#'fuck' is a tertiary predator

[cgtg]

writing karkat dialog no.1 experiance is stepping back & allowing ur eyes 2 hone in on every variation of the word "fuck". ensuring they have enough space in distribution to live comfortably & support the kk vocab's delicate ecosystem. knocking them out w tranquilizers n putting trackers on their skinny ankles b4 tossing them back into the sea of made up troll slang and other such expletive-coded fuckig nonsense

#its so easy 2 accidentally make him say da fuck word 2 many timez #theyre like a keystone species & if theres too many of them it fucks up the whole thing #'fuck' is a tertiary predator

[bedlamsbard]

went on a long twitter thread earlier today (which I won’t repeat here) about the thin line between “being self-indulgent” and “this is actually hurting the fic,” and while most of that was about brutally trimming back potential subplots, there are a few cases where my judgment on “this is fine and normal” and “this is too self-indulgent” is just totally fucked.  I will ALWAYS feel guilty about putting a ship in a fic.  Always.  It’s why I’ll usually only explicitly put a ship that’s only hinted at in a first story into the sequel (which has always come back to bite me).  I’m the only writer I know who actively loses readers when I write shipfic.

(BTW, this actually predates Wake/Gambit; it’s the reason there’s not Obi-Wan/Padme in Wake, which is the number one thing I would change if there was any force on this earth that could compel me to touch Wake again.)  (There’s not.)  (Also it would change Gambit too drastically so I couldn’t rewrite it anyway, but it’s my major regret about Wake and has been for years.)

I went through a lot of soul-searching over whether to explicitly include Steve/Nat in Horizon (I do regret not including it in Yonder) and 140K in I’m still not sure I made the right choice.  Could I have kept them just as friends?  Sure.  I don’t know how much it would change the plot or any of the emotional relationships in the story because I didn’t write it that way.  Probably not all that much.

Shipfic is not exactly rare in fandom (I’ll grant you that plotty shipfic where the ship is secondary or tertiary to other plots is much rarer, though I’ve read my fair share in the past) and I’ve been in fandom for over two decades, so I have no idea when in my fannish background this got imprinted on me.  It is one of the things that predates my Wake/Gambit issues, so there’s that.  I have certainly gotten my fair share of “I dislike [main ship] so I just skip those scenes but I really like the rest of the fic and it works fine without the ship being there” comments over the years -- these are distinct from the normal “I hate this ship” Gambit comments.  Backbone gets -- actually I don’t get comments on Backbone anymore, so this is a past tense -- Backbone got a fair number of them.  Gambit got, like, so many of them.  Horizon has them about the chaos trio but not Steve/Nat.  (Yonder gets some confused “...is there...a ship...here...?” which is fair and to be honest was the point.)

*shrugs*  I don’t know, it’s something I struggle with a lot -- I obviously have ships and I enjoy writing them, but I always have this sneaking suspicion that I’m doing it just for me and not because it serves the story.  Maybe I have just gotten too many “I skipped all the ship scenes because they’re not necessary to the story” comments over the years.

#literally I don't know how you read backbone and think kanan/hera isn't important to the story #but to be fair I once got a comment on backbone saying that they only read the crucible flashbacks and thought the story was too dark #I don't really think of the chaos trio in horizon as a ship because...it's not #(loki likes steve and natasha both as individuals but is only really interested in sleeping with them as a pair) #your girl #adventures in accountability #just some thinking out loud

[chaoticlimes-sys]

!!Temporary pinned!!

Hi welcome to our page!

We are the Chaoticlimes system

The host is Denny, Me (Pepper) and Spamton are co hosts, I am helping Denny with making this pinned post

We are a system of 16, we are a DID system (yes we have DID)

We are intersex and we collectively are systemfluid, genderqueer, daisy gay, abrosys and polyamsys and our collective pronouns are He/they/it, our collective name is Limez

»»————-　♡　————-««

Members and pronouns

Denny - They/it/xe/ne/bun (He/him accepted) (Xe/xim, xe/xem, ne/nym, ne/nem)

Pepper - They/it (she/her accepted if only referring to Pepper)

Luca - It/zem (They/them accepted)

Rick - He/him

Yosh - He/him or name

Tash - Void/he/it

Stocks - He/xim

Spamton G. Spamton - He/it/them/nya

Jevil - He/they/it

Mia - they/it/nya/meow

Minmin - They/it

Nacho - He/it/they/ze

May - They/them

Zwapz - He/they

Razch - They/it/vamp

Razz - He/it

»»————-　♡　————-««

We are extremely tired of system discourse, queer discourse, neurodiverse discourse and disability discourse

We (especially Denny and Yosh) are not afraid of fighting back or biting scumbags

If you’re here to start fights or discourses over small things like flags, identity, gender, orientation, mental health, systems/plurality, personas, oc’s (especially Mary/Gary stues), disabilities and/or neurodivergency please fuck off, we do not have time or spoons for you - Denny

»»————-　♡　————-««

Not sure what you're looking for

»»————-　♡　————-««

BYF

We post content involving clowns, horror, body positivity, feminism, LGBTQIA2S+, MOGAI, anarchy, furbies, animatronics, furry, body horror, food, Pokemon, My Little Pony, space related stuff, frogs, autism acceptance, neurodivergent acceptance and anti ableism

Art that we post usually have this content

Horror, clowns, body horror, horror, gore, My Little Pony, Pokemon, animatronics, robots, demons, angels, anthros, ferals, humans, humanoids, aliens, monsters, certain kinks, nudity, violence, vent art, self ship, self insert, body positivity, trans bodies, queer couples, fat bodies, chubby bodies, anarchy, feminism and characters from media (Take Undertale and Super Mario Bros as some examples)

»»————-　♡　————-««

WE ABSOLUTELY DO NOT ACCEPT THIS

Ableism, demonisation of cluster b disorders, fatmisia/fat phobia, queermisia (queerphobia), flag or sexual/romantic/tertiary orientation discourse, flag discourse, exorsexism (anti enby), intersexism (anti intersex), anti xenogender, anti neogender, demonisation or stigmatisation of mental illnesses psychosis or disabilities, general nastiness, catcalling, think it is okay to harass minors or anyone in general, harassing our alters or us in general, harassing individuals for their hobbies (geek, furry etc.), general nasty people, people who send unsolicited gore (fictional AND/OR IRL) to people to trigger people

DNI

General DNI criteria, if you stigmatize or demonise cluster B disorders (This includes using narcissistic and/or narcissist as insults), if you stigmatise or demonise mental illness disabilities and psychosis, if you believe or do eugenics, BMI scale, Anti-recovery, act like assholes towards individuals struggling with addiction, Sysmed, Proana, Promia, Fatmisic, Ableist, Kodocon (loli/shotacon/both), Proship/Neuship/Comship, Anti-anti, Pro/neu/com contact (you’re a predator), Overall nasty people, Pro-fetus, Pro-birth, Pro-life, TERF/SWERF/TIRF/TEHM, Radfem, syscourse/flagcourse (People are literally fucking dying out here Susan), exclusionists or neutral on exclusionism, exorsexist, intersexist, anti cringe, support/promote or even neutral on Autism Speaks and ABA

Scott Cawthon endorser, JKR endorser, Emily Gwen endorser

Think mspec sapphics can't: use butch/femme, reclaim the d-slur, use the ⚢ symbol, call themselves lesbians

Think that fiction can't or doesn’t affect reality (It indeed can)

Teeth divider by @mmadeinheavenn

#temporary pinned #about #dni #byf #byf/dni #system #plural #queer system #autistic system #did system #neurodivergent system #traumagenic system #traumagenic

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Yeah, I always ask because I have a huge breeding kink, and I understand a lot of people aren't comfortable with that haha! Ah But I would love to hear your thoughts on an abo Opress brothers?

Okay, anon. Here’s the thing. I will try anything once. So hit me with a rec in my ask and I will read it quietly and without comment so I can at least try and get a sense of what that’s about (instead of immediately ruling a thing out; I’d prefer not to do that.) But for real: give me your best SW breeding kink fic. The fucking pinnacle. Okay? Okay.

Let’s talk about knots in the meantime. Or mates. Or soulmates? Because ABO has a physical component as well as an emotional one, and it’s inevitable that while a connection is often physical and based on the superiority of two individuals’ genetic makeups coming together to facilitate the progression of their species through an alpha and an omega bumping uglies repeatedly and aggressively while in the midst of an uncontrolled (but hopefully confined) heat, sometimes things get messy.

(We never talk about betas do we? Betas really get the shit end of the stick.)

Maul: Will tear out the wall to get to his omega. He will break down bricks if he scents their heat. He will pulverize anything in between him and them that gets in his way so help him. Obviously, Maul is a good case for an alpha. Give credence to Sidious for sorting this one out, but he picked out Maul’s potential when he was just a child — the creme de la creme; the best of Talzin’s stock. Shitty, isn’t it, to know that someone is so perfect, so young? In an ABOverse world, it figures Sidious would see him as “perfect breeding stock.” Ass. Maul, however, is of a second mind when his instincts take over — one that is all intrinsic, all animal, all predatory, all protective, all consuming. And if you, little omega, are on the receiving end of his attention? You’re in for a days’ long marathon of his attentions and trust me when I say he is territorial. Anyone who so much as sniffs at the room you’re in is going to get pulled apart. You, though? You’re fine, so long as you’re receptive to it (and you know you are, because that’s instinct walling over any rational objections to someone of his force and fortitude.) Maul is hungry for exactly one thing, and you’re the only one that can sate him. You’re the only thing that can put a stop to his rage. Do I really need to tell you how this goes? Spread your legs. Hold on tight. You’re in for the ride of your life.

Savage: This is not a knot you can walk away from. Look, sorry, you’re done. When the heat happens, there’s always the urge to run (maybe we’ve talked about Savage’s primal instincts before? How he prefers the chase? He likes it when you run? Let’s chat about that later, because the take down is half the fun for him, I promise. Just… maybe don’t let him win.) When Savage knots you, you’re not going anywhere. It’s a destination game where you end up spurting cum because there’s so much of it and it hits you with such force that not even the physical boundaries of his and yours can keep it in. One thing he’s spectacular at, however, is ensuring that every drop gets tucked back in where it’s supposed to be — carefully. With precision. He doesn’t waste a drop, even if you’re brimming with it. And that low, sensual chuckle if he misses a drop gets popped into your mouth just for fun. Just to mark you up a bit so that when he’s done, there’s no doubt and no question about how good you’ve been, propped up on that enormous cock for so long. (It’s hours if you’re lucky. But don’t schedule anything anything the week of his heat.)

Feral: I’ve saved him for last, which is a rarity because I like to lead with him often. He’s frequently the strongest contender amongst the brothers in my mind, and the reason I’ve giving him the last seat this time is because of his namesake. It’s lovely. It’s ferocious. It’s unbridled and uncontested and unbound by any rules and suggests government entirely by such base instincts that only the predator in him can decide — what is will and what is right. When we’re talking ABO dynamics in particular, Feral is as his namesake: he knows no rules and shows no quarter and clothes are fucking stupid why are you still wearing them? Doesn’t matter. In seconds they’re in shreds and you’re on your back and his teeth are on your neck and that nonverbal demand is ever-present: yield to him. With Feral there is a component that is more than flesh and feeling; more than the base instincts that turn an omega’s scent appealing. He has waited for you, playing the last chair in a line of brothers superior to him in so many ways for such a long time. But you were never a tertiary choice: he was only patient. He waited his turn. And he chose right. So do what’s right: present your neck. Yield to him. He deserves it.

#abo #Savage Opress #Darth Maul #Feral Opress #Darth Maul x Reader #Darth Maul x You #Savage Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x You #Feral Opress x Reader #Feral Opress x You #dat ask #the night market of dathomir

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus sees Connor as a pure cinnamon roll, a puppy, sweet baby who can't even curse, until he goes to the station to see him at work and sees Connor interrogate someone...

He'd just wanted to ID this human PERP that had tried to come and make a ruckus at New Jericho, give his deposition to his boyfriend, kiss said boyfriend afterward, and leave.

He had not signed up for being exposed like this.

Markus was allowed through the security to come and have his statement taken, he'd be able to greet Connor, do the law-abiding citizen shtick and that would be his highlight of the day.

What he's greeted with was several cops trying and failing to take down a mountain of a man that one scan later, lets Markus know is extremely intoxicated on Red Ice and is belligerent and not complying in the least because of it.

He was going through the cops like rag dolls; the tasers weren't stopping his rampage at the time.

Markus has a feeling this is going to become a deadly force situation simply because what other is choosing to do when a literal blur flips the man around by one of his arms and onto the ground as if he weighs next to nothing, sending him crashing hard to the ground, face down.

A familiar figure sits crouched on top of the completely immobilized human. Markus takes in the overall destruction the man had caused counting the broken looking coworkers and Connor wasn't having it.

Markus was looking respectively at this Connor that slaps the handcuffs onto the man a bit harder than he needed to as and hefted him up from the floor like little more than a weighted bag of trash and bodily moves his ass out of the bullpen.

He'd made what six previous cops struggled with a look so easy.

Markus stands there in a daze because, yes, Connor in action has always been impressive.

Connor high-key throwing around 400 lbs. human male like he weighed nothing, right in front of Markus-well, he needed to give that some serious thoughts as to why it made him feel the feelings.

Markus minutely shudders, lost in the whole train of thought when Connor saddles up to his side.

Sweet, calm, doe-eyed Connor and his shy smiles.

Markus does his deposition, and they leave for the day together, afterward.

About a week later, Markus surprises Connor on his resting break instead of lunch break, since they don't eat.

Hank Anderson tells Markus that Connor's finishing up an interrogation and since it was an anti-android affair, Markus has the clearance to be present. This is wonderful since Markus gets to see Connor in his element again.

The thought of that red ice user being yeeted came to mind and Markus had to tamp that down. Inappropriate for right now. Now he got to see how his sweet, lovely-

"I know you fucking did it. You should just save us all the wank time and confess. You are aware I am an Android. I can read your bullshit a mile in your vitals, trash."

-Sailor mouth, gutter baby?

The whiplash was real, the sentiments almost palpable, invoking improper thoughts in him right now.

Markus can only stare in fucking want, deliberately smoothing jittery hands down his covered thighs as Connor alternates from reclining in his seat, arm back around the chair in a devil may care attitude, twirling a pair of cuffs around one long finger in smooth succession to moving up, hunched over the table, fingers meshed into each other, wearing the most intense face he's seen since he wandered into the old captain's quarters with his gun for him.

He swallows down extreme want his confusion as he sees Connor moving inches from the human's face who looks uncertain, as he should be, in the face of a perfect predator.

Could he be the bad guy across the table from Connor right now, please?

Markus is sweating, and he was breathing harder now to exorcise hot air from his body.

His tertiary system had kicked on because he'd rapidly heated up.

This definitely had nothing to do with one badass twink cop, probably, and yes, they were going to act like this was some sort of malfunction because this was really awkward and really inappropriate for now.

Now, Markus could see where that 60 model in Connor's memory had got all that assholeness and peak twink potential from before they had put it down: Connor was always the damned blueprint.

The rest of the interrogation go off without a hitch and Connor gets his confession.

Markus is having a m e l t d o w n even as Connor is bouncing up to him in cheerful energy at his successful mission.

It's all Markus can do to tell everyone with a non-shaky smile that they are leaving for the day, yes now.

Somehow that little smile that Connor gives back in return for his flustered behavior makes markus know that was a show, as much for Connor's benefit as it was Markus' too.

Markus would just have to show him what he thought about his 'good cop/bad cop' routine somewhere private.

#rk1k #rk1000 #conkus #ask #anonymous #dbh #detroit: become human #🌸ask post #definitely some elements from our discord lol #give me that spicy Connor pls

[rayfollowsfromhere]

In Pursuit of a Beeping Noise

First posted on my Patreon. You can read more of my short stories at https://www.patreon.com/RachelMarieWriting

-.-.-

…beep…beep...beep...

What in the hell?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hospital?

Her eyes fluttered open. There was a hazy red glow.

Not a hospital.

...beep…beep…beep…

Telestra sat up. Her hand pressed against cold metal as she shoved herself into the upright position. Her back ached from the solid surface below. Her damn butt was numb.

Definitely not a hospital.

The red glow appeared to be the only source of light because she couldn't see a damn thing either.

Where the hell was she?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

And what the hell was beeping!

She pushed down against the floor to haul herself onto her feet. Telestra considered herself many things, tall was not one of them. When she stood up straight her head immediately collided with something.

Something that made a metallic 'tink!' when it came in contact with her forehead. She immediately reeled back.

"What in the ever loving fuck!"

Because low light wasn't enough of an obstacle…

Telestra put her hands out, miming herself into some situational awareness. Her head ached. Her body ached.

…beep…beep…beep…

And there was beeping.

The day was officially on her top twenty. It hadn't beat her twelfth birthday yet though, so there was still a chance at recovery.

Her fingers ran down one wall that arched downward into a console. Her knee collided with the edge of it a moment later.

She'd take it.

Running her hand along the surface, Telestra could make out buttons. Analog. They were raised above and making cheerful 'clack-clack' noises as her hand compressed them down. One was significantly larger than the rest.

Her twelve years of primary school and six years of additional training told her that was significant.

"You either turn something on. Or you launch something." She was hoping for on.

Screens behind her came to life as soon as she pushed it.

On.

Yay!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Shut up! I hear you!"

…beep…beep…beep…

Telestra moved to the screens. There were more consoles, more buttons. More distressingly… there were screensavers.

Anatomically impossible screensavers.

"Fucking disgusting..." Telestra growled as she looked over the buttons - searching for familiar characters.

Lines. Just. Lines.

Not even raised lines.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No dots. Couldn't be morse code.

"Couldn't use even a single number, had to be difficult."

Telestra did what her six years of training told her to do. She whacked the console. A couple times.

The screensaver blinked out.

An overhead light buzzed on.

Progress. Sorta.

…beep...beep…beep...

"I will kill you." Telestra narrowed her eyes. "As soon as I find you."

The light illuminated the room - what appeared to be a spherically shaped box. Made of metal. With tiny consoles around the two long walls. There was a door with a pressured lock on both ends of the room.

The red glow was coming from a bulb that jutted out of the wall above the one to her left. Upon close inspection - a quick shuffle towards the door - Telestra was able to determine the beep was not coming from that region.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Boy howdy, if you don't shut up…"

It was coming from a screen. It wasn't lit up like the others - no blue screen or horrible screensaver. She knelt down in front of it.

...beep...beep…beep…

"I heard you!"

The screen was horizontally inlayed into a console. Not quite flat. Spherical. She looked underneath. Panel.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Telestra yanked open the panel. It didn't require that much effort. She fell backwards as it came loose in her hands. She caught herself before she hit the floor.

…beep…beep…beep…

"...bastard."

Wires. And more wires. All of them black. Most of them taped in one section or another. It really inspired confidence in whoever had last touched it. Electrocution: Party of One!

She shoved her hands in, fiddling and twiddling until the damned screen lit up green. It was a dark green. But color was color and Telestra didn't much care.

There were markings on the glass and a bright line spinning around inside. Dots all around the center point lit up as it came around.

Well, her studies hadn't covered this, but her last binge watch did.

"Am I in a fucking ship?!”

Should have taken swim lessons!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeps did not match up with the dots or the light. Great. Telestra sat down. The metal floor wasn't quite flat and she fell backwards a bit. Arms flailing as she caught herself on the minuscule slope.

Spherical box. A tube.

…beep…beep…beep...

Submarine.

Why did Grena let her watch Shark Week? She couldn't swim. She'd never even seen a pool!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I am calm!" Telestra snapped. She crossed her arms.

Grena would know what to do. Grena would know where the beeping was coming from. Grena would know what it meant. Grena probably even knew what the dots stood for!

…beep…beep…beep…

"Fuck Grena."

Telestra got up, kneeling back over the wires that now protruded from the opened panel. She looked down at her hand.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She bit the tip of her smallest finger, slicing through the synthetic skin with her teeth until she got resistance. She spit the scrap of skin out and wiggled her finger. Aluminum and zinc plating.

...beep...beep…beep…

For once, buying the cheap shit for her external wasn't biting her in the ass.

She stripped off the tape from a wire at random. With a deep breath, Telestra pressed her little finger against the exposed wiring. She felt a jolt. It was live.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Nothing exploded. Telestra counted that in the win column and stripped another piece of tape from a wire. She repeated the process. Another jolt. Also live.

It was another four wires before she got anything more than electric shock as feedback. And it was a damn screensaver.

…beep…beep…beep…

"Well screw you too!"

Another wire down. Nothing. Another. Shock. And another. Screensaver.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I know you're doing this on purpose!"

…beep…beep…beep…

Another wire. Another…oh.

Code scrolled on for an obscene amount of time. Telestra didn't bother trying to read it. Her tertiary processor was already parsing the code for useful bits.

It was the home screen she found herself puzzling over. Primary processor, secondary processor, and her frontal lobe.

"What in the hell is a Windows?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Very helpful."

Some searching - and three failed minesweeper games - revealed to Telestra that she was dealing with an operating system. Great. Might as well hand her a rotary phone!

Not that she knew what that was. It was the name of a stock photo she'd opened in paint. The analogy still stood, of course, just with the bulk of it flying over Telestra's head.

What else was new?

Operating systems predated AIs and Telestra had spent all of two weeks in sixth form pretending to listen to what those were.

"Little help?"

…beep…beep…beep…

"I thought not."

Telestra dove deeper, finding all sorts of useless applications she couldn't make heads or tails of. Eventually, her tertiary processor took pity and spat out some administrative passwords that accessed the base code.

Hooking into that at least made her search quicker.

"Global satellite positioning system?"

…

"No."

…

"Sonar diagnostic program?"

…

"No."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Airlock pressurization sequence start up it is!"

She activated the program. It had the most interesting file type - .exe. Telestra had never heard of it.

…beep…beep.

"Success!"

The overhead light went out.

"Too soon?" Telestra unhooked from the wire. She stood up just in time for the sub to jostle her straight into the console opposite.

Story of her life.

She double over after colliding with the blunt edge. Her spleen was none too happy with her. And her temperature modulator reported a dent.

"Fucking hell."

Telestra glared at the ceiling, for lack of a better target. The red light above the one pressure seal went off. Another light appeared on the opposite side. She turned her head just in time for the green light to flicker.

Grena had told her to invest in a night vision upgrade. Telestra had bought an extended streaming package for her memory drive. Example #3479 of why Telestra should just fucking do what Grena fucking says.

Over her dead body.

A squeak and a hiss later and her spherical hell was illuminated in light. Most of it directly into her eye.

This day…

"Identify yourself?" A voice called out - deep and rhythmic. Telestra winced.

"Telestra Zeta," her voice modulator whirred. It was harsh and rattling. The owner of the well-maintained modulator did not respond.

Great. Just what she needed. A classist.

"Who are you?" Telestra yelled out, still squinting into the light, "And could you maybe turn that down a little! It's worse than the damn beeping!"

If they thought not responding would keep her from speaking, well, they obviously hadn't spent much time outside the databanks.

The light dimmed. She blinked. There were three figures - short, stocky, and all wearing the same ugly brown jumpsuit. Telestra's cheep rubberized skin looked better than the odd material hanging loosely from their bodies.

"Thanks," Telestra took a step towards them. They still didn't speak. When she got closer she realized there were more saggy skinned figures behind the first three.

One of them. Not the one with the rhythmic modulator stuck out his right hand, "Jimmy Bairn." His speech stuttered. Telestra smiled. A fellow non maintained.

Weird name though. But the higher up the alphabet you go the weirder the names. Or so Grena had told her. Not that Telestra believed her or anything.

"Why are we on a ship?" Telestra took another step. One of the loose skins took a step back. She tilted her head, "I'm not infected."

She may not maintain her parts as well as some, but her software was regularly debugged. And she kept up on her vaccines! No tetanus!

It was Jimmy who spoke again, "We work here. The question we have is how you got here?"

That. That was. Good question.

"But...we're not actually in the ocean are we? With salt and sharks and..." Telestra shuddered, "Orcas."

A noise blared from behind Jimmy. Quick. Like a shout. But lighter.

"What was that?"

Jimmy took another step closer. She could see him clearly now. She really should upgrade her eyes. The organics just weren't doing it.

He looked like he had…fur…? On his face?

"That was a laugh. Henry’s a bit of an arse."

Telestra blinked. Who… were these people?

"What in hell is a laugh?"

#original writing #original fiction #sci fi #scifiandfantasy #science fiction #android #cybernetics

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch8

Consequences

TW for gore, enjoy!

Word count - 3,257

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

__________

---Reader---

This is so not what I studied…

“God damnit, Ken.”

Hideous burns extended almost to his elbows. The scorched tapestry of red and black tissue oozed yellowish goo where the deep fatty layer had melted, filling the room with a putrid scent. His hands resembled overdone steak and you cringed at the comparison.

You knew the basics of first aid; everyone you worked with took the same introductory class before their first day. CPR, bandaging wounds, checking the airway… Somehow, you didn’t think the basics covered this level of injury.

But everyone else was outside.

It was up to you.

Plastic squealed under your legs as you shifted to kneel by his head. Foamy blobs dotted the mat where you’d sprayed, but there was enough clear space to position Ken without touching the harsh chemicals. A soft moan slipped through his lips as you moved him, despite your best efforts to keep him comfortable.

What now? What do I do next?

His raspy breathing didn’t bode well. Probably inhaled too much smoke, the idiot. You pursed your lips and scanned the room, blocking out the foul aroma as you searched for the familiar red cube present in every communal room of the facility. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe it would have step-by-step instructions on how to treat a burn.

Since when has luck been on my side?

By the time you returned to Ken with the first aid kit in hand, soft grunts of agony accompanied his every exhale. The box opened with little complaint to reveal a hodge-podge of bandages and creams, gloves and tweezers and all manner of useless paraphernalia. How long had it been now? It must be close to the cutoff; someone must’ve noticed your absence by now.

Doesn’t matter. He can’t wait that long.

You glanced back at the poor man to find his eyes fluttering open. Whimpers of piteous suffering slipped from his cracked lips as he stared at you, panic taking over as the pain set in. No time to waste.

As if there ever is.

“Hey, hey! Ken, it’s gonna be okay!”

His desecrated arms rose as if to fend off an attack, held defensively between you and him. The huff of his breathing quickened into harsh pants, interrupted by a cough every few seconds. If he didn’t calm down, he risked going into shock. You ignored the alarm bells jangling in your head, the pounding of your heart and the dryness in your mouth. Emotions were useless in emergencies, compromising judgement and ruining rational thought in even the most well-trained individuals. Panic and fear were more dangerous than any weapon on the planet.

And Ken was succumbing to it, far too quickly. Tears leaked from his dilated eyes, his arms thrashing as he searched for an escape. You waited for an opening and seized his biceps, forcing his arms to still.

“N- no! Not you! Anyone but you!”

Why was he scared of you? After all the energy you invested in gaining his trust, what happened to the fragile bond you’d built?

This is not the time.

You leaned back, raising your hands into his view in a blatantly submissive pose and you held as still as you could while he calmed. His brows furrowed in a classic expression of confusion, his mouth gaping like a fish. What a waste of time; you still needed to find V.

“I’m here to help. I know it’s hard, but you need to try and stay calm.”

The same tone honed through years of dealing with your father forced its way through your lips. Placating, calm and reassuring. The voice of someone who meant no harm and only wanted to help. The tension on his face eased another fraction; you were on the right track.

But it was taking too long. How many rooms remained unchecked? Five? Ten?

Too many.

You lowered your hands and surreptitiously retrieved your phone. Time to call for backup. Screw protocol, you needed help. Damn Kotomi…

“Where the hell are you?!”

Aaron’s tinny voice answered after a single ring. You ignored the flare of terror on Ken’s face, if he was in his right mind, he’d be thanking you.

“I found Ken, he’s badly burned! I need you to send help.”

“God damnit! Is Mark with him? Where are you?”

You shuddered in revulsion at the realization of the nearby corpse’s identity. Poor Mark, he just got married. “In the gym. Mark is… he’s dead.”

“WHAT!?”

You flinched away from the speaker. A rapid stream of curses followed Aaron’s shocked cry, but dead was dead. Mark wasn’t your primary concern, or even your secondary. Tertiary, at best.

“Is anyone else still missing?”

This is already a catastrophe. If V got loose…

The thought didn’t bear dwelling on. It wasn’t in your control, none of it was. Even after years of education and hard work, you still weren’t holding the reins. Disaster still struck; people still died. Maybe you were wrong, maybe you couldn’t alter fate.

Maybe fighting destiny was a fool’s errand.

“No, got em all. Hang on a sec.”

His voice shouted orders, muffled as something covered the microphone. Your shoulders slumped in relief at his words. No other casualties, thank the damned stars. Assuming Ken made it, only one person paid the price today.

You could live with that.

“Right, I just sent in some EMT’s. Stay where- what the fuck?!”

“Aaron? What happened? What’s going on?”

Far-off screams echoed through the small speaker. A chill of foreboding toyed across your spine, teasing you with all manner of possible horrors. It wasn’t over.

---V---

He may as well have been a ghost, for all the attention he received. Not that he minded; the solitude allowed him to observe every second of wonderful chaos. The staff focused on others in more immediate need, comforting the criers and calming the panicked. What a delightful display of agony; each face inspired a slough of new ideas in his mind. The next group session couldn’t come fast enough.

Yet one especially tortured face stood out.

Kelly.

He resisted the urge to sneer at her blank expression, as if she simply lacked the capacity to acknowledge reality. Such docility disgusted him. Truly, the woman had no purpose. A wasted life, contributing nothing to society. A leech on severely limited resources. Undeserving of the air in her lungs.

You could fix that.

The artist’s lips twisted into a feral smirk, his emerald eyes glittering with glee. What a lovely idea… It had been so long since he indulged himself. Considering the situation, the risk was low. The closest staff member stood over a dozen steps away, struggling to reassure an incoherent young woman.

“Thank you, Vergil.”

He sidled closer to his target until less than a foot of empty air remained between them. She never shifted her eyes, didn’t bother to notice the predator closing in. His fingers itched as static bloomed in his nerves, the small hairs on his arms standing at attention. Some might call his plan a barbaric form of mercy.

He called it mastery.

“Yours is a cruel fate,” he began.

The merest twitch of her shoulders revealed her perception of him. He tracked the movements of the closest orderly, but the fool was still too far away to change anything. Goosebumps erupted on his skin, an anticipatory shiver running up his spine and rattling the loops of metal around his wrists. It’d been so long since he last saw that delightful crimson splash.

The artist licked his lips and continued, choosing his words with the utmost care. “I see your pain. It never gets lighter, does it?”

He paused, letting his seemingly sympathetic words sink in. No need to rush, not with the glaring incompetence of the staff. He could afford to savor the moment.

“The only peace you’ll ever find is in death. I know it. You know it. Even the doctors know it.”

Another pause as Kevin glanced their way, his attention divided between the artist and several others. Buffoon. Images of the man’s imminent death brought coils of heat to the artist’s gut. Long fingers twitched by his groin but a shouted word restrained him.

Focus!

Right. Kevin’s turn drew near, but today it was Kelly’s moment to shine.

“This might be the only chance you ever get,” he murmured, injecting every word with his own conviction and belief.

This may be my only chance, as well.

She jolted like she’d been electrocuted. Every change in her posture revealed his success; the slumping shoulders, the bowed head, the trembling legs. Any second now… the only question was how she’d do it.

Kelly’s mournful eyes met his, the normal weariness replaced by resigned acceptance. Her lips curled into a faint smile as she released a deep breath and surrendered.

“Thank you,” was all she said.

Then she crumpled to her knees and slammed her forehead into the pavement.

Shocked gasps echoed from mouths in the vicinity, but the effect was localized. Ripples of awareness would inevitably reach the staff, but not in time to change her fate. The artist smirked and edged away, blending into the bewildered crowd to enjoy the show. He was just a face in a crowd, a bystander to such madness. A fly on the wall.

The thought almost made him laugh.

Kelly lifted her bloody face and cracked it against the asphalt again. Stray droplets of crimson splattered those closest to her, staining their white clothing with beautiful crimson. The contrast was as awe-inspiring as ever, evoking ethereal voices to sing their rapture in his mind. He stepped further into the horde, barely maintaining his view as he neared the outer edge.

“Fuck!”

Kevin. He’d do his best, the fool always did, but nothing could stop Kelly now. She rose once more, grinning wider than ever before. It may have eased the ugliness of her face if not for the shattered teeth, broken nose and scarlet lips.

A final lunge. A sickening crunch, more cast off blood splattering the masses. A hint of grey mixed in as her body went limp, limbs twitching in the last throes of her tortured life just as Kevin skidded to her side.

Beautiful.

Horrified screams spoiled the solemn perfection. Perhaps it was for the best, otherwise someone would’ve heard the drawn-out groan vibrating from his lips. He could taste the coppery tang of blood, smell the moment her bowels released. His lids fluttered closed for a single heartbeat to revel in the pulsing joy radiating from his chest down to his cock.

“What the hell happened?” someone cried.

“Jesus…” another murmured.

Just to his left, someone lost their lunch and added another facet of visceral truth to the scene. Kevin’s meaty hands wrapped around Kelly’s shoulders and turned her faceup, revealing an image too grotesque to forget. Few among the horde knew what brain matter looked like before, yet now they all possessed the macabre knowledge.

Well done, Kelly. You had a purpose after all…

Still. If he’d been directly involved, the final view may have achieved magnificence. As it was, her corpse barely qualified as art. Crude, rushed and desperate. The act of a woman without hope.

But it was enough to bring a hum of satisfaction from his throat and a thrill of joy to his deranged soul.

Several staff members rushed toward the fresh corpse. Patients screamed and cried, lost in their own personal lunacy and delusions. Pandemonium and confusion reigned supreme over the crowd.

Weaklings. Now is the time.

A pulse of searing agony accompanied the rumbling voice’s words. He hissed and rubbed at his temples, instinctively trying to ease the pain. A powerful roar followed in its wake as Shadow expressed her displeasure, curses from Vergil and Griffon a beat behind. What new fiend was this, that so eloquently stated the truth?

“Who are you?” he murmured. It wouldn’t do to draw attention to himself now, not when he was so exposed.

I am Urizen, accursed vessel.

Foreboding laughter filled his mind as his blood turned to lava, boiling him alive. Stones pelted every inch of his skin and every nerve howled its suffering. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming, yet a muffled whimper slipped through.

And then, in a flash the torturous pain vanished.

For several seconds, V didn’t dare to move. His breath came in sharp pants, a sheen of sweat shimmering on his skin. There was something different about this newcomer, a form of strength he never imagined and was powerless to resist.

Not that he tried very hard.

Seize the opportunity you created. Let fear not guide your steps, but purpose.

The artist swallowed, twinges of pain still swirling through his muscles. He knew the voice was right, but what shreds of his conscience that remained screamed for him to stay. A strange thing; that side of him hadn’t made itself known in years. Why it spoke now, he didn’t understand.

No matter. Urizen was right. He must make his move now, before freedom danced from his grasp again. It was a shame you weren’t there with him, but he couldn’t waste the chance Ken so kindly provided.

He did not run; the less attention he drew, the more likely his success. The cuffs chafed at his bony wrists and he clutched the chain connecting them to keep it silent as the shadows of branches welcomed him home. For the first time in months, where he went and what he did was his choice to make.

I am free.

But I will return.

---Reader---

Malphas sat in the usual spot at the head of the conference table. Various staff flooded the room, far too many people for the number of seats available. As with most meetings, it was first come first serve so you ended up standing near the door. Not the most powerful position, but it made for a decent view.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s get started. Aaron?” Malphas began.

The head of security stood and sighed. The weight of responsibility colored his voice as he recapped the events of three days past, the ensuing manhunt and emergency medical treatments. By the time he was done, you couldn’t help but count the numerous faces staring at you with anger. It didn’t make any sense, it’s not like you told Ken to murder Mark and start a fire.

Yet somehow, your peers thought something along those lines.

Assholes.

“Two dead, one escaped and one injured... I don’t need to tell you all how bad this looks.”

Your eyes darted to Kotomi. Her catastrophic failure mystified you; it likely always would. To break down just when people were counting on you to stand tall and keep them safe was unforgivable. What might have happened had she held it together, you’d never know.

I can damn well guess.

You would’ve made it outside in time to keep an eye on V. He’d still be here and Kevin wouldn’t be blaming himself for the first escaped patient in over fifty years. Maybe Kelly would still be alive, too.

It would’ve changed everything.

“First off, we’re going to review our safety protocols in depth. This cannot happen again,” Malphas broke in.

He paused to meet every eye in the room, the authority of his bug-like gaze driving home how serious he was.

“Second, Dr. Ishida will no longer be involved with emergency procedures. Would anyone like to volunteer to take over her role?”

Kotomi bowed her head in shame, hiding behind her silken hair as a meager few hands rose.  You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her pathetic form. Why did she even work here? It clearly didn’t suit her skills or preferences. Curiosity tugged at you, but the time to ask her was long gone.

“Until the inquiry has been resolved, Dr. Waras will be suspended from any activities on site. Dr. Waras’ cases will be reassigned to Dr. Ishida for the time being.”

The hum of the ventilation system faded away as static fizzled in your mind. Someone shifted their weight, another coughed. This couldn’t be happening, you refused to believe it.

He can’t be serious!

You’d done everything right, followed protocol to the letter and taken on more than you were supposed to because Kotomi broke under pressure. What happened in the parking lot had nothing to do with you, and Ken never showed any inclinations toward wreaking havoc. How the hell were you taking the fall for this?

“Everyone, stay vigilant. If anything further is required of you, I’ll be in touch.”

As the staff filtered out the door, whispering and averting their eyes from you, pure rage battled for control within you. After all your hard work, all your dedication and sacrifice, they were taking it all away. It didn’t matter if you weren’t found at fault, this would follow you for the rest of your career. If only Kotomi wasn’t such a damned coward, if only she’d done her fucking job...

How could she do this to me? She could’ve said something to defend me, don’t I deserve that much after listening to her stupid stories?

Only Malphas and Aaron stayed behind. Kotomi shot a piteous look at you as she left, but you only glared back. Hurt flashed in her pretty eyes and a small flame of victory danced in your chest, but it didn’t matter.

You spoke the moment the door clicked shut. “You know this wasn’t my fault.”

“That remains to be determined,” Aaron replied coolly.

“But what about Kotomi? She was supposed to do half the floor but she left with the patients! She’s the one who failed, not me.”

Malphas pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He looked so old, like he’d aged a decade in the last few days. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Kelly’s family is demanding answers and there’s an uproar in legal. It was your patients who were involved, your patients who died and got injured. I know you did your best, but until I can prove it my hands are tied.”

Even through the sting of your embarrassed rage, you felt sorry for him. Being in charge at a time like this had to suck.

But still.

“Can’t you just stick me with the lower risk patients instead?”

Aaron snorted, crossing his thick arms derisively. “Not a chance. The press would have a field day, not to mention you’d get so bored you’d start the next fire.”

You pursed your lips. He had a point.

“The moment I have an alternative, you’ll know.”

Years of practice helped you stifle the urge to cry and lash out. Nothing good came from emotional outbursts, especially not in the workplace. You had to stay coolheaded and behave.

At the end of the day, the only thing in yourcontrol was yourself.

You took one last look at the flimsy conference table, the plain beige walls and inoffensive wall art. It was funny, even though the fire was on a different floor, you still smelled smoke and burning flesh. It permeated the stale recycled air like perfume, yet only you seemed to notice.

And blood, that metallic scent followed you everywhere. No matter how hard you scrubbed your skin, imagined ichor stained your hands. You couldn’t escape the fragmented reminders.

But to be cast out, like garbage?

Nothing is more foolish than to expect the world to treat you fairly.

The artist was unhinged, but maybe he had a point.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

#Be My Nightmare #my writing #fanfic #v x reader #reader insert #devil may cry #dmc #dmcv #tw: gore #tw: mental health #tw: suicide

[crystalelemental]

There’s a lot more info on Pokemon coming out.  “Pokemon sword and shield spoilers” for anyone blocking the tag.

Let’s start with this: the fossils are an incredibly cool concept, but I don’t know how much I like the designs.  It’s a really, really interesting idea, but...I dunno, they’ve yet to grow on me.  Basically, there are four fossil Pokemon, none of them evolve.  Instead, you basically mix and match halves of fossils to create a whole thing.  Now, it’s unclear how this works, but it kinda seems like there’s two top halves, and two bottom halves, for four combinations you can make.  I love this.  Being fossils, they might all be part-Rock, but looking at their designs, elements suggest that we might get dual-types without Rock included.  So that’s really unique.

By comparison, the pseudo-legend is another fucking Dragon, and that’s lame as all hell.  It’s also not Duraludon.  Who...I expected to evolve into the pseudo-legend.  But no, instead there’s a Dragon/Ghost thing.  It looks kinda cool, I don’t hate it, but I am severely disappointed that pseudo-legends aren’t changing things up.  Seems that, despite Metagross and Tyranitar existing in the early games, they’re determined to keep up this new and forced “pattern” of “Every pseudo-legend must be dragon type.”  Boring.

Speaking of dragons, I can’t decide if I love or hate the apple.  On the one hand, its base form is...just an apple.  On the flip side, it’s evolution reveals the apple is apparently an egg and there’s a dragon thing that hatches out of it, and it’s a pretty neat concept.  Plus, it means we’re continuing the incredibly dopey trend of new dragons looking like goons.

Alcremie’s pre-evolution is adorable, and there’s a pretty doofy pre-evolution for Dreadmaw too.  It’s at this point, however, that I must note something important.  All my worries about single-stage Pokemon getting Gigantamax forms and then being useless after this gen?  Gone.  Apparently, a good number of them are at least two-stage.  Which is a lot more promising.  Granted, this increases the potential success rate from the like 20% among single-stage Pokemon to about 50% for dual-stage, but still, it counts.

There’s, uh...there’s Galarian Corsola and its evo, which...yeah.  Listen, Pokemon Company...what do you have against Corsola?  Last Gen you introduced its incredibly violent predator in Toxapex, and this generation you give it an alternate form based on bleached coral, a byproduct of global warming and pollution, and make it a Ghost type.  That’s...really fucked up.  What did Corsola ever do to you?  I wanted it to have an evolution, but not like this.

We got confirmation that the foxes are Dark type, which (1) isn’t perfect because Zoroark, so there’s still type overlap, but (2) explains why Mightyena isn’t in the game.  A previous post on the Twitter accounts stated this was a really early game Pokemon (so it sucks), and no sense having Mightyena present to compete for the title of early-game Dark type.

There’s the elephants, which...the base form’s cute, the final form looks cool, I’m satisfied but not super invested.  There’s also the Electric/Poison creature’s evolution, which...doesn’t quite look right?  I dunno, kinda like how Salandit evolved into Salazzle and you’re like “Well, there’s the furry bait.”  Like that.

There’s...Falkins?  I have no idea how to describe it.  Looks like a little bug thing, kinda like a fatter, pressed together Wiggler enemy from Mario.  Not bad, not too invested.

There’s some little...imp thing.  Indeedee.  It looks cute.  I kinda like it.

There’s the pre-evolution for Polteageist, and it is also cute.  Nothing to update, it’s a great evolutionary line.

Fire Centipede has a pre-evolution and it’s the funniest thing, man.  It’s just a smaller version of its evolution, still just as angry, but with like a little mustache.  I love it.  Fire/Bug Centipede is great, I adore this thing.

And then...the highlight of all things.  Hatterene is revealed in a less blurry form, and my god it’s wonderful.  A three-stage evolutionary line.  The first stage is a Kirby enemy.  The mid-stage is unbelievably cute, as all good Psychic-type evolutionary lines must be.  And the final form is just gorgeous.  When they first revealed it, I couldn’t tell what was going on, but my brain auto-filled it as if there were a mannequin head at its base and just a tower of wig and hats.  It looked cool in its Gigantamax form, but those can look wildly different from their base so I wasn’t sure what to expect.  But now that I can tell what it is and what it’s doing...best Pokemon.  I still adore Alcremie, but Hatterene might take the favorite spot.

But wait, there’s one more thing!  Presumably the tertiary legend: Eternatus!  “What is it?”  The fuck if I know.  I’m looking at the pictures and can’t even comprehend it.  Frankly, I’m a bit annoyed at it.  It doesn’t seem to be an Ultra Beast, but goddamn it should be.  There’s two forms: one that’s kinda draconian, and one that’s distinctly alien.  There’s even an image suggesting its likeness was made in the form of a crop circle, so like...no idea what that’s about.  As far as legends go, I like it a hell of a lot better than Sif and Shield Pupper.

Outside of the Pokemon, there’s an announcement that the dex is 405 for the main story, and that there’s allegedly a bigger post-game focus, including an expanded dex that goes to around 650.  Which is pretty good, all things considered.  I actually adore the idea of a main game dex, and a post-game dex, provided the main game dex has all the brand new stuff, barring maybe a legendary.  Gen 5 it up, son.

Anyway, that’s all we’ll be getting.  Turns out, there was some mixup and the leaker’s identity was accidentally revealed with one of the posts that went around.  Now, in a hilarious twist, the various twitters and discord serves are in absolute chaos as the main people sharing out the leaks are accusing one another of this accident, and...god, it’d be hilarious if this hadn’t happened before the reveal of version exclusives.

#pokemon sword and shield spoilers

[thetigerisariver]

Csa cw

I don't want to reopen this shitty discourse but re: those shitty posts about fandom and "fake csa allegations"

I just hate how it makes me feel so dirty. Because they really set up this dychotomy of like you either avoid everyone under 18 or you talk to minors about porn and sex and fucking. And like I fucking hate that I instantly "oh no sometimes I work teens and I'm friends with some teens does this mean I'm a predator like these people?" because my brain is garbage. But also I think it is deliberate, like these people talk in a way that's profoundly manipulative and aggressive towards people who maybe are vulnerable, which igs includes me even if I don't want to think about it and anyway my trauma is secondary to tertiary.

#This is like that shit with poachratrol #That was fucked #Fuck that guy #Csa tw #To be clear I don't even provide sex Ed #I mostly talk to ppl about gender stuff and family stuff

[myloish]

tonycurtis replied to your post: tonycurtis replied to your post: ...

do these people go to like high school. have they never seen high school relationships jdskfladslk;jfalsjf d

i dont know it’s so wild to me!!!!! like you can tell it’s just this Thing that fandom as a whole has internalized, that if they see something they don’t like they can just pick their favorite buzzword and find a way to apply it so that anyone who doesn’t agree with them is an [abuser/predator/etc]* 

but then something comes in and messes up the house of cards they’ve built out of unintentional tertiary implications of lines and tweets from a voice actor they didn’t like from 2011, and suddenly they’re at their own throats because they’ve made all these specific rules to win arguments but those rules just got retconned all to fuck because they originated and only ever existed in annoyed group chats.

it’s a mess and it’s horrifying in a sense because this is what fan communities have devolved into but it’s also hilarious because it’s a show about teens piloting magic flying lion robots please just watch the cartoon and stop making postssts

*(not saying there aren’t discussions to be had and points to be made, but most of them were already made in like 2015 and so much since then has just been two rival camps throwing shit at each other)

#tonycurtis

[aioinstagram]

Atar Calculator ATAR Results 2017 VCE results 2017 ATAR is Trending on Thursday December 14 2017 http://www.aioinstagram.com/atar-calculator-atar-results-2017-vce-results-2017-atar-is-trending-on-thursday-december-14-2017/

Herald Sun says: VCE results 2017: Girls dominate as D-Day arrives for thousands of students

Top 1 articles about Atar Calculator:

The long wait is over for 47,450 students who will receive their Australian Tertiary Admission Rank (ATAR) from 7am, with an average score of 66.25 for girls and 63.70 for boys. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT ATAR middot; ATAR FACTS AND MYTHS middot; MAKING

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This Atar Calculator’s photo Trending 3 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: This was what I was aiming for but I really dont think ill get anywhere close :s #thuglife #illjustgototafe #atarcalculator #hsc Harvey Weinstein, Salma Hayek, Frida, is Trending on Thursday, December 14, 2017https://www.youtube.com/ Thu, 14 Dec 2017 11:33:47 +0000https://queryfeed.net/instagram?q=%23HarveyWeinstein99Harvey Weinstein made relentless sexual advances, threatened Eyewitness News says: Harvey Weinstein responds to Salma Hayek claims

Top 2 articles about Harvey Weinstein:

Hayek, who regularly starred in films released by Weinsteins Miramax in the 1990s, credited him with helping her start her career. But she said he would turn up at her door quot;at all hours of the night, hotel after hotel, location after locationquot;. When LOS ANGELES – Harvey Weinstein quot;does not recall pressuringquot; Salma Hayek to do a quot;gratuitous sex scenequot;. The movie mogul has spoken out after the 51-year-old actress accused the producer of sexually harassing her a number of times after she struck a

Trending Images of Harvey Weinstein on Instagram:

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Description: Stacia Robitaille, the wife of Hall of Fame hockey player Luc Robitaille, has tweeted about an encounter with Donald Trump more than two decades ago in an elevator at Madison Square Garden. – She wrote Monday on Twitter that Trump “was aggressive & told me I was coming home with him. I laughed, stating I was married to a Ranger. He guaranteed me my husband didn’t make as much money as him.” – The couple married in 1992. Luc Robitaille played for the New York Rangers from 1995-97 and was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in 2009. He currently is president of the Los Angeles Kings. – Stacia Robitaille responded to criticism in a second tweet, saying “I’m not a liberal lefty and I’m not looking for attention. Just felt bad keeping it to myself.” – More than a dozen women have accused Trump of sexual misconduct over the last year. He denies the allegations. — #creeps #predator #impeachtrump #useless #crooks #idiots #equality #unhinged #ignorance #trump #mueller #impeachment #dumptrump #fraud #minions #fucktrump #hypocrisy #accountability #clueless #civility #bigots #equalrights #lgbt #equality #donaldtrump #harveyweinstein #kevinspacey #roymoore #donaldtrump #hockey #metoo

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 2 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: Сальма Хайек открыто заявила, что в течение долгих лет была жертвой сексуальных домогательств скандального продюсера Харви Вайнштейна. Актриса вспомнила случай, который произошел во время работы над фильмом “Фрида” Читай по ссылке в профиле @hello__ru #hello_ru #salmahayek #harveyweinstein #frida #сальмахайек

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Description: Salma Hayek: ‘Harvey Weinstein también es mi monstruo’. La actriz compartió un durísimo relato sobre el productor. Encuéntralo en nuestro Story. #salmahayek #harveyweinstein

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Description: Salma Hayek has penned a powerful op-ed in the New York Times, calling Harvey Weinstein a monster and chronicling the time he threatened to kill her because she refused his disgusting advances. It’s a difficult but worthy read. Go to link in bio or swipe up on this in our Instagram Story and Highlights.

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 5 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: Sounds like #SalmaHayek’s comments at Sundance from earlier this year about not victimizing ourselves as women & her speaking over Jessica Williams had plenty to do with some deep-seated internalized sexism. This doesn’t excuse her behavior at the time (which was also antiblack). However, this does shed some light on the fact that as women, we aren’t asking to be victims. As women & especially women of color, many of us blame ourselves for our own oppression and victimhood. We may experience things like cognitive dissonance or justify the abuse we endured in order to help us survive. In the end, this internalization does more harm than good and can also cause us to hurt others. The oppressor within is real and internalized oppression is something we all need to work on. Although I’ve had complicated feelings about Salma since this exchange, I commend her for sharing her story. It makes me sick to my stomach what Salma went through. It makes me wonder how many more phenomenal films she could have helped make happen if it wasn’t for scumbag #HarveyWeinstein. It’s an outrage that as women of color artists, we are so often limited from freely creating & moving through this world because of sexual abuse and men’s misogynistic sense of entitlement. All in all, I think Frida would be proud of Salma for her courage today. #metoo

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 6 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: #SalmaHayek: “#HarveyWeinstein también ha sido mi “monstruo”. La actriz mexicana ha expresado su experiencia en contra del productor acusado de acoso sexual. Los detalles en Vogue.mx #Regram

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 7 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: @Madonna and #HarveyWeinstein (2007)

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 8 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: The SAG Awards announced today that all the presenters of the 2018 ceremony will be women. @kristenanniebell will be the only host, rather than the usual pair of one man and one woman. The decision is their response to 2017 and to pay tribute to the #metoo movement and the women of Hollywood who came forward with their sexual assault stories. — This is amazing and so inspiring! (And to the “men get sexual assaulted too” crowd that will be in here shortly, this doesn’t say only women get sexually assaulted. It’s just simply paying tribute to the women that do.)

This Harvey Weinstein’s photo Trending 9 on Instagram, Photo credit to Instagram

Description: I hate how nervous I was writing this. How doubtful, whether anyone will care about my opinion, my story, my will to lead to make a change. But I am not afraid anymore. In times like this, we must speak up to be heard. #rant #harveyweinstein #weinstein #politics #vogue #speakup #harassment #metoo #womenforwomen #womenunited #salmahayek #people #notafraid #bodypositivity #fearless

#Trendings #2017 hsc school rankings #are atar calculators accurate #Atar Calculator ATAR Results 201

[jaddl]

A Modest Proposal: We Probably Want to Tweak the Playoff Tiebreakers

I’ve been thinking a lot about the tie-breakers in JADDL standings to determine playoff berths and/or divisional champs, and something has been bothering me. Let’s discuss.

According to the JADDL Constitution, final division standings are to be determined as follows:

[T]he three teams at the top of the standings of each division shall represent the league in the playoffs; in the event of a tie, the following metrics will be used in order until the tie is broken: a) intra-division record, b) head-to-head results, c) total points, d) records against common opponents beginning from the top of the standings, e) total points in head-to-head games, f) a coin flip; the two division champions shall receive byes in the first round of the playoffs.*

I was using this list to work through playoff scenarios and it struck me: these criteria only contemplate settling a tie-breaker in a one-on-one context. What if there are more than two teams competing for a playoff spot or division title AT THE SAME TIME?

To illustrate, let us consider a scenario that could very well unfold next week. Let’s imagine a world where the Fightin’ Longshanks beat the Bad News Bensons week 13 and Team O’douls also defeats the Millennium Falcons. Let us further assume that the final season point totals end with the following rankings: 1) Shanks, 2) Bensons, 3) Odouls.

If that happens, and of course it’s very possible, then all three teams will have not only identical overall records, but also identical divisional records, and, perhaps most improbable, a series split among all three teams in head-to-head matchups. That is, each of these three teams will have gone 1-1 versus the other two teams. To wit:

Scenario No. 1

Shanks 7-6 (6-4 Div): 1-1 v. Bensons, 1-1 v. Odouls, 1st in points

Bensons 7-6 (6-4 Div): 1-1 v. Shanks, 1-1 v. Odouls, 2nd in points

Odouls 7-6 (6-4 Div): 1-1 v. Bensons, 1-1 v. Shanks, 3rd in points

Obviously in this scenario it makes sense to boot Odouls from the playoffs and have the Eastern Wildcard game feature the Bensons and the Shanks. All other things being equal among these three teams, BOTH of the Bensons and the Shanks scored more season points than Odouls, so it follows that they should make the playoffs over Jones. But it’s easy to imagine a slightly different scenario where all three teams have competing and rational arguments that they should make the playoffs.

Let’s assume the following:

Scenario No. 2

Shanks 7-6 (6-4 Div): 2-0 v. Bensons, 1-1 v. Odouls, 2nd in points

Bensons 7-6 (6-4 Div): 0-2 v. Shanks, 2-0 v. Odouls, 3rd in points

Odouls 7-6 (6-4 Div): 0-2 v. Bensons, 1-1 v. Shanks, 1st in points

A problem has emerged. Do you see it? 

In this scenario, Benson has the head-to-head tiebreaker against Odouls by virtue of the season sweep, and the Shanks have the head-to-head tiebreaker against the Bensons by virtue of that season sweep. Odouls has the tiebreaker against the Shanks because he’s scored more points than Ryan, yet remember he loses the tiebreaker against Benson by virtue of their head-to-head series.

So who makes the playoffs? No matter how you split it, the team who is eliminated will have one tiebreaker v. a team that makes it. Say you kick Benson out because he’s third in points, he’ll be like “what the fuck I swept Jones and he MADE the playoffs!” So then you decide to kick Odouls out, but he says “what the fuck I split the series with Hannebaum AND scored more points than his team BUT HE makes the playoffs?” So you kick Hannebaum out, and he’s like, “what the fuck I swept Benson and he gets in?” and so on ad nauseum.**

So what’s a league to do? I don’t think this problem can rear it’s ugly head this year. If these three Eastern teams all wind up with identical overall, divisional, and head-to-head series records, it makes obvious sense to just use total points to sort the three teams out. But we need to consider what to do in the hypothetical Scenario No. 2.

There are many solutions to this problem. I think the simplest and perhaps fairest is to just throw out head-to-head criteria when there are three teams competing for two playoff spots or for the division title but all three have identical overall and divisional records. You would just sort them out by overall points, much like the clean Scenario No. 1.

Of course, that makes it possible for a team with an identical overall and divisional record to miss the playoffs and be replaced by a team that it swept in the regular season. But you gotta narrow it down somehow. Maybe someone has a better solution. Either way, we gotta deal with this shit.

*  Amendment 1, Constitution of the League, paragraph 3. The Constitution is itself an interesting document, but it’s kind of hard to find it on the League website. On the homepage, if you scroll all the way to the bottom past the comments, there’s a “Constitution” link in the footer. Did you know there’s a constitutional clause that allows league members to forcibly oust a Commissioner? Did you know that the draft date has to be decided unanimously?  

** Now it’s true that the League Constitution has more tiebreakers after 1) record, 2) divisional record, and 3) points, but these additional criteria suffer from the same fatal flaw of the first three criteria, they’re binary as opposed to tertiary; they are only sufficient to compare two teams to each other, not three teams against each other. After total points, the next tiebreaker criteria is “records against common opponents beginning from the top of the standings.” First of all, my guess is that this language predates the formation of divisions, and that makes this criteria pretty unwieldy to use in general. In a bifurcated league there are two lists of final standings, one for each division. While by rule each of these three teams will have played the Eastern divisional champ twice, they could have also all three played the Western Divisional Champ in inter-divisional play. These issues aside, the criteria doesn’t even necessarily solve anything: each of the three teams could theoretically have identical records against either divisional champ ( it’s easy to imagine that they all went 0-2 or 1-1 against the Eastern divisional champ, or all went 1-0 or 0-1 v. the Western divisional champ). Point totals in head-to-head matchups, the next criteria, has the same flaw (there are three head-to-head matchups to consider), and the final tiebreaker, a coin-flip, only works with two contestants. Moving on down the list does not solve the problem. 

[eekispyykes]

On Suicides and Celebrity Artists.

M Bench

I was watching a few youtube videos about the passing of Chris Cornell and Chester Bennington. Pretty certain it was a Foo Fighters Interview and then A Pearl Jam tribute singing Black was featured.. Those who we call pop musicians; some started with the desperation of being a band that made it. That's all they set themselves to being. It's not shallow unless you find out after making it big that the effort of being a band was also done in procrastination and avoidance of responsible destinations and messages. Responsible goals and social activism are roles of those who educated themselves about the matter. Some lyrics get hailed as 'so deep' when they were written in 12 seconds to put some sort of vocal over the riff.

 Some musicians started broken. They sing about being broken people. They title their albums " people=shit" . Some wear masks to obscure their identity but also complain the little kids in the front row don't want to look at their masked identity. Quite a complex conniption to want attention and not be seen. So I make my point; musicians aren't well in the head sometimes and its not only for being hayseeds from Iowa.

 The point was made that a super mega star bank account won't keep people from killing themselves. "They have problems just like everyone else." Yes they do. Consider Christina Grimmie for situational personalization of mockery. Celebrity musicians have stalkers all the time. That Grimmie was female was even more a draw for predator types. A particular stalker might take up way too much of a celebrity's time that the music business is no longer fun. Tactics of security become tiring and anxious. . Grimmie was fatally shot by a stalker on June 10th,2016. Consider another star is fed up with their stalker. They see the stalker in the crowd and they want that person to hurt. Artists will be apt to dramatize their inconvenience. Would you call a vengeance ploy of killing themselves onstage just to break the heart of the stalker to be also selfish? The fan can't keep their shit straight. I think vengeance is a good virtue on a one on one basis. Inconvenienced bystanders have to understand conflict is not an aberration .

 Artists have a preset to feel misunderstood and are misunderstood. I'm not explaining suicide for any generalized trend. Death and suicide should be seen as two different events by no intent of inadequate departure. Look at the trolls that tell artists they suck and they sold out. Fans don't get how too many among them feel ownership of a band. Teens especially feel like they are owed something from a band. I had this error of mind also. A band is not a corporation. Being a fan is not owning shares in a band. Similarly, being old enough to be news aware and objectively critical of a younger generation doesn't mean the right to bash them either.

 I can say I have a reason depression would be worthwhile when hearing older Generation X'rs and Boomers pick up the trash talk from radio jocks. " The younger generation with their Ipods and smart phones, how terrible and lazy!" Critics of younger generations are an example of the prepackaged divisive rhetoric that sects of American males spew verbatim. Sometimes I see it amongst military types. Other times its gear heads and still other times the Duck Dynasty reruns. Old hagmen that wonder around and just say provoking things to teens. Is it jealousy?, I don't know.

 What it is, is provocational and apathy. Apathetic people aren't good at talking about whats wrong with them. Surely they want to affect change for the worse without knowing themselves. Sit down and play a video game with your kids, spend time doing with what they're doing, parents. Maybe they'll notice their kids are being trained killers playing squad matches in counterstrike Global offensive. Mom hasn't yet managed a headshot.  The manifestation of death isn't only suicide. People might just be dying inside in more than one way all over the place.  Under the rockets red glare, bombs bursting in air.. a standardized anthem in preparation for war eventually rotted the American spirit inside out. Politics led people to war on each other as enemies of each others alternative facts.    

 An artist has a right to watch a new youtube video from an upstart musician and decide by one particular troll on a night of writers block was why 'going out on a high note is best". Career decisions happen by suicide. In the musicians consideration of their persona, they are owned by fans. If they can't write new music and can't write music to make continuing relevance, hasbeenism reminds them of their age. Hasbeenism keeps groupies from being as plentiful. Hasbeenism is accelerated by peoples attention shifting to the new sounds of the age.  Its certainly good to move on from music as long as the artist is ready to see themselves as something other than a performer and center of attention.

  Some teens and twenty somethings have moved on to exploit a bands type of genre as their excuse to punch random people in the audience. They call it crowd killing. Crowdkilling is not moshing and if you see a crowdkiller, by all means level them out. They are a criminal assailant by trait. The suicide topic and death are relevant. As a band, you are a business and the people of your reputation to assault nonmoshing fans is a problem child. Either a band is a good decision maker to eject the fan or their sense of scene is as mediocre as their  fretboard theory.

 Critics suggest music is ever getting worse. A characteristic of timbre has been said to be historically low. Timbre is how the totality of instruments co mingle on a recording to create authentic tertiary atmosphere in their sound. Some reason of this warmth is by the analog recording process. The bands tracks aren't only bouncing off their other bandmates but also the recording process itself.

 Imagine a new generation growing into a world of critics that keep reinforcing their nonsence that music is disappearing? That’s a suicidal inclination no later than age 12. These critics are wrong. Kids are native to Mp3s which naturally strip away excess frequencies. Todays audiophiles also have a three lane criticism of music. Music of the radio station friendly variety isn't the whole of the cultural sphere. Lets talk about it at focus. Its mixed to be DJ friendly and listeners of that music expect to hear it in the frame of a DJ setting. Audiophiles in general aren't just listeners but also amateur audio engineers and home party DJs.

 Our sounds are naked with digital recording for the better. Males voices and female voices are better trained. Sapiens are in want to hear themselves so vocals are naturally given their room to deliver deep or shallow or repetitive lyrics. They want to hear every note, every scream and the growl of phelgm in the back of a hardcore yellers throat. Clarity issues are the opposite of timbre. Music is moving away from it. On the mixing side, each instrument is being given its room in the mix for sake of remixes. Each mix is letting the instruments breathe. With only 4-5 people in a band, pop music shouldn't sound like symphonic timbres or asked to.

 In the later phases of a bands life, they might team up with an orchestra to justify their music as technically academic. Metallica did this on the S&M album. Led Zeppelin and many other bands have come around the circle to this result. Pop tries to claim its merits among academia uselessly. Who cares? Gentrification of puritan establishment oppositional pop culture is happening. Its depressing and if suicide can become contagious across that isle, maybe its worth it. You're life is worth more than fulfilled martyrdom though. Know that.. or if disagreeing fully, at least be sure your manifesto is well written. I might be alive if even to suffer the vast too many typos of my first book's first version. I wrote another book and feel better about this whole author thing.

 In the first world , the concept of celebrity is like a famous ideal of classism. It surpasses politicians by honesty. If a man cannot live honestly for himself, then why live? On that measure, the united states congress is only alive to be liars. My suspicion is Capitol Hill surely fears koolaid parties like being shown the sign of the cross and bursting to flames of their own dishonesty and malice. I cannot say an entertainer has moved on to a new level to kill themselves. Many more spheres exist for their adventure and rounding as people. It will be my long held belief is suicides among artists happen by two specific reasons: The oppressor they hate continues to be privileged to oppress in their viewpoint, or as honest people… they resent not knowing how to make change from their position of fame for the things they want to affect.

 On that second measure is a split between the courage of being an entertainer and being an orator/activist. Bands get on stage drunk and fucked up for a reason.. to get over stage fright. Outing your own political platforms is a much bigger task than being knocked on a three chord progression among peers. Sometimes leadership among entertainers becomes a revealed gamble and peer into a window of a frail esteem. Fans and people of generic ilk expect that famous is the best of ideals. Expectations are being made daily how great it is to be famous. Not even with the assistance of drug addiction does fame necessarily meet the hype it was given. Only a small percent of the groupies can make it in the backstage loin attention hours. Three STDs later, a band is surely fed up with some aspects of too much attention and too much more risk.

  Once the attention is a dull rash and the bank account can't be spend even so quickly for remaining in the zone of 'struggling new band' angst; fame loses its luster. Bands are often born in humble and under financed beginnings. It’s a part of the bands character.

Is it really selling out to buy the instruments you wanted? A Schecter Damien and Peavey 6505 cabinet is uptraded to a Fryette Pitbull with AAA figured Les Paul. The artist wants to hear their dream rig as recorded. The singer learns to sing and yells less. By these two factors a band will turn its tone to a legato sustained drone affect.

  A metal band will confront its success by sounding too over produced. Some genres are famous for being poor and fame is the sellout. No longer owned by the fans is made a  statement of abandonment for other than music itself. I blame some matters of depression on a difficultly with gender identity. When a bands material strays away from 'uber masculinity', self doubt can happen.  I don't challenge each member about their own masculinity or femininity or queerness for that matter.. but what the feedback loop outlined a band in reviews.

  The changes of material from Nevermind to In Utero cannot be ignored. The angst was gone. Perhaps with it a sense of being motivated. Making an enemy to confront will eventually be realized being a microphone for hate lyrics. Meanwhile, the political enemies were never too detailed or identified to make any significant statement in a song about topics in a deliberately preachy way.

  Celebrities have to chase their own famous persona. Imagine facing waking mornings being more nice than you want to be so a fan doesn't post a video of you. That's not honest. What if you find out your fans were assholes in other aspects of their life? Its not that an artist might be depressed that ends their life. Ask why? Are you good enough fans? Are the people good enough to receive them? Third parties fail in the United States because the majority of campaign donors; even small donors; are attention invested to those they've donated before. They don't want to give attention to objective wants since they've be sold prepackaged platforms with the entertainment values of a rivalry. Suicide is a manifestation of choosing not to be among the society. It’s a social criticism to wonder about. To stoke change and to ask what must be changed, that's what I inquire on celebrity suicides. Depression doesn't happen on its own. If the world is depressing, make it happier. Unable to know how to make it better leads to more depression. And then after awhile people stop wanting to be depressed by assured permanence.