#information theory assignment help

[thebluediner]

FINALS WEEK OR OUR FINAL WEEK

roommate billie au

a/n: everybody clap ahhh I'm loving these roommate bille fics and headcanons

•roomatebillie who tells you to wake her up at specific times so she can study for her music history theory test but groans and whines when you do.

"five more minutes please" she pleads burying herself deeper into the warmth of her bed.

"yeah okay but just know you've already lost five percent with those five minutes in bed" you say acting like your unbothered but you stand next to her bed with hands on your hips.

"fuck okay I'm up" billie rises from her bed huffing as she finally opens her eyes draw away from the sleep.

•rommatebillie who wakes up with your bed still untouched from yesterday and just when she's about to call you the door rattles with keys before you appear.

"damn you look like shit" billie say as if she looks any better with her bed hit flying all over her face.

"that's exactly what happens when you fall asleep on a chair at the library" your croak taking off your choose and siding into your sippers.

"woah, you did that" billie gasps looking down at the time and it's only seven in the morning.

you look at billie deadpan because claley that did happen that's the reason you look like shrek after a dump on his muddy pool before dropping all your books and bags to the ground and flopping on your bed.

•roomatebillie who was studying, well atleast trying to study and absorb information from the full print page informt of her when you called her.

"bils can you please come help me downstairs" you asked her but your voice was breathy like you've been running or something.

"with what ?" she questions already standing up frm her desk looking through the window to see if she could get any sight of you.

"billie just come" you sigh frustrated already but your breath has stopped sound ragged.

"that's what she said" billie is quick to laugh but then you drop the call immediately making her laugh even harder.

when she gets down the stairs she finnaly sees you at the bottom leaning on the wall dazed. then she sees blue boxes on the ground next to your feet.

"what are those" she's also coming closer her eyes already recognising the brand of energy drinks.

" I bought bulk red bull's for us to have during the finals" you say pointing to one of the boxes letting her know that one is going to be hers.

" you bought for me too you're so nice" billie coos with a big smile on her face before kissing your cheek before grabbing the boxes herself.

"I've always been nice" you say with your most neutral tone hidding the blush of her action.

"mmh don't lie to yourself"

•rommatebillie who once again refuses to get up from her bed and do some assignments for her finals but you're there to scare her out of bed in your own way.

"mmh the warmer the blankets the colder the future" you say in a sing sing way which billie abruptly responds too by groan and screaming into her pillow.

"you're so evil where did you even get those phrase " she says turning her head towards you her eyes peeking through the covers.

"my mom " you say laughing.

•roomate!billie who drags you along to campus traditional even though you'd pretty much have your head in your books. the traditional basically consistented of everybody coking together on campus ground and when the clock hit midnight you'll all launch into a bunch of guttering concerning screams as a way to release all the stress of exams.

"COME ON YOU'RE NOT EVEN SCREAMING!"

"I don't really feel like it" you shyly mutter looking around you a little uncertain.

"SROP BEING A LITTLE BOY BABE SCREAM!" a crack smiles through when she compared your cowardly energy to a little boy.

"FINE FINE I'LL FUCKING SCREAMING" you shout loud enough for her to hear you over many other screams.

•roomate!billie who has a mental breakdown over all the stress to do good in all her classes while maintaining her mental health.

"oh baby, it's okay really" you try and comfort her with immediately embracing her.

"but it's not, I don't get any of this shit" billie complains even more even though it comes out more muffled than anything.

her head is burried deep in the crook of your neck with her fingers tugging on your shirt.

•roomate!billie who helps you with your flashcards the morning of the exam just to refresh your mind even if it's at seven in the morning and she has no class meaning she gets up all for you.

"I mean you're almost there you're just missing an important keyword" billie says her lips thin her eyes concentrating on the coloured card among the stack in her hands.

"okay don't tell me, let me try and remember" you pace around the room trying to think of the keywords shes referring too while your lips move around reciting the main keys of the topic.

"okay love you've spent atleast five minutes on this you gotta revise it again" billie gives you hr warmest look before handing over the card to you to read over again.

"oh my god , I'm so cooked it's not even funny" you scream flopping onto your bed and screaming into the pillow.

a/n: take my offering man :( I'll add more later

[frxnkendotmp4]

IMPORTANT WARNING

This is not my usual post, and I don't plan on it being, but this is essential, and I felt like I had to share this with a community that is so dear to me. It is with a heavy heart that I come to announce this, but: If you're apart of the Tumblr decor/art/gfx/edit/resources community, it is possible that your work is being reposted in a Discord server that condones with extremist harmful hate groups, abuse of artists and graphic designers and the devaluing of their works, promotion of scam schemes, support of underage extreme labour, lack of digital safety and protection for minors, grooming and psychologically abusing vulnerable minors and much more. Without your consent or knowledge. ----------------------- "Decorations for Servers, or popularly known as DFS, is a community hosted on the chat application Discord, with the goal of being a hub for sharing decorative resources and creating a community centred around these themes. (...)"

" (...) Although it has a harmless premise and, in theory, encourages healthy interaction and the formation of bonds between individuals with similar interests and personalities, through predatory handling, DFS has become a centre of toxic, abusive, and at times even criminal behaviours within the community. These behaviours have failed to be resolved as of the aforementioned date, and continue to go unaddressed or unpunished. Omitting this information poses a risk to the privacy and psychological well-being of underage dependents who may become involved with Decorations for Servers."

Link to full document with 94 pages of severe infractions:

-----------------------

----------------------- "How do I prevent this from happening?"

1- If you have a Discord account, join https://discord.gg/decorations and search your Tumblr user in the searchbar. (if you do not, create one or ask a friend to do this for you) 2 - Finding resources from your profile or not, direct message the server owner, @haruni , and express your disdain for your resources being posted in this community. Demand the deletion of your resources from all channels/demand that your resources are never posted in any channels. 3 - Reblog this/send this to decor/art/gfx/edit/resources accounts

----------------------- Users who had their work reposted in this server in the past month: @nicodefresas @xaxanteria @char-4064-mlynar @yingdu @bucciniexe @punkitx @puppyemotes @sugarbunniez444 @naseratis @racconic @pueriled @fluffettis @aventurinean @pitfall-bakery @tinylambnursery @selysie There are 900+ tumblr mentions in the server. Please make sure to check if your work is safe. It is important to stand up for yourself and claim up for what's yours in right. Every denial of your work being taken advantage of by vile people does not help only you, but all of the creative community on Tumblr. Your voice, knowledge and reach can bring voice to these victims and make sure a community with this much hidden history doesn't thrive. STATING THAT it is not a risk at the moment to send a message to them to ask for your works to be taken down as they are intimidated by the constant reports made directly to them. They will probably listen. While the server is in portuguese, you can just randomly assign yourself rols and type your name or "tumblr" out in the search bar to check, and type out a message in english towards the owner. If you need any support, you can message me through Discord (lucineidesouza) Thank you for your time.

[funnygirlthatbelle]

i suspect that a huge factor in the defense of students using gen ai (and academic dishonesty in general tbh) comes from the fundamental misunderstanding of how school works.

to simplify thousands of educator's theories into the simplest terms, there are two types of stuff you're learning in school: content and skills. content is what we often think of as the material in school- spelling, times tables, names, dates, facts, etc.- whereas skills are usually more subtle. think phonics, mental math, reading comprehension, comparing and contrasting; though students do those things often, the how usually isn't deemed as important as the what.

this leads to a disconnect that's most obvious when students ask the infamous "when will we use this in the real world?" they have- often correctly- identified content that the content is niche, outdated, or not optimized but haven't considered the skills that this class/lesson/assignment will teach.

i can think of two shining examples from when i was a kid. one was in middle school when they announced that we were now gonna be studying latin, and we all wondered why on earth they would choose latin as our foreign language. every adult promised us it'd be helpful if we went into medicine, law, or religion (ignoring that most of us didn't want to go into medicine, law, or religion), but we didn't buy that and never took it seriously. the truth was that our new principal knew that learning languages gets harder as you get older, and so building the skills of learning a language while it was easy for us was more important than which language we learned, and that's an answer twelve year old me would've actually respected.

similarly, my geometry class all hated proofs. we couldn't think of a single situation where you'd have to convince someone a triangle was a triangle and "look at it, of course it's a triangle" wouldn't be an acceptable answer. it was actually the band director who pointed out that it wasn't literally about triangles; it was about being able to prove or disprove something, anything using facts.

and so, so, so many assignments that are annoying as hell in school make more sense when you think about the skills as well as the content. "why do i have to present information about something the teacher obviously already knows about?" because research, verifying sources, summarizing, and public speaking are all really important skills. "why does this have to be a group project?" because you will have to work with other people in your life, and learning how to be a team player (and deal with people who aren't) is an essential skill. "why do we have to read these scientific articles and learn about graphs?" because if you can understand them, people can't lie to you about them.

now, of course, there's a lot we could do better- especially we as in the american school system. the reason i have an education minor but am not teaching is because of those issues. there are plenty of assignments that are busywork and teachers that are assholes and ways that the system is failing us.

but that doesn't mean you should cut off your nose to spite your face!

the ability to learn and grow and think critically is one of our most powerful tools as people. our brains are capable of incredible things! however, the same way you can't lift a car unless you consistently lift and build up to that, your brain needs to train in order to do its best.

so yeah, maybe chatgpt can write a five paragraph essay for you on the differences between thomas jefferson and alexander hamilton's governing philosophies. and maybe it won't even fuck it up! congratulations, you got away with it. but by outright refusing to use your brain and practice these skills, who have you helped? you haven't learned anything. worse, you haven't even learned how to learn.

[fictionaltrvlr]

AITA for trying to save my friends’ life?

I know the title might make this seem obvious, but apparently everyone is mad at me.

I (30M) have these two coworkers who have become friends, let’s call them L (26M) and J (26F). Anonymous post since I work for the government.

Anyway, I’ve worked with J and L for roughly six months. They’re pretty nerdy and awkward, so I thought I’d be nice and try to be friendly with them. I don’t understand most of what they say and they’re honestly really annoying, so this was a very charitable gesture on my part. Since they’re highly intelligent, the relationship does have certain benefits in the field.

On to the issue at hand. As I mentioned, I work for the government. So my SO (supervising officer) informed me of a covert operation that was of immediate importance and I was assigned to go undercover with J and L since their branch was under investigation.

At the end of the assignment we’re meant to cut ties completely, which I was prepared for. However, as it progressed it became evident that my SO expected me to terminate these agents. I’m trying to be vague as this is all highly sensitive, you understand.

But I’d become rather attached to J and L, they really are like awkward little lizards you keep around to add ambience, and I thought they could be valuable in the future. The idea of killing them was not appealing.

So, I made a very, in my opinion, logical choice to do what I could to save their lives. Instead of shooting them in the head as I was expected to do, I jettisoned them out of an airlock in a containment pod over the ocean.

I know that might sound bad, but as I mentioned they are incredibly intelligent and could plausibly find a way to escape (which, to be clear, they DID). I think this was an admirably ingenious decision, since I’d be clear with my SO as no regular person could have survived this, but also clear by J and L since I gave them a chance.

But now my SO is angry with me and insisting that I should have personally finished the job, plus I’ve heard through my contacts that J and L are “furious” with me and feel “betrayed?” Which seems very clearly irrational to me since I saved their lives.

So, AITA for saving my friends’ life and completing my assignment?

Edit: Yes, I suppose this could be construed as “attempted murder,” but the whole thing is that they SURVIVED as I knew they would.

Edit: Okay guys, stop attacking me. If you lack reading comprehension, just say that. I SAVED THEIR LIVES because they definitely would have died if I hadn’t done what I did. And I don’t know where some of you got this idea that I’m in Hydra, because I’m not. But even if I was, that doesn’t make me a Nazi. I swear, you’re all so dramatic. Like watch the news?? SHIELD were the terrorists, and Hydra was only briefly associated with Nazis in the 1940s. But this is all besides the point! I kept this anonymous for a reason. You know doxxing is a crime right?? Which I know because I’m a government agent, okay?? Do you understand the concept of a low profile? Obviously i can’t tell you what branch of government I’m in, but I’m not Hydra. Calm down.

Edit: Also! I was literally abused as a child, okay? So maybe I’m not great at forming friendships, but it’s not my fault. My brother gave me some profound trust issues and this is NOT helping. And I have, like, PTSD from all the incredibly confidential cases I’ve been involved in. You know you’re basically attacking a veteran, right? You should be thanking me for everything I’ve done for this country. It’s actually really ableist. And this is not a platform for all your Hydra conspiracy theories okay? You’re completely derailing my original post with irrelevant speculation.

Edit: You can stop now! I get it. You think I’m the asshole. Whatever. And I am not “crashing out,” okay? As if I care about the opinions of a bunch of teenagers on Reddit. And that’s what it is: and opinion!! That doesn’t make you right. I’m deleting this.

[milunalupin]

hi!! I would like to request older!reader and older!sirius black where reader ends up saving him from bellatrix’s curse.

ty for requesting !! enjoyyy <3 + ty to my lovie for helping :)

— another one bites the dust (but it's definitely not sirius)

post azkaban!sirius x reader ★ 1.5k words

Lily Evans was your best friend. The two of you had been sorted into Gryffindor as muggleborn witches together and assigned the same dorm. The two of you did everything together, from studying in the library to braiding each others hair down by the Black Lake. Of course being that close meant you had to witness all of James Potter's attempts at winning your best friend over. One time you happened to alone on your way to class when James and the other 'Marauders' had stopped you, begging you for any tips on how to successfully ask Lily out.

"You've gotta let this go. She's way out of your league, you toerag." You had rolled your eyes at him, the boy gaping at your remark as you had always seemed pretty docile. Sirius Black — who you now notice was standing beside the bespectacled boy — barked out a laugh and applauded you, causing a warm feeling in your chest that you would never admit was because of him. Moreover, if James ever asked him to, Sirius wouldn't mind hanging out with you to get information on Lily (and not because he thought you were super cute).

Once James had successfully convinced Lily to date him, you and her had blended in well with the Marauders. When Lily and James would have their couple time, you would play chess with Peter and study with Remus in the common room. Sirius even let you join in on planning and performing their famous pranks (which did not jumpstart a crush on him or anything). The six of you had become your own little family, and when James had proposed to Lily after graduation it was no surprise who the groomsmen and maid of honor would be.

Meanwhile you had also fallen in love with Sirius Black during your time at Hogwarts, and the two of you had become attached at the hip. Sirius would walk with you to class, and you'd spend nights in the astronomy tower talking about the future.

You were each other's safe space, and Sirius loved you so deeply, which led to a lot of heartbreak the the night Lily and James were killed and your boyfriend was sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life for being the one who did it. You spent the next twelve years working under the Department of Magical Law enforcement as an investigator, trying to convince the Ministry that Sirius would never in a million years do anything to hurt his friend, much less kill him and his wife. They ignored you, dismissing your claims as a fit of hysteria, weaponizing your grief against you. You had been nonstop trying to figure out what exactly happened that night, regularly exchanging letters with Remus until he sent his final one, asking you to refrain from sending any more, as he felt too betrayed by Sirius to hear any of your theories.

The moment Peter had been revealed as the true murderer, Remus had come by your flat to apologize in person, the two of you reconciling over tea and teary hugs. When Sirius finally came back things were slow to return to "normal", but the two of you were just as in love with each other as you were back at Hogwarts. Because of his current situation with the Ministry, you moved in with him at 12 Grimmauld Place, then agreeing immediately when Dumbledore had come to the two of you about reassembling the Order of the Phoenix.

"You're a cheater Sirius Black, I don't want to play anymore." You huffed, standing up and throwing the playing cards down on the coffee table. The two of you were playing cards on the couch in Grimmauld place, trying to have a relaxing night amidst the recent chaos. Sirius cooed and pulled you down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing sweet kisses to your shoulder. "Oh you'll survive, Mrs. Black."

The name alone caused you to melt into him, but the way he was looking at you in that moment made you feel like a teenager again, shy and in love with the boy before you. "Mrs. Black? We're not even engaged, love."

He grabbed your left hand, his thumb running over your ring finger, his voice becoming as soft as his touch. "It's coming, darling, don't you worry."

Your future mother-in-law screeched in horror from her place on the wall. "The most ancient and noble House of Black will not be accepting of a revolting mudblood! Must keep the blood pure, toujous pur!"

"I like to think I've been patient enough." you teased, gesturing to where his mother's portrait hung, the crazy bitch still muttering nonsense to herself.

Sirius sighed and lightly squeezed your hip. "I know m'love, you've been too good to me. Once things blow over a bit, I promise we'll get back to how things used to be, yeah?"

You hummed, brushing the hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. "No need to rush, we've got the rest of our lives, Sirius."

The fireplace suddenly lights up green as Severus comes through, his lip curling on one side as he saw the position you two were in and moved his gaze to somewhere else in the room.

"Severus," Sirius clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side. "to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"The Dark Lord," his eyes met yours, then shifted to settle on Sirius. "seems to have put an idea in Mr. Potter's head that you were being tortured at the Ministry. He's on his way there to look for you, you are to alert the Order."

You and Sirius stood immediately, thanking Severus as he disappeared again and sending your patronus' to the other Order members. They arrive quickly and the six of you head to the Ministry and apparate down to the lower level chambers, wands at the ready.

Kingsley and Alastor moved towards one group of Death Eaters, with Remus and Tonks on the defense. "Harry, where's Harry?" you were frantic looking for your godson, Sirius right beside you. You find him in combat with Dolohov, rushing to his side just as he hit the dark wizard with a Full Body Bind curse.

"Nice one, Haz!" Sirius praised from a few feet away. Harry beamed at you and you smiled and squeezed his shoulder quickly before heading back over to Sirius.

The chamber was complete chaos, the dark walls lighting up with flashes of all colors, all kinds of hexes and jinxes were being thrown around. You had to admit, Harry and the other students were great at duelling and really kept up with the Order members. Out of the corner of your eye you see your beloved's deranged cousin, her wand locked onto Sirius. Her wand glowed green as she shouted out an unforgivable spell.

You turn around to see him just a few feet from the Veil. "Sirius!" you gasp, immediately casting 'Accio' to pull him out of Bellatrix's way, his hands gripping your waist to steady himself, eyes blown out in shock. You both are staring at each other, eyes watery and chests heaving.

"Too fucking good to me, darling."

Your moment was interrupted by a screeching Bellatrix, sending a 'Confringo' your way. You managed to dodge it but the spell caught the sleeve of Sirius' coat.

"Don't you fucking dare!" you growled, shooting multiple stunning spells at her which she annoyingly kept deflecting. She laughed maniacally as you circled each other, casting spells left and right. The dark witch then shot another spell at Sirius, effectively hitting him in the back then grinning madly at you, "Whoopsie!"

Your heartbeat picked up as you realized where she was standing. You quickly scanned the chamber and it seemed that most of the Death Eaters had fled or been taken down. You'd never killed anyone before, but she was one of Voldemort's strongest followers. Not only that, but she tried to attack your Sirius not just once, not twice, but three times. Your eyes widened as you saw her prepare another curse on him.

"Not my boyfriend, you bitch!"

You cast 'Depulso', throwing her back a few feet into the Veil, immediately sending her into the world of the dead. You stood there frozen, your wand still pointed where Bellatrix once stood. Sirius pulled you back into his arms, whispering "thank you"s and "i love you"s into your ear.

Harry had appeared next as the battle ended, joining in your group hug, the three of you holding each other tight. You kissed the top of your godson's head, no longer unable to hold back your tears.

Harry had come home with you and Sirius that night, having some dinner and then going upstairs to stay in one of the spare rooms. Sirius held you close in bed that night, thanking you once again for saving him. You smiled and squeezed his hand, thanking him for coming back to you all those years ago. You fell asleep that night unaware of the sparkling diamond that was hidden in Sirius' nightstand.

[msschemmenti]

fun police

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

summary: reader is hired by hr to monitor morale and implement more self-care moments for agents. the unit she struggles most with is obviously the BAU

a/n: i often forget criminal minds is not a workplace comedy with a sprinkle of killers because i write stuff like this. at my core, i just wanna giggle. sue me ig :) [this is giving more prologue than anything— if y’all are into this idea i’ll post more of this]

emily groaned into the air of her empty office as yet another email rolled across her screen from hr. in theory, the new self-care initiative was definitely a good idea, but she knew her team. and she knew herself. with all the sicarios serial killers still lingering in their minds— a mindful monday break was not priority. they’d skirted around all the previous mandated attempts to unwind due to cases popping up and splitting the team up, but she knew they could only keep that up for so long.

she clicked into the email, the URGENT subject line keeping her from ignoring it. she skimmed the greeting and first paragraph of reprimands for the lack of participation. she got to the next paragraph and instantly paused in dread.

“starting monday morning, the behavioral analysis unit will be assigned a health and wellness agent who will join your team in the field to ensure that you and your team are balancing your work and health appropriately.”

a glorified babysitter? oh the team was going to hate this. it took a certain type of person to weather the storms they did and those types of people did not have healthy coping mechanisms. emily rolled her desk chair back enough to pull out the bottle of wine she hid in a drawer and the glass that accompanied it. if the fun police was coming to town she might as well enjoy this luxury before they arrived.

emily was the first in as always. all that first to arrive, last to leave stuff. but as she walked up the few stairs to her office, she quickly realized she may not have been first after all.

“uh hi? can i help you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway of her office. the woman sat across from her desk turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cheerily. far too cheery for the time of day.

“section chief prentiss, good morning! just the woman i’m here for.” the mystery woman smiled and moved over to extend her hand toward emily. “y/n y/ln, wellness consultant. i believe someone emailed you about my arrival?”

emily’s eyes traveled up the woman’s frame curiously. she was dressed smartly, on the business side of business casual and she looked far too young to be doing the work she was doing. remembering the welcoming part of the email she’d read last week, she plastered on her most practiced diplomatic smile and shook her hand. “nice to meet you miss y/ln. i wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. please have a seat.”

emily rounded her desk and slid into her desk chair. she watched y/n do the same and subconsciously wondered how someone could look that good this early in the morning. she’d barely had her first cup of coffee and she felt like she was barely functioning. but here this wellness expert was, dressed to the nines and in the office before her.

y/n cleared her throat and slid a folder over to emily with a sheepish smile. “i figured we could touch base a bit on the team and my plans for the time being. and i thought that’d be easier with goals and objectives breakdown.”

goals and objectives breakdown? emily looked from the folder to the y/n and back in a bit of shock. she hadn’t exactly expected there to be folders of information or goals and objectives. she thought they do some meditation and call it a day… but as she opened the folder and saw the detailed breakdowns and plans she realized she was sorely mistaken.

“oh wow, forgive me for my ignorance. but i assumed this would be a sort of once a month morale boosting bonding sort of thing and you’d just sign off on whatever we decide to do.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s words, only smiled with a chuckle. “well that would’ve been the case a few months ago but based on your teams workload and concerns from outside of this office— the director is looking for something a bit more direct and focused.”

“direct and focused?” emily repeated.

“mmhm, you can see it all outlined there but simply put im here to help every member of your team identify healthy coping mechanisms to combat the work you’re doing. that’ll look different for every member but it’ll be personal. some teams have preferred check in meetings and others like to keep journals. each member can choose how they’d like to work with me.”

emily sighed as she read through the folder and listened to y/n, it was all sounding unnecessary at she was already trying to think of a way to get the team on board. getting rossi to participate was going to kill her. “as you can imagine, i’m not sure how receptive the team will be to these forced wellness sessions…”

“i anticipated that. and i’ve found most teams are far more receptive when their fearless leader is a willing participant. you know leading by example.” y/n spoke suggestively lifting her eyebrow in challenge.

“oh you mean me? you want me to participate in your little exercises so the others will be more willing?” emily asked in disbelief.

“well yes, as much as i believe that you’ve got your own mental health exercises in place— you could humor me with a few sessions.” y/n grinned.

emily eyed her suspiciously, “and if we refuse?”

“well i hope it doesn’t come to that, but after i’ve made my base analysis of the team i’ll have the digression to determine who is and is not fit for field work. and i have a feeling that wouldn’t go over to well.”

“yeah that’s a sure fire way to make some enemies around here.” emily grimaced with a huff.

“thought so.” y/n shrugged but pulled out a black planner and pen and looked at emily expectantly. “so chief, when do you wanna start? promise i’ll make it worth your while.”

[charmercharm3r]

Masterlist

prev: four, next: six

☆ﾟ

It was a good idea in theory. In reality, it was a shit show. Literally. Trips to Jeju are always fun, even if you’re supposed to be filming. However this time around you were informed that the group would be filming a parody of a popular dating show. Whose genius idea was that?

It would’ve been perfectly fine if your members were normal. To your pleasure or misfortune— it’s still unclear— they’re far from it.

There were no hitches the entire trip, traveling and the initial filming was as planned. You were assigned the role of a host while the boys were to be “dating” amongst one another. They followed direction as best as you could ask for with their limited attention spans, jumping from conversation to conversation and even getting in some teasing as the cameras continued to roll. You could already tell a lot of film was going to get cut seeing as they tended to get sidetracked into talking about incredibly personal details.

The “first dates” were going as you expected, you were instructed to go around and give them interviews to provoke more conversations when they started to fall quiet. Seungmin was indifferent the entire time while Felix tried to keep it as lively as possible, no doubt the former doing it on purpose. Jeongin and Jisung didn’t really even need you there as they practically forgot you even were— in their own little world. You got lost in the orchard when looking for Hyunjin and Minho, breaking the fourth wall a few times to ask the crew member on where to go, eventually giving up and wandering on your own for a little too long. Only to find Chan and Changbin sitting and have what looked like a normal conversation— they didn’t need much help either.

The looks of surprise and betrayal was fun to witness as they regrouped to pick who was riding with who to go to dinner. You got to pick whose car you rode in once they finished, and decided on Minho and Felix’s car.

Minho drives fast, which is even more fun when he takes off the child locks in the backseat and rolls down the window for you. You and Felix stick your heads out the window as he surpasses the other three cars, the both of you hollering at them with joy and barely catching a faint smile on Minho’s lips when you sit back again.

Everyone, including you, forgets that you’re supposed to be filming during dinner and goes silent as you eat. Until Hyunjin speaks from across the table, “Y/N’ie, I thought you were supposed to interview us earlier. Did you think we were so hopeless as a couple that you decided not to?”

His question threw you off, totally unexpected as your mouth was full. Half chewed and half hearted, “I got lost.”

“What did you say?” Jisung called at the other end.

“You got lost?” Chan chuckled at your right, the confession sending him and Hyunjin into a fit of giggles. The information eventually made it to the other side of the table and the rest of them erupted into giggles as well.

“It wasn’t my fault! Why were you two so far away?” You turned the attention onto Minho and Hyunjin, who shared an amused look.

When both of them simply shrugged, Changbin stepped in, “that’s okay. I would’ve stayed up all night looking for you if you got lost.” He beat his palm onto his chest and jutted his chin out with a nodding smirk.

“That’s nice, but you’re supposed to be interested in each other. It wouldn’t be a good look for the show—“ you gestured to the surrounding cameras— “if you showed more interest in the host than in the contestants.”

“But the host is always the most attractive one!” He exclaimed, throwing his spoon down. Your eyes widened in confusion of where this sudden infatuation came from.

You looked at your manager standing by one of the center cameras, he was laughing just as hard as the members, “I don’t remember this being part of the script.”

“It’s not a script!” Changbin’s chair scraped against the floor as he abruptly stood. “These are my true feelings! Do my feelings look like a joke to you?!”

None of the others were going to help you now, they all avoided eye contact and kept their mouths shut as you sought out a scapegoat for Changbin’s bombardment of affection. “If I say no, will you sit down?”

“No!”

Then it hit you, play along.

Your chair almost toppled back when you took to your feet, Chan stuck his hands out to catch you just in case. “Then yes!”

Jeongin let out a small, “what is happening?”

“You’re a joke!” You replied back to Changbin with feigned anger. “You broke my heart! Then you come on my show to rub it in my face!”

Everyone at the table was suddenly invested in where this was going. You glanced over at your manager and he waved his hands as though throwing up a white flag. Green light.

“Do you want to humiliate me? Is my pain funny to you, Seo Changbin?”

“I didn’t want our relationship to end but you pushed me to it! You forced my hand!” He shouted at you for two seats down.

“Everyone,” you dramatically looked the other members directly in the eye, “he cheated on me.”

Gasps erupted throughout the restaurant, including the staff playing into the story. They spoke over each other, everyone trying to get their words in as Changbin’s mouth dropped to the floor in shock. You forced yourself to repress a smile seeing the disbelief on his face, his reaction much funnier when he broke the fourth wall to look at your manager as well.

How could you’s and shame on you’s echoed throughout the restaurant, Hyunjin’s words particularly catching your ear.

“Cheating is unforgivable, how disrespectful. I could never be friends with anyone who cheats on their significant other,” his serious tone drawing in the rest of the table above all the jokes spewing about, all eyes on him now.

“Care to explain more, Hyunjinnie?” You and Changbin sat back down and gave him the floor to speak.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “I can’t stand it. Just break up with them. If you truly cared about someone, you’d never, never treat them with that level of disrespect, even if you’re on bad terms.”

He was clearly upset now, arms crossed across his chest and looking down at his bowl. No one really knew what to say as his emotions were much more intense than the previous vibes of the dinner. As the host and since it was your fault the topic was brought up, you comforted him, “I agree with you—“

But Jisung adds fuel to the fire before you could continue, “I have something to confess.” Everyone turns to him. “I saw who Changbin cheated with. I caught them together.”

More gasps, fists slamming on the table, angry exclamations demanding to know more. “It was…” he paused and looked around the table, then stuck his finger in the direction across from you, “Hyunjinnie!”

Faking a faint, you fell back into Chan with a hand over your forehead. The oldest wrapped his arms around your neck and shielded you from the subject of the incoming yelling match. There wasn’t much you could really understand as everyone spoke over one another for the billionth time that night. When he released you, you faked wiping tears as Hyunjin went mute with his mouth agape.

“Any last words before we,” a fake sniffle, “move on?”

“I DIDN’T KNOW! I PROMISE!” He came over to your side of the table and fell dramatically to his knees, taking your hand and placing your palm onto his cheek.

“What are you doing, get up.” You tried to take your hand back but he only held on tighter.

“Say you forgive me.”

“You need to be on a drama with how dramatic you are,” you joke, trying to divert your attention from how tightly he held your hand made your tummy warm.

“I won’t let you go until you say it!” His eyes were beaming up at you with sparkles so bright, even the stage lighting wasn’t nearly as blinding. Part of you felt like he was apologizing for something he truly did to wrong you, you almost fell for it.

“Fine, fine! Forgiven. Get up and finish your food.” Hyunjin quickly kissed the inside of your palm, unsure if the cameras actually caught it, and went back to his seat.

Conversation shifting to something you weren’t paying attention to, lo and behold, your mind wasn’t nearly as focused as it should be. There was more screaming and yelling, mostly Changbin and Jisung, and you couldn’t even laugh with them because you were internally battling with yourself about his fucking eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes and how sincere they were, how soft and patient and agonized they seemed to be about a situation that was purely for show. It caught you so far off guard that when the members continued with the skit, you let them take the reins to do whatever they wanted.

By the time it was time to choose cars to head home, you were just going with the flow, not caring about the show anymore. What you needed was an ice cold bath. A freezing shower to get rid of the heat in your cheeks whenever Hyunjin’s gaze would linger on you for half a second longer.

That was exactly what you did as soon as the cameras were off and you were back at your hotel room. You rushed off to be alone and get rid of all the stupid thoughts that made your head dizzy because what the fuck?

It wasn’t like you were touch deprived, your members were practically an extension of your physical self. It was just the way he looked at you. Why were you so upset over a look? He looks at you every day, nothing new. You were looking back at him. Straight into his eyes. He was on his knees. Your hand was on his cheek. He was nuzzling his face into your skin. You almost leaned in. His lips looked so kissable. He did kiss you— your hand, at least.

Oh, it’s fucking over for you.

Knock, knock, knock.

The consistent rapping on your hotel door shocked you enough to pull you from the butterfly inducing realization. Just a robe on and hair still dripping, you rushed to check the peep hole to find the one person you didn’t want to see standing outside.

“Why’re you here?” You said a little colder than intended.

Hyunjin scoffed and held up the bag of chips and soda, “what a rude way to greet someone bearing gifts.” He pushed past you and threw the snacks on the bed along with himself. “Go get dressed, they have Netflix on the TV.”

You didn’t even have the will to say no, doing what he asked and changing into comfy clothes. Big sweats and a baggy hoodie seemed decent enough, and so did standing at the foot of the bed while he was sprawled out, clicking through the different movies. “What are you doing here?” You finally asked.

“Hanging out?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” He had a point. “You were also really quiet at dinner.” Frowning a little, you sat at the foot of the bed and took the bag of chips. Admittedly, they hit the spot, he knew they would and smiled to himself when you visibly relaxed.

“That one,” you spoke again as he hovered over the movie you’d been telling yourself you’d watch when you had the time. Well, now you had nothing but time.

Cross legged and still on the edge of the bed, munching away while fully invested in this terrible movie, Hyunjin admired the way you’d copy the actress’s slight body movements when she was around the love interest, as if you were taking notes. Tilting your head, sitting up a little straighter, leaning your head on your palm, or tucking your hair behind your ear. It was utterly adorable and he loved being able to see you like this. Somehow, you forgot he was even there until the bed shifted behind you.

Suddenly there was heat, too much of it. You were suffocating with the obvious fact that you were not alone and haven’t been for the past hour. Hyunjin’s arm was bumping against the back of yours, seemingly innocent.

“Are you gonna share?” He said, chin brushing your shoulder as he gestured at the mostly empty bag of chips. You didn’t say anything, only holding it in his direction. His hand encased yours to bring it even closer to him, making your fingers almost shake with anxiety. It was nothing. Literally nothing. But it felt like everything.

“Open,” he commanded for the second time tonight. When did he get so close to you? You could practically smell his shampoo and body lotion. Dumbly, you faced him slightly and opened your mouth enough for him to slip a chip into it. Then unexpectedly, his fingers tipped the bottom of your chin up to close. “Chew before you swallow.” Your eyes followed his hand as it retreated, leading up to his own gaze that was already staring back.

The sound of your swallowing was comically loud, you wished the ground would open up and eat you whole. “I don’t want to kiss you,” you rushed to say.

Hyunjin smirked, amused. “I don’t want to kiss you, either.” His actions contradicted his words as his face unnoticeably inched forward. Warmth was swirling around you now, his shampoo, his lotion, his skin, his clean clothes, his left over toothpaste— “your breath smells like chips.”

There it was. Butterflies gone. You shoved him and his stupidly smug smirk harshly back by his chest and he thumped back into the bed. Immediately, you ran into the bathroom to rinse your mouth with mouthwash before coming back and attacking him. You were slamming the soft pillow into his body without so much as a complaint. More so, he was laughing, not even a wince because it didn’t phase him at all. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t get it.

Moving into a stronger position, you went from standing at his side to trying to hop over him onto the available bed space, failing miserably and flopping onto him instead. Chest to chest, practically straddling him, Hyunjin gripped your waist to keep you from falling off the edge. That also meant there was no where to run. “Now I really don’t want to kiss you.”

“But I really want you to.” His hands keeping you in place, the proximity, minty fresh breath— from you, at least. Your hand drifted to his face, ghosting fingertips up along his cheek to push his hair from his face. Another thing for the second time that night, he leaned into the touch, enjoying it much more than he should.

This felt like the right moment, right? This was how that girl did it in the movie. She did all those steps, the lean in, touch the cheek, brush the hair, what came next?

It was the actual kiss, the one part you couldn’t get yourself to initiate. It’s been too much teasing him, perhaps if you only just gave in a little— a slight graze of your lips against his, that’d be the ultimate power move. Payback for the emotions he made you feel earlier this evening. Just close enough to make his eyes flutter closed, make his breath hitch, make him pucker and wait for you to close the distance and feel one another for the first time.

That’s exactly what you did, and fuck, was it hard not to cave. His soft breath and pillowy lips, you almost did.

Knock, knock, knock. “Y/N’ie, can I use your hair drier? The outlet in my bathroom doesn’t work.”

Saved by the fucking bell. Hyunjin audibly groaned, annoyed that his perfect moment was once again stolen from him.

You quickly pushed off of his body by his chest and rushed to open the door, stroking your hair flat and revealing Jisung on the other side. He immediately went into your bathroom, not noticing Hyunjin on the bed lobbing his head back with frustration.

“Han Jisung, you’re the worst. I was so close! Couldn’t you have waited two more minutes?!”

Jisung, frightened by the unknown voice, peaked around the doorframe and saw the other boy. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“No—“

“Yes!” You shook your head with emphasis, holding up your hands like waving a white flag.

Everything else happened so fast. One second you were standing next to Jisung and the next, Hyunjin was rushing over to the both of you saying something along the lines of, “give me my kiss!” You had pulled Jisung in front of you without really thinking about it and put him into Hyunjin’s line of fire. The two smashes foreheads at the fast pace the older moved, both crumbling to the floor in pain.

With the way the night started, this was a solid way to end it— watching your two friends rolling around the floor in pain as you laughed your ass off at their idiotic tendencies. Then them proving said idiotic tendencies as one tried to— hopefully playfully— strangle the other, in which you don’t know who started all the rough housing, you’re just there to patch them up when they’re done.

☆ﾟ

A/N: don’t ask me where i’ve been idek LMAO. this is so bad im really trying to start writing again pls bear with me

[musedeluce]

Emergency Procedure: Medic + Hunter

Zayne x Reader -Protecting the medical personnel is priority number one in a combat zone, and you are very good at your job.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Injuries, Triage, Medical emergencies, Combat, Hospitalization

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The various sounds of human pain echoed throughout the area. It had one been a pristine, modern park and city center, but debris now littered the ground, rumble and shattered glass strewn around, bodies of the wounded and dead scattered. The response had been quick, the Unicorns squad deployed to neutralized the wanderer attack and medical teams embarking soon after, waiting to enter the area until given the all clear.

Every hunter squad had an assigned area, as did each team of medics. For medics, it generally was the same area the hospital they worked at served. For hunters, it was based on which station throughout the city you were assigned. Then, each hunter was further assigned a specific person or persons on the medical squad to protect. Because Akso Hospital and the Hunter’s Association Headquarters were in the same area of Linkon, Unicorns and Akso’s triage team were assigned together and partnered up. Partnered hunters were usually assigned medics who were also partnered up. Thus, hunter partners could still work together and medical personal wouldn’t work alone even if their Hunter couldn’t work. When the medical teams were cleared to enter, procedure dictated that any capable hunters accompanied their assigned medic to protect and help them, due to the unpredictable nature of metaflux and any lingering danger. Hunters who were able were also expected to cover for hunters who could not. To Zayne’s deep relief, and honestly, some happiness, you were his assigned protector in these situations. Your partner, Xavier, had been assigned to Dr. Greyson.

Quickly, Zanye moved from casualty to casualty, assessing their condition and, essentially deciding between life and death for some. Triage is, perhaps, the most difficult situation any medical professional might have to go through. You must assess the patient’s condition, determine if they can actually be saved, and move on if they cannot. If they can be saved, those with the worst injuries are treated and evacuated first. The goal, of course, is to save as many people as possible with the limited resources available.

“Zayne, there’s a person over there.” You gesture towards a pile of rubble that had once been a building. “There’s small meta – fluctuations, but that’s normal for the aftermath of a protofield event like this. It should be safe, but be careful.” Zayne patiently waited for your assessment, thinking to himself just how useful the energy detection part of your evol was. A small, keening cry sounded from the direction you indicated and the both of you started off, moving quickly and efficiently. The source of the cry was easy to identify. A teenage boy lay trapped under the rubble, buried halfway with blood pooling under his body. Scanning the debris, you relayed information to Zayne. “We could pull him out, in theory because he’s not impaled or stuck on anything according to the scan. But the rubble isn’t stable and his vitals are erratic...” Carefully, Zayne positions himself to pull the boy out, and while he did so, you positioned yourself in a way that if the rubble toppled, you could drag Zayne out of the way, as well as help him with the patient.

“On three.” Zayne put his hand on the ground, an ice crystal materializing under the slab pinning the boy in place, growing towards it to push it off him.. “One.” You both braced yourselves. “Two.” You both began to focus especially on your breathing. “Three!” Applying all your strength, you were able to lift the slab just enough for Zayne to pull the boy out from under the pile of rubble. Unfortunately, the slab falling back into place dislodged large pieces of rubble from the top of the pile, crashing down and dislodging other pieces of rubble. Adrenaline pumping, driven by pure instinct, you dragged Zayne and the boy out of the way. An intense, crushing pain bloomed through your leg as pieces of debris pinned you to the ground instead.

The cry of pain you let out sent panic searing through Zayne’s blood. Actual anguish gnawed at him, swirling with a pang of guilt. Logically, he knew this wasn’t anyone’s fault. Logically, he knew you had been doing your job, and he had been doing his. Oh, but he longed for you to be safe and sound. He finished treating the boy, and called for backup before making his way to you, the very definition of grace under pressure.

“Hello, Doctor.” you smile as he kneels by your side, playful in an effort to diffuse the tension. After a brief pause as he examines you, you ask the main question on your mind at the moment. “How’s the boy? Will he survive?” Luckily, you had managed to get clear of the main debris pile before your leg got pinned under one piece of rubble. Using his evol, ice protected your leg from further damage and held it in place as more ice shifted the debris. “Zayne?”

“He’s alive. I’ve given him the best treatment possible and have called for assistance to pick him, and you, up.”

“And you?”Zayne’s ability to deal with a crisis was something comforting, and you felt happy to be his partner, but he had been at risk too.

“My condition is acceptable for the circumstances. I’m physically fine and able to continue my work.” Zayne pauses, and looks you in the eye again, a subtle smile gracing his face. “Thanks to your quick thinking.” A bright, genuine smile lights up your face.

“I’ll always do my best to keep you safe, Zayne.”

“Your leg won’t be permanently injured, and your protocore syndrome isn’t showing any abnormal symptoms” He finishes bandaging your leg, having set it in an emergency splint. “Our backup should be here soon. I’m going to go check on my other patient, but I’ll return to you.” As he speaks, he slips a small piece of candy into your hand. Right then, your backup arrived and you were evacuated, along with the injured teenager, to Akso Hospital. It wasn’t until most of the chaos died down that you and Zayne crossed paths again.

A soft knock at your hospital room door alerts you to someone’s, you assume Zayne’s, arrival. “Come in.” Gratified to see you were correct, a small smile spreads across your face as Zayne walks in. Despite being on his feet, doing triage and emergency surgeries, he looks almost the same as always. But exhaustion dogs his every step, his eyes narrow as tiredness bears down upon him. “Sit down.” Zayne doesn’t argue, instead sitting in the armchair by your hospital bed, almost melting into it, leaning back and covering his face with the crook of one elbow and resting his other arm on the armrest. You reach out and take his hand, and neither of you move for a while.

“How do you feel?” Zayne is the first to speak.

“Tired, but my injury feels better than before. As for my heart, I’ve been taking my meds diligently and haven’t felt anything since you checked at the site.” Dutifully you report to him, knowing that this information is what would reassure him the most.

“What I wouldn’t give for you to be healthy and safe...” Zayne murmurs, almost to himself. His hand tightens around yours. “Life is better with you here… Please… do your best to stay.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/N: Hopefully I'll improve as I continue to write for these characters. Originally this was going to be all 4 of them together but the length would have been a lot I think, for a single post lol. Still also getting a handle on tagging and stuff, so please let me know if there's anything I can improve.

[lemotmo]

Oh this interesting

Q. Do you have any idea why Deadline would have deleted only that line but not address the removal in any way?

A. I have a ton of asks about the Deadline writeup so I am going to answer as much as I can here to hopefully cover as many of the asks as I can. For context, and much to the disappointment of a certain group of people, Deadline is not equal to TVGuide, TVLine or Entertainment Weekly. They don't write opinion pieces. They don't have writers on staff who are assigned to watch a show and cover that show. That's not what they do. They are basically the AP News of Entertainment news, if that makes sense. They don't have a particular slant or side they gear their coverage towards. In other words they don't have Buddies or other fandom people on staff. Sorry to the 'mob' (for what it's worth though less than 200 people is not a mob) who wrote angry, threatening emails demanding its correction. Not a soul at Deadline read a single word of those emails, just like no one at ABC is reading those emails, but I digress. They report entertainment news. That's it. Trade news that is relevant information.

Also for what it's worth the information they were given would not have come from the show or even Tim, it would have come directly from an approved media release directly from ABC. The media relations department would have sent them a release directly and the release would contain the information they were okay with being reported regarding the show's renewal. Most of the time those memos would say something along the lines of 'approved for immediate release' meaning the journalist was free to write about everything the release covered. Occasionally those same releases will have a second section that will say something along the lines of 'hold for release until (fill in the blank date)'. That indicates the information in that section of the memo is not approved for release at that time but needs to be held for a write-up planned for a later date. So in this case either the memo ABC sent Deadline was missing the 'hold for release' direction, or the journalist missed the request (which is not likely because this is Deadline and that's not something they're likely to overlook). Or quite simply the article dropped sooner than it was supposed to. We will most likely never know which of these is the real reason, I'm personally leaning towards the article dropped earlier than it was supposed to, but it doesn't really matter. The other question I'm getting a lot is why the line would have been removed without Deadline or the journalist adding a 'correction' or 'this article has been amended to correct an error'. Deadline is not going to do that if what they wrote was factually correct but released earlier than it was supposed to be. Releasing the information earlier than it was supposed to be is not the same thing as calling the information incorrect or misleading. The journalist is not required to say he misspoke if he didn't actually misspeak. There is no factual error within the article. The information was just released earlier than ABC wanted. That's why there's no note or correction amendment to the article. It's that simple. No conspiracy theories. No caving to lunatics. ABC just wasn't ready for that particular angle to be confirmed yet. Hope that helps!

Thank you Nonny!

Just leaving this here, because I have gotten a lot of asks about this. Thank you for clearing this up Ali.

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[breakdownsbuttlights]

this might be a bit of a weird question (i'm sorry if so!!) but how do your hf autobots stand politically in relation to the politics of our world? are they technically more leftist, standing against elistism? i know there's the joke about your prowl being A Republican™ but i'm interested to know if his politics (outside of being self-serving) are actually more left or right-- or maybe centrist?

Ooooh, a provocative ask for these fractious times! I’m reminded of the tweet JRO made years ago about the entire crew of the Lost Light voting Labour, except Getaway. (ouch!)

To get to Prowl first, if we are talking partisan politics, it's very tempting to assign Prowl Republican, since he has just enough baked-in conservatism to make the right his default choice. However, I think he'd recoil at the populist, anti-institutional cant of the party's current iteration. He is, at heart, a creature of the establishment, so he sides with whoever will protect the establishment. (Even as he endeavours to shape the establishment to his own design.) And don't even attempt to bring identity politics into this equation; Prowl has found a nice dark place in the back of the closet for the tangled ball of string comprising his sexuality, gender, and faith, and he'd be grateful if everyone else would do the same.

As for the others-- Drift is a grassroots leftist of the first water, though not without his own complications. Namely (a) he's rich, (b) he got rich killing to advance the interests of very powerful people, and (c) he flirts dangerously with the wellness-to-conspiracy-wingnut pipeline, which in a surprise plot twist now skews right.

I once made the mistake of saying that Ratchet is more conservative than Drift, at which point several people accused me of suggesting that Ratchet is A Conservative. He is not. He has simply enjoyed a measure of privilege in life that leaves him less motivated to press for change than, say, Drift is. He votes... strategically left of centre... and then gets heck from Drift about it.

Rodimus's politics are an unfortunate muddle. His rebellious nature suggests someone who leans progressive, but he's ill-informed, sandblasted by propaganda, nostalgic for a past that never existed, and has the regrettable tendency to brandish conspiracy theories as fact. (Drift does not help here.)

Mesothulas believes that the label "non-affiliated mad scientist" exempts him from politics full stop. He learns otherwise the hard way.

[lewismcqueen]

written in red. 04

vampire!lh x black!reader

read from beginning | 03 | 05

summary: you return to Hamilton's mansion to explore further. wc: 2k a/n: it's all coming together baby...not gonna give anything away but we are on the cusp of our first reveal. feel free to leave all theories and guesses in the comments or shoot them in my inbox!

Julia promises that you’ll never have to write another music-related article again, and you assume this means that soon you’ll have a bunch of election-related assignments lined up as an apology for making you write about pop stars and not politics. What it actually means is that you’ve now been assigned a series of op-eds on whatever asinine social media conversation has become relevant enough to get the publication a few extra clicks.

“Close enough, right?” she’d said over coffee, a smile playing on her round face that could almost be mistaken for apologetic. Julie pushes back a dark strand of hair. “You’ll get there eventually. Baby steps.”

You practically slam your laptop closed as soon as you hit your word count for the night, the green journal on your desk becoming more of a reprieve rather than a side project. Your hot pink Hello Kitty bookmark (a previous birthday gift from your editor) sticks out from one of the entries you had planned to finish before you had to take a call. The spine cracks a little as you open it to the same page.

“It’s been a few months now of this little disappearing act. I still find myself wanting to ride around the estate once in a while, even though it’s a terrible idea and I’ll surely be spotted. It’s quiet here, but sometimes I still hear the roar of someone’s car or motorbike in the distance and wish for the noise of the paddock. Charles made fun of me when I told him I still felt young enough to race. But I do!

Another thing I have gotten too used to: the cameras. It’s hard to picture life without a camera in my face, and now I find myself looking for them, even when there’s no chance that anyone would recognize me these days. I have never been afraid of being watched until now, when it should be certain that no one is watching at all. It’s been too long, people’s eyes aren’t as sharp and I’m not on TV all the time anymore. Wearing a hood certainly helps. People still come to the mansion, though. I just saw an advert for a ‘tour’. I don’t get the concept, but it seems to make people happy. They won’t find anything particularly special there, but they still come. Cameras and all. 

Sometimes I imagine myself sneaking onto the grounds in the middle of the night. I’d have a thing of gasoline in one hand, match in the other and just…light the whole thing up. The flames would lap up the front door first, then the first floor and upstairs bedroom. They’d travel up and up until they illuminate the whole sky, like one big bonfire. Maybe I’d even bring s’mores. Wouldn’t that be something? 

-LH”

You close the journal, a grin forming on your lips. The man was funny, you had to give him that. Not a ton of information here, but much is implied. For one, Hamilton lived out the rest of his days hiding in plain sight. How a man so recognizable managed such a feat was uncertain. You’d come across pap photos once where they had managed to catch him even in a hoodie and mask, recognizing him by his hands alone. He must’ve done something drastic to his appearance, in that case.

Second, people used to tour the estate once the man had made it clear that no other part of him would be accessible to the public anymore. That was clearly no longer much of a thing, but the weird stalker motorist and Mr. Posh could have been involved in upkeep in the years after.

Your phone vibrates next to you and interrupts your train of thought. It’s an email from your editor, speak of the devil.

Subject: Only cool people can read this Hey girlie! VIII’s team was deeply appreciative of your beautiful concert review. I know you’re tired of the music stuff, but his album will be releasing soon. His management got in touch with me and told me that the artist wants to personally invite you to the listening party! Highly recommend that you go, just to show your face. Details are attached below. Congrats! Best, Julia M.

You shut off your phone with an exasperated sigh. So much for a free weekend.

-

It’s a bright, sunny morning when you arrive at the mansion. You won’t have time to look around in the evening—you’ll be getting ready to schmooze at a listening party instead of investigating.

The cloudless blue sky seems to create space where there isn’t any, making everything feel like it has opened up. It makes the pointed roofs of the place look more majestic than imposing as you pull into the driveway. The plot of grass in the center is overgrown now, various flowering weeds and tall blades billowing in the wind as you make your way up to the entrance.

It smells just as old and damp inside as it did the first time as you walk past the coffee table where you’d found the journal. The stairs still creek beneath your white trainers, but they don’t seem as loud. Like the house is getting used to you. You climb past the first floor and proceed down a narrow hallway. The wallpaper is a deep green color that must have looked vital when it was new, but is now stained and dull beneath a layer of dust. You notice dark, rectangular indents in it that must have been framed photos or paintings. The floor continues to complain under your feet as you make your way to the end of the hall, where one of the doors to a room seems to have been left ajar.

You peak into the gap once you reach it, and gasp quietly. It’s a study. His study. The wallpaper matches that of the hallway, the room small enough to be cozy but not enough to feel cramped. 

The study toes the line between vague organization and complete chaos. One one side of the desk, manila folders are neatly sorted in a half-open file cabinet. A messy stack of papers is thrown into a crushed cardboard box on the other. You run a hand over the ornate wooden chair positioned in front of the desk, tilted away just slightly. You imagine someone rising abruptly, perhaps to storm out of the room. It strikes you how clean the surface of the wood is. There’s no dust. Has someone been in recently?

The desk itself seems to have been cleared of the usual office debris. There are, however, a couple of scattered greeting cards on the upper right corner. A birthday card, and another card for retirement. Not exactly news. There’s a picture frame on the opposite corner facing the arched window behind the desk, and you round the desk to take a look.

A large group of people stand in front of what looks to be a garage, all clothed in a uniform the same shade as your father’s jacket. Team photo. You’d recognize that Ferrari red anywhere. Your dad would be ecstatic to know that Hamilton had remained on the team right up until the end. 

A ray of light bounces off of two pieces of jewelry sitting next to the photo, and your gaze falls on them next. They’re both rings. One is very classic-looking, a red garnet stone encased in gold. It looks like something a mob boss might wear. The second one looks a bit strange - silver leaves encasing a single white pearl. Very avant-garde, you think. It’s delicate in the way you wouldn’t expect an old sportsman’s jewelry to be. That’s assuming it’s even his. No record of Hamilton ever having gotten married, but you don’t rule out the possibility. You pick it up to examine it more closely, turning it in the light.

You move to pick up the photo again with the ring still resting in the palm of your other hand, blowing off the dust that has created a film over it. Two men are squatting in the very front, and you identify the darker of the two as Hamilton himself. He’s beaming in his red racing suit, a bright yellow helmet between his knees. He has his signature braids tied back into a ponytail. Next to him is a pale brunette man with a square-ish jaw and light, sad-looking eyes. Likely his teammate, whose last name is escaping you. ‘Charles’ something…

Hold on. Charles. Hamilton mentioned him in his journal, making him another potential piece of the puzzle. The two had clearly been close enough to still be in contact long after the man had withdrawn from the public. He might be very old now, but still living. Could he know something…?

Just as you’re about to pull your phone out to look him up, a familiar noise rips through the air. An engine revving. You dare to draw closer to the window and look out into the driveway. Sure enough, he’s there, circling. It’s time to go.

Despite the distance, there’s no way the rider doesn’t see you sprinting out the front door (you really should have found an alternate exit) and towards where your car is parked, whipping out your keys at light speed to unlock it. As soon as you’re inside, you realize that there is metal still digging into your palm. You’re clutching onto something. Slowly, you open your hand.

Fuck, the ring! That’s definitely stealing, but you’ll have to return it a different day. Not like Hamilton will need it back any time soon. 

Pocketing the thing in your jacket, you floor it as soon as you’re able to pull out of the driveway. The motorist thankfully doesn’t appear in your rearview, but you hear him rev his engine in the distance. Like a warning.

-

You smooth a hand over the wide-legged black pants you’re wearing, paired with a form-fitting tube top and red pumps to offset all the black. The listening party was advertised to have been “exclusive”, but the size of the crowd could’ve had you fooled. In the months since you’d published your concert review, it seems that VIII has gained quite a few new friends in high places. You spot a couple of influencers snapping photos with both their phones and flashing digital cameras, several other artists with twice his listeners that you recognize in passing but can’t recall the names of, and two journalists whom you can distinguish by the open laptops and knitted brows. It’d be perfectly fitting for you to be here. That is, if you were a music journalist.

You still aren’t sure why you were invited; you’d made it clear to VIII’s manager over email that you wouldn’t be writing an album review, or live tweeting, or whatever. This wasn’t even your lane anymore. You’d only met the man twice anyhow. 

Speaking of which, the crowd erupts in applause as the man of the hour emerges from backstage. Even here, he’s still got the fencing mask on. The singer has on a black turtleneck, over which he has on a black leather jacket with a baggier fit. They’re paired with equally-baggy patterned denim jeans that fall over a pair of red Vans. He is given a handheld microphone, and you’re startled again by how quiet his speaking voice is even with the added amplifier.

“Thank you all for coming,” he says. “You definitely didn’t have to be here, spending your evenings listening to my music. My music! I mean…it’s still so crazy to think that enough people care about my art and my journey to fill a concert hall, to fill this room. This’ll be my first full album. And so, I wanted to use it to tell a full story that was worth sitting through the full hour to hear. I hope it is. Worth it, I mean. Enjoy.”

The crowd erupts in applause, and he takes a small bow before stepping off the low stage and approaching the scattered tables, where drinks have begun to be served. You expect him to sit near someone on his team, like a producer or even his manager. You raise an eyebrow in surprise when he takes the empty seat next to you. His movements are slow, tentative, his shoulders slightly hunched as he settles onto the leather stool. The fencing mask is facing you. If you could imagine the facial expression beneath it based on his tone, it would be a timid smile.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You tilt your head with a lopsided grin. “You’re already sitting here. And I’m not really sure why, to be honest.”

A soft chuckle. “What do you mean? I owe, like, half my career to you!”

“Please,” you wave a dismissive hand, “You were already gaining traction by the time I wrote that review.”

“But it was a damn good review. I’d be an asshole not to invite you.”

As kind as the gesture is, you regret sitting where VIII could see you, especially as you’re now sipping idly on champagne. You feel his eyes on you the entire time the album plays despite them not being visible. In the middle of the second track, your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket. You wait until the singer seems focused on the front of the room, and pull it out discreetly.

It’s a notification from a news article, and the headline makes your blood run cold.

BREAKING: HAMILTON MANSION GOES UP IN FLAMES, AUTHORITIES SUSPECT ARSON.

You shut off your phone with a trembling hand, setting it down on your lap as you stare blankly ahead. Someone has just set part of a man’s legacy on fire, and you’re certain that you are to blame.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Thinking Styles

Here is a theory that may help you with character development.

The theory of mental self-government holds that styles of thinking can be understood in terms of constructs from our notions of government.

On this view, the kinds of governments we have in the world are not merely coincidental, but rather are external reflections or mirrors of ways in which we can organize or govern ourselves.

According to this theory, people can be understood in terms of the functions, forms, levels, scope, and leanings of government. 

People do not exhibit just one style or another, but they do have preferences across various kinds of tasks and situations.

Functions

There are 3 functions of government in this theory:

Legislative. The legislatively oriented student has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require creation, formulation, planning of ideas, strategies, products, and the like. This kind of individual likes to decide what to do and how to do it, rather than to be told.

Executive. The executively oriented individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that provide structure, procedures, or rules to work with, and that, although modifiable, can serve as guidelines to measure progress. Whereas the legislatively oriented individual likes to decide what to and how to do it, the executively oriented student will often prefer to be told what to do, and will then give it his or her best shot at doing it well.

Judicial. The judicially oriented individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require evaluation, analysis, comparison–contrast, and judgment of existing ideas, strategies, projects, and the like. This individual tends to be evaluative of others, sometimes on the basis of minimal information.

Forms

There are 4 different forms of mental self-government in this theory:

Monarchic. The monarchic individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that allow complete focus on one thing or aspect at a time until it is complete. A monarchically oriented individual is single-minded and often driven, and likes to finish one thing before moving on to the next.

Hierarchic. The hierarchic individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that allow creation of a hierarchy of goals to fulfill. This individual likes to do multiple things in a given time frame, but assigns differential priorities for getting them done. Hierarchic people tend to be adaptive in many settings where it is necessary to set priorities for getting certain things done before others, or where it is necessary to decide that some things are more worthy of attention than are others.

Oligarchic. The oligarchic individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that allow working with competing approaches, with multiple aspects or goals that are equally important. This individual, like the hierarchically oriented one, likes to do multiple things within a given time frame, but has trouble setting priorities for which to get done when. The oligarchically oriented individual thus adapts well if the competing demands are of roughly equal priority, but has more trouble if the things are of different priorities.

Anarchic. The anarchic individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that lend themselves to great flexibility of approaches, and to trying anything when, where, and how he or she pleases. This individual tends to be asystematic or even antisystematic. The individual tends to take a random approach to problems, and is sometimes difficult for other people to understand.

Levels

There are 2 levels of mental self-government:

Local. The local individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require engagement with specific, concrete details. This individual likes to work with the nitty-gritty, but may lose the forest for the trees. Individuals displaying this style tend to enjoy tasks that require them to keep track of details and focus on concrete specifics of a situation.

Global. The global individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require engagement with large, global, abstract ideas. This individual likes to deal with big ideas, but sometimes can lose touch with the details—the individual may see the forest but lose track of the trees. People employing this style enjoy tasks that encourage them to think about major ideas and not have to worry about details.

Scope

There are 2 scopes of mental self-government:

Internal. The internal individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require activities that allow one to work independently of others. This individual prefers to work alone, is typically introverted, and is often uncomfortable in groups.

External. The external individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that allow working with others in a group or interacting with others at different stages of progress. This individual prefers to work with others, is typically extraverted, and is very comfortable in group settings.

Leanings

There are 2 leanings of mental self-government:

Liberal. The liberal individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that involve unfamiliarity, going beyond existing rules or procedures, and maximization of change. Sometimes the individual may prefer change simply for the sake of change, even when it is not ideal. People displaying a liberal style like new challenges and thrive on ambiguity.

Conservative. The conservative individual has a predilection for tasks, projects, and situations that require adherence to existing rules and procedures. This individual likes to minimize change and avoid ambiguity.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[quitealotofsodapop]

Nexha becomes Wukong and MK's "bodyguard," so to speak. It was the only compromise a raging Wukong would accept. And yes, it HAD to be Nezha. He didn't trust anyone else after the mess that happened with them being imprisoned for something they didn't even do last time!

It had been Nezha's idea anyways.

Lao Tzu still wants them to visit Heaven for routine updates/testing because this is a new and fascinating ability that he, as the greatest alchemist in Heaven, has great interest in. Several other prophets want in on the action, too. Wukong... is less pleased about that, but after he gets past the whole "lab rat" part, he can't help but admit he enjoys being in the alchemy lab again. His duties as a king have always prevented him from pursuing his true passion in herbology and medicines, so it's nice to be able to do research again, even if it isn't plantbased.

MK is just bored of it all, but he likes sparring with Nezha and Erlang!

Prev.

Nezha is on Monkey Duty for the foreseeable future.

He was assigned the bodyguarding duty more to ease the minds of the other gods than anything else. Learning that the Havoc of Heaven himself is able to completely disregard the future told in the stars, puts a lot of celestials on edge.

Lao Tzu super-mega interested in Wukong and MK's abilities. Not only for the fate changing and prophecy defying aspects; but because it's a recordable example of Entropy.

Entropy = the scientific theory that the higher the power, the greater the dispersal of energy and therefore the greater the chance of Chaos.

However recording these powers are a lot harder than it looks.

Macaque's past and future hearing is a little easier to record since he's able to meditate to put himself into a trance where he can Listen fully; but the actual audio information he receives can be completely random and not give much insight into whats to come. Lao Tzu has both a clear outdoors area and a soundproofed room for Macaque to meditate/sleep in so they can record his hearings.

MK is nearly impossible to record. He literally said "No" to the apocalypse and broke a cycle of death and rebirth. He also get super bored really fast. At least the celestial realm is super cool!

Meanwhile, to distract himself from the boredom of being tested on; Wukong starts asking Lao Tzu some really educated and insightful questions about the methods he's using - accidentally letting it slip that the Monkey King is a huge nerd.

After the first visit, Lao Tzu honestly thinks the Jade Emperor underestimated the monkey's talents. He would have certainly been a better assistant that those Gold and Silver Demons thats for sure!

[potatomountain]

CIY- 3

Chapter Three

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍word count: 3.2k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: (TBD)

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

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Two more days passed without another encounter, or even an assignment for work, and you felt as if you had gotten all the information you could possibly find with your access. There was an abundance of notes, including theories of ties and such, but you truthfully couldn’t find an answer to Yunho’s question that was different than before- or that you could do alone with your minimum resources.

While tomorrow the Captain should figuratively be back, you decided that you could wait another day. You didn’t want to have to deal with the Captain of this pompous team, and after mulling it over for the last hour before your shift was up, you picked up the phone and hit line 3. Part of you expected that he wouldn’t pick up, that you would be ignored, but you were more than relieved when he did.

“What do you need?” Even if he was a bit snappy.

“I’d like to have tomorrow off. Scratch that, I won’t be coming in tomorrow.” You really didn’t want his permission for anything honestly.

“The Captain will be here tomorrow, may I ask why?” His interest seemed to be piqued, which truthfully just annoyed you. Under different circumstances it might be nice that they had an interest, but you knew it was entirely because they were just too distrustful of you.

Still, you relented a bit. “Do you think I want to make an hour-long trek every single day just to get here? I get the keys for my new place tonight and I plan on moving everything tomorrow. Plus, no one guaranteed your Captain to be here and I don’t want to sit here twiddling my damned thumbs waiting.”

There was silence on the other end, only your frustrated huffs filling it for a long awkward moment. “Very well- under one condition.”

Your relief was short lived, glaring at the receiver. “What do you mean? What condition?”

“We’ve been more than jerks to you, and an hour move isn’t the easiest. Yunho and Jongho can help you move.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor, shock being an understatement. “You want to help me settle in? What the fuck??”

There was a displeased grumble on his end, the shifting of a chair. “You don’t have any intention of leaving us anytime soon, and while yes we don’t want you on the team it’s inevitable at the moment and it is unfair to take it out on you.”

His words made sense but you were still unsettled by the offer. “You really aren’t giving me a choice either. If I want to have a day off to move, I’ll have to accept their help?”

“Mmm, if you want tomorrow off, yes. I'm sure you can wait two more days for your official day off and spend the entirety of it moving alone if you wish but I imagine it would be much more efficient this way.”

You felt your eye twitch at his haughty tone. “Fine. I accept the condition. They can meet me at my old place, 8 o’clock sharp. It sounds like you don’t need the address either.”

“I’ll notify them. Anything else?”

Biting back the urge to cuss him out every which way, you gritted your teeth. “No.” You hung up first, slamming the phone down on the receiver and huffing back into your chair.

Two hours later you had the keys to your new place in hand and headed back home, attempting to fix your sour mood by focusing on packing the very last bits and arranging everything. You booked the movers and headed to bed early still in a sour mood.

Sleep did nothing to remedy that, as the pounding on your door at five to eight alerted you to just how annoying this day was going to be. “That’s probably the rest of my help. Excuse me for a moment.” With a huff you left the mover alone to swing your door open. “Wow, I can’t believe you actually showed up.” 

Yunho towered over you, widening his friendly smile- which you were sure was as fake as they come- and Jongho stood behind him, seeming as if someone pissed in his coffee… which might as well have been the case. Yunho looked you over with an appreciative hum, causing you to cross your arms over your chest defensively. You were dressed for comfort, unlike your usual work suits, which had seemed like a good idea until now. 

“Of course, Seonghwa pleaded a good case. He can be very persuasive. May we come in?” Yunho nodded his head to the space behind you.

Jongho scoffed behind him. “I’d rather not.” He mumbled before you could answer.

Your sour mood definitely wasn’t going away any time soon. “You don’t have to be, I was fine on my own.”

“Sure you were.” Dripping with sarcasm, Jongho rolled his eyes as he just pushed his way in and looked around. He spotted the mover, a man in his late thirties that was the truck driver as well, and made his way over to help him.

Scoffing, you glared at his back. “I’d ask if he is always like that but I already know I’m an exception.”

“Let’s just get this done, I have plans tonight.” Yunho sighed, pushing his way inside and letting the overly friendly air around him melt away as he also went to help the mover.

You were fine with that, keep it simple and have them focus on helping the man you were paying- you didn’t want their help anyways. Huffing, you propped your front door open and went back to work.

It only took an hour before all of your furniture was safely in the truck and you were about to tear Jongho’s head off. “Can you STOP trying to break my fucking shit?!” He had, for the nth time, been too rough with some of your furniture, dropping it roughly into the truck and causing the nearby things to shake.

“Have less shit.” He shrugged nonchalantly, jumping off the truck and passing you as he headed back into the apartment complex

“I swear I’m going to- agh!” Throwing your hands up you glared after him, only to turn the glare on Yunho who was clearly holding his laughter at bay. “Want to say something?!”

With a chuckle he shook his head, setting down the box he was carrying. “And face your wrath? No thanks.” 

Rolling your eyes you followed after him inside to grab the next box. “Oh please, you don’t think I’m a threat at all.” You mumbled, staring at his broad back as you two climbed the stairs. A few trips ago Yunho had pushed the sleeves of his dark shirt up to his elbows, revealing a sleeve on his right arm of black ink. You hadn’t bothered to pay it much attention, but it had you once again admitting they were attractive- the shitty personalities just ruined it for you.

“True. And if you assaulted me it would get you suspended faster.”

You felt your eye twitch, just as annoyed with Yunho as you were with Jongho. While Jongho was outright rude and grumbling his protests at every opportunity, Yunho was just passive aggressive, hiding most of his jabs behind a supposed friendly remark. The warm tone he had didn’t help either.

Still, the reminder that you could easily lose your job if you let your temper win was just the dose of reality you needed to calm down. “I’d say that’s the only downside if I left physical bruises.” You mumbled. 

His deep chuckle caught you by surprise, a twinkle in his eye when he looked back at you. “I’d say that depends on how we receive the bruises, and if we get to leave some too.”

Clearly flirting, you froze up, eyes going wide. “Detective, are you implying you would enjoy fucking me?”

The smirk he gave you was most definitely real. “It has crossed my mind… attitude aside, you are quite attractive and gags are a thing.”

Steaming, you pushed past him with a sneer. “You’re a fucking douchebag.” 

You kept busy after that, mouth shut and just glaring or sneering at Jongho’s remarks while completely ignoring Yunho after that. Another hour later and the truck was packed up and you had your bag and laptop in hand, giving the driver the address before watching him drive off. Turning to return the key to your apartment manager you frowned at the sight of the two detectives. 

Yunho once more had his hands in his pockets, sleeves still pushed up, but now Jongho also had the sleeves of his striped sweater pushed up- which made no sense to you since he was wearing gloves. “You two are still here?”

“Of course- you aren’t done moving.”

Ignoring Yunho, you narrowed your eyes on Jongho who was avoiding looking at you. “I don’t have to tell you the address.” Jongho just rolled his eyes at your defiance, practically daring you to do so when he matched your glare. 

When neither budged, or left, you shrugged your shoulders and headed inside. You weren’t surprised to find them still there twenty minutes later, your apartment key now returned, but once more you paid them no mind, instead getting a cab.

You should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy. Before you even shut the cab door they were sliding in on either side of you, cramping up the back seat as they stretched their legs out. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Give the nice driver the address sweetheart.” Yunho adjusted himself in the seat, long legs in front of him and his right arm stretched out behind you.

Jongho said nothing on your right, his leg bouncing in annoyance while the driver watched you expectantly in the rearview mirror. With a sigh you relented, quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place with no means of escape. Once your new address was given, the driver pulled onto the road.

The tension in the silence between the three of you during the ride was so thick you swore you could physically touch it. Jongho’s leg never stopped bouncing and both stared out the window. Yunho was practically leaning against you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and every time you pushed it off it was back several minutes later so you had given up on that.

The drive was an hour as it was past the precinct office, more south, near the docks. Thinking about the location reminded you of just what gang territory both your apartment and the precinct technically was in- you wondered why it never occurred to you beforehand.

Was that why the Precinct was so inconspicuous? Or was that why the Black Pirates were so cautious?

Theories ran through your head, a nice distraction as you couldn’t look out either window without being reminded of the men you were uncomfortably sandwiched between. For a moment you wondered if they suspected you might have ties to one of the gangs, and that could be why they were so untrusting.

The idea had you softening a bit because that you could understand and be empathetic towards. They had years of work into trying to find a way to undo several crime organizations, which probably had their hands in law enforcement and higher, onlyfor you to transfer out of the blue? Your insistent need to stay?

Your shoulders slumped a bit, not liking the sudden understanding of their perspective- that made them less jerks and more… well more like you. It was hard to dismiss their defenses when you thought they had damned good reasons for it. 

Battling with your morals for the last small leg of the drive, Yunho had to tap your shoulder to get you out of your head. You turned to look up at him, still a bit distracted. “Hm?”

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as his eyes searched your face. His expression seemed to soften, which was the indicator that your own expression was perhaps more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. Steeling yourself, and your expression, you pulled away and lifted a brow.

He sighed, his own defenses coming back up. “We’ve arrived. Pay the man.” He huffed out before stepping out of the taxi, Jongho already standing outside.

Whether you could empathize or not, they still got under your skin so easily. Grumbling you did pay the driver before getting out of the car, looking up at the small apartment building that was now your new home. 

“Is this really the place?” Jongho asked, joining you and Yunho on the sidewalk.

“Mhmm, apartment 16, third floor.” Adjusting your bag, you headed for the front door. Part of what sold you about this place was the security- the halls and entrances were monitored twenty-four seven and you needed a key code to get it- 1117. Inputting it, you stepped inside, not bothering to see if they were following. “I have to give the security guard a heads up that I’m moving things in, give me a second.”

The office was right by the front door, the security an elderly gentleman that said you could prop the door open and to ask him if you needed help. You came back out to Yunho holding back laughter and Jongho in an even more pissed off mood. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Oh nothing nothing, this neighborhood just has some fond memories for me- Jongho isn’t too happy I brought them up.” Yunho patted the latter on the back before pointing to the truck that was pulling onto the curb. “We beat the mover, how about that.”

You didn’t push it, instead shaking your head and heading for the truck.

Despite your protest, the guard did come out to help you within the first hour of bringing everything in. While it was two floors shorter of a trek, it still took a bit to get everything into your new apartment- which was bigger and had a better view. If you could call the river docks a view, just a few blocks out.

Every time Yunho brought something into your apartment though, he had a shit-eating grin on his face that had annoyed you to no end. Whenever you questioned him, he would just shrug it off and say it was nothing important.

You did catch Jongho mumbling “this is going to make things so much worse” yet when you questioned him, he just brushed you off. That only aggravated you more, especially because there was nothing you could do about it.

By the time everything was safely in your apartment and the mover was fully paid and left, it was almost two and your stomach was growling. Having been in such a rush to get everything to your new apartment so you didn’t have to deal with these two longer than you had to, you had forgotten to eat or drink anything despite the constant physical excursion. 

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself asking them if they wanted food.

“What?” Jongho's wide eyes narrowed into a glare. “You're joking aren't you?”

Rolling your eyes you shook your head. “I wish. However… you did help, and quickly too.” You admitted begrudgingly, a pout on your lips.

Yunho grinned. “Well I won't say no to free food- you are paying for it aren't you?”

“I'll pass.” Jongho headed for the door but you immediately stepped in his way, earning a sneer from him. “I thought you couldn't get rid of me fast enough? Why the sudden change?”

You matched his sneer. “I'm not an immature bitch who won't pay my debts just because I don't like you- so you can either stay and eat or accept cash.”

The two of you stared each other down while Yunho made his way over, hooking his arm around Jongho's shoulder and whispering something in his ear you couldn't hear. Whatever it was softened Jongho enough that he broke eye contact first. 

“I'll stay and eat then. Fuck-” He grumbled over to your sofa.

You just fixed Yunho with a stare now. “How did you convince him to stay?”

“Easy- the longer we are here, the more we are paid. We're getting hourly for this.” Yunho stuffed his hands in his pockets, shit eating grin back. “Does that make you want to kick us out faster?”

You scoffed, pulling out your phone to order food. “Hardly. I'm not the one paying you to be here. What do you want to eat?”

Even agreeing on food was a hassle but you managed to get an order in, something that was quick to the door at least. While you waited you just started moving things around, the two men sitting on your sofa chatting under their breath and constantly sending you side glances.

It was easy to tune them out, partly because you started with your room.

You were struggling with your bed, getting the frame back together but the mattress and moving it was a problem. Like hell you were going to ask for help though, even in your hungry and exhausted state. When it suddenly moved into place, you nearly fell face first on the floor, scrambling to stay upright as laughter was heard next to you.

Turning with a glare, Yunho was standing at the other end of the bed, not bothering to hide his laughter this time. “Sorry, your struggles just got so pathetic I had to help.”

“I would have let her keep struggling.” Jongho spoke up from the doorway, a satisfied smirk on his face melting into a chuckle when your cheeks burned. “Too bad you didn't face-plant.”

“Shut up. I would have been fine!” A bit out of breath didn't help your case however.

“Are you sure this is where you want your bed?”

“I moved it here didn't I?” You snapped back at Yunho who was looking over your bed with more humor than you were expecting. “What's so fucking funny?”

“Nothing nothing- it just occurred to me that you don't have a sex life.” Yunho teased, licking his lips when he looked you over.

Stiffening defensively you hoped your embarrassment wasn't as obvious as your heated cheeks. “So what?! Don't tell me you want to change that? I'll pass.” 

“If the two of you are going to fuck, let me leave first.” Jongho grumbled, turning to leave. “Food's here.”

Yunho just shrugged off both comments, still staring you down. “I'll pass as well, doll, otherwise your neighbors would get annoyed.” He motioned to the wall your bed was propped against. “And you wouldn't get your security deposit back.” Laughing at his own joke he followed after Jongho, leaving you steaming.

The images he had planted in your mind had you rethinking your bed position, which just had you even more flustered. This wasn't the time to try and hook up with someone, definitely not one of your new coworkers and a random hookup wasn't the best idea either. Yet you would be lying to yourself if what he said didn't spike some urges- the who was probably irrelevant.

Slapping your cheeks to regain some focus you headed out to the living area, telling yourself the only kind of rough play that would happen would be you bashing the heads of these two idiots in. As if your unsuspecting neighbors would be able to tell that though.

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[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Prompt) (Ao3 link)

(The results from the poll have arrived!! You have chosen unintentional Yandere Damian! )

Danny had a feeling the next several months were going to suck. Out of everyone in his school, he'd been the one picked for the whole "Transfer student," nonsense. With his reputation, you'd think he'd be the last person you'd want to show off out of state.

Regardless, Danny was chosen, and now he was on a plane headed to New Jersey Gotham. "The City of Crime" sounds like a blast and a half. All the rouges and criminals that wouldn't be his problem to deal with. It seemed like heaven in theory, but Danny knew with his luck he'd be getting mugged left, right, and center.

Pressing his face against the window, Danny allowed his mind to wander. To the portal, the friends who wouldn't be here to support him, to the ghosts who didn't want to kill him. Dani and Val were going to pick up the slack back home but that wouldn't help with the rumors no doubt going around about Phantom's disappearance. He could only hope he still had a secret identity when he got home.

Maybe if he did crime against the local vigilantes he'd get sent home early...

No, the rouges and local criminals did that on a daily basis they wouldn't crack from a little trolling. Or maybe they would? Then again, Red Hood used guns and the current Robin ran around with a real ass god-damn sword so trolling was a bad idea.

In all honesty, Robin was intimidating even with the little information he had about him. All he had were blurry, articles from various news outlets and attempted interviews with some ridiculously persistent reporter. Robin sounded more cryptic than he was! The entire concept of a teenager his age manifesting out of the shadows and chasing him with a katana would forever be his biggest concern during his stay in Gotham.

When the plane touched down Danny was left in a busy airport terminal. Vague instructions from his teachers and chatter from the employees trying to get him out onto the street as soon as possible were all he had to go off right now. Also, a brochure that he was 90% sure was all bullshit.

Gotham's air felt closer to smoke than it was anything breathable. Burning his nostrils, a scent of gas and cigarette smoke pretty much engulfed the city. It was so bad the second he took a breath, his core jolted, snapping into gear, not allowing anything to enter his lungs before it filtered. He'd never been so glad about dying until now, and never had he ever been as impressed in a population as he was now.

Danny had only been here for ten minutes or so but he'd already come to the conclusion that Gothamites were as metal as amity parkers. Wandering through the city, Danny tried to keep his face neutral. Not a smile or the slightest tell that he wasn't from here. He'd rather not get mugged before he reached his apartment. Though, maybe a fatal injury would get him sent home early.

Looking down at the map on his phone, Danny drew closer to the apartment building he'd been assigned to stay at. Supposedly, it was closer to the rich kid school he'd be temporarily attending. Why they decided it was okay for a teenager to live by himself in Gotham was a complete and total mystery. He could only hope he wouldn't die a second time during his stay.

Getting the key from the front desk was a much easier process than he'd thought It'd be. But it could never be quick enough. His suitcases were heavy!! And he was so very very tired. When he got into his apartment he tossed his suitcases onto the floor, inspecting the place he'd be staying for the next few months. It pretty good setup, a bathroom with a combined bath and shower, a tiny kitchen for cooking, and a small bedroom with a twin XL mattress. Grey sheets that Danny didn't quite trust were clean. Danny barely had the time to settle in before he was pelted with schedules, school rules, and uniform requirements.

His uniform as supplied by the school was a navy blue blazer with the school label embroidered on the pocket. A tie striped black and blue tucked into a stuffy-looking dress shirt. Overall it felt more like he was dressing up for one of Vlad's stupid Gala's than it did school.

He wasn't given any time to unpack, not a second to relax or get used to his surroundings. Nope! He was expected to pack up his school supplies and head to school right away! Seriously, not a minute before the front office was asking where he was, as if offended he didn't teleport to school the moment he touched down.

The school itself was intimidating. Twice the size of Casper High, it looked like a private school. It also looked like a school where he'd face severe bullying. Just from looking at the entrance, he could tell this building had proper equipment down to the most obscure of clubs. Kids rushed past him some looking panicked as a school bell rang while others just seemed annoyed.

He strolled leisurely through the school hall on the way to the office. There was no rush, he didn't even want to be here. What were they going to do? Send him home? Oh no, what a tragedy! Snickering under his breath, Danny scrolled through the avalanche of texts Vlad was sending him. All of them pertaining the same message of "Get your ass to school you're making me look bad!" It almost convinced him to skip but the pissed-off edge to the office lady's voice in their last phone call was enough to goad him into creeping into the office.

A face of thinly veiled annoyance rested on the desk lady's face. He could barely get a word out before a school map and schedule were shoved into his hands. A bare-bones explanation of the school rules was given along with his school ID before he was all but shouted at to get to class.

You'd think there'd be an adjusting period where they'd walk him through everything and let him get settled in at his own pace, but nope! This is Gotham! Apparently, that's not how they roll with transfer students. It's like they wanted him back in amity as much as he did.

He wasn't sure if he liked that or not...

(I don't know who want's to be tagged for this one)

[scimagic]

Any tips for artist tryna improve their art? Love ur art and would love to some tips and tricks of yours! ^^

BOOHOO;; THANK YOU!! THAT'S SUCH A NICE COMPLIMENT TO ME;; Like what do you mean you like what I do enough that you want to hear some tips from me!! DON'T MAKE ME CRY FHDJKSA

I really really tried to make things short for you but I don't think I was very successful dkhkdh but I hope you find them useful!! <3

Tracing (not the stealing kind):

Tracing is not bad when it's used to study, some of my college assignments were copying renaissance artists' sketches! Hell, when I was a kid I used to trace Undertale fanart I liked and look where I'm at fhjkads

When you study other people's styles, you can actually gather a lot of information like line weight or proportions, colors, even stylization. So get your favorite artists' pieces and really look at them for a long time, draw them, then apply what you learn into your own art. Just be careful to not steal or claim something as your own!

Focus on one area at a time:

Now you have to chose one area to practice on. You could tackle on many at a time but I find it easier to pinpoint what I would like to do first and then move on to the next thing.

There's a lot of subjects you can go into like anatomy, rendering, backgrounds, but you just have to find one area in them and get a lot of references.

For anatomy you can go into: muscle movement, figure drawing, body parts in different angles.

Rendering: Shading, lighting, color theory.

Backgrounds: Point perspective, different camera angles, landscapes or detailed room scenes.

Don't overwhelm yourself either! Take one thing at a time!

Dear god get a reference board:

Pinterest really helped me find styles I wanted to study and anatomy tips to incorporate in my art. It really relates to my first point but having an actual compilation of how things look next to you really helps. It also helps keeping them organized like so:

Do The Thing™️ anyway:

I know it's repetitive but it genuinely works you have to trust me, practice does make progress. Stop letting fear hold you back on compositions you think are great or believe you don't have "enough skills yet" to work on them. You will never get enough skills if you don't try.

My college classes forced me to pick up watercolors and paint backgrounds and I learned a lot just from trying it out. Make mistakes!! Have fun! That's how you truly improve on your skills!

Be patient and loving with yourself (and your art!):

I cannot stress enough how important it is to love your art in order to grow. You NEED to learn how to be patient with your art AND your journey because it will never compare to anyone's!! Art is not a competition nor a race, it's a medium to express yourself through a process you like. That's why there's millions of art styles and why each of them cater to a different audience!

Once you do, you can actually ask important questions like "Did I like the process? What can I improve on next time? What's something I liked I want to continue incorporating into my art?", and it helps with self esteem too.

And last but not least:

Have fun!!

Art is a journey of self-discovery, it's not meant to be something that weighs you down or makes you feel bad when you're not working on it. Take constant breaks! No matter how short or how long! If you get tired or incredibly frustrated at it, then it's probably best you take a break from it!

Thank you for listening and supporting me!! I love you!!