#i also don’t know if a powerpoint is the move?? i never had powerpoints at my old tefl school

[msschemmenti]

valentines date auction

a/n: please do not fight me... i meant to finish and post this before valentine's days. i also started this like 9 months ago. i'm working through my drafts, bear with me please.

prompt: ava convinces the staff to throw a valentine's day fling to raise money for the school.

“So this year to bring in some extra money, I’ve come up with a brilliant idea. I think you’re all going to love it because it involves all of my favorite things.” Ava announced at the mic with a smile causing the teachers to roll their eyes. 

“Get on with it.” Melissa called from her seat in the gym. Barbara leaned over to swat her thigh as a warning but Melissa wasn’t too worried about her when she felt the younger woman on her other side shaking with giggles at her comment. Y/n Y/Ln, Abbott Elementary’s new PE teacher. She’d been working there since the start of the school year and she was approaching her first year with Abbott. She’d somehow wormed her way into the core group of teachers at Abbott and she unknowingly wormed her way into the forefront of Melissa Schemmenti’s mind. 

“We’re doing a Valentine’s Day Date Auction!” Ava grinned as she clicked to another slide on her powerpoint. “I’ll be auctioning off dates with our most attractive staff! And before you ask if this is legal, I don’t care. It’s for the children. So who wants in?” The room filled with concerned silence as no one made a move to sign up. “Oh don’t act like you people are getting dates on your own. This could be great for you,” At the continued silence Ava sighed, “Fine, the dates will be to wherever you like with a credit to handle the cost. It’s a free outing, people.” 

There’s a bit more bite and people’s hands started to raise in agreement. Melissa and Barb both shook their heads as Ava wrote people’s names down. “I can’t believe anyone is agreeing to this.” Melissa groaned.

“Who’re you telling, girlfriend? My Gerald would never participate in an auction like this and that’s the only man I’ll ever go on a date with.” 

“It must be so nice to not have to go through the whole courting stage anymore. It’s so exhausting trying to find a date nowadays.” Y/n grumbled crossing her legs as she leaned over to speak to Barb. 

“Oh don’t tell me you struggle to find a date?” Melissa eyed suspiciously. 

“Oh yeah. It’s hard out here. It’s so hard in fact that I will be the grand finale of this auction.” Y/n grimaced as both of the older women eyed her in shock.

“You’re up for sale?” Melissa asked incredulously. 

“Not for sale, more like for rent.” Y/n corrected causing both women to roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. There aren’t really any cons. I could meet my wife.” 

Barb seemed to be sold a bit on the idea, but the redhead was still on the fence. She and the PE teacher had been doing a bit of a flirtatious tango all year and she could never really tell if she was serious or not. Melissa had gotten to a point in her life where she really didn’t question who she was attracted to anymore, but she hadn’t figured out how to tell who was seriously attracted to her yet. Casual flirting aside, Melissa really didn’t know what Y/n’s type was. And she definitely didn’t have the guts to find out if she was her type. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see her auctioned off to some young philly broad.

“Plus it was either me or Gregory. He looked like he was going to have a heartattack when Ava asked which of us was going to seal the deal. I do what I can to keep you core teachers alive.” Y/n smirked with a final shrug. That caused both older women to chuckle, one easier than the other, but Y/n didn’t seemed to notice the confliction on Melissa’s face. 

Once Ava was satisfied with the number of teachers on her Valentine’s Day Auction roster, she closed the meeting out and release the teachers to their evenings. She hurried down the steps of the steps of the stage to catch Y/n as she stood up from her seat next to Melissa. 

“Y/n, how do you feel about dressing up as a construction worker?” Ava asked excitedly as she pulled up a picture on her phone. 

“Absolutely not. You’ll be lucky if I show up in something other than a track suit.” Y/n said pushing the woman’s phone away from her face. 

“What about-” Ava started. 

“No.” Y/n cut her off with her best smile. She reached up and patted Ava’s shoulder with a shake of her head. “Keep asking and I won’t show up at all.” That last threat seemed shut Ava up with a grumble. She sulked off with her roster and headed for her office as everyone readied themselves to go home for the night. Y/n looked at the two veteran teachers with smiles, “Alright ladies, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a great evening.” 

“You too Y/n.” Barbara smiled as she head for the door, Melissa trailing behind a bit as she caught the PE teachers eyes. 

“See ya kid.” Melissa called, causing the younger teacher to shoot a wink over her shoulder as she moved to help Mr. Johnson clear the chairs from the gym. Melissa’s cheeks heated as she rounded the corner out of them gym and fell in step with Barb. They briefly parted to lock up their classrooms and when they hit the couple of steps outside of the school Melissa was shocked for the second time within the last hour. 

“So are you gonna bid on Y/n or tell her how you feel before the auction?” Barb asked with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Melissa asked incredulously trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks. 

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You’ve been all but drooling over her for the better part of the school year. I don’t think I can watch it for much longer. This is your chance to make a move. She said it herself, she’s single and very much looking. So much so that she’s agreed to auction off and evening with herself. What can you need?” 

“Maybe any sort of indication that she feels the same way? I mean yeah we casually flirt, but how am I suppose to pursue anything if the whole thing was just a joke to her?” Melissa scowled.

“I highly doubt that’s the case. Do you know how many times Ava has attempted to do that whole flirting thing with her? Or the amount of parents, suddenly concerned with the PE curriculum. She hasn’t shown anyone as much attention as she consistently shows you.” Barb listed as Gerald pulled into the lot next Melissa’s car. Barbara smiled and waved at her husband before turning to look at her friend, “You’ve got to make a move girlfriend, before one of these parents snatch your chance at the auction.”

Melissa grumbles but heads to her home to think over what her friend said. She hated how right Barb sounded.

-

The Valentine’s Auction came much sooner than anyone was ready for. The morning of the event seemed to have the entire teachers lounge buzzing with excitement and trepidation. Janine, ever the chatty Kathy had taken to questioning everyone on what they planned to wear tonight. As soon as Y/n entered the room, Janine was up and buzzing. 

“Oh Y/n! What are you wearing tonight?” The shorter woman bounced on her heels next to the PE teacher as she doctored up a mug of tea. 

“Why? What have you heard?” Y/n asked suspiciously, hoping Ava hasn’t somehow told everyone about her costume ideas.

“Well I just want to make sure I’m not the only one wearing festive things. And I wanna make sure we’re not wearing the same thing of course. Wouldn’t want the fashion police to have a ‘who wore better’ moment.” Janine rambled and Y/n nodded following as much as she could. 

“Oh. I don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple pink tracksuits that might really draw people in.” Y/n chuckled taking her seat next to Melissa with a grin. “What do you think, is Nike sexy enough to secure a date with a Philly eleven like yourself?” 

Melissa rolled her eyes at Barbs foot kicking her under the table, “I’m sure you could pull a Philly eleven wearing far less than a pink Nike tracksuit.”

Y/n smiled and winked at the older teacher before turning her attention back to Janine, “Listen Janine. I highly doubt we’ll be wearing the same thing but don’t worry, I’ll have something within the valentines color scheme on.” The second grade teacher nodded, heading back to her seat. 

“So you’re both coming tonight right?” Y/n asked hopefully. 

“Yep, Gerald and I will be there. I wouldn’t want to miss seeing you meet your date.” Barb smiled with raised eyebrows. 

“How about you Red? Gonna be there to bail me out if some crazy bids on me?” Y/n asked.

“Anything for you, hun.” Melissa smiled, knowing those words held a lot more weight than she was letting on. 

“Good. I’ll see you both later than.” Y/n smiled squeezing Melissa’s shoulder affectionately before heading to the gym. 

-

“Welcome to the Avalentine’s Day Auction! We’re so glad you could all join us for our fundraising event this school year. As you know, Abbott is always looking for ways to better our school for your students and with that in mind, I hope you brought your checkbooks and rich friends because we’ve got some sexy staff members ready to go home with you all for a good cause.” Ava smiled looking out over the crowd. 

As Ava stood on the stage, Melissa sat in a table toward the back of the room with Barb, Gerald, and Gregory. Jacob and Janine were off scoping the potential bidders out. She herself was scoping the room out as well, but she was mostly looking for Y/n. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and part of her was much more desperate to see her than she usually allowed herself. It didn’t help that she had brought her checkbook and knew a part of her was willing to drain her savings to keep Y/n from going out with one of these young broads. As if she realized she looked ridiculous scanning the room, Melissa turned back to her table companions. Janine and Jacob came back shortly after Melissa pulled herself from her own search. Janine panting out of breath and Jacob grinning mischievously ready to spill the details of their crowd search. 

“There are quite a few people here. And we heard a lot of interest.”

“Interest in the two of you?” Melissa found herself asking. She didn’t mean to sound so shocked but it just came out that way. Both of the younger teachers shrank a bit but recovered when the redhead looked apologetic.

“Not exactly. Most of the women here are torn between being disappointed Gregory isn’t up there and excited that Y/n is. Speaking of, has anyone see her? I wanna see what outfit she went with.” Jacob said rising from his seat to scan the room. Oblivious to the panic he’d cause within Melissa. 

“Oh there she is, damn! She cleans up nice.” Janine called as she drew the groups attention to the doors to the gym. And Melissa damn near forgot how to breathe. Y/n paused in the doorway scanning the room, for their group presumably, but she was dressed in something none of them had ever seen her in. Gone were her trainers, baggy sweats, and matching hoodie sets. She was clad in fitted high waisted trousers and a matching vest top that showed just enough skin to have Melissa’s mind running. Her hair was held back by a red head band that matched her red ankle boots and leather jacket. Melissa was at a true loss for words. Y/n spotted the group and started making her way over with a smile. 

Before she could get too close Melissa felt Barb’s hand cup her chin and push up, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” She teased lightly causing Gerald to chuckle. 

Tonight was going to be a long long night. And she knew in her heart she might leave broker than she already was. 

-

“Alright ladies, this last one is for you!” Ava grinned as she motioned for Y/n to come up to the stage. 

The PE teacher grimaced and looked at the people at her table nervously, “Wish me luck.” She called before leaving to be paraded around the stage. She made it to the stairs and as she came into the view for the room, the cheers followed. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment but she trudged on reminding herself of the cause and the prospect of a decent meal on Ava’s dime. 

“Last but certainly not least. The finest thing to happen to Abbott Elementary since I became principal. Our PE teacher, Y/n Y/Ln! Strut your stuff boo!” Ava introduced causing the room to erupt further. And Melissa’s scowl to set. 

“She’s very fit as you can see. Super funny and super hot. She could probably bench you. Let’s start the bidding at $50?” Ava started. That didn’t last long though. Hands and paddles shot up eagerly at the price. So far, no one had gone for over $150, but Ava had a feeling Y/n was going to be the exception. 

“Can I get a $100 then? $150? $200?” Ava called and some hands dropped but there were still quite a few waving in the air. Ava motioned for Y/n to do a spin on the stage and she obliged if only to make the whole thing go a bit faster. 

“Alright how about $300?” That seemed to do it and there was one hand left up. Y/n recognized her, Lauren Williams. She’d been one of the first people to schedule a meeting with Y/n when she started claiming her son had some health issues that may impact his participation in the gym class. After the first meeting, it was very clear her son had no problems and it was really just a ploy to get the gym teacher alone. She’d been dodging her since she started and she really wasn’t looking forward to how this was going. 

“300 going once, going twice…” Ava called waving the bedazzled gavel she’d gotten herself. Until a familiar hand shot up at the back table. “I see 350? Alright Schemmenti, I see you.” Ava grinned. “Do I hear 400?” Lauren’s hand was back up, quickly. “450? Anyone?” 

All eyes shifted to Melissa to see her contemplation before she waved her hand again and Ava squealed in delight. Everyone of the teachers at the table looked at her incredulously but her eyes were darting between Lauren’s head and the stage.

“450 going once, going twice, and…” Before Ava could even finish, Lauren shot to her feet and called out. 

“500!” Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock. 

“What?” Y/n asked in shock. Eyes goes to Ava in alarm. $500 for a date with her was absolutely insane. Anyone willing to pay that had to b crazy.

“Sold!” Ava grinned. And the room erupted in applause.

-

Melissa was sulking in her seat when Y/n finally returned to table. She couldn’t believe she’d been outbid like that. Part of her was happy considering she wasn’t really prepared for the financial consequences of this little auction, but that didn’t make her forget the date Y/n would be going on with Lauren. Everyone else was scattered around the gym. Dancing with their dates, eating the refreshments, or playing the various valentine’s day them games that they had set up. The redhead didn’t look up when the younger teacher joined her but she knew exactly who had joined her even without looking.

“Damn red, if you wanted to go out with me that bad you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have charged $500 for one night. I might’ve made you cook for me, but five big ones is asking a bit much especially when I actually like you.” Y/n said taking a sip of the punch they were serving. Melissa gazed at the younger woman a little dumbfounded but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk. “Lauren and I are gonna go mini golfing Saturday morning, yuck I know. But I was thinking you and I could do dinner Saturday, if you’re not busy. That way I can get that out of the way. Do you she’ll try to kill me? I’m a little scared and I know I said there were no cons but that was before she basically jumped on the table to ensure she could spend $500 on an hour of my time…” Y/n continued to ramble. 

Melissa had no choice but to laugh as she listened. “Is this you asking me out?” The older woman finally interrupted, trying to play it cool. 

“I didn’t think I needed to ask you formally, since you almost spent $1,000 to keep me from going out with someone else.” Y/n grinned as she finally faced Melissa. 

“Oh you’re exaggerating now.” Melissa scoffed as her cheeks heated a bit. 

“Well duh, who else can say they had a Philly eleven start a bidding war over them. I’m going to milk this as much as I can. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. Melissa Schemmenti almost emptied her bank account for me.”

“Oh shut it will you.” Melissa groaned and shoved the younger teacher playfully. “The answer is yes. Even if you don’t think you need to ask me formally. I’d love to do dinner Saturday night. And any other night you’d like.” 

“Good. Cause I can be very hungry. And all I’ve heard is that you’re like the best cook in Philly.” Y/n grinned scooting her folding chair over closer to Melissa’s. 

“Oh you’re in for a treat. And a Schemmenti meal is worth well over five hundred bucks.” Melissa teased. 

“Yeah, well so are you Red.” Y/n smiled softly leaning over to kiss Melissa’s blushing cheek sweetly. 

Outbid but extremely happy.

#lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary x reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #msschemmenti

[felassan]

I was sent a link to a ‘chat with Mark Darrah' interview video that I hadn’t seen before. [here is the source] link. the interview took place in 2022, so bear that in mind when listening, but it still has interesting insights and things in there.

the rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

this post is just some brief notes and a few transcribed quotes of interest from the video.

Mark ofc was in charge of DA:O, DAII, & DA:I, then, quote, “then a bunch of malarkey happened” and he ended up in charge of Anthem in 2017 in its final ~16 months

In AAA games narrative is a certain thing that was very much defined in a lot of ways by BioWare

There’s a BioWare story in Anthem (though certainly not its best), if you just ignore everything else

The average gamer puts way too much stock into what engine is used to make a game

Mark is pretty sure that the guts of Neverwinter Nights is underneath the Witcher engine

Moving DA from Aurora to Eclipse to Frostbite (engines) opened up more possibility spaces

Frostbite stagnated because it essentially was the engine everyone had to use at EA

Before DA:I, there was a game at BioWare internally codenamed “Blackfoot”. It was going to be a multiplayer DA game and was using Frostbite before DA:O, during the time of DAII’s late development but before DA:I started development. It never shipped as it got eaten by DA:I

For the MET, Casey was originally trying to make a Star Control-type game but cinematic. Echoes of this can be seen in ME1. But ME the IP itself wants to be a space opera. Ultimately the cinematic experience side of it won out

And some specific quotes:

“Something that I noticed is that, sometimes, if your studio is hiring only your biggest fans, which I saw at BioWare sometimes, those people are in some ways, they’re almost more, they have more zealotry towards the ‘old way’ of doing things than – that’s right, that [from a fandom point of view] is all they know. And they don’t necessarily know that this was awful or that ‘there could have been a better way, we just didn’t see it until later’. All they know is, ‘this is what you did, and you made this thing I love, so we have to do that too’, and, so that’s a danger that could happen is, you get the, you know the monkeys and the bananas, like, ‘I don’t even know why we’re doing this anymore, but I know we’ve always done it.’”

-

“The biggest reason to consolidate on an engine is for the ability to share more work within your studio. In theory.” “The problem that often happens is that you end up with not nearly as much sharing as you would imagine. FIFA doesn’t share anything with DA. And in BioWare’s case it’s even worse than that, there’s very little sharing between DA:I and ME:A, and between ME:A and Anthem. A lot of troubles ME:A and Anthem had is [because of] not building upon the foundations of DA:I.”

-

“My great frustration of BioWare from around 2013 to basically today [2022], there wasn’t a building upon the past.” “30% of DA:I’s tech budget was spent on tooling. On ME:A they didn’t build upon the tools that were laid by DA:I, partially because they started before DA:I shipped, but also for ‘Not Build Here’ reasons. They spent 10-15% approximately of their budget on tools. Anthem didn’t build on either of these foundations and they spent about less than 10% of their budget on tools. So it was like they were going backwards, respecting the engine less and less as they went forward, resulting in more and more struggles happening.” “I have the most sarcastic PowerPoint presentation ever which compares those two games, which are treated as if they’re widely different things. They’re pretty much exactly the same game, from the perspective of any external observer. ME is more like DA than it is like anything else. So it’s ridiculous. The answer is hubris, is the answer.”

-

On endings and the future:

“I think you have to do something [about the endings]. ME was always conceived as being a trilogy, but I think what you actually end up with with ME1-3, if you kind’ve just stick them together into one ridiculously big game, that’s why it, in some ways, the complaints about the original ME3 ending are so hilarious because in a way, the game ME3 is the ending for this entire huge game, which isn’t awesome, because you know, the last Hobbit movie is also stupid because it’s all ending. So, that’s not necessarily the best, but that’s essentially what you have. So because it was intended as a trilogy, it, to some kind of degree it kind of takes its ball and goes home at the end, where its like, ‘I’m gonna render the possibility of a direct sequel to this sooo nearly impossible that it’s ludicrous’. It could be that, so we know that the Mass Relays are down, that’s also true, but, like, we have potentially, everyone’s a cyborg, potentially there are no robots, potentially, potentially, potentially, it’s bananas. But interestingly, if you look at ME1, ME2 and ME3 as a single game, and then you look at DA:O, DA:O was always, was originally envisioned as a standalone game. There was never even a consideration for a sequel made for that. If you look at DA:O and then look at what it does at its ending, so the ending of the game itself is fairly tight, it’s like, well you definitely have to kill the Arch Demon, and you’ve ended the Blight, but then you go through the end credits stuff, the epilogue screens. And it’s like, maybe there’s a civil war happening in Orzammar, maybe there are werewolves spreading across this entire part of Ferelden, maybe there are no werewolves at all. Like it’s similar. Now what DA, the way that DA approached the solution to that was to canonize some of those choices, but for the most part just move away, far enough physically, so it’s like, okay, well maybe there are werewolves down south there, that’s not my problem, I got my own problems. Or it moves through time, which is one of the reasons why DA2 moves through so much time is, it gives distance from DA:O. One of the major reasons why ME:A is literally hundreds of years in the future and in another galaxy, it’s like, okay, well, something happened, [shrug], we can react if we want to but we don’t have to worry about the consequences. DA has had the same problem that ME had, just to a lesser degree. DA:O did such a great job of building up the Warden that people are really attached to that and they keep wanting to see the Warden come back. People are never gonna let go of Shepard. DA, new player characters every time because it allows things to be done, but there are costs to that, if you don’t have nearly the [same] attachment. I mean, there’s a reason why every single Zelda game starts with you as Link getting bonked on the head. They’ve essentially solved the problem, reset button, either you have amnesia or you’re like the great-great-great-great-grandson. So it’s like, maybe there’s a way that they can do something like that, but Zelda’s jumped through a lot of hoops that probably a modern game can’t be allowed to do. You’re “Link”, so maybe there’s a way that you can be Shepard but, but Shepard, you can be “Shepard”, maybe there’s a way you can do that, but yeah, it’ll be interesting, it’s definitely a problem that they have. Because certainly, Ryder from ME:A is not the same character, nor could any character from a single game compete with a character from three games. Maybe the approach is, you canonize the choices from MET and you say, ‘and the choice we’re making is, Shepard made it, and you’re Shepard. [shrug]”

-

“I think there is a lot of DNA of its older games still at BioWare, but you’re right. Every game needs to be a game in its moment. It needs to be appropriate to the time and space of what’s going on. So, I get it, you kind of just want to feel the thing you felt when you played ME2 or feel the thing you felt when you played DA:O.” “If suddenly you got an ME2 again magically appearing out of the ether, I don’t think it would be received the same way. The industry isn’t in the same place. BioWare needs to set a new bar.” “The sad truth is, the older you get, the less relevant a part of the buying demographic you are. So the reality is, I mean ME:A had a shaky launch unfortunately, but it’s a lot of peoples’ favorite ME. Mostof those people who it is their favorite ME are younger people because it targets, you know, it’s got a younger PC, it’s got a stronger, more. I mean, the MET is very much, Shepard is a hero from action movies from the 80s and 90s, for millennials. He’s stoic. Whereas Ryder is definitely, he’s much more a protagonist from a CW show. The reality is is that, sorry, but they’re not trying to make it for you anymore.”

[source and full watch link where you can check it out]

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #mass effect #mass effect: andromeda #next mass effect #anthem #video games #longpost #long post #(ty for sending the link!)

[yunhobug]

Ateez reaction: sexual tension

“We aren’t just friends and you know it”

W: there's some suggestive themes and the members have some perverted thoughts, there's also small mentions of food in yunho's/yeosang’s

This also isn't proofread

Seonghwa

Seonghwa had not been paying attention to the time, this was a common occurrence when he was with you. He had asked you to come over to hang out and by the time the night had progressed the two of you had found yourself in the pool of his parent's back yard.

It was dark out by now, the water only being illuminated by the porch light. He couldn’t help but notice the way you looked under the moon, perched on the side of the pool with your legs in the water. He let his eyes trail over the smoothness of your legs up to the swell of your hips and thighs. Up to your chest and neck, the exposed skin seemed too tempting to him.

“Hwa? are you even listening to me?” His eyes snapped back up to your eyes, watching them squint in slight irritation.

“Sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?”

“I was saying, it’s getting pretty late so I was thinking of heading out.” You looked over at him watching his eyes dim at your confession.

“Right of course, let me get you a towel.” As Seonghwa made his way out of the water you couldn’t help but notice the way the water dripped from his broad shoulders or the way he pushed his wet hair out of his face. Seonghwa had always been attractive but why had you only noticed now.

You stood to meet him as he handed a towel out to you, grabbing it though he hadn’t let go yet. Seonghwa had looked up at you through his wet bangs, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips before moving back up to your eyes. He licked his own before pushing his chin up higher.

“Yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow, at dinner with the rest of the boys.”

Friends don’t look at each other like that.

Hongjoong

The study room you and Hongjoong had reserved was small, It was a last-minute idea to meet up and there were only so many spots open.

"Here, take a look at my notes, I copied the diagram from the PowerPoint."

Hongjoong leaned into you, sliding his notebook closer to yours. With your shoulders being pushed together you could smell Hongjoongs cologne, it was strong and invaded all your senses. You probably would have complained about how strong it was, if it hadn't happened to smell so pleasant.

"Perfect thank you, the professor talks too fast I'm never able to write down very much." he chuckled softly before placing a hand on your knee, a nice warming feeling spread through your body at the action, why?

It wasn't until Hongjoong looked up at you did he notice how close you were, he could feel your soft breath on his own face, you seemed to notice this as well. He backed up a bit removing his hand from your leg before releasing an awkward cough.

You were quick to look down at the notebook making quick work to look busy.

Hongjoong scratched at the back of his neck, trying to preoccupy his hands, he looked all around the room taking particular interest in the ceiling tiles.

Had it always been this hot in here?

Yunho

"Hey Yunho, you don't mind if a friend of mine joins us for lunch do you? I had to drop some notes off for them and figured they could sit with us for a bit."

San was quite the social butterfly, and while Yunho had met a lot of his friends, it seemed there was an endless supply of them.

"No, I don't mind." Walking into the cafe, they were motioned over to a table by you. Waving over at San with a giant smile on your face.

Cute.

"Hey y/n, this is my friend Yunho, Yunho this is y/n." San quickly noticed the slight smirk on his friend's face, choosing to ignore teasing him. He was too hungry to indulge in the trouble.

"I got us all drinks and snacks, I hope you like coffee Yunho, I wasn't sure what to get you." He watched as you passed him a small muffin on a napkin and a drink, taking notice of your small hands, and the way they could barely wrap around the cup.

It was then he noticed how tiny you actually were, he didn't realize he was staring until he saw you sit straighter up in your chair.

"Oh yeah, coffee's fine! Sorry I got lost in thought." He pulled the cup out of your hands letting your fingers brush against each other.

You looked up at him, almost forgetting San sitting next to you. He was tall, like extremely tall. Even sitting down he towered over you.

You looked down at his hands as they wrapped around the coffee cup, not stopping your thoughts from running wild about what else they could wrap around.

Yeosang

It had been the monthly movie night, this time the group had elected Yeosang and Wooyoung's apartment as the location. Their couch was the comfiest. By now everyone had left and Wooyoung had retreated to his room, leaving only Yeosang and you.

Though he was tired Yeosang was on edge, you had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he was too scared to move and wake you.

You looked so calm though uncomfortable with how your head was angled against his shoulder.

"You're going to drive me crazy one day, you know that?" Yeosang spoke more to himself than you.

"What did you say?" He froze, you were awake? Did you hear him?

You had moved away from him too tired to realize you had been sleeping on him.

"It's late, you can stay here if you want? I wouldn't want you walking across campus in the dark."

You found yourself staring at his lips while he spoke, they were pretty, all of Yeosang was pretty.

"Uh yeah, I can sleep on the couch, thanks Yeo." He was staring as well, too entranced with your tired eyes as they tried to focus on him, the way your messy hair was falling in your face.

He wanted nothing more than to push it out of the way but chose to keep his hands to himself.

"It's okay, I don't mind sharing my bed, it's a lot comfier than the couch."

"Are you sure?"

He knew it was selfish but he wanted to hold you, feel you against his skin, there was something so tempting about seeing you so vulnerable, all for him.

San

San was sweating bullets. Jongho and Yunho had insisted you guys go on the biggest roller coaster at the amusement park, and from the looks you were sending him, you weren't too fond of the idea either.

As the two of you had sat down in the train car San had made sure to give you a once over, were you as scared as him or more?

During his looking he couldn't help but notice the shorts you were wearing had ridden up a bit. Exposing the supple flesh of your thighs pooling from the tight constraints of the material.

He couldn't help his mind from wandering, imaging how beautiful you would look with your thighs covered in his marks.

He was quickly shaken from his thoughts as the coaster started up, you were startled and quickly grabbed for his hand.

San's brain was jumbled up, you were holding his hand, he scolded himself for being so childish. Especially with the perverted thoughts, he was having previously.

You shouldn't think about your friends that way.

San made sure to squeeze your hand tighter during all the drops and fast parts of the ride.

Once the coaster had come to a stop he didn't realize he was still gripping your hand till you had spoken up.

"I appreciate you for doing that for me San, but the ride is over now, you can let go."

A pink blush spread up his neck and face, "Oh sorry, let's get off this thing." He worked to laugh off his embarrassment.

"it's okay, I liked it, you have nice hands."

Oh, you were going to drive him crazy for sure.

Mingi

Mingi had always been shy around you, nobody really knew why. The truth was Mingi had a massive crush on you, and he wasn't quite sure how to act. You were just so beautiful and adventurous. He loved your easygoing nature and light-hearted humor.

In Mingi's eyes, you were perfect for him.

You had come into the cafe where he worked, hoping to catch some time with him before your class had started.

You had always thought Mingi was cute, from his bright gummy smile to the way his cheeks would heat up at any flirtatious comment you made.

But you especially loved the big thick square-framed glasses that sat across the bridge of his nose. They fit his face well and made his eyes pop.

"Hey, Min! When is your break? I was hoping we could hang for a bit."

Mingi had looked up quickly, dropping the cup he was currently writing on, obviously startled by your entrance.

His ears started to turn red with embarrassment, taking a quick once over of your appearance.

You were dressed comfortably, and he couldn't help but acknowledge the swell of pride rising in his chest seeing you clad in the hoodie you stole from him.

"Yeah I can take my break now, we can sit for a bit."

After sitting down you couldn't help but admire the boy's face, "hey Mingi, can I try on your glasses?"

"Um sure?" He pulled the thick frames off his face before handing them to you, watching you place them on the bridge of your nose.

Oh, he realized now, you looked so cute. His glasses were big on your face, and your brows were furrowed at the blurry lenses.

You couldn't really see him, but he could see you, watching you look around the cafe and honestly all he could think about in that moment was kissing you.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had been teaching you how to ride his skateboard. You had always wanted to learn and when you asked him for help he just couldn't say no.

You were quite good at it but inevitably you quite a few slips and falls. One of which caused a large scrape on your knee, the wound starting to bleed.

"Let's go back to my place, I can patch that up for you."

Wooyoung wouldn't admit it but he was really excited you asked him to teach you. You were a friend of Hongjoong's and the two of you recently become close. Wooyoung also thought you were one of the most attractive people he had ever met.

So he would take any excuse to be around you, especially when he got to hold you and help you try to ride his board.

The two of you had gotten back to Wooyoung's apartment and he was quick to bring you to the bathroom. You sat yourself on the counter while he went to find the first aid kit.

This was the first time you had been in his apartment, and from the sounds of it, the two of you were alone. A small spark of anticipation had gone through you at that knowledge.

Once Wooyoung had returned he helped roll up your pant leg before pulling out some alcohol wipes and bandaids.

Wooyoung had slotted himself between your thighs, too preoccupied to notice the position he was in.

"This might hurt a little bit, I'm sorry about that."

He placed the wipe onto the wound before starting to clean it up. At the stinging pain invading your senses, you grabbed his other arm, trying to distract yourself.

It was then he looked up at you, noticing the position the two of you were in. There was something quite suggestive about the situation. His mind ran wild, noticing the way your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth hanging open. The grip you had on his shoulder and the proximity he had to you made him spiral.

It felt selfish but Wooyoung had hoped you might get hurt again just so he could see you this way, just once more.

Jongho

Jongho was strong. You had always known that about him, no matter how shy he got when you made a comment about it. Jongho also loved spending time with you, so when you asked him to go to the gym with you he was quick to agree.

What you didn't realize was how distracted you were going to be while trying to run a few miles on the treadmill. He had been using the rowing machine a small distance from and you couldn't help but try to steal a few glimpses.

The tight fitted t-shirt he had on was doing little for the imagination. His sweat dripped off his forehead and you might of thought it was gross if you weren't oogling him at that moment.

Of course Jongho wasn't innocent in this situation either. He knew you were looking over at him, he could feel your subtle gaze and it only made him want to push himself harder. He wanted to impress you, with just how strong he really was.

He didn't want to over analyze the situation and think that maybe his feelings weren't as one sided as he previously perceived. You were stunning in his eyes, intelligent, and so warm-hearted he couldn't help but fall for your charms.

So maybe, just maybe he should take his shot, you guys had gone to the gym late and nobody was there. Plus if this went in his favor, he knew his roommate Seonghwa wasn't going to be home till morning.

"Hey y/n, if you take a picture it'll last a bit longer."

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #boyfriend ateez #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #honeyslibrary

[hijinxinprogress]

Young Justice watches one piece together

They argue constantly over which pirate crew they are and none of them can agree

They’ve all made up power moves based on one piece

Every one piece backstory has Cissie, Kon, and Greta sobbing and dry heaving while an amused Cassie tries to console them

Whenever Robin says something morbid offhandedly they all turn and look at Tim who’s immediate response is ‘it’s not like she’s wrong-‘ while Anita agrees with him

During Momonosuke’s backstory, they all just stare at Bart bc he goes ‘hey it’s me’ while giggling which ended with Greta sobbing

Cassie compared Mr. Sarcastic to Sniper King & Tim made a powerpoint with over 300 slides explaining why they’re wrong

Cissie and Anita will explain in detail why they’d never lose to a devilfruit user (all of their plans involve drowning) while Greta points out the weak points in their plans

The entire team will wordlessly gesture to Tim whenever Nami or Usopp are lying, undercover, or just straight up doing shady shit

“My name’s Kon and I ate the tact-tact fruit now I have tactile telekinesis which means-” “stfu I don’t mention my powers that much” “yes tf you do” “wE dOn’T hAvE tO WoRrY mY tTk will-” “now it’s a crime to share things about myself with my friends??” “if I have to hear about your ttk again I don’t want to be friends”

Whenever it’s mentioned that characters parents are dead/abusive/estranged they all make fun of each other for being orphans or belonging to otherwise dysfunctional families

Bart was compared to the tontatta tribe for the entirety of Dressrosa and still gets shit for it

whenever a character explains their devil fruit it doesn’t matter if it’s once or every time their on screen, they look at Kon who’s very adamant that he does not sound like that

Cissie has threatened physical violence in response to being compared to both Uta and Yamato

Brook hadn’t even been on screen for five minutes before they had to pause bc Tim ordered Greta a piano while entire team compared Greta and Brook for over an hour

They referred to Tim as yj’s chief of staff for months, they had Bart change his position on young justice to chief of staff in his fucking file

Anita once told Cissie that her insults took little imagination much like the nickname’s Luffy gives people he doesn’t like

Then they teamed up to fight Tim who mentioned that their arguments were reminiscent of Zoro and Sanji’s

They compare each other to one piece characters all the time and it’s not in a friendly “haha hey you and this character like the same food” but evil ass shit that you’d have to fight someone for saying

“Another orphan!” “mf your parents are dead too!” “I don’t know why you’re giggling, yours aren’t even dead and they don’t want you”

“Big Mom and Pudding’s relationship is sorta like you and Superman” cue Kon pointedly sideyeing Bart and Bart jumping up to point at Tim with both hands who doesn’t even look away from the screen to point at Cissie 

“You see Luffy rn? That’s what Tim was like when Kon and Bart died, that’s what you left me to deal with” “You were like that too!”

“Oh, wow Brook also joined a cult after being separated from his friends” “separated?! mf I died” “tim YOU JOINED THE LEAGUE” “we’re all technically-” “no ra’s al ghul’s league” “TIM…tim what the hell”

“Do you think you and Sanji flirt with everyone in your immediate vicinity bc you need someone to validate your existence and you know your father never will?”

“You and Sanji have the same dumbass taste in code names” “wdym??” “red robin….soba mask” “soba mask is objectively worse??” “is it really though”

“Anita, wasn’t your grandfather also complicit in your parents death??” “more like directly responsible but fuck you”

“Anyone else seeing the similarities between Sterry and Sabo with Tim and Damian??”

“You and Bepo both apologize for existing, do you think he does it bc his mom doesn’t love him or is that just you?”

“A stoic badass with a sword-” “it’s not a fucking sword-” “-did I say I was done? that never had any semblance of a normal childhood so their trust issues and short temper are 74% of their personality” “I just want you to know I have your address” “proving my point rn”

“Has anyone else noticed that Greta and Baby5 will fall in love with any moron that gives them the slightest bit of positive attention?” Tim and Greta making offended noises but not disagreeing 

“Dead parents, fanboy, hates life, idiot friends, 37 complicated ass convoluted fucking plans with a million steps for a simple ass mission, and gets a little too aggressive when their plans aren’t being followed, am I talking about Law or Tim?” “you’re my idiot friends, you fuCKING-” “see!?”

“Kon, you fly and some psycho created then abandoned you along with ruining your self-esteem” “the fucking CLOUD??? why wouldn’t it fly you goddamn asshole” “that’s your issue?!” “well maybe you shouldn’t say dumb shit to me”

“Hey, Zoro also has dead childhood friends-” “why don’t you go-”

“Look, an impulsive moron doing reckless shit in a whole ass suit with absent/abusive parents from a wealthy background, does this sad adrenaline junkie remind you of anyone?” “yeah you you fucking moron-” “what fucking money do I have-” “he means lex” “well, I also said suit you ever see me in a fucking suit, genius?” “You didn’t specify what kind of suit, genius”

“Do you think you and zoro are so mistrusting of others bc you had to take care of yourselves from a young age??” 

“You ever think about the fact that every adult in you and robins life disappointed you when you needed them?” “which robin?” “either tbh” “okay, fuck all of you”

#young justice watches one piece #young justice #young just us #anita fite #dc empress #greta hayes #dc secret #bart allen #impulse #dc impulse #cassie sandsmark #wonder girl #kon el #kon kent #superboy #cissie king jones #arrowette #dc comics #source: i made it the fuck up

[echo-bleu]

your smile tells me I'm safe

4k, also on AO3, first part of my modern Russingon QPR AU on that tree I'll carve your name.

“I’m in love with you,” Fingon says one morning in September.

Maedhros is perched on the couch’s armrest, bent down, struggling to tie his laces. It’s something he can normally do easily, if slowly, his stump pressed against the loops as he forms them with his hand. But on some days, his shoulder protests the twist it requires, and he can’t quite get his forearm at the right angle. That’s why he has several pairs of boots that zip up instead, but today is the first staff meeting of the autumn semester, and he wants to wear his nice shoes.

He looks up at Fingon as the words sink in. His unbound hair makes a curtain in front of his eyes, and he can only see parts of him, the hand on his shoulder bag, the golden beads in his perfectly braided hair, his hesitant, expectant smile.

His face falls the longer Maedhros takes to answer. They’re running late for the meeting, and there’s a lead weight in Maedhros’s gut that pulls painfully as words fail to form on his lips. I’m in love with you too, the words are right there, but it’s like someone has sucked all the sound out of him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it,” Fingon says, too fast, too high-pitched, a garble of words Maedhros’s brain can barely decipher. “It’s the worst possible moment, but I’ve been waiting and there’s never a right one and you looked so lovely with your hair hanging like that and—”

He stops to draw a breath, shaky and panicked. Maedhros still feels strangled, but he gives up on his laces and shakes off the shoes to cross the room. He cups Fingon’s chin to make him look up.

“It’s okay, I just.” He stops there, abruptly, with no idea what to say. “Need time,” he finishes after a moment, but the pause hangs between them like a condemnation.

Fingon gives him a brave smile. “Okay,” he says. “Take all the time you need.”

But his posture is tight like he already knows how it’s going to go. He expects Maedhros to turn him down – of course he does. To push him away again, this time for good. He expects Maedhros to ask him to move out, or to pine until they drift apart because of the awkwardness.

Maedhros wants to reassure him, but the only things that come to mind are platitudes – it doesn’t change anything, whatever happens we will stay friends – and they will sound far too much like no, I don’t love you back. And if he knows one thing, it’s that it isn’t true.

So he goes to get his zip boots from his closet and they walk out of the flat in silence. Fingon won’t meet his eyes, and he’s careful not to touch him at any point as they board the metro together.

They make it to the meeting on time, somehow, and they sit together through three powerpoint presentations and an hour of arguing because they always do, and Maedhros doesn’t absorb a single thing that has been said.

I’m in love with you.

The words run on loop inside his head, leaving no room for anything else.

It’s not a surprise, not really. Fingon had a crush on him even back before the accident, according to Káno. They’ve grown very close since reconnecting, and his brothers have teased him about it more than once. Looking back, the signs are there. Maedhros should have seen it coming.

And he does love Fingon back, doesn’t he?

Once home, after another awkward metro ride, he lies down on his bed and stares at the ceiling, the question running in his mind.

The reality of it is that he doesn’t know. He loves Fingon as a friend, as his best friend, there’s no doubt about that. He loves hanging out with him, watching movies on the couch together and working side by side on their laptops. He loves how they laugh together about the most ridiculous things, how Fingon beams at him whenever they cross paths at uni even though they’ve already seen each other in the morning.

He wants to be there to comfort him when he has a bad day. He wants Fingon to be there for him when he has a bad day. He wants to celebrate their victories together, and commiserate on the small annoyances, and hug each other through the hard times.

He can barely imagine his life without Fingon in it. He doesn’t want a life without Fingon in it.

Is that being in love?

And if it is, then why couldn’t he say it back?

He tries to say it out loud, alone in his bedroom. I’m in love with you. The words still won’t make it past his lips.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he gets up again and goes to cook dinner.

*

The next day, Maedhros’s shoulder hurts enough that he is forced to use his sling. It means that Fingon doesn’t push, doesn’t ask him anything more. He is as he always is on those days – worried and considerate, and there’s almost no awkwardness. He smoothly anticipates Maedhros’s needs, and if there is a slightly different quality to his posture when they spend the evening on the couch, Maedhros’s head on his lap, well, Maedhros is in too much pain to notice.

It lasts almost three days, leaving Maedhros exhausted for another two. There is no energy to spare for feeling guilty, though Fingon’s words are still in his mind. Fingon grows stiffer with him – not purposefully, but he stares at Maedhros’s back at lot, and he’s quick to look away when Maedhros turns around. Several times, for no discernable reason, he stands up and walks out of the living room, going to work in his bedroom instead.

It’s Sunday by the time Maedhros feels well enough to get out of the flat for any length of time. Feeling cooped up, he goes for a walk, but the sky starts pouring when he’s only made it around the corner. By the time he makes it back home, he’s drenched.

Fingon looks up from where he’s typing on his laptop on the couch. Seeing Maedhros dripping on the welcome mat like a wet dog, he starts laughing.

It’s a beautiful sound.

“That’s right, make fun of my misery,” Maedhros rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling.

He runs his hand through his dripping hair to get it out of his face, and Fingon’s smile slowly wanes, a thoughtful, sad look taking its place. This has happened too many times in the last week. Fingon hasn’t brought it up again, but it’s obvious that he’s thinking about it.

Maedhros steels himself as he dries his hair with a towel in the bathroom and changes. While he’s not Fingon, who tends to run head-first into danger, he’s never been one to avoid the things that scare him. He can do this. Fingon deserves an explanation, at the very least.

“What you said the other day,” he starts as soon as he comes out of the bathroom. “Are you certain?”

Fingon startles, looks at him, closes his laptop and takes a breath. “Of course. But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”

He doesn’t sound as if anything about this is okay, but he’s trying. He’s just never been a good liar. His hands are restless, pulling on one of his braids compulsively.

Maedhros sighs and sits down in the armchair across from the couch. “I can’t be with you in that way.”

He’s half-proud of the way his voice didn’t waver, but Fingon looks gutted, and all of his pride immediately fades away.

“May I—” Fingon says, working his jaw and looking anywhere but at him. “May I ask why?”

Maedhros thinks of all the excuses he’s constructed in his head. That relationships between roommates often end in disaster. That they’re basically cousins, and their fathers hate each other, and it would be terrible for the family unity. That Fingon is already taking care of him far too often as it is, that Maedhros and his chronic pain and his missing hand and his depression would make a terrible partner. They are all true.

They’re also just excuses.

“Because,” he says. He pushes his still-damp hair out of his face. “Because you’re lovely, and kind, and brave, and beautiful, and everything I could ever want, and I love you, but… I can’t give you what you want.”

Fingon frowns, now biting on his nails. “I don’t want anything except for you.”

“No, I can’t—I can’t be the person you deserve.”

“I don’t understand.”

Maedhros sighs. There they are. He takes a deep breath, looking at his lap.

“You deserve someone who can love you back, fully, who can be with you in every way, and I don’t—I don’t have it in me. I just don’t… It’s not there. Something in me is broken. I don’t know if it’s the depression, or the trauma, or if I was born this way, but I can’t give you that, and you deserve better than someone who can’t love you properly.” He swallows a sob on the last word. “I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Fingon stares, and doesn’t say anything. Maedhros can’t tell if he’s shocked, or disgusted, or simply waiting for him to pull himself back together. He buries his face in his hands.

He works on the breathing exercises he learned in therapy for a minute, in silence. When he feels calm enough to look up, Fingon is still staring at him, his head slightly tilted, as if trying to solve a mystery.

“Maedhros,” he says slowly. “Are you aromantic?”

Maedhros blinks. His brain halts to a stop.

Is he?

“I—” He gestures helplessly. “I don’t know?”

“It means you don’t experience romantic attraction to people,” Fingon explains helpfully, but Maedhros already knows that.

It never seemed like a very useful description to him. What does it even mean? Is he supposed to get butterflies in his stomach? That’s just an overly dramatic metaphor from teenage romance novels, surely adult relationships are about something else…

Right?

“Ah,” he says, because he can’t think about anything else.

“It would be okay,” Fingon says, still trying to be helpful. “If you are.”

Maedhros thinks about that, and he definitely can’t dig into it deeper without getting overwhelmed. He puts his head in his hands again. Breathes.

“Maedhros.”

He looks up. Fingon has stood up from the couch, and he looks like he wants to come closer, but he doesn’t. He starts pacing instead, in a tiny line down the length of the couch, four steps forward and a turn. Then he sits down again.

“What I’m hearing,” he says, enunciating carefully, “is that you’re perhaps not attracted to me romantically, but you think you could have been if you were wired that way. Which suggests that you are perhaps attracted to me in other ways?”

Maedhros feels himself blush. “Um, not… not—”

“Sexually? No, I already know you’re ace, I’m not expecting you to— Wait,” he stops himself when Maedhros’s eyes bulge out. “Are you not ace?”

“I—”

Fingon grimaces. “I assumed because of how you’re always avoiding the subject, but I should have asked, sorry.”

“No, I… I don’t—”

Maedhros searches for words for an awkward moment before Fingon finally catches on. “Valar, you don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I know what ace is,” Maedhros says. “I just. Don’t know what I am.”

Fingon bursts out laughing. Maedhros watches him uncomprehendingly, still reeling from the new thoughts hammering in his brain.

“I’m sorry, this is totally inappropriate,” Fingon says, wiping his eyes. “I just… Only you. You’re proudly out as queer, you go to pride, you’ve known that you’re nonbinary for – how long?”

Maedhros hesitates. That is, somehow, something they’ve never really talked about. Fingon took it in stride when Maedhros came out to him, but they never really dug into the subject. “When—when you came out, and Ñolo wasn’t… great about it, I started researching, you know, studies and articles about gender, so I could make sure I was informed and maybe send them to him.”

He feels his cheeks heat up. Fingon’s amused grin turns into a beaming smile, lighting up his face. “For me?”

“Of course. It took me a couple years to really start questioning it for myself, and by then…”

“We weren’t speaking any more.”

“Yeah.”

He opens his mouth to apologize, for the hundredth time, but Fingon holds up a hand. “And in all that time, all that research, you never heard about aromanticism?”

“No, I did. I know what it is, I just…”

I just didn’t think it could be me. I just thought I was broken. He doesn’t say it out loud.

He’s not convinced that it isn’t the truth of it. That there are the real aromantics, the ones who are perfectly valid in their (lack of) orientation, and there’s him, the imposter. It took him years and dozens of hours of therapy to accept his gender – he still slides back on the regular, feeling like he’s claiming a label that he has no right to. This – this is too much.

“Whatever I am, whatever – it doesn’t matter,” he says. “It doesn’t change anything for you.”

Fingon worries at his lower lip. “Putting words on it helps. And it means…” he hesitates. “It means it’s not me you can’t love.”

He’s fiddled with the bead at the end of one of his braids so much that it’s coming apart. Maedhros sighs. “It’s not you,” he confirms. “If I could want someone, anyone… It would be you.”

He wonders, suddenly, if Fingon will want to keep his distance now, if trying to get over him (how do you get over love?) will mean staying away. The thought slithers inside his throat and swells until he can barely breathe.

The idea of losing Fingon…

Fingon is following his own train of thoughts, and giving him a sad smile. “I’m glad to know that,” he says softly.

“Is this— Does this mean—” Maedhros can’t even ask. He runs his hand through his hair, pulling hard at the ends.

“I don’t know,” Fingon says. “It depends on what it means for you, I suppose.”

Maedhros frowns. “How?”

“If you can’t feel attraction to me, does it mean that you also don’t want a relationship? It doesn’t have to be romantic, or sexual.”

“What else is there? You’re already my best friend, unless you don’t want to—”

“No!” Fingon almost shouts. Maedhros blinks at him, surprised. “Not that, I’ll always be your friend if that’s what you want,” he says more softly, but no less forcefully.

“Oh,” Maedhros murmurs, only now noticing how fast his heart is beating. That eases some of his dread. “Good. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

“Me neither. Never.”

Fingon looks close to tears. Maedhros wants to hug him. He makes an aborted gesture toward him with his stump, to check if it would be welcome, and Fingon opens his arms.

Gratefully, Maedhros switches from his armchair – which suddenly feels too far away – to the couch beside Fingon. Fingon scoots over so that Maedhros can be on his right, and slide his left arm across his back. He’s careful of Maedhros’s shoulder when he returns the hug, nuzzling Maedhros’s neck.

“I’m not letting go of you,” he murmurs. “No matter what.”

Then he raises his head again. “Some aro people have queer-platonic relationships. I think. I’m not exactly knowledgeable, but we could research. Is that something you’d want?”

Maedhros gives himself a minute to think about it properly, running his fingers up and down Fingon’s arm. He tries to push away the intrusive thoughts – you’re just broken, you’ll never be good enough for him, he’s generous enough to give you the benefit of the doubt – and actually considers the question.

“I don’t know,” he says.

The thing is – the thing is, he doesn’t think he would want any kind of relationship, aside from friendship, with anyone else than Fingon. So what does that make him?

And Fingon… Fingon is normal, and beautiful and smart and kind, and he could have anyone he wanted. He shouldn’t have to settle for someone like Maedhros.

“Fingon,” he says slowly, prompting him to meet his eyes. “I love you, and I want you in my life more than anything, but you still deserve better. You deserve someone who can love you for real.”

“Oh, Mae.” Fingon reaches up to push his hair back behind his ears. “It doesn’t make your love any less real.”

“But I can’t love you the way you love me.”

Fingon shrugs. “I don’t care. I just want you. From where I’m standing, this just means that we get to define our relationship in whatever way we want. We can just throw other people’s expectations out of the window. I don’t need romance. I don’t need sex. We can figure out what we like together.”

“So if we just continue as we have, you’d be satisfied?”

He smiles. “Without being afraid that you’ll bolt if you find out my feelings? Without feeling like I’m lying every time I look at you? Yes. I don’t need more than that. I just want to be with you.”

“With me,” Maedhros repeats, trying to taste what that would feel like.

Fingon turns to lean against his chest, propping his feet on the edge of the coffee table. “So, can we try? We can research QPRs and see how other people do it. And if nothing fits, we can just make it up.”

“I— Okay,” Maedhros whispers. “We can try.”

It feels easier, perhaps, to say it to the top of Fingon’s head, rather than to his face. He’d do anything for Fingon, but he can’t give him what just isn’t there. How long until Fingon gets bored or frustrating and realizes what he’s missing? How long until Maedhros’s lack comes between them?

But Fingon looks so relieved, relaxed in Maedhros’s arms, and they’ve been cuddling like this on the couch for months. Maybe things don’t have to change too much. They can figure this out as they go along, and if one day it’s no longer enough, then – they’ll cross that bridge when they get there.

So for now – for now, maybe.

*

“Shit!”

Maedhros looks up from his sketchbook, alarmed. He twists around to check on Fingon, who is standing in front of the sink, peeling tomatoes.

“What did you do this time?” he asks nonchalantly, when he’s determined that nothing majorly dangerous has happened.

“Nicked my finger. It’s fine, it’s just a small cut.” Fingon turns on the tap and holds his hand under the water.

“No need for stitches?”

“No, just a band-aid, maybe.”

Maedhros nods, even though Fingon has his back turned to him, and he puts down his pencil to go get band-aids and antiseptic from the bathroom cabinet.

“Give me your hand,” he says, hooking his foot around the rolling stool they keep in the kitchen area to pull it closer. He sits down and Fingon holds out his now dripping hand. Thankfully, it is only dripping water and not blood, and the cut is objectively very small. Barely enough to justify a band-aid at all, if not for the fact that Fingon will never leave it alone and keep re-opening it if it’s not protected.

Maedhros struggles a little with the box, which is not made to be opened one-handed, and takes out one of the child superhero-themed band-aids. He got them for Fingon as a joke, because he goes through boxes of bandages seemingly like candy, but Fingon unironically loves them. They already adorn several of his fingers like so many rings, little explosions of colour against his dark skin.

Maedhros slaps the newest one on his index finger and jokingly bends to kiss it better – but he lingers, just a little. Fingon doesn’t take his hand back. It lasts no more than an extra second or two, but it’s enough for Maedhros’s brain to start spinning.

Very little has changed between them since their talk. Some of the awkwardness of the last weeks has faded, and new embarrassment arises in entirely different places, but it’s all very subtle. They’ve hung out just as much as they usually do, and Fingon truly seems content with what they have.

Maedhros is still cataloguing moments. Trying to sort what counts as romantic, and what is just friendship. What the distinction even means to him. Kissing Fingon’s finger – is it a joke, or a moment of tenderness? Can it be both? Is it an issue if it’s both?

“You’re overthinking again,” Fingon says lightly.

“Ugh,” Maedhros mutters, standing up and leaning forward to gently headbutt Fingon on the way.

“Whatever feels right,” Fingon reminds him. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

“What if what feels right to me isn’t what feels right to you?”

Fingon shrugs. “If it feels wrong to either of us, we don’t do it. You just have to be honest about it.”

They’ve looked up queer-platonic relationships together, but there seems to be as many ways to be in one as there are people who are. The only requirement is, well, declaring it a relationship.

If Fingon is truly serious about this, about not wanting to seek someone who can actually love him properly, then Maedhros wants to give him at least that. Commitment.

It shouldn’t be difficult. Tyelko often jokes that Maedhros is more loyal than a dog (but then, Tyelko loves dogs more than people). He has, always, given a hundred percent of himself to those important in his life – more than was healthy, sometimes. He loves Fingon, and there is no doubt in his mind that he wants that to continue.

But he’s abandoned Fingon once. Not out of any desire to hurt him – on the contrary – but that’s how Fingon experienced it, and it stands between them even now. He pushed Fingon away, and they didn’t see each other again for almost a decade. They went through the worst times of their lives separately, because of Maedhros’s misguided desire to protect him.

Maedhros takes a breath and catches Fingon’s arm before he can turn away.

“I want a queer-platonic relationship with you,” he says – just a touch too fast, but going by the sudden glow of Fingon’s eyes, it’s still understandable.

Fingon has already made his desires clear. He’s been patiently waiting for Maedhros to express himself, never pushing.

“I don’t know what it will look like exactly,” Maedhros warns, like an apology. “I just know I want to be with you.”

Fingon beams. “I will never push you to do something you don’t want,” he promises. “We can explore. Take it slow. Not do anything different at all, if that’s what you like.”

“I—would like to hug you,” Maedhros says.

And it’s not something new, they’re both tactile with each other, but they’ve never hugged as partners before. Or whatever words they’ll end up using.

Fingon makes a noise of excitement and launches himself at Maedhros, catching himself with his arms around his neck. Maedhros would have toppled over, had he been even a little shorter or lighter. As it is, he hurriedly stabilizes himself with a hand on the counter and returns the hug, squeezing Fingon tightly against his chest.

“I love you,” Fingon says. “Is that okay to say?”

“You already said it before,” Maedhros points out.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

Maedhros squeezes him a little tighter, until Fingon squeaks in protest. They both laugh, Fingon’s head still buried in Maedhros’s shoulder.

“I love you too,” Maedhros says quietly, and it doesn’t feel romantic, or wrong, or anything but the most genuine truth. He loves Fingon. Fingon loves him.

If this is to be them, this openness and communication and mutual respect, then – then he thinks he can get used to it.

reblogs and comments make my day!

#silmarillion #silm fic #the silmarillion #maedhros #fingon #silm modern au #tolkien #russingon #tolkien fic #russingon qpr #echo's fanfiction #on that tree i'll carve your name

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Quand Tu Voudras

If anyone wants to listen to this playlist in preparation for the end of this week....... (like a Friday moment)

plus a preview for the friends <3

“You said yes.” 

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons Em, I know that. But….”

“But?” 

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I haven’t been able to replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart, and useful, and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one if you didn’t know her so well. “We had a fantastic time and you know it.” 

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a PhD. Like come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left, I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name Emily, he’s not some dark lord, he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 

“Yeah Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full powerpoint presentation with all of the pros and the cons.” 

“Yes ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. 

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had since forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once a part of a christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door, wallet in hand. 

You opened the door, opening your wallet and grabbing cash. 

“I’m…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 

“You are not the pizza guy.” 

“No. I’m not.” 

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hasn’t felt in over two years. 

“Can I–” He gestured into your house and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” 

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #Spotify

[lorna-d-m]

Chapter Four: Assigned Reading

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC (Alice Greene)

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?

Word Count: 2,050

W: mentions of drinking, bullying

A/N: In hindsight, I should have combined this chapter with the previous since they're both a touch short. However, they're both setting up for something important. I'm sorry this took almost my entire summer to write. It seems I'm more productive when I'm busy, and when I'm free I can't get anything done lol.

previous chapter

Late September, marked by the paling of green leaves to yellow and cooler temperatures, also marked three weeks of school. By this point, students and teachers alike fell into routines and began new projects. Ms. Greene assigned a variety of short stories to her students, and they completed several assignments in preparation for a class discussion. 

Knowing her students as she did, she knew talking would be no difficulty for the discussion. Would they stay on topic? Of course not, but she could always guide them back to the matter at hand. Once or twice in the past week, she needed to nip conversations in the bud, and it troubled her. 

Being a teacher meant picking and choosing her battles. Alice did not remark on every student conversation of questionable nature she overheard. If she did, she would never have any time to teach. However, when she heard rude comments about another student or anything to incite concern, Ms. Greene stepped in. 

Twice she caught members of the football team picking on Stevie, and twice she intervened. As cliche, as it sounded, she spoke to her students about respecting their classmates. Additionally, she rearranged the seating to put Stevie as far from them as possible. The third time, she discreetly asked Stevie to stay a moment after class. 

After a few weeks of school, Alice knew Dr. Kreizler’s assurances of Stevie weren’t just words. She saw how Stevie did the reading with her own eyes, knew the answer when called upon, and showed up prepared for class. True, Stevie kept to himself, but he behaved well and had yet to be spotted in silent lunch or detention. Stevie deserved to be in her class without fear of being ridiculed.

“Who do you have during sixth period?” She kept an eye on her incoming students in the hallway. They knew to wait at the door if she was talking to a student.

Stevie shifted his textbooks and binder from his left side to his right. “Bio with Ms. Sussman, why?” 

Perfect! “If you finish your work early with Ms. Sussman,” Alice almost said Bitsy rather than her surname, “Ask her if she can write a pass for you to come to my room. We can talk more then.”

“Alright,” he shrugged, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Don’t worry if you don’t have time today. I’m sure we can work something out by the end of the week.” She bit back a laugh at her good luck. Ms. Sussman. “Now go, before I make you late for your next class.”

“Uh, thanks, Ms. Greene.” 

Stevie left, and Alice hoped he didn’t have to go across the school in a minute. She waved the rest of her students who stood awkwardly by the door in, and she rewinded her powerpoint for the day. At lunch, she could ask Bitsy what her students were doing in class to find out if Stevie would have time or not. If she was lecturing, no chance, but if they did individual practice, Stevie would likely finish before the end of class.

Stevie sat in Laszlo’s office at the Institute whenever he needed to focus on his work. More often than not, the good doctor himself was busy moving from student to student, room to room, to sit in his office. He urged Stevie to sit at his desk when he needed to work, but it weirded him out. Too stuffy and heavy. 

He liked to sit by the window instead. Whenever he got bored and needed a break, he could look outside. Sometimes, he could see the kids laughing and screaming on the playground. Occasionally, Kreizler would stroll around or sit on a bench, watching how they played and taking notes. Seeing him served as a reminder to study. 

Stevie propped his heavy English textbook against the windowsill and sighed. He finished his science work with some time left over, and Ms. Sussman wrote the note surprisingly quickly after he said it was for Ms. Greene. They spoke about the situation, but he didn’t know what else she could do. She spoke to them, she rearranged the seating, and Stevie really didn’t want her to go to the counselor or an administrator or anything.

Stevie didn’t want to cause or be involved in any problems. He knew he was labeled trouble from the beginning, and there was a chance no one but Ms. Greene would believe him. People were dicks, especially Coach Connor’s favorites on the football team. No one would take the word of a teenager with a rap sheet over the star quarterback.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, so he dog-eared the textbook page and closed it. He found a group to sit with at lunch, and they added him to their group chat. They liked video games, cars, and weirdly enough to Stevie, tabletop and board games. Some horror movie was supposed to come out this weekend, and they wanted to see the midnight premier. 

He talked to Kreizler about it in the car. He’d never had friends or midnight plans before, or at least not while he had a guardian who gave a shit about him, and he felt weird asking for permission. But the good doctor encouraged the plans, even offering to drive them to the theater and drop them off. Stevie told him he didn’t have to and there was no reason for him to mess up his plans and be out that late when Mike’s mom already offered to drive. 

Of course, Stevie wasn’t going to tell him that it wasn’t Mike’s mom driving but Mike with his brand new driver’s license, with a curfew and limits still imposed. However, Stevie knew Kreizler would be sound asleep and snoring well before he was due back home.

It was an unusual Saturday night; both Laszlo and Stevie had plans. Stevie left the house in a rush to grab dinner before a midnight movie premier, and Laszlo waved him off from the foyer. In his hurry out the door, he promised to text when they were on their way back. Laszlo was pleased Stevie made friends and plans. It sounded like despite a few troubles here and there, Stevie was settling into school. 

Laszlo had a standing reservation on the last Saturday of every month for a party of three at Delmonico’s. John, Sara, and himself found if they didn’t put their plans in their calendar, it was difficult to ever see each other.  Charlie Delmonico, owner and host, grew accustomed to Laszlo’s peculiarities. He knew to reserve a corner booth on the second floor, with blue walls rather than olive or crimson. Their conversations could take hours as each person discussed their busy lives at the university and the precinct, but they were fantastic tippers. Charlie never rushed them out of their table but instead made them feel welcome. 

Laszlo arrived at the table first and took advantage of their absence, ordering his favorite lingonberry schnapps. He perused the menu in peace, mentally deciding which wine to pair with which course and what dessert to save room for until John and Sara arrived. After several tumultuous years, including John’s misguided engagement with Violet, John and Sara finally decided to be together. They moved in together a few months back, enlisting Laszlo and Stevie to help them, and Laszlo awaited the proposal. Privately, he suspected rather than John going down on one knee, it would be Sara taking the lead. 

“Laszlo! Good to see you again.” John sat down across from him and grinned. “What a hectic month it’s been, so I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”

“How are you and how are Stevie?” Sara left the menu folded in front of her. She never strayed from her standard order and hardly glanced at the menu anymore.

“Good and good, I suppose.” Laszlo refolded his napkin and set it in his lap. “Stevie seems to be settling well. He’s made friends, and he’s actually out with them tonight seeing some horror movie.”

“Exciting! Good of the kid. High school goes by much easier with friends, eh Laszlo?” John playfully nudged him, and Laszlo avoided the touch.

Sara, however, caught everything. “Seems to be, you said seems to be. So, why isn’t he?” She stirred her drink with her straw.

Laszlo sighed and leaned back in the booth. “Stevie’s teacher mentioned he’s being heckled by some boys on the football team. He hasn’t said anything to me about it, but then again, he wouldn’t. I’m hoping she and I can discuss it at the conferences in a few weeks.”

“Good,” Sara commended, “problems such as this should be dealt with quickly before they spiral out of control.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see that sly smile, you old dog.” John could be exceedingly astute when it suited him. “She?”

Perhaps it was the schnapps he drank before they arrived, but Laszlo was glad John pressed the subject. While he typically avoided discussions of feelings or romance since Mary’s passing, he wanted to talk about Alice with his friends. Laszlo was of two minds about her. 

“She and I have had a few conversations, mostly over email, but some in person. Obviously, Stevie and school were our main talking points, but the conversation wandered a few times.” Sara noticed a blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I may have shown up a time or two in the afternoon with two coffees instead of one and discussed books with her, but I was waiting for Stevie to finish at his locker.”

“How scandalous,” Sara joked wryly. 

“Well, it could be.” Laszlo set his fork aside. He adored Delmonico’s, but he could not enjoy his meal when he was at an impasse. “That is why I have not done anything more drastic. She is Stevie’s teacher, and if we were to pursue a romantic relationship it would pose a serious ethical dilemma. Not to mention, I am at least a decade older than her.”

“Oh, Laszlo, you’re thinking with your head again instead of your heart.” Laszlo rolled his eyes. John and his hopeless optimism when it came to love. “You should go for it, and that’s not the wine talking. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship, unless you’ve been hiding anything else from us?” he teased. “It sounds like this teacher is interested in you, so instead of conveniently bringing coffee to her, ask her if she wants to go get coffee.”

“As for the age difference,” Sara took a sip of her sparkling water, “some women find it appealing. You will never know if you don’t try.” Sara herself was several years younger than John, so she spoke from experience. 

“If she says no, then you have your answer and can move on. No more emailing, no more talking, and it’ll only be awkward for the rest of the year.”

***

Laszlo checked the time and decided to call a cab rather than drive. He would still be home well before Stevie, and it was the safe decision given how much he drank at dinner. It would give him time to think, as well, about their advice. 

Ms. Greene was young and bubbly. He did not want to misconstrue kindness as flirtation or politeness for eagerness. How embarrassing it would be to make that mistake, red-faced and ashamed. Laszlo would never be able to face her again. 

No, Laszlo knew someone as lovely as her could not be interested in him. Not at his age, checking for gray hairs every time he trimmed his beard, or with his harsh reputation for terrifying students and dissecting minds. And, especially not with his baggage. Laszlo was not sure anyone interested in him would stay after learning more.

He rubbed his arm as if it were sore. It did not ache, but holding it brought him comfort. He yearned to be home, in his four-poster bed, with a bottle of Tylenol in hand. Laszlo knew he would be sound asleep before Stevie came home, but he knew he would be safe and smart. Or at least, he hoped. Stevie still vaped despite his best efforts to make him quit, but Laszlo couldn’t chastise him when he craved a cigarette.

Next chapter

Tag list: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @groovyponypatrollamp @to-fat-to-give-a-crap @kateris-world @eli-the-thinker

#daniel brühl fanfic #daniel brühl fanfiction #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #the alienist fanfiction #the alienist fanfic

[jmdbjk]

It’s a VIBE

OMG I CANNOT WAIT FOR JIMIN’S OWN MUSIC!!!

I CAN NOT WAIT ....

Watching Taeyang’s Youtube live waiting for VIBE MV... 

Firstly. I am gonna preface this with a lot of excuses because I am a BTS stan and I’m only here for BTS and no one else. This is my first experience with Taeyang. I never saw or heard of the man prior to the first VIBE teaser drop. I don’t really know anything about BigBang except I’ve heard of G-Dragon and that there was some scandal but I didn’t even read up on the details of that. And also that they were popular back in the day and that Jimin (and maybe the other members) admired them or thought they were cool, probably emulated them. But I’m simply not interested in any other groups. 

I have immersed myself in BTS for a few years now. I know the members of BTS... I know their personalities, their laughs, their relationships with the other members, their relationship with Army. I’ve watched them during Vlive and Welive broadcasts. I am very strongly biased to BTS. So I am trying to explain why I am saying me, personally, didn’t think Taeyang was very engaging during his live broadcast. This coming of course from someone who watched Jimin put together a plastic flower for thirty minutes...

Secondly, I felt like I was watching Taeyang do a PowerPoint presentation with that flip chart thingy. If you can’t speak extemporaneously for an hour then don’t do an hour. Thirty minutes prior would have been plenty.

Thirdly, the production of the live broadcast was crap. There were noises in the background, the volume of a device was turned up enough that there was the constant delayed echo of everything he was saying and then when he decided to sing, the feedback was awful. We end up seeing there’s over a dozen other people with cameras pointing at him recording his PowerPoint presentation.

I stopped watching when he started to sing because the audio feedback. 

The ONE thing that WAS pretty nice during the broadcast was the English transcription CG’d right on the screen while he spoke. THAT is something I wish would happen when our guys did live broadcasts. I can understand how difficult it would be when they are together as a group, but when they are doing individual lives, that would be most awesome

ALL THAT BEING SAID... I understand Taeyang has been away from the limelight for a while. This is his comeback in the true sense of the word. I think he said six years since he put out new music? And in that time he’s done his military service, gotten married, had a kid. So his live was a way for him to reconnect with his fanbase. I get it. YAY FOR HIM AND THEM! I mean that sincerely. 

I’m sure Taeyang is a very pleasant person. 

Other things that stuck out to me: he spoke about Jimin briefly, said his rote bit almost verbatim that we saw in the Rolling Stone interview, about how working with Jimin came about. Then he moved on. Didn’t make a big deal out of it. And at the top of each of his flip cards were the words: TAEYANG’S VIBE... his team making sure to reiterate this was HIS song. Or maybe TAEYANG’S VIBE was just the title of his presentation, his reconnection with his fans... But my first impression was the former not the latter because twitter trends were #jiminVIBE etc... etc...and maybe his team took it too personal. Sorry fam, that’s how we roll. Get out of the way or get run over. 

BACK TO VIBE (I am shamelessly starting the video at approx 1:15... so hate me I don’t care, I only care about Jimin)

#jimin is going to take the world down #jimin x taeyang #jimin x that married guy #jimins vibe

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

oh my god. Did u just say that Taerae's chapter is gonna be DEVASTATINC?????? Help me. r u rly gonna do this to kkultaerae #1... but take ur time w the chapter make sure to take lots of breakfs & take care of urself 😊

i used to stream and vote every day. bur only for zb1 and p1h. i talk abt kpop all the time to my non kpop irls and just force them to listen. LOL its fun that they know who taerae is now. do u have a lot of online friends that u can talk to abt kpop? what other grps do u like?

i atarted watching bc i think the lineup is rly interesting and im not attached to any of them. except i rly like this guy named inhwan now bc his performance moved me to tears 😭 (ive NEVER cried purely bc of a vocal performance before!) but its sooo reaosnable that ur not watching it. keep ur peace!!

hope ur doing well! sleep for at least 8 hours, have 3 meals every day, & drink lots of aater ❤

xoxo, 🎻

i’m currently trying to tone down the devastation of taerae’s part!! i’m gonna save some of the emotion for his alternate ending now, i think it belongs there instead 😭 but it will still be kind of devastating i think.

for my birthday, i asked my best friend to listen to me give an hour long powerpoint about my favorite groups and she did. and she recently started tutoring one of stray kids’ lawyers!!! how insane is that. she only knew who they were after i taught her about them so i think i deserve a lot of credit

honestly, i don’t really have any online friends. for some reason, i don’t think i was really good at making friends that way?? especially in a setting that’s like a big group message… it was really socially daunting for me even though i liked all the people! i’ve had some individual online friends throughout the years that were so lovely but ya know, things just naturally fade.

my other ult groups are skz and bts, and behind them are nct (specifically 127) and ateez. i also love mont and bnd.

but my new favorite group, who have taken over my brain functioning temporarily, is riize.

i don’t know what happened but i took one look at sohee and i was done for. i’ve now ordered merch, started watching their variety show, made a new blog for multistan writing which i’ll eventually post on… i’m such a sucker 😭😭

i’m gonna watch some of the build up performances today!! i’ve heard they’re all pretty amazing so it can’t hurt to just watch the performances lol (10 hours later, is making a comprehensive spreadsheet for build up like i did with boys planet)

🩷💕 i’m doing well 🎻!! i hope you are taking care of yourself as well. sorry for the crazy long reply. 🩷💕

#iwnfyshb asks #iwnfyshb 🎻

[yanban-san]

I appreciate all the baked goods you send my way. But I’ve had my own brain worm with all the nsfw asks about the demon/eldritch au like… poor Elesa running damage control every time those guys completely miss social cues. Like she’s been over this- she made a PowerPoint for this!!!

Darling: “Hey Elesa what kind of phone do you have?”

Elesa: “The iPorygonX 13 why?”

Darling: “Well my phone has been acting weird for the past couple weeks.”

Elesa, immediately smelling Tauros shit: “Oh yeah?”

Darling: “Yeah! Ever since I started at the Gear Station I’ve been having weird glitches!”

Elesa, immediately taking an aspirin for the headache she knows is coming: “Wow, that’s so weird.”

Darling: “Right? Sometimes like my messages disappear, and what’s really, really weird is that I can’t download any of the new dating games off the App Store!”

Elesa, praying to Arceus for patience: “Huh, that’s-thats so weird.”

Darling: “And the worst part- and this might be a TMI and please stop me if you’re uncomfortable-“

Elesa, hoping she’s wrong and doesn’t know where this is going: “Y-Yeah??”

Darling: “Lately like- and you have to promise not to tell anybody- none of my… *whispers* none of my porn videos are loading.”

Elesa, regretting begging for her memories not to be erased. “O-oh that’s… that sucks… like a lot.”

Darling: “I am so sorry if that was over sharing-“

Elesa: “N-no it’s fine…”

Darling: “Like I’m pretty sure it’s not the hosting website, but like either they don’t load at all or they load but the people in it don’t look right. Like somebody re-uploaded the video with bad compression to make all the dudes have grey hair.”

Elesa, placing her head in her hands: “Yeah that’s so bizarre, maybe- maybe getting a new phone would help.”

Darling: “Yeah, I think that’s the only option I have left, if it doesn’t work… I don’t think I can do anything else.”

Elesa knows what other options you have, the two of them probably keenly aware that you would be desperate enough to take them up on their offer.

Elesa misses when she was just a model/gym leader and not an underpaid relationship tutor to a bunch of weird extra-dimensional weirdos.

Enjoy the sweets, I will enjoy your excellent dialogue you keep coming up with for poor tired Elesa and poor unaware of much of anything Darling, it's perfect anon <3

---

Elesa: "Man it sure is nice not having my memories erased and instead knowing that the Subway Bosses are freaks from Eeby Deeby" :)

Darling: "Hey Elesa I can't download any dating sim games :( It just always fails or complains I don't have the space-"

Elesa, getting an aspirin ready: "Oh haha that is weird-"

Darling is embarrassed as she asks Elesa "Also... Is it possible for... ahem, "certain websites" to just... break for one person and one person only"

Elesa:

Darling: "Because like- I've even tried to use my friend's computer... to uh, OH- to watch playthroughs of some of these dating sims I like and they always crash or are limited to 144p until my friend tries to watch them later..."

Elesa, knowing full well Darling is talking about porn sites actually because she has absolutely caught the two idiot demons reading human anatomy books and probably found their copy of the Kama Sutra in their office one unfortunate day:

Elesa, downing the entire bottle of aspirin: I'm sorry I need to go fight some literal demons and make some powerpoint presentations

Darling: What-

Elesa, later, staring into the camera like she's in the office: "I never thought I'd find myself sitting in my office writing a powerpoint on the fact it's considered a dick move in human culture to turn someone's pornography into images of yourself-"

Elesa, head in hands and wondering if there's an even higher dose aspirin at the drug store: "-And yet, Almighty Sinnoh continues to work in mysterious ways."

And underpaid?

The twins are not paying her any physical money at all! :)

...but as they learn more about being "friends"- They start to do nice things for Elesa, especially if she brings them gifts of sweets from their favorite bakeries around Nimbasa.

(Emmet and Ingo are starting to think of Elesa as one of those devoted "followers" or "patrons" so many of their kind have, though Ingo is sure that is not what a friend is supposed to be-)

That Raikou joke Elesa cracked back when she found out they summoned Dialga for you? Emmet shows up in her gym one day, in between challengers and presents her with a baby Raikou! Elesa didn't even know that there could be baby Raikou, but that's not important; the Raikou is so cute! It's got big ol eyes and big pointy teeth that are too big for it's mouth right now! And big ol' paws!

"You like cute pokemon and you said you wanted one of these so I found this little guy running around Johto for you!" And it's one of the few times Elesa is genuinely elated at the twins' behavior, and Emmet seems so happy that he did something right for a change!

Also she can just call them now on the X-Transceiver if she needs a change in the weather. :)

#Sethosover18 #Demon AU #Monster AU #Demon Submas #Seth.Emmet #Seth.Ingo #Seth.Anon #Seth.Asks #Thank you anon <3

[ewan-mo]

Mo had a dream

20th September 2023

The youngest student at the workshop; 2 months old. Son of Brenda, Community MH nurse, he is just 2 months old. He’s called Zion. And very advanced, of course.

At breakfast today I decided to have avocado. Because I could, because it’s good for me, and because we normally eat quite a bit of it at home.

Our menu here tends to be based on common Ugandan everyday foods, hence yesterday’s liver and cooking banana and today’s avocado.

Ewan began the day’s programme with a snowball exercise. 2-3 people discuss first, then they join another group to become 6 and so on. Each time the group has to decide on its ‘top 3’ – in this case, their top three things learnt as a result of the partnership with Jamie’s Fund. Great to read their results. I was not surprised, but I was moved, to hear mention of loving our patients, and other similar sentiments 

Long ago in Malawi, I was surprised and upset to find that the PrivateNotForProfit hospitals, which were mostly faith based, wouldn’t care for any patients with mental illness. While in government service we were developing community mental health care and reducing the population of the mental hospital, the mission hospitals were saying “We don’t do this.”

We asked a question of the Christian Medical Fellowship in UK as to why should this be? That led to a consultation: “Should faith based health institutions provide mental health services?”

An international conference followed in 1998: Developing Mental Health: a Challenge to the Churches. We brought participants from five continents - mental health workers, their managers and their bishops, and had a wonderful week in a conference centre in England. 

By then I had a dream: that faith-based hospitals, especially in low-income countries, would develop community mental health services, and offer love and commitment to this group of people who are so often stigmatised, rejected and outcast.

Working in Jamie’s Fund in Uganda, my dream has come true. Our young colleagues here have a shining vision to make things better in mental health, and they are transforming lives. They also love to learn and we are having such a good week with them.

Second on today’s agenda I presented Trauma Matters, prepared by our good friend Helen, a Liverpool psychiatrist. We were all looking forward to her first visit to Uganda – and so was she, but late in the day illness stopped that happening. Interesting presenting other people’s powerpoint! But I already knew that she and I had were of the same tribe, had concerns and values in common, and that it was a privilege to present her work. 

After lunch our colleague Sudaat told us about a new syndrome “Shake Shake”. Every so often these slightly odd presentations crop up, often in boarding schools, looking like some weird neurological disease. As far as I know, they never are, but are usually due to underlying stress and the girls ‘catch’ it from each other. You won’t be surprised to hear that in ShakeShake the girls’ legs shake.

Some of our colleagues had asked for screening tools to give them a straightforward and speedy way to assess those patients in medical clinics who come with physical symptoms but appear to have nothing wrong with them. So we talked about screening principles and got them doing translations of one such tool into local languages. Much hilarity ensued. Keeping control was like herding cats.  

We took a group photo with the banner of the the Diversity Foundation behind the group.  Diversity Travel have been very generous in their support to Jamie’s Fund and have paid about half the cost of this work shop for which we are very grateful..

Ewan enjoys data. Don’t drown in data, turn it into information!  Kuule from Bwindi and Lamet from Mukono, both very able and visionary mental health clinicians, joined Ewan to show how it could be done. Kuule and Ewan have recently spent a considerable time preparing a research paper on this very subject, which shows how the number of patients attending mental health clinics around Bwindi has increased as more clinics have been opened as a result of training of clnical staff  in basic mental health care, sponsored by JF.  The only officially required figures are for the clinic attendances rather than how an individual attends.  Just looking at the number of attendances doesn't tell you about the size of pool of patients or if individuals are attending regularly for follow up. You need this to be able to manage your service effectively.

Supper as usual and early bed.

[bigskydreaming]

Bruce Wayne upon Henry Cavill returning to the DCU as Superman: 

“Oh, I see somebody decided to go and STEAL MY ENTIRE CHARACTERIZATION on his summer vacation. Nice. Boy scout, my ass. Well, don’t forget where you are now. You’re not in Kansas anymore. OR Middle-Earth. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant “the Continent” (look, all fantasy lands are the same, everyone knows that. Its called the United States of Narnia? Read a map?) Whatever. Just don’t go around thinking you’ll be bringing any of THAT role into this one. Stay in your lane, Kent. I do the brooding around here, and I DON’T share well with others. Ask literally any of my children. I even compete with each of them for their siblings’ time and attention, lmao like why would I share my stuff with you? I’ve never even adopted you, like even a little bit, helloooooo. 

Oh, and btw, I still have my anti-Superman armored suit down in the Batcave. Its filed in the Aisle of All My Mistakes, Obsessively Archived For Posterity and Also Memorialized In A Super-Healthy And Not At All Concerning Way That Has Nothing to Do With Routine Self-Flagellation Because Reasons, no matter what Dick has told you. He’s a habitual liar, picked it up from me. I’m very proud. In addition to my anti-Superman suit I also have a lifetime membership to the Can and Will Repeat My Worst Mistakes Like Clockwork and Learn Nothing From Them Ever Club, so despite how disastrously everything went the last time I got my ass beat by you even WITH ‘prep time,’ no matter what the reddit Rumbles thread started by my sockpuppet account claims - y’know, back when I was manipulated into seeing you as Satan by a supervillain who looked at my ego and paranoia and said well this looks so easy even I almost feel bad about weaponizing it for Evil? - well, Poor Life Choices is the longest committed relationship I’ve ever had in my life and I’m WAY too invested to back down on that front now. I’d just look flaky. 

So in conclusion to this impromptu Powerpoint presentation that I just happened to have handy despite zero advance indicators I might need it and suggests either that I probably SHOULD be tested for the meta-gene or else that I really AM an extra-dimensional Batgod and everybody should be wildly concerned about that, the point is I’m ready to willfully disregard ALL of the aforementioned self-awareness and life lessons that didn’t stick, 100% prepared to throw down all over again if I see even a hint of that lip curling in a derisive half-smirk that suggests ‘I am cursed to share this planet with incompetent dumbasses.’ Just because my legal department still hasn’t figured out how to trademark a Mood even when its mine and I basically invented it, I’m pretty sure, well, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna just stand idly by and let you STEAL IT when plagiarism is a felony that carries a five year sentence. Minimum. Probably. Idk. Look, in this particular universe I mounted machine guns on my car instead of ridiculous physics-defying grappling hooks. I lost sight of Proportionate Responses literal decades ago. This is not new information. Let’s move on.

 Wait, what? No there’s nothing to read into the fact that I make a habit of watching your lips. You’re an alien. I’m a detective. I’m documenting how the topography of your face shifts in response to each and every emotion-incited twitch, all so I can plausibly pull off my ‘I can see into a man’s very soul by deciphering his micro-expressions’ bullshit with you too. Its literally for Science? I’ll write a book on it someday. Maybe. And if I do there will obviously be zero subtext about why I detail Kryptonian musculature in vastly more explicit detail than I do the mechanics of heat vision, duh, like lmao you sound so unhinged right now, literally what even is your deal.”

Bruce, walking away muttering: Who the fuck does this guy even think he is? And just going around adopting random orphans he trains to fight bad guys and save the world? That’s MY move. Everyone knows that! Respect my brand and go get your own, asshole. Jeez.

* this is a joke post that is not in any way meant to speak to OP’s actual interpretation of any Bruce Wayne that matters, just a random expansion on DCU movie Bruce Wayne who I disavow for being the Ultimate Bad Take of that universe on account of what the actual fuck am I supposed to do with a Batman who has his car gun down random henchmen in the name of literally nobody even knows at this point. Like, hello? Now what are he and Jason supposed to fight about and be forever tragically estranged because of? You guys gotta THINK about this stuff before you just go around throwing hundred million dollar budgets at the first pitch to go “here’s how a Superman and Batman fight to the death can still win, actually.” No, but seriously. For real. I just really hate Batfleck’s characterization. Like, with the fiery passion of a hundred thousand suns all competing in the official Universe’s Hottest Supernova competition. And as you can see, I am super reasonable and rational about this and am definitely probably likely to change my mind about it if exposed to just the right counter-argument that I have just never considered or been approached with before. And ‘tis not even an objection to his casting, the aesthetics, not the DC movie universe as a whole. Nay. Nay I say, with much over the top ridiculousness to blunt the edge of any inclination one might have to treat this post seriously because Somebody On The Internet Is Being Wrong persists as a problem that occasionally besets us all. No? That’s literally just me projecting and my experiences are not actually universal? Huh. Weird. Not sure I like that. ANYWAY, to return to the afore-mentioned NAY I SAY(s)....my grudge match is against Batfleck’s characterization and Batfleck’s characterization only. Consider this my love letter to how absurd I find it, rather than an invitation to The Discourse as even my substantial history of arguing molehills into Mount Everests isn’t up to the task of expanding on a thesis that is basically just “I just think it sucks and I hate it, bye.”

#now you might be reading this post and upon reaching the end of it having the entirely reasonable reaction of thinking: #what the fuck even IS this post? #totally valid. its the same reaction I have and I wrote the damn thing. #guess we're all doomed to never know #my inexplicableness baffles and bamboozles even me #Idk guys. I might just be weird? feels anticlimactic #was hoping for an eleventh hour reveal that The Reason is Aliens Actually #but sadly there's no little green scapegoats here #just my goofy ass #i should probably do something about that at some point. like. idk mature or whatever? #idk idk ill look into it. there's a webinar for that probably #(Also its one am and sleep deprivation is probably a factor here but that's much less exciting I feel)

[jandiaries]

“go eat your greens”

powerpoint revolution presents pretty privilege

You are pretty and pretty much privileged, you are in no position to tell us about the inequalities surrounding in this world.

once upon a time, in a place where we both stand... “this is so wrong, we should change this” the pretty girl said. but little did she know...

close your eyes, free your thoughts and imagine cassie from euphoria. she wakes up, removes her bath and body works eye patch, goes to her huge bathroom to begin her fifteen steps morning skin care routine she learned from a Korean beauty vlogger Song Hyo Min aka prettypinkpossum12.

after that lengthy procedure she goes down to have her plant based breakfast. she tells everyone that she’s vegan but she eats cheeseburger whenever she likes. there she goes, posting on her instagram story a bowl of yogurt and whatever mixed veggies. for the final touch, she put the hashtag “go eat your greens” but she did not even touch that fucking salad.

her life isn’t complex. she’s born privileged, a nepo baby, she gets whatever she wants. a twitter activist but her activism just stays on that blue bird app. a fake feminist who only cares about her body type, an influencer on tiktok who was once cancelled for mocking android users but pretty girl just pulled off a macarthur and returned unharmed with a different username. she also posts “support small business!” via ig story but that’s just her rich friend’s shop selling overpriced crochet bucket hats. lastly, she’s pretty. she could do no wrong in the eyes of society. she’s aware of her privilege but never admits it. like spoiled crazy claiming she’s a self made baby. i don’t like her but most of all i don’t like her principles.

she goes to a school where according to her, “everybody likes her, haters just wanted to live her life”. she acts as if she’s a modern day regina george. just with the additional cup of slay (admittedly) and bad attitude (oh boy). her overwhelming confidence is her female rizz. she only cares about herself. ironically, on that day, she was set to present a lecture about The Changing World (and what can we do about it).

she doesn’t even know anything. she is out of touch privileged, the worst type. she thinks she’s smart because she knows conspiracy theories, basic algebra, memorized amy dune’s cool girl monologue and the tiktok sped up chorus of enchanted in one sitting. what makes her stupid is the fact that she pretends to know but in fact she doesn’t know a thing. she��s either unaware or she doesn’t simply care because it doesn’t directly affect her, her status, her lifestyle, her everyday life.

she screams politically correct. the truth is, she’s just pretty pretentious. she’s like a break free manipulative female character reject from ottessa moshfegh stories. (oh shit)

she tells everyone to shift to a plant based diet because meat harms nature but is an avid fast fashion consumer. if i had the extra money i would love to print her a statement shirt “practice what you preach” with “because i can’t do it” in lowercase.

but there she goes with her powerpoint revolution, i mean presentation, condemning everyone for their carbon footprints... condemning everyone except herself.

—  

I always find it funny when the rich get to talk about Change. While they actually have the power to do so, it just seems like an airy idea. They don’t get to tell the actual story. They only have an internet perspective of what it’s like to be oppressed. If they want to change, they will only move to the parts that will be beneficial to them. As Edith from Enola Holmes has said “because you have no interest in changing a world that suits you so well”. Exactly. Why would they bother to change their perfect world and lives?

While you try to tell everyone about your perspective of good, you should take into consideration that not everyone has the privilege to just abruptly change their lifestyle. You have to acknowledge that you stand in a special place of privilege to do that.

I once read that the idea of a "personal carbon footprint" was popularized by BP, the world's 6th largest polluter. I have been thinking about it ever since. Big companies can evade responsibility by saying Hey girl, slow down on what you consume you’re destroying Mother Earth but here I am emitting a potent greenhouse gas. Same energy as that pretty girl. Politically correct people mostly come from privileged lives. They can seem to see all the disparity in society because they don’t have daily societal struggles. Girl, they can see the most absolute shit and still advocate for it. Pick a struggle Miss Ma’am. Like why would the marginalized care so much about free speech or eradicating plastic straws when they are struggling for survival on a daily. 

Then we blame them. For not understanding, for not cooperating, for not caring, for every reason possible. 

All we have produced over the years are all band-aid solutions. Global Warming? Quit plastic straws. Air Pollution? Switch to almond milk. Climate change? Recycle your Pepsi bottle. It’s not wrong. At least they’re doing something. Yeah. But it does not hit the core of the problem. It’s all becoming an individual responsibility. I wish this pretty girl and her likes just devoted their energy and wealth to demanding accountability from mega oil companies and other pollution-contributing corporations rather than giving a boring PowerPoint lecture about Claygo. Clean as you go, she said. You should’ve just shut up.

Maybe this other girl let her intrusive thoughts win. She stood up and said, “Shut up”. The pretty girl was stunned, puzzled but later on gave a mocking smirk. She then proceeded to tell everyone in that lecture room how she felt disrespected, blah... blah... blah... I guess this is it. Everyone went quiet when the other girl went in front and said  “You are pretty and pretty much privileged, you are in no position to tell us about the inequalities surrounding this world. We know who you are. Stop faking your principles.”

I paused.

This scene reminds me so much of the catfights in Euphoria. I told the girl beside me.

"Because the pretty girl looked like Cassie?”

"No.”

"Then why?”

“Cause it’s a cultural reset.”

-jan, thoughtballoon

November 19, 2022

Cover Design:  Pickles by ERIKA LEE SEARS  Graphics: Canva, Pinterest

[d144-catzie]

Winter Wasteland and Dried Oil

Chapter 1: On The Move

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

clack clack clack clack clack…

“…Not only does it help the unemployed earn money, it also helps the apple industry move surplus products that might never have been bought had it not been that man’s idea” The presenter stopped his explanation to draw multiple pictures on the medium sized blackboard. Multiple apple filled crates, many trees that what may be an orchard to visualize the apple industry, and drawings of people.

clack clack clack…

The presenter added another drawing, on the empty space of the blackboard he drew a smiling man with an apple on one hand and money on the other. “And that’s how apples became a weapon against the great depression, by buying apples from the apple industry at a lower price, then sell them at a profit” He finished.

Putting the chalk on the board frame as he clapped his palms many times to dust off the chalk remains.

The classroom was silent, not that it was never in the first place, but rather it was silent he could feel the odd looks the students were giving him. “Any questions?” His navy blue eyes went to one student to another.

“Actually I do have one, Vityaz” A voice came from the front desk, more precisely from the said male’s side. “I was wondering where you got this information about this great depression…” As she trailed off, he added “actually, there’s more about the history, this is just a snippet of the whole situation” Before letting the teacher continue. “Y-yes and I asked everyone to present it with powerpoint to be more efficient…but why a blacboard exactly?” She chuckled lightly, magenta ovals turning into question marks.

Vityaz cleared his throat and answered “one, from a history book, mainly about the histories on earth but I thought it would be neat if I add some snippets of it to my assignment. Two, I don’t know what should I do with the powerpoint file after this and blackboard is more efficient for me. Done presenting? Just erase it, plus I can use this thing repeatedly” As he erased all of the blackboard’s content. “Thank you, Vityaz. That would be 8 out of 10, you can go back to your seat. Next is Blooky, you can start your presentation” she dismissed the male worker, putting his blackboard at the back corner of the room while he went back to his desk.

For the rest of the class, he listened to none of his classmates’ presentation and only sticks his attention to a piece of paper. ‘Faster recharge’ written near a drawing of his railgun, a circuit diagram he drew long ago, an improvised charging plug with a switch embedded to it, and a map he’s currently drawing while also looking around his classroom.

As he kept doing his own working, next thing the male worker drone knew he was sticking his head into the vents.

“What…are you doing?”

BANG!

Just a simple question was enough to make him bump his head with the vent ceiling, it wasn’t expected either, out of all people.

“D-DAD?!” he scrambled out of the vent to see the man giving him a questioning look. Shoving the paper in his bag that he later carry it on his back. “I…am…” Vityaz looked at the man’s forest green eyes that’s filled with curiosity, to the vent and its grate lying on the floor, then back at his father.

His own navy blue circles became wide Os before, “Iamjustlookingattheventsjustincaseit’ssafefromthemurderdronesbecauserobogodknowswhenwilltheystartusingtheiroh-so-advancedbraintobustinusingtheventswhentheyrealisetheycannotusethemainentrance…andIwanttohelpincreasethesecuritybecauseIfitintheWDF” He sputtered all of those words.

The other just stared at him, bewildered, either from the gibberish rushing out from his son’s mouth or his sudden odd behaviour because his nerveous behaviour is definitely out of character. “I’ll see myself out, be in my room, adios” the turquoise haired boy rushed away, leaving the baffled man in the empty hall, wide eyed before taking a small paper from his pocket and left to another direction.

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

A video played and rewinded multiple times, the same pattern of gunshots amd grunts, the same environment and buildings on scene.

The viewer rewinded the video once again, paying close attention towards the bullet that shattered one of the yellow bulbs on the wavy haired murder drone.

There’s a Worker Drone with her dual guns ready to shoot, and the other one behind her injured. Leia, if the viewer recalled, began to shoot the bullets she began to familiarize with at this point. The bullets that managed to made their way towards the yellow bulbs.

The hunter grunted as it halted on its tracks while Leia kept shooting, what made her interested was the constant glitching the murder drone experience on its visor, or so it seems…with the constant whining coming from it and its awful aim when it protracted its claws.

“Aaah…aaaHA!” She paused the video before heading out from the dormitories and enters the main hall. Which is basically just an old unfinished house. The young drone knocked on the door before entering with small bounces in every step she made.

Everyone in the meeting, including her father, went silent at the young drone’s arrival. “Do you have anything to inform us, Sako?” Said girl just grinned in response, and without another word she brought the laptop she’s been carrying in the middle, plugs in the USB drive, connects the laptop to the projector, turns on the projector, and plays the scene she’s been replaying since morning.

Leia shooting with her guns, the bullets made their way towards the yellow bulbs, the murder drones grunted and whined and aimlessly tried to swipe the worker’s head off with the claw. Finally she paused the all too familiar scene and turned to see everyone in the room, as she expected, whispering to each other.

“So I was proposing on surprise attack when they’re in blind state” Another processing image on her visor, but no lightbulb this time, as the image was uickly replaced with her orange eyes. The other drones whispered amongst themselves, she fiddled with her coat, she caught her father staring at the ceiling, then Arisaka’s clapping instantly silence the whole room. “I’ll be discussing this with everyone here, thank you for the discovery. And do you mind coming back here tomorrow, same time as now” The girl shook her head in a blink, “good. Thanks again, kid. You go get some rest”

With a cat-like grin “just doing my job as the lookout of Ace” Terra turned off the projector and started to carry her laptop again, and went out of the meeting room. Doors closed and everyone in the room went back to discussing the strategy, added with Sako’s discovery about their hunters.

Back in her dorm room, she laid face first on the mattress then glanced on her side, ‘oh yeah, the new datas’

Flipping open the book and finally arriving at the page full of sketches, of their hunters, murder drones. All informations collected by the lookout herself, clicking her pen and drawing arrows towards the bulbs on their heads ‘weak spots, possible eyes?’ written on it. Sako swung he legs back and forth “maybe I’ll add more details on the girl one” she considered not a minute before the door slammed open.

“Yo, Sako” Greeted the drone wearing a black flap cap at the door, one hand on the door frame and the other in their coat. “Could you go to the warehouse?” Turquoise met red, and the book shut close as she’s now on her feet, “what is it, Archy?” She could see their red eyes lighten, “I’m bored”

______________________________________________________________________________________________

“I wonder what kind of shenanigans your family were up to now” Spoke the braided one at a dead drone posing, like a mannequin, “do hoping that they’re cooking up something good” His fingers trailed on the beat up gun on her hand before sighing, spotting a speck of dust on it and wiping it off. The needle on his tail screeched lightly at the contact with the floor, he brought it up and there they are, dust. “Tch…it’s not even two days…” Grumbling, he glanced at the newest addition in the basement, the dual gun wielder posing with her weapons, G finally left the basement.

Now exiting the house he eyed the spire far from where he stands, in a distance he saw two metal flying straight at him, two yellow ‘><’s coming at full speed. Poker faced when the one with wavier hair came closer and closer, and he’s now up high with wings wide “I win!” The girl cheered then next came a disgruntled groan from the red scarfed drone who crash landed into the pile of snow.

“Always the fast one” G grinned at S hanging onto his tail midair and K tapping his foot and with crossed after. The female disassembly drone jumped down from grabbing the leader’s tail and he followed her to the ground, “what’s the occasion this time?” K’s quick to answer “S did some lil’ patrolling around the surrounding areas”

“For some more little toasters to catch, we did prey quite a lot yesterday” She spoke up while rubbing off the snows on her companion’s sleeveless jacket, their leader looked at S in silence and coughed “I mean yeah, yesterday I was a bit of a brute-”

“Not bit, you were a madlad!” K interjected, who got a scowl from G in return. “The point is, I’m not thinking straight. And now, I’m considering…perhaps delay our hunt? Gah, how much worker drones you manage to find out there, S?” Said drone whirred as an image of loading screen appeared on her visor before numbers displayed on her visor, not a lot.

The number on G’s visor shattered as his face scrunched “eugh, I said that? I shouldn’t have thought much about it” He grumbled the last part, lucky for him none of the two heard him. “But we’re still going hunting on our own and fetch fierce drones, right?” S asked him and he nodded, and then G snapped his fingers with now a checkmark on his visor. “You three, listen up!” In an instant the two slammed their foot on the ground.

“Yesterday we did a magnificent job with our game. Quantity increase roughly around 70%. But…” There’s a pause between them all, K and S waiting for what G has to say, “the gap for the game will be further compared to now. If we’re expecting bigger quantity each game, it is highly suggested to stay thrift with the quantity of Workers outside if you wish to maintain this habit. And if…we ran out of addition for our game” The leader has his eyes on his subordinates “we can just do some outing, go far from here”

The two stand straight and hands made their salutations’ noticed “understood” they firmly rensponded. G snapped his fingers as the duo nodded then their hands back on their sides.

“Whew…one steam blown off. Come on, K and S, let’s get more of those small toasters” He giggled, eyes turned into a big yellow ><, fangs revealed themselves, and wings spread wide before he launched himself into the sky. And of course, with a twirl before his figure faded in the constant snowfall.

Seeing him, the female prepared her stance but not launching herself up yet seeing her scarfed teammate only standing straight, she went back to her stance “not coming?” K just shrugged in response. “Wanna let G blow out some of his steams?” She added as the male just nodded at her, “heh, he’s still cuckoo, and I’m still full from yesterday” He replied. “Welp, you do you, fine by me. Don’t get mad if you didn’t get any~” S backflipped upwards before protracting her wings with eyes similar to G’s, a big yellow ><, hunting mode on and with tremendous speed she zooms away in the snowfall.

K just stood there in silence.

…

It’s almost half an hour and he’s still there, “why did I chose to stay again?” Finally a word from the Disassembly Drone as his tail swung back and forth. And with a sigh, he turned to the house he and his teammates reside, an old mansion obviously, with snow and icicles decorating every corner, the beige is now bleached and deathly pale, there’s a balcony each of them like to use for their own amusements, and of course broken windows. “Maybe I should try something” He said before taking a step towards the building.

But soft scrunches changed his mind, in the distance he saw two worker drones running in the middle of the dead city, K decided to follow them.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

“Excuse me?” Digital question marks filled the visor.

The other worker drone leaned back with a looooong sigh…“it’s like paintball, Sako! Bullets hit them, bullets shatter, and nanites come out, nanites melt their skin. Easy” They then slammed their palm on the whiteboard and stares expectantly at the lookout. She facepalmed, “have you ever tought about how will you contain them? Do we even have something strong enough to hold the nanites!?” Exasperation visible on Sako’s face before she continued, “and do you have any idea how many limb transplants you have!?”

“This…!”And then her palms showed the sketch of a weapon, drawn by the mechanic, stumbling her own words “is too risky! This. Is. A. Double. Edged. Knife” She put emphasis on every time her index finger pointed closer to the sketch, a hard frown on her face.

“Risk is inevitable, and consequences must be faced if you know what you’re doing” In all truth, Sako has known Archy for as long as she remembers being alive.

Archy, the mechanic and weapon expert of the colony and resistance, Josef is no fool when it comes to choosing their weaponist, but there are times where Sako needs to bring her friend back to the ground before any screw loose they made backfires.

Weapons that can shoot bullets infused by Nanites. A double-edged knife just like she emphasised, this crazy idea could up their game, but the risk of the weapon backfires and harm the colony overweights the pro. She wouldn’t want to to give their hunters some sort of an advantag-

“Yeah, listen to her, smarty-pants”

B A N G !

No hesitation, and their finger still on the trigger. The murder drone’s back arched backwards and its face facing the room corner behind it before slowly straightening its posture to face them.

The bullet perfectly caught between its teeth, before it spat it onto the floor. “Nice shot, would be a shame if it’s wasted with the shooter commiting self-die tho” Archy didn’t budge, they still had the muzzle facing their red-sacrfed hunter. It chuckled as its digital >< reverted back to two yellow ovals, “I don’t like easy games” The murder drone slowly lowered the gun still pointing at it.

B A N G !

“Get out of my place” The bullet only grazed its shin as the drone just hissed lightly, and with a scowl it spoke “fine…” It simply walked out. The swaying, bright nanites on its tail, was the last thing the worker drones saw before their hunter vanished completely out of the place, and slowly fading in the snowstorm.

Silence engulfed the room until it was broken with the handgun being placed on the working table, Archy then turned to their friend “so…” They started as their red digital eyes stared expectantly at their friend.

Sako, still having a firm grip with her opinion, “those things can heal. We can’t. if you want this weapon you’re working on to work, you better find a way to contain it, or else we’re just wholeheartedly serving ourselves to them” She answered back.

“What if I do?” They leaned close.

“What if you don”t?” She shot back.

“What if I told you I already found it?” She was taken aback by that response.

For years they grew up together, they always caught her off guard. “I need their tail” They simply stated, Sako held back a sigh as her fingers pinched her forehead, “sure you know what you’re doing?” Her question made them scoff.

“You know the gist, Sako. There will be time where those devils eat their own medicine, I help with making the weapons for that day. No matter how long it takes to collect them, once it’s finished we can play safe as much as we want” The flap-capped drone sneered, two wide red Os on their black screen. Sako took it into consideration, before finally giving in, “aight! You do you, but…” The mechanic’s face dropped at her trailing off, “you discuss this with Arisaka” She finally pointed outside with her thumb. Red digital eyebrows just rose up, blinking for a few seconds “fine by me”

And then they left the warehouse.

#murder drones #murder drones oc #winter wasteland and dried oil #d144.writes

[theleaf]

Some thoughts on retirement

I remember the beginning of my relationship with the Marion-Dillon County Board of Disabilities and Special Needs. It was Friday, September 17, 1993. I was sitting at home on my first day out of work after resigning my job with the Pee Dee Autism Program, when the phone rang. Dr. David Vandergriff, the Executive Director of MDCBDSN was calling to set up an appointment for me to do some fee-lance work on communication goals with some of the participants in the Dillon and Marion Day Programs.

I went to Dillon and met with him the following week, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Shortly thereafter, in addition to the communication goals, I began working on other projects for the board, such as The Leaflet newsletter, a couple of brochures, etc. A little more than 3 years later, I started full-time with the agency as a job coach on December 2, 1996. 

In June 1997, Dr. Vandergriff called me in and asked if I would be interested in taking over the Training Coordinator position, as he thought my skills would be well-suited for the job. He encouraged me “to apply.” By July 1, I was the new Training Coordinator.

Prior to starting with Marion-Dillon, I had been continuously employed since my Senoir year in High School, never having been completely jobless for longer than a few weeks. I always managed to pickup temporary jobs to fill the gaps between real jobs. I had also never stayed with a “real job” for longer than 36 months. I was 38 when I got the first call from Dr. Vandergriff, and had just left a job after 2 years and 8 months. 

Over the last 30+ years, Marion-Dillon has not only been my job, it has been my calling, my family, and my life. I have initiated projects (without permission) simply because I felt like it was something that needed to be done. One major personality flaw of mine is I would rather ask forgiveness than ask permission. (Oh, and I don’t really like being directed to do something, either.) It really is quite remarkable that I have been able to remain here for all these years. I attribute that, not to my own value, but to the patience, wisdom, and perseverance of those who have had the misfortune to “supervise” me.

I look back on these years and the different things I have initiated with pride:  like the logo for the agency, the Information Portal of our website, the online policy manual, the iTrain online training platform, our online employment applications, the Powerpoint presentations used in our staff development sessions, and so many other things upon which I have left my fingerprints. 

Sadly, my health has recently begun to deteriorate which has necessitated that I move my planned retirement date up a few months. It is my hope that I will be able to remain involved with my MDCBDSN family and the life that has been so incredibly good to me for the past 30 years. I am facing some serious physical challenges, but they are not insurmountable, and I will recover and thrive once again. Please know that I value the friends and connections I have made as my life’s most precious moments. I am a better person now than I was when I started, and it is all because of you. You will all remain forever in my thoughts and I hold you in the highest regard.

#retirement

[advancetoclassesandmaterials]

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