#not which .. in any case i will not decide but a specialist will but anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 8 months

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Satisfied

James Wilson x reader

description - Y/n reveals some of her...hobbies.

word count - 800

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN - request here

(my fave Wilson picture!)

*your pov*

“Wait!” I came running in to see Cameron and Foreman attempting to pry the woman off the man she was ‘strangling’. I managed to pull them off of her, both equally surprised by my actions in stopping them. I also held my hand out to stop the woman from doing anything that would incriminate her further.

“This isn’t what you think it is.” I directed towards the two doctors, I then turned to face the woman who stood ashamed. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

**********************************************************************

“She’s his dominatrix.”

I announced to House and his minions. I stood front and centre as they looked at me in disbelief.

“They both participate in BDSM, I’m assuming a classic dom and sub relationship. Harvey clearly takes pleasure in masochism and she indulges this as his dom. Hence the strangling which I think she did to calm him down.”

The open mouths around the room could have caught flies. I was confused by their reaction so merely stood kicking my feet waiting for them to regain their ability to speak.

“I’m sorry, how do you know this?” Foreman questioned his face betraying his complete shock at my statements.

“I wasn’t sure at first but there was something in the way they related to each other and their stances around the other. Also I’ve seen her at a few parties.” I simply stated in response.

“Your life is amazing!” House excitedly added. “Now at these parties did you do any girl on girl action? Medically speaking.” He questioned me with a mischevious glint.

“I don’t know how answering that is relevant to the case at hand.” I teased back at him knowing he would understand the affirmation in my tone.

House stood up and came to my side before whining out. “Wilson is so lucky!” Like a child who was jealous of their friends new bike. I smiled at the mention of my boyfriend and then rolled my eyes at his playful quips.

“Anyways, that’s what I came to offer.” I skipped out of the room to leave them to their diagnosis.

**********************************************************************

“Hands up who’s turned on.” House asked the room once Y/n had left. He shot his hand up and was quickly joined by Chase. Cameron glared at him.

“What?” He innocently asked. She jutted her chin out and collected up her papers to leave in a huff. Glaring at House as well as she left.

“What a square.” House announced to Chase and Foreman.

**********************************************************************

*your pov*

I was flicking through my files at the nurses station when I felt a pair of strong arms embrace me from behind. James had his head buried in my neck and gave the skin a quick kiss. We were never ones for extreme PDA in the office, so the exchange lasted less than a second before he was around at my side to properly converse with me.

“You on House’s stroke case now? I saw you in the room.” James inquired.

“No, just had to offer some specialist assistance.” I sing songed back.

“And what specialist assistance would that be, my darling?” He indulged in my evasive responses. Leaning in close so our lips were ever so close.

“It merely involved one of the patients…specific hobbies.” I pretended to think hard about my word choice. I winked at him on the last word.

He took my full meaning and struggled to hide his grin at the beautiful and exciting girl he’d managed to get.

There was a tap on my shoulder and I whipped around and was met with Chase.

“Dr Y/l/n, may I speak with you for a moment.” He seemed cocky and looked between James and I. I decided to coddle his intentions and agreed. He directed me a few feet a way. James watched my retreating form and kept an eye on the conversation, not liking the look in Chase’s eye.

“I just wanted to say, y/n, that I have also from time to time indulged in the pleasurable acts you described to House.” He flirtingly stated, his voice a low whisper. He placed his hand on the wall next to us and used it as leverage to lean in.

“I see.” I could barely contain my giggle at where I suspected the line of questioning was going.

“So, if things ever get too boring with grandpa over there,” He jutted his chin towards James. “I’m always up for a bit of alone time.” He winked at me.

I let out a small giggle but quickly righted myself. I stalked closer towards him and I saw him shrink at my intimidating movement.

“Oh believe me,” I placed my lips directly next to his ear. “I am plenty satisfied.”

I strutted away relishing in his flustered state. I once again was in front of James.

“What was that a—” I pulled him into a deep kiss by his collar.

#dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #house md #james wilson #dr james wilson x peds!reader #house x wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x peds!reader #robert sean leonard is an amazing an underrated actor #robert sean leonard x reader #robert sean leonard imagine #robert sean leonard

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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papaver-decervicatus · 8 months

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Cat/Mouse/Den: Pt. 4, Mus Urbanus

Fatal attraction is one thing but stuck on a stakeout, a certain little mouse decides to push her luck with the cat who's been chasing her... just how far is too far, and how much more can they take?

CW: Obsession, stalking, canon typical violence, intrusive thoughts, unsanitary wound care

Authors Note: Hahaha, remember how I said I was going to do shorter updates? Yeah well, I felt really bad for missing the previous week but I did have a lot of terrible IRL shit happen, so working through that was a priority. That being said, going back through all the amazing comments and everything everyone has written has been absolutely keeping me afloat! Thank you all so so so so so much, you will never know how much it all means to me.

There are a couple of Hannibal references in this part that, hopefully, will start to make sense by the last part of the story (which was, coincidentally, the first part written!) Not going to lie, I am just glad to publish this so I never have to think about this damned part again as I have been stuck on in for literal months. Also sorry if Soap's accent sucks, the only experience I have with anything remotely Scottish in the way of language tendency is my grandmother whose father was a Scottish immigrant and that's it.

Anyways, I hope you like agnst and interrogation scenes, because next week, König loses his faith in god and in mouse while tied to a chair! See you there!

❣️Cura ut Veleas ~ Caedis 🥀

PREV | Pt. 4 Mus Urbanus | 4.2k words | Mouse POV | NEXT

“Mouse?” A voice from in front of her calls out, but only after she deliberately drags her feet into the threshold of the neutral ground, alerting him of her presence.

“Quiet as a.” She utters her usual response, stepping into the little flat in Buenos Aries, Argentina. She hears the smile as Soap sucks in a breath at her little joke. Her callback should be old by now, shouldn’t make him smile anymore, but he does anyway. He’s easy to get along with, something hard to come by in war. She crosses the minimal space between the two and takes stock of his little setup.

For a mission, it’s luxurious. He’s sitting, in a chair might she add, with a scope poking barely out of an antique window on the 7th floor of an apartment building, looking into a busy market square. His arms rest on a table littered with little signs of life, a map of the area adorned with notes and coordinates in inexpensive ink, no less than 7 pens whose caps are chewed through (everyone’s got bad habits but this little sin of his drives poor Price up and down the goddamn wall), two disposable cups with sediment rings denoting how much instant coffee was drunk from them at a time before they returned to their places besides their drinker. Most notably, however, are two radios in a strange moment of near fornication– backs ripped open and wires crossed in an almost pornographic display of field ingenuity.

Damn demolition specialists, she hears the echo of Gaz say in her head and she absentmindedly rubs the scabbed over cut on her left hand where the shrapnel of a certain someone’s frag grenade got her two weeks ago. She wants to be mad but-

“Hear any good ones, lately?” Soap turns to her, he’s disengaging from his post, changing his guard for her to take his spot, just as command ordered. He’s been in this little nest for about 6 hours and she can feel his desire to scuttle and tinker about radiating off of him. As he takes apart his gun, already aware and familiar that she refuses to use anyone’s but her own, his eyes shine to life. The color of sky blue permafrost, yet they radiate a certain lived-in warmth impossible to distance yourself from. Eyes almost like-

She bites her tongue at the thought. Bad time to be thinking about König… she mourns. But, speaking of the man.

“Yes, but it’s bad,” she offers, in fake warning as she sheds her outer jacket before moving to unhook the case that stands between her and the assembly of her gun. She knows the warning will only intrigue the poor pyrotechnic more.

His smile is nothing short of sadistic as he raises an eyebrow.

“No, like, really bad,” she emphasizes, throwing a pleading look his way. His grin gets even more shit-eating-er if that sort of thing were even possible. “I mean it, MacTavish. Pass it along to your long-suffering Lieutenant, and you will be picking teeth out of your shit.” “I’m sure I’ve done worse to Ghost,” he supplies, rolling his shoulders. Yeah, I’m sure you have, she thinks but is much too self-preserving to say, especially aware that the Frankenstien’s monster of a radio he’s resurrected from two dead circuit boards is likely not secure enough to promise any real privacy. She would rather not alert Simon Riley that she’s become a dealer in his and Soap’s arm’s race of terrible jokes. He does not take prisoners, after all…

“Alright, alright, just don’t tell him it’s from me,” she smiles, putting her hands up defensively in a quick jest. “Okay, play along with me now,” he nods along as he steps away from the perch and lets her take his spot at the table.

“So, what's the difference between a piano, a fish, and a gluestick?”

“I know about two-thirds o’ this one.”

Mouse trap baited. She smiles.

“Give it a go, then.” She wiggles in the chair, pressing her cheek to the crux of the sight and its metal holder. She sighs into the familiar feeling of control that settles into her bones as she hunches over.

“Can tuna piano but’cha can’t tuna fish?” He supplies, half teasing her already.

“Yep, but you’re forgetting something.” She sighs and goes to fiddle with the red-light optics extension, Command is confident enough in her abilities that she was specifically told to take it off for this one. She hears Soap whisper a quiet ‘oh shite’ behind her when he realizes he probably forgot to himself and she laughs a little.

“What about the glue?”

Mouse trap set. Poor Soap, always getting himself into ambushes…

She smiles wide and hums remembering how excited her kitty-cat was to tell her this part.

“See, I knew you’d get stuck on that one.”

Mouse trap sprung. A moment of silence.

“Oh fuck me, that one is bad.” Soap chokes out a hearty laugh as he collects his discarded coffee cups from her side.

“No thanks,” she purrs as she finally sets herself into position. “Use it at your discretion, soldier.”

“Aye, that I will.”

Soap goes to rummage through the kitchenette to her right and she takes the moment she lacks supervision to indulge herself. She does not move her sights to alert the man with her of the wandering of her eyes, instead, she scans windows and alleys without visual aid. The stale air threatens to choke her as she rakes over the golden-hued morning scene with desperate efficiency.

After what feels like an eternity of stolen glances switching between her targeted area and anywhere he may be, she sees him.

Technically, she has no way to know for certain that it’s König, she doesn’t have his usual wave or cheeky grin (affectionately referred to as a Cheshire Cat Smile in her own belabored heart) to alert her to his presence. That being considered, there is a masculine figure barely peeking out of a window into an alleyway who is just shy of 7 feet tall and his face is covered. Yeah, probably König. She smiles despite herself and her company. She wonders if he has radio access to her little hideout.

(She remembers the seemingly endless weeks of his arrival to her perch. The early morning light hits the streets the same way it had hit the forest ground that day. Like a fairy tale prince, beseeching a princess on hand and knee, he would always somehow appear in her sights, nearly as though it was just meant to be!

His form stands out tall and proud from its surroundings and she recounts every single reason he should not be here. By the third time their eyes caught she’d decided he was doing it on purpose, but she never let him get away with it without some acknowledgment on her side. She can only imagine that if she’s getting hunted for sport, her calling out his position will, at least temporarily, halt his advance.

But by this rate, she’ll be in his mouth by the end of the year.

His eyes are cold and bloodshot red. Painted tears lick their way down the hood she’s never seen him without, possibly a feeble attempt at impersonality? Maybe if he looks enough like a monster people will just trust their first assumption and leave him alone. But she’s never been one to judge a book by its cover…

“I see you, König.” She warns out to him. He stills among the foliage, bathed in sweet-honey-like warmth from the rising sun. He does not shy away from his imminent death on the business end of her rifle, of course not! Instead, he raises his chest proudly, seemingly aware that the loneliness in her yields to whatever greater magnetism the loneliness in him commands. He’s an enigma, it bothers her that of all the people to put the effort into finding her, it has to be him. Mostly she curses herself for promising him a next time all those encounters ago, if she’d known what sort of a game it would inspire in the predator stalking her like prey despite her flipping sniper rifle, she never would have said a thing.

He may be in her scope, but he’s got her under a finer microscope to seek her out so faithfully. She wishes she got this sort of dizzying devotion from someone, anyone else. It is the third day this week he has found her.

What she expects to happen is what has happened for weeks now, 1) he hears her transmission, 2) he smiles at her as a predator smiles at pray, his eyes find hers and her hackles rise in utter terror, and 3) he hums to himself and turns away, self-satisfied enough to have won hide-and-seek for the time being.

That does not happen.

Instead, König sits down, right where he is, and pulls out that monster of a knife he keeps strapped to himself. He throws it up and catches it without looking at it, instead his eyes are laser-focused on Mouse. This is, of course, despite the fact he should have no earthly idea where she is. He plays with his knife idly for what must be an hour, but she does not- no, can not- look away from him.

She remembers her trigger finger twitching with sinful power, she remembers choking back the insistence at killing another lonely person, devoid of their autonomy on a basic level when they signed up for a mercenary-issued ticket to hell.

She remembers hopelessness. She remembers refusal. She remembers the smile reaching his eyes when she played along with his joke.

“Why don’t rats like cats?” Her radio labors out.

She half forgot what his voice sounded like, surprisingly excitable and shrill for a man of his stature. Her brain stutters around the implication of the only words she’s heard him say to her since the fateful ravine that gained Mouse her own personal 6’10” shadow.

She blinks a few times in surprise, genuinely pondering if her long hours hiking through the woods have made her susceptible to hallucination and general hysteria. She is not thinking when she timidly responds-

“Why?”

“Because they are weapons of maus-destruction.” Konig replies like it’s not the stupidest thing she’s ever heard in her goddamn life. Perhaps it's pity at the memory of his discomfort around his comrades. Of the thought of the way he tries to make his body so small when around others (truly an impossible task he routinely fails.) Maybe it’s irrational fear, twofold and buried in her instinct to shoot despite the clear disadvantage on his behalf and her insistence that she does not do her damn job, or fear of the inhuman man in front of her stalking her through the woods. Or it could be discomfort, no one ever prepared her for dealing with whatever the fuck this is in basic training or field school. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what it is.

In the sparkling, decadent light of a sunrise, her heart hammers in her throat at the first joke he’d told her, in some strange and desperate attempt to fill the meters of silence between them.

She laughs.

And he hears it.

And with his wide stance, his ghastly executioner’s hood in the place of a crown, and his knife back in its holster- his beautiful eyes seem to smile. Suddenly, his eyes look lived in, like someone has just put up new curtains in an abandoned house. His whole affect changes hinging on what was an irresponsible outburst on her behalf at best.

And for the first time, she does not fear a monster hunting her through the woods, silent and purposeful in his pursuit of prey. Instead, she wants to understand a man, whose eyes have lit up like a princess has just laughed when he kissed her hand.)

Soap wanders back into her small perch with two cups of coffee and sets one down next to her. She takes a quick glance and hums with appreciation. He takes another sip out of his and she remembers that they’re supposed to share shift for about an hour before his rotation ends.

“You treat all your girls to coffee in the morning?” She quips.

“Only the pretty ones,” he returns with an effortless charisma and her breath catches.

Not because of Soap, but because in that alleyway, where she really shouldn’t be looking, she sees the uneasy rise of two massive shoulders and-

Oh my god, did König just… get jealous?

The next idea she has is downright evil, really this is not the place or the time or any of that but-

Fuck it. She’s already flirting with the enemy, what more could this do? She’s already told the poor mountain of a man something dangerously adjacent to “God I really missed you when we didn’t talk to each other for three weeks like a horny teenager and by the way I love you desperately and think about you when I’ve got my hands down my pants,” and she probably imagined him tensing up, anyways. No harm, no foul.

Maybe, it's dangerous, to wave a steak in front of a mountain lion, but what if she wants to get mauled?

“Hey Soap, what page are you on?” She says, putting her terrible plan into action. She sees him look up from his report, or more likely an idle sketch, on her periphery.

“Ah, only the second chapter, did'ya move my bookmark?”

“Nope, the book’s in the leftmost pocket in my duffle.”

“Thank ya,” He says and moves from his spot to go fetch the book from it. She takes a quick sip of her coffee, delighted to realize he’s made it to her specifications as far as milk and sugar go, as he rummages around in her bag.

The impromptu book club started nearly eight months ago when Nova passed her copy of Emma by Jane Austen off to Gromsko to help him with his English. That turned into Mouse recommending the book Jane Eyre to Nova on the pure suspicion that she would hate it, which she did. Gromsko still needed to practice and enjoyed the spirited discussions so he joined the blossoming group with an English copy of The Doll by Aleksander Głowacki after he finished Jane Eyre. Never one to be left out, and surprisingly well-read when he wanted to be, Soap had pitched the idea of The Lord of the Flies (because to quote “Fucking Brits,” and he wanted to subject others to his high-school reading list.) If she remembered correctly, Farah and Reyes had also started sharing copies of books they enjoyed occasionally.

“Can’t believe it was Gromsko that put it in rotation.” Soap says, pulling out a well-worn copy of The Silence of the Lambs from the bag.

“He said he picked it up years ago in Polish thinking it was a cooking field guide.” She offers, as the man next to her idly thumbs through pages.

“Yer shitting me, yeah?”

She just shakes her head and smiles into her scope. Soap laughs and removes his homemade bookmark, a pencil sketch of a stake-out view somewhere in Mexico scribbled onto scrap paper. He keeps his thumb on the page and flips through to where hers is, much further along.

“Yer a right romantic, ain’cha Bonnie?” Soap laughs somewhere between the pages and somewhere behind her. “Hmm?”

“This part, that’ya highlighted,” she hears a well-meaning sneer in his words. “The one you put the hearts by and everything…”

Mouse’s mouth tethers itself into a terse line and she attempts her best noncommittal shrug.

Somewhere in her line of sight, a mountain shrugs himself chuckling lightly. She wonders what it would feel like, to lay on his broad, muscled chest as he laughs, how closely he would hold her, how she could rest entirely on top of his chest and not touch the ground beneath them and-

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” She lies through her teeth. Soap’s laugh behind her is loud and proud. Suddenly, his casual sadism isn’t so amusing when turned around on her.

“Do you think it's because I like to look at you and think about eating you up—“ he reads from the book, voice dripping in mock chivalry and breathless romanticism. “About how you would taste?"

She feels her cheeks and ears heat up as Soap loudly proclaims her funeral to all those who may care, and she doesn’t miss the way König leans a little too close to his radio as he goes about mocking her. His stance shifts as if he hangs on the very words like he’s found a secret buried deep in her subconscious. Technically, she has no way of knowing, but Mouse knows in her heart that König is smiling. At least someone is having fun.

Once Soap comes down from his laughing fit he puts her bookmark back to its spot and talks at the back of her head.

“With your pressed flower bookmark and everything. Oh, it would be sweet if he wasn’t Hannibal the Cannibal.” Soap hisses out. “I always figured you were…” he pauses searching for the right word, “adventurous from how Gromsko talks bout ya, but seriously cannibalism?”

If she’s not mistaken, König’s hand grips ever so slightly tighter on the radio attached to the best. Maybe the battle plan has to change, but she’s still got some ideas.

Soap is completely oblivious to the electricity licking up the air between her perch and one man on the ground. He looks around frantically, seemingly desperate to find her, and look in her eyes. Mouse is a sniper, she really should hate the attention, but something fatalistic descends into her smile as she lets Soap continue his little outburst.

“I swear. You and him, yer sure there’s nothing there? He’s even given you special field medicine lessons, no one gets treatment like that from Gromsko.”

“His name is Sobieslaw.” Notably, it is not a denial. Technically, everything that’s just been said is the truth.

König’s shoulders rise.

He looks right down her site.

She smiles.

Come and get me, kitty-cat.

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. You’re the only person who calls him by his first name.”

“Because you never put in the effort to learn it.”

“That don’t mean a thing since I don’t have tits.”

“You do, just not as good as mine.”

“Aye, off it. Gromsko is into you.” She can hear from the way Soap’s voice carries haphazardly around the room that he is pacing and talking with his hands. She doesn’t turn her back, gaze still fixated on the looming shadow in her sights. Soap continues, entirely unaware of the exact type of beast he is tempting. “He swaggers around you, never even bothers to fucking ask to pick up your boxes, he just does it. His voice gets all soft around ya, too, like he’s cooing at a goddamn pet animal or something. He nearly got into an actual pissing contest with Ghost the other day when he bitched about you beating him in poker. Face the facts, Bonnie, he wants you.”

König’s eyes have focused with the ferocity of an apex predator and his chest labors out concentrated and sharp inhales and exhales. He resembles a recently sharpened knife, desperate for some carnage after a particular kind of attention. His body is crumpled in on itself not unlike a cat getting ready to pounce. His heels dig desperately into the cobblestones beneath his feet. His hand flicks out his beloved Glock field knife with all the reverence of a praying man.

In short, he looks every part like he does in immediate battle. He looks like he did the split second before he started sprinting for her in the snowy woods, the scene that occupies her lonely nights when she tries in complete vanity to recreate the feel of his hands cradling her sides.

Mouse should be scared of König.

Instead, she sees before her a scene of complete and hopeless adoration focused so intently on her alone that she should be afraid of. Realistically, she recognizes the clear and present danger of the moment. Is König upset at her? At Soap? At a potential adversarial suitor by way of Gromsko? She doesn’t quite know, but after a career of intentionally hiding like a coward, she basks infatuated by the calamitous captivation he exhibits.

He looks like he wants to maul something to death.

As keen as she is on getting him close enough to try to get over to her (and ideally, throw her under him,) in her infinite mercy, Mouse decides the teasing has gone on long enough.

“I like Gromsko just fine, but not like that.” Soap audibly scoffs and König’s entire form relaxes. Both men mutter something to themselves before an encore of gunfire breaks out. Mouse’s heart stutters to a stop when her radio comes in.

“Visual on Gaz, he’s hit!” Nova calls out, clearly alarmed. Soap grabs for the radio right next to Mouse and brings it to his face, holding onto a few loose wires as he does to ensure the amalgamation does not fall apart in his fingers.

“Where is he?”

“Two blocks from south from you, Gromsko is a click out.”

Soap looks at Mouse with his heart bobbing in his throat. The pain and worry on his face is palpable.

“Go.” She says. Soap looks around frantically at their supplies, seemingly taking a split second worth of inventory, making as many life-or-death decisions as he can in such little time.

“Soap, listen to me,” Mouse soothes. “I keep overwatch, you take my TAC vest and stabilize him until he can get a medic.”

“Mouse, I can’t just leave you-” “You can, and you will. Go.” She says with all the finality of a door slamming shut. Soap doesn’t look at her again as he gathers her supplies and nearly sprints downstairs.

Soap leaves. Quickly. Quietly. He never looks back.

Her stomach settles into discomfort and she looks through the door he closed with the same sad nostalgia she looked through falling snow and monumentous trees. She can’t help but think she would not get the same priority in Gaz’s situation. Like some terrible premonition, she imagines bleeding out on the ground as Soap turns away, never once looking back.

Would König come for me? She ponders, before she smothers the paranoia-induced delusion with the memory of his large hands on her sides. She looks down at her shoelace, where she carved a cylindrical hole through his effigy to attach it. The birchwood mouse carving that sleeps at her right toe gives a silent reassurance: he never really left you, did he?

By the time she looks back into her scope, in between the all-too-familiar white noise of war that’s broken out around her, she sees a shadow dart out from the alleyway one down from where König is. The figure is cloaked in the specific type of military fatigue denoting his affiliation, one that is unluckily for him, kill on sight. It ducks behind the building to the right, where König is. It stalks out, lining itself up behind the hooded man, brandishing a drawn pistol.

König doesn’t have the time to react to the blood spray that litters across his back from the other man’s head once Mouse pulls the trigger on her gun, silently thankful (as awful as it is,) that Gaz getting hurt allowed her to take the shot without Soap inquiring into her actions. (But maybe it’s her fault in the first place that König was distracted enough to allow someone to get the drop on him…)

König looks back towards her and his head lulls to the side like a heavy flower bloom weighed down by morning dew. His eyes, somehow the softest she’s ever seen, are also carving a large chunk of her soul like a knife cuts through soft wood. When he lifts his hood to blow a kiss to her, she knows she will never get her traitorous heart back.

“Danke, mein Engel,” the radio on her table whispers in his voice.

“It’s only fair. I did owe you, after all.” She responds, all together unconcerned with whether or not he can hear her. She smiles, thankful she can see those bright eyes another day.

When he turns away, she feels her entire heart walk away with him. With every step of his fleeting form, she feels less and less herself, as though someone had separated her shadow from where it meets her feet. Something has changed in the air between them, a sad resignation settles into her trigger finger when she releases it.

For the first time, she does not feel as though she wouldn’t run if he took her, but rather that some integral part of her is with him as he leaves.

All is fair in love and war, but she’s not sure just how much longer she can stand to play cat and mouse.

taglist!

@kneelingshadowsalome @sprout-fics @bucca2 @dead-cipher @gallowsjoker @lostagoodcigar @berryjuicyy @haisebo @crowbird

And special thanks to @bucca2 and @ivymarquis for finally kicking my ass into gear to write this. Can't wait to read yall's WIPs!

#Navigation -> Cat/Mouse/Den #König #König x reader #König x OC #König MWii #König COD #Char: Mouse

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possumsinpeoplesuits · 7 months

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At long last, my Our Lady of the Passion cosplay is ready for cons!

Based on this picture from Pinterest (google is finding fuck all elsewhere, but if someone knows the source I'll add it.)

The tank top is from Lockedtombmemes' Redbubble store.

The jacket is here, though I've painted the back with some fabric paint. I used the non-heat treating kind and just sort of sketched out the letters with a dark pencil to make sure the placement wasn't too awful.

The dog tags I'm not quite satisfied with because I put too little information on them, and an updated one is still waiting in the mail (I wanted to put the Wing and Cell on it, and had to reread some chapters to verify) There's loads of places to get them, but I used these.

The machetes I don't have many pictures of (I don't have a full length mirror to show them properly strapped to the legs.), but I went a little overbudget to the point it would probably have been cheaper to buy real machetes (but not as welcomed at conventions!) Still, they were from here, in case anyone wants some big ol' 27 inch props instead of the dinky ones from Spirit Halloween.

Gloves were these ones, and they fit my big ol' butch hands just fine. Nothing special there.

For my TACTICAL BLOOD OF EDEN FANNY PACK (which I already wear all the time, but changed colors to match the costume anyways) is this.

The boots are fairly ubiquitous and seem to come from various online sellers, sometimes in men's sizes, sometimes in women's, but this store has them up to a women's size 12, which I needed because I'm lorge.

Now, the mask I'm most proud of! I don't have any experience making costume bits, but I found this one meant for airsoft, which has TWO FUCKING FANS?!?! hidden in the filters to cool my face in the sweltering 80 degree Texas winters.

But! You'll notice the goggles aren't tinted, so I had to figure out how to do them myself to hide my glasses, for REASONS, but this little kit was pretty simple. There's a gluey side, so you just spray the goggles with some water, then slap them down and spend like... a fucking hour or two squeezing out the air bubbles, but aside from a single wrinkle, I think they turned out great! The red also provides some good contrast.

Now, the pants were pretty simple. These come with knee pads, and the black camo looks really nice with the gray coat and black shirt. It did take two attempts to get some that fit (One seller had the XL listed as having a 44 inch waist, equivalent to a women's 18, but labeled elsewhere with the true size of 36 inches, the bastards.), but where I got silly was the straps.

I got this tactical belt, which seems to have tipped the number of tactical things I can search for before search engines decide you're a bootlicker, and intended to use a single bike strap on each leg to hold the other end, which, well... two problems.

The blades were now being bent by my massive fucking quads because I've been doing a shitload of exercise to get fit, because apparently all I needed to get into the gym five times a week was wanting to look like my specialist book blorbo.

I couldn't bend my fucking hips.

So! I ended up ordering a total of SIX STRAPS for my legs, pairing two up high to fit the wider part of my leg, and a single one down near the knee. The upper ones I later looped through the belt to hold them up, which also doubles for making the trousers into a fucking cod piece, which, hey, some people like that. The lower ones were led up by the knee pad, so I had a somewhat stable set of six straps and one belt, which is dangerously close to becoming a Nomura-era Final Fantasy character, but hey, I gave myself carpal tunnel marathoning all the Kingdom Hearts games last year, so that's not a problem.

All in all, it probably cost me... well, more money than it should have, but it's all pretty quality stuff that I'm sure will be very toasty if we ever happen to have another winter down south.

Also, last note... boots of any kind are so much more comfortable with insoles. They don't have to be expensive, but your feet and knees will thank you at conventions when they have a good cushion under your heels.

That's about all I've learned putting this together! I'm 5'9 and around 250 pounds, give or take, so most of this is men's garments, which means the pockets are DEEP AS FUCK. Perfect for collecting small rocks.

Just something to keep in mind.

(See y'all at the conventions. I promise my Yorkshire accent will be less goofy by then, but I can't promise I'll be as nasally as the audiobook.)

#the locked tomb #cosplay #costume #blood of eden #our lady of the passion #our lady of the passion tlt #nona the ninth #halloween

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secretgamergirl · 1 year

Text

The Illusion of a Functioning Society

I don’t know if this is one of those things that’s true for everyone, I’m just in a particularly miserable situation personally, or this is one of the many cases where trans women act as the canary in the coalmine for everyone else, but I’m increasingly getting the vibe that somewhere around when America decided its response to a global pandemic that’s killed... can I look this up? Close to 7 million people so far was formally going to be to just kinda... pretend it isn’t happening and everyone agrees to just not bring up how many people they’ve lost and pretend there’s some other reason service jobs are suddenly understaffed... that kind of got away from me, but yeah, since around there, I’ve had the vibe that people, broadly, no longer really seem to care at all about the general concept of a social contract.

Let’s start with the most obvious example. As the pandemic was first really gearing up, I had a couple noteworthy medical concerns. Incredible tooth pain, and some pretty damn horrible constipation issues (we’re talking like, making a dropoff only once a month). Couldn’t see my regular dentist because she was out of the office hoping Covid would blow over, so I got a referral to someone else, who said it was a problem they weren’t specialized in, and bounced me to someone else, who said and did the same, then the fourth dentist I was bounced to who was like a two hour drive away started looking at my teeth, glanced at the form I’d filled out of what medications I was on, got confused by something, and asked why I was taking all these things. I replied that I was trans, she looked at me like I’d just sprouted bat wings, said my teeth were fine and I should leave, and shouting a very loud parting “thank you SIR!” on my way out the door. The actual pain went away after I was on antibiotics for a bit, my gums de-swelled, and what looked like part of the plastic bags they put on the clamps and such when you’re getting certain other kinds of dental work done worked its way out from like under my tooth so, all well and good there, but... the system failed pretty hard on all that? Still haven’t seen my actual dentist in what like 4 years now, who apart from leaving some plastic junk sitting around the one time apparently is just the best.

Meanwhile with the other issue, I talked to my doctor who was about to quit from Covid stress, he sent me a specialist who was completely checked out, who lined up a colonoscopy. That... failed to provide meaningful results, because before you get one you have to completely empty out your whole digestive system with this medical drain cleaner, and that part didn’t work because, again, being super blocked up was the whole point. So as I’m coming out from anaesthesia I’m told “it was a bad prep” and I’m trying to ask if I’m supposed to rebook things or what. I just get sent home, have the follow-up with the specialist, and he... leaves his job while I’m waiting in the office. Like, he just full on quit then and there. The doctor who referred me to him is gone too. And the whole practice I was seeing these people at has had no in-person office hours for... well, years now. I don’t know if I actually technically have a GP right now? Pretty sure no.

Anyway that issue went away shortly after I took a hardline stance on a relative who very very incorrectly believed I needed to be eating bananas regularly after reading some quackery or other... but you know what didn’t was uh.... fairly regular fairly large amounts of blood loss when going to the bathroom. Which uh... seems bad. Seems really bad as a recurring thing for several years. I should definitely see a doctor about that, maybe try the whole probe thing again if... I can actually get an appointment with anyone.

This is of course on top of a bunch of Trans Stuff I desperately need done if I want anything approaching a normal life. That’s all on hold because my health plan absolutely 100% covers all of it, but there are no actual providers for any of these things in network. It’s a problem.

Meanwhile hey, my internet is garbage? I have a modest 240 mbps down/20 mbps up DSL modem, with no extra bundled services like phone or TV, and with frequent hours long outages, for which I am paying... $140 a month. That’s not even a little bit what I’m supposed to be paying, or getting, and when I call them about it they can’t even be bothered to provide plausible lies. I’ve been told I’ve missed payments (it’s a fully automated system and I’ve never not been charged), that I’m paying a $100 monthly rental fee on this $20 modem I own outright, etc.

The sensible thing to do would be to immediately cut all ties with them, but... I need some alternate ISP to switch to, and when I go looking for one, I just get phone trees and clueless call center employees who all seem to very much be in agreement that my address does not actually exist and is not covered by anyone’s services. Also fiber internet is apparently a fanciful delusion I have made up. So this apparent monopoly just gets to... take as much money as they want out of my bank account, and I can’t do a thing about it.

Meanwhile I spent literally the entire month of December dealing with losing my SNAP benefits. That’s the thing you get when you’re poor where you get a little card with a small balance every month you can use to buy some of your groceries, but not all, because there’s a strong political lobby that keeps calling for weird restrictions on arbitrary things poor people aren’t allowed to eat. Anyway I kinda need that, because... rent’s really high here, my ISP is charging me through the nose, and my only source of reliable income is my patreon. Which has been dropping off steadily since Twitter’s new management firing basically everyone means there’s nobody to deflag the malicious automated report-volume auto-suspension on my account and let me log back in.

So I need food to live. Early in December I get a big envelope in the mail telling me I need to do a phone interview to keep my benefits, and I need to do it by the middle of... November. Uh-oh. So I try calling, I navigate a phone tree, eventually it tells me nobody is available and I need to go to their website. Their website recently underwent an overhaul and required everyone to update to new passwords to log in. Except they didn’t do anything to make sure people could change their passwords to new secure ones while logging in with their old unsecure ones, and by that I mean the whole site is completely bricked. So that was like 2 full days of tech support to get a new password to access a site to tell me to... call the number I’d initially called, which I’ve been trying every day, and getting full on locked out because nobody is in. Winds up being something like December 24th where I just full on don’t sleep the night before so I can call the instant their phone lines open and hopefully get the apparently like one person available as soon as they get in. Other people apparently also did this though, so I am on hold for four hours.

Eventually I get this interview done, and it hits a snag because they ask me what my monthly income is, (roughly $975), and what my rent is ($1100), and they go “wait a minute, these numbers don’t add up. How are you affording your rent?” They didn’t really seem to accept “I’m not” as an answer, and tell me they’re mailing me a new income report I need to fill out by the end of the year. THAT got here literally yesterday (we are a bit into January as I’m writing this), but finally being able to access their website I was able to get a preview and see that they assumed I was operating... some sort of business with warehouses and trucks and such and I needed to document how much those were eating into my profits or something. So I just had to go in and cry in person about how I don’t have any money left at all and how I had nothing left to eat because I’d been cut off for a month and had to explain like three times what Patreon even is and still left with the guy apparently convinced it was some sort of government subsidy program he just wasn’t aware of.

So uh, side note. I haven’t really posted anything anywhere online for the past month or so? This took literally every waking moment of every day to sort out, plus several non-waking moments, plus it’s hard to focus when you aren’t eating. Also when you’re freezing because you can’t afford to keep the heat on in a cold snap.

Meanwhile, you know, I’m really trying to get some non-Patreon money coming in too because I really am unable to cover my rent and all, and I’m hitting fun new problems like the publisher of my last board game not having my current contact info for any royalties I might still be getting, and my only means of reaching them being someone on Twitter which, yeah, that’s out. Someone recently decided to do a new print run on some books I wrote a few years back, but decided he didn’t need to actually contact me to do so, or pay me, and when it was pointed out to him that that isn’t really how publishing worked, he decided to just quietly cut all my stuff out of the reprint. RPG writing completely dried up on me too when Covid started. I’m not in touch with anyone, I’m reading about executives at a big publisher going on tirades about not wanting to work with... a slur for queer people, so, that’s probably not coming back. And apparently the whole industry is having to deal with another major publisher’s lawyers doing something that’s a big ol’ headache everyone else has to deal with now too.

So, you know, it just kinda seems like people aren’t so much for the two-way transfers of things anymore. I’m paying for medical coverage I can’t use. Not getting paid for work. Getting charged through the nose for internet I’m not getting. Hell not too long ago I tried one of those food delivery apps since there was a promo and the driver just... picked up my food and went home to eat it himself, apparently.

Meanwhile on a government level, uh, somehow Teslas are allowed on the road despite being firebombs that fail like every basic safety requirement, and can even test their automated driving modes that even when working properly are programmed to break basically every driving law. And... I mean this is really a whole separate article really but did you know that at this point, like, a handful of companies are just buying every single home anyone puts up for sale to consolidate these horrible rent-monopolies? And this is on top of a whole separate deal where people are pulling a similar weird shady thing where there’s entire cities where like 80% of homes are sketchy AirBnBs now?

And you know, right-wing controlled bits of the U.S. are just actively gearing up for the mass incarceration and murder of trans people, while parts of Canada are setting up programs to straight up euthanize people below a certain income bracket.

These are all pretty significant large-scale social problems and the fact that they’re all being met with this “whatever” attitude kinda means the death of society at large. Plus you know, lots of individual people.

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sk-lumen · 2 years

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Hey girl

I’m looking for some advice please.

I’ve been with my bf for 8 years and I really just don’t fancy him anymore. He gets a lot of takeaways and drinks beer 3-4 nights a week. When we first met he had been very fit and playing rugby a lot and I was really attracted to him but he got an injury so stopped playing.

I’ve addressed this to him that I think he’s drinking too much and ordering too many takeaways it but he says I shouldn’t ask him to change himself and that I’m being controlling. He’s gained a lot of weight and keeps saying that he’ll go to the gym but rarely follows through. I feel a bitch being so looks focussed but I feel we’re too young not to fancy each other (we’re 26) and our sex life is definitely suffering. I have no desire to have sex with him at all. This all sounds really horrible but I’m stuck between shaking myself out of this and saying he’s a great guy forget about and I’ve addressed my concerns to him countless times to which he does nothing.

Hi darling,

I can relate to your story, so take my word when I say the following.

You may not like hearing this, but the truth is you’re not in the same place anymore. You’ve tried reaching out, he’s rebutted every attempt and even defended himself, literally telling you outright he’s not interested in changing/improving. Most likely, he’s going through a dark stage in his life because of the injury mentioned, which has no doubt affected his self-esteem or sense of direction in life. That deserves compassion, but it doesn't warrant you staying in the same dark place and being miserable with him!

In the best case, what he needs is therapy — professional help from a specialist who can gently guide him out of this state of complacency, passivity, and essentially being self-destructive (drinking, gaining weight, not caring, pushing away his partner).

In the worst case, he’s just not interested in changing anything about his life right now — and you need to accept that. If he doesn’t want to change, he’s not going to. Do you understand? Nothing on your end will shift his mind, and it’s not your responsibility either, let that be clear. The decision has to be his.

But here’s the catch. Darling, you’re so young, just 26! You can’t wait around for another person to decide to get their life together. You can’t. I promise you, if you wait around hoping and hoping, you may wake up at 30 or 35, and find that things have only gotten worse, and worse yet, you’ve wasted most of your precious youth settling for… well, just settling. I will also add...

Saying he'll go to the gym but never follow through = he has no intention of changing. Actions > words.

Don't ever feel bad for being "looks focused". Attraction is important, and so is health/fitness. If it's important to you, it's valid! It has nothing to do about being a b*tch or vain.

Have another sit-down with him, tell him clearly how serious this is, and if things don’t change in a week (yes, a week, you must set a definite timeframe, not a wishy-washy “soon” that he’ll forget next day), then you’re leaving. And then? Actually leave if he doesn’t step up. (This is important. If you stay, thereby breaking your word, he will respect you less for lowering your standards, and you’re also teaching him it’s okay to disrespect you because hey, you’ll stay anyway.)

Hope this helps. Remember that you have your whole life ahead of you. It may seem like this relationship is it, but if things don't work out you'll always fall in love again and again, new beginnings are always around the corner. 🤍 And from my experience, relationships only get better, because you have higher standards and know what you want, and no longer accept less.

PS: 8 years? I don’t know what your views are on marriage — if it is something you’re interested in or not. But if the answer is yes, I assure you he would have made his intentions clear in 8 years. Any man who knows he wants a woman as his wife, would make his intention clear even within a year (yes, a year). When a guy knows what he wants, he doesn’t wait for another lucky guy to steal you away thereby losing the opportunity of his lifetime.

Much love,

-Lumen

#relationship advice #glow up #high standards #healing #recovery #selfcare #writings #ask

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entitycreation · 2 years

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Waddup with the 😈👶📘

Oh god I know the one you are talking about bvcbcv Okay so, this fic went from a simple cute mpreg fic to like.... Lovecraftian horror with far more twists and turns then I could keep track of, and I changed up how I wanted it to go each time! I often think about this along with my dragon AU so much so that they ended up merging together because if I'm to make baby OC's they might as well be dragon demon baby ocs because Marry Sueing characters is fun fuck anyone who says otherwise lmao ...Anyways yea the fic got too complicated and I constantly go back to revise it again and again and cant seem to find the story going the way I like. I figured I start with the dragon AU to at least establish Mephistos and Shiros relationship in that universe before I make them have a kid... or two... or three.. Okay on to actually explaining the plot of... Both? We'll start with the first part, DRAGONS. This AU is set in a world where dragons are separate magical beings that are born from condensed Assian magic. This magic is not at all associated with demons, so dragons, elementals and things made from Assian magic are not bound to any demon king or demons in general, they are their own thing. I hope this made sense (I don't have a way of explaining it just yet) Dragon magic is incredibly powerful too, it can reach world ending levels of power even... However, dragon magic specifically needs a host. Similar to demons, the magic is more so parasitic in that it needs a body that can contain it. The thing is, while demons are picky with their hosts. Dragon magic is not so much. The magic will spend a long time hopping from host to host until something lands and lasts long enough for the host to begin turning into a dragon. Dragon magic, like most magic coming from Assiah, will fade away overtime if its just floating around without a body. No body, no magic container. For that reason this magic will body hop around. It can go into anything. Animals, humans, and in very interesting cases... It will often even buddy up with already possessed bodies too. Which brings us to our good friends Mephisto, Shiro and Yuri! Upon investigating an "anomaly" located in a remote ruins somewhere (don't know exactly where yet) The trio gets into a fight with an enraged and injured dragon. While fighting the dragon, Shiro nearly gets killed trying to take it on by himself mostly, which prompts Mephisto to stop time just as he almost got squashed by the palm of the dragons hand. However, the dragon begins to move slowly on its own, resisting Mephistos magic. Shiro gets out of the way on Mephistos call, knowing he cant freeze it for long... But then just as Mephisto resumes time again, the dragon very quickly switched from what it was doing to lunge at Mephisto, catching him between its teeth. Mephisto ends the fight by summoning a bunch of clock hands to spear the dragon to a nearby hill. The dragons jaw slackened after a minute of being speared and slowly dies... Mephisto gets out of the beasts maw with severe injuries to his abdomen and pelvis. After that battle Mephisto suffers from recovering the injury, apparently demon healing doesn't extend to this type of wound. So he heals at a very slow rate compared to even human standards, which is odd and prompts the order to send in specialists to take a look at him. From there its all a bit blurry as the scenes all changed up a lot and I never have a coherent idea for anything beyond this point. I just know that Mephisto then gains a dragon form that he cannot control and often turns into a dragon either out of stress, anger, or not venting out the magic enough so it builds up until his body cant take it and he goes berserk. Now, the mpreg fic actually was written before but I abandoned it because I lost interest with that one in favor of the new version of it. The new version has been redone over and over because unfortunately I'm indecisive and cant decide how I want it to go lol. I just wanna explore Mephiro with their own little fuck ups- I mean, cute children... That definitely wont eat them alive or anything.. No no >.> its all fluff I swear ^^ I cant get too far talking about this because I cant think of any specifics or how far along it is since its very different from the old one. Best I can do is mention it but uh... If you have specific questions I will do my best to answer those!

#mephiro #mephisto pheles #Shiro Fujimoto #blue exorcist #Ao no Exorcist

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djino04 · 1 year

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Touchstarved-OmegaVerse serie

For the first day of FEBUWHUMP 2023 (@febuwhump ) . The theme is touchstarved

POV Saul

For some reason, Rosalind decided to send Andreas on a diplomatic mission to Eraklyon for two weeks. That's a long time two weeks, it's even longer when you're an omega and the alpha who usually helps you is gone. I think the headmistress did this to punish us/me for the failure last time, I can't see any other explanation. Because any sane person doesn't put the word "diplomatic" and Andreas in the same sentence. But you may say, Rosalind is far from being sane.

So I act as if nothing had happened, while the pain invades my body day after day. This doesn't stop me from giving my classes to the specialists, nor from fighting against Dane to supposedly do a demonstration, but I also take the opportunity to put him in his place. This kid really needs to come down a bit. He's gotten a little too big of a head since Rosalind decided he'd be useful to her. So sure, he's good, but he'd be even better if he practiced instead of strutting his stuff. I feel like I'm seeing Andreas again at times. Except that Andreas trained at night and had private lessons since he was a child, which is not the case for Dane. He needs to understand that he still needs to improve. I'd like to avoid him learning that lesson by getting killed.

Anyway, all that to say, I'm carrying on as usual, or at least trying to. The first week was pretty easy, but then the first symptoms came. First, a headache came on and it refuses to let go no matter what medication I take. Then my stomach decided that it would refuse some of the food I would try to swallow. And now my bones are starting to hurt. I know the next step will be shaking and dizziness before I am unable to stand up. At first, I was hopeful that the more serious symptoms would not present themselves until Andreas returned, but that illusion did not last long.

I hate being an omega... And I hate Andreas for making me promise not to take omitrix. If I could have swallowed the drug, everything would be fine, I would be sound asleep in my bed, instead of being kept awake by increasingly unmanageable pain. I have rarely had to suffer from the lack of alpha thanks to Farah and I wonder if this is a bad thing after all. Maybe it would be easier if I were used to the pain or maybe the symptoms would take longer to come on. It's hard to say and I wonder if there are any studies or anything about it. I realize how little I know about omegas. I refused to learn too much because I didn't want to be an omega. I still don't want to be one, either. It's so much easier to be an alpha...

A sharp pain stabs my stomach and I can't hold back a groan. I try to breathe through it and curl up on my side, waiting for it to pass. If I listened to my instincts, I would spend the remaining four days before Andreas returns, in this position in my bed. But I refuse to give Rosalind that pleasure so tomorrow morning I'll get up and go to class as usual, no matter how much it hurts.

************************

When my alarm goes off, I wince as the noise makes my headache worse. I have no desire to move because I know that any movement will only increase the pain I feel. I feel like all the fairies in the school have decided to use their power on me tonight and will do it again the second I get out of bed.

Yet, I have no choice, I have to do it. So I gather my courage and lean on my arms to straighten up. This simple movement makes me dizzy and I fight to keep the contents of my stomach in its place. But I refuse to simply let myself fall back into the pillows. The first class starts in an hour, I know it's going to take me a long time to get ready so I have to get up now.

After almost 45 minutes of struggle, I am ready. I see my reflection in front of the mirror and I can hardly recognize my face. It's pale, with huge dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. I feel like I've aged 10 years in one night. No student is going to be able to miss the fact that I am sick. As long as they don't understand the source of my illness, I'm fine with that. The fact that I'm an omega is becoming less and less of a secret, but I hope I can keep it that way for a while longer. I don't know what's in store for me when the truth comes out, but it won't be good for me, that much I know.

I look at the time. I have 15 minutes left to make the trip to the training ground. I glance out the window and almost groan when I see how far it is to the castle. This daily commute seems so long today. I am so tired and it would be so easy to finally decide not to go. I'm not going to be much use during training but that would mean letting Rosalind win again. She has far too many wins under her belt for me to let her have this one willingly. I'll go to class until I can't get out of bed. That's why I finish getting ready by putting on my shoes. I start to grab my sword when there is a knock on my door. I'm having a little trouble guessing who it might be by the time, but I guess I'll find out soon enough:

"Come in."

To my amazement, it's Sky who walks through the door. He frowns as he closes it behind him. I guess it doesn't take a genius to know something is wrong with me. But his presence here before class is quite disturbing, which is why I ask him:

"Sky, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He doesn't answer me verbally, but he walks towards me with a purposeful step and I quickly find myself with his arms around me for a hug. Relief immediately washes over me as the pain immediately begins to recede. This does not prevent me from worrying about the reason of this impromptu hug. That's why I ask Sky:

"To what do I owe the honor of this hug?"

I hear Sky's response, even though her face is buried in my shoulder:

"Andreas texted me to tell me to give you a hug since you are apparently incapable of asking for help. Those are his words, not mine, but I pretty much agree with him."

I blow my nose, amused. I in turn hug him to me. We shared hugs throughout Sky's childhood, but he's grown up and those moments are rare now. I will cherish this moment even if it didn't act like medicine for me. Especially since I thought I would never be able to do it again after I was sent to prison and even afterwards because of the anger my son felt towards me. But things have changed now and this hug shows it. I also have another feeling that comes over me that I can't describe, the thought that Andreas is watching over me, even though he is far away. I can't even get mad at him for stepping in without asking me. On the other hand, I know I owe Sky an explanation, so I give it to him:

"I didn't come to see you because it's not your place to deal with this kind of thing."

I feel him shake his head before he replies:

"Yes it is, that's what pack members do, they help each other and they are there for each other. We are part of the same pack, Saul, and I can help you. I should have known what was wrong even without Andreas' message. I noticed this weekend that you weren't 100% but I didn't want to bother you with questions. There is so much going on with Rosalind right now, I didn't even think about what Andreas' absence meant for you. You've been suffering when I could have helped you a few days ago, if only I had understood."

I tighten my grip on the back of his neck before replying:

"Hey, hey. Stop that, right now, okay? You didn't do anything wrong, I kept it from you. But I thank you for coming to me when Andreas told you about it. Despite what you say, you didn't have to help me."

I know that he is surely not convinced and besides he confirms it by asking me gently:

"Promise me to ask me to help him next time."

I need to stop making promises to Andreas and Sky. But I know my son won't let me out of this room until I do, so I comply:

"I promise you. I will come to you if the same situation happens again."

That seems to be enough for him because he doesn't add anything else. And for once, my promise gives me some leeway. There's no way I'm going to intrude on Sky's life because of my omega status. I'll have to find some other solution than omitrix to make myself independent from him or Andreas. I don't know where I stand with the latter. Does he help me only because he has to? Or is he doing it because he wants to? When in doubt, I have to look for something else that gives him the freedom to leave whenever he wants. I hope he doesn't because I appreciate having him back in my life, but neither he nor Sky deserve to have an omega as a burden. There has to be another way, I just have to find it.

But that's a thought for later. For now, I'm enjoying the moment. The pain is slowly diminishing and in a few hours it will be a distant memory. There are 12 minutes left before the start of class, I have plenty of time to enjoy having my son against me for the first time in many months, before I have to head to the training field.

#pain #nausea #saul is an omega #hurt saul #hurt/comfort #sky is an alpha #saul silva #sky of eraklyon #ftws #febuwhump #febuwhumpday1

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alaffy · 1 year

Text

Vampire Academy, Ep.2 - Earth. Air. Water. Fire

I mentioned last episode that the way this show is shot reminds me of reality shows like the Bachelor. The fact that both of the lead characters in this episode have to face challenges really doesn't help quash that belief. Also, yeah, I'm just going to say it. The story is decent, but the camera work or how they're doing special effects; it needs an absolute upgrade, because it is…It's not great work.

So, in this episode we find a little bit more about how Strigori becomes Strigori. Any vampire can become Strigori if a Strigori bites them or if they kill (even accidentally) another creature while drinking blood. Christian wonders if there might be a little bit of a intelligence to the Strigori, but so far there doesn't seem to be. Well, sort of. But I’ll get back to that at the end.

Meanwhile, we find out that Rose keeps having this dream, seeing the aftermath of the car accident and seeing Lissa go towards a dead body. And then she sees Lissa’s brother telling her to remember. We also find out that, due to the events of the previous episode, Lissa and Rose have been forbidden from contacting each other.

Lissa finds out that, because she has been nominated to be Queen, it has been decided that they are going to push forward her Specialist Test. To explain, all vampires apparently have a form of elemental magic. They either control fire or air or water or earth. Lissa is one of the rare vampires that, as of this moment, has not been able to figure out what what she specializes in. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, except she knows that there was another vampire, Sonia, who didn't specialize or they couldn't specialize. And well, long story short, they did everything from counseling to electroshock therapy. And Sonia didn't come back…well, no, they said she didn't come back the same. But you know, besides the bird thing, she seems pretty much there. So, I'm not quite sure what the hell they're talking about.

Rose, meanwhile, finds out that, because of the incident in the previous episode and because she put Lissa in danger, The Academy Is thinking of expelling her; meaning she can't be a Guardian. And it sounds like she's going to be forced to live in what sounds like the vampire version of the slums. So, she's going to have to go in front of the Headmistress and The Council to plead her case.

Lissa, at this point, has decided that she needs to sneak out and talk to Christian and see if he can help her figure out what her specialist powers are. And yeah, he tries to help her and there's this little bit of flirting between them and blah blah blah.

Anyway, we get to the night of what is both of the challenges. And, well, Rose seems to be doing a decent job of explaining why she should be kept at the Academy; when she suddenly gets a vision of Lissa who is panicking because she's positive she's going to fail her test. Rose runs out of the room, telling The Council she has to go help Lissa. Of course, the thing is this doesn't go unnoticed by some of the members of the Council; the fact that, for some reason, Rose seems to know what Lissa is feeling. But at the same time, The Headmaster says if Rose leaves, she'll be expelled. But Rose goes anyway.

Rose meets up with Lissa and we find out that Lissa is, well, she doesn't want to be Queen. At the same time, she knows that, if she chooses to just run away, all of her brother’s plans to make society a bit more equal won’t happen. So, she doesn't want to do it, but she feels like she has to. Rose gives her a pep talk and Lissa starts her test. At first, it doesn't look like it's doing going well. It looks like she's not going to be able to pick an element when, all of a sudden, she seems to choose fire and everybody's happy. Well, Lissa is happy until she sees Christian in the wings, and it's very clear that he has faked the test to make it look like her specialty is fire. Of course, this is probably going to have bigger consequences later on. This leads up to this moment where she, you know, calls him out on it and they end up sharing a passion kiss. But while they're sharing a moment, Rose, who is at a bar drinking because she figures she's about to be kicked out, feels the passion between Lissa and Christian's kiss and end up fainting. And she faints right into Demetri's arms because, of course. And he carries her back to the bunker.

I should also point out that, just before the moment between Lissa and Christian, Dimitri did tell Lissa about Rose’s issue and. Lissa, being the possible future queen, is able to convince the headmistress that Rose should stay on.

Anyway, Rose wakes up the next day and finds Lissa in the bunker. What Lissa can't figure out is how much Rose must have drunk to pass out, and Rose tells her, how she passed out after she felt the kiss. And then Rose also mentioned how she’s been getting these dreams of Lissa after the crash and we find out that that's not Rose’s dream, that's Lissa. So clearly somehow there is this connection between the two and they need to figure out how and why.

Before I finish, just some other things that happened in the episode that might become important later on. We have a character who is named Mia. She was the fiancé of Andre and, now that she's not going to be Queen, she is kind of in the process of helping Lissa learn her role. But she meets a guardian that has been in the past couple episodes called Meredith, and they seem to be hitting it off. We have, and I'm not sure what the guy’s name is. He's been in the first two episodes. I'm gonna call him douche boy Mouri, and he clearly is skirting the lines of becoming a Strigori. But the most important part is that we have a guardian whose name I don't know yet. This Guardian seems to be an expert on all things Stragori, and he seems to have noticed that there have been some odd occurrences going on with this them recently; which everybody has been ignoring him about. He also seems to have a crush on Sonia. But the thing is, is that Sonia is very much in tune with the world; more so than people think she is. And she shows this guardian that she has been studying all the Strigori attacks recently and what she's noticing is that they seem to be attacking weak points at the Academy. In other words, the idea that the Strigori are mindless creatures may not be correct. It seems like that they are trying to figure out a way to break in or break past the magical barriers protecting the Academy, and at the end of the episode, it looks like that they have succeeded. And that's kind of where the episode leads off.

#vampire academy #rosemaire hathoway #lissa dragomir #christian ozera #mia karp #sonya karp #dimitri belikov

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rapifessor · 7 months

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Pokéchronology, Volume I: Yellow

Day 14 (FINAL DAY)

It's time.

Today is the day that I beat Pokémon Yellow, marking the end of the first volume of Pokéchronology. It's been a while since the last update. I've been busy and I wanted to make sure I had the time to push all the way through to the end of the game for the final post. I haven't yet completed the Pokédex, in fact I'm decently far away from accomplishing that still. But covering that in Pokéchronology doesn't seem quite right. There wouldn't be much to say about it, it's just running around catching Pokémon that I don't have yet. Maybe I'll talk about it in a generic blog post later on. In any case, I'm done with Pokémon Yellow for now.

For those of you who have been reading this series, what did you think of the first volume? What things do you think could be improved, and how can I make this series more interesting going forward? I have some ideas of my own, but I'd like to get some feedback so that I know what works and what doesn't.

With that out of the way, here's what happened. The final spoilers for Pokémon Yellow that you'll ever hear from me (probably):

Elite Four

Well, this is it. Time to run the gauntlet. I gather all the healing items and Elixirs I can muster up, with some X Specials and X Accuracies for good measure, in case I need them. I also use up all the vitamins I had stored away: two Calciums and three Carbos for Holy, and two Proteins for Mycoboss. I'm as ready as can be, without buying a ton of stuff or leveling up more.

Lorelei

The first challenger is Lorelei, the Ice type specialist. With Holy in front, this battle shouldn't be too difficult. She opens with Dewgong, who I swiftly dispatch with two Thunderbolts. Next, Lorelei sends out Cloyster, who is dealt with similarly. Her third Pokémon is Slowbro, who is not Ice type, but once again falls to two Thunderbolts. Jynx, her fourth Pokémon, proves to be a bit stronger against Holy due to her lack of weakness. I wasn't sure what moves she could use, so I kept in Holy to play defensively. Thankfully, Jynx doesn't have much HP, so three Surfs are enough to take her out.

Finally, Lorelei sounds out her Lapras, who takes three Thunderbolts to defeat, and the battle ends without me ever changing Pokémon. Her Pokémon were surprisingly tanky, but none of them were especially threatening either. It's kind of weird to me that one of the Elite Four is only packing five Pokémon, like come on. Take off the kiddie gloves already, I can handle trainers with full teams at this point.

Bruno

Moving on, the next of the Elite Four is Bruno, who again... has only five Pokémon. He opens the fight with an Onix. Lol. Lmao, even. Hitmonchan also fell to one Surf from Holy. I get that they're Fighting type, but god damn their Special is shit if they can't even survive one non-super-effective move against them. Hitmonlee is the same, although Hi Jump Kick does a lot of damage to Holy and they used Double Team, so Holy missed the first two Surfs before one-shotting them. After that is... Onix again? Really dude?

Bruno finally brings out his Machamp, so I decide it's time to bring out Miles and destroy them. For some reason, Bruno uses an X Defend. He did that on his other Pokémon too. Come on, dude! That's not going to save you from a 90 Base Power Special move with STAB and super effectiveness against your Pokémon! Long story short, I OHKO'd all of Bruno's Pokémon. Damn that was disappointing. But I suppose I should have expected that from the guy who only uses Rock and Fighting types in his team.

Agatha

Maybe Agatha will be more of a challenge. At first she looks like a Ghost type specialist, which should be interesting... except the only Ghost types in Generation I are the Gastly line, which are also all Poison type. Anyway, she sends out ya boi Gengar, who can really take some hits, even from Miles. But all Agatha does is spam potions while I spam Psychic moves and eventually take out her Pokémon. Next is Golbat, so I guess Agatha's more Poison specialist than Ghost, and I switch to BIG RAT but she immediately switches out Golbat for Haunter. Thunder does a good chunk of damage but I quickly switch back to Miles to finish them off. Golbat is back, takes one Psychic to defeat. Then comes Arbok. I could Psychic again, but instead I choose to have Prinzessin take care of them with Earthquake.

Down to her last Pokémon, and guess what? It's ya boi Gengar again, but this time they know Psychic for some reason. Whatever, Miles go brrr. Man, Poison types kinda suck don't they? At least against my team, they do.

Lance

The last member of the Elite Four is Lance, a Dragon specialist, who's poised to be the greatest challenge yet... I'm kidding, he starts with a Gyarados who hits Holy with a Hyper Beam. Really spicy move, but now Holy attacks, and Gyarados has a quad weakness to Electric. Surprisingly, Gyarados TANKS it with a sliver of HP left, but now they're Paralyzed and Holy outspeeds them to finish them off with Surf. Here come the actual Dragon types: Dragonair. Gets one-shot by Ice Beam, oops. Then Lance sends in another Dragonair, and you don't have to wonder what happens to them.

Aerodactyl on the other hand is a little spooky. I don't know what moves they have and they outspeed my entire team. The first move they use is Fly, so Aerodactyl dodges Holy's Ice Beam. I switch to BIG RAT to tank and hopefully deal some damage, but Aerodactyl is still faster, so BIG RAT eats a Hyper Beam and faints. Back to Holy, I manage to land the Ice Beam and it OHKO's Aerodactyl. Lance's ace is Dragonite, which does a fair amount of damage with Fire Blast as I heal up Holy to take them out. Once again, a single Ice Beam is enough to defeat them. Ice may not be a very strong type overall, but when it's strong, it's STRONG. Ice moves are pretty powerful, man.

The Champion

The Elite Four defeated, there's only one trainer standing in my way before I become the Champion myself, and that's Gary.

I knew I was more than capable of handing his team by now. That much was made clear in my last battle with him, so even with his team at their strongest, there's not much they can do to stop my.

The battle begins with Holy versus Sandslash once again, and Sandslash is too slow to do anything before Holy's Surf drops them.

Alakazam is next, and they prove to be somewhat formidable. Mycoboss does good damage still, but it takes three Leech Lifes to fully deplete Alakazam's HP. Unfortunately, Alakazam kept spamming Recover, resulting in a stalemate, before they get a cheeky crit and one-shot Mycoboss with Psychic. Well, time for my backup strategy: physical Mr. Mime. Miles Body Slams his way to victory.

Exeggutor is much more tanky than Alakazam though, so Body Slam spam doesn't work as well against them. I could switch to Holy here and probably one-shot Exeggutor with Ice Beam, but I didn't for fear of potentially dangerous Grass moves. Instead I choose to revive Mycoboss. They duel Exeggutor and eventually emerge victorious, despite Gary's use of healing items and Hypnosis spam.

Oh, hey Cloyster old buddy! They're literally weaker than Lorelei's Cloyster, what the fuck. Can't even survive one Thunderbolt.

Ninetales comes in and Fire Spins Holy. With Holy being unable to move, Ominous is the obvious choice. Ninetales barely survives a Hydro Pump, leaving Ominous to finish them off with ease.

With all but one of his Pokémon soundly defeated, Gary has no choice but to accept his fate. He can't beat my Pokémon. Despite being 15 levels ahead, having a super effective move at his disposal, and a massive speed advantage, Jolteon has no chance against Prinzessin. The fight ends with a single Earthquake.

Ending

And there you have it. Gary is in disbelief at his loss. Professor Oak comes along to tell him how shit he is and that he lost because he didn't love his Pokémon enough. Very supportive! I'm congratulated on my victory and admitted to the Hall of Fame, where my winning team is shown off one by one, in all their glory. I watch the credits, and it's revealed that I beat the game with a total play time of 47 hours and 9 minutes; just under two real-time days.

But this is not where it ends. There is still one thing left to do...

Cerulean Cave

That's right, it's time to beat the postgame dungeon and catch Mewtwo, the true final challenge. I get organized and set out for Cerulean City. There's one trainer that I missed just past the entrance to Cerulean Cave. You need Surf to get to her anyway so it's not like it would have made sense to come here before now. Before entering the cave, I ensure that I have the Master Ball in hand, as I will likely need it to catch Mewtwo.

Now we enter the dungeon. Cerulean Cave appears to be somewhat maze-like, but in reality there's only one path to follow with a plethora of items tucked away in corners and secret spots. Most of them are Ultra Balls, Max Elixirs, or Full Restores, but there are also several PP Ups here. I used one on Holy's Ice Beam, one on BIG RAT's Thunder, and one on Prinzessin's Earthquake.

While progressing I fight a lot of wild battles against powerful level 50+ Pokémon. There are a few that I hadn't caught yet, so I made a point of catching as many as I could. Got a Ditto named Ittledew, a Venomoth named Mothra, Danksta the Gloom, and Bleleleh the Lickitung. Not much else goes on, it's just a straightforward path to the end of the cave.

Mewtwo

Enter Mewtwo, the true final boss of Pokémon Yellow. They're level 70 and EXTREMELY powerful. Now, I could just toss the Master Ball and call it a day, but I decided to try and catch Mewtwo the old-fashioned way, as if I had used the Master Ball on a Pokémon already.

My first thought was to send in Miles to do some tanking and try to Paralyze Mewtwo with Body Slam, but Mewtwo takes out more than half of Miles' HP with a single Psychic, and that's saying a lot. I don't think any of my Pokémon take less damage from Psychic moves than Miles, which is kind of a problem.

I figure Mycoboss can at least do some damage, having a super effective move and a high Attack stat, but Mewtwo uses Barrier and Leech Life barely makes a dent in their HP. Things aren't looking great here. I have to disable Mewtwo because they're just too strong, so Spore time it is. Mewtwo recovers and undoes what little damage I had dealt to them before, but I try to make this a war of attrition with Sleep and Leech Life. It doesn't work, and before I can put Mewtwo back to sleep they one-shot Mycoboss with Psychic.

Being in a tough situation, I figure what I need to do is get Mycoboss revived to put Mewtwo to sleep again, and switch to someone else to deal damage. I had Miles pop back in to take the fall while I used my turn to revive Mycoboss. Miles doesn't get KO'd, so I switch to Mycoboss and they manage to survive long enough to land the Spore. From there I switch to Holy to deal as much damage as I can with Ice Beam.

I manage to drain Mewtwo's HP enough that I can start trying to catch them now, but I need to put them back to sleep. I heal up Mycoboss, tank Mewtwo's attacks again, use Spore, and start spamming balls. It's only a matter of time before the Genetic Pokémon is caught, thus ending the battle, completing Cerulean Cave, and completing Pokémon Yellow.

Some Final Thoughts

As my first experience playing traditional Pokémon, I found Pokémon Yellow to be surprisingly enjoyable. The game is overall very easy, though there were some moments where I felt the difficulty was decently balanced. I was worried I'd find the game barebones and archaic, but instead I was surprised by the amount of depth and intrigue that this little Gameboy game had. Satoru Iwata really was the GOAT for making this game possible. RIP legend.

Pokémon as a series really rewards you for good thinking and knowledge of its mechanics and intricacies. Adapting to its challenges and figuring out how to overcome unexpected difficulties, turning the tide of a battle is very satisfying. It's a very cerebral game at times, and I was thoroughly entertained by its problem solving aspects. I was never really bored at any point during my time playing.

Like I mentioned in previous updates to Volume I of Pokéchronology, there were plenty of things that irked me about Pokémon Yellow. Most of them are technical limitations, but there's nothing that can be done about them. From a game design standpoint, Pokémon types are pretty unbalanced and some the Pokémon themselves just get completely shafted by this.

Psychic types specifically are way too strong thanks to the Special stat determining both damage taken and received from Special moves, and their sheer effectiveness against a huge percentage of Pokémon in Generation I. This isn't helped by the relative weakness and small move selection of the Bug type, the only real counter to Psychic. The only reason Bug still performs decently against Psychic is that most Psychic types have garbage Defense and HP.

But ultimately, none of Pokémon Yellow's faults really soured my experience, as it's very possible to work around them and build a team that's prepared to deal with anything. I'm very much looking forward to the next game, Pokémon Crystal, and my journey through the Johto region. I imagine it will be even more entertaining as it ramps up the complexity with a host of new Pokémon, new types, and new mechanics.

Expect the debut of the next volume of Pokéchronology soon. It will be much longer and hopefully more interesting than the first.

#rapifessor rambles #thoughts #long post #pkmn #pokémon #pokeblogging #pokemon #very long post #pokechronology #pokechron #classic games #retro gaming #pokemon yellow

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carygrace · 1 year

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The antique chair restoration project—part 8

So, this is it! I think it’s finally done at last.

I’ve been working on it, but not posting about it, so let me bring this series up to date!

There were a couple of ever so slightly loose joints in the frame, so I whacked them apart with a mallet just enough to get a little bit of hide glue into them. Probably needn’t have bothered, but IME a loose joint just gets looser, and then loosens other things, so may as well nip it in the bud, right? Yeah. Isn’t this a gorgeous bit of joinery? I doubt these tight-fitting joints even needed glue to begin with, but after 150 years (at least…I’m not sure of age, but I’m going with Victorian for my best guess), wood can be expected to shrink a little.

I gave it a few coats of shellac, followed by some paste wax polish, because the original finish was badly worn to nonexistent in places and I wanted to protect the wood. Obviously I left the lovely patina alone though! I did have to glue a few splintery bits back down, and fill a few woodworm and knot holes, but not much work was needed on the frame (apart from the tacking rail, that is).

The upholstery was straightforward. I would have liked to use tacks throughout to stay in keeping with the era in which the chair was made, but the tacking rail was in pretty bad shape, and is less than an inch thick (much of that being riddled with holes from previous tacks). I filled all the damage, but decided to do the webbing with tacks and the rest with staples to be kinder and gentler to the frame (much smaller holes and fewer and less violent impacts).

Webbing. (I used copper tacks to attach it, just because removing the incredibly rusty steel ones was such a royal pain in the arse, and I wouldn’t knowingly inflict that on any future person!) Obviously the quality control department had to be involved for this.

This is overkill, I know, but I do not want this seat to sag and cause the leather to split again! That would really piss me off. So, overkill it is! It’s not going anywhere. Here’s the hessian foundation. This seat is really shallow, and I’m constrained to the original proportions by the leather cover, so I’m just going to do one layer of hessian with an integral edge roll (stuffed with horsehair), and then stitch around that to create a very firm and defined square edge profile.

I forgot to take a photo when I was sewing in the bridle loops to hold the hair, but I did take one after putting in the horsehair:

Edge stitching:

I think I ended up stitching around it three times.

Then some cotton and wool wadding:

Then calico stretched over tightly:

And finally the leather cover:

I fastened it down first with a few tacks, and then started to put in the brass nails. Unfortunately more of them broke in the process (only the heads are brass, and the steel parts were badly rusted and quite fragile). So I found some in my stash that were close to the same size (there were actually two different kinds on it, so who knows what is original anyway), and set about faux-patinating them with vinegar and salt so they didn’t look silly next to the old ones. They’re not as dark as I’d like, but I’m in a hurry to finish this up and don’t want to have to order any specialist patina solution for brass (the ones I have are for silver, and are not very effective on brass). It’ll be fine. They’ll continue to darken with time.

I did a bit more faux painting to perfect the look of the seat:

I couldn’t resist trying it out at this point. The seat is very comfortable and very firm! No sagging is remotely likely for the foreseeable future.

I wrote up an account of what I did, and tucked it into the webbing underneath with one of my cards, in case a future person takes the seat apart again someday.

Finally the bottoming cloth went on.

I did a bit more painting on the seat once it was in place, to emphasise areas of “wear” and “fading” and make it look more authentic.

Next I gave the leather a few coats of Renaissance Wax to polish it and protect it.

A few of the cracks have become visible again now that the leather seat cover has been under tension for a couple days, but it is light surface cracking only, and I’m confident my repairs are structurally sound, strong, and will be fine. I will let it all settle for a few months and then re-fill the surface cracks with some flexible filler to make them invisible again, but there’s no point in doing that until the newly stretched leather has settled in for a while and been used (sat on).

All in all, I’m very pleased with the result!

#Antiques #AntiqueChair #AntiqueFurniture #restoration #AntiqueRestoration #LeatherChair #EmbossedLeather #AntiqueChairRestorationProject #LeatherRepair #LeatherDye #LeatherPaint #AntiqueFinish #LeatherAndOakChair #upholstery #TraditionalUpholstery #horsehair

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qinyueguan · 1 year

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Critical analysis

Ryan, M.-L. (2003;2000;) Narrative as Virtual Reality: Immersion and Interactivity in Literature and Electronic Media. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.pp.283-285.

Marie-Laure Ryan is an independent academic and former software consultant. This represents her as an authority on both theory and technology. A specialist in narrative, media, and user relations, this book is a study of surprising depth and breadth, published by Johns Hopkins University Press in 2000, which uses the concepts of immersion and interaction to develop a phenomenology of reading.

Selective media, in the realm of gaming as an immersive gaming experience and in hypertextual narrative cinema as a multi-branching option, now tends to immerse itself into interactive fun and interactivity enhances the immersive experience, which brings us to the fusion of interactivity and immersion, in Marie-Laure Ryan's view selective narrative works and the relationship between the two in metafiction is the same, she discusses the existing relationship between interactivity and immersion through the process of deconstructing the notion of the virtual in the reader's mind in metafiction, before proposing a new form of relationship between the two. This trend towards the fusion of interactivity and immersion drew me to this text, and unless there is an emphasis on Medium specificity, the medium of creating an integrated experience will play a larger and more comprehensive role in the designs I produce as a result of the user's questions.

The author argues for a relationship between interactivity and immersion, suggesting that the successful integration of interactivity and immersion in media must exclude any self-reflexive devices. She supports this theory through a three-step construction, firstly using hypertext as a simplified model to distinguish between textual virtual worlds and real worlds, then using the metafictional case analogy which is the either/or of emphasising virtual presence and weakening it, so that self-reflexive device dependence is what steals the reader's attention in selective narratives i.e. weakening virtual presence, giving symbols as the key to deciding whether to emphasise or weaken. The final paragraph illustrates how successfully VR constructs symbols to allow the reader to interact directly with their body as they would in the real world, concealing the symbols in the action. Here is how each paragraph is specifically constructed.

Page 283, second paragraph

The text addresses the matter of the selective narrative reader becoming an author by pointing out the problem that the selective narrative reader becomes an author in a different way from the traditional sense of authorship, by constructing or transforming the development of the virtual world from an external perspective, which also leads to the fact that the power of the path that the hypertext reader can choose is now in the hands of the original author anyway, who provides a limited number of directional paths that the hypertext reader cannot do beyond the rules of this virtual world and cannot create something new.

Page 284, first paragraph

Several conceptual terms appear in this paragraph, and before analysing how these concepts are applied in the case, it is useful to list these concepts.

self-reflexive devices texts that repeatedly refer to their fictional status

Metafictional metafiction is a new form of fiction in which virtual worlds are unobtrusively constructed, emphasising the notion of virtual non-existence.

Metanarrative transcends the unformed notion of traditional narrative and is a narrative of historical meaning, experience, or knowledge that can embody the larger world through small stories, with the ultimate aim of forming a grand narrative.

ontological alienation ontological detachment, separation from dependent entities

Immersive is used here alongside self-reflexive devices as a means of interactive narrative, one aiming to ignore fictional facts, the other to emphasise fiction.

The work of Michael Joyce's films I'm Your Man relies on the emphasis on the virtual world's virtuality as does the metafiction of ontological alienation, but if one directly endorses the virtual world as structured, at which point the fictional world returns to its ontological status, another case is John Fowles' The French Lieutenant's Woman, the reader's attention is drawn to the symbol when the virtual is emphasized, and to the world when the fictional fact is known and the fiction is ignored, and the symbol and the world cannot exist at the same time because they represent the emphasis on the fictional and the ignorance of the fictional respectively, so the symbol and the world The reader can only choose one or the other.

Page 284, second paragraph, which goes to the end of page 285.

The ideal VR experience is used against the experience of interactivity and immersion cut off to find out how the ideal VR experience blends the two. Here the ideal VR experience references both the ideal virtual world and the real world, and the textual environment as a counter case no the main difference between the two is the application of semiotics, here both ideal and non-ideal virtual worlds have symbols present, and the expression of symbols becomes the central point in this debate, the good direction is a return from the internet form of interaction to the real world form of interaction, the real world is where there is no click and open something, but rather what the body of the subject exists to do, i.e. a return to ontology, with physical attachment again to emphasise the sense of presence.

Overall, this is a successful argument, one can see that the author is not pushy in giving her opinion, she uses the simpler hypertext model to deconstruct by analogy any media work that uses interactivity and immersion, again analysing the means of successful cases so that unsuccessful ones are equally supporting the argument, proving in reverse The validity of the argument in the context of existing works. Moreover, she uses practical examples to analyse the rationale for the key concept, facilitating her use of this key concept in subsequent arguments, with a small span of thinking at each stage, solidly referencing the concept and then presenting her own.

People have had fantasies and goals for virtual worlds for a long time, working to make up for the regrets of reality in virtual worlds. 'Virtual world technology' emerged around the 1990s, and from then until now, artists and technicians have been working hard to fill in the technology and theories under this concept, but still cannot claim that the existing Here Marie-Laure Ryan's theory of a new blend of interactivity and immersion certainly adds another brick to the wall of this great project, which, if realised, would free the reader from the shackles of the original author and truly have the experience of creating a world inside a virtual world.

#Sources and Significance

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darkandcurious · 1 year

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Story 2: When death says “Hi” (A True Story)

Note: This story was first published in audio form. Listen to it on Spotify or on Youtube.

Hello, Darlings I'm Willow, and you’re reading the Dark and Curious Blog.

How’s your Halloween celebration been this year? The COVID-19 pandemic is far from over. I hope you don’t let your guard down and you’re still keeping yourselves healthy and safe.

I know many of you miss the festivities, especially during these months. I am not fond of parties, but I like that the All Hallows’ Eve spirit still lives on. To be honest, I’m more excited about Halloween than any other holiday we have. Even more than my birthday

While I sit and think about what could have been without the pandemic, something reminds me that death lurks around the corner. I decided to share my personal experience because no one knows when death will come to take us away. This might not be as scary as you expect it to be. But as someone who experienced it and realized things could have turned out differently, I was afraid, or in this case, I was afraid for my life.

Please know that my parents retold the following events. Still, the experience I’ve had is all from what I remember. And this is how it began…

It happened during the early ’90s when I spent much time in my pediatrician’s clinic because of constant re-infection in my respiratory tract. To make the story short, I was a sickly child back then. My parents thought I was just clumsy and couldn’t sit still because, you know, I was just a kid. We didn’t know what was wrong with me. But I recently learned that I had a rare condition called Sydenham Chorea, affecting children in developing countries like the Philippines.

Anyway, it all started when I was six years old. My involuntary movements became so excessive, and my health was rapidly declining. So my parents decided to have me checked by a specialist. I spent much time confined in the University of Santo Tomas Hospital. We live in the province, so the hospital served as my “home away from home”. The doctors already knew my family and me because we had stayed there for so long. I knew it was hard for my parents to see me that way. The hospital bills that kept piling up even made it worse. At that time, I had no clue that my dad had to sell his firearm so we’d have money for the bills and the rest of our expenses. It was rather costly, but we had no choice.

It got so bad that I had to be taken to the Intensive Care Unit. The infection led to a cardiac complication that had to be treated immediately. And that’s when things worsened— I had a 50% chance to live and a 50% chance that I wouldn’t make it. Of course, I didn’t know this then. The only thing I remember was that I had a vivid dream in the middle of the chaos we were in. It was so vivid that I heard the night sounds, I could smell the familiar scent of our house, and could see my siblings sleeping soundly. I was surprised I was home and walking around the house that night.

I remember that my youngest sister likes sleeping alone on the bed. So when she was awoken by something (which I didn’t know what), she cried and pushed grandma away, who was then sleeping beside her. Grandma, who was as surprised as my sister, blurted out, “Oh, why don’t you want me here?!!”, still reeling from waking up suddenly.

That seemed odd. Why would Grandma sleep beside my sister? My grandparents live in their own house. It was even more strange that my mom and dad were not there. They were with me through it all.

But It’s just my grandmother and my siblings. I tried to talk to my sister, telling her to stop crying. But she wouldn’t stop. And my dream suddenly ended. I woke up still in my hospital bed and hospital gown—that’s when I knew that I didn’t come home. Or so I thought.

When I woke up, I told my mom I dreamed about home, Nanay, and my siblings.

Since I’ve had that dream, I believed it was just that. A dream. Little did I know that all this time, that event took place while I was fighting for dear life.

#out of body experience #creepystories #scary stories #halloween #philippinehorror #horror stories #true story

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businessarticles123 · 2 years

Text

Which is better, machine or hand plaster

The above advantages of mechanical mortar-like Plaster Spray Machine, obviously, unequivocally and really cover the old procedure for mortar - manual. Regardless, to fathom not uneven, which mortar is better, machine or manual, finishing relative investigation is significant. Truly around then would you have the option to see the qualification between these techniques

Since here we are examining individual clients, we will simultaneously think about a solitary house and a townhouse, or if nothing else, orders for works from 50 m 2 to 250 m 2.

At the expense, dry mix for plastering stations is more affordable than a practically identical for work with a scoop. Sounds convincing and all the while analyzes to the real world. Nonetheless, who said that gypsum-based mixes will be used for manual plastering? They are incredibly abnormal to work with and financially costly. The use of cement, sand and concrete blender prompts the way that materials for manual work cost 2-3 times less. What's more the thicker the mortar layer, the more noticeable the qualification.

Without a doubt, while using a dry game plan during the action of a machine station, 3 kg of mortar are saved per 1 m 2 (usage 13 kg versus 16 kg, independently). In any case, while superseding it with cement-sand mortar, this advantage evaporates in light of the minimal expense of the mortar blend.

The idea of work is higher. The difference between Spraying Plaster On Walls and manual plaster, in the field of mortar quality, is whimsical. Subject to advancement, there is no differentiation in quality. The issue of more outrageous surface-breaking in cement mortar is handled by using fiberglass fibers. Its usage even more truly keeps the mortar layer from contracting and breaking than in a gypsum game plan applied by a mechanized methodology.

The washroom and restroom should be put by hand because of the mortar game plan. The best decision is to impart these works to a tiler, so everything looks perfect with the idea of the laid tiles later - they won't move the shortcoming on each other.

As might be self-evident, the potential gains of plastering stations have not yet been found. Perhaps they are in the cost of work, which is routinely a conclusive dispute.

Which is more affordable

Costs for machine plastering work start at 220 rubles/m2 (data for St. Petersburg), for manual plastering - from 250-300 rubles/m2 for the chief layer on account of the necessity for fundamental work and around 550 rubles. /m 2 while applying 3 layers.

All along, everything is clear here. Nevertheless, not everything is so fundamental. Expecting everything is clear with the retail cost of plasterers with a scoop, then, on the contrary side it is formed in view of numerous components.

1. Decided esteem it is used with a volume of work from 2,000 m 2 to say the least. With a reduction in volume, the cost of plastering augmentations. The client could dissent - the machine station will complete the work in 5-6 hours. I will pay for me and I will win. Anyway, huge centers are disregarded here:

It requires speculation to set up the surface and present the signs. They will be associated with the expense;

There are unplastered inclines - they are made only physically. They are not and can't be in the worth rundown. It won't endeavor to welcome these works from outside - specialists by and large oddball, since there is a tough spot, yet negligible use. Pros mechanized mortar they take 1.5 two times something different for such work since their work is overall enjoyed significantly higher;

The expense integrates the hour of moving, setting up the station for work, and washing it close to the completion of the shift. These totals are gigantic while being fixed. It is one thing to isolate a colossal number of rubles by 2,000 m 2, and another, by 50-250 m 2.

2. The expense for work prohibits the cost of force. The property administrator ought to pay.

3. Another part of machine mortar - the expense accomplishes reject work on the foundation of mortar corners. They are paid freely.

To totally get what is better - computerized or manual plastering of dividers, we will do a drawn-out calculation of the cost of work per 100 m 2 of the divider.

Experts of machine mortar:

1. Fast application.

Plastering in a one-room apartment suite ought to be conceivable in just three days.

You ought to end up being physical for 7-10 days (yet the work can be accelerated expecting that you use a couple of supervisors at the same time).

That is, the machine method is 2-3 times faster than the manual one. However, right at the period of use (see nuances under).

2. Speculation reserves.

Machine mortar grants you to get a good deal on filler work. Afterward "manual" plastering it is normal to apply 2 layers of mud, and after machine mortar - only 1 layer.

To apply dirt in 2 layers costs 300 rubles for each sq meter, in 1 layer - 150 rubles.

Out and out, with machine mortar, divider fixes will cost 150 rubles less per square meter. Assume that the region of the dividers in the space is around 100 square meters, and that suggests we will save 15,000 rubles. We will mortar one room with a divider area of 40 square meters, and that infers we will save 6,000 rubles.

End

The above disputes say that a confidential client has quite recently a solitary choice: cement, sand, concrete mixer. Home enhancement is only sometimes completed without mortar - a solid and fruitful covering, the interest for which is simply creating all through the long haul. However, all periods of plastering require gigantic genuine costs, so the value of its manual execution isn't high.

Due to the consistent improvement of finishing progress, not simply moment dry mixes have been cultivated that work on the availability of mortar, at this point also equipment for applying mortar to the base unequivocally.

The advancement of mechanical techniques for plastering essentially worked with created by finishers, yet clients consistently have a trademark request - to further develop things or more unfortunate, such a consummation contrasts from a hand-made covering. Consider the advantages and downsides of this advancement in relationship within the model way plastering, the qualities of which are notable.

For more - Gypsum Plaster Machine, Spraying Plaster On Walls, Plaster Machine, Cement Plaster

#Gypsum Plaster Machine #Spraying Plaster On Walls #Plaster Machine #Cement Plaster

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eloves-writes · 3 years

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Don't know if this is a dumb idea, feel free to ignore it if this isn't the type of thing you write

The reader and Spencer are married and both work at the BAU and they have a 4 year old son. And unfortunately their sitter canceled so they had to bring him at the office, which was possible cause it was paper work day

a/n : not dumb at all! this is super cute, i’m personally not great with kids so this might not be my best writing ever but i really hope you still enjoy! i used the season 7 team bc they’re my personal faves but i’d imagine it as more season 14/15 spencer :)

baby genius at work

——————————

stupid job. stupid criminals committing crimes on a sunday evening. stupid police in tampa needing the bau’s help on said sunday evening when they definitely could solve it themselves. at least you didn’t have to go to florida, they just needed an over-the-phone consult but still- it was generally inconvenient to get called into work with no notice and a 4 year old at home. you could get some paperwork done before monday though, if that was a plus.

“spence?” you called from the kitchen, quickly trying to pack your son’s overnight bag. you hoped that a sitter would pull through and he could stay the night somewhere that wasn’t your office- a specialist unit for profiling serial killers, rapists, and pedophiles wasn’t an ideal babysitters club. “did the sitter call you back?”

your husband entered the room followed by your son, theo. they were both smiling mischievously like they’d been doing something you’d disapprove of in the next room. they probably were.

“yeah,” spencer said, running a hand through his overgrown, messy hair. “can’t make it, too late notice.”

theo ran around your feet with far too much energy for a small boy at 8pm, his hair just as messy and unkempt as his father’s. you sighed irritably, throwing the dinosaur backpack over your shoulder along with your own work bag.

“did you try jj? maybe will could watch theo, he’d love to see henry and micheal.” you ruffled the boy’s hair as he jumped up and down, trying to calm him.

“will’s on duty, they have a sitter.”

“crap. i mean, shoot. erm, we’ll just have to take him to work,” you sighed, searching the kitchen counter for your phone you’d somehow misplaced in the last 15 minutes.

“what?” spencer exclaimed nervously. “we can’t take our son to work, he’s four! what about all the files? what about-”

“i’m going to work with mommy and daddy!” theo shouted happily. you gave your husband an amused but sympathetic look. his eyes told you he’d given in.

“garcia can watch him. she never does any work anyway and he’ll fall asleep in an hour, it’s fine- we just need to get going or we’ll be even later than we already are.” before you could even comment on the still-missing phone, you saw theo was playing with it and took it back before loading him into the car with his overnight back and blanket; you had no idea if you’d be back home tonight.

soon enough you made it to quantico, and despite all hopes looking good that your son had fallen asleep, his sixth sense of impending excitement woke him up as you pulled in to the parking lot. spencer held his hand to walk him inside and you handled the bags. garcia was walking along the corridor as the elevator reached the bau floor and squealed at the sight of your son.

“oh my goodness! it’s the baby genius! to what do i owe this pleasure?” she smiled, theo running into her arms. you heard a faint “auntie penelope!”- garcia absolutely adored all the team’s children to the ends of the earth and back.

“can i babysit? can i watch him? please, because you're my favourite genius lovebirds in the whole world?” garcia asked excitedly, wrapping her arms around him. you laughed and nodded.

“he is all yours, pen. let me know if he starts getting tired,” you changed you focus to theo. “behave yourself for auntie penelope.”

she smiled happily, leading him towards the bat cave to let you and spencer focus on the case. theo liked the bat cave, all penelope’s little things on her desk and all the screens and things to play with. he was unlike his father in that way; spencer didn't like computers and avoided the sort of well-meaning chaos of garcia’s desk, but theo was like him in other ways- he adored reading, and had sounded like a walking thesaurus since the day he learned to speak. the funniness he obviously got from you, but the hair was unquestionably inherited from your husband too. spencer placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you into the bullpen to your desk where emily gave you a friendly smile and carried on with her paperwork; you could tell it was really not an exhilarating case because everyone looked tired. you suspected they’d cheer up if they knew theo was here, but you wanted to get some actual work done before they all wanted to be his favourite aunt or uncle.

you did all get a few reports finished and a short consult on the case before garcia came back into the bullpen with a sleepy theo about an hour later, the team all turning their heads and suddenly looking less tired and bored.

“you didn’t tell us baby genius was joining the team tonight!” jj said, getting up from her desk to hug him. she was closely followed by emily and morgan, the latter of which was convinced he was the superior god-parent to jj. garcia was still mad you didn’t choose her, but she definitely loved him just as much.

spencer stood beside you and placed his hand on your waist, the way he always liked to stand. “we weren’t planning on it,” you yawned. “sitter cancelled.”

“i’m wayyy more fun than a sitter,” garcia promised. you were quite sure she was.

the team all stood around fussing over theo, who was more than happy with the attention but looked like he’d fall asleep the moment it stopped. you took a second to appreciate the way the team loved your’s and spencer’s son; the job took absolutely everything out of them except their endless love for each other and their families. it showed you the ugliest people with the ugliest lives, but they still chose to prioritise the purity and innocence of a child. they had so, so much love to give and wisdom to share- when you and spencer decided to bring a baby into the world, you knew they would be raised by the best family that could be. every member of the team was part of that family, just the way you wanted it to be forever and ever.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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