#Break the Science Barrier

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Break The Science Barrier : Why Science Matters - Richard Dawkins

Break the Science Barrier is a TV documentary that I presented on Channel 4 in 1996. It argues for the importance, for society, of scientific ways of thinking. In it, I interviewed David Attenborough, Alec Jeffreys, who discovered DNA fingerprinting, and Douglas Adams, who gave a wonderful impromptu eulogy for science. I also interviewed a man who was wrongly convicted of murder because none of the lawyers, on either side, knew anything about science. The program ends on a more positive note – what I later came to call Science in the Soul.

-

"Like most scientists, I'm a realist, but I'm also a bit of a romantic. I appreciate that there are people who think they need something more than science can offer. Something, frankly, undefinable. But I think science does offer all we need. Not just to understand the 'how' of life, with its great richness and complexity. For me, science goes as far as we meaningfully can go towards answering the 'why' as well."

[queka-store]

The Mosquito's Sting: A Tale of Boundaries Challenged

Once upon a time, in an enchanted kingdom, there was a mosquito that carried West Nile fever. This mosquito bit a wealthy man and a poor one, a Jew and an Arab, a white person and a black person, women and men, heterosexual cisgender and LGBTQ+ individuals. The story tells how people created protective barriers and divisions between themselves, but nature, in the form of the mosquito, pierced through these barriers and showed how easily something from each of them could seep into the other, revealing how arbitrary and temporary all these defenses and boundaries truly were.

The king of the kingdom ordered the mosquito to be locked in a golden cage and asked the wisest person in the kingdom, a little girl who understood the language of all animals, to talk to the mosquito. The girl listened to the mosquito's story and told the king the moral lesson that the mosquito had taught. Instead of punishing the mosquito, they made it an important minister in the kingdom. The royal physician healed the mosquito, and the kingdom's scientists transformed it into a beautiful prince.

The prince married the girl when she became old enough. She was the only one who saw the wisdom in the simple mosquito that had only come to sting. To everyone's surprise, as they did not know enough about science, it turned out that the mosquito was actually female. So, the wise girl ended up marrying a mosquito princess who loved to wear princes' clothes. The two of them lived happily ever after, a bit distanced from all other humans who were unwilling to give up the barriers and divisions that separated them.

When the people discovered that the mosquito was female and had married a woman, they wanted to punish her. However, the girl, who was once a wise child, ran away with the mosquito princess to the mountains. There, they lived happily, far from people's eyes and the fears that drove society. They listened to animals, studied life principles with them, trying to deeply understand their languages. Over the years, they published scientific papers that were meant to bring human society closer to their compassionate worldview, which looked broadly at life as one intertwined woven fabric.

[johnono]

man I would be such a valuable resource for Beatles historians but then again there's no way to verify the things I Know 😔

[thecreativemillennial]

I love how these 2 bonded. I know that some people get mad about the makeover scene and I understand why but I feel that it's important to look at what it symbolises rather than merely changing the goth girl. It was more of the fact that Alison was taking down barriers with her fellow breakfast club mates. Chances are she went back to dressing gothic again afterwards but she actually made friends and got a boyfriend in the process. Not because she stopped looking gothic but because she actually stopped allowing how she looked as a way to segregate herself from the rest of peers, which was literally what the movie was all about: 5 teenagers with little to nothing in common actually getting along and breaking down any previous social barriers that had previously existed amongst them

The Breakfast Club (1985)

[recsspecs]

“NOTHING IN LIFE IS TO BE FEARED. IT IS ONLY TO BE UNDERSTOOD.”

Marie Curie

"to be feared or to be understood?"

[salemlunaa]

✾˚•Time isn’t your enemy because it isn’t real∘˚✾

Stop trying to beat the clock, you’re getting nowhere

∘✾˚PART I | THE ALLEGED WASTE OF “TIME”

The same could also be said for circumstances because they also aren’t real. I understand your frustration; you want to induce now. You think you’ve wasted time and you want to manifest your dream life now.

𖦹˚∘“You’re scared of failing (you literally can’t fail a meditative state; this isn’t rocket science). You’re panicking because you swore to yourself you would induce pure consciousness over the break and live your dream life, and then you didn’t. *Loud heavy sigh* You can’t fail this, guys. It’s okay to be worried, but this isn’t something that just can never not work for you.” ∘˚𖦹

↑ quoted from my gorgeous girl @luvmanifesting

you need to realise that the fear of failure and wasting time here doesn’t make sense because you already have it, why would a mother cry because she “NEEDS to have a baby before the end of this year”, if she’s holding the baby in her arms? if it’s right infront of her?

✾˚٭EXPLANATION | WHAT TIME IS TO US

You guys are growing desperate because you have given yourself a time crunch, and that’s where you go wrong. Your outer man (you in the 3D) will experience the 3D and time, but your inner man can’t experience these things. Your naked self is your inner man. The entire concept of the void state is that it is just your inner man alone, with no power of the 3D or time. This is why you are able to set ANY intention, because the barriers of time and the 3D are nonexistent. This is why you can choose to go back in time (being able to manipulate time = time isn’t real), and you can choose to manifest a pink elephant plushie on your bed (manipulating the 3D = time isn’t real). You are your inner man viewing the world from your outer man, but you can align them together.

܀˚✾PART II | BYE BYE TIMECRUNCHES!

And I’ll tell you now, if you don’t align yourself with your inner man and realize you have it now, you’re NEVER going to get it.

“but i NEED to manifest my dream life before school”

“circumstances are tough and i NEED to induce pure consciousness and leave this reality before exams”

“i hate my job i NEED to induce before the end of this year”

No, no, no. Stop playing this game of racing against time. IT ISN’T A REAL THING. I don’t care what’s happening tomorrow, I DON'T CARE what’s happening in two days, I DON'T CARE what’s happening next week, next month, or in a year, and neither should you. If you are giving yourself a time crunch, you don’t understand what it means to be pure consciousness. If you have told yourself that you ABSOLUTELY MUST induce before a certain time, you don’t understand what it means to be pure consciousness.

I DON'T CARE if your back is against the wall and you’re drowning in unfavorable circumstances—stop valuing time and stop valuing the 3D. If you don’t accept it now, it will NEVER come. Because the time is now; you are only experiencing now. It’s like the riddle: “What says it’s coming but never does? Tomorrow.” Because the “tomorrow” you speak of will be called “today” when you experience it. So you are always experiencing the now. You must accept it now.

Say Bye Bye to time crunches, because they don’t exist for a god because time isn’t a thing to your inner man. When you think of something, I don’t care if it’s a penny or fairy wings—you have it. When you want to be pure consciousness, because of that want, you have it. You have your dream life.

˚✾∘˚PART III | THE TIME IS NOW, NOT YOUR ENEMY

Time is not your enemy, because your inner man is god → your inner man manifests → time doesn’t exist to your inner man = therefore everything is happening all at once (and when i mean everything I don’t mean intrusive thoughts) So when you want to induce pure consciousness, know that it is instant, effortless and already done. I don’t care if the 3d has failed you, if your outer man has slept while trying to induce, you have everything you could possibly want.

Trying to win a race against something that is non existent is allowing your outer man to waste even more “time”. So stop this in 2025, I DON'T CARE if school is starting next week, if exams are starting next month, if you NEED to do this by the end of this year, if you spend time trying to beat the clock, you’ll end up with nothing. You have it now, the time is now and always will be.

Kill those thoughts before they come up.

OUTER MAN: “I have this pit in my stomach when I think about resuming school and all the circumstances that come with it, I should have manifested my dream life”

INNER MAN: “I have manifested my dream life already, i don’t care what the 3d is showing me”

OUTER MAN: “I was supposed to manifest my dream life over the break, now i’ve got to see all those people I hate”

INNER MAN: “They don’t exists and neither do my circumstances”

OUTER MAN: “ I NEED TO MANIFEST MY DREAM BOD BEFORE SUMMER, it’s so long away but i always manage to waste time”

INNER MAN: Huh, what’s time? I am everything, therefore i have everything I want now

NO deadlines, NO due date, NO time limit, closing time, ultimatum, NO NO NO, not for a god, not when you literally have it now

🪼🐅 stop creating deadlines for yourself, you’re a god who doesn’t need them.

you have it now!!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

can you please please write season 1-2 Spencer and readers first time and he’s like nervous about not satisfying her but in the end he does 😅😅😊

i don’t write smut (on this account at least) so it’ll just be the aftermath of their evening. i like to keep this page more pg-13 so i know anyone can be here, it’s gonna be a bit suggestive below cut.

fem!reader (1.5K celebration)

the bedroom was quiet, only heavy panting and fabric rustling filled your ears. the soft cotton of spencer’s bedding covered your naked chest as you stared at his smooth ceiling, letting your mind wonder back to reality.

you turned your head to the left, pillow flattening with the motion, a lavender haze bathing spencer’s profile. his pale chest was tinted in a gentle pink as it moved up and down with his breaths, his neck and cheeks a bit darker in flush. strands of his short hair clung to the sweat on his forehead, the curled ends hugging the bottom of his ears.

you noted how one hand rested over his covered stomach, his fingers curling and uncurling. he let his tongue wet his lips. you shifted your body to lay on your side and it caused spencer to look your way, his eyes pin balling about.

“hi,” a small whisper to not break this serine moment. spencer’s lips twitched at the corner, “how you feeling?” he copied your new position, one arm tucked under his pillow with the other sitting in the open middle of your bodies.

you bit into your bottom lip for a moment as you searched for the right word. you settled for, “very loved. blown away those other horrible times, finishing after a minute and not caring about me.” moving a hand to spencer’s you linked your fingers together, your thumb rubbing softly at the side of his palm.

“it was good, right?” spencer questioning after you said the experience was better than past ones. he had that crease in the middle of his brows, you smoothed it away with the pad of your thumb, “of course.”

“you- you didn’t fake… anything?” his voice went up a pitch. it cracked your heart to think spencer wasn’t practiced in bed, well technically he wasn’t, said you were his first girlfriend and first everything.

you pushed off your side and shuffled to spencer so you could throw you legs over his waist, straddling him naked with only his burgundy sheets keeping a barrier. you toyed with his arms so his palms could mold to the shape of your waist, his long fingers spreading a warmth into you.

“spencer reid, i would never fake anything with you. i’d only pull that trick if i wasn’t feeling into it after a few minutes and wanted it to be over.” his thumbs rubbed at the side of your stomach, “but i wanted to enjoy every second with you. i wanted you to feel good just as much while you made me feel good.”

you let your hands slide over his chest, fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone or letting your pointer drag over his sensitive nipples causing him to shudder a breath. you leaned into him, your breast resting on his skin as you let your lips trail a line of kisses over his jawline. “i could enjoy you all day if possible. i just want to be skin to skin with you, feel every inch.”

spencer’s hold tightened and it caused a surprised moan to slip from your lips, his legs shifting and you can feel something else growing. “we- we could test that out. if- if you’re-“

your lips crashed to his causing the sentence to fall off. you’d be happy to test your theory for the day, after all spencer is a man of science.

[kirammanswifey]

Hii, I read your pt 1 n 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their s/o

Would you be able to hurt us(me) even more? Like they took too long to get us back that R already move on with someone better

Pretty pretty please🥺?

what if you never reconciled with arcane's characters after the breakup x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i loved the person who asked me to do this because i had thought about doing it but i didn't know if you guys wanted to read more of this but i guess we'll are masochist. so i ended up depressed after writing this, and that's saying a lot for a psychology student, the one i found the saddest and the hardest to write was jinx's, i love writing sad things but it's already too much suffering, later I'll come up with something lighter and nicer. as you guys know, requests are open ;)

break up link:

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The auditorium filled with applause as you finished your presentation. The project you had worked tirelessly on was finally being recognized. You felt proud, but also empty, as if something important was missing. As you looked up, you saw him. Viktor, at the back of the room, trying to go unnoticed, almost ready to leave.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It had been two months since the breakup, two months of complete silence. Without thinking, you called his name. "Viktor."

He stopped, turning slowly toward you. The auditorium's light accentuated the paleness of his face, his sunken eyes, and his thin body seemed even more fragile. Concern washed over you instantly, but you held back the urge to approach and ask what was happening to him.

"How are you? How have things been going?" you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm you were trying to project.

"Fine." His response was cold, distant, almost mechanical. "The lab is progressing. The projects are going as expected."

Each word of his was a dagger, his formality making you feel like a stranger, as if you had never been part of his life. The lump in your throat grew, but you forced yourself to continue. You couldn't leave things like this.

"Why didn’t you reach out, Viktor? Do you still feel the same?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, fearing the answer but needing to hear it.

Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, I still feel the same. What I’m doing is bigger than us. I can't afford distractions."

His voice was firm, but you could sense the slight hesitation, the pain he was trying to hide. Despite that, it hurt more than you expected. You nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, though it broke your heart.

"Thank you for coming," you said coldly, matching the distance he had put between you. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."

You turned around, ready to leave before the tears betrayed your façade. But as you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, almost as if he was waiting for something more, something you weren’t willing to give.

Viktor stood there, motionless, internally conflicted. In his mind, every memory with you fought against his convictions. He wanted to approach, to risk a second chance, to ask you to come back. The thought of losing you forever was suffocating him, but he also feared that his illness, his obsession with science, was too much for you to bear.

Finally, he decided to take that step, to approach you, to break the barrier he had built himself. But by the time he gathered the courage, it was too late. You had been intercepted by a colleague, a man who radiated health and vitality, someone who made you smile in a way Viktor couldn’t remember seeing for a long time.

From afar, Viktor watched, his heart breaking as he saw how the man made you laugh, how he looked at you with admiration. In that moment, he understood something he had always feared: you deserved someone better than him, someone who could be completely with you without the chains of science and illness.

He decided to leave, convinced that intervening would only cause you more pain. He didn’t know that as he walked away, you were watching him from afar, with a broken heart, wishing he had fought for you, even just a little more.

Jinx

Days passed after that heartbreaking farewell. The memories piled up in your mind, like broken pieces of a puzzle you could never put back together. Jinx's absence was a crushing weight, leaving you breathless, powerless. Her laughter, her mischief, her uncontrollable chaos... all had disappeared, and in their place, only an unbearable void remained.

One afternoon, as the rain furiously pounded against the windows and the sky was draped in gray, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew exactly where to find her. On somber days, Jinx always sought refuge at the cliff, a place where the world seemed to end and the abyss opened before her like an invitation.

You ran through the rain, feeling each drop like needles on your skin, every step filled with a desperation that was suffocating you. When you reached the cliff, your heart stopped. Jinx wasn’t sitting, as she usually did, lost in her thoughts. She was standing, at the edge of the abyss, her slender figure barely visible in the mist.

But before you could take another step, she jumped.

The scream that tore from your throat was heart-wrenching, an echo lost in the wind. You ran to the edge, but what you saw below froze your blood. Jinx lay on the rocks, her body shattered by the fall, motionless, lifeless. The sight left you petrified, unable to move, unable to breathe.

The days that followed were torment. Guilt consumed you. What if you had arrived earlier? What if you had said something different? What if you had hugged her tighter? The questions haunted you, whispering in your ear that it was all your fault, that you hadn’t done enough to save her.

You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You just returned to that cliff over and over again, hoping to find answers in the void Jinx had left. But all you found was more silence, more loneliness.

One night, when the moon barely peeked through the clouds, the weight became unbearable. You couldn’t go on without her. You decided it was time to join Jinx, to follow her steps into the abyss. You walked to the edge, feeling the cold wind on your skin, and looked down at the place where your love had met its end.

Then, a vision stopped you. Jinx appeared before you, but not like the last time. She was smiling, her gaze sweet and mischievous, like when she used to laugh at your jokes or drag you into her chaotic adventures. "Don't be sad, sugar," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

Her words, though you knew they were just a hallucination, filled you with a strange comfort. You smiled, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm going to be with you," you promised her. And without thinking further, you leapt into the abyss, letting the darkness take you, driven by the desire to be with Jinx once more.

Upon impact, everything became silence. But in that silence, there was something more. A whisper, an echo of eternal love.

In every universe, in every possible existence, you two would always be together. Even in death, even in the void. Because your love was that strong, that eternal.

Vi

Vi had spent two years engulfed in a darkness she couldn’t escape. After you left her, everything became a whirlwind of underground fights and empty bottles. Each punch she took, each night spent alone in the darkest corners of Zaun, made her think of you, of what she had lost. In her mind, she was always sure you would come back for her, that your love for her would be strong enough to forgive her. But days turned into weeks, then into months, and eventually, years. And you never came back.

One day, a job brought her to Piltover. A corrupt politician had paid her to "teach a lesson" to someone who owed him money. The money was enough for Vi to accept without asking questions. She was walking through the gleaming streets of the city when her body collided with someone else's.

“Sorry,” she said automatically, but when she looked up, she was left breathless. It was you. More radiant than ever, with a presence that seemed to light up even the cold stone of Piltover. Vi couldn’t help herself, she hugged you tightly as if her life depended on it. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into your hair. But her world stopped when she didn’t feel your arms returning the embrace. Instead, your body was stiff, distant.

You gently pulled away, but your gaze was like a dagger. “What’s wrong?” Vi asked, her voice trembling with confusion and the pain now flooding her. “Why are you treating me like this?”

Your expression hardened, and your words were cold, sharp as steel. “Do you really expect me to welcome you with open arms after what you did? After what you said?” Your eyes burned with a fire Vi didn’t recognize, a fire from someone who had suffered and changed. “You left me, Violet. You said things that broke me. And now, after two years, you expect me to greet you like nothing happened?”

Vi tried to respond, but the words died in her throat. There weren’t enough excuses to explain what she had done.

You continued, not giving her a moment to breathe. “Things changed when you left, Violet.” You raised your hand, showing a ring that gleamed under the sunlight. “My parents married me off to someone from the Council. At first, I thought it would be the end of the world, that I’d never get over it. But now… now I’m happy.” You paused, letting your words sink into Vi like a slow-acting poison. “I have a family. I have stability. And I’m happy. With you, Violet, I would never have had that.”

Vi looked at you, unsure of what to do, what to say. In her mind, you were still the person who loved her, but now, standing before her, you had transformed into someone completely different.

At that moment, a man approached. Tall, in his thirties, with a well-groomed beard, and in his arms, a small child with a smile Vi instantly recognized as yours. The man kissed you on the cheek and then handed you the child. Your face lit up with love as you held him.

“Sweetheart, did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked, glancing at Vi with curiosity. “Is she a friend of yours?”

Vi felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You looked back at her, but now, your eyes were just cold reflections of the past. “No,” you said with a tone that cut Vi to the core. “Just someone I used to know.”

Without another word, you turned away, the man beside you, the child in your arms, and the three of you walked off, a perfect picture of the happiness Vi had always dreamed of but could never achieve.

Vi stood there, motionless, in the middle of the street, as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Her entire world crumbled in that instant. Everything she had believed, everything she had hoped for, was gone. And now she knew she would live with regret for the rest of her life.

Caitlyn

The trial was a brutal display of coldness. You stood there, in the center, surrounded by the faces of Piltover who had once respected you. But now, you were nothing more than a traitor to them. Your hands were cuffed behind your back, your gaze fixed on Caitlyn, waiting... begging for her to say something, to defend you, to plead on your behalf. But she remained silent, rigid, her expression unyielding. The façade of the perfect enforcer intact, as you crumbled.

As you left the court, the cold air hit you harder than the judges' words. Caitlyn approached the guards, requesting to personally escort you to the edge of exile. Your eyes met hers, seeking answers, some sign that there was still something between you.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice breaking.

Caitlyn looked at you, her face colder than ever. "I did what I had to do," she said with a hardness that made you shiver. "If you had done the same, you wouldn't be in this situation."

There were no more words. No goodbyes. Just a chasm that opened between you, killing everything that had ever existed.

A year later, Piltover was burning in chaos. Zaun's gangsters had unleashed a revolt, and Caitlyn, always the leader, was on the front lines. The battle roared around her, but she didn't see the attacker coming until it was too late. The blade of a knife gleamed in the air, aimed at her, until a precise shot stopped the assailant.

Caitlyn turned, her rifle pointed at her supposed savior. "Back off," she ordered firmly, though her heart was racing.

The figure in front of her removed the owl mask, revealing a face that took her breath away.

"You're still an exceptional shooter, Cait," you said with a sad smile, your voice laden with painful nostalgia.

The chaos had ceased, the silence weighed between you. Caitlyn didn't understand how everything had ended so quickly, how her men had been immobilized. Her eyes filled with questions, and you, with a flash of understanding, gave her the answer before she could formulate it.

"It was us."

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Us?"

You laughed, a sound that carried both sadness and resignation. "I'm part of the Firelights. We heard about the revolt and came to the rescue. We don't want more trouble between Piltover and Zaun, so we stopped it to avoid reprisals."

Caitlyn's eyes widened, recognizing the rebel group that had caused so many headaches for the Enforcers.

"They took me in when I was exiled to Zaun," you continued with a touch of sadness. "They're my family now."

Caitlyn stepped forward, regret etching her face. "I... I missed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I regret not defending you."

But before she could say more, a figure riding a hoverboard approached. Wearing a mask similar to yours, his dark skin and white hair gave him away: Ekko, the leader of the Firelights.

"All clear. Let's go, babe," he said, extending a hand to you. Then, he cast a sarcastic glance at Caitlyn. "Looks like the Enforcers don't know how to do their job anymore."

Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but you playfully smacked Ekko on the head. "Don't be cheeky," you chided, but the boy just smiled and kissed you tenderly.

Caitlyn froze, watching the scene with disbelief and pain. Seeing the love of her life with someone else was an agony she wasn't prepared to face.

You climbed onto the board with Ekko, but before leaving, you turned to Caitlyn. "I hope you can find happiness someday, Cait," you said softly, your words a reminder that sometimes justice isn't enough to fill the void in the soul.

And with that, you vanished into the air, laughing with Ekko, leaving Caitlyn alone, shattered. She stood there, staring at the spot where you'd disappeared, the regret devouring her inside. But she didn't allow herself to feel more. She had a mess to clean up and a report to deliver. There was no room for pain now, and that would always be her greatest flaw.

Jayce

It had been five months since the last time you saw Jayce, five months since that painful goodbye that had left your heart in pieces. But you didn't allow yourself to stay in that state. You channeled your pain into ambition, into a fierce determination to prove your worth beyond being "Jayce Talis' partner." You joined the world of politics, and against all odds, you managed to gain acceptance into the Council of Piltover.

The news of your rise had spread to every corner of the city, but Jayce, absorbed in his work with Hextech technology and his duties as a Council member, hadn't noticed your progress until that day.

The first Council meeting with your presence was a revelation. All the members praised you, impressed by your intellect and the innovative plans you had proposed for the city. But Jayce heard none of that. His attention was completely captured by you.

You looked different. Your hair, which you used to wear long and dark, was now short and dyed a vibrant coral red. The clothes you wore were more revealing, showing a confidence in yourself he had never seen before. It was as if you were a completely new person, someone who no longer depended on anyone's shadow.

When the meeting ended, Jayce approached you with his characteristic smile, the one that used to melt your heart. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said with a mix of surprise and admiration. "It seems a lot has changed."

You returned his smile, but there was a touch of disdain in your eyes. "Yes, many things changed in my life when you left, Jayce. Everything got better," you said firmly. "I focused on my career and made a name for myself in Piltover for my skills and intelligence. I'm no longer recognized as Jayce Talis' partner. I'm no longer the pretty doll you used to take to those fancy parties."

Jayce frowned, his expression turning serious. "I never treated you like an object," he replied defensively. "That was always a misunderstanding. I just took care of you and gave you everything you wanted."

You shook your head slowly, your gaze steady on his. "No, Jayce. You clipped my wings. You didn’t let me be who I really am. And I'm so happy you left me because now I’m enjoying life, and I love who I am."

Jayce opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him. "There's talk that you have a relationship with Mel Medarda."

The surprise on his face was evident, but he quickly denied it, his tone defensive. "Of course not. We're just partners."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "More like master and slave. It’s pathetic to see how you let yourself be influenced and manipulated by someone else. The Jayce I knew, the one I once loved, would never have allowed that."

Jayce barely heard the reproach. His attention was caught by your words. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked, his voice hurt and low.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his with brutal sincerity. "No, Jayce. I don’t. I’ve moved on from you."

Jayce was left speechless, the emotional blow visible on his face. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy for you to forget him, especially when he hadn’t forgotten you.

Before you left, you stepped a little closer, your voice soft but firm. "And you know what the best part is, Jayce? I didn’t need to hook up with anyone else to do it. I got over you when I learned to focus on myself and my needs. You should do the same."

Without waiting for a response, you turned around and walked away, leaving Jayce there, paralyzed by the weight of your words. It was as if you had slapped him, leaving him breathless, not knowing how to recover from that loss. Because you would be a loss that would hurt him for the rest of his life.

Ekko

Months have passed since that last conversation that ended your relationship. Since then, Zaun has changed, and so have you. You've learned to live without Ekko, though the void he left still hurts. Fate, however, seems determined to cross your paths again. And it is on a rainy night, in an alley you used to walk together, that you meet once more.

Ekko is there, under the dim light of a streetlamp, his silhouette wet from the rain but heavier with guilt. He sees you approach, and something inside him breaks. Time hasn't healed his wounds, only made them deeper.

"I didn’t think I’d see you here again," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible beneath the sound of the rain.

Your heart races at the sight of him, but you stay firm. "I didn’t think I’d see you again either."

Ekko's eyes scan you, searching for something to give him strength to speak. "How have you been?" he asks, knowing that any answer will be insufficient for the pain he caused.

"I managed," you reply coldly. "And you? Doesn’t Zaun need you anymore?"

Ekko lowers his gaze, ashamed. "Zaun will always need me, but... I've been thinking a lot about us. About what I did, about what I said."

"And have you reached any conclusions?" you ask, keeping your tone distant.

"That I was wrong," he admits, his voice breaking. "That each day without you weighs more on me. That I let you go out of fear, out of responsibility... but I never stopped loving you."

His confession hits you, but it’s not enough to erase the pain. "Ekko, you made your choice. You chose Zaun over us."

"I know," he says, taking a step closer but not daring to move further. "And I regret it. If I could go back, I would. But I can’t. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that I miss you... that every day I regret more what I lost."

Silence takes over the moment. The rain continues to fall, cold and relentless, like the fate you both share. You look at Ekko, and for a moment, the love you still feel battles against the resentment.

"Ekko, love isn’t enough when it becomes a burden. I can’t go back to that, I can’t be your second place again," you say, trying to maintain your composure.

"I know," he replies, his voice barely a whisper. "But I wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t fix it, even if I can’t win you back, you’ll always be a part of me."

"And you of me," you admit, finally letting the tears you’ve held back fall. "But it’s too late, Ekko. Too late for us."

Reality sets in, and both of you know it. Without words, you look at each other one last time, each trying to engrave that moment in memory. Finally, you turn away, leaving Ekko alone, with the rain as his only company.

As you walk away, something inside you stops you, as if there are still words left to say. You turn slowly, facing Ekko once more, with the rain falling between you like a curtain of memories and pain.

"Do you remember what you told me the last time we talked?" you ask, your voice trembling but firm. "You said that sometimes there are battles not worth fighting because you know you’ll never win them."

Ekko nods, the weight of his own words reflected in his tired eyes. "Yes, I remember. And I regret saying it."

"Don’t regret it," you say, a bitter smile forming on your lips. "Because you were right. This... us... we were one of those battles. I fought for you, for us, but in the end, we couldn’t win. We couldn’t be what we needed for each other."

Ekko closes his eyes, the pain in his chest intensifying. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted you to lose faith in us."

"Faith wasn’t enough," you reply, your words cutting like a knife. "Not when the battle was lost from the start."

Silence takes over once more, each word a reminder of what was and will never be. Finally, you step back, moving away from Ekko and everything he represents.

"Goodbye, Ekko," you whisper, letting the rain wash away the last tears falling down your cheeks.

Ekko watches you leave, knowing those words will be the last you share. And as you disappear into the distance, his own regret consumes him, leaving him alone with the weight of a battle he should never have abandoned.

Silco

The lights flickered weakly in the brothel of the Undercity, as voices mingled with the clamor of incessant activity. Silco moved through the shadows, his presence as imposing as ever, closing a deal with one of his associates. Everything was going according to plan until his gaze stopped in a dark corner, and he saw you.

You were there, your makeup smeared, and your provocative clothing accentuating the marks of injuries that covered your skin. Silco felt a dry blow in his chest, a combination of anger and suffocating guilt. He couldn’t help but approach you, his hand gripping your arm firmly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh voice, each word laden with tension he couldn’t hide.

You looked up, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and latent hatred, but a bitter smile formed on your lips. "I'm exactly where I should be, Silco. I should never have left this place in the first place."

Silco narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening even more. "Don’t give me evasions. I want the truth."

You sighed deeply, letting the facade fall. Your eyes locked onto his, this time without a trace of the smile. "You want the truth? Very well." Your voice was a whisper laced with pain. "When you decided to abandon me, many started hunting me. I survived some attacks, others I didn’t." Slowly, you brushed your hair aside, revealing the patch over your left eye. "They tore it out. And, like everything in this damn place, they sold it to the highest bidder. Some found it exciting to have the eye of Silco's former 'bitch.'"

The rawness of your words left him immobile. The trauma soaked every syllable, and the guilt Silco felt grew like an oppressive shadow. "I had no one to protect me, no place to go. This brothel was my last refuge. So here I am, back in the only place I should never have left. And surprisingly, I'm doing well. You’d be surprised at what they're willing to pay for an encounter with what once belonged to you."

Silco couldn’t bear the self-degradation in your voice. "I’m going to get you out of here," he said firmly. "I’ll pay whatever it takes and bring you back home."

He leaned in to hug you, but you pushed him away with a scornful gesture. "What’s the matter, Silco? Tired of your new acquisition already? Miss having me under your control, like your personal trophy?" Your voice was lethal poison. "Keep your promises. I’m not going back with you. You taught me that love is an illusion, a mirage that only serves to mask hatred and danger. And sadly, I’m surrounded by both."

Silco swallowed, his facade beginning to crack. "Please," he insisted, his voice tinged with an unusual tremor. "Let me fix this. Let me help you."

But you had already walked away, heading toward an exotic-looking man waiting for you in a corner. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to work."

Without giving him another glance, you left, leaving Silco alone, trapped in a whirlwind of regret and pain. In his attempt to protect you, it was he who had condemned you to this life, and now the weight of his decisions crushed him, plunging him into a darkness even he could not master.

Mel

It was an ordinary day when, upon opening your front door, you found Mel standing there, her eyes red from crying, her face filled with a despair so profound it moved you. Her posture, hunched and fragile, spoke more than any words could. Before you could say anything, she threw herself at you, seeking comfort as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant.

Words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, like a torrent of repressed emotions finally finding an outlet. "I’ve done it... I’ve done everything wrong... I don’t want to lose you. I can’t... please, don’t leave me. I need us to be together again. I can’t live with this lie. I love you, I love you, I’m begging you."

You held her in your arms, feeling her trembling body against yours, a refuge against the internal storm consuming her. You clung to her, hoping that all that had been broken between you could be repaired, but then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the stillness of that moment.

"Sorry to interrupt," said a familiar female voice, with a tone that shook you. Caitlyn Kiramman appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, wearing a white shirt, almost translucent, that Mel recognized instantly. A shiver ran through her as she saw that the shirt belonged to you. Caitlyn smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but serene. "I’ll wait for you in the room," she said calmly before retreating into the house.

Mel, paralyzed, looked at you in disbelief, her anger beginning to awaken. "Seriously?" Her voice broke with disdain, but there was a contained fury in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. "Caitlyn Kiramman? You couldn’t find a better replacement for me? Seriously?"

You stared at her for a moment before responding with a calmness that only masked the truth behind your words. "No, Mel, I’m not looking for replacements. Caitlyn isn’t here to fill any voids; she’s here for a good time. And let me tell you, she’s done an excellent job at that."

Mel clenched her fists, her face turning red with rage, frustration taking over her. "How could you? Did you cheat on me? With her? After everything we’ve been through?" Her words were sharp, like knives, and her pain became more evident with each passing second.

You remained serene, though something inside you was breaking. "What did you want me to do, Mel? Sit in a corner, crying in a bubble of self-pity, like you probably did all this time? No, Mel, I couldn’t just sit and wait for something to change. Life is too short to keep waiting for the impossible."

Mel’s words came out as a sigh of disappointment. "I’m so disappointed in you," she said, her voice trembling from the impact of your words.

You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on your chest. "What we were living wasn’t real, Mel. It wasn’t enough for you, and it wasn’t enough for me either. You’ve been living in your mother’s shadow this whole time, looking for something you’ll never find. I can’t keep waiting for you to understand that. You got stuck in your world, and in the meantime, I moved on. I’m not going to apologize for that."

Mel, in tears, tried to get closer, a desperate attempt to capture what was already gone. She tried to kiss you, but you stopped her with unyielding firmness. "Mel," you said with a clear, firm voice. "Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself."

She fell to her knees, her face overflowing with pain. "I beg you... please, come back to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life. I need you, I can’t live without you." Her sobs were heart-wrenching, like a child lost in a cruel world.

You looked at her for a long moment, your heart heavy, but the words that came from your lips were inevitable. "And why didn’t you take care of me, Mel? Why did you let me go so easily? If you really loved me, why did you abandon me? Why did you let me face all of this alone?"

Mel didn’t know what to say. She stayed there, her mouth open, unable to offer any justification. She only murmured one last "I love you" in an almost inaudible whisper.

You sighed deeply, the weight of reality crushing you, and you gently lifted her from the ground, guiding her to the door. "Goodbye, Mel. I hope you can sort things out with your mother. I can’t keep being part of this battle."

The door closed with a dull thud, and it wasn’t just the door to your house that was closing, but also the door to your heart. There was nothing more to do. It was time to let go.

Sevika

The night was shrouded in a dense mist, and the bar buzzed with a mix of laughter, muffled conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled with liquid oblivion. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of tobacco, spilled alcohol, and sweat—a temporary refuge for broken souls. Sevika pushed the bar door open, stumbling slightly, her unsteady steps reflecting the state of her soul. Her dark, glassy eyes scanned the place with a mix of desperation and anxiety, seeking to drown the loneliness that pursued her like a relentless shadow.

When her eyes landed on the bar, her heart stopped for a moment that seemed eternal. There you were, behind the counter, moving with the professional grace of someone who had learned to hide pain behind a mask of indifference. Sevika felt the ground beneath her feet grow unstable, as if the earth itself was rebelling against her presence. She approached slowly, as if each step brought her closer to an abyss she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.

When she reached the bar, she leaned on the counter with both hands, leaning toward you. Your gaze was a mix of surprise and something colder, something that made her shiver more than any strong drink.

"What do you want to drink?" you asked in a professional, restrained voice, your eyes barely shifting in her direction.

Sevika looked at you, desperately searching for any trace of the warmth you used to have. "I’ve missed you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper before a knot in her throat broke it. "I’m sorry... God, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us."

She took your hands with unusual clumsiness, kissing them repeatedly as her words fell like broken laments. "I’ve been alone, so alone that I looked for others to forget you, but it didn’t work. No one can make me forget you. Please, give me another chance."

You sighed, and with a calculated gesture, called another colleague to replace you, leading her outside to the back alley. You lit a cigarette calmly, offering her one that she accepted in silence. Both of you smoked, the smoke forming an almost tangible barrier between you.

The silence was finally broken by a question that escaped as a rough whisper from her lips: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

You finished smoking, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot before facing her directly. "What do you want me to say, Sevika?" Your voice was low, but each word was a dart piercing Sevika's chest.

She frowned, surprised by the coldness in your tone. "I don’t know, something. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a fool."

"Why do you feel like a fool?" you asked, crossing your arms, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Sevika gritted her teeth, her fury beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Because I confessed my feelings to you, told you everything I went through, and it seems like you don’t give a damn."

You nodded, as if slowly processing her words before responding with icy calm. "And did you care when you left me? Did you think about how your decision would affect me? Did you think about anyone other than yourself?"

Her words caught in her throat, and for the first time, Sevika didn’t know what to say. Your smile was bitter, triumphant. "Of course not. You’re a selfish person, Sevika. You walked in here by chance, and upon seeing me, suddenly you miss me and want everything back. Well, I’m not buying that crap."

"It’s not like that," she denied desperately. "I miss you, really. I care about you."

Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You made your decision, and you have no right to ask me for anything after what you did to me."

Sevika tried to interrupt, but you cut her off sharply. "My break is over. Don’t drink anymore tonight. You’re talking nonsense." And with that, you went back inside, leaving her there, alone in the darkness.

Sevika stayed in the alley, staring at the door that closed behind you, while rage and sadness fused into a silent scream. She punched the wall hard, letting the physical pain try to drown out the torment she felt inside. But deep down, she knew that punch wasn’t enough to erase what she had lost, nor to heal what she had destroyed.

[little-jana]

"A Calculated Risk"

Part 1 - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing

Words: 750

Summary: Spencer teaches reader some important facts about germs.

The case had been exhausting, stretching long into the night. We were both tired, yet somehow, the fatigue seemed to have pushed us closer rather than further apart. As we sat in the dimly lit conference room, reviewing the final details of the case before wrapping up, there was an unexpected quietness between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a silence that hung with a sense of anticipation, like the calm before a storm.

Spencer had been unusually still, his focus on the case file in front of him, but his eyes kept flicking to me, as though he was measuring something, searching for the right words—or perhaps the courage. I couldn’t deny that I was feeling the same pull, a growing tension in the air that wasn’t about the case at all.

I noticed how his fingers nervously tapped against the table, a subconscious gesture that I knew too well. He was overthinking, just like always. I wanted to say something to ease the quiet, to break the barrier between us that felt so fragile, yet so significant.

But before I could speak, he did.

“Do you ever think about... the possibility of... transmitting germs while kissing?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure why he’d even brought it up. His eyes were wide, earnest, and his usual shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

I couldn’t help but smile back, despite the absurdity of the question. Spencer had always had a unique way of turning even the most intimate moments into something logical, something quantifiable. “You mean, like the exchange of bacteria?” I asked, playing along, though my heart was racing.

“Exactly,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his face flushed with the slightest hint of embarrassment. “Studies show that the human mouth contains over 700 types of bacteria, many of which can be transferred during... close contact. I mean, statistically speaking, it’s a significant risk.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing, but there was something so endearing about his scientific approach to something so inherently emotional. Spencer Reid was a brilliant man, but in this moment, I could see the nervous, vulnerable side of him—the side that didn’t quite know how to navigate emotions, especially when it came to something like kissing.

“Spencer,” I said softly, my voice quiet but warm, “sometimes... it’s okay to let go of the facts. You don’t always need to calculate everything. Some things, like this...,” I reached out, gently touching his hand on the table, “can’t be explained by science.”

His gaze shifted to my hand, and I could see the realization flicker in his eyes. I watched as his breath hitched ever so slightly, his usually composed demeanor faltering for just a moment. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the words seemed to escape him. Instead, he leaned forward, just enough to close the distance between us.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the warmth of his presence enveloping me. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in that shared space, that fragile moment. Without another word, I leaned in, my lips brushing against his in the softest, most tentative kiss.

It was gentle at first—almost shy—like he was still processing the idea, as if he needed to test the waters before fully giving in to the feeling. But then, something shifted. Spencer’s lips responded with a tenderness that took me by surprise, a deep warmth that spoke volumes, even without words.

As we pulled apart, I could see the flush on his cheeks, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and awe, as though he couldn’t believe it had happened. I could feel the smile tugging at my own lips as I gazed at him.

“Well,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically breathless, “I suppose the risk of bacterial transmission just became... a little more bearable.”

I laughed softly, unable to resist his quirky charm. “You’re impossible,” I teased, but my voice was filled with affection.

Spencer, still clearly processing, looked down at the table for a moment, as though his brain was catching up to his heart. Then, he looked up at me with that trademark shy smile, the one I’d come to love more than I could admit.

“I’m... glad we did that,” he said, almost shyly, like he couldn’t believe it himself.

I reached for his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “Me too,” I whispered, my heart still racing from the kiss, and I had the overwhelming sense that this was just the beginning of something much bigger between us.

Part 3

[theflashjaygarrick]

People have spent so much time fleshing out random background male characters and so for feminism I am going to give one of DC's under appreciated female characters this treatment . I am absolutely fascinated by Joan Garrick as a character. DC is not. But who am I to let that stop me.

So what are some things we know about Joan Garrick (née Williams). One is that she met Jay Garrick when they were both students at college. More potential context was given by Millar and Morrison in the iconic Jay focused Flash (vol 2) #134. Here we learn that at the present time she is teaching microbiology and based on the fact that in my experience a specific microbiology subject is more common in university and she's heading in for specific classes not the school day I can infer she is a lecturer/professor. These few facts paint a picture of an awesome and boundary breaking woman in her own right.

We can assume she was in college in the 1930s. This makes sense. After all the 30s was the first generation where (almost entirely white and middle class) women attended colleges in greater numbers and with more social acceptance then before. They became symbols of newfound female independence and education. But at the same time they faced a lot of obstacles , particularly in co-ed institutions like Midwestern University. She still had to navigate her way through a very male dominated institution that did not take her seriously if they wanted her to be there at all. Along with the change in female education came cultural backlash both within and outside the academy. Misogynistic (and racist) detractors viewed female higher education as frivolous, unsuitable for women's 'fragile physiology' and even saw it as the 'suicide' of the middle-class white American family. Yeah these people were the fucking worst. Anyway, being a female student at a university in that era meant dealing with and overcoming all kinds of bullshit from exclusion to outright harassment (even more than it does now).

And then there is the fact that she apparently studied biology (or microbiology more specially) in a time where most women pursued degrees in teaching or nursing (if they planned to use it vocationally) or liberal arts (if they did not). Women were actively discouraged from taking science courses and Joan would have been trying to enter an even more hostile boys club whilst fighting against even greater social pressure. But despite it all she seemingly did succeed and presumably help break barriers for women in science which is awesome.

And we can see this refusal to back down in her personality. Joan's kindness is matched by her tenacity and her 'do first, ask for permission later' personality, which whether forged through her experiences in academic or before-hand helped her persevere overcome the many obstacles she would have faced. She's an absolute badass.

Now this is not strictly relevant but she also knew Jay was the flash the whole time which is really sweet. I personally like to think she figured it out because he kept asking her really specific questions about human metabolism and the like (biology seemingly is Jay's scientific blindspot) and she put two and two together. Also he just innately trusts her with his secret which is cute considering how much secret identity drama silver age couples went through.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 263

Once More, we return to Tiamat prompts. 

It was a wonderful idea, really! If one of them couldn’t break the barrier, then surely their combined might would do it! And it had! It had worked, even if their remaining humanity was sacrificed. They’d done it, they’d made it where everyone could escape, could leave!

… Except for them. Someone had to close the portal. And it all would have been fine, if not for the remnants of the GIW. One last hail mary from the imbeciles, they all supposed. Trapping them here within the Zone. 

Separated from their families, from the pair of children they had agreed to raise. At least their siblings would watch over Ellie and Jordan. Kyle could hide them, make sure they were safe. Jazz… Jazz was gone, the final straw in this plan. 

They screamed, they raged, they destroyed in grief for those that didn’t make it, and for those who had but had nowhere to go. No portals opened, even as they tore at the green around them. They fought, any that thought they were weak, that they were merely a beast, an abomination trapped in chains of science and gold. 

There was nothing that could be done, Frostbite had said, sympathy in his voice. No way to turn back the clock with how entwined they had become, Clockwork had explained. The only thing they could do was wait, Pandora had tried to sooth, despite it doing nothing. 

They wrenched open the coffin in a hazy fury, tearing apart armies like it was blades of grass. Their maws devoured dead who had lost themselves and become mere husks and thralls, lashing tails ripping through armour like it was nothing. 

And then as titans, they clashed with the one who had once stolen the city here. There was no desperation from them this time, no armor besides scales unbreakable as flames and storms and ice and thorns ripped islands apart. There was no desperation besides that of their opponent’s. 

There was a pleasure in their victory, before it was wrenched away. What use was a crown when their family wasn’t there? When their daughter, their son, their children were not there by their side? 

Paulina laughed, hysterical as ectoplasm dripped from her maw as Kwan howled. Their body was covered in it, their rampage that had no use, no reason leaving a trail of destruction behind them. Is this what they wanted? 

No. 

Danny raised his head from the dissolving corpses to look towards the obliterated roof of the Keep, once so terrifying now turning to dust like the crown. The crown reforming above their heads, heavy and almost choking. 

They would carry this weight together. Would restructure things, would do what they had wanted to do for Amity before the Barriers. They’d work together to rebuild the Realms, make it safer, make it safe for those newly dead. 

No matter how long it took, no matter how hard it would be to fix the destruction they had wrought in this meaningless battle. (“Danny, you’re the spokesperson,” Sam spoke up, thorn-like scales ruffling. “You’re most familiar with the realms thanks to the Infinimap.” Fair. “We’ll need allies, we’re only nine people.”)

(“Let me talk to the egyptian afterlife,” Tucker sounded exhausted, hood folding back. “I’m most familiar with them… Star, Paulina, you’re both Princess Dora’s favorites-”)

(“We can do it. Just give us time.” “Maybe a to-do list.” “Clockwork. We need to talk to Clockwork, he’d be most familiar with this.” “Rest first, nerds. We’re all… exhausted.”)

(Valerie laughed tiredly, blades melting to heal a broken horn. “Time isn’t linear here Dash. You know that. I know that. For once we’re the ones with time to spare.” It would take years to get things up to snuff. Make things Safe for when they could bring their families here.)

Their eyes opened as the now flimsy chains shattered, a smile stretching across the shared face of their humanoid form. Soon. They could return to the mortal realm soon. Just a little more, and they could see their little ones.  They'd waited a thousand years, they could wait a few days more.

(also have sketch)

@fairy-lights-and-blobs @radiance1 You both seem to enjoy my Tiamat prompts/Aus lol

[aealzx]

*gestures vaguely * Driving makes me daydream, and while I was plotting out/daydreaming about my Phantom Rogues fic the opening of Demon Slayer came on and brain decided to derail for 2 days before I ran out of steam. So here's all I managed from that spurt of a distraction X'D ( this must be why I never manage to finish big projects ._. )

all concept ideas under the cut. People are free to spiral off this if they want

Sam and Tucker were supposed to be part of the pic too, but I ran out of steam for this idea |D they were in the rough

I'm just gonna list unsorted bullet point ideas I had for this X'D

The "Fentons" are a mixed nationality family (Maddie is from overseas) so the kids both have 2 names. Why? Because I wanted to try giving them JP names based off their actual names. Daniel means "god is my judge" so that one was really hard and I just went with what I have up there. Jasmine = jasmine, so I went with "jasmine kid" hehee. and the characters for Haruki are "warmth" and "precious" because I'm a sap

backstory ideas:

Maddie is a Hashira, because branching from the idea of "really good demon slayer family" Jack is probably just a good lower member of the corp

Jazz was taught from a young age, but wasn't really into it until Danny was born. Eventually becomes newest Hashira with the drive to protect Danny

Danny has been trained by parents a bit, but way behind Jazz because not the best health. Fluctuates drastically in health, so fairly introverted and overshadowed by older sister

Sam is from one of those .... onmyouji? families. The ones that fight demons with sigils and chants and stuff instead of swords.

Tucker is from a science doctor family, and is just a guy compared to the rest, but also an encyclopedia brain.

Sam and Tucker met Danny because their families were asked to help him out on different occasions, and Sam and Tucker tagged along at some point and befriended Danny

The whole demon thing

Danny was home alone, and supposed to show up to Jazz's hashira ceremony party thing, but never did

Jazz and fam return to find house broken up and bloody, but no sign of Danny. Jazz recognizes a rather odd sigil paper as belonging to Sam, and goes to the three's little hideaway house

Sam and Tucker have newly demonized Danny trapped in a barrier, and he's fluctuating between responding to them and just being rawr

Seeing Jazz is what motivates Danny to fully push into docile demon mode, but only after breaking out of the barrier and tackling her, then crying on her

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker all decide oh hell no we're not taking demon brother to very "murder all demons" parents, so end up going on the run while trying to figure out how to cure Danny

Sam and Tucker are the main ones trying to figure out a cure because they've both been interested in studying more about demons than their parents are happy with since they were kids

[millydrawsthis]

ANOTHER UNDERTALE AU?!

HIII! THERES A NEW AU IM MAKING, ITS FUN AND IM HOPIN YOULL ENJOY IT!! <33 STORY IS DOWN BELOW!! ↴

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦YOU ARE FILLED WITH THE WILL TO LIVE✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

[ It's around seven years since the sixth human fell into the underground. With six human souls captured but no luck in obtaining a seventh, the monsters in the lab decide to start on a new project. ]

OPERATION NEW SOUL The plan to create a human soul.

With the determination they have, they insert it into monster's souls at first, turning some into dust…and some into amalgamates. Desperate, the scientists attempt to fabricate a soul using pure science. It works, but only temporarily; the artificial soul withers, draining away due to its inherent instability. The people of the lab couldn’t find out what they were missing.

Suddenly someone had an idea, what if they combined a monster soul with a human one. It seemed silly really, but what could they say, no? So they tried it, They gather fragments of the previous human souls and infuse them with determination. It's promising, but incomplete. They still need the monster soul.

And then one stepped up, “Meh, who really needs both halves. Someone gotta be the one feelin’ half of a Soul.” He joked. With half of his monster soul, and half of a human soul—they made…well, a soul. A stable one, maybe? No one really knew.

Some urge immediate use, fearing it will wither like the others. But the lead scientist insisted, “We must wait until its determination is strong enough to break the barrier.”

It seemed foolish. How could a soul, cobbled together in a lab, be strong enough?

You’ve opened your eyes. The first lab made “human”. ..created by monsters—how ironic. Born in a lab, it feels as if you simply appeared out of thin air. And to be literal, you did. Some young child popped up in their lab with some silly striped shirt on and dumb brown shorts.

“Now?” They would say, but the lead scientist still refused. “We wait.” He’d say.

└── •✧• ──┘

You know, it would mean the absolute WORLD to me if you reblogged this—but if you don’t wanna, that’s okay too! I’m just glad you read it! My asks are open, if you have any questions or wanna talk to the characters of the AU, you should totally do that!

Okay, that’s enough yapping for today! Cya brah!

[reallchristine]

ENERGY ─ chapter two

pairing: logan howlett x !f!reader

Set during x-men (2000) and X2

warnings: angst, hurt, violence, bad grammar?😭, basically the plot of the first movie!

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You stand, unable to move as you watch your younger sister lying against the bedroom wall you shared. She utters your name in shock, clutching her chest in pain.

“No, no, no...” You shake your head as your mumbles turn into shouts, watching your sister struggle to breathe.

“Please!” You cry, choking on your sobs as you try to break the unforeseen barrier.

Trying to fix what you’ve done.

But it’s too late.

You jolt awake, sweating and gasping for air. You look around, only to be met with the darkness of your bedroom.

The memories of the accident haunt your dreams. You tried burying the thought of what happened in the past, but it follows you, acting as a reminder of what you’ve done.

Starting to calm down, you slide out of your blankets, put on the slippers that are on the floor beside your bed, and make your way out of your room and down the steps. You enter the hall and finally through the doorway of the kitchen.

You pour yourself a cup of water and sit on the stool, gulping down the water as you try not to think about the recurring dreams that wake you up at night. Instead, you think about the information Jean told you before you headed to bed.

She wanted to give you an update on what they found after Logan’s x-ray. Apparently, his bones were bonded with adamantium metal, and he was able to withstand the process because of his mutation, recalling what Jean had told you.

Before you can continue with your thoughts, you look up to see Logan entering the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say, greeting him with a timid smile.

“Hey.” he replies, as he starts to look around the kitchen.

“Uhm, are you looking for something?” you ask, watching him open the fridge and then close it right after. He turns to you, “Got any beer?”

“This is a school,” you say, staring at him.

“So, no?”

“No.” You reply, shaking your head as you find yourself amused by his odd question.

“If you want something to drink, there’s soda in that cupboard,” you tell him, pointing to its location. He walks up to it, opens the small cupboard door, and reaches for a soda.

“Thanks,” he says, twisting the bottle cap open as he takes a seat across from you. “So, you’re a teacher at this school?” he asks, striking up a conversation.

“Yup, I teach chemistry,” you reply.

“Chemistry, huh,” he says while taking a swig of his drink. He asks another question, “And how’s that working out for ya?”

“Surprisingly well,” you respond with a shrug, pausing as you continue. “I mean, I enjoy science, and I like being able to work with kids, so it’s nice.”

“Looks like that’s going nicely for you,” he says with a bit of humor in his tone.

“I guess you could say that,” you answer, moving off the stool you were sitting on to put away the now-empty cup.

“Anyways, I should be heading back to bed.” you tell him, walking towards the kitchen door.

“Me too,” he replies, letting out a sigh and throwing away his empty bottle, following you.

You both make your way up the stairs heading to your separate rooms.

“Goodnight, Logan.” you say with a sleepy smile.

“‘Night,” he replies, watching you enter your room before he enters his.

You return to your blankets to get some more rest, checking the clock on your nightstand before shutting your eyes: 1:02 a.m.

Turning in bed, you quickly sit up, awakened by the sound of someone screaming.

You run out of your room to see a crowd forming in front of Logan’s bedroom. You rush into the room only to find Rogue using her powers on Logan.

“Everyone back to your rooms!” you say, some kids doing as you asked while others continue to stay.

The others rush into the room after you. Ororo now stands by your side as Scott switches on the lights.

Rogue lets go of Logan as he falls to the ground. “It was an accident.” she says, quickly turning to you and walking away.

The morning after the events of last night leaves you drained. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you prepare to set up the classroom for a new lesson.

Students start coming into your class once the bell rings, sitting at their designated seats. The last of your students to walk through the door is Rogue.

You smile at her when she enters. Rogue quickly takes a seat at her desk as you begin your lesson.

As your students finish the last bit of their notes, the bell rings, indicating the end of class. They pack up quickly, saying goodbye as they leave your class.

“Rogue!” you call as she turns to you, stopping just before the door. “I wanted to ask how you’re doing?”

“I’m fine,” she answers timidly.

“I know what happened last night wasn’t your fault,” you pause, “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

She stares at you.

“Look, I know how it feels to be scared of your mutation,” you tell her.

“No, you don’t,” she replies, shaking her head.

“Trust me, I do,” you say, raising your hand between the two of you as you start forming a small ball of energy in your hand. “I wasn’t able to control my mutation before, and honestly, I’m scared that sometimes I still can’t,” you tell her as the ball of energy slowly disappears.

You continue, “But this place, this school, it helped me. It gave me opportunities I thought I could never have in this cruel world.”

“Which is why I don’t want you to think you’re less than anyone here. You have the same opportunities as everyone else at this school. You deserve to thrive,” you tell her with a smile.

“Thank you.” she says, returning the smile.

“Of course, Rogue-” you say.

“Marie.” she corrects quickly.

“I’m always here if you need me, Marie.” you say to her. She smiles and walks out of your class as the bell rings for your next class.

As the school day finally finishes, you start to clean up the papers left on your desk.

“Y/n!” Ororo says, bursting into your classroom.

“Ororo? What is it?” you ask, confused.

“It’s Rogue. She ran away,” she tells you.

“What?! I just talked to her earlier,” you say.

“Charles found her at a train station. Logan’s already on his way there. Scott and I are going to follow. You should come,” she tells you.

“Alright. But my mutation—”

“You’re going to be fine,” she reassures you. You nod at her as you both walk out of your class.

When you arrive at the station, you walk up to the front desk with Ororo while Scott look’s around.

“She’s about 17, um, my height, and has brown hair,” she tells the man at the ticket booth. You stand close behind her as she continues to speak, when you suddenly hear large footsteps approaching the both of you.

You turn around only to be met with Sabertooth.

“Ororo—” you say before you are grabbed into a chokehold and smashed against the glass.

“Scream for me,” he says.

Ororo, who was caught off guard, tries to use her powers but is suddenly knocked out by Sabertooth, who grabs her and throws her against the wall before dropping you to the floor.

Scott rushes toward you both, pushing people out of the way, only to be stopped when his visor is grabbed, making him shoot a hole in the roof of the station.

You hastily get up with a groan, your neck and head throbbing as you start to build up energy in your hands, stretching your arms and creating a blast of energy.

You fire it toward Sabertooth as he breaks through the wall, hitting the ground from the blast.

You run toward Ororo, who is slowly getting up from the ground. “Are you okay?!” you ask, helping her up.

“Yeah,” she responds, rubbing her head and taking your hand.

“Come on, let’s get Scott,” you say, holding her up while your eyes scan the area for Scott.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n ── this still needs to be proof read! But omg was I struggling to write this chapter😭 I’ve been so busy the past month so forgive me for that😣 I haven’t set a schedule yet for this series but I’ll let u guys know! Also some of the @ are not working for the taglist so just message me if you want to be added!

🏷️: @cxptainbuck @thecraziestcrayon @marvelgirlie-4 @ravenslvt @malfoys-demigod @byhuenii @avatarobsessedgirly @kinokomoonshine

[usnatarchives]

Beyond the Stars: Mae Jemison’s Odyssey ✨

Happy Black History Month!

This Black History Month, we spotlight the extraordinary life of Dr. Mae Jemison, the first African American woman to travel in space. Born on October 17, 1956, in Decatur, Alabama, and raised in Chicago, Illinois, Jemison’s journey into the stars is a testament to the power of dreams and determination.

From an early age, Jemison showed a keen interest in science and space, but noticed the absence of women astronauts. She pursued her passion relentlessly, earning a B.S. in Chemical Engineering from Stanford University and an M.D. from Cornell Medical College. Before joining NASA, Jemison was a general practitioner and served in the Peace Corps in Sierra Leone and Liberia, where she managed health care for other volunteers. In 1987, Jemison’s dream became reality when she was selected for NASA’s astronaut program. On September 12, 1992, aboard the Space Shuttle Endeavor on mission STS-47, Jemison became the first African American woman to travel in space, serving as a mission specialist. During her eight-day mission, she conducted experiments on weightlessness and motion sickness, contributing valuable data to the field.

Jemison’s honors include induction into the National Women’s Hall of Fame, the National Medical Association Hall of Fame, and the Texas Science Hall of Fame, among others. Her story is not just one of breaking barriers in space exploration, but also of inspiring generations to pursue their dreams, regardless of birth and obstacles.

For more information on Mae Jemison’s groundbreaking journey and contributions to science and humanity, the National Archives holds numerous resources that illuminate the lives and achievements of African American pioneers:

[cantsayidont]

When attempting to critique the values of a long-running franchise like STAR TREK, it's important to draw a distinction between superficial issues and structural ones.

"Superficial" in this sense doesn't mean "minor" or "unimportant"; it simply means that an issue is not so intrinsic to the premise that the franchise would collapse (or would be radically different) were it changed or removed. For example, misogyny has been a pervasive problem across many generations of STAR TREK media, which have often been characterized by a particular type of leering-creep sexism that was distasteful at the time and has not improved with age. However, sexism and misogyny are not structural elements of the TREK premise; one can do a STAR TREK story where the female characters have agency and even pants without it becoming something fundamentally different from other TREK iterations (even TOS, although there are certainly specific TOS episodes that would collapse if you excised the sexism).

By contrast, the colonialism and imperialism are structural elements — STAR TREK is explicitly about colonizing "the final frontier" and about defending the borders, however defined, of an interstellar colonial power. Different iterations of STAR TREK may approach that premise in slightly different ways, emphasizing or deemphasizing certain specific aspects of it, but that is literally and specifically what the franchise is about. Moreover, because STAR TREK has always been heavily focused on Starfleet and has tended to shy away from depicting life outside of that regimented environment, there are definite limits to how far the series is able to depart from the basic narrative structure of TOS and TNG (a captain and crew on a Starfleet ship) without collapsing in on itself, as PICARD ended up demonstrating rather painfully.

This means that some of the things baked into the formula of STAR TREK are obviously in conflict with the franchise's self-image of progressive utopianism, but cannot really be removed or significantly altered, even if the writers were inclined to try (which they generally are not).

What I find intensely frustrating about most modern STAR TREK media, including TNG and its various successors, is not that it can't magically break its own formula, but that writer and fan attachment to the idea of TREK as the epitome of progressive science fiction has become a more and more intractable barrier to any kind of meaningful self-critique. It's a problem that's become increasingly acute with the recent batch of live-action shows, which routinely depict the Federation or Starfleet doing awful things (like the recent SNW storyline about Una being prosecuted for being a genetically engineered person in violation of Federation law) and then insist, often in the same breath, that it's a progressive utopia, best of all possible worlds.

This is one area where TOS (and to some extent the TOS cast movies) has a significant advantage over its successors. TOS professes to be a better world than ours, but it doesn't claim to be a perfect world (and indeed is very suspicious of any kind of purported utopia). The value TOS most consistently emphasizes is striving: working to be better, and making constructive choices. Although this can sometimes get very sticky and uncomfortable in its own right (for instance, Kirk often rails against what he sees as "stagnant" cultures), it doesn't presuppose the moral infallibility of the Federation, of Starfleet, or of the characters themselves. There's room for them to be wrong, so long as they're still willing to learn and grow.

The newer shows are less and less willing to allow for that, and, even more troublingly, sometimes take pains to undermine their predecessors' attempts along those lines. One appalling recent example is SNW's treatment of the Gorn, which presents the Gorn as intrinsically evil (and quite horrifying) in a way they're not in "Arena," the TOS episode where they were first introduced. The whole point of "Arena" is that while Kirk responds to the Gorn with outrage and anger, he eventually concedes that he may be wrong: There's a good chance that the Gorn are really the injured party, responding to what they reasonably see as an alien invasion, and while that may be an arguable point, sorting it out further should be the purview of diplomats rather than warships. By contrast, SNW presents the Gorn as so irredeemably awful as to make Kirk's (chronologically later) epiphany at best misguided: The SNW Gorn are brutal conquerors who lay eggs in their captives (a gruesome rape metaphor, and in presentation obviously inspired by ALIENS) when they aren't killing each other for sport, and even Gorn newborns are monsters to be feared. Not a lot of nuance there, and no space at all for the kind of detente found in TOS episodes like "The Devil in the Dark."