#we didn't have a blue ray player

[dearly-somber]

Twister | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, eventual romance, fluff, humor, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, found family, high school!au, eventual smut

-> w/c. 1180

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. Devil All The Time is an actual book I read, and, to this day, it’s still one of my all-time favorites. The excerpt at the beginning is also real!

-> warnings. None!!

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Aug. 16th, 2022 @ 15:00

-> fin. Sat., Sept. 16th, 2023 @ 16:59

-> edited. Mon., Oct. 30th, 2023 @ 23:03

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Unless he had whiskey running through his veins, Willard came to the clearing every morning and evening to talk to God. Arvin didn't know which was worse, the drinking or the praying. As far back as he could remember, it seemed that his father had fought the Devil all the time—

Someone knocks on Jungkook’s door. You look up from your book (The Devil All The Time by Donald Ray Pollock) and smile smugly at Yoongi as he stands in the doorway, a grumpy pout on his face. “Can I help you?” you ask saccharinely.

He grumbles something you don’t catch before saying, “We’re playing Twisters downstairs.”

You gasp dramatically. “Am I dreaming or are you actually being nice to me for once?”

He growls low in his throat. “Don’t push your luck, human.”

You set your book face-down and skip past him, bounding downstairs with a smug grin. “I’m not leaving anytime soon, Boongles, so you better get used to it!”

“What did you just—“

“Y/N!” Jungkook’s face breaks out into a blinding smile as you enter the living room a few paces in front of Yoongi, his metaphorical tail wagging excitedly.

“Hey, Kook. I heard you’re thinking about me,” you tease, gently patting his back when he rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a hug. As you pull away, you ask, “So! How are we doing this?”

“I was thinking teams, since it’s only four of us playing,” Hoseok says, looking up from where he’s slung an arm around a still-grumpy Yoongi’s shoulders. “We can have two players move during one spin, and the other two the next, that way we can take turns so it’s not too chaotic.”

“The others aren’t playing?” you ask, kind of disappointed. Oh, the amount of chaos there would’ve been if more of them had joined you.

Jungkook shakes his head no. “They’re not feeling it. We convinced Jisoo noona to spin for us, though.”

Jisoo walks in from the kitchen with a glass of red wine in hand. She smiles amicably at you as she takes a seat. “Hey, Y/N. How’s the book so far?”

“Good, thanks.” You turn back to the others. “I assume JK and I are gonna be in a team, then?”

Hoseok grins mischievously as he shares a strange look with Jungkook, saying, “Told you. It’s me and you, hyung.” Hoseok smiles down at Yoongi, who sighs his acceptance.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbles.

You turn to look at Jungkook, who quickly tries to hide a dopey smile. “Why? What did Hobi oppa tell you?”

“Shh.” He turns you back to the mat with his hands on your shoulders. “Focus on winning.”

“Alright!” Jisoo sets her glass down and picks up the wheel. “First spin!” She flicks the plastic arrow, waiting a few seconds for the outcome before calling out, “Right foot, yellow!”

“You go,” you tell Jungkook. He nods, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking a confident step forward as Yoongi does the same.

“Next… Right leg, blue!”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

In hindsight, Jungkook should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve known Hoseok was trying to set him up from the second he asked if “angel” would be joining them for Twister, even though Jungkook had been more than content to let her stay in his room a little longer. (His complacency with her absence had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her scent was getting on his sheets.)

Now, with Y/N bending in front of him in a makeshift downward-dog and only one viable option for his next callout (right foot, blue), Jungkook wants to smack his head against a wall. He’d have to move his leg halfway across the mat, so he wouldn’t have any balance.

Unless, of course, he held onto Y/N’s hips.

Twister was a cursed game and he’d never play again.

“Jungkook, you gotta make your move in the next five seconds or else you’re out,” Jisoo warns.

He panics and shifts his foot farther out than he meant to, holding onto Y/N’s hips as his balance gives out and thanking whatever god is out there that Y/N can’t see the disgustingly bright pink hue dusting his cheeks with her ass so close to his crotch.

“You’re gonna make me fall!” Y/N complains, teetering forward. He tightens his grip on her hips and pulls her back ever so slightly. Hopefully he won’t get a boner. Gods, that would be embarrassing.

“Just—focus on your next move!” he half-yells, mouthing a curse at Hoseok, who was knocked out almost five minutes ago and is now standing smugly off to the side trying to contain his laughter. Asshole.

“Stupid game,” Y/N grumbles under her breath, her arms shaking.

“Left hand, red,” Jisoo announces.

Y/N grunts as she moves her hand closer to her body, unintentionally pressing into Jungkook. He bites down on his tongue and focuses on his breathing as blood rushes to his cheeks.

Yoongi huffs as he crouches and sets his hand on the red circle closest to him, grinning up at them with a dark look. “It’s over for you,” he taunts.

“Alright, Kook. Left hand, green,” Jisoo says.

Jungkook crouches down and sets his hand behind him, making eye contact with Y/N for the first time in almost ten minutes straight. “Next time—“

Y/N gets cut off with a yelp as, on their next turn, Yoongi bumps into her and sends her falling back into Jungkook’s lap. He groans, his hands shaking with the effort to keep himself up.

“Asshole! You pushed me!” Y/N yells, her ears turning red with rage as she pushes herself off Jungkook, about to angrily rush Yoongi when Hoseok picks her up around the waist and holds her off to the side with an arm around her shoulders.

“Now-now, kids, no fighting,” he teases.

“Beat his ass, Kook!” Y/N says in response, glaring at Yoongi.

Yoongi rolls his eyes as the game continues. The longer Jungkook has to play, the more tired he becomes—holding weird positions for long periods of time is surprisingly taxing. Just when he thinks he’s going to give out, Yoongi’s sweaty hands slide to the side and he ends up falling over, ass in the air.

Y/N squeals with excitement and rushes Jungkook as he stands up to his full height, massaging his lower back with a grimace. He oofs as she slams into him, her arms around his neck. He blushes and hides his face in her shoulder, trying to subtly breathe in her scent as she drops down before excitedly smacking him on his arm.

He smiles down at her and avoids looking at Hoseok (who he’s sure is having his own little mini-celebration) as Yoongi sighs as he stands up. “Well played,” he grumbles.

Y/N grins triumphantly, but holds her hand out for him to shake. “Good game.” Yoongi hesitates, but takes her hand. Y/N grins. “How does it feel losing to a human?”

“Gods have mercy…”

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts a/b/o au #a/b/o au #bts a/b/o #shifter au #shifter jungkook #bts werewolf au #werewolf au #werewolf jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #ao3 #archive of our own

[littlestar4022]

𝙏𝙚𝙖 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨 & 𝙋𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙨 | 𝙎𝙪𝙣 & 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧

~ Sun was quickly following after Star, ultiminately worried about her getting lost or hurt. They were in an unfamiliar environment, so of course he was somewhat nervous. "O-OH, NEW FRIEND! PLEASE SLOW DOWN! WE CAN'T JUST RUN INTO-" The sun themed animatronics voice was cut off as was his footing once he entered a completely different room. The wall paper was a dark navy blue, and the carpet had a floral mural design. The room was decorated with dark brown wood chairs, and soft white table sheets draped over the round tables. Tea sets were placed neatly at each one, accomponied by a gramophone player right smack in the middle playing a song that was most likely from an old era. Star meanwhile was rushing around giggling, exploring the new found area without a care in the world as Sun trailed behind her. She was quite the handful, but to Sun it was all worth it; as long as she was happy and content, he was too. ~ The little girl reached her hands onto the table once she had climbed up onto one of the chairs, stealing one of the small cups from one of the many sets on display. She carefully looked at the design embedded within the clay structure of the cup, turning it around in her hands as she felt the soft and smooth texture in her lap. Sun seemed to glance his blank white eyes around the area slowly beginning to approach Star, almost as if double checking for anything dangerous or harmful that could potentially ruin their so called 'adventure'. Watching her stare at the cup, his rays seemed to pop further out of his head; having an idea. He took the tea pot into his hands and moved one of the chairs closer to sit down, pretending to pour some into another empty cup. He put on a british accent, clearly trying to be silly. "WOULD YOU LIKE SOME TEA?" ~

Star turned her head to look up at Sun, before letting out a chortled giggle. Sun always knew how to be funny, how to cheer someone up when they felt gloomy. She loved him a lot for that, she wouldn't have him any other way. She nodded her head once her snickers settled down, lifting up the tea cup to watch Sun pretend to pour some into hers. Lifting it back down she pretended to take a sip of it by placing it near her lips and setting it back down onto the small plate provided upon the table. She continued to listen to Sun ramble on as his 'tea-time' persona for a few minutes before getting bored, her attention being gravitated elsewhere. She got up from her chair and walked out of the navy blue tea room and walked down towards the kitchen. It was only when Sun finished ranting that he finally noticed Star was gone and he immediately panicked. "OH, NO! WHERE DID YOU GO!? NEW FRIEND!? ARGHH! WHAT AM I GONNA DO!? WHAT IF SHE'S LOST, OR HURT! I GOTTA GO FIND HER!" Sun stood up with a hand to his chest as if he was some super hero, and quickly ran off to find her. ~ It didn't take him too long to find Star as he ran by the kitchen, quickly skidding on his feet to back up a few steps to peer inside to see her fiddling with the oven. He panicked, and quickly rushed in to stop her. "AH AH AH- NO NO NO NO! WE DON'T PLAY WITH THAT!" Sun lowered his arms and lifted Star up from behind by her waist, carrying her over to the dining table nearby to sit her down. Star struggled all the while, beginning to make unpleasent noises in response to Sun picking her up. Once she was in the chair, she crossed her arms and put on a face as she pouted. Sun tilted his head as each of his rays twitched and whirred, slightly timid to her reaction. "NEW FRIEND.. WE CAN'T PLAY WITH OVENS OR DANGEROUS THINGS! YOU'LL GET HURT. WHY DID YOU TRY TO TURN IT ON IN THE FIRST PLACE?" Star seemed to respond with only few words due to her being so young, wiggling her legs that dangled off the chair she sat on. ~

"Snackie!" Her hands gripped the sides of her seat whilst staring up at Sun with a non chalant look. Sun realized, and snapped his mechanical fingers before putting them up to the bottom of his face; considering it his chin. "OHHH! YOU'RE HUNGRY!" Sun tried to think now of what he could feed her that was safe. After all, they were in an unknown place without any food or water. He could only hope the area they were in had some if any. "LET ME TRY TO SEE IF I CAN GET YOU SOMETHING, FRIEND!" He quickly spun his torso and legs around while his head was still looking at Star for a few more seconds before it followed suit to align with his body. Rummaging through the cabinets, he didn't find much. Just a box of crackers, and a bag of sugar. Next he went through the fridge to find an apple juice box and more almond water; the stuff didn't taste very good. He would have to work with what he had at the moment. Next, he found a paper plate and decided to use that as leverage for the half-baked snack he was going to prepare for the little one. Dumping the crackers onto the plate, he walked back over to Star who was patiently tapping her hands on the table with her arms out stretched. "ALRIGHT, FRIEND! I COULDN'T FIND MUCH, BUT THIS SHOULD DO THE TRICK JUST AS NICELY!" ~ Star glanced at the crackers on the plate, and then to the juice box that Sun opened for her. She took the juice box first, taking small little sips from it. Thankfully, it wasn't expired. Sun seemed a tiny bit nervous, forgetting to even check if the materials he was giving her even had one to begin with. Though, he was glad that both consumables were conveniently safe to eat. She took one of the crackers, nibbling on it; it tasted somewhat stale due to being exposed and left on the shelf for a while, but she couldn't be picky. She noticed Sun just nervously and anxiously watching, tapping his index fingers together at a fast pace. She noticed a pink llama plushie lying down on one of the other chairs facing Sun to the left, and reached out to grab it. She set it on the table as she munched on her snack, smiling a bit. "SUH!" She raised her voice to catch his attention, noticing he was looking at a calander hung up on the wall. ~

Sun quickly turned around and sprung himself back over to her. "WHAT DID YOU FIND NEW FRIEND?" He let out an excited gasp to see the pink plushie, and held it in his arms to squeeze. "A LLAMA! AWWW! I'M GONNA CALL YOU MR. FLUFFINGTON!" Star continued to swing her legs in her chair, happy to see Sun so happy with a stuffed toy. It was probably the most comfort he'd gotten all day, seeing as they were stuck together in the pink palace. Watching Sun spin around with the plushie and giggle felt good. She finished her snack, and got down from her chair to throw the empty juice box into the trash can in the corner of the room. Her eyes went up into surprise to feel Sun grabbing her hand before she had the chance to turn around, still carrying the plushie in his other arm. "COME ON, STAR! LET'S GO FIND A WAY OUT OF HERE!" Star nodded her head in response, beginning to leave the kitchen whilst holding his hand; a little bit tired after eating. Sun quickly took note of her body language and lifted her over his head and onto her back, dropping the plushie where it was. He continued to move as Star began to fall asleep, quietly humming the daycare theme to himself. He may have been in an unfamiliar area, but at least he wasn't alone.. ~ Um. Hi. I wrote this based off an experience I had on VRCHat. Yipee!

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #sunrise #fnaf sun #the backrooms #liminal #liminal space #liminal places #age regression #sfw agere #backrooms level #dreamcore #creative writing #comfort #little things #little space #Youtube

[walks-the-ages]

"Favorite Doctor Survey" Update February 11th, 2023, ~9pm Eastern Standard Time:

[ID: a screenshot of a pie chart which has a multitude of colors in sections, the largest being labeled with percentages of 23.3%, 16.3%, 11.6%, and two are labled 7% while the rest are not labeled. there is a list of Doctor Who incarnations off to the side with color coding which trails off. end ID]

So far, we have 43 votes, and right now, the 8th Doctor is in the lead with 10 votes, aka 23.3%!

I am extremely delighted with this fact, we need more people to appreciate the Eighth Doctor ~! For anyone who is unaware of it, the Eighth Doctor is not limited to just the 1997 TV movie and a few minutes in Power of the Doctor--

--oh no, this Bestest Boy Ever has not only over a hundred audio dramas (and counting!!) on Big Finish, but also at least 74 Novels to his interation! If you do not know the Eighth Doctor yet, now is your excuse to go watch his movie on the web archive and then dive into the world of Big Finish to experience his adventures with Charley! :D

*Ahem* So, onto the next "Favorite Doctor!"

To no-ones surprise, the Twelfth Doctor, played by Peter Capaldi is holding steady in second place, with 9 votes!

There's a slight error in the graph because I realized I'd forgotten to add his actor and year to the 12th doctor listing and the answers already submitted didn't get edited, so Peter Capaldi's 12th Doctor is not just the dark teal 16.3% you see above, but also the dark blue right underneath it which is the first 2 original votes before the updated info.

In 3rd place, appropriately enough, we have the Third Doctor, played by Jon Pertwee! He currently has 5 votes, aka 11.6%!

Everyone seems to love his dynamics with UNIT, being earthbound, and his fatherly/grandfatherly relationships with his companions-- not to mention his chemistry with The Master!

Tied for 4th place, we have the Sixth and Second Doctors, each with 3 votes, aka 7% !

One, Five, Nine, and Ten each have 2 votes,

Four, The Valyard, The Shalka!Doctor, Eleven, and Thirteen all have 1 vote each,

and so far we have two write-in answers: one vote for "The Lethian Campaign Assassin" (an extremely intriguing wiki article) and one vote for the Master!Doctor from Power of the Doctor :D

Let's keep those votes rolling in! I pretty much have no time limit on this poll lol, i'll just post periodically when there's a significant number of new votes or if someone else takes the lead!

In the meanwhile if you haven't taken the survey yet, here is the link to cast your vote:

And if you'd like to see what all the hype is about for the Eighth Doctor, here is a link to a gorgeous fan-made upscaling of the movie, which was posted to the archive by the uploader-- you can stream it from the archive (make sure you set it to 1080p and give it plenty of time to buffer!)

Or, even better, download the mkv video, and use VLC media player or a similar open source program so you can adjust the playback speed to around 96% for the proper pitch and speed!

When they were doing US to UK conversion they uh. lol they fucked up the framerate so to fix it the movie was sped up on release, so watching it without adjusting the playback speed will make everyone sound like chipmunks comparison to their normal voices, but can also cause some motion sickness from the weird, fast framerate

! So I highly reccomend downloading it so you can adjust the playback speed a custom amount! Oh, and don't forget to favorite to show the upscaler some love for their hard work, they made it into a beautiful masterpiece! [ it literally looks better than my physical dvd i bought years ago lol]

If you'd like to dip your toes into some other, slightly more obscure Doctors featured on this survey, I also have a link to the 4k Upscaling of "the Scream of the Shalka", an animated Doctor Who episode from 2003, which was never continued (on screen at least; it has one short story sequel written available online, "The Feast of the Stone"!

Scream of the Shalka, in 4k HD, again, thanks to fans taking the time to upscale things!

Scream of the Shalka short story sequel:

(please note for fellow Shinigami-Eyes users, there is no transphobia in the short story, the entire BBC website is now universally marked red in shinigami eyes)

#long post #very long post #bold text #Doctor Who #described images #dw #Favorite Doctor Survey #Classic Who #Scream of the Shalka #8th doctor #Eighth Doctor #Twelfth Doctor #12th Doctor #eighth doctor audios #Shalka!Doctor

[emeraldzephyr]

Glory Days: A Baseball AU Fic

Part 1 of my Baseball Player Steve Harrington Fic!

Eddie Munson was at the last place he thought he would ever be on a Wednesday afternoon. 

After arriving in Chicago for the next stop on Corroded Coffin's Raising the Dead tour, their manager, Nancy Wheeler, presented them with suite tickets to the Chicago Cubs game.

"One of the player's brothers is a huge fan" She said as she passed over the envelope, "It would mean a lot to go, and it's good press."

"Nancy," Eddie started, and the rest of the band sighed, preparing for his rant, "We are not sports sorts. In fact, it was those same types that made our lives such hell in school. And yes, that was 10 years ago but I have a very good memory, and even a few scars to remember it by!" 

"Look, it's 3 hours tops, there will be food and drinks in the suite, and if you get pics at the game I bet you sell out the rest of those tickets before the show on Saturday. Chicago loves the Cubs, and Steve Harrington is their golden boy."

Eddie looked to his band members, eyes darting between the three of them.

Gareth shrugged "Might as well, maybe it could be fun."

Eddie frowned, and glared down at Jeff, "Weirdly enough, I kind of like baseball."

Eddie gasped, murmuring traitor under his breath.

Finally, he leveled his gaze to Frank, who gulped before sputtering out, "I mean, free food and drinks is nice." 

" Ugh… .fine!" Eddie snaps, throwing his hands up and flopping down on the couch in the hotel suite," but don't expect me to be happy about it."

Which brings us to the present, where Eddie sits in the cushy Legends suite at Wrigley Field. At least the day was nice, the sky a bright blue with fluffy clouds, a chill breeze just enough to cool the warm rays of the sun.

A bat cracked, and Eddie flinched. He knew there was netting keeping the balls from getting to them but that didn't stop his anxiety from expecting every single one of those fuckers to come flying at his face like some kind of jock powered magic missile. 

“I would say you get used to it, but you really don’t.”

Eddie turned to see a woman with short brown hair and blue eyes seated two seats over. Her long legs were propped up on the seat in front of her, and she wore a white and blue striped jersey with HARRINGTON across the back.

“I mean, I’ve been going to Steve’s games since college and I still flinch every time.” She said, chuckling to herself, “I’m Robin, by the way.”

“Ah, so you must be Harrington’s lucky girl!” Eddie exclaims, sweeping his hands open in a dramatic bow, “Eddie Munson, pleasure to meet you.”

“Eww, no.” Robin clips, “Steve is my very platonic best friend. And roommate, but I am but a humble graduate student and he makes fuck you amounts of money.”

Eddie barks out a laugh at that as the loudspeaker in the stadium crackles to life.

“Batting Number 4, Your Shortstop Steve Harrington!!”

The crowd roars to life, Robin cheering enthusiastically next to him, and Eddie’s jaw drops open as he hears a familiar drum and guitar riff before his own voice shouts through the stadium “I don’t need your crown!!”, the fans echoing his words as the guitar and drums kick into a fast and heavy riff. When Jeff explained the concept of walkout music to him earlier in the game he never expected to hear one of their own songs blasted through the stadium.

“Holy shit!” Gareth shouted, shaking Eddie by the shoulders “Harrington has our song as his walkout music!”

Eddie looks up to the jumbotron screens to see a close up of Harrington as he steps up to the batter's box, a beaming smile on his face as he taps the end of the bat on each shoe before bringing the bat up and squatting slightly to get in batting position, his eyes focused like a laser on the pitcher. 

The first pitch flies in just below the strike zone, the second in the dirt. 

“Ooo, they’re scared of him.” a curly haired man says, plopping into the empty seat between Eddie and Robin.

“Scared of him?” Eddie questions, tilting his head at the new arrival.

He turns towards Eddie and a look of recognition crosses his face, “Holy shit, you’re Eddie Munson! Steve said he was giving you and the band tickets but I didn’t think you’d actually come! I’m Dustin, his little brother!”

Dustin grabs Eddie’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically as Steve fouls off the third pitch.

“They’re scared of him because he’s a damn good player,” Robin fills in, sitting up just enough to make eye contact with Eddie over Dustin’s head.

“Yeah, they don’t want to give him anything he can get ahold of,” Dustin muses as the crack of the bat against the ball rings out through the stadium.

The ball rockets up the middle, cutting between the second base and shortstop and rolling through center field. Steve takes off at a sprint, rounding first base and making it comfortably to second before the ball flies in from the outfield.

“Hell yeah Steve!!” Dustin shouts, with Robin whistling.

* * * * *

Eddie spends the majority of the game talking to Dustin and Robin about a variety of topics. Eddie learns that Dustin is working at a tech company that does…something with radio waves. Honestly Eddie was lost on that one after about three words. He also learns Robin is studying linguistics at the University of Chicago. Eddie talks to them both about his music, their tour, and a few early ideas for songs. 

The group always stops when Steve comes up to bat. It’s endearing how much the pair cares about Steve, contrasting with how little they care about the rest of the game. It honestly surprises Eddie how good of a time he is having. 

Steve’s next two at bats are a sacrifice fly, putting the Cubs on the board but still behind. His second at bat ends in a double play, giving Eddie precious little time to admire the man as he ran the bases. And Eddie was a weak, weak man, and those baseball pants hugged just right. He should honestly know better than to crush on the straight jock, but looking was fine, right?

It was the bottom of the ninth and the Cubs trailed 4-1 when Steve came to bat, bases loaded. After Steve’s walkout music cut off you could hear a pin drop in the stadium. Pitch one was a fastball, rocketing in right down the center of the strike zone. Steve stood completely still, taking the strike. The next, a breaking ball down and left, outside the strike zone. One and one count.

“Holy shit this is stressful,” Eddie said through clenched teeth, twisting the rings on his fingers nervously.

“No kidding,” Robin mumbles, her knee bouncing anxiously as Steve stepped back into the batter’s box.

Pitch three was a fastball that floated just outside of the strike zone, pitch four a curve ball fouled off into the first base stands. The count was even, and it felt as if the stadium itself was holding its breath. 

Pitch five was where the pitcher made a grave error. It flew straight down the center of the strike zone, but Steve was ready for it this time. The ball cracked off the bat, soaring towards right field. The stadium erupted, growing louder and louder the further the ball flew, until it landed in the right field bleachers.

“HOLY SHIT THAT WAS A WALK OFF GRAND SLAM!!” Dustin screamed, as all of them jumped to their feet, shouting and cheering as Steve and his teammates all rounded the bases. 

The entire stadium was whipped into a frenzy, the team included. Steve rounded third base and beamed as his entire team waited for him at home plate, where they instantly swarmed him, multiple coolers of gatorade dunked on his head as the team celebrated. 

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys couldn’t help but be swept up in the kinetic atmosphere of the stadium, jumping and cheering. His eyes locked with Gareth’s when the entire stadium began to sing.

“Go Cubs Go! Go Cubs Go! Hey, Chicago, what do you say, The Cubs are gonna win today!”

“They have their own theme song?” Gareth exclaimed, “We gotta do a cover.”

“Wouldn’t be the first!” Jeff shouted over the crowd, slinging an arm around Gareth’s shoulders, “Pantera wrote a song for the Dallas hockey team that they play when goals are scored.”

The crowd continued singing as they all filtered out of the stadium, while the suite that Eddie and the others were in continued their libations. After a few minutes, the door swung open and a chorus of “Steve!” rang out from the box.

Eddie may as well have looked right at the sun with as bright as Harrington was beaming as both Dustin and Robin threw their arms around his shoulders, both speaking lightning fast at him in their excitement. His eyes darted between the two of them, trying to keep up with the separate streams of conversations, when his eyes finally settled between the two of them on Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Frank.

“You must be Corroded Coffin!” He greeted, slipping between Robin and Dustin and walking over to shake hands, “I’m really glad you could make it, Dusty and I are both big fans.”

“Gotta say,” Eddie started as he shook Steve’s hand, “I didn’t expect a pretty boy jock like yourself to be a metal fan.”

Steve flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah, well Dustin was the one who got me into it in all honesty. That plus a smidge of teenage rebellion was the right combination I guess. Plus, it makes great workout music.”

A woman’s head popped into the door as the group chatted, “Steve, we have a presser in 5.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder at the door, “If you don’t have plans after the game, we are doing a barbecue at my place.”

The Corroded Coffin boys all looked between each other, Jeff nodding enthusiastically. Frank shrugged, and Gareth smiled mischievously at Eddie. He didn’t like that look one bit.

“I guess we can swing by,” Eddie said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion at Gareth’s expression, then turning to smile at Steve.

“Great!” Steve beamed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder, “Robin can give you the details.”

Steve walked up to Nancy just before leaving, giving her a hug and lifting her slightly off her toes.

“It was good to see you Nance Pants,” he grinned, “See you at the barbecue!”

"Nance Pants?" The band choruses in unison.

"We are NOT talking about it."

#baseball player steve #musician eddie munson #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stobin #baseball!au #stranger things #emerald writes

[zydrateacademy]

RIP Rooster Teeth

I had some exposure to Red Versus Blue back when I was in high school. Mostly the first season with my friend, who lived above me in the apartment after the divorce. We gamed together, he and his mother fed me when my jackass father tried putting me on the same diet craze he was on (a 40 year old fat man and a 15 year old skinny child probably shouldn't be on the same diet). We played Halo, watched the first season of Red Versus Blue as it was coming out, had our laughs, played more Halo.

RT dropped off my radar for a while there, I was too young to really care that there was a company behind it. I thought it was just a cute little thing some Halo fans were doing (which is... true, I just didn't know that there was a company).

Came back to my Radar when Youtube Let's Plays were starting to get popular. I had heard of this "Minecraft" thing and even to this day I only have a few handful of hours played on it because I could never find a gaming group to play consistently with me. So instead I had to live vicariously through Achievement Hunter. I didn't quite latch onto them immediately, but it was pretty damn early in that series lifespan. I think I discovered them by episode 30 or so, and then swung back to 'catch up' and I followed Achievement Hunter since. In those early videos they rarely showed their faces so it was hard to match voices to names. I was there when they started showing up on camera more often with their news shows or various things like "Go!" where they pick some random odd challenge and all the Hunters got to choose which game to accomplish that goal on. Great stuff. In some way I do feel like I grew up with them.

I know people toss the term "parasocial" around a lot. I have no illusions, I know these people don't know I exist. They're not my friends. But that didn't stop them from being around when I was young enough for them to become an influence to my own sense of humor and comedy. They're the reason cussing doesn't bother me. I was raised by an overbearing father where a single toe out of line gets you grounded for two weeks, making sure I remained in my room was his go-to punishment so I languished in boredom for a good portion of my teen years.

They don't know me, but I grew up with them all the same.

I don't know what the turning point was. All I can offer is "a few years ago". Possibly even just before their acquisition from some entertainment company, or it could have been right on that line. The crew started to splinter away. Ray left, whom I think played against others much better than he does in his solo twitch career. Gavin is a pretty big deal in the film industry, being a sort of go-to guy that people know have one of the best Slow-Motion cameras on demand. In that industry a lot of tech is rented rather than bought and many of them can just go "Oh hey I know a guy". A couple more break off and are replaced with the likes of Jeremy, whom I adore and I follow Jeremy Dooley's youtube to this day. He plays often with the ChilledChaos crew which brings that "buddies playing games together" vibe that I crave.

But something else happened. I called it the "tik-tok-ification of content". I remember at some point on Michael Jones's Off Topic Podcast, Trevor (who managed AH) came on to say that videos were going to start looking different. More "tightly edited". Oh no. This was the era that even Jack started splintering off to lean more into their gaming news shows and other projects. I watched as the original six became the original two. Jeremy left during the pandemic, choosing to remain at his original home.

I don't know who BlackCrystal, Ky, or Joe are. BlackCrystal was mostly fine but never morphed into the comedy sense of AH. Ky irritated the hell out of me, I don't know who she is but she had this "tiktoker reactionary let's player" vibe to her, almost constantly screaming as a reaction to every little thing. She'd turn a corner in Gmod and scream because a guy had a gun. It's a gun game. There's guns in it. Stop screaming.

Matt never gel'd with me. I found the sad sack persona and the whole meme of shitting on him because of said sad sack persona I found very tiresome pretty much immediately. I'm a bully victim in real life. If he could take it more power to him but I'm not sure I could handle being "focused down" like he was. Alfredo was funny as well, I enjoyed his dynamics with Jeremy. Then of course there was that situation with that other guy...

I had never seen Joe before but all of the sudden on an Off Topic they welcome him to the AH family and I had absolutely no idea who this was. It's like the media trope of a character showing up on the next season of a show and everyone just acts like they were always there. Or that trope where a main character suddenly has a sister or brother that was never mentioned before and then the following episodes bend over backwards to force a full arc on this new character so viewers can be forced to like them. "They're here to stay, fuckers!" These shows and movies would cry out. But you rushed it. They just... showed up.

I basically haven't watched a single AH video with Joe in it. I'm sure he's a nice guy, he's probably very funny to some people. His presence just marked a "where the hell did everyone else go?" So... I more or less stopped watching most AH content a couple years ago. I waited and waited for them to get their groove back.

Then AH shut down and they gravitated towards some painfully unfunny skit show they called Dogbark. They shifted away from the 100k views (which is far under their heyday to begin with) and their Dogbark videos struggle to eke past 10k.

In that time I've attached myself to other communities. The likes of Critical Role, which also has that 'just a bunch of friends playing a game together' vibe. And even that won't last forever. Campaign 3 is a bit of a slog, I hope they can muster up enough energy to try for a 4th but after that they might get too exhausted and want to move onto other projects.

ChilledChaos and Jeremy Dooley cut close, most of their videos are with a group of gamers but they're all single perspective. AH had that unique rotation of perspectives that always added to the humor. Yet as some people say, that's been the shift in Youtube content. Single perspective streamers. I'm not sure why that shift happened. I saw Alanah Pearce (previously of Funhaus) say in a video that that's just become the preference. I don't understand why. I can never just sit through these four to six hour streams in a single go. Even CR episodes take me two or three days to chew through. Just one person sitting in a chair often failing to keep the energy up as they mumble through loading screens and reading dialog. I'm not having fun. I don't know why that's the direction everyone is going.

I try to watch Smosh but some of their senses of humor isn't clicking for me, partially due to the tiktokification of content. I find Shayne Topp to be fucking hilarious but he's the only one who makes jokes I actually laugh at. The rest of it they get barely neutral amusement.

It's sad and it sucks to see RT go down like this because the void of competition hasn't filled that void. And it hasn't for a while, and I was just kind of holding out. I guess I'll just have to see what Michael does next, I'll follow him on any platform I care about. I'm just not sure that even he is really 'in it' anymore.

#Rooster Teeth #Achievement Hunter #Let's Play

[vermilionvector]

Ghost Game

There's one scene in EP. 64 I'd like to discuss.

This dice scene happened after HoverEspimon poured sour plum snacks into Canoweissmon's mouth to awaken him from Dagomon's hallucination.

Judging from the dice shape, they seemed to be decahedron dice. This type of dice (and also other polyhedral dice) is commonly used in tabletop role-playing games (e.g. Monster World in the first ever Yugioh series, which coincidentally, was also made by Toei).

The blue die is a bit peculiar, though. In games like DnD, the die with two digits is associated with the value of tens, so all sides on that die should have two digits ranging from 00 - 90. However, we only saw one side with double digits here. It could be assumed that the 0s on the other sides on the blue die were omitted because it's already made known that it represented the "leading digit" and the purple one represented the "following digit". For example, if we roll a 5 on the blue die and a 9 on the purple die, the result would be 59. Note that we did not see every numbers on the purple die, so we could not guarantee that all sides on that die were single digit or not. A special case would be 00 & 0. Conventionally, it'd be interpreted as 100.

Assuming that the hypothesis is correct, the roll above resulted in 1. If we consider the fact that Canoweissmon was in a pinch before this happened, it could be assumed that you need to roll some numbers to get out of the situation. For example, there's a 10% chance of HoverEspimon's interference working and you need to roll 1 - 10 to succeed. There are countless possibilities for the clear condition here, so let's not dawdle on that.

What does this scene imply on the larger scale, though? TBH I always find this season's name unconventional for a Digimon series. In Adventure, we go on, well, an adventure. In Tamers, we followed the story of those Tamers. In Frontier, we enter the frontier of the Digital World. In Savers, we follow the squad who saved people. In Xros Wars, we have Xros evolution. In Universe: Appmon, we had an alternate Universe that revolved around another species called Appmon. And then we have Ghost Game. The "Ghost" part is pretty clear with Hologram Ghost. But where does the "Game" part come into play? It's been a little mystery that has been nagging behind my brain since the series' announcement. The 60+ weeks didn't make anything clearer, up until this scene.

In DnD, a Dungeon Master will tell you the scenario, and the players will decide their actions. Then, they roll some dice to decide the outcome. Since the actions are pretty much anything within the scope of the game, it's very versatile. It could be that the entirety of Ghost Game thus far was based on a game played against a Dungeon Master. This Dungeon Master could be the one behind the crisis of the Digital World. One or more challengers appeared to try and save the Digital World and had to play this game to save it. One of the challengers could be Hokuto, who was summoned to the Digital World per the rule of this game, which would explain why he was not fried when going through the gate as this game might bypass conventional rules.

OR it could be that there was no Dungeon Master, but a central computational server that determined the results of each action related to Digimons individually. In other words, RNG, and the dice were only there for visual presentation.

The following section will be based on profile of GulusGammamon's evolved forms: Regulusmon and Arcturusmon.

In Arcturusmon's profile, it mentions that it is a theoretical existence which, if brought into the "real" Digital World, could expose it to Digital Hazard that drastically distorts the environment. Both Regulusmon and Arcturusmon are said to be the source of "Gulus Realm Burst" (GRB, a word play on Gamma Ray Burst), which corrodes any beings not possessing Black Digitron (the substance that alters the color of a Digimon). This could be the reason why we saw black Digimons every time Gulus appeared. They were the survivors who lived to tell the tale, or they could be "watchers" who were in charge of observing and confining him. Since, if we assume that the "simulation" hypothesis was true, the "experimenters" would definitely need results. And if we assume that the dice toss were actually just a visual presentation of RNG, the simulation hypothesis holds more water. Another factor to contribute to this is Proximamon's profile which also mentions simulation.

This GRB crisis might happen because of a simulation gone wrong and only the "evil" side of Proximamon manifesting and the "holy" side still dormant and could be the reason why Hokuto sent Gammamon to live with Hiro to awaken his "holy" side. But whether the "human world" is "real" and this entire series is just a large-scale experiment or it is just "fictional-yet-consequential", remains to be seen.

BUT considering that we only have 3 episodes left and we're going to the Digital World soon, the simulation hypothesis, though how much likely I made it sounded to be, could totally be wrong. Ghost Game tends to play things out straightforward to fit with its monster-of-the-week format with some exceptions being this last sprint of the series. And based on the released episode titles, we could assume how things will play out:

EP. 65: The Black Zone of Death - GulusGammamon would be in full motion here as the gang would be in direct contact with areas subjected to GRB. Kiyo was also shown to have been affected by it.

EP. 66: The Dark Dragon of Destruction - Probably revolves around Regulusmon and his fight with the gang. I think he'd also evolve to Arcturusmon near the end of the episode.

EP. 67: The Devourer of All - The last fight with Arcturusmon and Proximamon's debut. He could be the one to restore the Digital World back to the way it was. And, in my opinion, where we say goodbye to our adorable Gammamon in a noble sacrifice.

You know when I posted about the Appmon dream I didn't know Ghost Game would venture this way. Was it a premonition, somehow?

#digimon #ghost game

[luvmmarner]

Chapter 1 - MELISSA

JACK ISN'T A HOCKEY PLAYER TW: none WORD COUNT: 1.3k TAGLIST: @mysticaldonkey @bolts-nation If you enjoyed this fic so far maybe consider joining my TAGLIST

–

Even though I was wearing my nightgown rather than what would be considered "appropriate" apparel, I felt compelled to dash down the stairs as soon as I caught a whiff of freshly cooked bread and cabbage soup.

“Greetings! M’lady. Your breakfast would be with you shortly.” Elvio said.

Despite not being the best cook in the world, Elvio serves as our chef. He was talented enough to produce dishes that would rival anything you have ever tasted in the entire world.

“Thanks, Elvio!” I said giving him a quick drawn-out smile.

–

My mother wanted to talk to me, so I completed breakfast fairly quickly. Before going to my mother's office, I cleaned up as much as I could. I hated when Elvios had to clean up after me while I did nothing, but eat the food he made.

I got ready and headed upstairs to visit my mum in her office. The statues that were placed along the walls of the hallway never ceased to fascinate me, no matter how many times I passed through there or strolled along it. As soon as I made it to my mom's office I gently knocked on the door before entering.

As soon as I walked into the room, I took a moment to pause. There was a tall man with brown hair and green eyes standing next to my mother. He was undeniably gorgeous, and the thought of him sent goosebumps all through my body. “Mom you asked for me?” I said my throat becoming suddenly dry.

"Honey, here is Jack, and for the time being, he will be your new guard." As my mother spoke I could barely process the words coming out of her mouth.

"Oh, thank you… "Is that it? That's it?" My speech was slurred and jumbled up. I was particularly concerned about being seen blushing in front of my new guard. I didn’t want my mother to scold me which happened a while back.

"Yes, and get dressed. Jack will take you to your room." I had just enough time to catch a few of her words before I was out of there. This was embarrassing to me because I wasn't even dressed appropriately; nonetheless, that most likely made an “excellent” first impression.

I made my way to my room, and Jack followed closely behind me. We both remained silent; neither of us said a word. He had no right to speak in the first place, as guards were only able to do so when spoken to.

“How old are you.” I finally asked breaking the silence.

After I had finished asking that question, there was an extended period of quietness. I gave a loud cough in the hope that it would encourage him to provide an answer more quickly; it was a straightforward question that doesn't take long to answer.

“I’m 21.”

“21? Wow, you’re really young.”

After that, all he did was hum along in agreement and not respond to anything. I didn't have to walk for long before I got to my room. I smiled at him and went into my room, softly closing the door behind me. Only after that was I able to contemplate and blush about him all by myself.

–

The dawn's first rays of light gently made their way into my eyes. I sighed in exasperation before looking at the watch that was sitting next to my bed, which displayed the time as 6:00. I slowly screamed into my pillow for a moment before getting up and opening the window in my room. I was inundated by the pristine air. It felt like I was gliding through space on a cloud. The sounds of songbirds and children laughing and playing in the distance merely contributed to the serene atmosphere.

Someone knocked on my door and then said, "Ma'am." I retorted by saying wait just a second. I hastily changed into a silver dress that was embellished with blue sparkles here and there. It was beautiful there was no denying that. After getting dressed I opened my door immediately coming face to face with my new guard.

“Oh god! Jack don’t do that to me. You startled me! What do you need it’s 6:00 for crying out loud. If not someone bothering me it’s the sun for crying out loud” I remark with a sarcastic laugh.

"Your Majesty the King and Queen have asked for you, ma'am. I am so sorry that I had to wake you up from your peaceful sleep. It's not like you could ever get any more lovely, even if you tried." He said immediately adding “I’m sorry miss. That was just a joke… I didn't mean it" He stuttered and faltered over his words as he spoke. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me!” I giggle so I wasn’t the only one to stutter while saying something I wasn’t entirely sure about. That felt good to know. Before going back to his usual expression, he flashed you a small smile as a sign of appreciation. As soon as I walked into the dining room, my parents greeted me. I sat down and waited for them to tell me what they needed me for.

My mother started talking first. “Honey your father and I have been discussing with each other and another kingdom. We decided that you will be getting married to Derek the Prince of Brintson”

The things that she spoke were impossible for me to believe. Until I realized she was serious.  I squealed with excitement.  I would finally get married! After this much time has passed. I'd finally get to marry a prince that I'd dreamed about since I was young. This wasn't real it couldn't be. "What's his name?" I asked trying to remain calm and not burst out with excitement.

"His name is Derek you'll meet him tomorrow sweetie so make sure you dress in proper clothing."

I nod and wait for her to talk more, but all she does is nod and say "that's all" in a hushed voice. I stormed back up the stairs to my room, where I danced around for a moment before falling onto my bed with a sigh. This is the thing that I've been fantasizing about, and now it's actually going to come true. I get to my feet and head straight for my closet, where I select the most breathtaking dress I own, which is gold in color and has a long slit in the front. Despite the fact that it was slightly inappropriate, I've been waiting for such a long time to wear it, and finally, at long last, I'll be able to do so.

I placed the dress on the highest shelf of my dresser. After brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas, I was almost ready to go to sleep when there was a knock on the door of my bedroom. When they don't respond, I turn off the water in the sink and call "come in."

As soon as I returned to my room, I was faced with the brown-haired hottie "Wh-wat. What are you doing here Jack? You are not allowed to be in my room after the hour of eight. If my mom caught you, you'd be in trouble." I hissed in a quiet shushed voice.

“Ma’am. I was just letting you know that. You shouldn’t have your window opened. The temperature is going to take a massive drop at night. I don’t want you to freeze.” Jack said I noticed his face which was flustered and there was no doubt mine was as well.

“Oh, thanks for letting me know!” I replied as he nodded quickly and then exited the room.

I blushed and headed over to my window to firmly close it before slipping under my covers and finally getting the rest I desperately need.

#jack hughes fic #jack hughes #new jersey devils #new jersey #nhl smut #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey #angst #fluff #pure angst #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey smut #nhl fic #jack hughes imagine #forbidden love #MELISSA IMARL #Kingdom fic #royalty fic #royalty love #princess fic #royalty au

[scoutpologist]

first draft of an en/esp group qsmp flag!!!!

this flag in particular would be for the original group of islanders; i want to design a general qsmp flag, a flag for the french group, a flag for the brazilian group, and a flag for the federation!!! i would also love to design flags for the new groups as they come in :D

i grouped the english and spanish speakers together because they've more or less been in it together and they were the ones who originally destroyed the wall, leading to contact between two halves of the island. i'm also very intrigued by the idea of the three/four groups being their own sort of states in a nation, especially now that we have a president!!

symbolism:

the yellow box and "rays" are taken from the argentinian flag, and represent the sun! i chose to make it boxy because this is minecraft. the sun represents honor, hope, and communication.

the red box and stripes are taken from the english flag. they represent valor, determination, and skill, as well as protection. notice how they also split down the rays, showing that all division by the sun (aka time zones and location) is trivial.

blue represents the sky and green represents the ground, two things the players now share on this server.

the earth is, well, the earth. it's a generic asset from canva. meant to represent the internationality of the original members, with people from 5 different countries in the roster.

the aspect ratio is that of a twitch or youtube video, because we watch the qsmp through twitch and youtube.

my major concerns with this design:

seems a big generic and you can't really see the influence from the different flags. i went a bit abstract with a lot of the influence, which didn't serve the personal feel i'm looking for.

little obvious influence from the mexican and american flags, which are two i really wanted to include.

something about the red box looks weird, but that's an easy fix.

it's complicated, and would be difficult to make into a cape or banner in mc if desired (something i'm aiming for).

i also want to include a subtle nod to l'manberg somewhere, which i obviously didn't here.

any and all ideas are welcome on how to improve this!!!

#op #qsmp #help i spent more time writing this up than i did assembling the flag

[ginger-grimm]

OC PRIDE CHALLENGE 2022

Day 24: AU Week

Modern!Munningham AU

Connie sighed, pen dangling from her teeth. The top of it was damn near chewed off, but she could never manage to stop herself from doing it when she was stressed.

Her time at Hawkins High was coming to a close in a few months, and yet Connie Cunningham couldn't enjoy any of the things her sister revelled in doing.

Today was Senior Ditch Day, and instead of going on a day trip with Chrissy and the basketball players, Connie was busy planning out the rest of her week.

"If I move my shift at Ray's to Saturday, I can make it to my track meet on time, pick Curtis up from his piano lesson, and make it to the game on time," she mumbled.

She groaned loudly, seeing the other appointment in big red letters smack dab in the middle of her Curtis pick up and getting ready for the basketball game. She was supposed to tutor Eddie Munson then.

Her phone ringing pulled her from her thoughts. Her eyes wandered to the screen, a picture of her best friend Caspar, stuffed into a blue dress which was supposed to resemble that of Elsa from 'Frozen', was displayed on it.

Connie snickered under her breath, thinking back to her little cousin throwing a tantrum until Caspar played princess with her.

She pulled the pen from her mouth, sliding it behind her ear and into her hair, and slid her finger across her screen to accept the call.

"Hey, can you cover my shift at Ray's tomorrow?"

"Good evening to you too," Caspar grumbled. Connie chuckled. "Sure, if you cover mine on Monday."

"Okay, fine," she said, tapping out of the call and opening her contacts. She scrolled down to find Eddie's number. "What are you up to on this Ditch Day?"

"Getting high," they said simultaneously, because, really, Connie didn't even need to ask.

She laughed, typing out a message to Eddie, her fingers racing over the keypad.

'Hey, Eddie! This is Connie Cunningham. I hope you're having a fun Ditch Day. I was wondering if we could possibly move our tutoring session to Saturday night? I'm a bit tied up tomorrow.'

Connie hadn't even wanted to agree to helping Eddie with his studies, her own life was swallowing her whole as it was, but he had already been held back twice and this time he seemed to really want to go through with his Senior year. She felt bad saying no.

"You coming to the game tomorrow?" Connie asked. All signs pointed to no, but she always asked Caspar nonetheless.

"Can't. Mom's making me go to a party for her firm. She wants me to make more social connections and shit like that. Why she would make me do it literal months before I take off, I have no clue."

Connie's phone chimed as she struck out her shift at the store the next day and moved it to Saturday morning.

'Hey, I've got a bit of a committment then. Maybe Sunday?'

She sighed. She had church in the morning but should be free afterward. Except she normally liked to take Sundays to prepare for the rest of the week.

'What kind of committment? Can you maybe postpone?'

She rolled her eyes as a realization dawned on her and began typing again.

'Don't tell me it's about that stupid roleplaying game.'

The dots on the screen indicated that he was typing and Connie feared she was being too mean. But if he cared enough to ask for help then he shouldn’t mind moving a game he could play at any point after his exams.

'Don't tell me you're blowing me off for that stupid basketball game tomorrow.'

'I'm supporting my sister. What's your excuse?'

There was a beat of silence from the other side. Connie realized Caspar was still rambling on about something in the background but she couldn't focus.

'We could just do it today instead. Be at the trailer park in 20 and we can get it over with. I wouldn't want to bother you for too long, your highness.'

Connie scoffed, shaking her head as she crafted her perfect response. How dare he? She had never once said a mean word to or about Eddie Munson. She made it a habit to be nice to everyone, which had yielded good and bad results alike.

'Look, I don’t know where you get off talking to me like that, but I'm doing this as a favor. We can just call it off entirely and I wouldn't give a fuck.'

'Oh, you wouldn't give fuck?'

She could feel the sarcasm slapping her in the face.

'Zero fucks given.'

For a couple of minutes there was more silence, then another call interrupted Caspar's mad ramblings about the disgusting potatoe salad that one of his mom's colleagues always brought to the potluck.

"Hey, Cas, I gotta hang up for a bit. Call you back later?"

"Yeah, sure, that's fine. I gotta sober up before mom and dad come anyway. Bye."

Connie hung up the call, her finger hovering over the accept button. She wasn’t ready to get into a whole argument with Eddie. This wasn't how this day was supposed to go down. Still, she didn't back down from a fight, so with a sigh she accepted the call.

"What?" she asked, the usual honey in her voice gone entirely.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Eddie said hesitantly. "I know you're doing this as a favor and I was glad you said yes. No one else did me that solid. I know D&D is stupid to you, but I'm graduating, hopefully, at the end of the year, and I'm most likely not going to see any of the guys in that club ever again. And we just lost one of our players, so my head is all over the place."

Connie sighed again. Now she felt like a bitch. She had never even thought that Eddie might not have much of a plan after High School, or friends his own age.

"Okay, listen," she started, playing with a lose thread on her jeans. "I can't do today either, my brother is waiting to be picked up from the astronomers club and my week is always pretty busy anyway. So, here's a compromise, I come to wherever you guys play your game after my shift, we do the work we need to do before your boys arrive and then, if you want to, I can jump in for your lost companion."

Eddie laughed on the other end. "Do you even know how to play?"

Connie smirked. "No, but I'm sure the others can nudge me in the right directions. So, you in or not?"

Another beat of silence. "Fine. Who knows, maybe you'll be better at the game than you think."

Connie smirked again, grabbing the pen from her hair and striking the tutoring session out from her Friday collumn. Instead, she put it on Saturday, the D&D game written neatly beneath it.

"Maybe I will."

TAGGING: @waterloou @firsthorror @eddysocs @ocs-supporting-ocs @foxesandmagic @veetlegeuse @decennia @hiddenqveendom @arrthurpendragon @luucypevensie @richitozier @noratilney @jvstjewels @oneirataxia-girl @wordspin-shares @booty-boggins

#opc2022 #ocappreciation #ocapp #stranger things oc #oc: connie cunningham #otp: munningham #can't put the story under the cut cause mobile sorry #i love this sm though i love them

[pillowaya]

A Bsd Oneshot no one asked for

The sun shone brightly over the grass field, sending merciless waves of heat, announcing summer. It didn't seem to bother the boys sitting right underneath it, uncovered, busy chatting and reading. They all wore sporty fits, ready to play once again, as they all knew each other from the university's basketball club. The only difference was that, what served as a courtyard in their summer meetings, was a simple gravel ground, traced with chalk and equipped with hoops.

"The finals were so goddamn hard!" whined a grey haired, about to cry, his eyes reflecting the sun rays through their yellow-purple orbs. "I can't believe I was this close to failing my first year of uni. And summer vacation is only six weeks long!"

"Atsushi" Sighed a black haired, busy devouring a book of some sort. "We all went through this. Now quit whining and let me read"

Atsushi swallowed a tearful gulp. "And most importantly, this dude is my roommate! The pain is unimaginable"

"You're still first years," commented Dazai with a slightly evil smile. "You have so much more to go through. Just hit me up if you want to commit suicide-"

He abruptly shut up as a certain ginger slapped him upside down the head. Nonetheless, he proceeded to eye the ginger with love eyes. Smitten would be an understatement. "Even your smacks are heavenly, Chuuya~"

"Shut it" Chuuya hissed. "Although I, unfortunately, have to agree with this bastard that there's way more atrocious suffering to come"

"It's all because you were stupid enough to pick engineering" Fyodor, after fake clapping for the abuse he witnessed, chanted in relaxation. "Literature is so, so much better. And so much more comfortable"

Nikolai, who has been sitting on his lap for God knows how long, nodded in agreement.

"That, if you're able to write a five page essay over a rat yearning to find cheese-" Atsushi objected, and corrected himself once Fyodor shook his finger. "Oh, I mean, a seven page essay over a rat"

"You make it sound easier than crying yourself to sleep because you couldn't understand how a machine works"

"Now that's a personal attack!" Before Atsushi could return to his most desired rant session, Akutagawa stomped on his foot on purpose - a sign to warn him that if he doesn't lower his voice, he will sleep on the couch tonight - and he quickly calmed his tone. "I'm pretty sensitive!"

"Didn't we come here to play basketball?"

Asked Ranpo, taking a blue lollipop out of his mouth. He turned to look at the brunet who hid behind his chair. "Poe said that he wants to play with us today"

"No I didn't! I'm n-not ready yet..." Poe denied, a shriveled brown hair strand shaking from behind the piece of furniture.

"Yes, we sure did come to play" the captain, Fukuzawa, stood up and stretched his muscles in enthusiasm.

Dazai was tired. Yet he still wanted to play, because they might not meet like this again for the rest of the holiday. And he really wanted to see Chuuya. The ginger never failed to cause a strange sensation in his chest, as if speaking, moving, and feeling became harder, as if he took control over all of his hormones at once. He was no longer a teenager to have such raging hormones, but whenever he saw, whenever he felt Chuuya around him, his whole heart bumped, his whole body shivered.

It was annoying and pleasant at once. He still couldn't decipher why.

So he, with his massive IQ, made a stupid incomplete plan to ask Chuuya out by the end of the summer. He didn't develop it yet enough to add means or occasions for that. For now, he would just observe from afar and go with the flow. This move itself was unlike him, who planned and predicted every single step of the path he chose to follow.

Or so he thought, until a soothing voice tore the fuzziness in his mind–

"How about we make it… interesting?" Fyodor wrapped his arms around Nikolai, and with a malicious smile, continued his speech under eight pairs of eyes piercing through him. "We play in teams, but every player's points are counted individually. And in the end, the loser is dared to ask the winner out and date him for the rest of the vacation"

It was safe to say that Fyodor impregnated the field with silence for a long, long moment.

"That actually sounds fun" Chuuya stood up, cracking his knuckles, to which Dazai facepalmed because it always made it seem like he was preparing to fight rather than play a sport. The information passed over his mind and reached deaf ears before he finally awoke himself enough to analyse it, and then choked on his own saliva.

"I'm perfectly ready right now!" the ginger smiled wide enough to show his teeth, taking off his jacket, revealing his toned biceps and slender waist.

Dazai choked harder.

"Uhm, Dazai is dying-" Atsushi mumbled softly before Chuuya retorted. "This isn't about him"

Akutagawa held in his laughter.

Fukuzawa, Ranpo, Akutagawa and Nikolai all agreed after that, accepting the challenge. Fyodor chuckled. "Just to let you guys know, I won't lose. But Nikolai will"

Nikolai, who was almost automatically nodding to whatever Fyodor said, suddenly sat up and glared at him in both shock and rage. "What?"

"I don't make the rules, darling" he answered, unphased, to which Nikolai lifted his arms in the sky as if asking the gods to replenish his sanity. "You literally just made the rules!"

"Now now, let's play, everyone!" Fukuzawa, once he mentally calculated who wanted to play, called everyone into the court, rolling the ball on the tip of his finger. "We'll play four on four in our usual teams. Poe said he isn't ready to join yet, so he offered to write down the points. First team is: me, Chuuya, Ranpo and Atsushi, second team is Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, and Akutagawa"

Dazai let out a sound of confusion at that. "But I usually play with Chuuya on the same team!"

"Not this time" Dazai never realized the captain also had a teasing side of him until he saw his petty smile at the moment, and he facepalmed once again. His initial plan was for Chuuya to win and him to lose so he could ask Chuuya out without it seeming like his personal desire, and it would've been so much easier if Chuuya was with him in the same team, because then, he would pass him the ball without seeming suspicious.

He sighed in disbelief and decided to make the best out of it. For now, even if Chuuya doesn't win, he would make his attempt clear, and prepare a route for his upcoming confession. He breathed in and out. "Okay then"

Because, nonetheless, he would still do his best to make Chuuya win. He didn't have to worry about himself, for it was very easy to make himself loose. And even make it look accidental.

The game advanced in a blur. The ball ran tirelessly from hand to hand, and they melted under the sun, still not giving up over it. Every time it entered a hoop, they would all cheer and laugh, careless of who marked it, careless of their both personal and team related points.

"Why didn't you catch it, damn mackerel!" Dazai panted and placed his hands over his knees as he scolded Chuuya. "I sent it right to you!"

Chuuya scolded him back right away. "Maybe because I'm not in your team, and I don't want to ruin my beautiful face for a basketball match! You do realize how strong your serves are, right? Please tell me you do realize you can behead someone with that flying, flaming ball you throw"

"That's because I'm a professional!" Dazai felt his cheek getting pulled at that argument. "Professional my ass!!"

"Dazai! Catch!" Dazai heard Fyodor calling him and growled in exhaustion before receiving the ball. He dribbled it and shot it right inside the hoop.

"Is this unprofessional to you?" He asked rhetorically. "You better play well next time, mackerel"

"Alright, everyone, time over!" Ranpo cheerfully announced as Poe whispered in his ear the news. Half an hour passed so quickly that they barely noticed it, except for Atsushi who appeared on the brink of death, Akutagawa shoving a water bottle in his mouth and wrapping a towel around his neck. It was his way of caring.

Dazai fiddled with his fingers waiting for the results. He felt his heart thump loudly in his ribcage. It was so hard to focus, not only for him, but for the whole group of boys who were obviously not so heterosexual for each other. Fyodor had bright confidence in his eyes, very sure, for some reason, that he would win. It was dimmed right then and there-

"The winner is… Dazai!"

Dazai whipped his head up, eyes as wide as saucers.

What? Hasn't he played with the intention to lose?

"And our fabulous loser is… Chuuya!"

What?? Hasn't he helped him to win?

Chuuya let out the loudest "huh?" sound ever, his cheeks bursting pink. He then turned to look at Dazai who was now, pretty literally, dying on the floor. He managed to choke out, between laughter and hyperventilation. "I can't believe you're that terrible at basketball, Chuuya"

Never in a hundred years Dazai thought Chuuya would be shyly asking him out, yet there he was, the ginger gesticulating in obvious embarrassment and adding every now and then that it's obliged. Never in a hundred years he thought he would hold him between his arms with no form of retaliation, promising himself to make him fall truly for him in the time they'll have together from now on.

Needless to say, it was a beautiful summer.

#Bsd #Bungou stray dogs #Soukoku #Shin soukoku #Dazai x Chuuya

[travisdermotts]

okay but can this finally be the thing that pushes them to let atkins go?

how many times under his direction have we heard that we're a finalist to sign some massive player just for it to fall through last second? we didn't get brantley, traded away happ and couldn't get him back in free agency, couldn't keep ray or semien, hell he couldn't even convince edwin to stay (and this is ignoring all of the horrible trades)

even the people that he did sign seemed like they weren't convinced by him, but rather the players already with the team. it shouldn't be hard to sell the blue jays as an ideal destination, yet it seems he's really struggling to do so.

again, realistically I knew it was going to be a stretch to land ohtani, but the turnover rate under shapiro and atkins has been i n s a n e

#he's just not making our team better?? #idk maybe i'm alone in this but??? #i just never hear players that just signed with toronto talk about atkins or shapiro #always about their new teammates #and when you have a gm who has a history of letting beloved players walk/trading them away then why would you want to sign long term?? #jays

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER TWO: Imposter Syndrome

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You've been trying your hardest to focus on your work, but there is something else that is bothering you. Claire decides to give you a call and check up on you. It seems like both of you are keeping secrets of your own, and then there is this handsome lawyer who refuses to leave your mind after he quite literally burst your little bubble of solitude...

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mentions of domestic violence, Reader's POV, use of reader's fake name

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: It took me a few tries to finish this chapter because I couldn't, for the life of me, settle on a plot, but I think I've got it figured out now. I didn't do the classic "this scene from another POV", I switched it up a bit, so what happened in chapter one isn't repeated word for word. I think it flows better like this. I hope you guys like it, and thank you for your support so far! I really appreciate it.

Read Chapter 2: Imposter Syndrome on AO3.

The human body holds up to six liters of blood. Without saline or a blood transfusion, losing more than two liters can be fatal—and every drop lost after that decreases your chance of survival. A paper cut won’t kill you, but a gunshot wound might. It’s a simple equation that doesn’t require a medical degree to solve. 

If the human body experiences trauma though, everything is on the line. A nicked vessel or artery can lead to a bloodbath. Trauma to any of the major organs can lead to internal bleeding and cause the body to suffer fatal consequences. You could lose too much blood too fast, or the blood could travel to your brain, and you could herniate. 

Depending on the place of injury, trauma can lead to a large number of complications that are therefore a threat to life. But it’s not just blood that the human body needs to survive; oxygen is another vital player in the game against time. Without it, the brain dies, and if the brain is dead, there is nothing anyone can do to bring you back.

Many things could kill a human being, and many complications could occur in a split second, and that makes trauma an unpredictable event. 

Your fingers instantly stop moving over the keys of your computer when the black phone on your desk starts screaming. At first, your eyes switch to your phone, but you have any non-emergent calls silenced. That explains it. 

You flinch. You suddenly become painfully aware of the city’s lights shining on you from behind, the blue light of your laptop illuminating your face and causing your pupils to shrink, and the bulb in your desk lamp that is flickering every so often, reminding you that you need to switch it sometime soon. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, then press the acceptance button. You answer the phone. “This is Doctor Clarke at Metro General,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Jesus,” the familiar voice reaches your ears, and you let out an almost annoyed sigh. “You sound like hell,” Claire answers. 

“And you don’t sound sick,” you retort. 

You aren’t sure what to make of her sudden mystery illness, or why she didn’t tell you and you had to find out from the hospital administrator who was losing it over the fact that her favorite nurse called out sick that morning. 

The phone goes silent for a short moment before she says, “It’s complicated.”

“Hey, we all need sick days sometimes,” you shrug. “Just took us all by surprise, is all.”

“Are you trying to turn this around on me so we won’t have to talk about you?”

Your lips part in a dry chuckle. “Is this about me?” you ask, even though you know very well that it is. You’re the one trying to deflect.

“You silenced your phone.”

With another sigh, you push the stack of papers you’ve been working on aside and take the next folder from the pile. “I’m fine.” You hold the X-ray picture up to the light, squinting your eyes. “Just... splendid, yeah. You want me to do a psych eval? Urine sample? My social security number?”

You can physically hear her roll her eyes at your comment. “Can’t I just be worried about you without you taking it like a personal attack?”

It’s a loaded, rhetorical question asked in a tone that you are more than familiar with. It is a train wreck waiting to happen, but Claire is your friend—a very caring friend, too—and she hardly ever lets loose when she wants to know something. 

She knows you better than anyone, after all. She knows everything, even the parts you swore to never talk about again—parts you swore you would take to the grave. 

That is the purpose of a new life, isn’t it? Forgetting the past ever happened, then moving on? If that could actually heal trauma, life would be so much easier. Unfortunately, denial tends to make the wounds bleed faster. You will die faster if you keep it all bottled up, but it’s easier said than done when it comes to reality. Sometimes, denial is the only luxury you can afford for yourself, even if it slowly kills you. 

You have seen your fair share of traumatic injuries pass in and out of the emergency room over the years. Not just physically but mentally as well. There is only a small margin of error in an even smaller time frame in which traumatic injuries can be treated without lifelong consequences. The scars though, they remain forever. 

“Look,” Claire continues softly, “I’m worried about you. I know you hate talking about yourself, but every once in a while, I have to make sure you’re alright and not... falling apart or something.”

You swallow thickly, the lump slowly starting to hurt your esophagus. “Why would I be falling apart?” you question, but your voice no longer has the same level of conviction in it. 

Feigned confidence doesn’t go a very long way, you’ve noticed. You can’t stand your ground when you don’t believe in where you’re standing. 

“A little birdy told me you had a bad day. That’s why.”

In the halls of a hospital—any hospital—word travels faster than lightning. You roll your eyes, but you don’t know what to say. She isn’t wrong. You did have a bad day. Your blood is still boiling. Everything in you feels a hundred pounds heavier. You may not be falling apart because there is not much of a foundation left to fall apart, but the feeling is eerily similar. 

You used to be a beloved surgeon at a prestigious hospital for all five years of your residency, but with each year that passed, what had once been just a spark turned into gigantic flames that slowly began torching your skin. They burned your flesh and dragged it down to your fragile bones. Your body went into shock over the years. You became septic. And it almost killed you, too. 

Your heart froze in place before it miserably cracked. It didn’t take long before the inferno took over every last crevice of your life. It burnt out everything that was remotely good for you. You were so dependent on something—someone—that was slowly poisoning you. 

You ran for months. You moved from State to State, you changed your name and your whole identity twice. You tried everything to get away, but your demons kept haunting you. The distance between you and your old life grew bigger until eventually, you reached the other side of the country, hundreds of miles from the hell you escaped from. There was nothing left in your past to exist for, so you became someone else. You lost yourself and gained a stranger’s identity in return. Someone who wasn’t scarred from a battle that she almost fully lost. 

You thought it would be easy to pretend to be someone else, someone without the same wounds that have been inflicted on you, but that turned out to be the wrong thing to believe. 

Claire’s voice rings out again. “What’s going on with you, Liv?” she asks.

You’re not really present at the moment, but this time, you hear her. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” It’s a blatant lie, but it rolls over your tongue so easily, you are tempted to believe it yourself before your friend even can.

“You keep zoning out,” she says. “You’re not helping your case.”

“It’s been a long day, that’s all. What’s going on with you?” 

Her lips part in a soft exhale. You hit the nail right on the head. “Nothing’s going on with me. I just had to take a sick day. Migraines, you know? I get them sometimes.” 

You don’t buy it. Her voice sounds strained, but more like she is forcing herself to sound sicker than she is. Not that you are allowed to judge, it simply strikes you as odd, considering that she isn’t usually like this, and it makes you wonder what else she is keeping from you. 

A pregnant pause follows. “I heard about the girl,” Claire says then, changing the subject. You’re both way too good at that. You’re hypocrites.

“Annie,” you cut her off. “Her name’s—was Annie.”

You keep replaying it over and over in your mind. From the moment you received the page to the ER to the little girl landing on your operating table, you retrace all of your steps. You rethink every decision you made, every uttered order, every cut, and every stitch. Every time you do, you come up empty.  

Annie was six years old. She got hit by an oncoming car. It was a gruesome sight, but you kept telling yourself that it could have been worse. She was stabilizing when you took her to the operating room. All the tests suggested that controlling the damage could buy some valuable time for the specialists to do their jobs. In your mind, the path was clear to a full recovery. 

Everything you did to save her life ended up doing absolutely nothing. 

It elicited a feeling that you are more than used to—inadequacy. You know that it is utterly selfish to think that way; this isn’t even about you. The feeling wraps like a noose around your heart, but you can’t allow yourself to make this about you. You’re not that type of person. 

Claire takes your silence as an answer. “I logged into the hospital server and took a look at the X-rays,” she says. “That aortic tear was irreparable, as much for you as it would’ve been for the world’s best cardiothoracic surgeon. This wasn’t your fault.”

Your throat tightens. “You don’t know that,” you argue. “I could have caught it earlier. I could’ve… I could’ve done something.”

“No, Liv, you couldn’t have. But I think you know that.”

You search the depths of your mind for the right words to say, but you come up with none. “Who blabbed, anyway?” you ask.

In this case, though, the question is, who didn’t? Everyone must have heard about Annie by now, and the people around you care too much. It was bound to reach Claire’s ears eventually. You just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Claire holds off on her answer for a moment. “Doesn’t matter,” she answers. It’s the kindest choice. “What matters is that you can’t beat yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.” Her voice suggests that she’s smiling.

“I…I’m fine,” you lie.

“I know you’re not.” 

“You’re the one who called in sick but clearly isn’t. You don’t see me bugging you about it.” 

That shuts her up for a moment. “This isn’t about me,” Claire tries to talk herself out of it, but you see right through her.

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I—” She sighs. “I promise you, if there was something going on, I’d tell you.”

You should return the sentiment. You should tell her what you’re really thinking, but you’re mute. When it comes to your own feelings, all words in the English dictionary elude you.

Still, the feeling that Claire is lying to you keeps eating away at you. She has no reason to. Or maybe she has, but it’s none of your business. You’re curious, maybe a little worried, but you can’t expect her to tell you every little thing about her life and then refuse to do the same because you can’t possibly ask for help with something you don���t even understand yourself. 

You’re miserable enough as it is. You would rather suffer through it alone than bother her with your chronic overthinking and the fear of failure. 

“I’m still cat-sitting for Jenny,” she breaks you out of your thoughts. 

You chuckle slightly. “But you’re allergic to cats,” you say.

“I know, but…” She stops herself. “The point is, I still have an almost full bottle of white wine in the fridge and there’s this deliciously cheap pizza place around the corner. Their breadsticks are to die for, trust me. You could come over after your shift and we could look after that stupid cat together. Maybe. Just until we both feel better.”

Until you both feel better. You feel like it would take more than wine and pizza to make you feel better. 

You need to sulk. You need to marinate in your misery. That way, you can suck it up and be better next time. Everything else seems like too much of a waste of time.  

You shatter what little hope she had about you agreeing to her offer like a full wine glass on a white cloth, sure to leave stains. Your hand momentarily motions toward the stack of paperwork, but then you remember that she can’t see over the phone. “I wish I could,” you say, “but I have to finish my surgical reports by tomorrow.”

Claire nods slowly. “Are you sure it’s the paperwork?”

“I promise.”

She accepts defeat. She can’t change your mind. You’re stubborn, determined, and a pain in the ass most of the time. She still loves you, but she has long given up on forcing you out of your shell. 

Sometimes, which is more often than not, you prefer to be miserable because you have no idea how to be anything else.

“Well, I tried. So… at least call me if you need anything,” she says.

You offer her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You’re tired. Your heart is pounding from all the caffeine and the frustration of the unknown. You have paperwork. As long as you have paperwork, you’re occupied. It’s as good a reason to avoid talking about anything that could be considered even remotely personal. 

“Thank you, Claire. For everything,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

You hate that you’re like this, but you can’t change who you are now or what all those years of suffering have made out of you. You can’t change the fact that underneath Olivia Clarke, it is not who you are. And it will never be who you are because her identity is a fraud.

You may have escaped the worst time of your life and traded it for a fresh start, but that doesn’t take away the paralyzing fear that still sits deep in your bones, making it impossible for you to sleep at night. It may be a fresh start to a new life, but the slate is far from clean. There are bloodstains that you can’t get out. Stains that will haunt you forever. 

Every day and every night that you spend at the hospital, you’re reminded of the terrible past that threatens to overshadow your future whenever you set foot outside. Your name may be Olivia Clarke, but that will never be your real name, no matter how badly you try to pretend it to be. And on some days, it breaks you just a little more when you fail at the one thing you have always excelled at. The one thing you have dedicated your life to. To do something good, to be worth something, and to prove the cruel monsters in your mind wrong about their assessment of you. 

You don’t want to be a coward. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to be dependent on anything or anyone ever again. You forgot how to be happy. You became someone you’re not because the person you used to be was broken by someone she thought she could trust. 

He took everything from you, and he took all that you are. Olivia was never taken advantage of. 

Claire saved your life. She knows the truth, but facts aren’t enough. She’s your only support system, the only one who knows who you truly are, deep down, and yet she knows nothing at all. 

Long after you’ve hung up the phone, you start wandering the halls of Metro General. You haven’t quite figured out what you’re looking for yet. You want to be alone. You want to be not needed. You want to exist somewhere that isn’t here. And you don’t want to be found, just for a little while. 

When you get settled on an empty bed in one of internal medicine’s abandoned hallways that had to be emptied after severe budget cuts affected the hospital, the tears start pouring out without warning. You barely manage to stifle the sobs that slip past your lips. You hate crying. You used to believe that it was a sign of weakness, but tears have become as much of a partner in crime to you as the pain has. 

It’s not as easy as it used to be to hold all of those treacherous feelings in—feelings you don’t even understand yourself—and that makes you hate yourself enough to cry even harder. Because you try, try, and you try even harder as you give all of yourself over and over again to be someone you never thought you would turn into, and still, you find yourself failing more times than you could possibly count. 

Your life ended when you met the man who ruined you; ever since then, you have only been a shell of the person you used to be, and there is seemingly nothing you can do about it other than accept that Olivia Clarke is who you are now, and she is all you can be. 

You didn’t expect another lonely soul in need of an escape to find his way to your little haven. This hallway isn’t even on the hospital map anymore, but he still somehow found his way here. 

Your eyes switch to his cane, the red glasses, and the way he so awkwardly carries himself when he seems to realize that he, in fact, isn’t alone. You know that feeling of instant disappointment all too well, and he just caught you crying, which only makes matters worse. 

After the initial awkwardness has dissipated and you get to talking, you take a moment to appreciate him. His name is Matthew. He is a defense attorney. He is unlike any man you’ve ever met before. You’re cautious when it comes to new people, but there is something almost calm about him. He’s funny, charming, and he’s respectful. He made you feel comfortable from the start.

There is a mystery surrounding him. You know all about mysteries. They draw you in. They make you feel less alone in a way. He is the biggest one you have encountered so far. 

People tend to consider you an enigma, too. Most of them are wary of you because you barely share anything about yourself. You’re still learning, even after two years, to be someone new. You’re constantly reinventing yourself because all you were before is gone now. You lost yourself in the fire. So, most people you meet don’t talk much when they do; you’ve gotten used to having only one friend. It keeps your identity safe, as guarded as you are. It’s the safest bet for everyone involved—or everyone not involved. 

Matthew is different. He seems genuinely curious, but he doesn’t pry. And that makes you open yourself up to him, even if it is just your body language. He’s sitting right next to you, his calm voice like a gentle symphony in your ear. He serenades you every time he speaks. That is a dangerous quality. He’s an attractive man, and you can’t keep your eyes off of him. You can’t stop listening. He’s like a work of art—a damaged work of art.

The man before you is broken and bruised. That’s what makes him so mysterious. The hesitation you showed when he introduced himself, indirectly asking for a piece of you in return, shows when you ask about his injuries. 

You have seen all kinds of injuries, including those on a blind man who fell down the stairs. Matthew doesn’t fit the profile, and that only makes him more mysterious and therefore more interesting to you. 

You have to stop yourself before you ask too many questions. You don’t want to push him away, but you also can’t draw him in. You can be nice, but that is as far as you are willing to go. You hold your walls so high that no one can break through them, no matter how fascinating or attractive they are. 

Matthew is a dangerous man because he makes you feel things that you have long told yourself never to feel again. But it’s hard when he makes it so easy to like him. 

You patch him up. It’s not just professional courtesy; he seems like he desperately needs someone to look after him. You are being nice to him, that is all. You keep telling yourself the same thing. 

You’re still disappointed when you get paged to the emergency room and you have to leave him behind. The chances that you will see him again are low, and they shrink to zero when you return to the hallway four hours later and find it dark and empty again. The plastic packaging of the bandages you used on him is still lying around, but that is all that is left of him. All you have is a memory of a very unexpected encounter that will probably never occur again. 

But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, after all. At least like this, you can’t make the mistake of falling for a guy claiming to be nice. At least like this, you can keep your fragile and already broken heart safe from enduring the same kind of pain ever again. 

You pass the nurse’s station in the emergency room on your way out. Dropping the chart of your last patient on the counter, you wish everyone a good night. 

“Liv, before you leave–” One of the senior nurses stops you dead in your tracks, “Someone left a card for you,” she says.

You turn around, frowning at her. “A card?” you ask. “Who did?”

Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Handsome fella. And he had good manners.”

Your mind reels. There are only a handful of people that would fit that description. Every time someone leaves something behind for you, your first response is to panic. Your blood pressure spikes. You can feel your heart beating up to your throat and your vision blurs. You’re not a fan of the suspense or knowing grins, and it’s obvious. 

The nurse’s smile fades and she rummages through the stack of papers next to the computer. “He only knew your first name and his blindness made it a bit harder to figure out who he was talking about, but thankfully we only have one excellent trauma surgeon named Olivia,” she says, her eyes still twinkling. She can’t help it. 

You let out an audible exhale. Your body relaxes. Your heart rate slows down. You can finally see her clearly again, and she slides the card across the counter for you to take. You want to apologize for the hostility, but her face tells you that she understands. 

The next time your heart starts beating faster, it isn’t out of panic. You look down at the names on the card and the distinctive number on the back, and your brain releases a sudden rush of dopamine. It’s late, you’re tired, but somehow this little gesture puts a surprising smile on your face. 

You shouldn’t be as excited as you are. Your plan for this evening has been tossed far out of the window in an instant.

“So,” the nurse asks, “who is he? A patient? A friend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “A guy from Hinge?”

You shake your head. “Just… a guy I met,” you answer. 

If he were an official patient, this would be highly unethical and you would have to toss his number into the nearest trash can.

The blood has permanently settled into your cheeks. You’re not usually the kind of person who blushes. It’s infuriating.

With a chuckle, she leans over. “Well, either way, the guy was smoking. Said you should give him a call. I hope for your sake that you do.”

You keep twisting and turning the card. “What else did he say?”

“Not much. Just said that I should give this to you and that you should call him if you want. You must’ve made quite the impression.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. You would’ve never suspected this. You are essentially still a stranger to him, and he still left you his number. He wants you to call him.

It makes no sense, and yet it flatters you like nothing has in quite a while. 

You let out a soft sigh before stuffing the card into the pocket of your coat. Looking up, you meet the nurse’s curious eyes. 

Your mind is taking its time to process your thoughts and the feelings connected to your thoughts. 

She chuckles at the bewildered look in your eyes. You must look like a fool. “Where does one meet a specimen like that anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” she says. “‘Cause I desperately need me one of those.” 

A beat of silence follows. Then, you wet your lips and answer, “Abandoned hallways. Way more effective than Hinge, apparently.”

The subtle joke makes her laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You put in the effort to fake a smile with your nod. “Well, thank you,” you say. “You guys have a good shift. If you need anything, page me.” 

“Will do,” she says. The other nurses nod. Of course, they listened in on your conversation. 

With another small wave in their general direction, you make your way outside into the cool night air. You retrieve the business card from your coat, your eyes roaming over the names carefully printed on it, and the Braille that has been added for obvious reasons. 

Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at law. 

From what he told you, this is probably the only somewhat expensive thing he and his partner afforded for a semi-successful marketing plan for their practice. It almost makes you chuckle.

Matt Murdock is a very fascinating man, though as you stare at the card and the number on the back you can’t help but feel a slight hint of unease bubble up in your chest, and you ask yourself, what did you get yourself into?

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fluff #reader insert #matt murdock fic #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

[fullarbiterwerewolf]

The IoT and the Day the Web Passed on, Nearly

Barely seven days prior, the Web nearly passed on.

Beginning on Thursday, October 20, a large part of the U.S. what's more, portions of Western Europe encountered a monstrous blackout. The absolute most famous and vigorously involved sites on the planet went quiet. Poor Donald Trump couldn't tweet for a couple of hours.

What's more, it was all a direct result of modest webcams and blue ray players… maybe even one of yours

Making Associations

To comprehend how this occurred, you want to figure out how Web of Things (IoT) gadgets work.

On the off chance that you're understanding this, you have a Web association. To make that association, your PC or cell phone necessities to have three things:

A piece of equipment intended to interface with the Web through a link or remotely Programming to run that equipment, which contains its interesting Web "IP" address A method for differentiating among approved and unapproved associations The last prerequisite is regularly met by a username and secret key to interface with your Web access supplier. But at the same time it's feasible for different gadgets to interface from a distance to your PC across the Web - "approaching associations." A portion of those are great (e.g., approaching Skype calls), and some are terrible (programmers). Having passwords for IoT gadgets accomplishes exactly the same thing - yet provided that they're solid passwords.

The tech business has endeavored to foster normal strategies to recognize and stop undesirable approaching associations with PCs. Working frameworks are continually refreshed to manage the most recent danger. Particular organizations just watch for infections, bots, malware and different risks and plan programming to battle them. Folks like me expound on how you can keep up with great computerized cleanliness. That is the reason we have far less infection flare-ups than we used to.

With regards to Web associations, IoT equipment has essentially a similar arrangement. However, there are three major contrasts.

One is that the username and secret phrase arrangement might be difficult to adjust - it might try and be designed by the maker, as appears to have been the situation with the gadgets that added to the new Web blackout.

Another is that IoT gadgets are consistently on and seldom checked. Dissimilar to a PC, they could be tainted and you'd never be aware.

Most importantly, there is no aggregate work to screen and forestall hacking of IoT gadgets. No one is conveying general security refreshes, similar to a McAfee or Norton antivirus administration. They can't, since IoT gadgets are unique. There's no normal language or convention that could address dangers to all IoT gadgets on the double.

All things being equal, it really depends on the maker of each IoT gadget to get the gadget and to refresh its "firmware" when dangers become known.

We attempted that methodology with PCs… what's more, it didn't work.

How This Prompted Last Week's Blackout

In the new blackout, IoT equipment made by a Chinese producer - including those modest packaged home-security webcams you see publicized at Home Stop - was hacked by somebody utilizing programming called Mirai. It look through the Web searching for IoT contraptions that utilization default passwords or basic passwords, taints them and afterward gathers them into a "botnet"- an assortment of gadgets that can be made to do the programmer's desires.

For this situation, they educated IoT gadgets to send "several millions" of association solicitations to the servers of a U.S. organization that gives pivotal Web directing data. Overpowered, the organization's servers crashed… what's more, with it, the Pages of locales like Twitter, Facebook, The New York Times and others.

This was conceivable in light of the fact that the product running the Chinese IoT equipment utilized a solitary designed username and secret phrase for every one of them - which couldn't be changed by the client. When the programmers got the username and secret key, it was not difficult to program them to do what they did.

Roland Dobbins, chief designer of Web security organization Arbor Organizations, puts this on the disappointment of producers to cooperate to foster a typical security way to deal with IoT. All things being equal, each organization seeks after its own plans and disregards the PC business' excruciating involvement with this regard.

"I'm not worried about the future; I'm worried about the past," he said as of late. "On the off chance that I could wave an enchanted wand, I would make it so there are no unstable installed gadgets out there. We actually have a colossal issue; we actually have a huge number of these gadgets out there."

Try not to Separate From the IoT

Also Read : Where That IOT Is Heading to Take

Does this imply that positive forecasts about the IoT are lost?

Not the least bit.

In the first place, organizations like Samsung, which intends to make every one of its items Web associated soon, presently have a motivator to foster ways of battling this. If not we won't buy their items.

Second, purchasers won't represent what is happening like the old Betamax versus VCR wars - contending ways to deal with a typical need. The IoT is a stage, similar to the actual Web, and everybody should be on a similar one. Makers will plunk down and concoct normal conventions to get IoT gadgets, regardless of whether they're kicking and shouting as far as possible.

Third, a similar market influences that delivered Norton, McAfee, Kaspersky Lab and the wide range of various security organizations in the PC space will create answers for the IoT. Furthermore, there will be cash to be made putting resources into those as well as the IoT itself.

Meanwhile, here's my recommendation. Get IoT gadgets… yet, just the first in class. Stay away from modest efficiently manufactured off-brands. Get some information about security conventions and whether you can set your own username and secret key without any problem. On the off chance that not, leave. They'll get the image soon enough.

[villasatsevendwarfslane]

Time to plan a vacation!

Seven dwarfs vacations Rental Townhouse: 4 Bedroom, 3 bathroom townhouse minutes away from Disney World, shopping, restaurants and other area attractions.

This beautiful townhouse, approx. 1,500 sq ft, is located in the gated community of Seven Dwarfs. It features a living room with 36 in. LCD TV, DVD / Blue Ray player, CD/MP3 ready radio, 4 bedrooms. (Two Master bedrooms), one on the first and second floor with Queen-size pillow-top beds and LCD wall-mounted TVs and full private baths, (the first-floor master bathroom has a whirlpool tub).

There's also a third full bathroom with an extra sink in the hallway on the second floor, so no waiting to get ready for your vacation plans. Bedroom three has 2 twin beds and 22 in. LCD TV, in bedroom four there's a full and twin bed with 22 in. LCD TV. All four bedroom TVs are equipped with DVD players for those private times and clock radios.

Extras include Wall-mounted hairdryers in all bathrooms for your convenience, basketball, volleyball, family games, audio, free high-speed WIFI internet access, and free calls to anywhere in the USA and Puerto Rico. The kitchen is fully equipped, if we didn't think of it let us know so we can provide it for your next enjoyable vacation. Extra inside and outside folding chairs to sit on the shaded front porch or use to include seating for eight at the dining table. We also have two fishing rods and reels to go fishing on the property.

Property Management Service:

Our service includes maintaining your property in good condition at all times, ensuring that licenses are applied for and renewed, paying sales and tourist taxes on time, paying any rental income to the owner every month, coordinating the replacement and repair of any missing items as necessary, welcome, direct and assist all guest and maintain an open line of communication and promote your property at our website https://www.sevendwarfsvacations.com

24-Hour Emergency Service:

Unlike many other management companies, who have after-hours messaging services, we offer a 24 hours service to the guests, we can be contacted 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for any emergency that arises.

Cleaning Service:

The most important aspect of any vacation home is its "cleanliness". There is no point in you "the owner" spending thousands on the interior decor, only for you or your guests to find it dirty or broken.

When you or your guests vacate your home, it will be thoroughly cleaned. This will include all vacuuming, cleaning, dusting, washing and replacing bed linen, emptying fridges/freezers and disposing of trash etc. We will ensure attention to detail. Baseboards, fans, windows and light fittings will also be cleaned, etc. Also, at extra cost, we will "touch up" any paintwork. All that is required to professionally restore the property ready for your next guests to arrive leaving everything perfect.

We will carry out an inventory of all items in the home ensuring that items are not lost, broken or stolen without due reimbursement from guests. We will let you know immediately when we identify a problem. With our company carrying out all work on your property personally, there will be no doubt as to the loss or cause of damage. Therefore all guests checked in by Near to Disney Resort will be required to pay a refundable security deposit and will be required to pay for any loss or damage.

#Orlando #vacation #DisneyWorld

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello May 31 anon!! This is the 4rth picture already, isn’t it? Time really flies! I hope it was a good year for you ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

#may 31th anon #cw suicide #gnaww I still love these two #but I have to confess that I still haven't watched the latest episode #first I had a bad cold and then the dog was a boy all along and now I don't know #I got a new tip for my pen!! for the first time ever!! c: #it's pretty cool it's one of those felt tips #I didn't knew it was a felt tip when I got it #I didn't even knew there were felt tips #this is just like when I was 12 and really wanted to watch edward scissorhands and then accidently bought a blue ray disc because I didn't k #new what they were and just thought it was a cool looking blue DVD cover #we didn't have a blue ray player #no one has ever watched that disc #I think we ended up storing it in a kitchen cabinet for six years #and then we renovated the kitchen and now it's gone #got it on DVD eventually #I saw the best thing last sunday! #there was a mom and a dad and a baby and the dad was eating a sandwhich #and the mom had the baby strapped to her chest #and the mom wanted a bite of the sandwhich as well so the dad like put it into her face #and she took a bite #and then the entire salad fell out of the sandwhich #onto the baby #the entire baby was full of salad #but it had a great time #I aspire to be that baby #just with less salad on my head

[obsidiancreates]

Master's Degree (Part Two)

The RV speeds through the open gate, Jack leaning out of his seat to press on the gas as much as possible.

Danny looks out the window as the mansion- castle, really- comes closer and closer at frankly alarming speeds. He notices the front door open, and a shadowed figure waiting in the doorway.

Not surprising, given how loudly they're roaring into his driveway.

Jack screeches the RV to a halt, throws the door open, and runs up to the entrance! Vlad steps out, and Jack immediately crushes him in a bear hug! Vlad coughs, taken by surprise.

"Vladdie my man!"

Vlad coughs again, starting to turn blue from lack of oxygen.

Maddie clears her throat, tapping her husband's should. "Jack, sweetie?"

Jack opens his eyes, and laughs. "Oh, right." He lets Vlad go, leaving his old pal heaving for breath.

"Thank you, Maddie," Vlad says with a cough. "He still doesn't know how to draw the line between 'tight hug' and 'death hug', I see."

"Well, you know Jack," Maddie says, holding her husband's hand (both out of love, and to keep him from nearly suffocating their host again).

"Yes, I'm glad I still do after all these years. I was worried you'd both be so different now, after being married and having kids... speaking of, nice to meet you both."

He shakes Jazz's hand, and then Danny's. Danny's a bit surprised by how cold Vlad's hand is.

"Come inside, come inside!" Vlad steps out of the way and lets everyone in.

Jazz cringes when they get inside. "Oh wow, what's with the green and gold? You're a billionaire, sure you can afford an interior designer."

Danny looks at her like she's grown a second head. "Jazz, hello? Football helmets, jerseys, cheeseheads! He's a Packers fanatic!"

Vlad grins. "You know the Packers, dear boy?"

"Danny," he says. "And yeah. I mean, I don't watch sports super often, but Dad used to put the games on and cheer for them even though they weren't our team."

"Just wanted to support my old chum's favorite players!" Jack says, hand on his hips proudly.

"How sweet," Vlad says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Jazz still looks confused. "I don't understand. You have billions of dollars! Instead of buying this stuff, why don't you just buy the team?"

"Because they're owned by the city of Green Bay, who refuse to sell," Vlad spits.

Everyone looks at him with slight shock.

Vlad laughs a bit sheepishly, straightening up. "But it's fine. Money can't buy everything one could want. Like more time with my old friends."

He puts his arms around Jack and Maddie, but his eyes focus on Maddie herself.

"Though I suppose now, it has." Vlad pats them both on the back. "And more!" He gestures at the kids. "So lovely to have you all in my home! Feel free to look around."

Jazz starts taking some notes on how she would improve the decorations, while Danny looks at all the memorabilia. He comes upon a signed football on a stand. "Whoa, cool!"

"Indeed!" Vlad picks up the ball. "This ball was signed by the legendary Ray Nitschke himself! It's my most prized possession. You have an eye for value, Daniel."

"Danny," he corrects again.

"Yes, right. I'm just so pleased to find that we have things in common." Vlad's smile is a bit... wide. Almost knowing. But before Danny can think further about it, Jack runs at Vlad.

"HEADS UP, V-MAN!"

He slams into Vlad, crushing him into the ground. Jack laughs. "I see you've still got the old moves!" He picks the ball up off the ground and stands.

Vlad stands as well and snatches the ball away. "Give me that!" he says, panicked. He checks it for damage. "I never had any old moves, all those years in the hospital robbed me of-!"

He looks up form the ball. Everyone is staring again.

He sighs, adjusting his bow tie. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just very protective of my memorabilia. I know you didn't mean anything by it, Jack, you just weren't thinking."

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "I wasn't, was I? Sorry, Vladdie."

"It's fine." Vlad carefully put the ball back on it's stand. "Like I said, it's good to know you're still the same you from college. Always so well-meaning, but not always thinking it through. Despite it all, though, things always turned out fine in the end."

Danny finds himself nodding. Yeah, that's... pretty accurate.

"And still, it gave me time to chart out a course for my life, didn't it all? Let me plan, make well-thought-put decisions that helped me become very wealthy astonishingly quickly." He smiles again. "All thanks to you, Jack. If it weren't for those calculations being wrong, my life would be completely different now."

"Thank goodness for mistakes," Jack says with a wink.

"Yes, yes. Thank goodness for them. And actually, that's why I'm throwing the reunion here. I wanted to show there were no hard feelings, and let you all stay here with me."

Maddie frowns. "Oh, I don't know. We brought the RV with us."

"But it's such a gorgeous estate, isn't it? It used to belong to the Wisconsin Dairy King, it's a very historical property. I had the guestrooms all touched up and remodels just so I could reconnect with you!"

"Aw, you missed us that much?" Jack gives Vlad a friendly noogie. Vlad pulls away, patting his hair back into place.

"Yes, I missed you both so painfully. And I thought I should get to know your children better, too. I missed out on so many years of being their honorary uncle, like we'd always talked about before The Accident."

"Honorary Uncle?" Jazz crosses her arms. "Let me get this straight, you guys were that close, but still had no contact for twenty years?"

"Well, my dear, sometimes friendships grow apart. Especially after such a horrible, guilt-inducing accident." Vlad looks at Jack, eyes searching.

"But it's all in the past now!" Jack declares happily.

Danny thinks he sees Vlad's smile drop a bit. Not that he blames him. His dad isn't the most... sensitive, sometimes. And Vlad was pretty clearly looking for an apology there.

... It makes Danny grateful for Sam and Tucker. His parents just... left Vlad on his own after the accident, and it only gave the man ecto-acne. Danny got ghost powers and his friends still stayed by his side. He doesn't always remember how big of a deal that is. How their support helps ease the isolation his powers can make him feel.

He looks at Vlad again when Vlad sighs. "All in the past," Vlad echoes from Jack. "... Anyways, I insist you all stay. We have a king-sized mattress in every bedroom, and personal space heaters and AC-"

"Let's stay here!" Jazz coughs.

Danny gives her an unimpressed look. "Smooth."

Vlad's eyes light up. "Not to mention, Jack, that the Dairy King's ghost could haunt these very halls." he nudges Jack's stomach with his elbow. "A chance to capture a royal ghost."

Jack is already to the door. "I'll get the bags!"

Maddie sighs, and then smiles at Vlad. "Well, I guess we'll be staying after all."

"I'm so glad." Vlad gives her a hug. "It's been far, far too long apart."

Maddie hugs back. "It really has."

Vlad pulls away, and looks at Danny. "And I especially look forward to getting to know you better, Daniel. It's not often I meet someone who I can relate to. I have a feeling we'll get along swimmingly."

Danny smiles a bit. "Yeah. Me too."

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Vlad Masters #vlad plasmius #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Jazz Fenton #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic