#hes so shapes... this is wonderful. great job op <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[trubbishrubbish]

can we see a tierlist of how useful you find each character in battle?? curious who you’ve ended up using the most !! :)

Sure why not! I don't think I'll make a tier list as all the units are useful for some function in battle so I will instead list every unit and describe what I think of them in combat.

Spoilers for post 100 days

Takumi: A good all-arounder for horizontal and vertical sweeps and one powerful strike. His special attack was already good but when it got the blue upgrade it became even better.

Takemaru: Early battles, he's good for killing small enemies but late in the game when I have more units to kill small enemies, I stopped relaying on Takemaru for small fry kills. I only use him for his "Eat This!" attack as it's strong and his special attack is great for clearing row of baddies, but that's all i use him for. I unlocked "Put 'Em Up!" But I never used it once because I thought the enrage buff was not helpful.

Hiruko: I love her in the story and I love her in combat. Her Specialist Skill is godly. Just use a spring trap, launch her into the middle of a scrap and have her clean house. No wonder Eito got rid of her. The first 100 days would have been to easy otherwise. Eito did it for game balances purposes, how nice of him.

Darumi: To be honest, I'm not a Darumi master in combat. She is a tricky character to use as her attacks are weak so she's really best with small fry, but her Specialist Skill does provide for some extra damage, so you have to plan with Darumi. I do love her animations and voice lines and everything about her. "It's Killing Game Time!" Iconic.

Eito: My replacement for Hiruko as the power character. Judge, Jury and Executioner are all really good attacks and the square size his Special Attack has is so good. His Specialist Skill tho I can give or take. Sometimes it's helpful in a cinch but most of the time it doesn't do much.

Tsubasa: "Locked and loaded!" I love it when she says that. I wish people didn't underestimate Tsubasa just because her attack is 1. The 2x6 range is really freaking good. She can kill many small fry and giving her an attack boost, she can take down larger enemies really fast. Plus her immunity to fatigue is soooooo good, it's almost OP. She was MVP for the Egg Commander fight. I don't really use her Deadlights and Accelerate move much.

That actually applies to all other units attack buffing skills. I never really use them for my allies, i prefer using items and Boosts for that.

Gaku: ...I don't like him. The range of his main weapon is at such an awkward shape. It's not a square, it's this triangle thing and I can never get more then 3 enemies in that range. Plus it's weak, Tsubasa can kill more enemies than Gaku can due to how enemies move on the field. Also I hate the checkerboard range of his special attack, I can never get a good formation of enemies that has lots of them in those squares. He just kinda sucks. At least his Vertical attack is ok.

Ima: Special Misconduct. Unyielding Spirit. Those two passives can make Ima into a POWERHOUSE. Add in his good range of attacks and high mobility, he is a damn good combat unit. Shame his Special Attack range is kinda small.

Kako: The sniper, a powerful long range attack, drone strike an even a close range nuke, Kako is a great combat unit. There's just one small problem with her. Her fucking attack debuff. I hate that debuff so much, why does it exist? Would she have been overpowered if she didn't have it? I don't think so? I also don't like her special attack range. I barely use it.

Shouma: The short king of killing small fry. That is all to him but he does such a damn good job at it that that is all he needs. But wait! He gets more! His Omega Punch is super strong thanks to his Specialist Skill and if you have Nozomi near him to heal his stuns, he is a monster. AND THE RANGE OF HIS SPECIAL ATTACK? That is hands down the best special attack in the game. Takumi's is stronger yes, but the range Shouma's gives it a massive leg up.

Nozomi: A healer who can kick some ass. Her Paralyze Bullet is surprisingly really good at sniping enemies and keeping stronger enemies from attacking. (She's a better long ranger attack than Kako is tbh.) Plus her healing. Like, that is very good no question. I only go on explorations during free time when I have Nozomi with me. I need her healing to deal with the rng bs that mode has. I do hate when the story at points prevents me from using Nozomi but that's not related to her combat abilities.

Oosuzuki: She...kinda sucks lol. Her mobility is very good but I don't send her out to kill enemies, it be pointless to as Oosuzuki's base healing Specialist Skill and turrets encourages you to keep her at the generator. Her attack is useful in a pinch but nothing special. I hate the small range of her turrets and wished they could hit more enemies. And her Special Attack? Ha ha...worst one in the game. it is garbage. three bombs in a row that do the same damage as a normal bomb and you need an enemy to detonate it. And the ai in this game is very annoying when it comes to bombs. You have to put it in the right spot or else they will walk right past it. If it wasn't for base healing, Oosuzuki would be near worthless in battle.

Kyoshika: Glory to Kyoshika.

Yugamu: He's ok. Good for killing groups of enemies and sometimes large threats but you need to use a bit more AP than normal to get him going. Without Darumi and Eito, his Special Attack has some great range so I always use him to clear large groups.

Moko: Just like with Shouma's Omega punch, pair Moko Shooter with Nozomi's heal and you have quite a powerhouse. I wish she had a bigger range with her main attack but it can get the job done fine. My only issue with Moko is her Mokomania. I get that they want me to set it up like how Shouma does his attack, but Shouma has a move that attracts enemies to him while Moko doesn't. I have to find a position where I can guarantee that enemies will attack her and not just walk past her to the generator. Also, it's really annoying how Mokomania can add reflet, +2 armor and +1 attack but it still leaves you fatigued. You have to use an agility item or waste AP to reap that +1 attack boost. So yeah, Moko is good in combat but she is not my fav, I'll take Hiruko over her if I had to choose.

Eva: ...Ugh. Putting aside the whole brainwashed slave plot, (a fucking wild thing to say) I find her pretty good in combat. Her Specialist Skill is really good and easy to abuse and the range of her attacks are amazing. Her Special Attack I'm eh about but her kit overall is very solid. I do feel very VERY guilt and uncomfortable that she is this strong and I can use her in combat. Like...She was just...Ugh. What the fuck is this game.

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Like I said, I already wrote 2 chapters, and this is the second one, called "The Death-way"

Page 5 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 2:

A fine trader finds upon his path a great Beast,

Dark and terrible, unsated by battles long and fierce,

Armor fallen, wounded by fangs, lays a final time,

Under the malefactor, you will not see life,

The trader leaves the harsh thing, he laments,

Then walks a path, which beasts cannot bear.

A maiden finds upon her path a fearsome Beast,

Eyes spat flames, fangs reach for heavens,

Perishes all surroundings, small birdsongs and prey,

All bow to the daemon, a creature of pain,

The maiden returns, from whence she came,

On her lips nothing more, but words of pray.

It was an extraordinary thing - shaped for fighting, a strong, solid body, adorned with black. It blends into the night, its enemies wouldn’t see the shadow until it was too late. It was perfected in battle, forged from the worst humanity has to offer.

Its name was the Ghost. A weapon to be picked up and discarded as needed.

And he is needed tonight - to kill a target, and collect intel. Covert, solo op. His speciality.

Ghost silently sneaks across rooftops, nimbly avoiding the cracking shingles. His CO for the mission didn’t give him much info on the target themselves, but they had plenty on their location. If he’s honest, the whole thing has an air of wrongness to it, and it all starts and ends with the person commending him.

“The Hunter”. Virtually nothing is known about the commander - not that Ghost has really tried looking into it. He doesn’t concern himself with a temporary arrangement. If he researched every odd fuck he encountered, he’ll never have time to actually do the damn job.

It is a little off-putting that the Hunter seems to try and copy Ghost. Specifically, in the mask department. Blood-red skull mask, with a jaw and all. If the Hunter wasn’t paying well, Ghost would’ve ripped that thing right off their face.

He feels like it’s taunting him. Mocking him.

Ghost exhales, ridding himself of all thoughts but those pertaining the mission. He unpacks his sniper rifle, provided by the Hunter, and sets up on a high roof. The roof overviews the building his target is in. The city is quiet, almost unnaturally so, but as it helps the mission, Ghost doesn’t complain.

All he needs to do now is wait.

As he does, he can’t help but wonder again about this strange mission.

Several days earlier

“Ghost”, a soldier calls beside the Hunter. “Right on the dot. I guess the rumors about your professionalism aren’t unfounded, are they?”

Ghost doesn’t grace the man with a response, instead glaring at the Hunter. The person is about his height, tactical gear marked with red streaks making them look imposing. Ghost thinks it looks a little tacky. 

“You got the brief, I assume?” the soldier asks. Ghost nods, taking his eyes off the Hunter to inspect the racket around him. Soldiers carrying boxes upon boxes of ammunition, guns, and gear. It makes him squint.

What kind of mission are they going to that needs this much preparations? He thought they’re going to a civilian city, not an active war zone.

The soldier draws his attention back, “we will infil you in 3 days. We have accommodations for you on base-”

“That won’t be necessary.” Ghost drawls. Hell will freeze over before he bunks down in a foreign base.

The soldier sputters, opening his mouth to argue, but the Hunter stops him. They exchange hushed words, and the soldier relents, “as long as you’re here when the helo takes off, we don’t care where you are.”

Ghost sharply nods. At least someone here has a bit of common sense. “And Ghost?” The soldier calls behind him.

“We’re very glad you’re here.”

Ghost doesn’t look back, but he can feel the physical weight of the Hunter’s gaze on him. It makes his spine shiver in a way things really don’t do, not after what he’s become.

This whole business reeks. Better finish this quick and clean.

The target entered the house 6 minutes ago. Ghost watches the lights turn on in various rooms as they walk around, unaware of the man that haunts them. The target isn’t in his sight just yet, but Ghost can be quite patient.

A light turns on at a bedroom facing his position, and Ghost moves his scope to its window. A few moments later, a middle-aged man enters, taking off his coat. He seems a little frazzled, Ghost absentmindedly notes.

Ghost inhales, lines up the shot, and pulls the trigger on exhale.

The man drops dead on his second step into the room. Ghost leaves the sniper rifle on the roof, and jumps down to the balcony of the target’s building. Stepping around the broken glass, intending to leave no traces of himself in the scene.

They don’t call him a ghost for nothing.

He spares a glance to the target. If it weren’t for the clean bullet hole in his forehead, he would’ve looked like he’s just sleeping. Ghost moves on.

Searching the house yields no results - and an irritation begins to rise within him. The Hunter’s sources were wrong, it seems. Ghost is about to radio it in when multiple soldiers enter the house from the ground floor.

He waits until the Hunter and their communicator climb up to level them a glare, “your intel was a bust. There’s nothing here.”

The Hunter glances down at the body between them, and back up at him. They tilt their head, examining Ghost. For what, he’s not sure-

There are eyes at the back of his head. Guns pointed at him. Ghost swings around.

Nothing. The soldiers are busy ransacking the house for any drop of information.

The communicator’s voice makes him turn again, “it seems so, unfortunately. Either way, you’ve done your part.”

The shifting behind him stops.

It feels wrong it feels wrong he needs to get out.

“Thank you for your service, Ghost.”

The Hunter dashes at him, lightning quick as they grab his neck. Ghost tries to retaliate, but hands come from behind to restrain him.

Betrayal. How could he be so bloody stupid.

The Hunter sinks a sharp needle into his pale flesh, cold metal squeezing a freezing liquid into his bloodstream.

Poison.

Ghost manages to release one arm, punching the Hunter, feeling his knuckles burst open on the sharp mask.

He puts distance between himself and the several soldiers trying to grab him again, pushing the Hunter forward.

They’re not shooting, he frantically realizes. They want him alive.

He can’t. Not again. GET OUT.

Ghost growls as he gives a final push, toppling both him and the Hunter over the balcony railing and onto the cold harsh ground.

The body beneath him crashes with a sickening crack, Ghost wasting no time, taking out their pistol and spinning to shoot a few heads.

Soldiers fall around him, the ground painted red, and Ghost pushes off the Hunter to run.

Horrifyingly, he knows the commander isn’t dead. And he damn well knows they won’t stop until they have him.

It comes and goes in waves, Ghost discovers in the next few hours. Sometimes, he feels completely fine. And others… his left arm is barely functional, certainly not enough to hold a pistol.

He hates every second of it. Hates that he can’t predict when his arm will suddenly become useless.

It… scares him.

The Hunter’s soldiers are killing everything in their path. Ghost doesn’t understand why they bother. Why go through the effort to kill all civilians, when they don’t even want to kill him?

The only thing that makes sense here is what they would do with him. Ghost knows too much, is too valuable to discard. If they catch him, nothing but torture waits in Ghost’s future.

He hears nearby screaming. Time to move again.

Ghost has been trying to rest, to slow the spread of the poison as much as possible, but the endless waves of hostiles keep pushing him out of the abandoned houses he holes down in. Right now, he can’t even begin to think of a way to get an antidote, not when he has no allies anymore.

And the fact the poison might paralyze him, leaving him unable to move but so achingly conscious as soldiers find him…

He can’t think about it right now.

He sneaks out of the back door, careful but hurried as he speeds to the next.

Scanning around him, the coast appears clear. Ghost slowly pushes the door open, when he hears a clank. A hiss of a smoke follows it, instantly filling the narrow hallway with thick haze. 

What the fuck…? This is not the work of the Hunter, why would he set such a stupid trap-

Ghost grunts when something catches his ankle, lifting him off the ground, “FUCKIN’ HELL-”

He swings up, dangled off of the ceiling by a wire. Ghost frowns when he notices what the trap is made of - junk and odd household appliances. 

The stairs creak as someone steps down. Ghost tries to make out the silhouette, but the man is still in shadow.

“If ye want to live, ye better start fuckin’ talking. Who sent you here, and what are yer orders?!”

Ghost blinks. His attacker is… Scottish?

The man steps into the light - built, but wearing civilian clothes, now marred with blood and mud, with the stupidest haircut he’s ever seen. But that doesn’t interest him as much as the rifle he’s currently pointing at him.

The man snarls, “answer me!”

He thinks he’s losing it a little, when Ghost has to suppress an urge to laugh. This entire day was such a fuckin’ shitshow, and now he has to deal with a Scottish bastard that apparently specialises in crafting traps right out of Indiana Jones.

“I’m not with them.” Ghost eventually breathes.

That makes the man lower the gun, “the fuck is a Brit doin’ here?”

Ghost would’ve leveled him with a deadpan if his body didn’t swing around again, hiding his face from the man, “the fuck��s a Scot doing here?”

The man huffs, “aye, suppose I should’ve expected that. Yer military?”

Ghost considers his answer for a moment. “Affirm. SAS.” he feels the blood rushing to his head uncomfortably, “you?”

“Ex-military.” The man says almost bitterly, “SAS too.”

Ex-military? Interesting… “Rank?”

The man steps around to face him, “Sergeant- the fuck are ye wearing?”

Ghost looks the man up and down (well, down and up in his current predicament), “a mask, Sergeant. They discharged you for being blind?”

The Sergeant squints, “I’m perfectly fit, ye weapon. Got booted out.” He lets the rifle rest by the strap, “ye a Sergeant as well?”

At that, Ghost does smirk, not that the man would be able to tell, “Lieutenant. Now, care to let me off your bloody contraption?”

The Sergeant startles like he forgot about that, before pulling out a knife and cutting the wire. Ghost almost falls on his head, getting his arms under him just in time.

“Fuckin’ bastard…” Ghost glares at him.

The fucker actually grins down at him, offering a hand that Ghost bats away, “So, what was yer mission here?”

Ghost straightens his back, now towering over the Sergeant, “was working under a commander named “The Hunter” to take down a target. They stabbed me in the back.” the man’s face darkens.

“Why are they killing civilians then?” 

Ghost cracks his neck, “don’t know. Was trying to get outta dodge when your bloody trap got me.” he walks forward to examine it. Looked damn convoluted. This man is surprisingly resourceful…

The man follows, “been stuck in this city for three days. Tried to get intel, caught you instead.”

Ghost stares at him. Why didn’t he run away?

Doesn’t matter. Ghost is not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Sergeant might be his ticket out of here.

He takes out the pistol he stole from the Hunter, “you still know how to shoot?”

The man makes an offended noise, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Good.” Ghost clicks the clip back after check how much bullets he had left, “on me, Sergeant.”

The Sergeant sputters, “what?”

Ghost puts on his commending tone, “we’re going to get out of here, call for backup, and finish off the Hunter. I’m broken, so I’ll need someone on my six.”

He looks down at him, “unless you got a better plan?”

The man sighs, pouting like a child. He offers a hand to shake, and Ghost reluctantly takes it. He has to play with the team for now.

“Soap.” the man says as he lets go.

The fuck’s kinda callsign is Soap? “Ghost.” he grumbles.

Soap grins, “really going hard with the Halloween vibe, eh?”

Ghost sighs, “Take point, Sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

As they walk out of the house, covering each other’s six, Ghost can’t help but feel a sort of sickness within him.

The stab in the back, the callsigns and ranks, the fuckin’ handshakes and introductions…

This is a song and dance he went through a long time ago.

And he doesn’t know if he’ll survive an encore.

[cyborg-franky]

Hiiii my little pineapple l tidbit, I was wondering if you'd please do some headcanons about some op characters reacting to a "nonstandadard op woman" body type for a gn afab reader? Like a reader with chub and rolls and stretch marks. ❤️ Thank you

Yessss.

Also these headcannons aren't designed to make people who aren't 'bigger/plus size' feel bad these are just for encouragement for others and so everyone can feel nice <3

Ace

- Boobs are boobs, big or small, male-bodied or female-bodied. Ace is a fan of every boob and would be happy to plant his face between them.

- Because he’s so scrawny/no meat he likes to cuddle up to someone squishy.

- He doesn’t really see your lumps and bumps as something ‘bad’ just part of you and doesn’t understand when you dislike them.

- He also loves to grab an ass, all asses are good asses.

Marco

- He loves legs of all shapes and sizes.

- Doesn’t matter if your thighs are thick and dimply as long as they feel nice on his face.

- He likes being able to grip your thighs, grab your ass, enjoying when his large hands feel full.

- When you feel down about yourself, he’ll cheer you up.

- Complimenting you every chance he gets.

- Just out of the blue “You look lovely today yoi.”

Thatch

- Thatch will always be rubbing your tummy, he loves how you feel.

- Likes to rest his face on your soft bits.

- Makes cute little puns about your ‘rolls’ and works on taking away any negative connotations, making you feel good about yourself.

- He has a little bit of a tummy himself and he’ll always jiggle his and pat it giving you a grin, being proud of it.

- “Can’t have you skinny, means I’m not doing a good job at cooking right?” He says with a chuckle.

Corazon

- He’s covered in scars from various places, he was once self-conscious about them.

- So he understands how you’d feel about your stretch marks and blemishes.

- He’d trace over the marks like you would his scars.

- Kissing them and making you feel like every part of you was perfect.

- Every ‘imperfection’ is just part of you and he loves it, because he loves you.

Law

- He doesn’t see ‘cosmetic’ standards really.

- Everyone is just a body with organs.

- He just cares about your personality.

- When he’s kissing you and you flinch, feeling a little self-conscious about a certain bump or mark he’ll give you a confused look.

- His genuine confusion to why you dislike that part of yourself makes you feel like it doesn’t matter to him, he loves you for you.

Sabo

- He has scars, a lot of them

- He doesn’t judge you for your marks.

- You are both there to pick one another up when it comes to self-esteem.

- He does like a good bum, big, small, flat.

- Sabo would use your ass as a pillow if he could get away with it.

- A fan of feeling weight on top of him, makes him feel safer.

Buggy

- He loves to grab someone’s chubby bits.

- loves how his hands leave indents, makes him feel powerful.

- Always grabbing a thick thigh, a plush ass and loves all breasts.

- He has things he’s very self-conscious about and knows when you need a pick me up about certain things.

- You know he finds you attractive from how he can’t keep his hands off you, how jealous he can get when anyone looks your way.

Rayleigh

- Curves of any shape are his favourite.

- He’s a sucker for big hips.

- Likes to grab them when you’re just standing there.

- Wraps his arms your hips often as he kisses your lumps and bumps.

- Running his hands over your stretch marks, tracing patterns, and mumbling how beautiful/wonderful you are.

Zoro

- Does not see ‘fat’ ‘ugly’ ‘too much ass’ you are just a person that he likes to look at.

- “Heavy?” He says eyeing you up when you feel bad about your weight.

- Effortlessly lifts you up and chuckles to himself as you swot at him.

- “One-handed, heavy? Nah.” He sets you down and ruffles your hair.

- “Just right.” he says with a firm nod.

Luffy

- Soft and warm, he just sees you as comfortable.

- Great at hugs, nice to hold.

- He doesn’t see anything wrong with you.

- When you feel bad about your stretch marks he just points to all his scars.

- “I have the same.” He said with a shrug.

- “Does that make me ugly?” You can’t even explain to him how they are different, but the sentiment is so nice.

[shadowed-dancer]

My Thoughts on the New MHA Opening and Ending

I have thoughts, and I will share them because oh boy if I don’t get this out I’m gonna explode

Vague Spoilers for the manga (up to chapter 258 and vigilantes) because I discuss the upcoming arcs, but I don’t discuss any major plot points in detail. Still, proceed with caution if you’re anime only

Keep in mind, this OP and ED will cover the Endeavour Agency Arc and the MVA Arc, so I will be judging them accordingly.

First, the OP

This is a good OP... in theory (that’s going to become my catchphrase for this post). It’s nice to look at and flows pretty well, but my biggest problem is that it doesn’t do it’s job. An OP is supposed to be a sort of... summary (?) of the Cour it plays for. That means any cool plot points, emotional beats, and important characters should be featured in some way, shape, or form. We’ll talk about that more later, but first let’s discuss the music.

The song is really good. I have a feeling it will continue to grow on me as I listen to it more often, but yeah my first impression is that the song sounds great. My only complaint about the music itself is that it ends kind of abruptly (I noticed this is the JT opening too). The previous openings used to have a bit of instrumental to “play us out” and lead us to the end card, but this one feels like it ends very suddenly and unnaturally.

As for the visuals...

Yeah alright I’ll admit, the visuals are stunning... in theory. I appreciate the variety in backgrounds and colours, it makes the OP really interesting to look at. This was actually one of my biggest problems with the JT Opening, it all took place on the training grounds, so there was no variety (everything was metal tubes with a blue sky, with only 3 shots set somewhere different). I appreciate the style of this OP.

But like I said, that’s only in theory, as in, through screenshots these are all pleasing to look at. The pacing of this OP is wild, and I truly don’t know who to blame for this.

That sunset shot above? It lasts approximately 12 seconds, zooming in every few to make it seem like something is happening (when in reality it’s still the same poses, angles, etc). While there’s nothing wrong with a nice, drawn out shot, it becomes irritating when compared to the pacing of the rest of this op.

At the 41 second mark, we are given the shot above. It has flowed directly from the previous sunset scene. We still have not moved away from the image of the trio (aside from the opening shot and the title card) yet we’re approaching the halfway mark of the OP.

The next shot is the MLA, which lasts about 5 seconds. Ok, perfect. Not too long, but also not short enough to be confusing. It cuts away a little fast once the dude on the far left appears, but does anyone actually know who that is? No, seriously, I’m asking. I don’t remember his name and he’s not on the wiki, so I can only assume he’s not important. Therefore, it’s not all that bad if the shot cuts away shortly after he comes into frame. The audience is able to take in the scene without having to pause...

... And then the problems start

While this shot is fine in theory, it pans up fast and  cuts away quickly. You know how hard it was for me to get this screenshot? Really hard. You want to know why I struggled so much? Because, due to the timing of the cut and the way it pans upwards, it’s almost impossible to pause on Dabi’s face. I literally had to go frame by frame to get it, because he’s in shot for so little time that naturally pausing is guaranteed to miss him.

When watching this in real time (without pausing) the cut away makes you feel as if you missed something because “something was there, I just couldn’t register what because now it’s gone”. Unlike Compress, who wears a very colourful coat you can recognize the entire time, Dabi’s pants are more blended into the background.

It also doesn’t help that this shot is literally composed to draw your attention away from Dabi until the last possible second. Due to framing, your eye is naturally drawn to the brightly coloured Toga in the foreground, making it super easy to miss Dabi in the back (until, of course, his bright face appears and contrasts against the background, drawing your eye just in time for the scene to change, leaving you to wonder who or what you missed).

I know this sounds like nitpicking, but this shot is the only group shot we get of the League, and is also the start of a seriously weird trend for the villains in this OP getting the short end of the stick.

Anyways, then we get what I’ll call “The Carousel Shot” in which every Class 1A kid shows up and poses dramatically, as if they were on a carousel. It’s a lovely sequence and I really enjoy watching it but... why is it in this OP?

Seriously, this is a genuine question. Class 1A barely shows up in the Endeavour Agency Arc, and NONE of the students are in MVA. This sequence (not counting the three boys at the end) lasts 8 seconds. Why is this much time dedicated to characters who are barely in the arc? (Unless Studio Bones extends their work studies into fuller plot lines which oh my gosh please don’t do that, or if they do, do it quick).

We then get what I call the “Oh God I Blinked And Missed Everything” sequence, which lasts 3 seconds (not including the longer, moving shot of Shigaraki at the end) and features NINE INDIVIDUAL IMAGES, none of which are related to each other. Not only is this 3 images per second, but the fact that they are all unrelated means you can’t even use previous information to fill in the blanks.

What do I mean by that? Well, imagine if I show you 9 images of various pro heroes posing. If I play that in 3 seconds you’ll absolutely miss some of them, but as long as you catch some you’ll still get an idea of what I’m trying to show to you. Your brain is able to fill in the gaps that “I recognized 4 pro heroes, therefore the rest must have also been pros” even if you didn’t register every single frame.

That doesn’t work if every frame features a completely different subject. The shots in this sequence vary so widely that it’s impossible to find a through line. Some feature multiple characters, some feature one, some are closeups, some are super far away, some are character’s we know, others are characters we don’t. It’s impossible to get a solid read on what you’re being shown.

Now, again, there’s nothing wrong with these super quick shots... in theory. The problem comes from the fact that these shots are the only indicators for some of the major themes that will be explored during this Cour (like Twice’s growth and young Shigaraki).

That being said, let’s move away from criticism and talk about speculation, because hidden amongst this sequence are two... interesting images.

This All Might one is very reminiscent of the shot in Chapter 257, where Aizawa and All Might have a conversation while staring up at the stars. However, this is technically the start of the “War Arc” (or the “prologue”, if that’s what you want to call it), so this might indicate that we’re going to get farther into the series than a lot of us guessed.

(Many people suspected we’d get to that cliffhanger at the start of the season (if you read the manga you know the one), but after seeing the pacing for JT a lot of us assumed we’d be lucky to even finish Endeavour Agency. It seems we’re back to the cliffhanger now though lol). 

This is another really interesting shot because it’s indicative of Shirakumo, meaning we might get to see Aizawa and Mic confront him some time this Cour (this also makes sense, since this confrontation technically happens before that All Might scene I mentioned in the previous paragraph).

But the cat specifically is a really strange addition. That cat is named Sushi and, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think Sushi is ever mentioned in the main series. I think he’s only in Vigilantes.

This might just be a little Easter Egg for Vigilante readers, but I’m personally hoping that they’ll add at least a few Vigilante shots in there to really tug at the heart strings. I’d say I want a whole Vigilante episode but I don’t think they have the time (unless they really cram MVA, which I do NOT want).

I don’t have much to say about the last bit of the OP. The action shot between the 3 boys was nice, and it follows the sort of narrative through line they established from the early shot of them sitting at the sunset. I also like the shot of Endeavour fading in to replace All Might, even if it’s very simple.

But I want to talk about an overarching problem I touched upon earlier in that villain shot: the way the villains are handled in this OP.

This is a good OP... in theory. The problem is, it doesn’t represent half the arcs in the cour! Every shot of the League is so rushed that you can barely register that they were on screen before they’re gone.

I have no idea how many Episodes Endeavour Agency will take, but I’d assume 3 (4 if you count the Christmas episode). 12 episodes for this Cour minus 3 for Endeavour Agency = 9 episodes left. If we truly do get the prologue for the War Arc (and if we assume it’s only 1 episode) that leaves us with 8 villains episodes.

8/12 episodes (aka two thirds of the Cour) will likely be about the villains. And yet they’re pushed to the background so hard in this OP.

I want to dream, and I want to believe that this OP is going to magically change when MVA starts. The song fits super well, and I can imagine like an inversion of the OP but from the Villain side! Wouldn’t that be neat? Imagine right after the “it’s alright” part Shigaraki just freaking decays the title card... oh man that would be so cool. But, alas, I highly doubt they’d do that.

Side rant, but you know what was so fun about MVA in the manga? It’s that, for 21 chapters, we leave the kids behind and the villains become our protagonists. Suddenly Shigaraki is the one we’re rooting for, suddenly we’re learning backstories for everyone, and suddenly we find ourselves just as attached to the villains as we are to the kids. It’s an inversion that’s SO RARE to find, and I think many people (myself included) were hoping it would be reflected in the OP.

A big part of being the protagonist means featuring heavily in the OP, and a lot of us just wanted the villains to get that honour, even if only once. As is, the OP still treats them as the antagonists when... really they aren’t. Not right now, at least.

So yeah, final thoughts on the OP are that it’s good, it’s just not very representative of the arcs it’s supposed to cover. If this was just for Endeavour Agency, I’d say it’s actually really cool, but if we assume that this is what will play for the Villain Arc, then it simply doesn’t do it’s job. And it makes me sad to say that because, again, this OP is really well done.

If I had to rate it? Hmmm

If Studio Bones actually grants my wish and creates a different visual for the Villain Arc (while using the same song) and then this version only plays for the Endeavour Agency Arc and the War Prologue? I’d give it an 8/10. It’s really good, but it could use a few more elements that are clearly derived from the Agency Arc (ahem, Todoroki siblings).

But if this is the OP that will play for the entire Cour? a 6.5/10. It’s nice, but it’s not representative of one of the arcs it’s going to cover. And, unlike other arcs like Pro Hero or Summer Exams, the villain Arc is so important and takes up so much time that it honestly feels like a bit of a disservice.

Now for the Ending

I want to say that I appreciate how soft this ending starts. This cour will likely feature a lot of episodes that end on... heavier themes, and I think the sight of peaceful, falling raindrops is the perfect way to let the audience process their emotions before starting the ending in earnest.

The song itself is very nice, and I like that it’s a bit slower than the more recent endings.

(Side note, but the FUNNIEST moment in the entire series is when Sir Nighteye dies because it’s so emotional and everyone is standing around his bed in his heartwrentching silence, only for the ending to come BLARING IN out of no where. If you forgot how jarringly hilarious it was, go listen to the Eri ending and tell me that’s not the funniest thing this series ever did. Anyways yeah I’m glad that’s not gonna happen this Cour).

This ending is a bit all over the place in terms of it’s visuals, but honestly I think it works. Most endings usually have a theme tying them together (all the Class 1A girls, a fantasy AU, old photographs, planning a party, etc) but this ending’s theme is a bit harder to identify.

That being said, I think it’s just supposed to show everyone going about their day. It’s calm, it’s peaceful, and it’s just very sweet to think about

I like this shot. Actually, scratch that, I like this whole sequence. I enjoy anything that allows Class 1A to chill and have fun.

Hawks is featured quite heavily in this ending which, fair. He’s pretty important in this arc.

I really love the shot where Endeavour immediately switches to Hawks, I thought that was a lot of fun, and very good symbolism on how Hawks wants to be like Endeavour. I also love all the shots of Baby Hawks, because it’s adorable.

Something about this shot is just so cute. It’s the little domestic things like waiting for a bus that make this ending feel... idk the word, real? It shows a side of the characters that we’ll never see in the episodes, but we know have to exist.

Like yes, of course the kids have to wait for the bus. We never see it, but of course there are those moments of quiet. Agh, I love it.

The villains also make an appearance and I’m very happy about that (I’d love to see more of the villains just chilling around, I think they deserve it). I kind of wish they weren’t sitting in a dark room for the sake of being edgy, since I think it would be nice to see the villains just... sort of existing, but honestly it’s still a nice shot. I also like how this shot sort of mirrors the first one with Class 1A (someone coming in while everyone else is sitting and waiting for them).

That being said, as much as I love looking at Dabi and his stupid face (affectionate)... why is Dabi the one getting the closeup?

Mind you, endings don’t need to be connected to their Cours (they can be, like the Eri one, but they don’t have to be). But this ending does seem to be connected to the arcs it intends to cover, given all the Hawks appearances, the boys wearing their work study scarves, etc.

So, I ask again, why Dabi? Out of the six League members, we learn the backstory for four of them in this arc (Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, and we very briefly learn about Spinner). The only two left out are Dabi and Compress.

I can only assume they chose Dabi because he’s constantly in contact with Hawks, and therefore that makes him important? If the OP told us anything, it’s that Bones values the Endeavour Agency Arc over the Villain Arc lol...

... Oh my gosh please tell me that’s not actually the reason Dabi is focused on here BONES WAI-

Anyways, the ending comes to a close with Hawks watching over the kids and Endeavour. The relaxing time is done, it’s time for work studies.

Overall impression? It’s great. It’s hard to screw up an ending, so as long as you have something pretty on screen, it’s wonderful.

I’ll give this a 9/10

[wkemeup]

Guiding Light (3)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7.1k warnings: nightmares, angst™ 🖤series masterlist

Bucky didn’t move for nearly an hour before Steve and Natasha found him curled up against that wall. Forehead pressed the thick glass barrier that had kept you from him, stare glazed over, unblinking. His body so numb he could hardly move.

He didn’t register Steve rush at him, skidding on his knees to press his fingers  painfully to Bucky’s pulse point or the violent shake of his shoulders as his friend begged him to say something, to tell him what happened, to answer him goddamnit because the way he sat so unmoving, unresponsive, the red seep of blood upon the open wound at his stomach, Steve thought for a moment he might be dead.

He might as well have been.

Natasha paced back and forth, eyes darting down the long hallway and spotting the dirt layered handprints on the other side of the wall, the skid marks on the tile left behind by your boots.

“Steve,” she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, lips pressed tight together to hold in the cry etching through her spine as she nodded towards the end of the hall. 

Steve narrowed his eyes, catching onto the fragments you’d left behind and slumped over in realization.

“Oh God.”

***

Bucky sat at the end of a long conference table back the compound less than eight hours later and he could barely get his thoughts to form a straight line. Every image in his brain replayed the sharp realization in your eyes as you watched him so desperately try to reach you with no avail, the acceptance of what was about to happen as you placed your hands on the glass to find his eyes one last time; the complete panic that swept over you when they dragged you away, your heels digging into the concrete, arms thrashing, as you tried to resist your capture.

And still, above the worst of it, above the fear on your face seared into his memory and the unforgiving grip of the agent’s hands on your body, Bucky couldn’t let go of the last thing you had said to him. While the cadence of your voice was lost behind the barrier of the wall, Bucky couldn’t shake it from his mind, wondering what it would have sounded like aloud. He would have given everything to hear it, just once.

I love you.

I’m sorry. I love you.

He had so many questions; so much he needed to know. Why were you only telling him now that you were being taken away? How long had you known? When did you first realize?

Was it in that moment as you caught his eye through the other side of the glass barrier, tears streaming down your face as the Hydra agents approached from behind you? Was it before that? Back before he found the courage to talk to you on your silent runs in the morning? Was it somewhere in between? 

Was it the first time you dragged him to Brooklyn or the day you spent with him curled up at the foot of your bed, listening to music and showing him the new books you’d bought him?

Was it after the first time you had stayed the night in his room after a particularly grueling mission, curled up against his left side, completely unbothered, if not relieved, by the cool metal on his shoulder? Because that was when he knew.

Had it been years of silent glances and the soft curve of lips, unspoken conversations and cautious touches, loving one another from a distance?

Wasted years you could have been his.

He could have been yours.

“What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky blinked a few times, focusing his vision back on Steve as he raised an eyebrow, concerned. He stood at the far end of the room, watching Bucky under a worried stare as he leaned onto the table. Behind him, filling the monitors, were images of different Hydra bases, blue prints, schematics, and a few profiles of the Hydra agents who were present at the base where you were taken.

Bucky’s gaze caught on the monitor to the right of Steve’s shoulder, your official SHIELD identification picture set around several layers of text detailing demographic factors for the rows of agents standing behind the table who didn’t know you like the team did. Bullet points of your height, the color of your eyes, the prominent scar above your eyebrow, your various skillset.

It all felt too clinical, too impersonal, dispassionate almost for these agents to read about you like you were a target, or a mark, or anything other than the most important person in his life.

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from your image displayed upon the screen. Your hair was up, wisps falling down to frame your face and the suit you wore was an older model, one you wore before Tony got a hold of it, though you had always said it was your favorite. It was subtle, humbling, and reminded you of the years of training it took you to get to this point. You smiled in the picture, the slight curve of your lips and a dimple in your cheeks and –

“Buck?” Steve called again, exchanging a nervous glance with Tony.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, gaze flickering over to the agents Steve was attempting to bring up to speed.

Not even a full day had passed since you’d been taken and Steve was organizing rescues ops to every known Hydra base he could find. With the fresh wound in Bucky’s side only haphazardly stapled together by Natasha on the quinjet and a seemingly permanent ringing in his left ear, he’d been benched.

He had fought Steve on that. Begged, screamed and threw punches until the dizziness in his head started to pull his vision black. He was in no shape to raid Hydra facilities, physically or mentally. He was too vulnerable, too willing to do whatever it took to bring you home. Steve knew him better than almost anyone and he knew that given the chance, Bucky would walk openly back into Hydra’s arms if it meant securing your safety. It was too great of a risk and SHIELD couldn’t allow Hydra to get ahold of the winter soldier again.

It was for that reason Steve wouldn’t let him get within a hundred feet of a jet.

Bucky cleared his throat. “What was the question?”

Steve exhaled, incredibly patient through the sad look on his face. “You know these bases better than anyone. Just checking to see if we missed anything in their defense procedures.”

Bucky nodded, taking in a deep breath as he studied the monitors. They seemed to cover everything from the security monitors to the defense protocols of the agents to the boobytraps installed in some of the older buildings.

“I think you're good,” Bucky confirmed. 

He tried his best to ignore the stares of the agents gathered around the table; eyes full of pity, some with apathy, others with that prominent look of disgust they didn’t bother to hide. Not everyone was as willing as you had been to accept him as a member of this team. He was a constant source of gossip amongst the agents, even three years later, and though his team members did their best to put a stop to it, it never seemed to let up.

Everywhere he went, someone would be watching him, waiting for him to slip up or reveal his ‘true nature,’ to turn on the people who took him in because he was nothing more than what Hydra trained him to be.

Bucky looked to the empty seat on his right. Your seat. His hands clenched so hard into fists he drew blood in the palm of his right hand. He couldn't stand to be in this room any longer.

As Steve and Tony turned to address the teams, Bucky abruptly pushed his chair out from the table and shoved his way out of the room, ignoring Steve’s cautious glance and the murmurs that followed him as he stepped out into the hallway.

The door of the conference room slammed shut behind him and a relief circulated through his chest with a steady inhale of breath. It was the first time he was alone since the jet landed back on the base.

Moving to wipe a line of sweat from his brow, Bucky caught a glimpse of red on his hands. Staining the cracks in his knuckles and dried in the lines of his flesh palm. Blood. Your blood.

His hands began to shake, tremors so violent that he couldn’t begin to control them even as he curled his hands to fists by his side. Flash of grey fog and the heat of flames surrounded him, trapped in the memory, as he had cupped the sides of your face, blood trailing from your ears and onto his palms. The look on your face, the ache in your voice flooded back to him at once and he leaned against the wall for support.

Tears blurred his vision and he nearly collapsed under weak knees when suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to whip around defensively, fists held high and ready to strike.

Sam raised his arms, taking a step back. “Hey man, I’m just checking in.”

Bucky let out a sharp breath, lowering his hands with a careful nod. His heart was racing; the dangerous combination of a half-stitched wound on his stomach, the adrenaline coursing in his veins, and the emotional distress of losing you to the very people who had ripped him apart, who were featured so heavily in his nightmares, was starting to break him.

“Look, why don’t you get down to the med bay?” Sam offered, gesturing to the soot and blood coating Bucky’s skin. “I’m sure Helen will want to properly stitch up your stab wound. Though Nat did a pretty decent job with the stapler, even if you did try to toss her off of you more than once.” 

Sam chuckled lightly, hoping to draw some kind of reaction but when he was met with the solemn stare etched on Bucky’s features, he added, “Steve and Tony are heading out with their teams soon. Nat, Rhodey, and Lang are heading up units, too. They’ll find her, Barnes. No stone unturned, you got it?”

Bucky swallowed. It burned.

“There’s nothing you can do but wait,” Sam sighed and the ache in his voice reminded Bucky of his own. Worried. Afraid. Though he tried to shove it aside. It was what they did best. “Y/n will be home soon and she’s going to need you to have a hold of yourself, okay? No pity parties. Get that mess on your stomach taken care of and get a shower. Don’t wanna be looking like a fool when she comes back, right?”

Sam pressed out a grin, though it was forced, as he shoved Bucky lightly in the shoulder. Despite their history, Bucky knew that Sam was a decent guy, someone who would have his back without a second thought even with their constant bickering. He was the only person who dared to stomp on every eggshell around him since you’d been taken. Sam provided him with a sense of normalcy he so desperately craved.

So, as Sam walked down the hall, leaving Bucky to his own self-destructive devices, he tried to convince himself that Sam was right, that in a few short hours he’d meet you in the hanger as you sprinted off the ramp of the quinjet, unharmed, beaming so wide it hurt, and you’d crash into his arms. He could practically feel the curve of your back, the thin layer of your favorite t-shirt, soft waves of your hair, all under his fingertips. He could smell the sweet fragrance of your shampoo and the warmth of your body pressed against his.

He’d return the words you had spoken to him. He’d tell you that you were the reason he found himself again after decades of being trapped within his own mind and tell you he’d give his life just to see you smile again. He’d tell you that he loved you and he couldn’t stand the idea of being without you for even a second longer and maybe, just maybe, he’d kiss you like he’d been imagining for years.

Cracked lips, still gentle and soft against his own, and he’d rake his fingers through your hair not caring about the blood caked through the roots, because he just needed to be closer to you and his mouth on yours just wouldn’t be enough. He’d cry and hold onto you like an extension of himself and he wouldn’t let go for hours.

Maybe you’d hold him back and maybe you’d kiss his cheek and maybe you’d tell him that it wasn’t his fault because—God-- he needed to hear it so badly and there wasn't a single person but you he would believe it from.  

But Bucky Barnes was not a hopeful man.

He had learned over the years that this world was not a kind one and that dreams were useless fantasies meant to hold his sanity until the next blow came and he’d find himself searching again for reasons to hang on, each time getting harder and harder until he had nothing left.

He knew Hydra and he knew what they were capable of.

He knew what they would do to you. As an Avenger and as someone so clearly connected to their favorite asset. They’d destroy you.

Bucky could barely feel the agonizing ache in his chest.

***

Five nights since you were taken and still no word. Sam had taken over for Steve’s team somewhere in Russia, searching the eighth base on their list. Tony and Nat’s teams grouped up in Austria, while Scott’s team was following a far-off lead in Brazil.

Bucky tried to keep himself away from the communications center where he’d find the voices of his friends chiming in through the radio, each reporting that they had found nothing and another base was crossed off the list. He’d only find pain there and he knew it.

But Bucky Barnes was a masochist and he put himself in that room anyway, sitting at the far corner, away from the prying eyes of the analysts and listened to the chatter of Sam’s voice as it started to become more and more defeated with every abandoned base they encountered.

Even when Tony and Nat’s teams were able to infiltrate a fully operational base and burn it to the ground, Bucky couldn’t even find it in himself to feel even an ounce of satisfaction. He couldn’t focus on anything beyond the fact that they were running out of known Hydra facilities on their list and there was yet to even be a sign that you were even still alive.

He left around three in the morning when the chatter began to die down and the only sound filling the room was the constant typing. He retreated back to his room, laid on the top of the computer and began to count the cracks in the tiles on the ceiling.

His bed was too cold, too hard under the aching swell of his muscles without you.

You had spoiled him, allowed him to get used to the warmth of your body so innocently next to his under the ruse of fighting nightmares together. Something about the feel of your hand curling into his when you noticed his body start to tremor in his sleep or the soft murmur if your voice lulling him back to fonder memories, and Bucky hadn't woken screaming in months.

But the unspoken arrangement wasn’t one sided. Sometimes, there’d be nights you’d come back from a mission in tears from the horrors you’d seen; graphic, violent scenes Bucky hadn’t been able to protect you from, and he’d hold you so tight to his chest his arm would grow numb. Soft, careful kisses to the crown of your head, brushing over your hair until your breathing came back to pace and he finally eased you to sleep.

It was his only solace. Even in his worst days, he knew he could always knock on your door, no questions, and you’d wrap yourself around him until he forgot why he sought you out in the first place.

Now, he couldn’t sleep without you, couldn’t fathom facing the monsters in his dreams without you next to him, especially now that those same monsters had you within their grasp. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the memory of your face as tears streamed down your cheeks, hands pressed to the glass barrier between you, and he struggled to catch his breath.

Sleep wasn’t an option. Even with his lids falling heavy, he jerked himself awake before the darkness could pull him under. He hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since you’d been taken.

Bucky resumed counting the cracks in the ceiling, falling somewhere in the eight-hundred range, when his head lulled to the side, lids slipping shut before he could find the energy to snap himself back to conscious.

Bucky pushed through double doors to an empty sea of darkness. In the distance, illuminated under a spotlight was the sparring ring from the gym sitting amongst a black abyss. As Bucky walked closer, a warmth filled his chest to find you standing at the center of the ring, tapping your closed fists wrapped in boxing tape, as you waited for him.

A smile beamed on your lips as he approached and you jumped a few times to get your blood circulating. Bucky hulled himself up into the ring and slipped under the ropes.

“You ready?” you asked, voice echoing airily through the emptiness around you as you stretched your arm over your chest. Bucky glanced down to his pajamas to find he was now wearing his workout gear, his hands already tapped.

“Only if you are, sweetheart,” he teased and a heat reddened on your face.

He knew those names made you flustered, which was exactly why he did it. There was nothing he found more endearing than a spy with a blush in her cheeks.

He supposed some might find it condescending, the little pet names, but not you, and he supposed it was perhaps because he sincerely meant them that they affected you so much. It was never to demean you or make you feel small or powerless. It was because he adored you and couldn’t find the words to actually tell you so it came out in terms of endearment he could easily brush off if someone started asking too many questions.

You laughed, the sound sending a nervous kind of excitement in his stomach, as you rushed him. Sparring with you was always his favorite match; even when you were winning, even when he was. Any excuse to be close to you was one he was eagerly willing to take.

His back slammed to the ground as you hovered over him and maybe he let you do that, but you didn’t seem to mind. Your full body weight on his and your hair fell down to cage his face. He reached up and tucked a strand behind your ear, chest panting from the exertion of the fight, heavy breaths warming his face.

It was so familiar, this moment, but he pushed the feeling aside as his gaze flickered down at your lips so swiftly, he thought you might not notice. When he was met with the soft hue of your iris again, he knew that you had. Your hand traced up his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake and you lowered your lips to his, so slowly, so impossibly delicate, that Bucky’s heart was pounding so fast he questioned if he would survive it. A graze of your lips, not enough to even feel it, and--

The scene changed.

You disappeared from above him and Bucky was surrounded by the ruins of a Hydra base, thick grey smoke filling the room as flames cast up in angry orange waves around him. Bucky scrambled to his feet, stumbling from the dizziness in his head.

“Y/n!” he shouted, wincing at the echo his voice produced. “Y/n! Dammit, answer me!”

Then, he spotted you trapped under a beam and rushed to you. By the time he pulled it from your body and you scrambled out from underneath, the flames had consumed the room. Bucky went to grab you to his chest but you were gone. Panic coursing through him and he spun around in search of you, only to be met with the burn of the fire.

He closed his eyes and then the heat was gone.

He opened his eyes to find you standing on the other side of the clear barrier, hand pressed to the glass, a blank expression on your face. Bucky slammed his fist to the wall, screaming out in agony as pain radiated up his arm, pain he hadn’t experienced on his left side since the fall, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

You didn’t so much as flinch as Bucky desperately clawed at the wall, chest panting with the ache of the adrenaline in his veins.  

“Y/n!” he shouted your name like a desperate plea. Tears blurred at his vision as the crowd of Hydra agents appeared at the end of the hallway behind you. Your expression remained entirely blank, if not dismissive, and Bucky’s stomach was twisting into knots.

“Why didn’t you stop this?” your voice carried through the wall, low and detached and Bucky nearly doubled over.

A Hydra agent suddenly appeared behind you, as if from thin air, and took your hand from the glass twisting it behind your back, though you remained emotionless.

“You could have saved me. This is your fault,” you accused and Bucky nodded his head vigorously.

“I know, I know,” he cried. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, doll.”

He collapsed to his knees, sobs raking through his body enough to limit his intake of breath as they dragged you away. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes when he was met with deafening silence.

Then, a sudden clicking noise and he was somewhere else. He removed his hands, taking in his surroundings, and a sharp breath hitched in his lungs. He’d seen this place before, been here in his nightmares too many times to count.

The chair that took his memories from him, his free will, his dignity, sat at the center of the room. Various men and women in lab coats, some in military uniforms carrying large weapons, carried about their business, completely obvious to Bucky’s presence.

A commotion sounded to his left and he turned to find two men dragging you into the room. You were screaming, crying, fighting with every ounce of strength you had left. Blood dripped down the side of your face, the left part of your hair coated in dark red, and your leg was clearly broken.

“Get away from her!” Bucky bellowed, moving to sprint towards you when a pull tugged on his wrists. He looked down to find them cuffed together, a chain extending from the wall that hadn’t been there before. You locked eyes with him and Bucky swore his stomach had plummeted to the far center of the Earth.

“Take her to the chair,” one of the men ordered, “wipe her, and start over. It’s time we find a new fist of Hydra.”

“No!” Bucky roared, yanking hard enough on the chains to dig open wounds in his wrist. You were screaming for him, begging for him to save you, to stop this, but he couldn’t move. He was crying again, so incredibly helpless but to watch, and he couldn’t find his breath.

Bucky’s vision started to blur, finding it impossible to breathe through the thin straw in his lungs and he fell to the ground. They strapped you to the chair and time seemed to fall still.

Through the numbing in his body, the lightheadedness, and the quick, desperate breaths, Bucky caught sight of your eyes as you bored into his. A frown passed your lips, features hardening in a way he had never once seen on your face.

“You did this to me,” you spat as they pressed the buttons to turn the machine on. Electric sparks radiated from the panels. “You did this, Bucky! YOU DID THIS!”

They shoved the mouthguard to your teeth and you clamped down, glaring at him enough to stab holes straight into his heart, as the panels pressed to the sides of your face, where his hands should be, where he would brush the tears from your eyes and let his thumb so carefully run over your cheekbone, and electricity pulsed through them.

You let out a scream Bucky could only find in his nightmares and he closed his eyes.

“Bucky!”

Bucky curled up onto his side, shaking his head, too afraid to see you on the chair again, to see you strapped to the instrument that destroyed him from the inside out. His face was wet with tears, his breaths too shallow.

“Bucky! Wake up!”

Heavy hands gripped at his biceps, yanking him up and Bucky’s eyes darted open to find Steve staring at him with panic in his features. Bucky’s lips had grown numb, his brain feeling fuzzy, as he struggled to find his breath.

“I need you to breathe, Buck, come on now,” Steve urged, running his hands along Bucky’s arms. It had been nearly three years since he was the one to help Bucky through these nights, he had almost forgotten how real these dreams could feel.

Bucky nodded, hands curling into the fabric of the sheets to ground himself. He focused on the steady rise and fall of Steve’s breaths until his heart rate started to slow and his breaths came in at an even pace. He exhaled, the numbness in his face still present and his head feeling a bit dizzy, but he knew where he was, knew it had been a nightmare that brought Steve barreling into his room. It was why he had tried so hard to stay awake.

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered under his breath, shifting away from Steve on the bed. He looked away, an embarrassed heat in his face.

“No, no, please don’t apologize, Buck,” Steve replied sincerely. “I know that this is hard for you. It’s... it’s hard for all of us... not knowing.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, desperately willing himself not to cry in front of Steve.

“But we’re not stopping until we bring her home,” Steve continued, offering Bucky a reassuring smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He paused, letting out a deep breath. “I... I know what she means to you, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t reply, couldn’t find the strength to talk about you without completely losing it. He felt so weak, so small, so pathetic as his entire world seemed to collapse without you.

How was it that he banked his entire recovery on a single person, that you had carried his burdens and lifted the pain from his shoulders without him even realizing it? How was it that he was crumbling and falling to pieces? How was he supposed to survive without you?

He never wanted to find out. Though, now, he might not have a choice.

***

Bucky sat at the kitchen table, nursing a coffee that had long grown cold, settled in the seat he had taken all those months when you’d meet him before the sun rose, before he even so much as spoke a word to you.

It was comforting, in some way. Like he could hold onto a piece of you in this memory, a good memory, of your sweet smile as you stole quick glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking as you stretched next to the refrigerator.

He glanced over his shoulder to the spot he had seen you in so many times, folding your leg behind you as you leaned against the wall, sending him a reassuring smile, one that never asked him to step further out of his comfort zone than he was ready for but one that reminded him he was safe here, that he was home and you were intent on making him feel as such.

He was only now realizing that this compound was never home to him.

You were.

It had been nine days since he last saw you in that Hydra base and Bucky was sure his body had grown completely numb. He was barred from joining the rescue ops until his therapist cleared him for duty, which he didn't expect to happen anytime soon, so he spent most of his time behind a punching bag or running for hours on end until his legs had grown weak with use. He’d work himself to the point of exhaustion just to catch an hour of dreamless sleep because if he left himself alone with his thoughts long enough, they’d swarm in masses of guilt and images of that fear in your eyes, and he’d never survive that on his own.

He sighed, clenching his jaw, and he turned back to face the blank wall he had been staring at when the flash of the television caught his eye.

A picture of you illuminated the screen, one from a mission downtown a year back as you escorted pedestrians away from the warzone happening on Broadway. You had a small child in your hands as you handed him to a crying woman. A blonde woman in a dark blue blazer sat behind a desk to the right of the image, lips moving though the TV was muted.

The image to the anchor’s left flashed to your official SHIELD headshot, the one that had been on the monitors in the debriefing room the day after you were taken. Having made his way into the living room almost in a trance, Bucky grabbed the remote and turned on the volume.

“—just over a week since Agent Y/L/n was taken prisoner by known Hydra affiliates during a classified mission in an undisclosed location,” the woman continued, voice stern as she stared directly into the camera, “There is still no word on her whereabouts, however we have learned that the Avengers at the command of Captain Rogers, continue to lead cavalries in search of the missing agent.”

The screen changed to a shaky video of Steve and a dozen agents storming a warehouse, the muffled sound of gunfire reigning in the background. The chyron at the bottom indicated they were in Slovakia.

Then, a new video as the screen flashed to Stark as he flew above the tree lines with several small jets behind him. The anchor appeared on screen again. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Targeting locations seemingly at random, it appears that the Avengers are no closer to locating Agent Y/L/n than they were the day she was abducted. With no word from Hydra, no indication of ransom demands, and no proof of life, unfortunately, we can only begin to assume—”

The screen suddenly turned black, a drop in his heart, and Bucky looked down at the remote, narrowing his eyes to find it sitting on the edge of his couch, away from his grasp.

“They don’t know shit,” Sam shot from behind him. He had his arms folded over his chest and a scowl upon his lips. A second remote sat in his left hand. “No news doesn’t mean bad news. They’re just looking to sensationalize this.”

Bucky shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the shaking in his hand. “It’s been too long, Sam, and- and she’s right! Why hasn’t Hydra made any demands for Y/n? You don’t find that strange at all? What was the point of taking her if they didn’t want something from us? She’s probably already de--”

“Stop it!” Sam snapped, shoving Bucky hard in this chest. “You don’t get to give up hope! It’s been nine days, Barnes! Don’t you dare do that to her. Don’t you fucking dare because we all know for a fact Y/n would never give up on you like this!”

“I didn’t—I, I haven’t—” Bucky fumbled over his words, something he was entirely unused to.

“Yes, you have!” Sam retorted, shoving Bucky again in the arm. “I know that going out looking for her yourself isn’t an option right now and I know how bad you wish it was. But you’re not helpless, Barnes, and she’s not dead!  Stop acting like it!”

Sam grunted, folding his arms over his chest. He waited, watching Bucky for a reaction and ready to put him back in place if needed. Cautious eyes trailed over the apprehensive clench of Bucky’s jaw as he nodded to himself.

With a steady exhale, Bucky chewed on his lip, meeting Sam’s eye. “Thank you.”

A flash of surprise cut through Sam’s features.

“You’re right. I'm no good to Y/n like this,” Bucky admitted much to Sam’s shock. He carded his fingers through his hair, tugging it away from his face. He had spent too long allowing himself to wallow in a sea of self-pity and guilt and blame that you never would have stood for. It cost him precious days he could have spent out looking for you.

With a newfound determination and a sense of purpose he had so desperately needed in your absence, Bucky said, “I need to get training again so I can be back in the field. I need to get my mind right and convince the doc to give me the all clear and I’m going to get the hell out of this compound and find Y/n myself.”

A slow smirk pulled on Sam’s lips. It was what he had been waiting for.

“You coming or what?” Bucky asked, chugging down the rest of his cold coffee and set it on the counter. He was already halfway across the room, heading to the gym, before Sam jogged to catch up with him.

***

Bucky spent every day in the gym with Sam for nearly a week. Sparring, running, lifting weights, sparring again. With Sam decked in his suit, he even agreed to let Bucky use his full strength just to make sure he was field ready before he made the round to the med bay to get the clearance from Dr. Cho.

Even his therapist was beginning to come around. With Bucky attending on a daily basis and putting more work into his mental health than he did in the three years he had been living at the compound combined, he was confident he’d get the ticket he needed to be back in the field by next week. The fact that the nightmares had started to subside, even without you next to him, didn’t slip his notice either.

It was officially two weeks since you were taken and while the endless coverage on the news wouldn’t let him forget it, Bucky kept holed himself up in the gym with Sam. They’d been at it for nearly three hours in the ring and Bucky was dripping in sweat. Sam was a more adversarial opponent than he gave him credit for, though he would never admit it aloud.

“Stop relying on your left arm!” Sam quipped as he ducked under Bucky’s shoulder and jabbed him with an electrical current at the base of his shoulder.

Bucky grunted, stumbling away as he gripped onto the dead weight in his left side, metal falling heavy and useless by his side. He glared at Sam enough to stare daggers through his head.

“I thought we said no weapons,” Bucky grumbled, trying to shake his arm back to life.

“Yeah, well Hydra is going to come at you with everything they got and knowing you, you’ll fuck something up and end up weaponless, so you can thank me later,” Sam shot back, that irritating smirk upon his lips that drove Bucky absolutely insane.

“You’re infuriating.”

“Maybe, but I’m the only one working to get your sorry ass back to field duty, so deal with it,” Sam retorted and Bucky felt a stab of guilt in his chest. Sam was right. He was the only one who stayed behind to make sure Bucky didn’t do anything stupid and with his complete disregard for Bucky’s feelings, Sam was the one person who was able to kick him out of his all-consuming self-pity.

Bucky made a mental note to explicitly not make any jabs at Sam for at least a month once they brought you home.

Bucky shook out his right shoulder, his left arm still entirely useless as Sam circled around him in the ring, getting ready to pounce again. Bucky was nearly ready to strike, when Sam stood up straight, eyes narrowing at something far over Bucky’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, turning cautiously to follow Sam’s gaze, when suddenly Sam was sprinting off the edge of the ring, hurdling over the ropes to the far corner of the gym.

Confused by Sam’s abrupt change in behavior, Bucky raced after him to find Sam desperately scrambling for the remote to the TV that hung on the wall above the cardio equipment. Heart thumping painfully in his chest, almost afraid to look, Bucky slowly glanced up at the TV to find the same blonde woman reporting from behind a desk he had seen a few days ago, a solemn look in her eyes, as an image of you was pictured to her left.

“Stupid freaking remote, come on,” Sam grumbled under his breath as he struggled to unmute the TV.

Bucky’s eyes were glued to the woman’s lips, trying to make out what she was saying because the look on her face was setting an ache in Bucky’s stomach.

Then, Sam exhaled in relief and the woman’s voice began to echo through the empty gym.

“-- received just moments ago in the mailroom of our television studio, just several floors below where we are recording this now,” the woman continued, “It remains unclear who dropped this package off as our security footage appears to be malfunctioning but rest assured authorizes have been notified. If you are just joining us, we have received what appears to be video footage of the MIA Avenger, Agent Y/n Y/L/n.”

Bucky’s breath hitched in his lungs and Sam set a hand on his shoulder. Frozen.

“Please be warned that the video we are about to show may be difficult to watch,” the woman let out a heavy sigh as she looked to someone off screen. She nodded, a slight wave of her hand, and the screen went blank.

Bucky flinched, thinking for a moment that the feed had cut out, when suddenly, the screen faded into the view of a dark room, a single folding chair illuminated under a free hanging light bulb. The scuffling of feet echoed through the video and Bucky’s heart was pounding in his chest. Then, he nearly stopped breathing as you appeared on the screen, shoved into the chair by two men with masks obstructing their faces.

“Fucking hell.” Sam exhaled a harsh breath beside him as he began to pace and back forth. 

Bucky could do nothing but watch. He was paralyzed. The relief of seeing you alive overshadowed by the state of your present injuries, leaving a sharp pang in Bucky’s chest.

A deep gash ran along your cheekbone, dried blood trailing down your face, over the swollen purple bruising. It looked infected, like it had been sustained days prior without any medical treatment and your skin was flushed and covered in sweat. Dark circles sat under reddened eyes, bruising on your nose from where it had been broken, and blood caked into the split of your bottom lip. Your collarbones were more prominent than they should be and you looked weak, frail, like they hadn’t been feeding you and Bucky could only suspect as much.

Your eyes glued onto the camera, like you could see straight through it right into Bucky’s soul, and he wondered if maybe you could. You flickered your gaze for only a second off screen and a fist came barreling out of nowhere and slammed against the side of your face.

Bucky jumped, hands clenching at his side, not even realizing he had regained feeling in his left arm. You turned and spat a thick glob of blood to your left, shooting a glare at whoever hit you.

You turned your focus back to the camera. Slowly, you parted your lips.

“My name is Special Agent Y/n Y/L/n,” you spoke, your voice raspy and broken from either the lack of use or screaming and Bucky wouldn’t allow himself to wonder which. “I am an Agent of SHIELD, an Avenger, and I was abducted by Hydra two weeks ago from their base in Western Russia.”

A newspaper was thrown in front of the camera, proving today’s date. It fell away and you swallowed thickly, though you winced at the effort. Your eyes glanced down at something under the camera and Bucky realized you were reading from prompts.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam cursed, running his hands down his mouth but Bucky couldn’t focus on anything beside the trembling in your lip as you read the next cue card before you said it aloud.

You shook your head, clenching your jaw. “I’m not reading that,” you spat to someone off screen, only to be met without a second hit to your face and Bucky felt his knees lock.

Blood trailing from the corners of your mouth you turned back to the camera.

“Just read it. Come on, sweetheart. Don’t give them a reason to hurt you,” Bucky muttered under his breath, entirely unwilling to see you get hit again. You straightened your back, a hardened scowl on your lips.

“This is a warning to the people of New York,” you read, your voice flat and defiant, “The Avengers cannot protect you. They...” you took a deep breath, eyeing someone standing to the right of the camera before you continued, “They can’t even protect their own.”

Bucky’s throat ran dry and Sam’s pacing behind him ceased.

“You will hear from us again,” a man off screen said, American, deep voice, and the blatant detest on your face as you glared at him made it clear he was the man in charge. 

A heavy breath in your lungs, eyes glancing back to the camera, a new kind of softness behind the hue of your irises, like you were searching for him beyond the layers of technology. 

Then, the screen turned black and you were gone. 

--

Im... so sorry. 😬

feedback is always appreciated 💖

tags 📺 @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @blushingbucky / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts

[freedom-of-writing]

You’re all I want, all I need

Chapter 1 - I’m ready now

Chapter 2 - The 13th clan

Chapter 3 - Soulmates

Chapter 4 - Your enemy is our enemy

It's sunset by the time everything is ready for the summit. Lexa's throne room has been set up to host the ceremony with a long red carpet the goes from the doors to the steps at the feet of her throne. It fits quite perfectly, Clarke thinks, that the Commander of Death has to walk her way towards the Commander of Blood on a crimson rug.

Everyone else is already inside, standing by one side of the red carpet and waiting for Clarke to make her entrance. Or better, they’re all waiting for Wanheda. That's who she’ll have to be, at least for tonight. The broken former Sky leader will have to wait outside those doors. Thankfully, the handmaids Lexa sent to help her get ready did an amazing job in making her look like the powerful woman everybody is expecting to see. She is dressed in a gown with a high side vent that leaves her legs visible, the top is covered by a golden leather corset which all but sets off her cleavage. Then there's her hair, held away from her face and arranged in a series of intricate braids, reflecting the grounders' traditional hairstyle. Two stripes of war paint go from each one of her eyes to her hairline. Everything about her makes her appear like a powerful grounder commander.

"Yumi na teik won sonraun au?" And will you take a life with me?

"Medo ste thonken, medo drein au." A body's hollow, a body bleeds.

Clarke hears the beautiful voice of the singer starting to sing as the guards open the doors to let her into the room. She takes a moment to look at the people in the room, everyone’s staring at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Clarke holds her head up high, as she's seen Lexa do many times before, and she walks in.

"Oso kik raun ogeda, soulou." We live as one, we live alone.

"Ai laik yu gona." I am your soldier.

"Ai na get raun, you." I will atone.

Clarke’s breath gets caught as soon as her eyes land on Lexa’s form, standing tall in front of her. They didn't have the chance to see each other before the beginning of the summit, so they're both mesmerized by sight of the other. They don't let it show, of course. Nonetheless, if you paid close attention, you could totally tell they are staring languidly at one another as their eyes study single detail of the other's dress, hair and make-up. Lexa looks as ruthless as she does while wearing her armor, but all Clarke can think of is that this is the first time she's ever seen her in a gown, and she is stunning. Lexa is wearing a long black and crimson dress that leaves her arms and her cleavage on display. Her hair is held back in her usual braids, but her war paint is simpler than the one she wears for battle. Like Clarke's, it shapes into two stripes that go from her eyes to her hairline. As she walks, Clarke can't help but notice Lexa has a tattoo on her upper right arm. She wonders what’s the story behind it, but that of course is something that will have to wait for later. Right now, she needs to focus on keeping her back straight, and on walking without tripping on her own feet, so that the mighty Wanheda won't make a complete fool of herself in front of all these people.

"Yumi na teik won sonraun au?" And will you take a life with me?

"Ai keryon gyon op, ai keryon g' breik au." My soul moves on, my soul is freed.

Clarke comes to a stop in front of Lexa, as the voice in the background sings these words. They stare deeply in each other's eyes, and for a moment it feels like it’s just the two of them in the room. Their eyes shine with a newfound resolution, and it seems like they're saying that yes, they will take a life with the other. The words of the song reflect perfectly what Clarke feels right now. Thanks to Lexa her soul is able to move on from all the horror and loss she's experienced in her life, and now it’s finally free. Free to love the woman standing in front of her with all of her heart, and free to take a life with her.

"Pas skaikrasha, klin tristraka," After the storm, a lightning flash,

"En houd don gon hosh trashsaka." With all the world reduced to ash.

Clarke is lost in her thoughts, until the singer moves on to the next verse of the song. Brought out of her reverie, she remembers that it’s now time for her to bow to Lexa. Before anyone can notice the way the two commanders are staring at each other, she bows her head, and very slowly, she moves to kneel down on one knee. Staring at the floor as sign of respect and submission, Clarke cannot see the look on Lexa's face. She doesn’t notice the way her eyes sparkle with unshed tears, or the way her mouth opens slightly in awe. Thankfully, years of training in hiding her emotions help Lexa keep it together in front of her warriors. No one notices the way her eyes water up as Lexa’s mind darts off to that damned day when she had to leave Clarke behind in order to save her people. She remembers how bad she felt when she set foot back into camp that night, praying to whatever god that’s up there that Clarke was still alive. She wouldn’t dare to hope that Clarke might forgive her after her betrayal, but as long as she was okay, it didn’t matter if the woman hated her for the rest of her life. Thank God, Clarke did make it out of it alive. But only for the Ice Queen to go and threaten her life to win over Wanheda’s power. Lexa can’t believe she’s almost lost yet another person she loves at the hands of Queen Nia. But Clarke is here now. She's safe here in Polis by her side. Not only did she manage to protect her from Azgeda, but she also got Clarke to forgive her, and even more, to love her.

"Yumi na teik won sonraun au?" And will you take a life with me?

"Houd na fleim daun, bed' ge jok au." This world will burn, save what you need.

Lexa keeps her eyes fixed on Clarke’s figure until everyone else in the room falls on their knees before her. The first one to follow in on Clarke’s action is Prince Roan of Azgeda, to Lexa’s great surprise. The last ones, instead, are Marcus and Abby, which doesn’t surprise her at all. With that, Lexa takes a deep breath to regain her composure. She cannot let her voice waver as she addresses the people bowing to her. She’s their leader, and leaders cannot be weak. Emotion is weakness. She can hear Titus’s voice reaping it to her over and over again. Lexa moves her eyes quickly around the room, before tilting her head to her right to look at the singer, waiting for her to finish the song.

"Ai nou fir raun," I am fearless,

"Ai mana jomp in," I am to fight,

"Ai mana wan open," I am to die,

"Ai don sin y'in." You're in my sight.

"Yumi na teik won sonraun au?" And will you take a life with me?

"Jus drein jus draun," Blood must have blood,

"Ai medo drein au." My body bleeds.

When the song is over, Lexa brings her gaze back on the people knelt in front of her. And with her head held high, she finally greets them: "Hail, warriors of the 12 clans."

"Hail, Commander of Blood." The assembly replies in chorus.

"Rise." Lexa waits for everyone to be back on their feet, and for Clarke to walk to her mother's side before continuing. "We welcome Skaikru to our halls, in spirit of friendship and harmony. And we welcome Klark kom Skaikru, legendary Wanheda, Mountain Slayer. The reason for the summit has changed. We are not here to negotiate a treaty with the Skaikru, but rather to initiate them into the Coalition."

Loud murmurs fill the room as soon as the warriors assimilate what she just said. But their voices are soon cut off by Lexa's clear voice.

"To symbolize this union the leader of Skaikru must bear our mark." She looks down at Kane and Abby, expecting the choice to rest on either one of them, as Clarke had told her. She stares at them attentively, as they look at each other. Finally, Abby leans in to say something to Marcus. Lexa can't quite make out what is said from where she's standing, but their gestures are enough to let her know ù he is going to be the one to bear the coalition mark.

"Present your arm." She orders after nodding to him.

Right as the white-hot metal mark is pressed on his forearm, the doors burst open, and three people break into the room. Lexa recognizes two of them as Octavia kom Skaikru and her brother Bellamy, who is holding one of her guards at gun point. She has no idea who the other man is, but she reasons he must be one of Clarke's people as well. Having no clue of what’s happening, Lexa looks at Clarke worriedly. But her worry only increases since Clarke looks just as surprised as her to see her friends standing there by the doors. The first one to recover from the shock of the irruption is Titus. The bald man gives them looks at them threateningly as he demands an explanation as to what is going on. Bellamy’s voice is just as harsh as he answers, claiming the summit to be a trap.

“We have to get you out here.” He says, motioning for Clarke to follow them out.

The summit's a trap? No, it can't be right. Lexa promised. She… she promised she wouldn’t betray her again. There's no way this is a trap. Right? Clarke is more confused than ever as she turns to look at Lexa. She wants to trust her with all her heart, and she does. But there’s still a part of her that wonders if she really can trust her. So she asks, just to be sure.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"I don't know."

Lexa doesn't know? Oh, thank God! She has nothing to do with this. Clarke lets out a breath of relief, although she’s not sure whether that should make her feel better or worse. Considering no one knows what’s going on, and she’s never seen Lexa being so alarmed before.

"It's the Ice Nation." Bellamy explains. As if that meant anything at all.

"They're only trying to deceive you, Heda. Azgeda has nothing to do with what's happening. Skaikru is clearly the one behind all of this." An Ice warrior attempts a lame defense, but he’s soon silenced by the rise of Lexa’s hand. Her gaze is penetrating Bellamy's skull as she asks where they've come by that information. The three companions start looking around the room as if searching for the person who has all the answers.

"Where the hell is Echo?" Octavia hisses towards her brother.

"What's going on?" Kane interjects, but the only answer he gets is another question from Bellamy.

"Where the hell is she?"

"Bellamy, we were wrong about this."

"I don't understand..."

Seeing as the situation is only getting more and more confusing by the second, Kane orders his people to lower their weapons, in the hope of finding a solution which doesn’t include the use of violence.

"Bellamy? Bellamy, come in." A voice cracks from the radio attached to his belt. It’s Raven. "The grounders attacked Mount Weather." Her broken words leave everyone in shock.

Bellamy takes the radio in his hand quickly, before asking for a further explanation. "What are you talking about?"

"It's gone. They're all gone. Sinclair and I are the only ones left." Raven takes a moment before starting to whisper broken apologies into the radio. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You should've never moved your people back into Mount Weather." Everyone’s startled by the voice of the Ice warrior who had just spoken moments before. "The Ice Nation did what Lexa was too weak to do!"

"This is an act of war!" Lexa hisses towards the man, and her voice is so cold and threatening that it terrifies even Clarke. "Sentries, arrest the Ice Nation delegation! Including the prince." She shouts at the two guards standing at her side, and they immediately execute their orders.

"We need to go home. If they attacked Mount Weather, Arkadia could be next." Abby says, to which Kane agrees immediately.

"Go. I'll raise an army from the Coalition to help you defend Arkadia. Your enemy is our enemy now. We'll face this threat together."

"Mochof, Heda." A small smile appears on Lexa's face when she hears Marcus thanking her in Trigedasleng.

"Are you coming?" Abby asks Clarke, to which she answers without hesitation.

"They need an ambassador from our clan to stay here in Polis."

"Clarke, it's not safe for you here?" Funny how it took Bellamy three months to fight for her to come back home. The problem is, Arkadia’s not her home anymore. She belongs here with Lexa.

"I'll be safe here under Lexa's protection."

"Please tell me you didn't forgive her. She left us to die at Mount Weather not more than three months ago! Or did you forget?!"

"I'm sorry, Bellamy. But my home's here now." Clarke says the last part looking straight at Lexa.

With that, Bellamy gives up and turns around to make his way out, with the others following right after. All but Abby, who goes to hug Clarke goodbye before leaving.

"Be safe."

"You too."

Chapter 5 - Costia

[armellin]

I got so intrigued when you said he looked different in real life! How's it so? Fellow artist here, my brain will shut down if I don't bet to know how lol

I’ll try to explain, but let me tell you It took me several days to process what was different from the picture I had in mind.

I’ve been to 3 Supernatural conventions, I knew how they were, let’s not mention that because it’s a unique experience, and you get it nowhere else, because honestly, 3 days with the same actors of the show you like it’s not like 10 seconds with someome you love, right? You can spend much more time watching these people in person.

I’ve been to some big conventions, like the one in Moscow, or in the Netherlands. And seriously,  both of them are like 4 times bigger (at least) then Ace Comic Con Seattle. And I had a chance to understand how quick it all goes there. But even like that the actor usually says something like “Hi, how are you? Have a great weekend!” And you know they say it to everyone, but you can see that they are doing their job, they are present and working there for you.

With Chris (and I knew that from the interviews where he’s talking about things like that quite a lot) you can clearly see how much he wants to hide his pesonality from you. I am not saying he was rude, or that I didn’t like the experience. I’m saying I felt um..kind of pain? for him? And it’s sad =( 

He seemed very detached form the situation itself, and you can see it if you watch the panel from that exact convention. I believe that’s because he was filming at the moment, and I could feel the same energy I get when someone distracts me from my art process, for example. Say you were painting some details for 4 hours in a quiet room, and then BAM someone would come up ans ask you to solve an equation. You would be confused? And a little lost. That’s how I think he felt, you know.

He was hiding, obviously, and he even had a baseball hat that gave a huge shadow on his face so you could barely see his eyes.

SO, as a FELLOW ARTIST you can feel my pain when I say I failed to catch as much of his facial details as possible. That was the plan, and it didn’t work =) But i’ve noticed some things, even with 20 seconds I got (hello 2 takes of 1 picture).

His face is much more, let’s say, in 3D than it looks on pictures and on screen. I don’t know how to describe it. It usually seems very flattened, like he has quite a round shaped face, and it appeared to be not true=) not at all. Let me try to explain with some examples.

Here you see it’s flat on his cheekbones. Like he has a broad jaw and all, seems like that, right?

That’s not how Chris is, I guess that’s because of the camera lenses.

He has a very visible line where his front face part changes to the sides on his cheekbones, and they are not that wide as it seems. It’s very hard to find some photos showing that, but I guess I have some.

Ok, I found 2 of them in my whole Chris folder.

Looks like Chris suddenly got much thinner then he usually is. But he didn’t =) It’s just the photographer managed to find the right lighting and angle.

The other difference from what I had in mind was his nose shape. It’s smaller that it looks like on photos.

And OH GOD how smooth his skin is, very pale with no blush on it, and very smooth. He has moles, right. But no freckles no nothing, it’s stunning. 

About the hair colour - I have no idea,  thanks to the hat. But his beard was not ginger as everyone says. I wonder if it was his natural haircolour or if he had to dye it for the role, as many actors do. It was chocolate brown, a veeeery beautiful colour indeed, hehe. 

That’s what I’ve noticed about his looks and just about him in general. I wish he felt more comfortable in crowds, they shoud have had someone of his fellow actor friends to accompany him, because he obviously seems more relaxed when he is not alone doing photo ops and all.

I hope it answers your question. Feel free to send me nore questions.

[asahi-no-kagayaki]

Rainbow 6 OCs

I!!!!! Finally!!!!!! Finished!!!!! My!!!! Rainbow 6 Siege OCs!!!!!!!!!!! I’m really happy how this kinda turned out jifjfi my new babies i love them. I’m gonna have so much fun implementing them in r6s universe lmao i’m gonna post my first (r6) fic about them soon lol

Also i cant draw shit so i made their (casual-look ofc cuz cant find military-chara sheet thing) character design using Picrew (this website is really great btw) so dont blame me if theyre looking too anime-y jdojofjfo

More info about OCs below!!!!

1. Beruang (’Bear’ in Indonesian) Real Name: Lukman Susilo Sanjaya Age: 37 (As of 2019) Organization: Kopassus Position: Attacker Birthplace: Tegal, Central Java, Indonesia Date of Birth: January 12, 1982 Height: 5'10'' (1.79m) Weight: 177lbs (80kg) Armor: Medium Speed: Medium

Appearance: He wears standard Kopassus uniform but his face is covered by black half-mask and shades. In his free time, he usually wears bland t-shirt and sport pants. He’s kinda hairy, has a little bit of stubble and scar under his right eye. (Casual look:)

Personality: Serious 24/7. Difficult to approach since he only gives necessary/short answers if asked. He never seeks company of other people, and sometimes can be oblivious about things not related to his job. 

Appears stoic, but it’s not because he doesn't have any feelings. He just doesn't know or can't express his emotion to other people except Jasmine. Lowkey insecure about himself, like thinking he's 'not good enough' and people deserves someone better than him.

It's hard for him to have a close relationship with other people other than Kirana because of his insecurity as well his oblivious and stoic personalities. It's not impossible, just hard and take a lot of work before someone could call Lukman their friend or even boyfriend.

Special Gadget: Bear Knuckles - It's basically a pair of gloves shaped like bear paws, used to further increase the power of Lukman's fist (It should be noted that his punch is already strong before he put on the gloves), allowing him to break any surfaces (except steel, for now at least). Yes, it's technically like Sledge's hammer but it's his fist instead lol. Punching a person without holding back with this will likely put them unconscious or heavily injured. 

Unfortunately, it's powered by battery and can only be used a few times before it runs out. It must be charged before he can use it.

Short Biography: As a son of the current Major General of Indonesian's Special Forces Kopassus, Beruang's life was revolved around how to be just like his father. With his incredible strength and agility, coupled with knowledge of various martial arts, a fight without a weapon is what he shines the most. Calm and obedient, Beruang is one of excellent soldier Kopassus had, a War Machine ready to serve under his country.

Psychological Report: Suffers from a condition where he can't express his emotion and low self-esteem where he claimed that he's never good enough. It is believed that harsh training and upbringings from the environment he lived in was the cause of those problems. While he's good at his job, his social skill is very lacking, and he himself appears to be distancing himself with his teammates other than one person.

2. Jasmine Real Name: Kirana Tunggadewi Pitaloka Age: 26 (As of 2019) Organization: Kopassus Position: Defender Birthplace: Malang, East Java, Indonesia Date of Birth: July 18, 1993 Height: 5'5'' (1.65m) Weight: 131 lbs (59kg) Armor: Light Speed: Fast

Appearances: wears standard Kopassus uniform and her face is also covered with black half-mask and shades. In her free time, she usually wears colorful clothes, along with this black-chocker thing she always wear. She has short, neck-length straight short hair.  (Casual look:)

Personality:

She has two personas. A facade she used to manipulates others: Kind, supportive, and positive. And then her real self, which so far only Six and Lukman knows: Lazy, vengeful, manipulative, and cold. She loves gossip, and although usually lazy, she will put a lot of effort into works that beneficial/important to her (such as maintaining her face around other operators or learning 'perfect english' before joining Rainbow). 

But, Kirana is loyal and helpful towards people she thinks as her friends. If they're in trouble, you bet Kirana will try to cheer them up or maybe even hurt those who hurt her friends. She can be easily stressed, which surfaced as paranoia and mild anxiety. She also has abandonment issues, but no one know about this.

Due to her upbringings and her job as a spy, she would do anything to obtain important information she ordered to. Like for example, if someone ask her for intercourse in exchange of information, she would do it as long that information is very important and worth the deal (if not, she wouldn't do it and if they lied about it, she would kill them on site). She doesn't believe in and sometimes even disgusted with people in romantic relationship (like dating/engaged/married/etc), especially those who is in relationship with their workmates, but she's down for one night stand and such.

(It's not impossible for her to be in romantic relationship, but it is very hard to tie her in it)

Special Gadget: White Petals - Five small gadgets shaped together to look like jasmine flower. There's two set of this, one that function like Kapkan's gadget: Putting it on the side of a doors/windows/any openings and watch as everyone that walk through it get electrocuted. It's strong electric surge could even renders someone unconscious. Unfortunately, people could just jumped over/crawled under the gadgets to avoid it when it activates. But the gadget itself is very small, so it can be difficult to spot.

The second set of White Petals is a gadgets that works kinda like smoke grenade, usually used by Jasmine when she have to run. When thrown, it filled the entire room with a special, thick smokes that not even drone could see through. Unfortunately, it last only for a couple of seconds.

Short Biography: Born and raised in a family where her parents worked as spies, naturally Jasmine herself was shaped to be one. Claimed to be one of the best spy her country ever had, she never failed to complete her mission in obtaining and gathering information. While her firearms skill is lacking compared to other operators, her skill of espionage, her cunning thinking, and her good self-defense skill prove herself to be a spy to be reckoned with.

Psychological Report: Her facade personality seems to be a defense mechanism she put up to make herself appears benign and easy to communicate with, which what she needed for her job so she would be least suspicious. On rare cases someone's grow suspicious of her, she would be stressed which resort to anxiety and paranoia. Regardless, she doesn't have any issues in engaging in large group of individuals and offers genuine help and advice to people she care about.

3. Angel Real Name: Florence Marie Walanda Tambayong Age: 31 (As of 2019) Organization: Indonesian National Armed Forces (Land) Position: Defender Birthplace: North Minahasa, North Sulawesi, Indonesia Date of Birth: April 29, 1988 Height: 5'7'' (1.70m) Weight: 143 lbs (65kg) Armor: Light Speed: Fast

Appearance: Wearing standard Indonesian Army uniform, also wears crucifix-necklace. In her free time, she usually wears long-sleeves black/gray/white/pink shirts with silly designs (like some Indonesian words or random bootleg characters) or sweaters and capri pants. If she's on duty treating operators in the medical facility, she wears lab coat, surgical mask, and white gloves. Also her skin is darker compared to the other two ops. (Casual look:)

Personality: Brutally honest but also cheerful and friendly. She likes to socialize/interact with everyone, joining any kind of 'fun' activities, and laugh the loudest at jokes that’s not even funny. She cares a lot about her teammates' condition, so much to the fact that if she ever see any kind of injury or sickness, she will 'fix' them. She doesn't care if they refuse her treatment, she WILL treat them with or without their permission.

She's very dedicated and focus on her works. Even if she lose her limbs, as long she's still has consciousness and able to move, she will try her damnest to treat injuries and sickness.  

Special Gadget: Nightingale - A first aid kit she named after a figure she idolizes. Said kit is filled with numerous vitamins, boosters, bandages, medicines, scissors, needles, etc. It's equipped with every medical stuff you can imagine, people wonders how the hell can all that stuffs are stored in it. The gadget itself isn't very special, but Angel's adrenaline rush make her performs medical operations perfectly whenever she uses this kit on someone, so it's more like a mixture of a very-equipped first aid kit and Angel's excellent determination to save lives, just like Florence Nightingale.

In game, this could heals or revives operators to full-health with additional 30 health points. Unfortunately, it can only be used thrice before it ran out.

Short Biography: Her involvement in medical world began at University of Indonesia where she eventually got her medical degree. After that, she worked as a nurse in a local hospital before she joined Indonesian Red Cross Society and eventually served as medical staff in Indonesian Army. With her excellent comprehension of human anatomy, she vowed to erase sickness and pain from everyone.

Psychological Report: With her optimism and carefree attitude, Angel has no trouble making friends in every place she stay. However, trauma about her failure to nurse injured civilians back to health in 2009 Sumatra Earthquake took a toll in her mental state. This resulted in her strong dedication and commitment in her job, which usually would be a good thing to have but it made her force anyone with injuries or sickness, no matter how small it is, to be nursed by her. She doesn't take no for an answer, in fear of her past experiences. It is best for one to approach her in a healthy condition.

Trivia:

- Jasmine studied in Airlangga University and got bachelor's degree in Psychology, Angel studied in University of Indonesia and got (obviously) medical degree, while Beruang studied in military academy.

- Jasmine speaks Japanese to some extent, like she doesn't know proper grammar for each situation (Japanese has different grammars for any situation, like speaking in workplace or towards elders for example) but she can understand and communicate in it. She studied it all by herself, mostly because she's a weeb.

- As said before, Jasmine is a big weeb. She watches a lot of Japanese dramas or animes, also plays a couple of Japanese's mobile games like Fate/Grand Order and Love Live. This is what she mostly do in her free time.

- All of them like spicy food, although Jasmine likes sweet food a little more. As such, if they're cooking a meal you bet it will be spicy as fuck.

- Beruang loves coffee while Jasmine and Angel loves iced tea. Both Beruang and Jasmine doesn't like alcohol, although Jasmine might drink wine or champagne a little, while Angel is open to trying variety of alcohol drinks.

- Jasmine's hobbies includes cooking and gaming, Beruang's hobbies are reading history or watching documentary films, and Angel's hobbies are treating patients and jogging.

- Regarding their sexuality, Beruang is gay (still in the closet, only Jasmine knows). Jasmine's down to have sex with anyone so she’s more of a pansexual, while Angel is straight but dedicates her life to her work so much she doesn't care about romance or sexual activities.

- As said before in his special gadget entry, Beruang is strong. Literally strong, his fist could destroy wood in a second without him putting his gloves on. Although without his gadget, he can't destroy bricks and such (might leave a dent on it though). If angry (which is thankfully unusual), he can't control his power and might break something he hold at the moment.

- As mentioned in his biography, out of various martial arts' learned, Beruang is great at judo and silat. He would use Judo technique the most in a fight, though.

- Beruang thinks of Jasmine as his little sister, while Jasmine thinks of Beruang as either her best friend or a dad. They have close platonic relationship regardless, although Jasmine had a crush on him a while ago (before she knew he's gay).

- While regarding Angel, Jasmine and her dislike each other. Beruang is neutral with Angel, and Angel regards him as a friend.

- Beruang's favorite animals: German shepherd. Jasmine's favorite animal: any cats. Angel's favorite animals: Parrot.

[measuringlife]

Measuring Monday: Daddy

Tumblr has been my quiet safe space for 8 years. This has been a place to grieve and be vulnerable. Much of what I compiled below for this week’s Measuring Monday was already written and shared here over the years. Only now am I beginning to share my writing more publicly and I am thankful for the space and community here when I was less brave.

The world lost a great man 11 years ago yesterday. My world especially got a lot dimmer and for sure a lot less funny.

My Dad was awesome. He was born in Brooklyn and raised on Long Island in the same town I grew up in. He was the first in his family to attend and graduate college (with an Art degree) and after being a hippie in Southern California for a few wanderlust months he went back for a Masters in Education.

My Dad was an art teacher in a low income, minority school district and he LOVED IT. He spent his ENTIRE 33-year career in the district. After teaching for 20ish years he went on to administration. He was a middle school assistant principal for a number of years and then a high school assistant principal for a number of years. They wanted him to be principal, but he didn’t want to deal with politics.

When I was in first grade my Dad started a Saturday enrichment program for K-12 students, he ran the program for 12 years. Some of my favorite childhood memories were from that program. My Dad also piloted a night school program within the school district so people could get their HS diplomas. My Dad was a pretty big deal in the K-12 Education world. Even after he retired he couldn’t stay away. The last year of his life he was teaching in an education certificate program at a Dallas Community College. My Dad was great at what he did.

We shared a love of many, many things, especially musicals. RENT was one of our favorites and after he died “Seasons of Love” took on a new meaning. I’m measuring those years within my “dash” (it’s a great poem if you are not familiar, look it up) in daylights - in sunsets - in midnights - in cups of coffee - in inches - in miles - in laughter - in strife and more.  Back in January 2010, a friend of mine challenged me to measure my year in cups of coffee, which lead to measuring my miles, my body, my health and the rest is history. I get a lot of joy and satisfaction in measuring my life. It makes life seem a little more permanent and a little less fleeting at times.

The last 3-4 years of his life I pretty much talked to my Dad every day, even multiple times a day. Since he was retired he was available to talk whenever. I generally would call him when I was walking to and from class in grad school. Even if it was just a few minutes we’d have a great chat. I can honestly say we were best friends. There are still times when I wish I had my Dad to call.

Our last day was a fabulous Daddy-Daughter day - we were dorks and really called them that. Little did I know that a week later he would be taken from me. I was living in North Texas at the time, 5 months into my first job out of grad school and I was going through a rocky patch. My Dad lived 2.5 hours away in Dallas and wanted to come up for the day to cheer me up. Plus my he was having gastric bypass surgery that Thursday and I really wanted to see him before then.

Part of the reason I moved to Texas was to be closer to my Dad. My parents got divorced after my freshman year of high school and he stayed local, but once I went to college we never lived in the same state. I was in Connecticut and he was in New York or Florida or Texas. I saw my Dad so much in those 5 months we both lived in Texas it was wonderful, some of our best times. I had a lot of ups and downs with my Dad, but our last few months were so much fun.

That last time we hung out I drove up to Oklahoma so we could go to the casino and play some slot machines. Well on the 20-mile drive to Oklahoma I get pulled over on a Sunday afternoon for doing 77 in a 70. I honestly wasn’t aware of my speed because it was an open road and because my Dad and I were singing along to the Aida soundtrack on the top of our lungs. I was so upset about the ticket, but my Dad comforted me and made me feel better, he always did. After the casino, we came back to my apartment, rearranged furniture, and just hung out.

I didn’t want him to leave. I had a sinking feeling about everything. That was the day he told me he was getting gastric bypass over a lap band. I wasn’t a fan of his decision to have either surgery, particularly not gastric bypass. He was 6'2 and 300-325 pounds MAYBE. He has lost 100 pounds through diet and exercise when I was in high school and he kept it off for 8 years before quickly gaining it back after he retired. I was disappointed that he was resorting to surgery. He had been talking about lap band for 6 months and talked to many doctors, went to consults etc. Then within a week of his surgery, his doctor talks him into gastric bypass.

His surgery was Thursday, a week before Thanksgiving. 3 days later that Sunday morning, November 18, 2017, my phone rings at 6:30am. I knew before I answered the phone that he was dead. He was still in the hospital and he essentially bled out internally. A blood transfusion and proper care could have saved his life. I was 2.5 hours away in North Texas not having been fully informed or able to fully comprehend post-op complications and too naive to realize I needed to come down. No twentysomething really thinks their Dad is going to die. I had just spent the prior Sunday with him and was scheduled to come down to Dallas Tuesday for the night before flying to NY for Thanksgiving.

I was devastated, I still am. My whole entire world forever changed. Everything about that day and the weeks and months that followed, including a failed wrongful death lawsuit due to the Texas good old boys club, was a nightmare. I sometimes wish I could “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” much of it.

He was 58, I was 24, and my sister was not quite 22. None of us were ready for him to be gone forever. My sister and I had already lost him once in 1998 when my parents separated and he moved out. To quote a friend who wrote about her Dad on his one year anniversary “I feel both lucky to have had my dad for so many years and angry that he was taken from me when I and he were too young. If I know anything better today than I did last year, it is exactly how complicated and messy life and death and grief are.”

My story is a complicated one on many levels. It’s a lot to bear, especially around the Holidays. Family drama and a Mother that I have a terrible relationship with makes things extra hard. There is no winning with her ever, my Dad was one of the few who really understood. I miss having him on my team. The sad reality is the 11 years that he’s been gone have also led to the 11 worst years in my relationship with my mom. A relationship that was rocky to begin with due to her alcoholism and emotional abuse.

The complications of life and death and grief were something I wasn’t expecting and it really causes tremendous pain. However, out of tragedy, I was finally able to find the motivation to get healthy and fit. I did the work, no shortcuts, no fad diets, and most importantly no surgery.

To quote a message from another friend years ago, about losing her mom, "Sometimes it takes the death of a loved one to wake us up. I consider that a lasting gift from my parent.” I found such comfort and hope in those words. My Daddy didn’t need that surgery and didn’t need to die. Sadly he did, but I refuse to let my weight control my life. I also couldn’t have his death be in vain. So in 2010, I started running, I took charge of my health. I also started fundraising for Accelerate Brain Cancer Cure (ABC2) since most people who have lost loved ones find solace in charity work and there wasn’t a community for my loss out there. So I adopted David Cook’s charity of choice since watching American Idol during those dark months that followed helped me get through each week.

And here I am 11 years later and in the best shape of my life thus far. I thank my Dad for that lasting gift no matter how painful it’s been. I only wish he was here to see me now and the wonderful all-around person I am today.

I’ll leave you with this. One quote I remember my Dad telling to me in a time of struggle in my life was, “Plant your own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” That quote has meant so much to me over the years. YOU only have one life and YOU need to make the most of out of, right now.

Love you Daddy.

RDJ 4/25/49-11/18/07

[baejacob]

hi! I'm just getting into the boyz and was wondering if you had any recommendations on how to learn all their names? I've watched a bunch of their videos on youtube but am still having trouble identifying everyone...

hello bb!! what i would recommend is watching their vlive videos, especially the ones with all 12 of them on the thumbnail! they always introduce themselves in the very beginning and hold up their name-tags. here are the ones that are subbed:

their very first vlive 

after their first fanmeet

before flower snack (their show)

more here from thesubz youtube!

also, if you haven’t already i recommend that you watch every episode of flower snack shop (which are all subbed)! one of many things i liked about the show is how each one of the boyz’ unique personalities were showcased evenly, and i think it would really help to associate those traits with their looks to remember them hehe (open the boyz also does a great job at defining them by their personalities/quirks)

BUT if you are short on time (each ep is like an hour long) ep.8 had a relay of all of them describing each other which is 100000% GOLDEN:

click here and then skip to 29:42 for the relay

more under the cut (i talk too much)

so what i usually do for groups i wanna stan but have trouble remembering the members, is listing a few practical and easy-to-remember things about them. so let’s do it together for the boyz my lovely anonie!!!! sidenote: they are all visuals 

KEVIN (feb 23 1998) & 2. HWALL (march 9 2000)

i am doing these two together because i know they’re easy to mix up (they’re TWINS lmao) so i’m going to try to sort out some of their differences

here’s kevin (named after kevin from home alone):

-his hair is always styled and his forehead always exposed-a cute n thin upper lip lol-strong brows-an english speaker-vocal/piano/artist (has golden hands, can do everything)

here’s hwall: 

-hair also always styled to expose his forehead-strong brows-has a helix piercing and often wears dangling earrings-eye smile!!!!!!!!-a FASHIONISTA-contemporary dancer, rapper + vocal

THE DIFFERENCE?-i think hwall’s features are overall sharper that he looks cold and chic whereas kevin looks....... soft-what are some difference u see op??????? my mind can’t function rn hagijdsk

     3. SANGYEON (nov 4 1996)

-a MAN........... thicc thighs!!!!!!!!-has a dimple on his right cheek and he is ALWAYS smiling-when he smiles his entire face lights up-leader, vocal

     4. JACOB (may 30 1997)

-not that i’m biased or anything but he is a full on angel-his eyelid fold is pretty prominent-speaks english (and his voice is very very soft)-vocal, guitar

     5. YOUNGHOON (august 8 1997)

-he said it himself that he has a big head, i think his face shape is long (n extremely handsome)-the tallest i believe (so you will be able to point him out in group pics)-he was in ioi’s whatta man mv, john park’s dnd-vocal, he has a very strong and classic voice

     6. HYUNJAE (sept 13 1997)

-he has twinkling eyes and his lips always look so soft and pretty-very laughable and weird but shy in front of fans-he kind of seems scary but he is literally the complete 360 of that (unless he’s acting re: prank on juyeon in flower snack ep2)-vocal, dance

     7. JUYEON (jan 15 1998)

-plays basketball (so does jacob but i forgot to put it up there oops)-he’s so PURE, innocent and kind of naive -his jawline is pretty square like his chin is not a V/sharp-a sharp n beautiful nose-dance, vocal

     8. NEW (april 26 1998) 

-has very pouty lips, when he poses he looks like an actual model-his double eyelid is very thick (idk how else to describe it pls forgive me)-soft voice (the easiest to tell apart imo) and both his talking & singing voice are so wonderful to listen to-i used to think he was cold/scary-ish but he is soft and talks/laughs a lot-vocal

     9. Q (nov 5 1998)

-easiest way to remember him is Q => KYU => KYUTE => CUTE (he’s the QTEST human on earth i swear!!!!!)-long neck-deep dimples-a tiny figure (his waist is so small!!!!)-dance, center (in their predebut dance routines, he is ALWAYS in the middle)

     10. JUHAKNYEON (mar 9, 1999)

-to describe in one two words: adorable and lovable (couldnt choose one)-his eye shape is so pretty, kind of like a cat-eye-jeju boy, has a pig farm, loves to eat-his smile is contagious!!!!!! -dance, vocal, face

     11. SUNWOO (april 12 2000)

-rap king!!!!! (was on high school rapper)-his lips are very plump-officially has the biggest head in the boyz i love him-his hair style is always the same (down, bangs)-rap, vocal

     12. ERIC (december 22 2000)

-cool and cute maknae-i think he has a little bit of a lisp :’)-tall nose!!!-speaks english, very outgoing and not shy-i think he looks like nct dream’s jeno-rap, dance

WHEW isn’t this an essay! if you need more resources to get to know them, many creators here on tumblr have made many amazing posts:

1hyungseo’s INTRO. THE BOYZ

incorrecttheboyz’s pptx GET TO KNOW THE BOYZ

kimseokjins’ INTRODUCING THE BOYZ

and THEBOYZNET is everything the boyz! everything else you need to find is there.

on twitter @/zhuhaknyeon & @/itsjuyeon are my go-to for updates, subbed content and more!

hopefully i was of any help ;___; if all else fails, pls don’t hesitate to slide into my dms and we can talk n scream about the boyz together and i will do my best to help you more!

[makeup-wonder-woman]

A Soulmate to remember chap 7

A/N- Hey guys! Just wanted you to know that my request box is open and empty

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Tags: @welcometothecity, @miss-nerdalots,@marvelsimaginess, @naturalnation123 , @suavehayes (let me know if I missed you/you want to be tagged) so I can add you to the list! Hope you enjoyed!

TW: Churches? Otherwise, none

Y/N- Your name 

L/N- Last Name

Word count: 1,863

You were sitting in an extra little sitting room, and You had just finished checking up on all of your college classes, and making sure you had completed all of the homework, when your mother let out a shrill call, “Y/N- phone!”

“Make sure you don’t listen in this time,” You call back a you reached over to the still-operable landline- that your mother refuses to get rid of -with your free hand. I pick it up and press the button, “Hello, Y/N L/N speaking.”

“Hey.”

You immediately stop typing on your laptop and set it aside on the couch, “Jason! How are you, I saw a little bit of the situation on the TV - are you okay?”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, but cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, Yeah, a little bruised up, but I’m fine.”

You let out the breath, “Good, good, I’m glad, I knew you could probably take care of yourself, but still.”

Jason was silent for a moment, and you didn’t know wether to break the silence or wait until he felt like talking, and before you could make your decision he spoke, “So, I, uh, found your cellphone today.”

You blinked in surprise, “Really? You did? I ah, mean Thank you, but, uh, when in the world did you find time to find it?”

Jason was smirking, you could tell by his tone, “Oh, just found a little time, no big deal. When can I get it too you, I figured you need it.”

You nodded, “yeah, say I’ve got work in the morning, would you like to come with me to-“

The phone started ringing and You muttered under your breath when you noticed it was your boss, ‘hey it’s my boss, I should really take this… could I put you on hold real quick?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks I’l make it quick, I promise.”

You quickly put Jason on hold before accepting the call from your boss, Steph who is quick to ask, “Oh, my gosh I saw on the news about your Uncle’s party- are you okay?”

You laughed, “Yeah Steph, I’m fine, just surprised you haven’t asked yet.”

Steph squealed, “Oh- M-Gee, about Jason Wayne meeting his soul mate, I was gonna, do you know who the mystery woman is?”

You giggled put a, “Yep.”

“Who?!?”

“Guess.”

“Nuh-huh!”

“Got his first words right on my ankle!”

"Congrats girl! and here I thought you’d be working for us for eternity.”

“HEY! I have no intention to leave the Nursery just yet, da’ babies would be crushed and that wouldn’t be fair to you. Speaking of, why did you call?”

“Just making sure you know that you need to be at work at eight, also the evening activities have been canceled, so you’re free.”

“Thanks for the check up. I gotta go, but I’ll give you all the details on the soul mate thing tomorrow, but you’re not allowed to tell a tabloid or something.”

“My lips are sealed, I promise! bye!”

“Bye,” You said and as soon as Steph hung up on you, you quickly took Jason off of hold, “Sorry abut that, but I’m back.”

“It’s no trouble,” Jason told you, “So you were asking?”

You took a breath to steady yourself, but lost the nerve to invite him to your church. What if he get uncomfortable? You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, “Right, So I work at the church down on 60th and Main, but I’m sure you know that, and I was wondering if you’d just like to come by and drop the phone off. I work from eight to noon usually.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great,” You chatted back enthusiastically, and almost cringed at your tone, ‘I’ll see you then!”

"See you then.”

You almost forgot, but remember right before you say good bye, “OH! I was wondering.. do you do… after hours every night?”

“Mostly. Why?”

You couldn’t help but swallow a bit hard, but took the phone away from your ear to muffle the sound, then put it back to ask “Are you gonna go out tonight?”

“Probably.”

“Okay. Break a leg, but not your own, okay? The would put a damper on tomorrow.”

“Got it, I’ll do my best,” Jason told you a smile creeping into his voice, “See you then.”

With that you both hang up.

Jason set his cellphone down at the table. Mrs. Wayne look up, “How is she?”

Jason look up at his adoptive mother- okay she was basically his mother- and smiled, “Good. I’m dropping her phone of for her and then we’ll probably do lunch.”

Mrs. Wayne smiled, “She seems like a really nice young woman. I like her.”

Jason smiled, “I’m glad you do Ma.”

Mrs. Wayne raised an eyebrow at her son, “Something the matter?”

Jason shrugged, “She just seems… normal. I’d hate to take that from her.”

Mrs. Wayne stood and hugged her son, “Trust me Jason, she’s your soul mate, she’s going to somehow be far from normal. I can tell.” Jason frowned at his mother’s words, but before he could ask her what she meant, she was up and leaving the room saying, “I have to go into town. I’ll be back later!”

You got up early the next morning and quickly dressed and applied a small amount of make-up like normal. You wore your work uniform, a pair of jeans-and a purple polo shirt- while throwing a sundress into your bag. You then threw your hair into a high pony tail to protect it from getting pulled on or getting food or glue in it, You waved to your mom and raced to work. 

The church itself was one of the smaller ones. It had beautiful stain glass windows though, each depictions a cross, one backed with red flames and a contrasting blue back ground, the other one with a white dove flying across the cross and a green background, and the last with a purple butterfly resting on a brown cross with a clear background.

   You walked in, smiling and waving at the greeters and a few early birds. Before making your way to the nursery area. The nursery was a section of four rooms, one was an entry, with the babies and toddlers separated into one room on the left and right. Across the hall was for evening Sunday School or Wednesday night activities, most of the time. Then down the long ball past the Sanctuary and Chapel there was the Preschool area. Everyone in Kindergarten and up were in another section in the building.

 The rules were simple, two adults for every room, and one person was gate-keeper. Safe Sanctuary was taken very seriously.

  Steph, a mom of two, probably in her late twenties. She had dirty blonde hair and green eyes and was only a few inches shorter than you. She smiled and handed you a coffee, and the two of you talked before any kiddos arrived,“Ben is on his way, as is Sara.”

 I nodded and sipped the coffee,“Awesome! So details?”

“Give em, please!”

   You sighed,“Well, I was at the back of the yard, and my mother was talking with the Waynes. When they guys came streaming in, Jason and his brothers grabbed me and booked it through the back.”

“Nice, Nice- what were your first words to each other?”

“He asked if I was okay. But it was really, really rude. So… I told him I was but I called him a jackass.”

Steph threw her head back and laughed and laughed,“I knew you’d take after me!”

You laughed with her,“Yeah, you wish. How are you’re kids?”

“Good. Good.”

  You heard someone clear their throat behind you and turned, fully expecting a parent with a toddler but only saw Jason standing there with a smile on his face,“Good Morning Ladies.”

You blushed,“Good Morning Jason.” You noticed that he had on a nice buttoned up shirt and some slacks and black leather shoes. But from his tense body language you could tell that he was uncomfortable, maybe churches weren’t his thing.

  You opened the door for him and he smiled down at you, you blanked for a second but turned to Steph,“Steph this is Jason. Jason this is Steph.”

 Jason held his hand and Steph happily shook it,“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,"She smiled, and then her phone rang,"Op, it’s Ben, I have to take this.”

  She went out into the hallway and Jason pulled your phone out of his jacket pocket,“Here you go.”

  You smiled and took the familiar piece of tech with a teal metallic phone case,“Thank you!”

You powered it on and Jason pointed out,“I found it while taking a walk  through the woods yesterday after the dealing with an emergency at the office when I dropped you off.”

  You smiled as the screensaver of your mother and yourself popped up, and unlocking it revealed a picture of the bat signal in the sky that you had taken one night just ‘cause. Then You noticed all the missed calls, text and emails. Jason ran a hand through his hair,“Tim may have taken it from me and done some security upgrades and such.”

  You did notice that it seemed to run fast and smiled up at him,“Oh, I’ll have to thank him. But really thank you for getting it to me. I’ve got basically my life on it, and now it won’t be a huge headache.”

“I may have taken the liberty to program my number into it.”

“I would have thought you had.”

 Jason reached over and swiped the screen and clicked on your social media folder. A normal looking app that looked like a photo editing software with an icon that was a spotlight and a shape that reminded you of a bat, that you had never seen before and also didn’t download it. He pointed to it but refrained from tapping it,“That’s to call me when I’m at the office late. In case you need me.”

Getting the meaning, You reached for his arm and squeezed,“That… Means a lot, I-”

 Steph came stoping back in, looking a bit more angry than the time one of the parents snapped at her for not letting their kids steal a toy from another, and roughly opened the door. You released Jason and both of you turned to her,“Ben is sick. Just called.”

 Realizing how much of a headache this was gonna be, you groaned,“Crap, this is bad. Ben never gets sick, it must be horrible. Should we spray down the rooms again.”

 Steph shook her head,“No, no, he says he got it while at his other job, a sick co-worker or something. But now we’re a man down.”

“Maybe Joslin’s Mom? She’s always volunteering.”

Steph shook her head,“Nope. They’re gone for the week.”

  You brought your thumb up to your mouth, chewing on the nail as you thought. Surely there were other parents that might be willing. Anyone in this church would. It would just be who, and who would NOT be the most inconvenienced.

“I’ll do it.”

Steph and you both turned to Jason,“What,” You asked, completely shocked.

Jason shrugged,“I’ll do it, I’ll help.”

Thank you for reading, please reblog/give me some feedback!!!

[lesbianrewrites]

The Martian Chapter 13

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

CHAPTER XIII

The employees of Deyo Plastics worked double shifts. There was talk of triple shifts if NASA increased the order again. No one minded. The overtime pay was spectacular and the funding was limitless. Woven carbon thread ran slowly through the press, which sandwiched it between polymer sheets. The completed material was folded four times and glued together. The resulting thick sheet was then coated with soft resin, and taken to the hot-room to set.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 114 Now that NASA can talk to me, they won’t shut the hell up. They want constant updates on every Hab system, and they’ve got a room full of people trying to micromanage my crops. It’s awesome to have a bunch of dipshits on Earth telling me, a botanist, how to grow plants. I mostly ignore them. I don’t want to come off as arrogant here, but I’m the best botanist on the planet. One big bonus: Email! Just like the days back on Hermes, I get data dumps. Of course they relay email from friends and family, but NASA also sends along choice messages from the public. I’ve gotten email from rock stars, athletes, actors and actresses, and even the President. The coolest one is from my alma-mater, the University of Chicago. They say once you grow crops somewhere, you have officially “colonized” it. So technically, I colonized Mars. In your face, Neil Armstrong! I go to the rover five times a day to check mail. They can get a message from Earth to Mars, but they can’t get it another 10 meters to the Hab. But hey, I can’t bitch. My odds of living through this are way higher now. Last I heard, they solved the weight problem on Ares 4’s MDV. Once it lands here, they’ll ditch the heat shield, all the life support stuff, and a bunch of empty fuel tanks. Then they can take the seven of us (Ares 4’s crew plus me) all the way to Schiaparelli. They’re already working on my duties for the surface ops. How cool is that? In other news, I’m learning Morse Code. Why? Because it’s our back-up communication system. NASA figured a decades-old probe isn’t ideal as a sole means of communication. If Pathfinder craps out, I’ll spell messages with rocks, which NASA will see with satellites. They can’t reply, but at least we’d have one-way communication. Why Morse Code? Because making dots and dashes with rocks is a lot easier than making letters. It’s a shitty way to communicate. Hopefully it won’t come up.

All chemical reactions complete, the sheet was sterilized and moved to a cleanroom. There, a worker cut a strip off the edge. Dividing the strip in to squares, he put each through a series of rigorous tests. Having passed inspection, the sheet was then cut to shape. The edges were folded over, sewn, and resealed with resin. A man with a clipboard made final inspections, independently verifying the measurements, then approved it for use.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 115 The meddling botanists have grudgingly admitted I did a good job. They agree I’ll have enough food to last till Sol 900. Bearing that in mind, NASA has fleshed out the mission details of the supply probe. At first, they were working on a desperate plan to get a probe here before Sol 400. But I bought another 500 sols of life with my potato farm so they have more time to work on it. They’ll launch next year during the Hohmann Transfer Window, and it’ll take almost 9 months to get here. It should arrive around Sol 856. It’ll have plenty of food, a spare Oxygenator, Water Reclaimer, and comm system. Three comm systems, actually. I guess they aren’t taking any chances, what with my habit of being nearby when radios break. Got my first email from Hermes today. NASA’s been limiting direct contact. I guess they’re afraid I’ll say something like “You abandoned me on Mars you fuckwits!” I know the crew is surprised to hear from the Ghost of Mars Missions Past, but c’mon. I wish NASA was less of a nanny sometimes. Anyway, they finally let one email through from Martinez: Dear Watney: Sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you. You're sort of a smart-ass. And it's a lot roomier on Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks, but it's only botany (not real science) so it's easy. How's Mars? -Martinez My reply: Dear Martinez: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mom. How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the vast horizons. I tell ya, Martinez, they go on forever! -Watney

The employees carefully folded the sheet, and placed it in an argon-filled airtight shipping container. Printing out a sticker, the man with the clipboard placed it on the package. “Project Ares-3; Hab Canvas; Sheet AL102.” The package was placed on a charter plane and flown to Edwards Air Force Base in California. It flew abnormally high, at great cost of fuel, to ensure a smoother flight. Upon arrival, the package was carefully transported by special convoy to Pasadena. Once there, it was moved to the JPL White Room for probe assembly. Over the next 5 weeks, engineers in white bodysuits assembled Presupply 309. It contained AL102 as well as 12 other Hab Canvas packages.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 116 It’s almost time for the second harvest. Ayup. I wish I had a straw hat and some suspenders. My re-seed of the potatoes went well. I'm beginning to see that crops on Mars are extremely prolific, thanks to the billions of dollars worth of life support equipment around me. I now have 400 healthy potato plants, each one making lots of calorie-filled taters for my dining enjoyment. In just ten days they’ll be ripe! And this time, I’m not replanting them as seed. This is my food supply. All natural, organic, Martian-grown potatoes. Don’t hear that every day, do you? You may be wondering how I’ll store them. I can’t just pile them up; most of them would go bad before I got around to eating them. So instead, I’ll do something that wouldn’t work at all on Earth: Throw them outside. Most of the water will be sucked out by the near-vacuum; what’s left will freeze solid. Any bacteria planning to rot my taters will die screaming. In other news, I got email from Venkat Kapoor: Maia, some answers to your earlier questions: No, we will not tell our Botany Team to “Go fuck themselves.” I understand you’ve been on your own for a long time, but we’re in the loop now, and it’s best if you listen to what we have to say. The Cubs finished the season at the bottom of the NL Central. The data transfer rate just isn’t good enough for the size of music files, even in compressed formats. So your request for “Anything, oh god ANYTHING but Disco” is denied. Enjoy your boogie fever. Also, an uncomfortable side note... NASA is putting together a committee. They want to see if there were any avoidable mistakes that led you to being stranded. Just a heads-up. They may have questions for you later on. Keep us posted on your activities. -Kapoor My reply: Venkat, tell the investigation committee they’ll have to do their witch-hunt without me. And when they inevitably blame Commander Lewis, be advised I’ll publicly refute it. -Watney

The presupply probes for Ares-3 launched on 14 consecutive days during the Hohmann Transfer window. Presupply 309 was launched third. The 251 day trip to Mars was uneventful, needing only two minor course adjustments. After several aerobraking maneuvers to slow down, it made its final descent toward Acidalia Planitia. First, it endured reentry via a heat shield. Later, it released a parachute and detached the now expended shield. Once its onboard radar detected it was 30 meters from the ground, it cut loose the parachute and inflated balloons all around its hull. It fell unceremoniously to the surface, bouncing and rolling, until it finally came to rest. Deflating its balloons, the onboard computer reported the successful landing back to Earth.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 117 The Water Reclaimer is acting up. Six people will go through 18 liters of water per day. So it’s made to process 20. But lately, it hasn’t been keeping up. It’s doing 10, tops. Do I generate 10 liters of water per day? No, I’m not the urinating champion of all time. It’s the crops. The humidity inside the Hab is a lot higher than it was designed for, so the Water Reclaimer is constantly filtering it out of the air. I’m not worried about it. Water is water. The plants use it, I use it. If need be, I can piss on the plants directly. It’ll evaporate and condense on the walls. I could make something to collect it, I’m sure. Thing is, the water can’t go anywhere. It’s a closed system. Plus, I made like 600 liters from MDV fuel (remember the “explosive Hab” incident?). I could take baths and still have plenty left over. NASA, however, is absolutely shitting itself. They see the Water Reclaimer as a critical survival element. There’s no backup, and they think I’ll die instantly without it. To them, equipment failure is terrifying. To me, it’s “Tuesday.” So instead of preparing for my harvest, I have to make extra trips to and from the rover to answer their questions. Each new message instructs me to try some new solution and report the results back. So far we’ve worked out it’s not the electronics, refrigeration system, instrumentation, or temperature. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a little hole somewhere, then NASA will have 4 hours of meetings before telling me to cover it with duct tape.

Lewis and Beck opened Presupply 309. Working as best they could in their bulky EVA suits, they removed the various portions of Hab canvas and lay them on the ground. Three entire presupply probes were dedicated to the Hab. Following a procedure they had practiced hundreds of times, they efficiently assembled the pieces. Special seal-strips between the patches ensured air-tight mating. After erecting the main structure of the Hab, they assembled the three airlocks. Sheet AL102 had a hole perfectly sized for Airlock 1. Beck  stretched the sheet tight to the seal-strips on the airlock’s exterior. Once all airlocks were in place, Lewis flooded the Hab with air and AL102 felt pressure for the first time. They waited an hour. No pressure was lost; the setup had been perfect.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 118 My conversation with NASA about the Water Reclaimer was boring and riddled with technical details. So I’ll paraphrase it for you: Me: “This is obviously a clog. How about I take the it apart and check the internal tubing?” NASA: (After 5 hours of deliberation) “No. You’ll fuck it up and die.” So I took it apart. Yeah, I know. NASA has a lot of ultra-smart people and I should really do what they say. And I’m being too adversarial, considering they spend all day working on how to save my life. I just get sick of being told how to wipe my ass. Independence was one of the things they looked for when choosing Ares astronauts. It’s a 13-month mission, most of it spent many light-minutes away from Earth. They wanted people who would act on their own initiative, but at the same time, obey their Commander. If Commander Lewis were here, I’d do whatever she said, no problem. But a committee of faceless bureaucrats back on Earth? Sorry, I’m just having a tough time with it. I was really careful. I labeled every piece as I dismantled it, and laid everything out on a table. I have the schematics in the computer, so nothing was a surprise. And just as I’d suspected, there was a clogged tube. The Water Reclaimer was designed to purify urine and strain humidity out of the air (you exhale almost as much water as you piss). I’ve mixed my water with soil, making it mineral water. The minerals built up in the Water Reclaimer. I cleaned out the tubing and put it all back together. It completely solved the problem. I’ll have to do it again some day, but not for 100 sols or so. No big deal. I told NASA what I did. Our (paraphrased) conversation was: Me: “I took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.” NASA: “Dick.”

AL102 shuddered in the brutal storm. Withstanding forces and pressure far greater than its design, it rippled violently against the airlock seal-strip. Other sections of canvas undulated along their seal-strips together, acting as a single sheet, but AL102 had no such luxury. The airlock barely moved, leaving AL102 to take the full force of the tempest. The layers of plastic, constantly bending, heated the resin from pure friction. The new, more yielding environment allowed the carbon fibers to separate. AL102 stretched. Not much. Only 4 millimeters. But the carbon fibers, usually 500 microns apart, now had a gap eight times that width in their midst. After the storm abated, the lone remaining astronaut performed a full inspection of the Hab. But she didn’t notice anything amiss. The weak part of canvas was concealed by a seal-strip. Designed for a mission of 31 sols, AL102 continued well past its planned expiration. Sol after sol went by, with the lone astronaut traveling in and out of the Hab almost daily. Airlock 1 was closest to the rover charging station, so the astronaut preferred it to the other two. When pressurized, the airlock expanded slightly; when depressurized, it shrunk. Every time the astronaut used the airlock, the strain on AL102 relaxed, then tightened anew. Pulling, stressing, weakening, stretching…

LOG ENTRY: SOL 119 I woke up last night to the Hab shaking. The medium-grade sandstorm ended as suddenly as it began. It was only a category 3 storm with 50kph winds. Nothing to worry about. Still, it’s bit disconcerting to hear howling winds when you’re used to utter silence. I’m worried about Pathfinder. If the sandstorm damaged it, I’ll have lost my connection to NASA. Logically, I shouldn’t worry. The thing’s been on the surface for decades. A little gale won’t do any harm. When I head outside, I’ll confirm Pathfinder’s still functional before moving on to the sweaty, annoying work of the day. Yes, with each sandstorm comes the inevitable Cleaning of the Solar Cells. A time honored tradition by hearty Martians such as myself. It reminds me of growing up in Chicago and having to shovel snow. I’ll give my dad credit; he never claimed it was to build character or teach me the value of hard work. “Snow-blowers are expensive,” he used to say. “You’re free.” Once, I tried to appeal to my mom. “Don’t be such a wuss,” She suggested. In other news, It’s seven sols till the harvest, and I still haven’t prepared. For starters, I need to make a hoe. Also, I need to make an outdoor shed for the potatoes. I can’t just pile them up outside. The next major storm would cause The Great Martian Potato Migration. Anyway, all that will have to wait. I’ve got a full day today. After cleaning the solar cells, I have to check the whole solar array make sure the storm didn’t hurt it. Then I’ll need to do the same for the rover. I better get started.

Airlock 1 slowly depressurized to 1/90th of an atmosphere. Watney, donning an EVA suit, waited for it to complete. She had done it literally hundreds of times. Any apprehension she may have had on Sol 1 was long gone. Now it was merely a boring chore before exiting to the surface. As the depressurization continued, the Hab’s atmosphere compressed the airlock and AL102 stretched for the last time. On Sol 119, the Hab breached. The initial tear was less than 1 millimeter. The perpendicular carbon fibers should have prevented the rip from growing. But countless abuses had stretched the vertical fibers apart and weakened the horizontal ones beyond use. The full force of the Hab’s atmosphere rushed through the breach. Within a tenth of a second, the rip was a meter long, running parallel to the seal-strip. It propagated all the way around until it met its starting point. The airlock was no longer attached to the Hab. The unopposed pressure violently launched the airlock like a cannonball as the Hab exploded. Inside, the surprised Watney slammed against the airlock’s back door with the force of the expulsion. The airlock flew 40 meters before hitting the ground. Watney, barely recovered from the earlier shock, now endured another as she hit the front door, face first. Her faceplate took the brunt of the blow, the safety glass shattering into hundreds of small cubes. Her head slammed against the inside of the helmet, knocking her senseless. The airlock tumbled across the surface for a further 15 meters. The heavy padding of Watney’s suit saved her from many broken bones. She tried to make sense of the situation, but was barely conscious. Finally done tumbling, the airlock rested on its side amid a cloud of dust. Watney, on her back, stared blankly upward through the hole in her shattered faceplate. A gash in her forehead trickled blood down her face. Regaining some of her wits, she got her bearings. Turning her head to the side, she looked through the back door’s window. The collapsed Hab rippled in the distance, a junkyard of debris strewn across the landscape in front of it. Then, a hissing sound reached her ears. Listening carefully, she realized it was not coming from her suit. Somewhere in the phone-booth sized airlock, a small breach was letting air escape. She listened intently to the hiss. Then she touched her broken faceplate. Then she looked out the window again. “You fucking kidding me?” She said.

[outright-geekery]

Infinite 7 #1

Publisher Action Labs

Writer Dave Dwonch

Artist Arturo Mesa

Talk about a fast start to a series?  This is one to chat about then.  This preview was highly touted with good reason.  The open looks like any other standard black ops style super team getting ready to head right into a mission, oh wait who’s that kid setting in the corner, wonder what type of over the top super ridiculous power he has? teleportation? super smart? shape shifter?  He’s obviously the new kid literally & figuratively, Anthony Zane finds himself knee-deep in the Super Solider Life.  Great use of a flashback to catch the reader up to speed, I don’t think I’ll spoil anything by saying they do a good job of setting Tony up as an average teenager.  Also we get a good introduction to Smash Brannagan, & Master Zhen, & the rest of the team.

Art is reminiscent of mid 90s action aventure something in the vein of early Image  or Dark Horse books, which seems to fit the vibe of the story. That is exactly the best compliment I can pay, the art isn’t taking away from the writing, or will be taken overpowering it, it melds just right.  It’s not my favorite of all time, but certainly compliments the story.

The writing has the reader wondering which turn we’ll be taking next.  It is a fun read with plenty of characters to fill in as the series progresses.  I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the Tony Zane & Smash Brannagan, two different people in almost every conceivable way & yet linked from the start.  The style has a bit of super hero, a bit of adventure & wrap it all into a teenage angst tale?  I always like for a writer to embrace the story & not hedge, I don’t foresee that here, it feels like the direction is set & it’s already kicked the door down & guns are ablaze’ already.

Overall, I’m already chomping at the bit for issue #2.  So much back story to be had & so much waiting to unfold in the future.  Seriously how do you cram that into a first issue & not feel over done?  I don’t know, but it worked for me.

Art- 3.5

Writing-4.5

Overall-4.0

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Infinite 7 #1 Preview 1

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[amazon_link asins=’B01MSPJCNB’ template=’ProductCarousel’ store=’Ryan Gaumer’ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’68a41998-e66c-11e6-b9d7-1b47b9b92353′]

Infinite 7 #1 Infinite 7 #1 Publisher Action Labs Writer Dave Dwonch Artist Arturo Mesa Talk about a fast start to a series?  

[stompsite]

dev blog #0000 - Origin Story

You might have heard that I’m working on a video game. This is true. I am working with some utterly incredible folks on a video game. We call it Game One.

I’ve tried to get various game project started over the years. When I first got sick, I ended up with inflammation in my brain that messed me up somethin fierce. Reading, writing, programming, all gone. I worked really hard, and I got the writing back over half a decade or so. Reading too. Nowhere near as good as I was, but passable. Programming, though? That never came back. Maybe, with treatment. Maybe. It would be impossible without other people, though.

Every time I’d suggest a project--that first person XCOM, the tiny linear shooter, heck, the little business management game, the strategy game--people would get all enthusiastic about it, I’d draw up a design document, and, of course, nothing would come of it. Getting people organized online is like wrangling cats. The furthest we got, some art folks actually did art, didn’t tell anyone, played Minecraft, and wondered why we hadn’t made a game of the art we didn’t know existed.

Then along comes my friend Phillip Bastien. I’d hit on this new idea for a story, I thought it was great, I was telling him about it, and he goes silent. Something like ten minutes later, he hits me up with a drawing of a character I’ve been calling the Plague Knight. Not a great name, but it gets the job done, and the drawing? Well, wow. It was awesome.

One of the great things about Phillip is that he gets what’s in my head better than most. The only difference between my vision and his is that I had the guy with candles floating above the head, but I think Phillip’s version works better.

Here’s the most recent finished piece:

We tossed some stuff back and forth. Visuals started taking shape. I’m lucky to have a friend like Phillip. One thing I’ve learned is that the greatest physical motivator is having a visual. People don’t believe the game is real until they’ve got concept art. That’s the key thing. I’d never had good concept art before. Mine is awful, and I don’t know many artists willing to sketch some stuff up to help the project move along. This game would not have happened without Phillip.

It was readily apparent that this shooter was too big; I think an early description framed it as “an RPG shooter that blends elements of Halo, The Legend of Zelda, and Shadow of the Colossus with the movement of Mirror’s Edge” or something. Too big. Way too big. Not like the smaller games. Plus, single-player shooters don’t really sell that well unless they’re big, open-world titles with big brand names behind them.

I knew that making a competitive shooter was simpler--it’s why most mod teams (and Valve, which has that weird flat structure thing) work best with them--but competitive indie shooters don’t sell. There’s a reason most of you aren’t out there playing Nexuiz, Screencheat, Contagion, or Toxikk. Heck, competitive shooters rarely do well in any space.

Co-op I figured we could do. Payday: The Heist and Payday 2 had done pretty well, for instance. Borderlands games are pretty popular. Gamers seem to enjoy cooperative shooters, and good ones sell reasonably well. Horde was Gears of War 3′s biggest mode; Halo fans begged 343i for a return to Halo’s Firefight mode. This genre seemed like a great place to start. Plus, I, and the people I’d been talking about making a game with, were all experts in the cooperative shooter space. If there’s one style of game design we knew, it was this.

I had a world I liked. A visual approach that felt right. And the right genre. I took to calling it Game One, because nothing I tried felt right. Turns out some amazing friends, like my buddies Cameron, Kevin, and Jacob, were into it. We got started properly early in 2016, though various real-life events (graduation, moving, illness, computer death, learning how to use source control) conspired against us. Progress is being made. It’s slow-going, but it’s happening. This game is real.

I’m trying to describe a nonlinear process in a linear way; this may seem kinda disconnected because of that. Sorry. Things will start making more sense in future blog posts.

Personally, I don’t want to talk about the game world much; I don’t like reading about other people’s lore until they achieve the end result. In general, I think a lot of folks get caught up in talking about their lore and how interesting they think their lore is, and that’s all well and good, but it’s not what interests me. I’d rather surprise you with a cool universe you can explore in-game than go into detail about it right now. What I can do is tell you about the most interesting ideas.

Game design is, ultimately, a means of problem solving, and Game One is meant to address a bunch of problems, which I’ll talk about in the coming weeks.

Problem 1: The Abilities Need To Be Interesting

One of my comrades, Kevin, expressed a big problem he had with a lot of shooters, which is that a lot of characters have just one ability. In Borderlands, you pick a class, and that class uses that ability and that ability only. Same thing in Destiny. You have multiple sub-classes, but it takes time for abilities to charge, so when you switch sub-classes, you have to start over from 0, so effectively, you have just one ability in most missions.

This isn’t a bad style of design, mind you, but it is predominant, and it can get old after a while. We wanted to have provide players with a more interesting way to play.

Problem 2: The Guns Need To Be Interesting

You’d think this would be a given. If someone is making a shooter, shouldn’t their weapons be interesting? Unfortunately, way too many shooters utilize the same basic weapon paradigms; the resulting combat rarely requires thought from the players. How do you make shooter guns interesting again?

Problem 3: How to Eliminate The Boredom Created By Min-Maxers

One of my good friends became a bad person to play games with. He was directly responsible for my waning interest in Payday 2, because he wanted to play the same two missions over and over again, because this let him earn the maximum possible XP. This gets boring after a while because, well, you’re only playing two missions.

Destiny faces a similar problem, especially early on; repeating content gets boring, especially when it’s predictable. When content becomes repetitive, players naturally want to start optimizing. Pretty soon, Destiny got to a point where players all had to use similar loadouts (Gjallarhorn was the optimal rocket launcher, for instance) or risk being dissed by their peers. I remember playing one particular match where I started using a gun I liked, only to be asked, with disgust, why I would ever use that gun, when I should be using more ideal weaponry. “Because it’s fun” was met with jeers.

This goal was important to me personally; I’m a big shooter fan in part because I love shooting creatively. It’s frustrating to hear a friend say “this shooter was boring because I only used one gun the entire game, but it was the best gun.”

I think having a good metagame is important, but all too often, players find ways to run with optimal loadouts or play styles, and I wanted to do my best to circumvent that, encouraging players to try new things rather than doing the same thing over and over again.

Problem 4: Movement Needs To Make A Comeback

Shooters ought to have interesting movement. Since I started messing around with Game One, a bunch of games, like Destiny, Doom, and Titanfall have launched, pushing the need for movement into the foreground. Awesome. I still think there’s some room for improvement, so I’ll be talking about that at length really soon.

There’s a bunch of other stuff I could talk about, but that’s for future devblogs. Tonight, I just wanted to let you know what the plan is: in between my normal games criticism stuff, I’m going to start showing how I’m trying to practice what I preach, and, way more importantly, how absolutely incredible my brothers in arms are, and the lessons we’ve learned along the way.

Anyways, we’re making the game now. It’s a real thing. It’s playable. We’ve got dedicated servers working, and we can play the game together. It’s rough, of course (a lack of manpower working part time will do that to you), but it’s getting there. Hopefully, we’ll find a cool indie publisher willing to back us so we can get this thing out the door soon.

Stick around, would you?

[colorfulsuitdestiny-blog]

What would be a great (cheap) beginner motorcycle for a 16 year old?

"What would be a great (cheap) beginner motorcycle for a 16 year old?

I have been looking at a 1982 honda nighthawk 450 with 13k miles on it tht was in decent shape tht i could probably get it for 900$ (and i found out insurance would be 125$ a year).....i want to broaden my search and i was wondering if there are any other bikes out there that are good beginner bikes that are cheap (not AT ALL more than 1200$)

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://averageinsurancecosts.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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how come my coworker pays only 20 bucks per paycheck for the health insurance, and i need to pay 50 bucks?""

What to put in to get the lowest/best insurance rate quotes?

Do I need to be honest? I own the vehicle. I am starting to get a new quote. For primary use of vehicle what should I put; Commute (school), Commute (work), Pleasure, or Business? I use it to get to work. I am also being asked how many mileage driven to go to work or mileage one-way, and the annual mileage. Is there a trick to getting the lowest rate on what to put? I am a very careful driver. I have not had any accidents in the past 3 years (nor anything major prior). I know these insurance companies only want to know about the last 3 years of my driving history. I am clean. I only need the legal state (Maryland) minimum amount to insure. Any advice on how to get the best rate quotes? I'm currently with Progressive, but might switch to Geico.""

Banking and finance or insurance and risk management?

I've been admitted to a university and now I've an option between two bachelors degree, banking and finance or insurance and risk management. I'm really confused, what do you think is a better degree to pursue in terms of future scope. thanks""

What would be a great (cheap) beginner motorcycle for a 16 year old?

I have been looking at a 1982 honda nighthawk 450 with 13k miles on it tht was in decent shape tht i could probably get it for 900$ (and i found out insurance would be 125$ a year).....i want to broaden my search and i was wondering if there are any other bikes out there that are good beginner bikes that are cheap (not AT ALL more than 1200$)

Is it worth it (in decreased insurance costs) to finish driver's ed after getting my license?

So, I got my license today, but I'm literally halfway through my driver's ed course. I was just thinking, if I pass the test, great, if not, I'll retake after the class and nbd. I honestly want to drop out since the classes are very repetitive and common-sense, and it's 15 hours I could be using on something else, but my mom disagrees... I know some insurances make you pay less if you've finished a course, but is it that significant that it would be worth it?""

State farm health insurance?

Does anyone have state farm health insurance? I've had car insurance with them since I was 16 and was considering getting health through them too, is it alright insurance or is it not so great?""

Backdates homeowners insurance?r=1268786067?

Can an insurance company back date homeowners insurance?

How much for motorcycle insurance on a 2002 Kawasaki Ninja 250?

I'm 24 years old and will be a beginner at this, I have never driven a car so this will be my first automobile. I live in los angeles,ca. No stupid answers!!""

I have a question about business insurance?

I just received the Insurance Premium Quote and General Commercial Liability from this Insurance company. In the last page they claim that their company is not licensed by the state of California (nonadmitted or surplus line). It says: The Insurer is not subject to the financial solvency regulation and enforcement which applies to California Licensed Insurers. The Insurer does not participate in any of the insurance guaranteed funds created by California Law. Therefore these funds can not pay your claims or protect your assets if the insurer becomes insolvent and is unable to make payments as promised . So I checked the www.insurance.ca.gov and this guys are there, as active. However, should I trust them? What this notice exactly mean?""

2003 Hyundai tiburon 2dr coupe. Insurance price?

So I'm a 17 year old girl.I'm getting my first car. Idk if where I'm from makes a difference, I'm from texas. Would a 2003 Hyundai tiburon 2dr coupe be considered a sports car on the insurance? If so, how much more would it be vs. a normal car? Please help me!!!!""

Car Insurance?

Ok, first does anyone know which states do not require car insurance? Second question is do you have to have full coverage on a financed car? No silliness here real answers.""

What's the cheapest insurance for an 18 year old?

Where can I get insurance coverage for a very low monthly price?...for an 18 year old

Should I get $500 deductible or $250 on car insurance?

does it make sense to get higher deductible to save premium or is that a scam? clubny2007 coming soon

Help Buy Auto Insurance!?

Hi, Just bought a care and now as a second step looking for a auto insurance, must be cheap, reliable and have a good history of dealing with auto insurance. Regards!""

Car insurance in New York?

where can i find something affordable

Good auto insurance providers?

I am 21 and just getting first car and looking for some good insurance companies with affordable rates?

Can I keep my license without insurance?

I live in New York state, and have been a licensed driver since September. I pay my own insurance, but due to the high cost and the fact that I drive maybe once a month I don't want to keep paying. My parents told me that in order to keep your license, you must pay or else hand it in, but today some teachers and classmates said that you just can't drive. Who is right? I don't want to hand in the license and have to retake the test in a few months for college. I looked on DMV but saw nothing. Any sites that will have the information? (I drive my parents car, I don't own one)""

Good health insurance for a small family?

My husband and i are looking to health insurance for our family and i was wondering if any one knew of a good company (in Florida) that was affordable. He is 21, I'm 17 and our daughter is 10 months. We are also expecting another one in November and need prenatal care as soon as possible. Thanks.""

What insurance plan is most affordable and supports therapy?

Hi, I've been seeking good therapy since I was 17, I'm just wondering, what insurance plan is the most affordable as well as obviously covers therapy? Thank you""

How much per year does health insurance cost for an average 50 year old with no employment benefits?

just a single person. no previous health problems. I realize this depends on specific circumstances, but you can ballpark estimate it for me thanks.""

""How much would insurance be on a peugeot 106, female, 17?""

Hi, im 17 and should be passed my driving test by christmas. I want a peugeot 106 and was wondering does anybody know how much (roughly) insurance would be? i live in a small town, in a quiet cul de sac and the car will be parked in my driveway (if this narrows it down)! thanks""

What is the best affordable Medicare supplement insurance for Indiana?

What is the best affordable Medicare supplement insurance for Indiana?

Whats the best and cheapest car insurance?

Whats the best and cheapest car insurance?

What is the cheapest insurance company to switch to for a descent price after a DUI?

I am 23 and have a 2005 chevy silverado single cab. It's paid off in full. I usually like to have basic & Im on my dads plan which is about 3-400 a year. & they are now increasing it to 800$. I would like to switch to a company that I can pay less to.

If the supreme court finds health care law unconstitutional would i have to buy car insurance?

most of the health care debate is about weather the government can make a person buy a specific product such as health insurance. If the court finds that the individual mandate is unconstitutional would this mean that the government would not be allowed to require people to buy car insurance. and if so would I be able to take this to my state supreme court to question the constitutionality of having to buy car insurance?

How can i get a car by using a cheap car insurance ?

I am in need.

""Im a 14 years experianced driver , going to reside in USA, Wi, soon ; how will be my Auto Insurance policy?""

Im a 32 years old male and I have been driving for past 14 years. Im going to move to USA , Wisconsin , I would like to know how will be my Auto Insurance Policy? Will I be considered as a new driver , Since I belive I would have to apply for an American Driving license?""

Can I pay a AAA Auto Insurance bill online?

I'm in California but I don't know if that makes any diffrence.

Best place to buy health insurance?

Going to retire but need health insurance for family, only 55""

What would be a great (cheap) beginner motorcycle for a 16 year old?

I have been looking at a 1982 honda nighthawk 450 with 13k miles on it tht was in decent shape tht i could probably get it for 900$ (and i found out insurance would be 125$ a year).....i want to broaden my search and i was wondering if there are any other bikes out there that are good beginner bikes that are cheap (not AT ALL more than 1200$)

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/affordable-health-insurance-ms-gregory-roberts"

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN LAW

But I think that, like species, languages will form evolutionary trees, with dead-ends branching off all over it. They'd prefer not to deal with customers, and a Web browser.1 This is supposed to do where they happen to be the next big thing. And server-based software, all you need is a browser connected to the outside world as to inoculate themselves against arrogance. There's nothing more valuable than the advice of someone whose judgement you trust. If you have to rewrite to beat an essay into shape. Good founders have a healthy respect for reality.2 You could combine one of these chips with some memory 256 bytes in the first Altair, and front panel switches, and you'd have a working computer.

And so began the study of ancient texts had such prestige that it remained the backbone of education until the late 19th century. That's orders of magnitude better than desktop software.3 How well you're doing a few months later will depend more on how happy you made those users than how many there were of them.4 But when I finally tried living there for a bit last year, and the huge scale of the successes means we can afford to be. If you can find just one user who really needs something and can act on that need, you've got a toehold in making something people want. The Mac was popular with hackers when it first came out, he said that while it was a new type of application. That's a stricter standard than admiration.5 Obviously that's false: anything else people make can be well or badly designed; why should this be uniquely impossible for programming languages? You're not limited to small, artificial focus groups. They were all just side projects.

For a big company it's necessarily the dominant one.6 I walked into the final, the main thing I'd be feeling was curiosity about which of my questions would turn up on the exam. And be imaginative about the axis along which the replacement occurs. The big thing in LA seems to be something you write in order to read Aristotle. One developer told me: As a result of their process, the App Store, and it's gratuitously stupid to do that current technology won't let you? Imagine if we were visited by aliens.7 This is not only possible, it's how Apple, Yahoo, Google, and Facebook have all had hacker-centric culture. Perl, Python, and Ruby. It's in fields like the arts or writing or technology that the larger environment matters. Problems Why is it that research can be done by collaborators and design can't?

If you're not omniscient, you just stop working on it. It's Parkinson's Law running in reverse. So how do you choose between ideas? Kenneth Clark is the best nonfiction writer I know of, on any subject. There's not even a tradeoff here.8 Finding startup ideas is to take it for granted.9 Programmers and system administrators traditionally each have their own separate worries.10 4-8 weeks to get that bug fix approved, leaving users to think that iPhone apps sometimes just don't work. That makes Wodehouse doubly impressive, because it meant they could help the users, but also all the ideas that implementing it would have led to. As of this writing, Cambridge seems to be a case of premature optimization.11

It looks as if it will be because it's more convenient. I run into difficulties, I notice that I tend to conclude with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a job. When we talk to founders about good and bad investors, one of the greats, but he's an especial hero to me because of Lisp.12 That means for each big winner we could pick a thousand companies that returned nothing and still end up 10x ahead. Even Bill Gates made that mistake.13 So if you want to start a startup one day, but who else is investing? The strategy works just as well if you do. You can, however, trust your gut.14 For most successful startups it's a necessary part of the core of a language as a set of axioms, and the best research solves problems that are not even rich—leaders of important open source projects, for example. In the past when I bought things from Apple it was an unalloyed pleasure. Most people, most of the special-purpose objects around us are going to take over the world is not just something to worry about bugs, especially since you probably introduced them in the course of adding some feature they were asking for. As an angel, you have a lot.

Notes

They'd freak if they were forced to stop, the jet engine, but I took so long. Parker, op. Well, of course the source of income and b was popular in Germany told me: One YC founder wrote after reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. Not even being deliberately misleading by focusing on people who chose the wrong ISP.

Viaweb we once had a tiny. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the distinction between the subset that will be maximally profitable when each employee is paid in proportion to the minimum you need is a rock imitating a butterfly that happened to get kids into better colleges, I believe, which shows how unimportant the Arpanet which became the twin centers from which Renaissance civilization radiated.

Managers are presumably wondering, how could I get attacked a lot of great things were created mainly to make peace. Some founders listen more than one who passes. So if it's dismissed, it's software that was more expensive, a lot.

Algorithms that use it are called naive Bayesian. It's a bit much to maintain their percentage. I may try to make it easier to sell, or want tenure, avoid the conclusion that tax rates don't tell 5 year olds the truth to say that hapless meant unlucky. You won't always get a job after college, they could not have gotten where they are.

I've twice come close to 18% of GDP, which would harm their all-important GPA.

8%, Linux 11. I talk about real income ignores much of a company, meaning master. Patrick Collison wrote At some point has a title. They have the determination myself.

And since there are those that made a lot of startups is that you're small and use whatever advantages that brings. It may be heading for a group of Europeans who said he'd met with a no-shop clause.

Some of the venture business.

Look at those goddamn fleas, they may then, depending on how much of it. But there are lots of options, of course it was the least VC-like. You know in their early twenties.

When I was as bad an employee as this place was a kind of secret about the Airbnbs during YC is how much of a severe-looking man with a few people have to make up startup ideas is to carry a beeper? European art. Even now it's hard to say that intelligence is the way investors say No. And I have omitted one type: artists trained to paint from life, and a wing collar who had worked for a while ago, and the restrictions on what people will feel a strong one.

This is why it's such a large chunk of this policy may be loud and disorganized, but mediocre investors almost all do, and that most people than subsequent millions.

This probably undervalues the company will be pressuring you to acknowledge as well as good ones. That's the best are Goodwin Procter, Wilmer Hale, and a few hours of advice from your neighbor's fifteen year old, a player who persists in trying such things will do that. Startups are businesses; the point of view: either an IPO. In the average major league baseball player's salary during the entire period since the war on drugs show, bans often do more with less, then add beans don't drain the beans, and as a whole is becoming less fragmented, the average car restoration you probably do make everyone else and put our worker on a desert island, hunting and gathering fruit.

Ten years later.

It's conceivable that the path from ideas to startups has recently been getting smoother.