#Also 2500 words /exactly/ B)

[sinfullyrosey]

Peck a Pretty Rose pt. 1 (SFW)

Riddle Rosehearts X GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Teasing, Touch Starved Riddle, Angst with Comfort, Crying

I had to drag my brain, kicking and screaming, to finish writing this.

Anyways! I love this boy with every fiber of my being, even after all this time he’s still my favorite. He deserves affection. Give it to him. or I will

“What in the Great Sevens are you doing?!?!”

Your attention was turned to the quickly approaching figure of the Heartslabyul dormleader himself, Riddle Rosehearts.

His face was as red as ever, stormy gray eyes sending thorn-like glares your way as he finally reached you. While most would be cowering before the red tyrant or finding his overreaction to be annoying (like a certain redheaded first year), you simply found it to be adorable.

His little, chubby cheeks, still round with leftover baby fat, all red like the strawberries he loved so much. His short stature only making him appear even less threatening in your eyes. He reminded you of a hedgehog, cute yet prickly. How lucky you were to be dating him despite what others might question about your decision-making skills.

“Why, I’m painting the roses red of course.~” You said, oh-so nonchalantly.

He huffed, crossing his arms, eyes still focused on glaring you down.

“I can see that Prefect, but why are you painting the roses red? They are already red, as per the rules, so there’s no need-“

He paused, finally getting a good look at the rose bush next to you.

The white rose bush to be exact.

Anger flared up in the redhead once more as he began another tirade over the miscolored roses.

“Those roses aren’t red! Why aren’t the roses red?! They should be red! The rules explicitly state that the roses were to be replanted red this month! So why aren’t they red?!”

He looked to you for an explanation, hands now on his sides.

“We~ell, they were! But then I painted them white! Only to realize my mistake and started painting them red again!” You beamed.

He gave an unconvinced look.

Your smile faltered.

“Yeah, okay, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedled-Dumb planted the wrong-colored replacement roses and begged me to come over and start painting them while they fetched some more red paint. Grim was supposed to be on the lookout, but guess he bailed. Or maybe he’s napping somewhere..?” You trailed off.

Riddle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperated annoyance. Ace and Deuce, he should have known… That’s what he gets for trusting those two with the most simplest of tasks.

His deep sigh brought you out of your thoughts and he gently took the brush and palette out of your hands, setting them aside. You brushed yourself off, dusting any loose leaves and dirt off you.

“You do not need to be fixing their mistake, Prefect. You should only focus on yourself and your own tasks. I’ll see to it that they fix their own mistake.”

You saw a flicker of anger flare in his stormy eyes. A brief flash of red, like fire, before he suddenly turned on his heels and began walking off towards the garden exit.

“And make them pay the price dearly…”

Oh boy, you better do something quick before Riddle has Ace and Deuce’s heads.

Literally.

Before properly thinking your actions through, you rushed over to stand in front of him, making him stop and nearly run into you in the process. He looked taken aback, but soon glared at you.

“What-what is the meaning of this?! You can’t just get in front of someone like that-“

You silence him with a soft smile and gently took one of his hands into both of yours, cradling it like he would with one of his beloved hedgehogs.

“Riddle me this Rosehearts, how did such an adorable, little thing such as yourself end up as my precious significant other?”

Completely caught off guard, the poor boy sputtered at your statement. A mix of anger and embarrassment blooming on his cheeks. You simply continued to stare at him with that loving smile, calm and unbothered, a complete contrast to his flustered state.

“D-don’t be absurd! Now is not the time for such tomfoolery!”

You tilted your head at that.

Despite having dated for a good while now, your simple acts of affection never failed to get him worked up. Granted, you’ve never been this blunt with him, but you needed to save your friend’s (dumb)asses.

“Why? It’s true. You are adorable. So small and delicate-looking, yet somehow strong and intelligent despite your appearance. You’re like a perfect, little strawberry, just ready to be picked.~”

The intense stare you were giving him was making him feel hot and nervous, especially when you squeezed his hand in a sign of reassurance. The simple gesture caused his face to bloom even brighter and gaze to fall to the grass at his feet. His heart fluttered at the compliments, not knowing how to respond. He wanted to be angry at you calling him small but couldn’t bring himself to when your voice was full of so much adoration and praise.

“The perfect strawberry picked by me, that is.~” You cheekily added, sticking your tongue out at him.

The comment made him shoot his gaze back up at you, mild anger flaring once more.

“Hey! You can’t just-just..! Say things like that! What if someone hears?!”

He briefly looked around the garden to make sure no other student happened to stumble upon the private scene shared between you two. In that brief moment of distraction, you took the opportunity to carefully intertwine both your hands with his, preventing him from using either and fleeing.

He gasped like he was offended over such a “salacious” display. You have held hands with Riddle before, but never like this, not with both hands, and not while the two of you were alone in the garden, away from prying eyes.

And now that you had him right where you wanted, you were going to make the best of this rare moment!

“Ah, but I can my dear strawberry queen. So handsome and talented. How lucky I am to have you a~all to myself.~”

“S-stop…

“Hm, nope.~”

“I know what you’re doing!”

You shrugged, using your entwined hands, you playfully pull him closer to you, making him almost stumble from the sudden action. You moved backwards, pulling him along with you despite his protests. It took a bit of effort and force on your part, but soon you were guiding him along in a sort of jumbled, makeshift dance.

You were twirling him around, trying to keep from stepping on his feet and pissing him off in the process. His cape flowed with him as you laughed at his undignified squawks to be let go and threatening to off your head if you didn’t stop immediately. The sound reminded you of the flamingos, which you further teased him with.

“Enough! I’ve had about enough of this, Rosebud!”

At the sound of him accidentally using his petname for you, you briefly halted your actions to stare at him, meeting his equally shocked expression. He hadn’t meant to call you that, trying to remain serious, only to shrink at the beaming look you gave him.

“Aw, well aren’t you just the sweetest, Riddle.~”

You leaned towards him so that you could place a quick peck to his forehead, making him gasp and eyes widen. His hands tightened around yours at your touch, heart racing. But you didn’t give him any time to respond, too caught up in your own feelings of intense emotion.

“My little teacup.”

A kiss to his cheek.

“Cherry cheeks.”

Another kiss to his other cheek.

“Little dormouse prince.”

And another to his nose.

With every loving peck, his face grew hotter and redder, soon resembling that of one of his beloved roses. Once or twice he’d try to pull away out of sheer embarrassment, only for you to hold his hands tighter in yours, gently pulling him towards you as to draw him closer. You knew if he really wanted you to stop, he’d just use his unique magic or yell at you to cease.

He was just overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle this newfound burst of affection, so you were planning on soaking up as much of this opportunity as you could. He stuttered out your name when you pulled away, smiling brightly at him.

“Hey Riddle.”

“What now?”

“If I was a gardener, I’d plant our two-lips together.”

“Wha-“

And with that, you planted your lips against his in a deep kiss. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, completely caught off guard and not expecting you to do that of all things.

Riddle’s mind was racing with everything that was going on, emotions hazy and struggling to grasp what lead him up to this moment. Alone, in the Heartslabyul garden with you, sharing his very first kiss. A preposterous notion that his old self would be reeling over, surely.

Riddle never imagined himself in such a situation like this. His whole life, he had been working to be the best that he could be, the best his mother expected him to be. Day in and day out, studying and focusing on his academics, never allowed to step foot outside, to feel the warmth of the Sun on his skin and the sweetness of sugar on his lips.

To just stop, for once, and smell those damn roses he so painstakingly took care of so that they could grow and blossom by his own hands.

At first, he was hesitant to allow it to go this far, especially after the recent heated argument with his mother. He felt it somehow disrespectful towards her, despite his newfound mixed feelings towards the strict woman who did this to him, who caused him to fall so hard.

When did he find himself falling so far down into this rabbit hole, chasing the forbidden white rabbit that was you? How did you manage to draw him in with the promise of sweetness that had him feeling so big, yet so small? These maddening emotions, blurred with red hearts and white roses, filling up his head with colored smoke that had him repeating words he never thought he’d say.

How could you have taken this wilting, black-stained rose, encased in nothing but sharp thorns, and made it bloom once more?

His thoughts continued to spiral, even long after you’d ended the kiss.

“Riddle?”

Your voice called softly, but he didn’t answer.

“Riddle.”

He still didn’t respond.

He was finally pulled from his thoughts when he suddenly felt the presence of something on his face. Something soft and familiar wiping at his cheeks, just below his eyes.

“Riddle, you’re crying.”

His slate blue eyes refocus, gazing into your own, worried ones. He blinks at you, still reeling through his emotions.

“What? I’m what??”

With his free hand, he reached up to feel his face, gathering a few stray tears from his cheek and looking at them in bewilderment. He was crying? When was he crying?? He didn’t even know he had been crying, and couldn’t seem to stop, feeling more warm droplets run down his face and drip from his chin.

He was unable to stop more tears from falling. It seemed the more he tried to blink back, the more would flow, painting his cheeks and lashes in a clear, silvery hue. He sniffled, growing frustrated at the mess he was making of himself, and in front of you, no less.

Why couldn’t he stop? Why did the tears keep coming? He hasn’t cried so openly since his overblot, and had promised to keep it that way. So, why was he now falling apart all over again?! The thought only caused more salty, hot tears to gather at the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill and blur his vision further.

“Oh Riddle…”

Your soothing voice cooed, both hands cupping either of his cheeks to cradle them in your palms. His own hands could only grasp onto your wrists for support, while your thumbs gently rubbed underneath his eyes.

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s alright. Just let it all out, okay?”

He couldn’t answer, only weakly nod while you worked to clean his face up and give soft words of affirmation. The whole thing was embarrassing; crying over something so, so, trivial..! It was all rather silly now that Riddle had the chance to calm down a bit. What would his dormmates think of him if they saw him like this? He needs to get himself together this instant.

“It’s okay to cry when things get to be too much. It’s not good to bottle it all up.”

You chirp, giving a peck to his still heated cheek, then another to his other cheek. His previous flustered state returned once more as you began peppering his face in kisses, paying special attention to his now red, puffy eyes. You were careful to plant light kisses on his eyelids, making him flush even more.

All the attention was making him hiccup, trying to clear his throat to speak normally again to get you to stop already.

You moved your attention down lower, kissing at his neck to elicit a few stifled giggles from him. He was just so ticklish there; you just couldn’t help yourself!

He let out a squeak at a particular spot, prompting you to blow a little raspberry there. His soft laughter rang all throughout the Heartslabyul garden, making him push you away to make it stop and end this little game already.

“S-stop, that’s quite enough! Rosebud, please! If any of the others see me like this, then it’s off with your head!” He scolded, catching his breath.

You decided to finally let up, having pushed his boundaries far enough. The poor boy has gone through enough emotional turmoil; his brain is probably completely topsy-turvy by now, unable to tell top from bottom. And besides…

It’s probably best that the two of you left the garden and got him properly cleaned up in his dorm room. Ace and Deuce were supposed to be back here forever ago and still haven’t made a return, meaning they probably got sidetracked elsewhere and got into even more trouble. Any minute they could return, bringing their trouble with them, right into the line of Riddle’s volatile wrath.

That, or they completely ditched you to deal with the dormhead in their stead. Regardless, you don’t want to imagine what would happen to Ace if he saw Riddle in his current state and opened that big, dumb mouth of his.

You shook your head of the thought and instead focused on the short, redhead next to you. Smiling at him, you gently took one of his hands in your own, making him look at you suspiciously. You chuckled and assured him you weren’t up to anything and merely suggested walking him back to his room to help him freshen up and relax.

He narrowed his eyes at you before sighing and relenting. He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading the way to the garden exist once more. You followed along obediently, occasionally swinging your entwined hands playfully. Riddle shook his head at your childishness but gave a fond smile.

[its--ali]

oh for FUCKS SAKE

[ayejayque]

A primer to understanding cryptocurrencies

Cryptocurrencies have stormed the world. In the not-too-distant past, cryptocurrencies have amalgamated into a conventional financial market. There was a time when cryptocurrencies were just used by people who were digitally aware and savvy, and treasured their privacy, and were not happy with the control of a central regulating bank over their money. The sharp increase in cryptocurrency value proves it. Bitcoin has grown 2500 times in a relatively short 9-year span. All cryptocurrencies put together gives us about $2 trillion. If it was considered to be an economy, it would be the eighth biggest in the world. Experts tell us that in the next few years, cryptocurrencies will rise rapidly in value. In this blog, I will shed light on what cryptocurrencies are and why their phenomenal growth is underpinned in the international markets. The issues with fiat money The advent of cryptocurrencies killed off the fiat currencies. Cryptocurrencies don’t have the same issues that fiat currencies have. Central banks regulate the value of fiat currencies. Largely, central banks are supposed to be quasi-government entities. But still, one single entity can impact the value of the currency if they want to do so. This has been the norm in most of the world. In the last 100 years, the US dollar has seen 90% erosion. Since governments mostly have high debts, the currency will not be inflated further to pay off the loans. Genuine investors prefer cryptocurrencies because they are not regulated by any one entity or agency. In the realm of cryptocurrency, no single entity can do that. There is only a limited number of digital tokens to be produced. Once that number is reached, more units will cease to come. This is why cryptocurrencies are less inflation prone. What exactly is cryptocurrency? Two words, “crypto” and “currency” make up this word. All currencies that are governed by the science of cryptography are cryptocurrencies. Currencies largely use techniques for encryption. Encryption is used for generating new currency as well as verifying transfers to a public ledger. So, cryptocurrencies differ from traditional money as they are mere digital tokens. Moreover, laws governing fiat money cite it to be unlawful for people to accept money that is government issued. Presently, we cannot use cryptocurrencies to make straight payments. They have to convert to fiat money before spending. Many people do not like to invest in cryptocurrencies because they are based on a computer network, and could possibly be hacking-prone. This has been proven wrong over the past decade and a half. Many cryptocurrencies have existed for more than 10 years. The system is secure enough not to have been hacked till the present. Way to get hold of cryptocurrencies? People can get cryptocurrencies in either of the two ways written below. - Over the counter: Exchange fiat for crypto and vice versa. For instance, dollars, pounds, euros, or even yuans could be exchanged for bitcoin. Actually, this is just like buying bonds and stocks. But in reality, this can be quite dissimilar because cryptocurrency regulations differ across geographies. - Mining: All cryptocurrency transactions are kept in a public ledger. All participants have access to it. Maintaining these kinds of records demands a lot of computer power. Because cryptocurrencies are “open source”, no one regulator maintains these records with the required computing power. On the other hand, this computing infrastructure is provided by all the participating individuals. So, when individuals “mine” cryptocurrencies, they are basically allowing the network to access the power of their personal computers. This can also occur in cryptocurrency form. Mining is a way to get more cryptocurrency by giving in a computing infrastructure to transaction settlement among already existing cryptocurrencies. Many cryptocurrencies exist in the market. This proves that this is not a fad. The back-end technology seems stable. The survival of cryptocurrencies is imminent. More people have started to understand and acknowledge the positive benefits of using cryptocurrencies. This is the sole reason for the steep climb of cryptocurrencies. Read the full article

[cospinol]

charlotte can i get a like Factions And Locations Overview TM for scverse im trying to decide where my scverse oc would be

YES sorry this took ten thousand years. as you can see i spent most of my time on this ultra high quality map↓. click it to actually see anything on this

theoretically it wraps around, all one sad little planet. OKAY with that visual reference in mind let's do factions/locations !

The northern Four Kingdoms (area labelled West Realm/Rose Domain/East Realm here it doesn't say four kingdoms on it sorry) is the setting of centre of the sun. Verdant & idyllic fantasy kingdom without much intl political clout or significant military power (tho it did recently experience a very bloody civil war); it's united primarily by devotion to sun deity Akadia, who blessed it with the four chosen ones known as sunborn, you know the drill (but even moreso by dislike of the realm due south)

The South Realm (due south of the northern four kingdoms.. you know) has been the fourth of the Four Kingdoms for several centuries, but spent nearly a thousand years as an empire that spanned much of the world; people still often refer to it as the Tasier Empire to this day. Its territory was already much decayed when one of its sovereigns chose to cut his losses and declare allegiance to the high king of the then-Three Kingdoms, but every Tasier king since has had ambitions of reclaiming their former glory, (up to and including their current sovereign Ehen . you may have heard of him). Because of the centuries they spent at best encroaching on the borders of the northern 4k, there's some ultra-enduring bad blood between the two lol

The Illyn Islands/Shallow Sea (east of the 4k) is the only place with more bad blood with the South Realm than the north, lol, the Tasiers have always been at war with all their neighbours but they've REALLY always been at war with the Illyns. The Illyns also spend most of their time at war with each other; it's not really a nation so much as a collection of micro-principalities ruled by dozens(hundreds?) of little branches of the Illyn family. It's also not really a sea; though it does have some larger bodies of water, in many parts the 'sea' that separates its 'island'-principalities is only a foot or two deep, and large stretches of it are actually just dry land. false advertising

The Izar Empire, a dry and arid nation on the east side of the shallow sea, prides itself on being the world's oldest empire, with its royal line going unbroken for upward of two thousand years; whether that's serving them very well is up for debate since that imperial core is historically poorly-governed, and it's supported mainly by the prosperity of semi-independent provinces around its edges + thru trade deals with its little neighbours. Fwiw they do boast of some pretty impressive temples designed by Akadia herself to commemorate where the deities first touched down on earth (though the Illyns contend hotly that Akadia's first step on the planet was actually in the shallow sea)

The most notable of the Izars' more successful neighbours btw are the Moon Twin City-States, the three cities lined up along the eastern edge of the Shallow Sea; they're well-placed b/w the izars/4k/sea and have historically prospered on trade. Also worth mentioning is the Laevin Administrative Region to the Izar's southeast (or kevin to its friends. whatever), a collection of cities ruled by an oligarchic council created specifically with the intention of (profiting by) mediating relations between its neighbours

Due north of all of this btw (chain of islands all across the top of the map, i know they look very great) is Ciellan, a technocracy historically devoted centrally to magical & technological progress, especially piecing together partial designs/ruins of ancient pre-divine machinery/etc. They boast some of the world's best libraries & a great education system but huuuge economic disparity/it’s a miserable place to live for most ppl, and in the past several centuries they haven't advanced much at all. They're the home country of the coalition of architects that worked to create floating cities according to whose blueprints the deities' city was built, and they also later built their own floating city; in retribution moon god Ilida (seeing their 'imitation' city as a slight to his mother's sacrifice) hit them with the first of his three curses upon humanity; this one prevents anyone born in Ciellan or w/ Ciellais ancestry from wielding magic relics in any capacity ww

Anyways, back to main continent, to the east of the Izars is the Aua Empire, which also claims to be the world's oldest empire, and is also technically correct; Aua was founded first, but has spent much of its time split into 1-7 provinces viciously at war with each other. Its sovereignty changes hands often, & it's tradition for its aristocrats/royals to send their children away to be raised by other people so that they can select their heirs with as much objectivity as possible... Aua is resource-rich and largely prosperous despite its political instability; it's currently been under the same very successful leadership for the past few decades, though those current sovereigns are ambitious +tending towards war w/ their neighbours

East of Aua (and west of the four kingdoms) is the Dai Empire, which is referred to as an empire basically as a joke; it's not even really a country, it's scattered with towns and settlements and stuff but they really are scattered and there's no larger governing body of any kind. Dai is commonly considered a land forsaken by the gods both because it's the only area of earth that none of them ever took to/chose to live in/acted as patron to and also bc it has a lot of other weird stuff going on; it's very difficult to navigate and downright impossible to map, a random collection of biomes in random orders that seems to change every time you come back to it. It also has the highest yield of relics (more on them later) than anywhere else in the world, but they're also considered weird/undivine. It's also affected by a wide variety of curses, some divine & some others, also more on those later lol

with factions out of the way we can now do species / special features!!

Human ok you know what humans are. Worth noting that all humans on earth are descended from fish ppl who were given the ability to live on land by the deities, but functionally they're humans yeah

Magic users make up about 30% of the world's population, though it's a hard number to measure since magic here mostly manifests in pretty mundane ways; its three branches are prophecy (visions of the future, to varying degrees), communication (over long distance, & with plants/animals), and body (healing, mainly). It's largely an academic art (healing magic requires an understanding of the medical process you're trying to recreate, star prophecies are more useful with knowledge of standard star charts etc), but there are always little prodigies who can talk to bugs perfectly from birth or w/e. Magic use can manifest in members of any (sub)species !

Relic Bearers are people chosen to take care of divine relics (mysterious objects with some unusual magic property or other, artifacts from the mysterious civilization that existed on earth before current humanity; a handful were discovered by the deities during their time on earth, and the rest were discovered after their arrival and dedicated to a deity by their followers), generally by way of a gentle glow appearing around the relic when the new bearer is in its vicinity. Most relics' locations/bearers are kept track of by the followers of the deity they're devoted to, and bearers generally live a life of relative luxury. Dai relics btw are usually not devoted to any deity/traced by a specific church, tho they’re generally just as potent

Seam Holders are a new phenomenon; about ten years pre-hbtw the first large-scale divine manifestation since the deities left earth occurred, in the form of weather god Aema physically appearing to announce to a whole city that he was dedicating a portion of his power to a human chosen one (Emery Illyn! :)) and that other deities would be following suit soon. Word spread immediately, obviously, since a full-body manifestation/projection a deity hadn't happened since the deities left earth (& it wasn't his real physical form obv, but even a large-scale projection like this is completely unprecedented), and many other deities manifesting to announce chosen ones did follow suit. The mechanic behind this is that those chosen ones are stumbling across 'seams', portions of the deities' power used to 'stitch' the world back together when evil god Jarun tried his best to tear it apart back in the day... 2500 years on those deep-buried seams are resurfacing them again, when a mortal with potential comes across them they enter into a contract with the deity that allows them to channel a pretty big portion of the deity's power+ they get a direct hotline to the deity at all times +can sometimes manifest projections of them. Whee!

Dead Sea witches are a small portion of the population of one small kingdom (Pelagia), who can interact with the ghosts of the creatures that lived in the primordial sea where their dry-land country now exists. Many of them can also interface with a little pocket dimension referred to as the Dead Sea which may or may not be a preserved version of that ancient sea!

Back to more basic stuff, dragons are a human subspecies, who got slightly different biology from regular humans from [perpetually unnamed deity of strength]. Io a pretty typical example; they're blue, their skin is scattered w/ little inset scales, they have big flaps for ears (+sometimes horns), they're several times stronger and more durable than humans

Worms are another human subspecies, optically identical to humans (their skin colour always nearly exactly matches their hair colour, but that's not necessarily a tell) but several times stronger and more durable even than dragons. They're also even more devoted to the pursuit of strength (their deity is battle-focused); while most dragons live as part of regular society, most worms live in travelling mercenary-bands and spend most of their time at war. They have a fun feature where they can regenerate lost limbs (albeit slowly) and relish losing em in battle bc they generally come back stronger

Anemones are the only amphibious species on earth, and aren't considered fully human since they took a slightly different deal from the rest of humanity, which allows them to divide their time between land and sea at the cost of being much more fragile than humans. They come in a fun variety of colours & patterns & often have tentacles for hair :)

Moonblue is the term used to describe bearers of moon god Ilida's second curse upon humanity (this one on the aua empire for its participation in the floating city coalition, but it also affects large portions of the dai empire too because ilida's aim isn't great); it's randomly occurring and not hereditary, & gives its bearers unusual magic powers in exchange for severe physical remunerations. There are a number of other curses that occur in dai w/ similar features, but the moonblue curse is recognizable because its bearers all have blue/white skin and hair

Demons are the result of Ilida's third and final curse (chronologically the first, i'm all out of order here rip), bestowed specifically upon first demon king Ruka+his village+all their descendants entirely for pissing him off on a personal level. This one gives you cute horns + a lifespan about double that of humans, because it really was tailored to piss of one specific guy & most of its inheritors don't consider it a curse / they're essentially just another human subspecies

IS THAT EVERYTHING AHHHHHHHHH... i wish i had cute imgs/chara examples for all these areas/factions. theres also mooore if theres a spot on the map i haven't explained let me know... but that's a general overview :D!!!

[mkyujji]

2020 in Review

My personal 2020.  

Not gonna lie, it was a tough year.

I started out feeling vaguely hopeful that we’d managed to limp through most of the clusterfuck that was an orange shitstain for a president.  Probably should have realized that meant that his last year was going to be catastrophic.

My father died.  

I reconnected with one of my brothers over it and completely disconnected with the other one.  My son and I both lost our jobs, though he lost his sooner and more thoroughly.  I gained my job back when our casino re-opened (thank all the dieties that ever even thought about existing for me finally putting my foot down in F&B and switching to security when I did or this would not likely have happened), my son remained unemployed until late October/early November when he managed to get a job at Wal-Mart.  He absolutely hates it and finally understands how I felt about the Deli all those years.  My ex-husband kicked his current wife’s daughter out of their house, they all got COVID-19, the wife ended up in ICU for a few weeks, my daughter got promoted to manager of her newest job at Dunken Donuts and had two car accidents, further cementing my son’s decision to never drive a car ever.

My son also started displaying concerning InCel MRA like beliefs after 9 months of having nothing to do but sink into the darker corners of the internet that I still haven’t figured out to handle.

I learned to garden, knit, and sew.  I learned to make bread and kimchi, beef stroganoff and bibimbap.  I’m still working on figuring out the card weaving and the crystal resin.

I made it to level 4 on Duolingo’s Chinese course and then proceeded to forget all of it once I was back at work and had no time to practice.

My two podcast ventures have finally started moving forward even if we haven’t reached a point of actually posting anything yet.  (One is hockey, one is mythology and linguistics)

I’ve made 3 cooking videos and 3 knitting videos for my kids, since one of the things we discovered after dad died - well, two things - was that all of his recipes are lost with him and I have exactly one video of my father and it’s his lasik eye surgery video from a few years ago.

In fandom news, I picked up two new fandoms - The Witcher and The Old Guard.

I posted 4 new fics. The Witcher - One Less Bridge to Burn and Destiny (Oh a Daunting Melody) Star Trek - Field Medicine 101 and a Steve/Tony MCU fic for a holiday exchange that I’ll add once creators have been revealed.  Technically I’ve written a second part/sequel to it, but the nature of anonymous fic exchanges means that I can’t really post that until after creators have been revealed.

I wrote 1616 words of Old Guard fic, 14,532 words of The Witcher fic, 203 words of Merlin fic, 1464 words of Star Trek fic, 4551 words of MCU fic, 2500 words of Torchwood fic, 1344 words of X-Men fic for a total of 26,210 words of fic.  Which doesn’t sound like a lot if you’re used to churning out Big Bangs and the like, but after nearly a decade of being strangled with writer’s block, it felt really nice to manage to actually get words out.  It’s slow going, but for once I have actual hope that these words are going to lead to more posted and completed fic in 2021, so huzzah!

I also started a novel which has a framework and a lot of random bits and pieces littered through that framework.  

There were a lot of highs and lows (mostly lows) in 2020 and I am beyond glad to see the backside of it.

For 2021, my goals are to finally publish episodes for at least one of my podcasts, finish at least 4 more fics, and make more progress on my novel.  I’d also like to get back into Tai Chi, but I can’t see that happening until things either open back up or I get more space in my living room.  I want to try to lessen the amount of procrastination that I am prone to.  2020 proved that putting things off til tomorrow means the odds of the person you meant to do them for won't be there gets higher.  I refuse to let my relationship with my non-toxic brother wither again.

I hope that 2021 is kinder than 2020 was in every respect.

[goddessofthundathighs]

Happy early birthday to my twin @panthergoddessbast! Always remember that I love you immensely! 😘

—————————————

VI. THREE-HEADED MONSTER

The sexual tension on the ride back to O'Shea's house was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Erik could feel the way her eyes bore into the side of his face, her stare unrelenting. She wanted more, but he still didn't think she deserved it. She was gonna have to work for the dick, no matter how many times her hand brushed against his hardening third leg.

"What are you doing, Ms. Powell?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

"I was a good girl at dinner. I think I deserve a treat."

"You got one in the bathroom, don't be greedy Princess." This made Shea pout, but she was determined to make him break.

"Please Daddy?" she tried again, sliding her perfectly manicured coffin nail up his thigh.

"O'Shea, I said no," he scolded firmly causing her to recoil slightly.

"No?" she inquired, her eyebrow raised in confusion. Being the spoiled Daddy's girl she was, no wasn't a word she was used to hearing. Erik noticed her change in demeanor and decided to exploit the situation.

"Yes, I said no, Bianca. Any other questions?" She huffed loudly, turning her body back to face the windshield.

"First of all, I'm an adult and you will address me as such. You're going to give in eventually. That tent in ya pants will need to be handled somehow."

"I have Skylar for that," he added just to antagonize her further.

"Nice try, but Skylar is a lesbian."

"Skylar is just like you, she doesn't give a fuck who eats her pussy, I'm just the only man she lets do it," he replied with a shit-eating grin. O'Shea remained silent the rest of the ride to her place, not even bothering to give him a look back as she walked up to her door and into the house. He couldn't exactly explain why, but he loved getting her riled up the way he had. He loved seeing the fire in her eyes when she was angry at him. It made his dick even harder and the dormant beast within him began to come to life.

Let me have a taste, the beast growled.

"Soon, big fella. Soon," he told himself. Little did O'Shea know he had his own Bennie, and Killmonger was an expert brat tamer.

--

"Why in the fuck would you tell her that? She should've punched your ass," Skylar fussed from her seat behind Erik's desk. She was on the computer, her long nails tittering away on the keyboard as she worked on an informative pamphlet for her own clients.

"The three major components of the cognitive-behavioral approach are: (a) replacement of sexual anxiety with sexual comfort; (b) adopting positive sexual attitudes and learning sexual skills; and (c) a program of individually designed sexual exercises to be done between therapy sessions. The goal of this therapy is to develop a comfortable, functional, and satisfying sexual style... How does that sound," she asked aloud.

"Like you copied and pasted it from a generic article but it serves its purpose and describes what we do. I might just change the name of the practice to mine and steal your pamphlets."

"I don't think so," Skylar mumbled printing multiple pamphlets before ejecting her drive.

"You couldn't do that in your office?" Erik teased watching her lips purse in indignation.

"I could've but I was already here," she replied, taking a sip from her caramel macchiato. "So how are things going with you and Shea?"

"Oh the usual, however, I think we're making progress with her attitude. She's starting to learn that acting out and misbehaving gets her nothing but blue balls."

"I don't think women can get blue balls, but go off I guess."

"Shut up you know what I meant, nigga," he replied, blowing the wrapper of his straw in her direction. The pair shared a laugh before Erik grabbed his leather notebook from the desk drawer.

"I need help coming up with the next method I want to try with her. She's the ideal candidate for experimental therapies. We can really take this thing as far as it goes with her. Hypnotherapy was successful, I've taken thorough notes on that session after watching the footage a few times. And the toy. The toy did exactly what it was designed to do. However, it's not just toys and hypnotism. I've found that engaging her in non-sexual ways are just as effective to bring out her little personalities.

"Oh, so you met them already." Sky leaned forward interested in where the conversation was headed.

"I've tapped into her Little behavior and experimented with some of her kinks. Buttercup is the Little and she appears whenever she feels that I'm upset with her. There are layers to that psychologically that I'd like to examine."

"Hmm," Skylar nodded intrigued.

"Bianca is the brat you and I are used to."

"Too used to it." Skylar's eyes roll.

"She's obviously triggered by the word 'No' and tends to act out when she doesn't get her way. She's also fairly easy to contain... Bennie-"

"You don't need to tell me about Bennie, I work in a sex shop. Bennie comes to work every day."

"I'm kinda stuck now... I have all of this leeway yet I can't decide which method to use next. When I look at her I see endless possibilities. Since you know her, what do you suggest?"

"How about you do some type of exercise in which you bring all of her little personalities to the surface? Get her high."

"Seriously? That's it?"

"Yeah. You'd be amazed at what you'll learn from her when she's under the influence." Erik rubbed his chin as he pondered the thought.

"But you know how I get when I'm high, Sky," he said, sending a sly grin her way.

"Boy get your slick ass away from me. Save the bedroom eyes for O'Shea, thanks."

"On some serious shit though, how do I go about asking her to the crib? That violates all types of rules and crosses all types of barriers."

"Well technically it doesn't because it's possible to file it under intensive in-home services," she chuckled.

"Sky..."

"Okay, seriously working with the client in their home is not out of the ordinary. Don't make this weird."

"Aight, so you think we should do this at her crib since I've already been there before?"

"Yes. Her home is easier to justify on paper since it's familiar territory and she'll be more relaxed in her own space versus yours."

"Yo smart ass! That's why I keep you around," he said kissing her forehead repeatedly.

"I thought it was because I rolled the best weed but both compliments will do."

"You know I love you girl. That reminds me, you still got that dispensary connect in LA?"

"Maybe, why? You tryna get some specialty shit?"

"Yes, ma'am. Something that will ease her mind and body and allow her to open up to me."

"I know just the thing. It's called Green Goddess."

"Ooh, sounds exotic. I need two ounces."

"$2500."

"You know my account info. Get it for me and bring it by. Oooh, bring some In & Out too. And Cold Stones."

"Nigga is O'Shea the female in this situation or you?"

"Hush woman and do what I say," he said with a sharp smack to her ass.

"Yes Daddy," she teased in a soft, Princess-like voice.

"Aye chill out, it's been a minute." Skylar's soft giggle rang throughout the hallway as she walked towards the entrance. He thought for a minute before typing a quick text to O'Shea.

Busy tonight?

Nah why?

Netflix and chill at your crib? I'll bring the bud and food.

You had me at bud. See you at 7.

"Spoiled ass," he chuckled as he put his phone away.

The rest of the work day went by smoothly and soon it was time to head to his patient's house. As usual, Skylar came through with the bud he requested and both his and Shea's favorite meals from In & Out and ice cream from Cold Stones.

"At this point, you owe me your life," Sky fussed from her desk. "Traffic was hell. There was an accident, a four-car pileup." She was working late due to Erik and his needy ways so she opted to facetime him as he made his way to O'Shea's house to make her frustrations known.

"I knew it would be something that's why I knew I wouldn't have the time or patience. But you know I always got you, ma. If all else fails, I'm marrying you."

"Choke on rocks," she pouted. "Always using me for the shit you don't wanna do. I'm getting a new best friend, one that respects how great I am and loves me for me."

"If it's a dude, I'ma kill him. Killmonger don't share."

"I ain't Killmonger's bitch," she countered. "And murder is very much so illegal. This ain't the Navy." He smiled, revealing his bottom row of gold. He cleared his throat before dropping his voice several octaves.

"You sure about that, ma?"

"Oh no, put the demon away."

"Nah, you said you were replacing us. You sure you wanna do that?"

"Unlike O'Shea, I can do what I want, but no sweetheart, I'd never replace you."

"Pinky promise and swear on Crip."

"On Crip, I'd never replace you and you know we don't lie on the hood."

"Aight we good. I'll call you later to let you know how things go." The pair shared their goodbyes and Erik exited his vehicle.

"You're early," O'Shea noted as she stepped back to let him in. The clock on the microwave read 5:30.

"Work was light and I figured I'd just go ahead and come over. Problem?"

"No. Is that Cold Stones?" She asked wide-eyed.

"Yes it is and no you can't have it."

"B-But why?" she pouted.

"Later, Bianca."

"How many times must I remind you that I am an adult?"

"Barely," he regarded with a smirk as he made his way to her kitchen. She followed him the whole way, pouting all the while as he pulled everything out of the bags.

"Fix ya face or you won't get any at all."

"That's not fair!" she pouted harder, folding her arms over her chest.

"Life isn't fair, Lil' Mama."

"This is some bullshit," she fussed as she walked to the couch.

"Bet. I'll keep this sweet cream and oreo shit to myself," he teased, noticing how her mouth dropped in shock. Erik's grin only widened as he walked over to the couch with their food and drinks.

"So what we watching, Bianca Boo?" he asked, reaching for the remote.

"First of all, my name is O'Shea."

"You're acting like a brat so your name is Bianca, now answer my question."

"Can we watch Hercules?"

"Fuckin' child," he mumbled as he pressed play on the movie. The couple ate, sang, and smoked as they breezed through their little Disney movie marathon. From Hercules to Mulan to The Emperor's New Groove they relived their childhoods while the Green Goddess indica worked its magic to mellow them both out and allow them to talk and bond on a more personal level. Several hours into the Disney and chill session, O'Shea figured she'd try her luck again. She noted how much more mellow Erik was when he was under the influence, using this opportunity to fully appreciate how good he looked dressed down. The charcoal gray turtleneck clung to his muscles effortlessly, barely covering the Patek Phillipe watch on his left wrist. His black slacks fit him well, as though they were tailor-made just for him. Her eyes remained glued to the bulge in his pants as he sat with his legs spread wide on the couch. O'Shea fought hard to keep herself from staring, but of course, Erik noticed. He had been watching her watch him for the last 20 minutes and the beast within him noticed too.

"You gone suck or just stare at it?" Killmonger growled, startling O'Shea from her shameless eyefucking. The deep timbre of his voice had her quaking and before he could change his mind, she dropped down to her knees in front of him, seizing her moment to strike him down to a base level of weakness. Surely he could not withstand her oral talent no matter what contenders he'd faced before. Skylar was a master of oral sex when it came to women, but O'Shea was the oracle when it came to men. She looked up at him innocently as she took him into her mouth, lightly teasing his tip with gentle licks before finally taking as much of him as she could down her throat. Though she was cursed with a gag reflex, she was still a master at her craft and the way he was moaning above her proved that she hadn't lost her touch. His stout, thick fingers found their way into her curly mane, lightly gripping her tresses to help guide her head up and down his shaft.

"Just like that, Shea. Grip that shit, stroke what you can't fit in that wet ass mouth," he encouraged. O'Shea moaned around his shaft, using his praises as encouragement to show out on the dick. She wasn't sure when she'd get him this loose again and wanted to make sure this experience was memorable. Just as she was finding her groove, he made the most awful sound above her.

"Ah, shit! What the fuck?!"

"Wait, stop moving!"

"That shit hurt, what the fuck did you just do to me?" In all of the 5 years that O'Shea had had her braces, never once had they gotten caught on anyone. Leave it to Erik Stevens to be the unlucky contender.

"I-I'm sorry, that's never happened before," she said fighting back her laughter. He was being more dramatic than the situation really called for.

"Oh, that shit's funny to you? I'm fucking bleeding."

"You're not, but ok," she said standing from her position on the floor.

"Man move," he fussed, rushing to the bathroom to assess the damages.

20 minutes. 20 whole minutes was how long he left her to her own psyche while he calmed down. He knew she didn't mean to do it, but the fact that she laughed is what really pissed him off. Once he composed himself, he walked out to see her back on the couch with her head down towards the floor. He didn't speak to her, only went to the kitchen to throw away the trash and grab his keys.

"So are you going to leave and not speak to me? I told you it was an accident."

"I know, Buttercup and I'm not upset. I just think it's a good idea to end this session where it is. I'll have Harper contact you about your next appointment. Have a good night." With that and a kiss to the back of her hand, he walked outside and back to his car, leaving O'Shea a confused, sad mess. She didn't do well with people being mad at her, especially at this point in her life when her little personalities were fully functioning entities. The buzz of her phone brought her out of her psyche.

"Daddy's sorry for the way he left you, Buttercup. I meant what I said about not being angry at what happened, but what really pissed me off is the fact that you thought it was funny."

"But you laugh at my pain all the time," she replied meekly, curling up into a ball on the couch.

"I don't laugh at your pain, I laugh at the fact that you think you run shit. How about this, let's meet somewhere and talk about it."

"Where?"

"Cold Stones."

"But I have ice cream in the freezer."

"Since when have you turned down more?"

"Touché. Give me 10 minutes." She quickly dressed, happy that he wasn't upset and that he still wanted to continue their therapy and build their potential relationship. Though he was indeed her therapist, she felt comfortable with him. More comfortable than she had felt with anyone in a long time and if she were being honest, it scared her. She hated how vulnerable she was around him having been so guarded for most of her life, yet she liked that she could be her true self without fear of judgment and ridicule for her behavior. The benefits of having him as her therapist outweighed her fears. He got her on a level that no one else had before, not even Sky.

Excitedly, she met him in the air-conditioned shop finding him with ice cream in hand. On her approach, he rested his palm atop her head as if to say welcome.

"So now I'm a dog?"

"Nah, you just small. Have a seat, baby girl." She sat down beside him and began eating the cold sugary concoction of sweet cream, chocolately brownie chunks, crumbled graham crackers and walnuts all drizzled with thick caramel. She bounced happily in her seat as the divine mixture set her tastebuds ablaze. This was one of her all-time favorite combinations and she was glad he'd remembered it to the smallest detail. He smiled as he watched her smiling and bouncing in her element, happy that she was happy. She was eating so fast that she dripped ice cream onto her chin and brand new royal purple Disney spirit jersey. She pouted, but he merely grabbed a napkin and cleaned her mess.

"Why the long face, Buttercup? I thought a messy little girl was a happy little girl."

"Sky just bought this for me, though. I didn't want to get it dirty. There's even a stain on Mickey." She turned her body slightly to show him the smudged caramel on the sparkly D emblem.

"Well that won't do, will it? You're welcome to take it off. You wouldn't want to spill again."

"But I'm not wearing another shirt," she pouted further.

"Less material to worry about. You should enjoy your ice cream freely. Do remove the shirt, Buttercup.. for your own good." She nodded, slowly lifting the sweatshirt over her head and laying it on the table. He grabbed and folded it neatly before placing it on the booth beside him. Now free from the constraints of the jersey, she tore into her ice cream like a woman starved.

"Doesn't that feel better? Your sweater is now safe from any harm and Daddy will worry about having it cleaned. That's not something a little girl should concern herself with."

"Yes Daddy, thank you," she said with a wide grin. It had been so long since she had been allowed to freely be in her little space, especially to this degree and it was nice to put the stresses and worries of adulting to the side, even if it were just for a little while.

"Um... I'm sorry sir, but um.. shirts are required in this establishment... Sorry..," the gangly scooper spoke nervously, obviously intimidated by his stature though he was not in his imposing state. The anxiety in the guy's eyes rubbed him the wrong way. Another negative profile. If that was the case while he wore a sweater and a name brand watch, he thought, the man deserved to feel fearful.

"Several pale skinned patrons are wearing sports bras and cropped bandeau tops, similar to my date's. Are you going to say the same to them?" Erik asked with a raised eyebrow watching the guy stammer in distress.

"I- It's just- Nevermind," the scooper stumbled, making his way back behind the counter. He started to pick up a phone, but when Erik made eye contact and mouthed a message, he put the phone back down.

"What did you say just now," O'Shea inquired, looking from the counter back to Erik's peaceful expression. The behavior of the scooper didn't match his face.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, Buttercup. Take your time. Finish your ice cream and we'll be on our way." O'Shea shrugged but continued to bounce happily as she ate her ice cream, even going as far as to ask Erik for another bowl for later. Because of the way he behaved earlier, he obliged.

"Whadya know, Buttercup! We got this one free."

"Yay!" she squealed, happily thanking the fearful scooper who nodded without eye contact.

"I-It was no trouble, really," he stuttered, eyes never leaving Erik's menacing scowl. As the couple turned to leave, Erik bucked at the young scooper, laughing loudly at the way he flinched, dropping a tower of ice cream all over himself.

"Damn, nigga. You need to lift weights or something," he smirked opening the glass door for O'Shea.

"Where do you wanna go now, Buttercup?" he asked as he brushed a rogue curl behind her ear.

"I wish it wasn't so late. I really wanna go to Disneyland." Erik checked his watch and noted that the park would indeed be closing soon.

"We can't get into the park, but Downtown Disney is still open."

"Ooh can we go to Salt & Straw?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Buttercup you just had ice cream and got a free one to go. Not to mention you still have ice cream in the freezer from earlier."

"Yeah, but none of those were honey lavender with whipped cream and a waffle cone," she pouted.

'You're right, but considering the fact that I'm a doctor who also cares about your physical health, the answer is still no. You are sweet enough." She was upset but didn't protest further for fear that he'd just decide to take her back to her house. No matter how upset she was, Disney fixed everything. As the pair roamed the district, O'Shea's eyes grew wide watching Erik walk into to the Pandora shop. She'd been wanting new charms for her princess-themed bracelet forever, but never had the time or the extra funds to splurge on herself the way she wanted.

"How about I make my Buttercup something special?" he beamed down at her, rubbing circles into the small of her back.

"Oooh, what is it?" she asked happily.

"It's a surprise, but why don't you go get us two of those honey lavender cones and it'll be done by the time you get back."

"Ok!" she squealed happily, taking his card and running out of the store before he changed his mind again. It took her all of 10 minutes to go and come back with her half-eaten cone and his full one. Her grin was wide as she regarded Erik standing in front of the counter with both hands behind his back. His shit-eating grin was back like he knew he was that nigga. And at this moment, he was.

"Whatcha got back there, Daddy?"

"Just a little something for my second favorite princess," he replied stepping closer to her. "Close your eyes and hold out your left wrist." She quickly complied and her beaming grin grew even wider as she felt the cold metal against her skin.

"Alright, open." He watched smugly as her eyes opened and widened. Her heart was so full she thought it would burst. She hadn't even realized that he had slipped her princess bracelet off her wrist until she saw it in its complete form.

"You finished my bracelet?"

"Yes ma'am, chronologically just the way you had it and I started your villain one." Her fingers toyed delicately with the Tinkerbell and poisoned apple charms on the princess bracelet before moving to Maleficent and the Evil Queen charms on the villain bracelet. Then her eyes met his. She wanted to cry.

"Thank you so much, Daddy."

"Anything for my Buttercup. I even left off Anna and Elsa because I know those are the ones you like the least." Again, he'd remembered something seemingly frivolous solely because he knew it was important to her. She felt her little heart swell two sizes.

"You're the best, really." She rewarded him with a sweet kiss on the lips, which he deepened when he grabbed her chin and added a little tongue. Just enough to leave her wanting.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home, we both have work in the morning."

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[stahlop]

Winner Takes it All (1/1)

Must Love Dogs is not going to be ready today, hopefully it will be ready by tomorrow. But in the meantime, here is a little one shot I wrote. 

So this was a prompt I had sent someone when I first got onto Tumblr and never had any intention of trying to write fanfic on my own. But now I am writing fanfic, so I decided to write the idea myself. Enjoy.

And as usual, thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta and helping me make this fic come to life!

Ao3

Rated: G

It was ridiculous is what it was. Emma Swan and Killian Jones were most definitely dating. Ruby had seen them cuddling in a booth together at Granny’s. Mary Margaret had seen them sneaking away from one of the town meetings together. David said that Killian had brought Emma as his date for a work function, but Emma claimed they were just friends and she was  only there for the free food. Duh! And that was the rub, Emma and Killian claimed they were just friends. Friends who did everything together, including sleeping over at each other’s apartments and (according to Emma’s roommate, Elsa) sharing a bed on most nights.

Their friend group had been betting for months on when Emma and Killian would finally let them know they were dating. It had started small. Ruby claimed they were dating and David said they weren’t. She’d bet him 20 bucks that they’d be kissing in front of everyone by the end of the week. But it never happened. David wanted his 20 bucks. Ruby doubled down. Then Mary Margaret wanted in. She believed they were dating too. Eventually, everyone in their little group of friends became convinced it was true, even David. So now the bet wasn’t about whether they were dating or not, it was when the hell Emma and Killian were finally going to come clean about it.

It was Ruby who laid out the rules of the bet. Each person involved would pick out a date for the month. Whomever got the closest would win the money. And no one was allowed to try to manipulate Emma and Killian into revealing themselves or tell them about the bet to increase their chances. After five months, the pot was up to $2000.

Elsa was sure that she had it in the bag in February because of Valentine’s Day (month three of the bet). How could two people so obviously in love not share that with everyone? But no, they joined the group for the late night drinking binge they always went on after the couples in their group (David and Mary Margaret and Ruby and Mulan) had their obligatory dates and came to join the singletons. Emma bitched as usual about not needing a man and what a stupid, made up holiday it was, and Killian nodded in agreement and went home early to wallow. Emma and Elsa went back to their apartment, both as single women.

David really thought he’d had it in the bag with that work function Killian brought Emma to in month four, but Emma seemed to be flirting with Graham of all people. Graham who was most definitely dating August from accounting. And Killian seemed to be flirting with Tink, whom David was pretty sure also had a boyfriend. When David had asked Killian why he had brought Emma even though a) a date was not required at this event and b) they seemed to be ignoring each other the whole time, Killian had simply shrugged, run his fingers through his dark hair and said “Who better to ignore at a party than your best friend?”

“I think they know about the bet.” Elsa said once they started into month seven, sliding into the booth that contained David and Mary Margaret on the other side. Mary Margaret knocked her coffee mug over.

“Shoot, sorry.” Mary Margaret said grabbing some napkins from the dispenser to clean up the mess she’d just made on the table. “Why do you think she knows?” Mary Margaret continued.

“Because Liam made some comment to Killian about setting him up with Aurora, kind of as a thank you, and Killian said he wasn’t interested.” Elsa and Liam, Killian’s brother, had recently started seeing each other. It was still new, but they were already pretty obsessed with each other. Emma and Killian, of all people, had set them up.

“So why does that mean he knows about the bet?” David asked, taking a sip of his Coke. Liam was not part of the betting pool, having just learned about it from Elsa when they started dating.

“Because then Liam suggested that maybe Killian wasn’t interested because he was already seeing Emma, and Liam said his eyebrows almost flew off his face with how high he raised them, ‘quickly schooled his features’ --Liam’s words, not mine-- and told Liam he was being preposterous.” Elsa finished explaining.

“Again,” Mary Margaret began, grabbing the soiled paper napkins and throwing them into a garbage can near the entrance of the diner, “that doesn’t tell us they know about the bet. Just that someone else thinks that he and Emma are dating and they won’t admit it.”

“And then,” Elsa said, getting frustrated at Mary Margaret for all the interruptions, “Killian responded with, I bet you think you’re so clever.”

“They totally know about the bet.” David agreed.

“They totally know about the bet.” Elsa repeated.

They called an emergency group meeting at The Rabbit Hole after that revelation. David, Mary Margaret, Elsa, Ruby, Mulan, and Will (he was their regular bartender, but even he could tell they’d been shagging for months now).

“We need to force this out in the open. They know about the bet. Who knows how long they’ve known about it. I think they’re just messing with us now.” Elsa said.

“Did we just step into an episode of Friends, because I swear I’ve seen this one,” Ruby stated.

“Maybe we should just give everyone their money back and just let them be,” Mulan asserted.

“No way!” Elsa exclaimed, “We’ve been invested in this for too long now.”

“Well, what are you suggesting? Setting them up with other people? They’ll either say no or they’ll agree and flirt like crazy with the person. We’ve already seen it happen.” David said.

“What if we can get them to admit it to someone not associated with us at all, and then we can, I don’t know, catch them in the act,” Elsa proposed.

“And how, exactly, do we plan on doing that?” Mary Margaret asked, getting frustrated over this whole thing.

“Well, Liam is pretty sure that Killian and Emma go on dates out of town. If we can figure out where and get someone from the restaurant to get us pictures, then we have them!” Elsa concluded. She knew they were having sex. She shared a wall with Emma for crying out loud. And ever since she started dating Liam, Killian had been out of the apartment a lot more.

“I’m sorry, what?” Mary Margaret balked at the notion of spying on Emma and Killian, “When did we become private eyes? Isn’t that Emma’s department? Seriously, Elsa, this is getting way out of hand.” Emma was Mary Margaret’s best friend. She hated that Emma hadn’t told anyone about dating Killian, but it was still up to Emma to let them know on her own time, not when Elsa decided to out them by playing super sleuth.

“What do you suggest then, Mary Margaret?” Elsa said, turning on her with an annoyed glare.

“How ‘bout asking them why they’re holding hands right now.” Will butted in from the bar.

The group turned toward the entrance. There were Emma and Killian, casually walking in holding hands and mooning over each other as if no one else in the bar existed.

“Hey you two.” Elsa said trying to sound casual. The rest of the group also mumbled their hellos as if they hadn’t just been discussing the two obvious lovebirds.

“Look,” Emma began, “I know you all have suspected that Killian and I have been dating.” The group held their breath waiting for the excuse that they knew was coming. “And we are here to officially tell you that we are in fact dating.” Killian finished. He and Emma looked at each other, smiled, and then shared a chaste kiss on the lips for their group of friends to see.

Elsa’s mouth was agape. “You’re just admitting it? I mean,” she tried to recover gracefully, “how long has this been going on? We had no idea.” Ruby started cackling in the background. Mulan gave her a good elbow to the ribs to quiet her down.

“It’s been going on for a few months.” Emma said a little anxiously, “We just didn’t want to say anything right away because it was new, and if it didn’t work out we didn’t need you guys all up in our business.”

“Of course. Emma, Killian, we’re so happy for you.” Mary Margaret said, practically in tears. She went to hug both of them.

“Too bad Liam isn’t here.” Elsa stated, “He would love to know that you two were together. He’s been rooting for you.”

“Um, yeah, about that,” Killian said, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tic they all knew about, “He does know, Elsa. We asked him not to tell you because we were keeping it to ourselves.” Once again, Elsa’s mouth dropped.

They decided drinks were in order for the newly-outed couple. No one said a word about the bet. Elsa claimed she’d be having some words with Liam when she saw him later that night, but she’d had quite a bit to drink, so by the time Liam came and joined them, she was in no position to even form a coherent sentence.

“I’m glad you two have finally decided to stop this nonsense and share your happiness with us all, little brother,” Liam said clapping Killian on the back and giving Emma a quick hug.

“Younger brother,” he said but with very little bite.

It was just Emma and Killian and Mary Margaret and David left by the time the bar closed.  Will was in the back counting out the till and David, who had barely drunk anything, left to go get the car.

“So,” Killian said, quirking his eyebrow at Mary Margaret, “how much did you win?”

“I think the pot was up to $2500. So,” Mary Margaret calculated in her head, “$1250 is half. I’ll let you know when I get it from Ruby. She’s been in charge of the money,” she said as if this were an ordinary, everyday financial transaction.

“Good job on getting Liam to make Elsa suspect,” Mary Margaret said to the happy couple.

“She’d been driving me crazy!” Emma said, “Dropping hints left and right about Killian and me. But I knew we could hold off longer until the pot was more significant. Thanks for letting us in on it.” Emma grinned.

“Well, it’s not like I meant to. It was a simple slip up. Besides, you know how well I can keep a secret,” Mary Margaret said, trying to defend herself. Emma and Killian had told her and Liam after they’d been dating for two months, needing someone each of them could confide in. Telling them about the bet had been a complete accident.

“I’m so happy for you two.” Mary Margaret told them. And she was. They had basically been living a rom-com for the past year; one about best friends who were seriously pining for one another.

“Darn it, I guess Ruby gets the money.” Mary Margaret added absent-mindedly.

“What money?” Emma had asked. Mary Margaret turned bright red.

“Um….” She wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Did you have a wager with Ruby about us getting together?” Killian asked looking appalled.

“Not exactly.” Mary Margaret said looking down at her hands.

“Then what exactly?” Emma asked getting agitated.

“Um ...the whole group was betting on when you two would finally admit you were dating. Even Will was in on it.” Mary Margaret confessed.

But instead of getting angrier, Emma and Killian had turned to one another and laughed.

“Mary Margaret, how would you like to make some money?” Emma said, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You ready to go, Mary Margaret?” David asked coming back in from outside startling Mary Margaret out of her reverie.

“Yep.” She said, scooting off the stool and walking over to her husband. They exited the bar leaving the happy couple behind.

“Well, that was exciting.” Killian said grabbing Emma’s hand. He took it to his lips to kiss the knuckles.

“We’re really going to need that money, considering.” Emma said taking her other hand and brushing her slightly rounded stomach. “I’m surprised no one noticed you drinking my shots tonight.”

She grinned at the new secret they were hiding.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89

[elysiumwaits]

Leverage Not!Fic - Accidental Baby Acquisition

Also on AO3 with a deeper explanation of where this came from: You’re So Precious to Me (Baby Mine) - Roughly 2500 words of baby and working through thoughts about children and childhoods. Heavily influenced by some internal turmoil I got going on about parenthood vs choosing not to have children.

I want to see Eliot - big, tough, punch his way out before he talks his way out Eliot - with a kid around 1 or 2. 

Nate, of course, knows how handle a kid, but it’s painful, digs at wounds he’d rather not reopen, and while Sophie’s not the best with children, she can get by - they’re just not her forte at that age. They offer to come by and help out, fly in from wherever they are this week, but Eliot comes in and tells them that he’s got it.

Hardison has to Google everything about taking care of such a small child, Parker has no clue about children that small and is, frankly, very perturbed by the fact that a 1 year old is basically helpless.

So you have Eliot, who does have experience with kids and babies, and, more importantly, a strong protective and nurturing instinct. They’re pretty much stuck with the kid until the end of the con for one reason or another, and Eliot is officially appointed babysitter. Eliot, who understands that a child at this age has a pretty intense fear of strangers and works to soothe and distract and appear trustworthy. Eliot (thanks to his culinary and nutrition skills) knows what a kid actually eats and how to serve it, instead of the bulk barrel of Goldfish that Hardison was going to panic-buy off Amazon along with a massive delivery of milk, toys, furniture, and other baby-related items. He keeps the order for some of the furniture, clothes, and toys, and adds a metric ton of diapers just in case.

And eventually Hardison becomes Eliot’s assistant in their brief stint as caretakers - Parker is good for entertainment, but she really has no desire to be left responsible for the baby. If Hardison or Eliot is around, she’ll turn the place into an impromptu jungle gym, but the crippling fear of something happening to someone so vulnerable on her watch is too much for her to deal with (she remembers the bicycle, after all, and the last time she was any kind of mentor to a kid). She’s got a protective streak a mile wide too, though, especially with kids, so she’s the one who kid-proofs the apartment, to an almost ridiculous extent.

(”Parker, is this a pool noodle on the table leg?” Eliot pokes it - it does look like she’s butchered a pool noodle in the name of safety. There’s another one across the edge of the table, and on all the corners.

“Yeah, kid can barely walk, he could fall and crack his head on the table. I also stole a helmet. Do you think he needs a helmet?” Parker gestures at a backpack by the door, outside of the baby gate they’re using to block off the living room from the kitchen. Eliot can probably safely assume that’s where the stolen helmet is.

He looks back at Parker, who’s sitting in front of the bookshelf with books on the floor around her in stacks. He notices belatedly she’s got a drill in one hand, one of his. “Are you screwing that into the wall?”

Parker throws up her hands, glares at him like he’s said something horribly offensive. “What if it falls, Eliot?! He’s tiny! The hysterical strength response doesn’t happen in toddlers!”

There’s two packs of those outlet covers on the coffee table too, and Eliot decides then and there that the apartment has probably seen worse. He’ll let Parker do as she pleases.)

Hardison is also really good at entertainment, and can do high chairs and naptime and playing while Eliot’s out doing Eliot-things that only Eliot can do. He can put the kid to sleep, but he can’t transfer him, meaning that he’s pretty well stuck under him in a rocking chair for an hour and a half to two hours. He gripes about it, but he doesn’t mind, not really - he likes the feeling of something small and practically helpless trusting him enough to use him as a pillow, relaxes in the calm of the gentle scientifically-proven-to-be-relaxing lullabies playing through the speaker, remembers doing this with a couple of the other kids that Nana fostered for a short time. He usually ends up falling into a light sleep, too. He knows how to be a caretaker in theory, and could easily work up the ability to be a parent - he studied early childhood development, after all - and now that the initial panic of surprise baby acquisition is over, he can handle this.

Parker, quiet as ever, doesn’t know how to feel about Hardison holding a baby, gentle and sweet - she doesn’t want kids, but she wants Hardison to have everything he wants out of life, and she worries that maybe being with her is denying him something.

They talk about it, later, of course. Hardison easily figures out that something’s bugging her, and she comes clean about her insecurities and how she knows that she’s not the type of person that can raise a child and have that child come out healthy, whole, and normal.

(“I don’t even think I want to try.”

Hardison turns in his chair. She loves that about him, the way that he gives her his full attention every chance he gets, even when he’s in the middle of a game. “That’s okay. I’m not gonna ask you to.”

“Do you want kids?” Parker asks, and listens with one ear to the distant, almost-unintelligible sounds of Eliot singing Journey and walking across the floor of the guest bedroom that’s serving as a nursery.

Hardison blows out a soft sigh - it’s not his annoyed one, she’s learned, it’s his thinking sigh. “I don’t… know. Maybe? I don’t know. We don’t exactly lead a stable kind of life.” He gestures at his computer, presumably to encompass all of his illegal activities.

Parker’s quiet for a moment. “I’m not a mom, Hardison. I never even had a mom. I could be an aunt, maybe? What do aunts do? Archie worked for me, but not every kid needs an Archie.”

“Parker,” Hardison says, in that gentle and loving tone, “Being a parent is all about loving them and doing your best. There are books and stuff out there. If you ever decide you want to, and if you don’t want to, that’s okay, too. Hell, someday we might adopt baby grifters just like Nate and Sophie did.” He reaches, grabs her hand where it rests on the desk. “You’re… you and Eliot are enough for me, okay? So, if you ever decide that having a kid is something you want, then I’ll be here. He’ll be here. And if you never want a kid, then I’ll still be here, and he will too.” 

Parker can breathe a little easier after that, but it makes her think.)

Hardison knows she could do it if she wanted to - thinks about how much she wants to do the right thing, about Serbian orphans, about a kid stealing cars to survive, making sure kids didn’t get their Christmas ruined by arrests. He knows that Parker can do anything she wants to, learns new skills and concepts with an intense, single-minded focus. Any child she chose to have would be the best-protected kid in the world. 

Growing up with the three of them would probably end up in a strangely competent and paranoid kid, but ultimately a pretty well-adjusted one. He wonders briefly about what a baby of theirs would look like, if it would be a little girl wreaking havoc at a computer or a little boy climbing through vents. Maybe more straight-and-legal with tech summer camps and ballet or gymnastics.

He thinks about it, lets himself want it for a moment while he gently rocks a sleeping baby that isn’t theirs, one that they’re protecting just long enough to get home. Hardison adds it to the “maybe someday” list, the “pretzel” list, where it’s there if Parker wants it, and only if Parker wants it.

But it’s Eliot who is good at walking the kid to sleep and actually getting him into a crib/bed, Eliot singing classic rock and country songs as lullabies, Eliot who patiently sits through overtired tantrums, Eliot who can understand and respond to the baby babble interspersed with random words. After a few days, Eliot is the one that the baby cries and reaches for. He’s the one getting up with him at four in the morning, long past his not-safe-enough-to-sleep days where he only slept 90 minutes a night. Now he tries valiantly to listen to the baby play on the floor (completely safely thanks to Parker’s intense baby-proofing) while laying on the couch with his eyes closed.

And so it goes, for about a week and a half, maybe two. They manage to run the con and balance pseudo-parenting - Hardison does most of his work from the van, after all, and he’s not above handing the kid an iPad with a YouTube playlist of Mother Goose Club in the name of keeping his family safe (Eliot, even in the middle of fighting off hired guns, bitches mightily about screen time and child development). At one point, Parker spends a terrifying (to her) hour alone with a baby that is fast asleep, while Hardison does some intense hacking and Eliot does some good old-fashioned B&E to send a message. 

The day comes that the con works. The mother is freed and can return to her life, now that she’s not being hunted or threatened. Eliot, Parker, and Hardison have to say goodbye to this tiny human that they’ve grown super attached to. No one cries - not even the baby. It’s part of the job, never mind that they have an apartment full of baby stuff now and a year’s worth of diapers they don’t need. They hug the baby, they hug the mom. Eliot holds on a little tighter and longer than Hardison, and Parker holds the baby just for a moment, just long enough, before passing him back. 

And then they walk away - job is done, after all. 

Hardison’s gonna miss the kid, but in that way where he got attached but he can let go easily enough. It wasn’t his kid, it was never his kid, and he made himself remember that so he didn’t get too attached. 

Parker is quiet. The baby had reached for her, just once, and she’d given him the hug he wanted. She doesn’t know how to feel about any of this, so she makes the choice to stuff it in a box in her mind, where she can open it slowly and pick things out one-by-one.

Eliot, though, Eliot doesn’t look like he’s processing it well, which is actually pretty expected - Hardison knows a lot about psychology and even more about Eliot, after all, and Eliot in another life was a family man, Eliot in another life was a strict but fun dad, Eliot in another life made PB&J sandwiches and played soccer in the mud in the backyard. 

Eliot in this life, though, isn’t the marrying kind - he’s made a promise, after all, “‘til my dying day,” and that’s probably as close to commitment as Eliot Spencer will ever get. He’s chosen his path, walked it since he was 18 and signing up for the army, has spent close to fifteen years choosing it again and again. This is where he stands his ground, with Parker and Hardison, and there’s no room for some suburban house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. He’d wanted that back in another life, with Aimee, thought about it again with Kaye Lynn in their passing moment together. It was never even on the table with Mikel. He can’t drag some poor woman into his life, into what he’s done - he can’t have a relationship with a “civilian,” not without unintentionally grifting. He doesn’t want to build something on lies, doesn’t want to bring a kid into the world and expose it to the ghosts that haunt him from the past.

Besides, he doesn’t think he could even begin to fall in love with, let alone trust, someone that isn’t Parker and Hardison. In another life, where he’d never met them, maybe he could have had that. But here he is, for better or for worse, ‘til his dying day, just as good as any official wedding vow he’s ever heard.

(“It’s not something we can do,” Hardison says later, in the quiet of a closed bar. Parker is somewhere, dangling off of roofs and recovering from the overwhelming sensation of emotions. “It just isn’t. We can’t… you’re wanted in like five countries-”

“Seven,” Eliot corrects automatically. “Well, maybe eight.”

“Parker’s wanted in nine, and I’m just… wanted. In a lot of places.” Hardison taps the table. “It wouldn’t be… we’d be giving a kid a life of crime from the very beginning. And if certain people found out, the kid would be in danger literally all the time.”

Eliot nods and doesn’t say anything. “You and I know that, but…” 

A beat. They think of Parker and Serbian orphans, Parker and Christmas, Parker and a look of astonishment and joy for a split second as a baby reaches for her to say goodbye.

“If she decides it’s something she wants,” Eliot says slowly, softly. “And only if she decides it’s something she wants, we’ll make it work.”

“I got lots of identities,” Hardison agrees. “We could go straight if we wanted to.”

Eliot takes a drink of his beer. “We’ll donate what we’ve got upstairs,” he says - the furniture, the diapers, the sippy cups, the toys, all of it can be used by another kid. “And if she brings it up, we’ll deal with it then.”

“Pretzels,” Hardison agrees.)

Somewhere on a rooftop in Portland, in the gray and the misting rain of the Pacific Northwest, Parker dangles her feet over the edge and allows herself to think. She thinks of foster homes and stuffed bunnies, of bicycles and Haagen Dazs. She wonders how many other kids there are out there like her, picking pockets and surviving day-by-day, waiting for an Archie if they’re lucky. She remembers wanting a “real family” at one point, remembers the bone-deep longing of it back when she was young and alone, back when she was stealing cars, back when she wasn’t rich and wasn’t a master thief and wasn’t one of the good guys.

There’s potential, there, she thinks, in the same analytical way that she processes cons and jobs and plans. She’d have to shift her plans, that’s for sure. It’s all hypothetical anyway - it can sit with her awhile, and she can figure out if she’d like this particular bowl of pretzels or not in as much as time as she wants to take.

Potential, though. Daydreams. What has been, what could have been, and what still might be.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN FOUNDERS

If you ever got me, you wouldn't have a clue what to do: look at what happens to those who win lotteries or inherit money. Isn't the pointy-haired bosses. In OO languages, you can, even if you forget the experience or what you read, its effect on your model of the world. There is a very sharp dropoff in performance among VC firms, because in many cases the language layer won't have to change at all. Then I'm worried. VC firm will not screw you too outrageously, because other founders would avoid them if word got out. Large-scale investors tend to put startups in three categories: successes, failures, and the distinction between the spikes and the average becomes sharper, like a digital image rendered with more pixels. And the big hits often look risky at first. The problem is, for the company to have a low valuation. In fact, if you have a browser on your cell phone? N elements.

But as well as Lisp, so they get the pick of all the parts, as ITA presumably does, you can make the search results useless, because the first results could be dominated by lame sites that had bid the most. If you want to work on what you like, and let people design whatever object systems they want as libraries. Will there be a phone in your palm pilot?1 So the total number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, the capitalization table looks like this: shareholder shares percent—VCs 650 33.2 My guess is that the concepts we use in everyday life that you don't have time for your ideas to evolve, and b you're often forced to take deals you don't like it. I suppose I should learn Lisp, but it is a byword for impossibility.3 Though the first philosophers in the western tradition lived about 2500 years ago, and even have bad service, and people will keep coming. 5 are now widespread. That idea is not exactly novel. If VCs got de facto control of the company 2/4 2. You can start by writing things that are useful but very specific, and then think about how to make money, but what you'd like to be able to avoid the usual chicken and egg problem new protocols face, because some of the most important things you can understand about startups.

The difference between then and now is that now I understand why Berkeley is probably not worth trying to understand.4 Neither Bill Gates nor Mark Zuckerberg knew at first how big their companies were going to spend the weekend at a friend's house for dinner. VCs also insist that prior to the deal the option pool is down to 13. We were compelled by circumstances to grow slowly, and in particular, Internet startups are still only a fraction of what the finished product will do, but that dramatic peaks can only be achieved by people with certain rare, innate qualities; nearly anyone can learn to be a complete picture. Could you describe the person as an animal? That scenario may seem unlikely now, but Fortran I didn't have them.5 The goal is the same as intelligence.6 All they need is a language that actually seems better than others that are available, there will be no more great new stuff beyond whatever's currently in the pipeline for several years after, and finally issued in 2003.7 Don't hire people to fill the gaps in some a priori org chart. That's what happened with domestic servants. Partly the reason deals seem to fall through so often is that you get less dilution.8

So someone investigated, and sure enough, that patent application had continued in the pipeline for several years after, and finally issued in 2003. And yet this guy will be almost entirely overlooked by the press. These heaps o' boilerplate are a problem for small startups, because it's always the oldest it's ever been.9 If you work hard at being a bond trader for ten years, thinking that you'll quit and write novels when you have enough money to pay a little more equity, but being slightly underfunded teaches them an important lesson. This is understandable with angels; they invest on a smaller scale and don't like to get across about startups, that's it. So when I ran into the Yahoo exec I knew from working there in the late 1950s. I know a lot of people wish that hacking was mathematics, or at least to know what they want from me. Probably because the product was a dog, or never seemed likely to be smarter. Barely usable, I admit, this is true.

We might have to give definite if implicit advice will keep us from straying beyond the resolution of the words we're using.10 Maybe mostly in one hub, and it seems to consume all your attention. But I have a hunch that the main branches of the evolutionary tree pass through the languages that have the right kind of place for developing software. They're not pretending; they want to believe you're a hot prospect, because it is the cool, new programming language. And this tradition had so long to develop that nontechnical people like managers and venture capitalists also learned it. Some languages are better than either of them?11 At the very least, you're supposed to be working on their company, not worrying about investors. They'd rather lose the deal than establish a precedent of VCs competitively bidding against one another. Wall Street's language. Since people interested in designing programming languages, a lot of good publicity for the VCs.

Notes

Kant.

Even the cheap kinds of startups will generally raise large amounts of money from it.

There's a good plan in which internal limits are expressed.

And the reason the US. Bankers continued to dress in jeans and t-shirt, they're probably a real partner. Record labels, for many Americans the decisive change in how Stripe felt. You have to do business with any firm employing anyone who had died decades ago.

I find hardest to get going, e. Economic inequality has been decreasing globally. Microsoft, incidentally, that all metaphysics between Aristotle and 1783 had been Boylston Professor of Rhetoric at Harvard Business School at the end of World War II had become so common that their system can't be buying users; that's the situation you find known boring ideas intolerable. This has, like arithmetic drills, instead of crawling back repentant at the network level, because the illiquidity of progress puts them at the lack of movement between companies combined with self-imposed.

The wave of hostile takeovers in the country. This seems unlikely at the end of economic inequality is not to pay employees this way, they'd be called acting Japanese. This sentence originally read GMail is painfully slow. Geshke and Warnock only founded Adobe because Xerox ignored them.

That's the difference between being judged as a type of product for it.

If you actually started acting like adults.

The existence of people. Why go to college, you'll be well on your own mind. All languages are equally powerful in the sort of wealth—that startups usually lose money at all.

This includes mere conventions, like the intrusive ads popular on Delicious, but trained on corpora of stupid and non-broken form, that it killed the best in the sense that if the present, and FreeBSD 1.

And while they may try allowing up to the principles they discovered. Xxvii. Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, but art is a big change in the cover story of creation in the US News list?

Thanks to Chad Fowler, Patrick Collison, Dan Giffin, Geoff Ralston, Trevor Blackwell, and Stan Reiss for the lulz.

[dukeofriven]

Wither Tinkerbell? Part 3: This Episode Was Badly Written (KH Liveblog)

PART 1, PART 3

Let’s look at Sora’s three options one more time: A) He can depart for Hollow Bastion, and in doing so leave Tinkerbell in captivity. B) He can surrender the Keyblade, at which point Hook won’t kill him. (Will he let Tink go? Unclear) C) Sora can walk the plank and die.

It’s at this point my brain broke. Sora is an agonizing cipher of a character - so opaque at times that he basically produces a homunculus later simply to store a personality in and save him the trouble of having one. (For those of you just joining us, I am playing-through (well, watching other people play through because I can’t afford these games) Kingdom Hearts largely for the first time. I have played the Destiny Island portion of KH 1, and the prologue of Kingdom Hearts 2 - everything with Roxas up to Sora coming back to life. THAT’S IT. No spoilers, please. #RoxasForProtagonist2019). Fifteen hours in, here’s what I know about Sora: He likes Kairi. He wants to hatesnog Riku He is super good at hitting dudes with sticks. He wants to help everybody instantly This sometimes causes tension with Donald Duck He wants to see other places And that’s it. I don’t have much of a sense of Sora’s interiority as a person. I can’t even tell if he has interiority. (You cannot tell me in good conscious that this boy:

Has anything going on in there that isn’t this song playing on a loop.

Playing on a loop, over and over and over. That’s why he so rarely interacts with conversations in this game: poor little kid, he’s got a bad case of audio processing disorder and most of the time he’s zoning out to the soothing sound of Tijuana Brass.) That lack of self quickly becomes a problem whenever Sora has to make something resembling a decision because there’s very little there in which to anchor motive. I mentioned Finn the Human earlier:  Finn would rescue Tinkerbell in a heartbeat because his motivation to be the good guy is very clear. Self sacrifice would make sense for him too if the cards were arranged properly: “jump off this plank or I’ll kill Jake!” the villain cries, and Finn chucks himself off screaming “anything for you buddy” - but Finn won’t embrace death so quickly for just anything. Finn would have already called Hook a buttface and launched himself at his face long before Hook finished monologuing. Sora, to all appearances, decides to let his quest to save Kairi go and die rather than... let Tinkerbell stay imprisoned in a lamp? There’s so many problems with this scene I am 2500 words in and feel like I still haven’t captured how bizarre it is. There’s the lack of peril: Tinkerbell doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, making Sora’s willingness to just up and die seem a serious overreaction. There’s a lack of intimacy: Sora’s near-ignorance of Tinkerbell doesn’t seem commensurate with the Christ-like willingness to perish on her behalf. There’s the Problem of Kairi: he sure drops her needs like a hot potato the moment some other random person is put in any state of inconvenience. There’s the problem of scale: four heartless and one dude with a sword stopped seeming like a threat before we’d beaten Traverse Town, why is it suddenly this big of an issue? Then there’s the problem of time: the whole scenario, from the moment Hook reveals that Tinkerbell is kidnapped to the moment Peter rescues her from Smee takes about 1 minute and 28 seconds with no interruptions. The player doesn’t even get to attempt to rescue Tink - we are shown she is kidnapped, Sora makes the baffling decision to die rather than punch Hook in the face, then Peter rescues Sora through the power of positive thinking and saves Tink by just grabbing her (this last part no more than 20 seconds). Then the game lets you fight the four heartless who were standing there anyways. You might be wondering “Why are you spending so much time on this moment that ultimately doesn’t mean much”? Because that’s sort of my point - Kingdom Hearts, a badly written game, is full of moments like this: tension call-de-sacs that are resolved quickly, without impact, and without player or even protagonist agency. Unless its ‘hitting things with his stick” Sora does very little in this game. He shows up to events, is told what he ought to do by other people, and then does them, sometimes with a pretence of agreement but never one that feels like he’s going to go his own way. It’s a little like Final Fantasy XII: Sora might be the viewpoint character, but he keeps finding himself in a story that isn’t really about him. He feel superfluous as a person - if you equipped a sexy lamp with a keyblade and the power to fight heartless, how much of the game would proceed unchanged? What impact does Sora have on his own story? The moments that Sora genuinely makes choices stand out precisely because of their rarity. Many of the choices he does make are guided almost entirely by non[diegetic need: he agrees to team up with Donald and Goofy because that’s the conceit of Kingdom Hearts and also he needs that gummy ship to do the gummy ship sequences: even now, though repeatedly called ‘friends’ by the script, the trio don’t seem to have much to do with one another. That’s why this scene baffles me: Sora gets a very rare multiple choice question and he picks the worst answer possible for no clear reason, motive, or purpose. Sora chooses to die so that Tinkerbell can... can what, exactly? Hook doesn’t threaten her beyond saying that she’ll stay imprisoned. Hook says Sora can either give up the Keyblade or die, and Sora chooses to die without a fight, despite having taken down far larger and more obviously threatening villains at this point. He just folds. And then Pan rescues him and Tink in seconds, and the whole scene goes by so fast it is breathtaking. Why am I spending so much time thinking about this scene? Because its obvious that nobody who worked on the game did. It’s a nothing moment - so forgettable you likely have no memory of it to begin with. And yet: SORA CHOSE TO DIE. This game is poorly written. And Tinkerbell deserves a better than to be Imprisoned Woman #380 in this game.

[n3rdsplace-blog]

What is a computer?  1.0

We live in an era where we cannot imagine our lives without computers. We use them for everything and everywhere; at home, at work, school, we even carry them in our pockets. But have you ever asked yourself what exactly is a computer?

Today we will cover the pure basics of the computer. What is the computer, what is its purpose, and we'll mainly touch on the topic of history.

HISTORY OF COMPUTERS

Computers were designed years and years ago. People always created inventions that could help them in everyday life with their labor work - they invented tools like hammers, axes, knives etc... And then the idea sparked...what if we create a tool that could help us think?  And that's how first "computers" were invented. 

They already had them in ancient times - but in a very different form from what we know computers for now. The first "computers" were actually calculating devices. Most known is the abacus, this was the first invention that we know of, that was already able to assist people with simple operations. It was invented around 2500 BC in Mesopotamia and was a simple machine made out of beads and rods.

It wasn't until the industrial era where first electronic devices were invented but more sophisticated electronic devices or the so-called early computers weren't seen until the 20th century. The first digital electronic calculating machines were developed during World War II. The speed, power, and versatility of computers have been increasing dramatically ever since then.

The earliest appearance of the word computer was actually in around 1613 in the book by Richard Braithwaite, and it wasn't a machine at all, in fact, it was a person who did calculations. It was also considered as a job title and it stuck around for a while. It wasn't until the late 1800's when the meaning of computer started shifting and started referring to devices. 

There were many mechanical devices created in the 17th century that were already able to solve a lot of mathematical functions, in fact, those machines were so successful they were used for the next three centuries. But those machines weren't accessible. They took hours, days to generate the result and were extremely expensive. Some major inventions, for example, were Napier's Bones (1614, invented by John Napier), The slide rule (1633, William Oughtred), The rotating wheel (1642, Blaise Pascal) and many more.

Let's talk about Charles Babbage now. "Father" of the first computer.

Charles Babbage is known for being the father of the first computer. He created and developed two concepts in his life. One being the Difference Machine and the other being The Analytical machine. He was also assisted by the world's first "programmer", who was, in fact, a woman, by the name Ada Lovelace. None of the machines were actually built when Charles Babbage was alive, as he stumbled across funding issues. However, in 1888, Henry Babbage, Charles son, was able to complete a portion of this machine and create basic calculations with it and demonstrated it years later in 1906. 

Fun fact: The Difference Machine was actually fully built, based on the original Babbage's concept in 1991 at the London Science Museum. This machine weights around 3 tones, costs 500 thousand dollars and works completely.

Quite a revolutionary invention was also Hollerith Tabulating Machine, that was also built out of mechanical parts BUT it was already dependent on electricity. Calculations with his machine were much faster and it was the Hollerith's company that later on with years grew into the worldwide known company called IBM.

1ST GENERATION COMPUTERS 

The first computer without mechanical parts was ENIAC, built in 1946. It was 1000x faster than the Tabulating machine and its weight was over 80 tons. The size of the machine was approximately the size of a big classroom. ENIAC and other computers that followed and for the storage of data used vacuum tubes, are sorted into the 1st generation of computers. 

1st generation of computers was around from 1940 - 1956 and those computers were only able to solve one problem at the time and were using the vacuum tubes.

2ND GENERATION COMPUTERS

In the year 1956, the 2nd computer generation was created. Those were the first computers that used transistors instead of vacuum tubes. 

3RD GENERATION COMPUTERS

In 1964 the 3rd Generation came and lasted to 1971. Those computers had integrated circuits and they replaced transistors with silicon chips. That increased the speed and efficiency of computers and were also the first computers that were able to solve many problems at the time.

4TH GENERATION COMPUTERS

The Year of 1971 was the revolutionary year and it's also the start of the 4th computer generation and computers that we use now, also belong into this group. They are known for using multiple integrated circuits, built onto a single silicon chip. 

The birth of personal computers, known as PC'S was in 1981. The computers were simple and reliable. They kept developing, causing the drop in price and improvement in quality. Although the components of computers are getting more and more complex - that allows the use of the computer to be simpler than it was ever before. 

So now that we traveled through years and years of computer history I wonder...What is a computer?

Well... A computer is an electronic device that manipulates information or the so-called data. It's instructed to carry out sequences of arithmetic or logical operations automatically. Computers follow sets of programs and these programs enable computers to perform an extremely wide range of different tasks. 

But a computer can't run those tasks if it's not complete... So what is a complete computer?

A complete computer consists of hardware and software. To make it simple, the hardware is any physical parts of the computer. Which includes all of the computer components such as a monitor, keyboard, speakers, mouse and internal components (processor, hard drive, etc...). While the software is any set of instructions that tells the hardware what to do. 

Fun fact: The computer sees data as numbers - 1's and 0's and those numbers are the so called binary code. Then, computers combine the numbers into more complex things such as photos, videos, movies, websites, games and much more.

PC’S

When most people say computer, they're talking about personal computers. This can be either a laptop computer or a desktop computer - the difference between the two is minimal and mainly based on the portability of the computer.

Personal computers, also called PC'S come in two main styles. PC and Mac. PC's are the most common type of computers and there are many different companies that make them. They usually come with the Microsoft Windows operating system while the Mac computers are all made by the company called - Apple. Apple's computers come with the Mac OS X operating systems but we will talk about the operating systems in the future posts.

And for the end of this post...

Computers now come in many shapes and sizes. Smartphones, tablets, game consols, and now even TV's have built-in computers although they might not do everything a desktop or a laptop computer can.

There's another type of computer that plays a significant role in our lives but not many people are aware of them. They are the so-called servers. A server serves information to other computers on a network. In fact, every time you use the internet, web servers deliver the web pages that you want to see to your computer. Servers are also used in many offices to store and share files. 

And this is how I am ending my post for today. I know, it's a lot of information but there are so many facts I left out today. The history of computers is extremely wide, in-depth and overall very interesting. So feel free to explore it, educate yourself about it, because I am sure, you'll find a piece of history that you'll enjoy.  In the next post, I'll touch the subject of computer components or the so-called Hardware. So make sure to follow my blog and stay updated on my new posts.

Thank you so much for reading and have a great day!

-B.

Sources:

Fire in the Valley: The Making of the Personal Computer (Paperback) by Paul Freiberger

https://www.computerhistory.org/

https://www.computerhistory.org/timeline/

http://people.bu.edu/baws/brief%20computer%20history.html

[sanoiro]

Hi again. I was wondering if you might have any thoughts on why Cain found it odd that Amenadiel was the favorite. It seemed to be a moment in which either the writers or the director (or both) put some weight. Do you think Cain knows something we don't? Lucifer brushed it off as if nothing, but it sent Cain straight to Amenadiel. Sorry if it has been discussed before. I looked through the time line and I didn't see it being addressed. Once again, thank you for taking the time to respond.

Good question. 

Has it been discussed before?  Yes, but every new post is an opportunity usually to revisit a scene and rethink certain things. After 3x14 we can assume that it was because Marcus/Cain realised that it was Amenadiel who marked him. Thus the information of who was the favourite gave him just one more possibility of getting rid his curse. So by visiting Amenadiel, the one who marked him there was a slight chance that he could break the curse and finally die. If you remember Marcus said that he figured that pressing Amenadiel to remove the curse would not work because he was sure that Amenadiel would not be able to do so. 

Now does Marcus/Cain knows something? 

My belief is that there was an assumption over who was the favourite in S2 and that was not actually proven. Also, I believe that Lucifer is not Amenadiel’s task. On the contrary, Amenadiel in a way is Lucifer’s task. 

Lucifer has been far more Angelic than Amenadiel ever was towards humanity. He holds a compassion and love towards it, at first out of curiosity and then out of true interest, that Amenadiel never held. Therefore it is not Amenadiel who has to protect his brother but Lucifer who has to show his older brother what life is actually for. At least that’s how I see it. 

Back to the favourite son part. I have mentioned before that the translation was a bit too convenient. You cannot translate such old texts with such ease and accuracy. Sometimes certain words take the form of speculation according to the context. Remember, different culture, era and purpose can give a text a whole new meaning. 

So was Amenadiel wrong? It’s a possibility. A possibility that Marcus may be aware of. I mean think of this… Who wrote the book? How did divine knowledge was recorded to text in 2500-1300 BC? Another clue is that Marcus/Cain started trying to kill himself in the Bronze Age… The Bronze Age according to the area can be placed between 3300 and 1200 BC. Do you see a pattern here? 

Second thought… If: A) Marcus/Cain kept tabs on Lucifer and the rest of the Celestials on Earth for over 5 years and for us for two seasons… Why didn’t he appear when a mass killing started in L.A. with obvious culprit Azrael’s Blade? Does he really want to die? Or does he want to die and get to Hell, meaning keep his soul intact even down under? 

B) Marcus/Cain and to an extent Abel, were responsible for passing down to the rest of humanity information on God, Angels and of course celestial objects…? Doesn’t that mean that Marcus can read the metallic book? The same book which I doubt that Lucifer has thrown away? Let’s not forget that the book had a page dedicated to the medallion of life, one for the blade and the rest… Who knows…  

But the Meddalion of Life was found at a Navaho gift shop in New Mexico. Now consider this. Why does Marcus have a more southern US appearance with boots etc? Can we hypothesize that the belt might have been planted there by Marcus/Cain in hopes that he would be able to find some answers by the projection of God and things got a bit out of hand? 

And now consider how did Zeke get a hold of the metallic book? He was an import-export manager who basically helped the Ruiz (Mexican?) family to smuggle drugs in the US. I’ll assume here from Mexico so can we also assume that the book was in the same region as well? Two pieces of Middle-Eastern origin were found in the same region… How? A private collection? An ancient private collection perhaps? At this point my answer is… What if Marcus was bewildered by Lucifer’s comment because he either was the one who owned the book at some point and knew exactly how to bring it to Lucifer’s hands or that at some point in history Marcus/Cain hoarded objects that he thought might be helpful for his goal… What if he wrote the book... Meaning that in either case Marcus/Cain might know exactly what the book was saying and when Lucifer told him about the favourite son part he was surprised as Amenadiel either mistranslated a part or he didn’t get the whole meaning out of the book… 

In short, although my belief that Lucifer is not the favourite son is but a sham led from an assumption in S2, Marcus/Cain’s involvement might be deeper than we ever thought it to be. In 3x13 we got to know that Marcus knew about how Amenadiel dealt with the issue of Lucifer being on Earth and was aware of its disastrous results, meaning that Amenadiel was powerless. It is therefore not too farfetched to believe that Marcus/Cain knows way too many things that we as the audience but also the other characters are unaware of as we have not made the right connections yet. 

^ Was that too complicated? Did I go too far with this? 

[longneckreach]

2021 Dragon Share: Clarion

Day 12: Most Expensive

This one was a three-way tie. In terms of the most resources I’ve dropped on dragons in a day, Camelot and Avalon take the prize; but I’ve already featured them, and anyway, there’s two of them and I breed-changed and gened them all at once, which skews the results. 

Tranquility was also a contender; while I didn’t gene him myself (just the Smoke tert) and only paid gold for him, a) I was a lot poorer back then, he’s actually one of my oldest dragons and b) that was back when irishim was in its HEYDAY. Iri/Shim/Circuit was like, the single fanciest dragon you could imagine. Buying an XYY irishim Imperial was a MASSIVE expense at the time. But even with his familiar and the gem background, he wasn’t objectively my most expensive dragon even adjusting for dragon inflation.

Clarion here (he/him) wins out in that regard, actually. While he himself wasn’t overly expensive, finding a bronze/bronze male with an acceptable tertiary color was harder than it sounds. (Still haven’t found a use for that platinum, but I’m sure it’ll show up someday.) He did NOT come with Petals, though, and I never dropped 2500 gems at once before or since.

As a common breed with only one gem gene and no tert, his offspring don’t exactly inspire a lot of competition; but I could never give him any other secondary, not when the peregrine brings out such stunning flamelike shades in his fur and accents his primary so well. You’ve all heard my rants about aesthetic and overall effect taking priority over “marketable” genes and Clarion is the perfect example. He may never be in huge demand, but he’s drop-dead gorgeous and I wouldn’t change a thing about his design.

Both Clarion and his Harpy brother, Freegale, were among the war orphans adopted by Hamilton during her time in a port city at the height of beastclan tensions. A single dragon, however talented or clever, trying to provide for six hungry youngsters meant that there was never quite enough to go around and that Hamilton herself went hungry more nights than not to ensure the little ones she'd taken in had something to eat. Hrinin, the Centaur foal who was the eldest of their ragtag group, would often give Clarion the lion's share of his own food; they were both herbivores, but Clarion was among the youngest and fastest-growing. When their scared, hungry little family met Iskan and Liendra and were immediately brought under the wing of the unlikely pair, those early days of fear and uncertainty started to be forgotten. Their sister Ylla doesn't remember it at all, and while sometimes certain scents will bring with them images and flashes of memory, a Tundra's healing forgetfulness has worked its magic on Clarion as well. His clear memories all involve his mothers and siblings; Liendra's little attic den only ever meant for two where they'd lived cramped but happy for a year until it was decided to find a safe place in the country, the exciting journey over the ocean to Longneck Reach, and of course the Reach herself. Always of matching shy dispositions, Freegale and Clarion have been inseparable since childhood. The nearby Harpy clan offered to take in Hamilton's young prince almost before word could be sent that he'd arrived; but Freegale wanted to stay with his family. After a few weeks of occasionally tense negotiations, Maiden was able to calm the flock enough for them to admit that they did not want to take a child away from the people he loved against his will. He comes and goes from their territory as he wishes, with no expectation that he'll stay there. Today he can usually be found with his claws wound into his brother's fur, balancing expertly as they gallop off toward their next adventure. And adventures are more frequent than one might expect for the two of them. Clarion, his steady disposition paired with a brilliantly quick mind, took an interest in his mother's law books at a young age and dove into them with fierce, shining idealism. Quick-witted and with a ready, sparkling smile, he specializes in trade negotiations and territory disputes and, while he'll never be a diplomat, is very good at developing the precise wording of treaties. Clarion's agreements are quickly gaining a reputation for being scrupulously fair and beneficial to both parties, especially in beastclan affairs.

[13eyond13]

Do you have any headcanons about B? Like if B had an older sister what would their relationship be like? Sorry if that's weird but I'd like to think If he had a better support system he wouldn't have done the whole LABB thing

Hi Anon, thank you so much for asking! I love getting headcanonquestions, especially about B.This is such an interestingquestion! I’ve never imagined Beyond as anything but an only childbefore, just because B’s only relatives mentioned in the novel arehis parents. He was seemingly orphaned after their deaths, so you’reright, he likely didn’t have a good support network or other closefamily capable of taking care of him. We were only told a fewvague sentences about B’s past: We were told:

[1]B had a father who was murdered by a mugger.[2] B had a motherwho died in a train crash.[3] B had the shinigami eyes sincebirth, somehow.[4]B knew what the lifespans meant, and knew that he was incapable ofever changing the numbers.

I really do like the idea of Bwith a protective older sister, though, and how that might have changed things for him. I’ll run through how Iimagine this AU might have looked if he did:(this turned out VERY long and very in-depth lol, like approx. 2500 words, and I totally understand if you don’t want to read the whole thing! I’ll put it under a cut here):

B’s BABY YEARS:

B’s sister is seven years older than him, because he was a surprise pregnancy for his parents.

She hates him at first, because she’s so used to being an only child, but he’s actually a very pleasant baby – quiet and alert and cheerful, doesn’t cry much.

His sister still hates him until he’s about two. She sometimes stands over his crib whispering mean things to him, but he just gazes up at her adoringly and smiles and coos at her until she feels very guilty about it, and goes away again.

B’s TODDLER YEARS:

 B follows his big sister everywhere as soon as he can walk. He is very affectionate, always asking to be picked up and carried around. He snuggles into her neck and plays with her hair, and calls her a funny bungled version of her name, because he has trouble pronouncing his R’s. This melts her heart pretty quickly, and she soon forgets she ever resented him.

B’s sister finds she really likes playing mother with him – she loves getting him dressed and feeding him snacks, and teaching him things whenever he asks – which he does often, because he is a very curious & bright child.

B hits his childhood development milestones very early, and it’s speculated that he’s very intelligent, likely a certifiable genius. His medical checkups reveal nothing unusual about his brain or his eyes, but he always seems much older than he really is – about double his actual age, mentally at least.

B seems to daydream a lot, and to easily be distracted, especially if he’s in large crowds of people. He often says strange things that nobody can make sense of, but his family mostly writes it off as a personality quirk, or a byproduct of his big imagination.

His sister is very interested in nurturing B’s intelligence; their parents are always busy, both working hard to make ends meet, and so when she babysits B she starts teaching him to read and do math. He’s reading grade six level chapter books out loud to her by the time he’s three. B starts asking his family very strange questions soon after he becomes literate.

B’s EARLY CHILDHOOD YEARS:

B starts asking his family about all the floating numbers and the names. He points to the spot just above people’s heads and recites exactly what he sees out loud. He is shocked that nobody else can see them. He knows the name of anyone he sees, whether or not he’s ever met them before. “Why are your numbers so much longer than hers?” he might ask his sister, or “Why does the man’s name say this when we actually call him this?” “Why don’t I have any letters or numbers above my own head when I look in the mirror, or when I look at pictures of me?”

His family is astonished, and somewhat frightened. They quickly realize it is not just the strange imaginative games of a small child. 

They start doing little experiments with him to make sense of it, and find it seems to be related specifically to B’s vision; he has to see a person’s face for it to work. He can point to any person in any photograph and tell you exactly what their name and number is, as long as their features aren’t obscured. The people in photographs only have numbers sometimes, he says; for example, his family shows him a book of old black & white war photographs, and according to B not a single person in it has numbers. He says the numbers are always changing for people he sees everyday, but that their names never do; he says that the numbers only ever get shorter for everyone, not longer. 

B’s parents ask him about their own numbers. They ask about his sister’s, too, but B senses that the whole thing is making his sister feel very anxious. B trusts his sister’s intuition with all his heart and is very loyal to her, so he refuses to divulge any of his family’s numbers to anyone. His sister is very relieved by this, though she doesn’t fully know why yet; she is very proud of B and his unusual gifts, but something about the numbers part of it always gives her a queasy feeling in her stomach.

The whole numbers thing starts making sense for everyone once their elderly landlady dies and they attend her funeral. Four year old B says her numbers are completely gone now when he looks into the casket. He says the numbers are always pretty short for old people, but that hers were the shortest ones he’d ever seen.

B’s LATER CHILDHOOD YEARS:

Once it’s discovered what the numbers actually mean, B’s parents start fighting about it. His mother wants to use B’s abilities to make money, and pressures his father constantly about it.

B’s dad is just obsessed with finding out his own lifespan. He tries to coax it out of B nicely at first, then pressures him with guilt, but B will not budge on the matter, and remains very tight-lipped.

Theirparents start fighting secretly every night when B and his sister arein bed, and it’s always about whether or not they should attempt to make money off B’s talents. They try to be quiet, but the kids still overhear all of it. They could use the money to put both the kids through school and to move to a nicer neighbourhood, his mother says. It would be good for the whole family, if they were smart and careful about who they partnered up with, she says.

B and his sister become inseparable through all of this familial stress. B often asks to sleep in her bed with her when he has bad dreams, and so her pseudo mothering of B continues as he grows. 

B’s sister never asks him about the numbers or the names, and just treats B like a normal person. She tries to focus his mind on other things, and aims to keep him feeling good about his abilities instead of guilty or stressed whenever he mentions them. 

He confides in her during one of their sleepovers that he knows how to mostly work out the lifespan formula automatically now when he looks at people, but that it’s not totally flawless yet; the numbers are very tricky, but he thinks he can narrow the timeline down accurately to within a few weeks of the death date. He does these calculations automatically without meaning to every time he looks at people now, and he hates it. 

He is very sad about finally understanding the lifespans of their parents, and says he wishes more than anything he knew of a way to make people’s numbers get longer instead of shorter.

B’s PRE-TEEN YEARS:

B’s dad loses his job, and starts seriously considering his wife’s insistence that B is their ticket out of their financial struggles. They start seriously scheming about maybe contacting some talent scouts to meet with, secretly after B goes to bed. 

 B’s sister internalizes B’s morbid knowledge about their parents’ lifespans, and starts growing up very quickly as a result. She takes on two part-time jobs while finishing up her final year in high school and saves up a lot of money. 

B’s parents never end up actually monetizing his talents, but they do end up divorcing due to the constant fighting.

B’s sister moves out on her own as soon as she turns 18, into a crappy two bedroom apartment in the city near her work.

B’s parents both die soon after, within a year and a half of each other. It’s a very rough time for B and his sister, as they loved their parents dearly in spite of their flaws and have no other living family. Their parents left them with some debt, but B and his sister are each other’s emotional support all throughout the grieving, and manage to stay strong all throughout.

B’s TEEN YEARS:

B’s sister becomes his legal guardian, and he moves into her spare room. They happily stop talking about his strange abilities altogether.

They make a pretty good team when it comes to splitting the domestic duties. He loves to clean and does it for fun, so the place is always absolutely spotless. 

B’s sister is generally an awful cook, but she knows how to make a mean sandwich, and she always keeps the place cozy and smelling nice by burning incense, and furnishing the rooms with the perfectly good things she finds thrifting. She has a real knack for interior design, and plans on maybe pursuing it someday, once B is finished high school and able to better financially contribute to the household.

When B is about fifteen years old, his sister notices that he’s never once shown an interest in girls. He also is very curious about her morning routine, and watches how she gets ready for work very closely. She never lets on that she notices this, but she starts casually narrating the steps she takes to apply her makeup and do her hair.

One day, B’s sister finds some of her foundation and eyeliner missing. It’s replaced again the next day, and neither of them say a word about it.

B is consistently the top student in his high school in all grades. He’s generally well-liked, though very shy, and doesn’t have many friends. His sister senses he’s afraid of getting attached to people because of his eyes, and feels sorry for him. She encourages him to join some sort of extracurricular program, saying he’d definitely have a better chance of getting into his dream schools if he was more involved.

B joins the drama club at school, and it helps him come out of his shell socially. At first he just volunteers as a stage hand, helping the actors with their costumes and their stage makeup, but eventually he works up the courage to audition for a play, too. He is a natural, and gets the lead part. B’s sister tries to help him practice his lines when she gets home from work, but she’s often too tired. She suggests that maybe he could invite some of the other cast members over to practice sometime, instead.

B invites only one other cast member over to practice; a very cute guy with long blond hair, leather pants, and a rosary around his neck. This guy seems to have been under the impression that there were other people coming too, and looks very uncomfortable about the whole situation. B’s sister feels the awkward vibes between them immediately and wants nothing more than to makes herself scarce, but she feels too bad for the guy to leave. She hangs around all night despite B’s pointed glares, and makes a pot of mushy, overcooked spaghetti for them all to share. The cute blond guy chokes it down politely and leaves as soon as he can, saying he just remembered he needs to go pick up his best friend Matt from work.

B’s school play goes very well, and the student newspaper reports his performance as the stand-out highlight of the whole thing. B tells his sister that maybe he’d prefer to move to Hollywood someday and pursue acting. She’s torn between encouraging him to follow his less practical dreams, and wishing he’d make something of his incredible smarts and aim for an ivy league school, instead. She decides to hold her tongue and let him decide on his own.

Eventually, B’s sister gets a nice boyfriend named Stephan Gevanni, and he moves in with them after a few months. He’s a sweetheart, and a very good cook, and he fills that hole in their home nicely by making delicious suppers every night. B is very blushingly awkward around Stephan, and hides in his room all the time, writing in his diary, obsessively reading manga, and listening to dramatic movie soundtracks on repeat. He gradually stops being embarrassed about his interest in makeup, as his time as a stage hand helps him feel more comfortable about it. Soon he’s wearing subtle eyeliner and foundation every day, and it looks very good on him. That cute blond guy he invited over even asked B for tips on how he pulls it off so well, he says with pride.

At some point, B comes home from school saying he’s just had the oddest day at school. He was pulled out of class all day for some very cryptic testing, which he was told was a standardized government thing. B didn’t believe for one minute that it was, but he couldn’t make sense of what else it could be, either. He said the test was the hardest thing he’d ever taken in his life, but that he had a lot of fun with it, too.

Two weeks later, B gets an elegantly embossed letter in the mail. He’s passed the cryptic testing with flying colours, and is one of the elite few finalists being invited to meet with a man who runs some of the most prestigious private schools in the country. The one they think B would make the best fit for is called Wammy’s House in England, which they would allow him to attend on full scholarship, no questions asked. B reads the letter out loud to his sister and Stephan over dinner with shaking hands, though he claims to find it silly and acts like he doesn’t care at all.

B’s sister thoroughly researches this school for the gifted, and finds she can figure out very little about it outside of the fact that it indeed exists. She’s extremely proud of B for being selected as a candidate, but her sharp intuition is giving her a very nasty feeling about it, nonetheless. She chooses to hold her tongue and see what B will choose, deciding she will whole-heartedly support his choice either way.

B decides after a lot of agonizing to politely reject the offer from the mysterious school, saying he’s finally feeling at home in his own skin for the first time in his life, and would miss his new friends at school too much. He said he needs some more time to figure himself out, first, no matter how flattering the school’s offer is. His sister breathes a secret sigh of relief, and she and Stephan makes B a lovely cake with strawberry filling for dessert that night, because they knows it’s his very favourite.

[hitosteyerlessay857]

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Before youngsters can write, they want to be able to learn—which is why good reading comprehension is such an essential skill to have. An avid author, speaker, musician and 5-time elementary faculty spelling bee winner, Shaundra is aware of the ins and outs of all issues content. When she isn’t managing projects for BKA, she’s both binging baking shows or pulling weeds in her garden. One sort of paper that most people have had to fastidiously measure when it comes to word counts is the white paper. In-depth white papers explaining intricate processes that relate to certain applied sciences or processes could must be pretty long to provide someone an excellent evaluation. Other white papers can get the purpose throughout using images in addition to textual content with out being as wordy. 500 words in a page or 1000 words in a page may be enough to get your points throughout, or it could not. 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How To Turn In A Custom Written Essay And Don'T Get Caught

How To Turn In A Custom Written Essay And Don'T Get Caught The customer ordering the services is not in any means approved to breed or copy both a completed paper or particular components of it without correct referencing. The Company is not accountable and will not report back to any third events because of unauthorized utilization of its works. If you want prompt and professional academic help - we've an unlimited array of services to supply. One type of web article that requires shut consideration to word depend is the SEO article. In these kinds of documents, key phrases are interspersed throughout the content to help search engines like google and yahoo find the kind of content that users are trying to find. This is not correct for tutorial papers with 1″ margins. My teacher advised me that I needed to write down an essay that had 2500 phrases. I received marks off for not writing an essay with exactly 2500 words. That’s utterly ridiculous however my teacher refuse to reinstate the purpose she took off as a result of she mentioned 2500 words and not 2498 words. Don’t panic, you probably did the math and it says that you are able to do this. If you had been good sufficient to argue with Maths, you actually wouldn’t have been in this situation within the first place. First issues first, you should not panic or stress as a result of these two things can severely hamper your productivity and that is something you just cannot afford proper now. Stressing can seriously block your mind and also you might simply find yourself exerting yourself much more and end up with the less passable output. Instead, loosen up, take a number of deep breaths, and after taking very little time to consider what you will write, begin writing. You want to ensure that whatever remaining time you could have, you dedicate to writing. You nonetheless have a shot, you simply need to take advantage of each minute that's left. Procrastination still exists because there are people who handle to procrastinate as much as attainable, and still find yourself completing the work earlier than the deadline, why? You have 5 hours to write down, 5000 words, after which you should be writing 1000 words per hour if you're ever going to be able to end it on time. And so as to write one thousand phrases per hour, you should be writing 16 to 17 phrases per minute, see that’s not hard at all. You just have to really give attention to the difficulty at hand and begin writing as quick you can. Remember your typing velocity is probably greater than 16 words per minute, so that you’ve obtained this. If you're employed together with your professor for several years and he knows your fashion, then he will reveal you in a twinkle of a watch. It can be higher should you add a couple of typical errors you at all times do or add a few phrases you usually use in your essays to make it look as if it was written by you. Writing fashion is sort of a mirror of the writer and your professor will never find it suspicious when discovering these mistakes in your paper. It may price you some points, but it is higher to get B then F and a dose of embarrassment. I gave them a deadline of ten days and paid extra for the 24/7 author assist, costing me a grand total of £sixty four.sixty three. Put some virtual blinders on and write your little heart out. Correcting an current essay is MUCH easier than writing an ideal essay from the gecko. Unlike the requirements in blog writing, press releases and white papers, net articles don’t have the identical commonplace formatting. How long 500 phrases is on an online page can differ tremendously. While net articles can be posted in commonplace formatting, they are more often whittled right down to make them look extra approachable. You’ll often discover internet pages which might be round 100 phrases, 200 words or 300 words in size. I informed them I had a deadline for a 1000-word draft deadline in 12 days time and could not be bothered to write down it. I was informed they might undoubtedly help with my needs. Yet, before I shelled out any of my hard-earned pupil debt, I needed more data. After a quick chat with a robotic, I discovered that 90 per cent of their writers come from the US and UK, with the remaining 10 per cent being native English audio system. Additionally, most of their writers are educated to a Masters or PhD stage of schooling. I might’ve simply said that my was 2500 phrases and she would’ve by no means recognized the distinction. I don’t understand why I’m being punished for being honest. Why is everything word count nowadays as an alternative of page rely? When I was at school once I was younger, all assignments were web page depend. Because when issues need to be accomplished, you go and do them as an alternative of sitting around fretting over them. If you are into on-line essay writing, you might be a bit too conversant in working too near the deadline and using smaller phrases to make a sentence longer to be able to improve the word depend. However, if you're a person new to procrastination and have somehow discovered yourself an evening away from the deadline with 5,000 words to write down, we’ve received some tips for you.