#it would be roughly triangular

[foggyfanfic]

There comes a point when you are doing too much research for fanfic, and that point is probably way before you’re looking up the interactions between the Cocos and Nazcas plates in order to decide where you would put a fictional island if you want it off the coast of Colombia.

[firelord-frowny]

<3 <3 obviously one of the highlights of my visit to the national aquarium the other day was the reptiles <3 <3 specifically the snakes, SPECIFICALLY the death adder omgggg.

there is something so??????????? magical???????????? about being able to put your face just inches away from something that, if it were to bite you, would definitely kill you.

like, to have a thin lil pane of glass be all that keeps a small but very deadly beast from being able to end my life????????????

amazing.

[author-by-night]

I love stupid sci-fi tech designs. Love them.

In this case, I’m watching The Cloverfield Paradox. Our cast is up in a space station that has gravity. The station is spinning, so it must be spin gravity… right?

First problem: the plane that is “down” is perpendicular to the spin axis. So everyone should be getting pulled not to the floor but to the outermost wall of their rooms. Except…

Second problem: the spinning decks are set around a central spire which is also spinning. This would mean that the decks are not experiencing a constant rate of spin, it’s more like the motion of…

Well, you ever ride a sizzler…?

[softlyfiercely]

my descent into crayon madness

okay so. i just spent the past week of my life doing almost nothing besides making crayons, because when you are making crayons, you cannot do anything else. i wish i had taken actual nice, before-and-after type photos documenting this project, but i didn't. instead my life descended into total chaos for a week while i made almost one thousand recycled crayons. i thought tumblr might enjoy this. under a cut (do you love the color of the crayon)

it started innocently enough. i am a youth and children's minister, and as part of the children's program materials, we have this big bin of crayons that are dull or broken, and as such, the children absolutely refuse to color with them. but it feels wasteful to throw out pounds upon pounds of crayons that would be perfectly usable if not for the fact that the kids broke them and then immediately went 'oh no, not the quencies' (for kids who are so anti-broken-crayon, you'd think they'd be a bit gentler with the unbroken ones. not so)

so i think, wouldn't it be neat if i melted them down and made new crayons with them? and i can give them out as part of the easter gift bags? that way the church spends no money on easter gifts and we deal with this huge bin of otherwise unusable crayons.

can't be too hard, right? a few years ago, we did a similar activity for trinity sunday as an object lesson on the trinity - but i didn't actually have a crayon shaped mold, so we used other silicone mold shapes, and the kid-made crayons came out cute as an illustration of the trinity but not that usable as, you know. crayons

it turns out, that in the wide world of etsy and other online marketplaces, there really aren't that many silicone crayon molds? i could really only find this one that makes chunky triangular crayons. sure. i ordered a set of two. each mold makes six crayons at a time. so i could make twelve crayons at a time.

i would later regret this choice.

so then i got the big bin of broken crayon bits. the first step was of course to peel the paper off. to do this, you soak the crayons in hot water.

did you know that if you take a bin of crayons that has been chillin in a children's program room for fucking decades, and you soak those fuckers in hot water, the water becomes...horrifying?

also, for some reason - any crayola chemists out there, please help me understand - green crayons do NOT like to peel. the paper comes right off the warm colors and the blacks and browns, but green is super resistant to getting naked, and blue and purple are rough too. ran out of green much faster than any other color, and had a bunch of leftover green bits that simply would not give up their paper wrappings.

so then you have a bunch of naked crayons, and a bunch of soggy crayon paper wrappers that you must dispose of. (this is more annoying that it seems.) also, peeling this many crayons with your hands will put crayon gunk residue under your fingernails, and since said gunk is designed to deposit color on things, it will be nearly impossible to get your hands to look remotely clean. i have been self conscious all week about my nails making me look like i haven't bathed in months

next, i decided to sort the crayons by color. if you do this AFTER you peel them, of course, it's hard to tell the blacks from the purples from the blues from the dark greys, so then you get to scribble on a bunch of scratch paper (ignore the scissors and laminating paper, that's from another children's ministry project)

now you have a bunch of sorted crayons. but if you want them to be all nice and swirly and make the most out of this whole recycled crayon deal, you must make them smaller. once a crayon is broken roughly in half, it's really hard to snap them smaller by hand.

enter...the chef's knife. i decided i should chop them up each on their own paper plate, to avoid cross-contamination of colors. but then of course that plate had to be on a cutting board, to avoid destruction of tabletops. i tried using a knife from our church kitchen so i wouldn't trash one of our nice sharp japanese knives from home, but my partner said it's easy enough to clean crayon off a knife and suggested we just use the good knife. here is a photo of him helping me chop crayons.

chopping up crayons with a chef's knife on a paper plate has the unfortunate effect of flinging tiny bits of crayon all over your house and clothes and table and floor. so now there are tiny crayon bits all over my house and clothes and table and floor.

here is a picture of the blues chopped up on a plate. (the stainless steel is from my church kitchen, back when i hilariously thought i could get this work done without letting it infiltrate every waking moment of my life)

and some chopped up red/pink bits in the moulds before going into the oven:

then.................the real trouble starts. you put the crayons in the oven at 270 degrees for 10 minutes. the bits get all melted and swirled up. cool! fun! right????

UNFORTUNATELY, this makes your ENTIRE house smell like melted crayons. this is not that big of a deal - it's not a very offensive smell - but, if you leave the crayons in for any longer than 10 minutes, or if you accidentally turn on the "convection" setting of the oven, YOU WILL FILL THE SPACE WITH CRAYON SCENTED SMOKE so don't do that

throughout this whole project, we had every fan and air purifier in the house running and every window open. my partner has been very patient with me turning our home into a crayon factory. he says hugging me is like opening a brand new box of 64 crayons and taking a whiff. all is crayon. crayon is all.

my whole house looked like this for a week. crayons. crayons everywhere. i was having dreams about crayons.

once the crayons are melted, you have to pull them out of the oven VERY carefully and evenly because sloshing and splashing liquid crayon is unhelpful. also, even if you put down aluminum foil or parchment paper on the baking tray, somehow it still will manage to get crayon wax all over it, so enjoy cleaning that off! (:

here are some melted purples after coming out of the oven. note how much wax has accumulated on the molds. if you think oh no, what if that gets into another color? well, it will. trying to pick or wipe or otherwise clean it off the moulds didn't go well. best bet is to just make the crayons in order of which colors are most likely to get ruined by the spillage or a fleck of another color into it.

sometimes when you pull them out of the oven, weird random chunks of crayon are not melted or sticking up. you can use a toothpick or piece of spaghetti pasta to try and resolve this. half the time this works. the other half it just kinda makes a bigger mess. party time!

now your crayons are out of the oven! yay! EXCEPT that now they need to cool off so you can take them out. you can't put them right into the fridge without splashing wax everywhere, so they need to cool at least enough to move them to the fridge for a few minutes. this takes about 20 minutes.

this became the bane of my existence. because if you want to get this done in any sort of timely fashion - which i did, so i could clean it up and stop living in a crayon factory, and also because these need to get done by easter - then you need to be cycling through batches as fast as you can, so you're on a cycle of 10 minutes in oven, 20 minutes cooling, peel out of the molds, refill the molds, 10 minutes in oven, rinse, repeat.

do you know how much Other Work you can get done in increments of 10 minutes and 20 minutes while keeping an eye on crayons? NOT MUCH. i'm also a writer who was trying to write, but 20 minutes is kind of the minimum length of time to get settled in to do deep work. and that 10 minutes when the crayons are in the oven, you really can't get distracted or into something else, lest you smoke yourself out with the rejected yankee candle fragrances Hideous Nightmares Of Sea Foam Green and Essence Of Tortured Brick Red

i did manage to do things like clear out my inbox, wash some dishes, etc. but mostly i found that while my brain was devoted to Attend To Crayon Cycle Timing, i wasn't getting much else done. i did catch up on some serious law and order back catalog, though.

my partner says this is sort of like when you are coding and your code has to compile, so your 'get work done' mode continues to be interrupted by these intervals of time that are too short to get much else done but not short enough that you can just sit down and grind out continuous work.

once i started to have enough completed crayons, though, i started being able to sort them out into little organza bags (also found in the depths of the children's program room). each bag has a red/pink, yellow/orange, green, blue, purple, brown, and black/grey crayon. that was satisfying, though a bit nerve wracking to figure out how to keep things sorted and stored without risking dropping and breaking any of the crayons.

since i'd decided to do black last and brown second to last due to color contamination concerns, i ended up with a bunch of open bags that had all been pre-filled with the other colors just chilling on my kitchen counter

but finally, after a week of basically just making crayons and killing time in-between crayon making, i had made over 850 crayons, divided up into over 120 individual bags. as we will not have 120 kids in attendance at easter, hopefully these can serve us for years to come, and by the time we one again have another huge bin of broken crayon bits, it will be some other poor sap's problem!

this is a finished set of crayons - ignore the greeny bits in the yellow and orange crayon, this is before i worked out the right order in which to make them, and also, there are just crayon bits everywhere. diversity is our strength

and this is the bin with most of the bags! this bin was previously full to the brim with crayon bits, and now it is full of cool, usable, recycled crayons. and i only lost a little bit of my sanity. whoo!

[webby-mogai]

cognitohazardgender / infohazardgender /memetichazardgender

cognitohazardgender / infohazardgender /memetichazardgender

Cognitohazardgender is a gender identity when one's gender could be described as a cognitohazard- meaning if it were to be perceived by any of the 5 senses it would have some sort of anomalous effect. I.e. perceiving the gender could cause the individual to bleed for their eyes or ears, go insane, perform an anomalous task due to the perception of it, etc.

Infohazardgender is a gender identity when one's gender could be described as an infohazard- meaning the knowledge of or display of it would cause some sort of anomalous effect. I.e. a gender that becomes more dangerous the more people know about or understand it, a gender that only has anomalous effects when displayed or written about, etc.

Memetichazardgender is a gender identity when I could be described as a memetic hazard- meaning the sharing or spreading of me would cause some sort of anomalous effect, especially in relation to thoughts or behaviours. I.e. referencing me may cause me to talk in the first person as if I were me, speaking about me causing injury or death, etc.

Tagging @rabidbatboy because bro offered me monke gif 🔥

Symbols from this now deleted redditor(link) 🔥

[flag 1 id: a rectangular pride flag with 11 horizontal stripes, with a black and yellow triangle in the center containing an eye with an x in the pupil and radiation signs around it. the first and last stripes are black and say "DANGER" in yellow repeating, while the other stripes are: pink-brown, pink, light pink, bright orange and yellow, mirroring after that. the center yellow stripe is the widest with the others being roughly equal in width. /end id]

[flag 2 id: a flag similar to the last, but the pink stripes are a dark to light blue gradient and the symbol in the center contains an eye with an i in the center and poison signs around it. /end id]

[my id: i am a rectangular pride flag with 11 horizontal stripes. my top and bottom stripes are black with "DANGER" written in yellow repeating. my stripes inside of those are a dark to light grey gradient, with orange and yellow stripes inside of that, colors mirrored after. in the center of me is a triangular symbol in yellow and black with an eye on fire in the center and a lightning strike in the pupil. my center yellow stripe is the widest with my others being roughly similar in width. /end id]

[gailyinthedark]

I tried looking this up and then was like... why am I not asking the person who knows these things. So: any thoughts on or resources to help with something simple I could sew to wear at a medieval-themed market in 2 weeks time? Parameters are: likely to be hot, the crowd has a very low commitment to historical accuracy but I personally think it is more fun, and I am very confident around sewing and have plenty of time. I'll need to buy fabric but there's a sale so that's easy; I'm contemplating dying my own with gorse which was one of my favourite colours from my previous natural dying experiments (and is accurate). Where should I start?

AaaaAAAAAHHH this makes me so. Happy.

Below are a few possibilities from different eras so you can take your pick. Sorry my knowledge is pretty much limited to Britain.

Early Anglo-Saxon (400s-600s): basic tunic with a peplos overtop and cloth belt. Kilt pins make great fibulae. The trickiest part is learning to drape the peplos. Link with info.

Viking (800s-1000s): long sleeved gown with apron, cloth belt, and decorative beads. For hot weather I have seen someone make their gown without sleeves, which is probably not historically accurate but looks pretty awesome. Here's a link with lots of info.

Late Anglo-Saxon (600s-1000s): round-necked, long-sleeved undergown with a wider-necked, flared-sleeved overgown. Wide trim on the overgown neckline and hems. Wear with a low-slung belt, wimply drapy headdress, and brooches if you're rich. Link to get you started.

Gothic? I guess? (1300s-1400s): fitted gown with long sleeves and triangular panels to give the skirt fullness. Undergown is white with long sleeves; overgown is colored with sleeves of any length. A row of close-set buttons down the centre front looks very period. Hair should be braided, filleted and covered for a married woman, loose and uncovered for a young unmarried woman or a queen. Link to a sewing tutorial plus here are some contemporary depictions.

Materials are usually linen next to the skin and wool overtop, but you'll probably want a dupe. I find cotton flannellette can stand in for wool in a pinch. Colours are bright but not unnaturally so, since they were working with natural dyes (which you know all about. squee).

For shoes, I find something roughly moccasin-like works well for most eras. Also, if you are playing lower-class, a large round straw hat is usually perfectly accurate.

(I would love to see pictures of whatever you come up with if you're comfortable sharing!)

[sandraharissa]

Giving Silco a bad eye and making this his symbol was such a genius idea, like it’s so delicious on so many levels.

For one it really adds to his look/design. Fans would often joke that he looks like a rat, which is fair and funny, but imo the goal of the designers was to make him look like a shark. He’s got this peculiar nose that gives his whole head roughly the shape of a shark snout, he’s got the broken teeth that look like triangular shark teeth, and then there’s the eye, which has no eyelid and never blinks, exactly like a shark’s eye.

(see Jinx gets it)

Then, on the topic of no eyelid, he obvs never blinks with that eye which gives the impression of constant surveillance and being all-knowing. This ties nicely into the eye being his symbol, the image we see of the open eye that never blinks that is present on all the locations he owns/has influence over/oversees. That was most definitely a part of Silco’s Undercity that he established, keeping ppl in line through fear. It’s reflected in his own man refusing to cooperate with Cait but instead of insulting her or claiming loyalty to a cause he says ‘he’ll kill me’, then we also see it with Babette (who I’m certain knew everything but wouldn’t risk it for Vi and so essentially lead Vi to Sevika/her death) and Huck. It’s most obvious with Marcus, how he thought he could do what he wanted (‘rescue Vi’) against Silco’s interests behind his back cos he’ll never find out, but he does find out eventually which puts Marcus and his daughter in a Situation. This is how Silco does business. (Babette knew and didn’t want to find herself in a Situation in the future imo, telling Vi nothing of value, sending Vi away in a way that wouldn’t cast suspicion on herself and wouldn’t tie Vi to the location of her brothel and essentially leading her to Sevika so she could retroactively claim loyalty even if found out.)

In general the eye imagery is often connected to seeing more than others, the third eye and knowledge. All apply to Silco through his ideas of independence and a unified nation that were revolutionary for the Undercity and ahead of its time. Most notable is the moment when he talks to Vander about Zaun, he looks in the distance as tho he can see it in front of him meanwhile others can’t. Here I could also point to other things like him understanding/being right about the Council like ‘I just need to scare them’ and also the thing Silco himself thinks of as a secret knowledge he possesses aka his monster ideology.

Lastly to me the eye in a big way represents his trauma. It’s literally a wound/disability that is the result of the traumatic event in question but metaphorically it also shows how ever since the traumatic event he’s never been able to see the world in a normal way again but that from then on the way he perceives the world is always filtered through the lens of his trauma. And that is the eye that never closes. But I also think it’s very fitting to give him the one bad eye but keep the other eye normal. I’d say it’s a fair assessment of Silco to say he lives with one leg in reality and the other in his delulu land.

And that also creates a nice contrast with Jinx whose designed so that her right eye is covered most times but just by her bang which could symbolize that she has blind spots and that her ability to see reality is obstructed but otherwise her both eyes are normal. But then she reaches her final form with the shimmer eyes, and even tho from a distance it now looks like she has got the bad left eye, in reality both her eyes are ‘trauma eyes’ now and she can’t see reality for what it is anymore.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Writing Prompt 2 - First argument

Ford is into his second week in the Perfect World,he and Bill are at town in order to check out the various changes that the triangle did to the place. Although the inhabitants seem to be oppressed under an iron grip while not minding it at all,Ford minds though.

"So how are you liking what i've done to the place,Fordsy?." Bill asks as he floated along his genius while they walked across the streets of Gravity Falls together. "The streets are cleaner,and there's no more wild animals or gnomes pestering the townsfolk. It's perfect,my dear muse." Ford replied while smiling brightly at the triangle,seeming to be quite pleased with everything he has done for him. He then wonders about why there's no one save for a few street cleaners sweeping the walkways,getting a bit suspicious at the lack of activity in what used to be a busy and lively town.

"However,something is bothering me. Where is everyone?,why are there no people besides us and a few street workers here?." Ford asks as the isosceles' eye widens in surprise as he didn't expect for his genius to notice that due to be distracted by how flawless everything is.

"I- Well- I made it a law that they'd stay inside unless i tell them to or whenever they have work,so that those annoying pests won't bother us when we're on dates together in town. They get the penalty of either getting torn limb from limb or social isolation to the point of madness if they don't obey." Bill explains while grinning at the thought of torturing those dumb townsfolk as the man then looks at him in slight disgust over such a tyrannical arrangement,which causes the triangle to glare at him.

"That's.. wrong,Bill. Why would you do that?. I get that you said you'd make some changes to the town in order to make it better for us,but this is a little much. I think that you're going too far with the changes." Ford replied as he starts to distrust his husband from such an act. Bill then turns red with anger after hearing the man's response,glaring at him while roughly gripping his shoulders in order to make something clear to him.

"Look,Ford. I'm in charge here. NO ONE tells me what to do,even if you're my husband. I changed things so that we can live more peacefully and then you're just gonna ignore that because it's 'WRONG?!'." Bill exclaims as he grips the man's shoulders until they audibly crack from the force he put on them,causing Ford to groan in pain as he then glared at the triangle. "I can't live peacefully when i'm watching innocents get oppressed because of your meddling!. You're going too far and you have to fix this otherwise i won't talk to you anymore." Ford remarks as he plans on giving his triangular husband the silent treatment for his tyrannical behavior. "You ungrateful little-." Bill says as he then tackles the man instead of finishing his sentence,summoning his flames as he then punches Ford with his flaming fists as each hit leaves a scalding mark as the man groans in pain every time. The isosceles keeps going at this until Ford gets tired and stops resisting,getting broken and bruised by the end of the attack. After the fight,Bill grabs the man by the forehead and erases his memory of the argument as Ford becomes disoriented from the memory erasing. "You don't need to remember that,Fordsy. That was just a little slip up i had,a fruitless argument really." Bill says as he then lets go of Ford,who then gets up from the ground in confusion soon after the act. "My muse,what were we doing earlier?." Ford asks,a bit puzzled by the fact that he woke up from the street in front of his triangular husband. "Oh we were just looking around the street and admiring how great Gravity Falls is with the new changes i made. Nothing to worry about,IQ." Bill replied as he then floated a bit closer to his genius as he wanted to be near him and also keep up the "dear husband" act. "Ah alright. Well let's go check out the new establishments you put here then." Ford remarks as Bill nodded as the two then walk over to the new Cipher Museum in the corner of the town,with Bill humming happily as he gets to enjoy the day with his genius without any casualties.

[bambiraptorx]

[I.D. A digital drawing of an adolescent version of Draxum from ROTTMNT with his mother, an oc. She holds him in her arms and leans her cheek against the top of his head, and he wraps an arm around her neck. Both of them are smiling and have their eyes closed. Draxum is wearing a short sleeve tunic under a brown himation, and has roughly shoulder length hair and jagged bangs. His legs hang over his mom's arm and his hooves stick out from the hem of his himation, showing lighter patches of fur above his hooves. His mother is a tall plus sized woman with deep blueish grey fur and goat horns growing from the top of her skull. She has several vitiligo-like patches of pale blue fur on her shoulders and the sides of her arms, and a large, roughly triangular patch of light fur on her face that reaches from her jawline to the bridge of her nose. One of her goat-like ears is half of the lighter color, while the other has a small light dot on the bottom edge. She has deep purple hair that reaches her shoulders, and slight facial hair on the sides of her cheek and above her lips. She is wearing a pale brown sleeveless dress. End I.D.]

Since I've finally broken out Draxum's teen design, I thought I might as well draw something with his mom. Would you believe I've never actually drawn her before because I haven't lmao

[rosexhart]

Waiting For Sunset

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Gekko x Reader

• Accidentally running into the agents of Omega Earth, you are taken hostage. Hostages aren’t common for them, but you seem to be the exception. So much for your first time in L.A.

Word Count: 1.4K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The day was already beginning to warm up. I was visiting L.A. to see if I would like the colleges here rather than back home. A lot of them having very interesting programs so it was time to see them in person. I took the trip alone despite the protest of those around me. The whole First Light event made everyone anxious still. It didn’t bother me though.

I walked around three colleges, all of them huge, and all of them way more than I could ever dream of. It was going to be tough picking between them. I sat down outside of a boba shop and sighed out. It was then that I noticed it. One of the places of the radianite explosions occurred. Parts of the building affected, free floating in the air, which meant the crater was also nearby. I decided it might be worth trying to go see it. Even if I got caught I could feign ignorance. I stood up and started towards the building. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, not quite yet providing that golden hue. It was a bit of a maze getting closer to the building. Only able to use it as a landmark to guide myself. Finally I spotted a taco stand, long abandoned, and smiled to myself. What I wasn’t expecting were five people standing in a small grass circle right near by it. I ducked down, hoping to not be noticed. They whispered among themselves. They seemed strange, like they weren’t meant to be here. I stayed hidden as one of them disappeared in a haze of purple smoke right before my eyes. I glanced around looking for them only to have a hand grasp my arm tightly.

A slight yelp escaped me, as they pulled me to a stand and threw me almost effortlessly forward towards the other four.

“A spy,” The voice was low, and toned in a way that unsettled me. Chills racing down my spine.

“I doubt she was sent by them. She doesn’t even seem Radiant.” One said kneeling in front of me. She had long dark black hair that was tied up into a pony tail.

“We can’t risk it regardless.” Another woman with white hair tied up in a short pony tail.

“Agreed. Tie her up, we can deal with her after we detonate the spike.” The long haired woman stated as she stood to her full height.

“Hey, wait! Look I’ll leave I was just trying to see the area.” I argued but the five didn’t seem to care. A woman with red hair pushed you down and held you while a lady with slicked back black and pink hair, zip tied my hands. They sat me back up and took a triangular looking object away with them as they went down a path on the left. Leaving me sitting in the grassy circle they previously occupied.

Gunshots rang out from the direction they went. Some were in more rapid bursts, others slow, calculated and loud. After a while, everything became quiet again. Then the same man who had disappeared into purple smoke came running towards me. A large gun in one hand, the triangular device hanging from their hip. They came over to me. Picking me up roughly. Their shoulder oozing a bit of blood as they did.

“Change of plans. You’re collateral now.” Their voice said and I stumbled forwards towards the right instead of the left like they did before. He pushed at me, making me go forwards as I rounded past a phone box, and up a slight gravel incline.

“Listen, there’s got to be a better way of doing-“ I started but was quickly cut off.

“Quiet.” They said as we rounded a corner by a box. A gun shot rang and the person pulled me flush against their body like a human shield.

“Hold fire!” Someone called out from the crates far in front of us.

“You shoot at me again and I’ll make sure you shoot them instead.” The voice garbled out. There was silence as we continued onto a hard metal surface. The figure shoved me behind a technician box and then took the triangular device and started fiddling with it. I couldn’t just sit here. I swiftly kicked at the device and watched as it spun out their hands. I smirked at my achievement as I heard footsteps behind me. The person disappeared in a haze of purple smoke and I backed up quickly, trying to prop myself up using the box. Gunshots rang out and I held my place behind the box for a minute as the voice I had come to know cried out. Then a rush of footsteps.

“Are you alright?” The same woman with long black hair came from around the box. I backed up.

“Get away from me,” I said moving backwards best I could as a small creature came running at me. It was yellow and tilted its head at me.

“No, no, we are the good guys.” I looked up to see a man with neon green hair, holding a small blue creature with some type of shell on its back. The small yellow creature garbled out something.

“Hey, dude come on. It’s not their fault.” The man said as he picked up the creature.

“Who are you people?” I questioned and the black haired woman took a breath and came closer. Cutting the ties at my wrist with a knife.

“We are Valorant.” She said helping me to stand.

“And you were not suppose to be here.” The same voice from before said coming around the box next to the neon haired man.

“What the hell,” I growled out

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Sage, we should take her back.” The neon green haired man said.

“I agree. She has seen too much.” The woman with the black hair said. I suppose she was Sage.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I started but I didn’t get much of a say as a neon blue haired girl rounded a corner.

“Can we go? I’m tired of just sitting around here.” She stretched out her shoulder.

“We have a situation.” Sage said

“Relájate chica,” The green haired male said to her.

“You relax after having to run through fire to get their Skye out.” The blue haired girl said

“Enough,” The purple smoke person said.

“We are probably confusing her more.” Sage said, helping me to stand.

“Do you want me to handle her?” The smoke person said as he came closer.

“Probably for the best. We will meet you back on the helicopter.” Sage said and the person grabbed my arm roughly just like the other.

“Hey hands off!” I cried out before I felt the world disappear around me. There was a haze of purple smoke, and I felt like I was weightless. As if I was in my dream like I was falling from some great height. When it came to an end we were on a helicopter bigger than I had ever seen. The person sat me down and strapped me down in a chair.

“Get off! I’m not going anywhere this is kidnapping!” I yelled and tried to keep them from continuing. They held my wrist tightly and came close to my face. Three slits of light stared back at me.

“It’s not kidnapping if you were breaking the laws.” They said and my blood cooled. I was strapped in and I suppose they were on some type of locking mechanism because I couldn’t release them. Soon enough the others came aboard. Sage, the neon haired male, the blue haired female, then someone I hadn’t seen yet. Another male with jet black hair, and a blue jacket.

“Yo, Yoru, you got lucky. I was one away from beating you.” The green haired male mentioned to the guy in the blue jacket.

“You can never beat me Gekko. I always am on top.” The male- Yoru, said.

“God you guys are insufferable.” The blue haired female said.

“Where are you taking me?” I questioned and they all looked at me.

“Who the hell is this?” Yoru questioned looking around at all the different people.

“Uh.. I don’t think we ever actually got a name.” The neon haired male said.

“(Y/N),” I stated pulling at the belts again.

“(Y/N), welcome to Valorant.” Sage said before the helicopter took off. They placed a headset on my head but silenced it. They all took turns talking but I couldn’t hear much of anything beyond the drone of the helicopter. I sat back. Realizing there was nothing I could do. So much for those colleges.

[iamyouknow-yours]

Y'all I just got a big comfy plush wedge pillow and it might be my favourite thing

I've got chronic gastritis now but also sleeping with your upper body elevated is good for a number of things, including POTS.

Anyway this thing is so comfy, and I tried out a few others. I haven't tried sleeping in it yet, but I think it'll be nice. I can lie on my side comfortably (with a pillow under my neck and head).

I would maybe prefer it to be lower for actually sleeping but we shall see. This one is a 20° angle but bc it's so big it goes up quite tall. The smaller ones weren't squishy though, they were quite firm :( Also idk if I can afford 2 and I like this one for sitting and for relaxing.

I can sit it up so I can read and work and watch stuff sitting up in bed and it hurts my neck way less than just pillows and headboard.

Lying on my back, I do need a pillow on my chest to rest my arms on so I can hold and see my phone more comfortably.

It was R899, which is roughly $60 I think.

It is a little bit heavy because it's so big and to go from sitting to lying down, you need to turn it round so bear that in mind.

Idk the weight. But it's a 75cm (width) x 30cm (height) x 81cm (length) triangle x 75cm (depth) to make it a triangular prism. Sorry for maths, idk how else to describe the measurements.

And it's made of medium foam with memory foam on top.

[randomwriteronline]

Matau's teeth are small and thin, almost transparent. They are many, so many, so sharp, and though he's grown out of it a long time ago he still sometimes thinks of biting them down on the first hand he can find and sinking them deep and painful until whoever crossed him screams in anguish. The scar on his shoulder is a dotted oval bitten by much larger ones, but unlike the burn mark running along the entirety of his arm he regards it fondly, with a slight blush.

Nokama's teeth are large and triangular, divided in two rows: one attached to her jaw and skull, one held back a little, to propel forward in case she needs to. They seldom stain, and when one breaks it grows back at almost alarming speed; she disguises their molts as findings from the depths of the waters, ashamed of their abnormality. She tends to long closed wounds accidentally pierced by talons with a certain devotion, the same she applies to the kind scratches on her back.

Nuju's fangs peek through his lips only slightly - just enough to accentuate his frown under the right light. He still has little punctures from his time adjusting to their presence, when their sharpness would dig into his mouth by accident at the slightest change of expression. He is grateful the claw marks on his thigh are always hidden under his clothes by default, since such a grace can't be bestowed on the scarred bite on his nose.

Onewa's tusks pull his lip forward in a way that makes him seem judgmental (more than usual, that is). They're large, sharp, taking much more space than the rest of his teeth, and yet for some strange curious coincidence they make his smile wider and less cruel than it could be. His middle is a battlefield of shallowly dug trenches filled in with chalk; he traces them absentmindedly with his calloused fingers at times, mind unreadable, halfway between annoyed and flustered.

Whenua's canines are small, only roughly the length of the rest of his teeth. The hollow triangles of space the create between molars and fronts gives him a strange air, at once innocent and subtly aggressive. Long nails have left thin lines on his nape, ones he's never really seen - stitched by time like the sores on his feet that once dug through the ground and the wounds left by brethren out of themselves, imperfect mirrors of those he bestowed upon them in turn.

Vakama's canines are too long for his liking, upper and lower ones curving to lock together giving him the appearance of some kind of dragon. He's learned to speak through them loud and clear and all but perfect by now, but it was quite the arduous journey. The scars on his chest, far away from his heartlight, tell him to remember himself: it is thanks to those that he can shiver at the memory of rope burns around his biceps as he grazes their afterimages, forever pressed on him.

[datasoong47]

An interesting historical quirk is "The Wedge", a narrow roughly triangular piece of land that is currently located within the state of Delaware. Ownership of that area was disputed between Pennsylvania and Delaware up until 1921 when the two states agreed to it being part of Delaware, though Delaware had been administering it for a long time

It was created as a result of an 18th century agreement between the colonies of Maryland and Pennsylvania (at the time Delaware was administered as part of Pennsylvania) resolving border disputes, establishing a set of definitions for the borders between the three, which was surveyed between 1763 and 1767.

The definition was a bit complicated:

The border between Pennsylvania and Maryland was the line of latitude that was 15 miles south of the southernmost point of Philadelphia at the time, which worked out to 39 degrees 43 minutes north (the original colonial charter had the border at the 40th parallel, but due to poor surveying at the time, Philadelphia was founded a little south of that latitude, which would've placed it within Maryland, this was the eventual compromise)

The Delaware-Pennsylvania border was a circle with a radius of 12 miles centered on the town of New Castle, Delaware, specifically the courthouse there

The southern part of the Delaware-Maryland border was called the Transpeninsular line, a line cutting across the Delmarva penninsula from a particular point on the eastern coast

A line extending from the midpoint of the Transpeninsular line to a tangent with the 12-mile circle (called the Tangent Line)

A line extending due north from the point where the tangent line meets the 12-mile circle to the parallel forming the Pennsylvania-Maryland border (called the North Line)

Any territory west of the North Line but within the 12-mile circle would remain part of Delaware (the portion of the 12-mile circle west of the North Line is known as the Arc Line)

Minus the 12-Mile Circle and the Transpeninsular Line, this was the original Mason-Dixon Line, named after the two men who surveyed it (subsequently extended westward to define the border between Pennsylvania and Virginia (which portion is now West Virginia)

However, it turned out once the lines had been surveyed that that wedge of land was actually outside of all three of the colonies, as shown in this not-to-scale diagram

It clearly did not belong to Maryland, being outside the Mason-Dixon Line. Pennsylvania claimed it on the basis that it was outside of the 12-Mile Circle that defined the border with Pennsylvania, meanwhile Delaware claimed it on the basis that it was south of the line used to define Pennsylvania's southern border

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

52 Pick Up: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: This case involves a misogynistic man that thinks women is God’s gift to men, and you need him to help you solve this case. Meanwhile, Spencer goes through a *minor* crisis about your relationship, but he sees you for the woman you truly are.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"The minute people fall in love, they become liars." - Harlan Ellison

Spencer has been trying to complete the last puzzle in his puzzle book for the past two minutes. His record is just over 2 minutes while it would have taken everyone else much longer. He writes in the last part, and you stop the stopwatch on your phone.

"Record?"

"Two minutes and thirty seconds."

"Damn," he chuckles. "I'll do better next time. I just need a new puzzle book."

"You're cute, you know that?" you chuckle and get up.

"Cute?"

"The cutest."

Since JJ is still out on maternity leave, Jordan Todd is presenting the case. Everyone meets in the briefing room, and as soon as Hotch comes in, Jordan begins the meeting. She puts a picture of a woman on the screen along with a few crime scene photos.

"This is Vanessa Holden, age twenty-five. Last Friday night, she was clubbing with her sister. A white male, roughly her age, picked her up and they left the club at one in the morning. They went back to her place, he forced her on her hands and knees, and he cut her open just below the stomach."

"The gutting causes the intestines to spill out. You can survive for a few hours, actually even days."

"Postmortem indicates that he slit her throat at five in the morning."

"So, he disemboweled her but didn't kill her for four hours? He could be a sexual sadist," you say.

"Yeah, I thought so, too, but I found two priors from a year ago--prostitutes in motel rooms."

"Okay. Keep running with it. Why do you think this is the same unsub?" Derek asks, and everyone looks at Jordan.

"In Vanessa Holden's apartment, the following was discovered: bleach, ammonia, and trash bags in a triangular pattern. Exactly a year ago, the same thing was discovered in motel rooms."

"It means he's cleaning up. He might be trying to hide his tracks. It could be a sign of remorse."

"But there's one other commonality between both sets of murders. Bleach and ammonia were found under the victim's fingernails."

"He's making them clean up their own murder," Hoch realizes. "It's the same unsub. Wheels up in twenty."

This is the kind of case you can't dwell on, so everyone meets at the plane in ten minutes.

"So, if the unsub changed the victimology, does that make him organized or disorganized?" Emily starts off the discussion.

"Well, the prostitutes point one way, the club goes another."

"The triangular arrangement of the cleaning supplies is interesting," Spencer says with the photos in his hands. "It could be obsessive-compulsive, so he could have been institutionalized."

"We're missing something here," Rossi says. "This guy started with prostitutes, took a year off, came back, and killed a socialite with no forced entry or coercion of any kind. So, how does our unsub go from the loser of the year to Don Juan?"

"Actually, as Byron interpreted him, Don Juan was an ironic reversal of sex roles. And when--" As Spencer is talking, you smile subconsciously at his rambling. However, Hotch isn't feeling the same way. Spencer sees the look he's giving him, and he immediately shuts up. "Th--that's about it."

"Something must have happened between the last prostitute and Vanessa Holden making him change his victimology."

"Could the unsub have known Vanessa?" Jordan asks.

"It's unlikely. Sexual sadists attack anonymously. They have to sever a personal connection and see their victims as objects to perpetrate this level of torture."

"We have to build two profiles. One for the unsub who killed prostitutes, and one for the unsub who goes to clubs."

"We've never done that before."

"Prentiss is right," Hotch says. "The victimology is so different that we'll treat them as separate unsubs and see what overlaps. Reid, work up a geographic profile and focus on the location of the murders. Prentiss and Rossi, concentrate on the prostitutes. Jordan, Morgan, Y/N, and I will go deal with Vanessa Holden."

As soon as the plane landed, you headed off with Jordan, Derek, Spencer, and Hotch over to the police station. Detective Rachel Harding is already expecting you, so when you walk in, she immediately greets you.

"Detective Harding? I'm agent Jordan Todd," Jordan introduces herself and the team.

"Thank you for coming."

"Hey, is there a DNA match between the unsub and the prostitutes? We could run through ViCAP just in case."

"There's no DNA at all. No prints or fibers. Just like with Vanessa, everything gets cleaned up. It's a pretty effective forensic countermeasure."

"What about witnesses? Somebody must have seen something."

"Oh, yeah, lots of people."

"So, do you have a sketch?"

"Of sorts." Rachel hands over the sketch that a toddler can draw. It's not very detailed. "It's a little vague, but that's because of his countermeasure. Take a look." She plays video footage of the club. There are a lot of people, but she points out the killer that approaches two women. He's dressed in a coat and a fedora, but that's all you can see. "This guy right here is our killer."

"So, he's drawing attention to his face while simultaneously obscuring it. That's called peacocking which is the adornment of some sort of flashy effect to try to distract witnesses."

"So, none of your witness statements agree?"

"I have everything between he did or didn't have a mole to he did or didn't have a gap between his teeth."

"Detective, we're gonna have to have a sit-down with Ashley Holden. She got the best look at the unsub."

"I wish I could make that happen, but unfortunately, the family has decided to stop cooperating."

"Why is that?" Hotch asks.

"They won't say. Yesterday, the mother would move Heaven and Earth to help find her daughter's killer. Today, no, thanks."

"I'll take care of this," Jordan says.

She walks off to make some calls, and only until she is ready, do you head over there with her, Derek, and Hotch. Vanessa's mother lets you in the door, but she isn't too happy about you being there.

"Good afternoon. I'm sorry you came all the way out here. It's a waste of time. Ashley knows absolutely nothing, and we want to get this behind us as soon as possible."

"Mrs. Holden, we can't begin to fathom the loss you've suffered."

"That's right. You can't," she cuts Jordan off.

"But, I lost my older sister in a car crash, and it was really hard on our family because she was the responsible one. She was the one that my mother always counted on to watch over us. When she died, my mother wouldn't let the police in. If she didn't let them in, then my sister wasn't really dead. This man is a monster, and we can catch him, but we need your daughter's help."

You're a bit confused here because you know Jordan is lying. You don't know anything about her or her family situation, but some part of that story is a lie. Why did she lie? Just to get a foot in the door? You look over at Hotch to see the same look of confusion on his face. He must have thought the same thing, but in his case, he's pissed about it.

JJ would have never lied to get something she wanted.

"If you accuse her of anything, I will be on the phone so fast--"

"Ma'am," Derek cuts her off, "we won't."

"Alright," she sighs. "Follow me."

Only she and Jordan go off to Vanessa's younger sister to talk to her. You stay behind with Derek and Hotch.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" Derek asks.

"No, and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

Yikes. Hotch is pissed, and if it relates to the job, it's going to take Jordan a lot to try and make up for it. You three head deeper into the house to see Ashley, her mother, and Jordan sitting together on the couch.

"Vanessa's boyfriend just broke up with her, so I took her out to have a good time."

"There's nothing wrong with that," you say gently.

"Were you approached by anyone?"

"A lot of guys."

"Can you describe any of them for us?"

"Pretty ordinary. Look, Vanessa wasn't even in the mood," she sighs.

"If she wasn't in the mood or if she left with this guy, then there must have been something about him, something unique, right? We saw a picture of him on surveillance, and we know that he was dressed like a rocker. What was the first thing you noticed about him?"

"His attitude."

"What about it? Cocky? Confident? Or did he play it more the broody type?" Derek asks.

"It was like he was hitting on us, but he was, like, making a joke out of it at the same time. Even his eyes were different colors."

"So, this guy wanted to be noticed?"

"Well, yeah, that's why you go to a club, right? Then he had these games. Like, he would bet us drinks that we couldn't get his number. She didn't even want to go out that night. I had to drag her to the club. The last thing she said to me before I left her alone with that guy was, 'I had the best time tonight.' The best time."

Ashley starts crying, and that's when her mother shuts the interview down. Ashley blames herself for leaving her sister alone with that man, and you can't help but take her grief as your own. You'd feel so guilty if you were in her situation, and nothing would make you feel better because your sister isn't here and you are.

As soon as you leave her house, Hotch is on Jordan's ass for the lie she told to get herself in the door.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister, where did you get that?"

"Some of it was online, and some of it was just an educated guess based on birth order."

"You guessed, and in the process, you lied."

"That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

"I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?"

Jordan may be very good at her job, but she isn't cut out for this kind of work. She won't last long, you can already tell.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, but you also represent this team to the press, the police, and the families who are struggling with some of the hardest times of their lives. If you get caught in a lie, the trust we depend on to help solve these crimes disappears. Do I make myself clear?"

"It won't happen again."

"No, it won't. When we get back, I want you to prepare a press release about the unsub. Do not release it. From now on, everything goes through me."

His phone rings, and he steps off to the side to answer the call. Jordan turns to face you and Derek, and you keep your mouth shut as you get into the back seat.

"So, how badly did I just screw up?" she sighs.

"On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six. On Hotch's scale? An eleven."

Everyone meets at the police station to discuss what to do next. You have the unsub and you know where he was and his tactics. The only thing you need to figure out is where he learned them. It sounds like a douche-y move, but men learn how to be douches from other men. If there is a class going on somewhere, you need to know about it.

"The unsub killed the prostitutes in separate pay-by-the-hour motels in Fulton County in one of the poorer neighborhoods. Now, Vanessa's apartment was in the Peachtree district where there's a lot of big money. Based on the geography, he isn't just changing his victimology, he's changed his whole tax bracket."

"The high profile of Vanessa bears that out. By killing her, he was climbing the social ladder."

"If that's the case, this unsub had a long way to climb," Rossi says as he's reading the local newspaper. "Both prostitutes advertised here. Look at their pictures. Subservient positioning and asking to be dominated."

Both prostitutes are on their knees with their hands behind their backs and looking up at the camera.

"Them promising to come to you? That cuts out the social interaction of meeting on a street corner. That's a long way from a self-assured unsub who hits the clubs."

"Except he took a year off between the murders. Maybe he took that time to change himself."

"That's impossible," Derek shakes his head.

"Why?"

"Well, I mean, you're talking about a total transformation here. How you talk, how you dress, and how you think about yourself."

"It's difficult, sure, but not impossible," you state.

"He already started killing. There must have been a secondary trigger that motivated him to change who he was. So, if you're gonna transform yourself, how would you do it?"

"A steady diet of self-help books. Start hitting the gym?" Emily says.

"You have to learn how to read people. I mean, what is a pick-up? It's basically just a profile. Decoding cues of interest and re-coding similar ones. If you're too obvious, you turn off your target. If you're oblivious, your target moves on to a better profiler."

"That doesn't sound like something he could do on his own."

"No, he'd have to go somewhere to learn it. I like to call it Douche 101. Instead of being yourself, they try everything to turn off a woman, but it only works on the oblivious ones," you say. Everyone stares at you, and you shrug. "What, I'd laugh in a guy's face if he did that to me."

"Uh, wait a minute," Derek says. "Come on, this is an unsub who kills prostitutes. Is he really thinking about signing up for a Tony Robbins seminar?"

"He would if he found a class in the same place he found the prostitutes."

Rossi shows everyone an ad in the newspaper that reads: LEARN HOW TO PICK UP CHICKS. Let's face it. We all want to have sex. But women are a mystery. Take my class and learn how to unlock desire.

"Like I said, Douche 101."

"Then you're up," Hotch says.

"What? Emily is here."

"No, don't put this on me."

"Come on, it can't be that bad, right?" Hotch chuckles.

"You know, it's always worse whenever people say that."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[owlbear33]

not to go back to the old hobby horse of miniature scales, but in the webcomic I'm (re)reading (Schlock Mercenary - it's very good) there's a scene where our main characters ship, the Serial Peacemaker, a 100m long Ob'enn dropship, faces up against the Tunguska, a Tricorn class Battleplate - a roughly triangular ship 1km thick, the triangles sides 8km long

and I'm not sure how you would represent that in miniature form

a lot of starship miniatures are in roughly 1/3000 scale,

which would render the Serial Peacemaker, 3.3cm long, perfectly reasonable for tabletop gaming

and the Tunguska, 33cm thick, and 2.7m a side, hmm that could cause some problems

it's this sort of thing that led both SW: Armada and SW: X-Wing to have such flexible scales (Armada ranging between 1/557 and 1/30547, and X-Wing between 1/172 and 1/456)

utterly ridiculous

[sorenblr]

thoughts on Akihiko Yoshida? hes done several greatest game of all time contenders but I still don't know how 2 feel about him tbh

I would rank him highly, although I do think his best work belongs to a bygone era. I've always had a lot of affection for Yoshida as the Square-affiliated artist most likely to describe form with profuse hatching. The original Tactics Ogre cover is one of my favorite pieces of game art:

I think he produced his most compelling work around this period, in collaboration with Hiroshi Minagawa, and more generally prior to the onset of HD development. I don't know how deeply involved he was with the process (Minagawa is credited as supervisor in both cases), but between Vagrant Story and Final Fantasy XII, his designs have been treated to the most compelling applications of texture mapping in the medium.

I also love the lush storybook style he adopted for Four Heroes of Light, and I wish that quality had carried more cleanly into Bravely Default.

His contributions to FFXIV are obviously accomplished but they don't really stand out in my mind due to their proximity to so many other artists on that project working in a style that roughly approximates his own. I think that's something that has muddled my impression of his work over the past decade, the glut of designers seemingly trained in his style, or the new prominence of those who simply came up in the industry working in a comparable idiom, usually in the Ivalice games. The deliberately abstracted faces contrasted with baroque or luxuriously rendered dress, the almost exclusive use of earth tones etc. It's evident everywhere from certain of Kazuya Takahashi's key art in FFXVI to Naoki Ikushima's entire corpus of Yoshida-lite emulations, even Hideo Minaba's work on Granblue Fantasy.

At one point this was a perfect triangular complement to the sectors defined by Amano and Nomura, but as we recede further and further from any remaining stylistic imprint of the former and all the appealing extravagance is bled from the latter, a sort of repetitious sameness sets in. It's no fault of Yoshida's, and I think his own work still consistently outshines his "imitators", but it probably accounts for my cooler feelings of late.

As an aside, the guy has definitely indulged his predilections to a greater degree as time goes on. He's settled on an anatomical template for his female characters that I find vaguely disquieting, as evinced in this Tomb Raider illustration. That one has especially chitinous proportions, but most of it is basically just, like... hippy zettai ryoiki shit. A fetish so mild that it's one step removed from being really 'into' big titties. Guys with active accounts across multiple booru image boards will be cranking their shit to 2B for long and silent aeons, when even the memory of man is only a shadow over the wine-dark sea.

I would still like another game where he's allowed a fuller reign over design responsibilities. Like Nomura, he's reached a position of seniority that precludes him from designing anything beyond a few core characters and some key art, leaving the heft of the work to younger artists or middle-talents like Roberto Ferrari. Hopefully he'll be on tap for something other than Nier Automota phone games or FFXIV package illustrations or whatever the fuck Little Noah: Scion of Paradise is supposed to be. Damn, videogames are rough! This shit is not cooking!