks she's above that one too.

Likes: strong competition, sense of fulfilment, outings for ingredients, brewing potions, fireplaces, sun warmed pine wood, summer nights, picknics.

Dislikes: loud gatherings, being distracted and unable to concentrate, being belittled, bubotuber pus, burnt cauldrons, ignorance, bullying, Dark Magic.

Has a knack for: potion making [has been at it since age 4], gathering ingredients in ungodly places, killing spiders; [manhandling Weasley]

Fears: losing her passion;

Strives for: winning the the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship;

✣𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭

Known relatives:

Avian Sharp [father]; ministry official in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Improper Use of Magic Office;

Aesop Sharp [uncle]; former auror, Potions professor at Hogwarts;

Delilah Sharp [nee. Crouch] [mother]; a patron of arts and socialite;

Elija Sharp [younger brother]; a menace;

Grandparents: only grandmother from her mother's side.

The much awaited firstborn child, however a girl, growing up Eula was mostly in the care of the babysitters, as per very victorian way of handling a child. She was quiet and reserved child from the get go.

Sometimes Eula would sneak out and catch her mother brewing something; Delilah was a good potioneer, and it sure was passed down to her daughter. It was what inspired her to try and go to the cauldron.

Aesop was not a often guest due complicated history with Delilah, but when he attended family gatherings, he was one of the few persons to give his niece the very needed attention and it made her value his companionship and seek his approval later in life.

Once Eula was 6, she was kidnapped by dark wizards as form of revenge, fortunately her uncle and later her father rescued her. Since then she was kept a close eye on, and Eula herself was taught magical self-defence once she's got a wand.

Eula pretty much had set her eyes on becoming the potions master when she was about seven. Winning Wizarding Schools Potions Championship became her goal and she started memorising recipes from that time on;

She comes from a long line of Slytherins and everyone thought, that her passion - her ambition - as potion master would land her in the snake house. However what they did not know, that her desire to prove herself and sense of fearlessness easily got her sorted into Gryffindor.

Professor Sharp has been harder on her than on everybody else from day one precisely because every genius needs a lesson in humility.

In her first year Garreth tried to befriend her, showing off his creative concoctions, but she told him he was chopping his mallowsweet the wrong way. He thought she was unimpressed and a know-all. She thought he was overreacting. It was a misunderstanding. They became rivals.

They do not hate each other, as it might seem. She's just tired.

Due to her standoffish demeanor, she quickly got a "Sharp jr." reputation, students from other houses are often afraid to approach her. Gryffindors however are different story.

Her eyebags are vast: she is Gryffindors primary house point getter when it comes to mending the damage done in Potions Class.

People harmed by Garreth's brews always come to her for help and she never refuses to mend the damage. Hence the lack of sleep and irritation towards the Weasley.

Lucan has been bugging her for two years to join Crossed Wands, but she refuses, as it does not seem too worthy of time. She prefers to spar with her uncle instead of her peers.

Would have been a prefect, but it's too time consuming.

Never dreamt of becoming an Auror and will not, especially since her mother's strong aversion of this profession due her family history. Does not want to work at the Ministry either.

Has been successfully tutoring Ominis on her uncle's request and it has been an experience.

✣✣✣

Kat Stratford [10Things I Hate About you] | Wednesday Addams [The Addams Family] | Vannessa Ives [Penny Dreadful] | Annie Leonheart [Shingeki no Kyojin] | Aesop Sharp [bc I literally made her and said oh she looks like sharps niece, so that's it] | Shoko Ieiri [Jujutsu Kaisen]

[nofoxalive]

If you self-harm...

• Be aware of basic first-aid and have a well stocked first aid kit handy.

• Make sure you are up to date with your tetanus jab (check with your GP – you should have a tetanus vaccination every ten years). Tetanus is a serious infection.

• Avoid alcohol and drugs - being intoxicated might mean you cause more damage than you planned, and might affect your ability to react to an emergency.

• Don’t ever feel that you are unworthy of medical care, and try not to let the possible response of medical staff put you off seeking help – your health is more important.

• Take care of yourself - you might not feel like it at the time but may later be glad.

Seeking medical help

In an emergency call 999 and ask for an ambulance, or go straight to the nearest hospital's Emergency Department (A&E).

IMPORTANT! If you’re ever in ANY doubt as to how serious the injury is, always seek medical advice.

Seek medical attention if…..

• The blood is pumping – continue to apply pressure and call emergency services.

• The bleeding does not stop after 10 minutes of applying pressure.

• The cut is very large or very deep, or may require stitches

• There is a chance that nerves or tendons have been affected.

• You go into shock

• The injury is on a joint – this can cause long-term movement difficulties.

• Something is embedded (stuck) in the wound.

• The cut involves the mouth, face, hand or genitals.

• The cut does not heal properly.

• The cut shows signs of infection (it is red, sore, or painful, hard or has pus oozing out)

General advice

• Make sure anything you cut yourself with is clean; for example, use new blades.

• Think carefully about where you cut - avoid visible major blood vessels, tendons and nerves, such as the insides of the wrists or the tops of the legs.

• You are less likely to cause serious long-term damage if you cut slowly and do not cut deeply.

If you have a small cut, scratch or graze, you should:

1. Clean the wound with running water (avoid antiseptic lotions or creams).

2. Pat the area dry with clean, non-fluffy material.

3. Cover the cut completely with a sterile dressing or plaster.

For more serious cuts that bleed more, you should:

1. Apply direct pressure to the wound using a clean, non-fluffy pad or cloth. Apply the pressure for a good 10 minutes, and avoid lifting up the pad to look – give it a few minutes.

2. Raise the injured area (unless it is broken) above the level of the heart to slow down the bleeding.

3. Bandage the pad or dressing firmly to control bleeding, but not so tightly that it stops the circulation to fingers or toes.

4. Do not remove bandages as this can interfere with blood coagulation (when your blood cells clot together to seal the wound). If bleeding seeps through the first bandage, cover with a second bandage. If bleeding continues to seep through, remove the second bandage and reapply.

5. If you lose a lot of blood, you can go into shock. This can be very serious and needs medical attention.

If something is embedded (stuck) in the wound:

1. Leave it in place – don’t try to remove it as this may cause further bleeding.

2. Raise the body part if possible.

3. If you can, firmly push together the edges of the wound to try to stem blood loss.

4. Gently cover the wound and object with a sterile dressing if possible.

Your cut may need stitches if:

• The cut will not stop bleeding.

• The cut is more than ¼ of an inch or 1 cm long.

• The cut is gaping (i.e. the edges don’t stay together and you can see tissue or fat).

Burns and scalds

Seek medical attention if:

• If the burn is larger than a 50 pence piece, painful, charred (white) or seems to be getting worse.

• If the burn is on the face, hands, genitals or across the joints – burns to these areas can cause long-term movement problems.

• If the burn is chemical.

If you have a minor burn, you should:

1. Hold the burn under cold, slowly running water for 10 minutes.

2. Chemical burns, for example from strong cleaning fluids, should be rinsed under cold, slowly running water for 20 minutes. Never try to neutralise the chemical by adding an acid chemical to an alkaline chemical or vice versa – seek medical advice instead.

3. If you can easily remove jewellery or clothing in the area of the burn, gently do so.

The burnt area may swell up and/or become sticky and attached to clothing or jewellery. However, if clothing or jewellery is already stuck to the burn, or cannot be removed without touching the burn, leave it alone and seek medical advice.

4. Do not apply any creams, oils, grease, butter, ointments, adhesive dressings or cotton wool. Cling film can be used to loosely cover the burn and prevent infection.

5. If the burn is painful, taking 1-2 pain killers can help.

6. Never interfere with the burn or break any blisters – this will delay the healing.

Poisoning and overdoses

Seek urgent medical attention if:

• You have overdosed on substances or medication, or ingested toxic (poisonous) substances. Contact Poison control centers or the Emergency department if you are unsure if what you have taken is an overdose. You might feel physically well, but the effects of an overdose can be delayed and fatal.

If you have taken an overdose or poisoned yourself, you should:

• Seek help immediately – the longer you leave it, the greater the likelihood of serious damage.

• Write down what medication you’ve taken, including the number of tablets and dosage, and also if you have drunk any alcohol.

• Take the packaging and any remaining medication with you to the Emergency Department (A&E).

• If you have called an ambulance or other help, consider leaving your door unlocked so that they can get in if you lose consciousness.

• Don’t try to make yourself vomit – this can be dangerous.

• Don’t drive yourself to hospital. If you are too unwell to use public transport, call an ambulance.

©BBC Health - www.bbc.co.uk/health/first_aid/index.shtml, LifeSIGNS self-injury guidance and support network www.selfharm.org, Mind information line, tel: 0845 7660 163 web: www.mind.org.uk, NHS Direct – www.nhsdirect.nhs.uk, Royal College of Psychiatrists information leaflet on self-harm www.rcpsych.ac.uk, St John’s Ambulance – www.sja.org.uk and © Better Services for People who Self-Harm 2007