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[gudfornuthin]

Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

[p0rk-guts]

He's finally done I think. WOAW! Radio demon time!!!

Okay time for comparison + breakdown rant ^ - ^ another SUPER long one I had a lot to say about this silly guy

ALRIGHT. So. Atp all that can be said has been said about Alastor but I'll gloss over it anyhow. Grossly historically inaccurate hair and clothing. Invisible deer theming. One of the main reasons he's got one of the most clowned on designs in the show is bc he's a pretty good representation of the worst it has to offer. He's absurdly red and has the waspiest waist in town. Also gotta zero in on the coat for a second bc I find it incredibly stupid that he went to that tailor bc of his coat being ripped and then left the shop with the exact same torn coat on oh goddd that felt like a complete joke who wrote this

Also his "redesign" was pointless. He stayed pretty much entirely the same except his colors got pinker and grosser and now he has this?? White trim on his lapels??? Even less 1930's accurate and it only serves to hurt the pallate in my eyes. It's the only spot of white on his entire design, it doesn't appear anywhere else so it throws it all off. And it's so bright. Is it supposed to be a focal point?? His tits????

Anyways onto my guy who I love so very deeply. I'm pretty sure sepia film was outdated by the 1930s but I gave him a palette inspired by it to emphasize how dated and stuck in old ways he is. Added blood red accents bc. Well. Cannibal murderer. Also bc I redid the sin colors so red is wrath and it seems like a fitting sin to pair him with.

After looking into 1930's men's fashion a tiny bit (thanks anon, this video was helpful!) and gave him a double breasted coat but wider and pointier so he looks a little less like just some normal guy and really emphasize how prideful and egotistical he is. "Ooo look at me I'm super big and imposing and powerfulll". I think it's a fun character trait of his. Definitely keeping it.

I liked him wearing gloves bc I feel like he wouldn't like getting his hands directly dirty and would always be covered when committing his murders. Maybe he's a germaphobe even. "I can excuse murder but I draw the line at dried blood on my skin". Also the gloves being white would contrast really well with blood so. Love that

I gave him a long tie to free him from the Vivziepop bow tie uniform and a fedora to add to the 1930's vibe and serve as something that can occasionally obscure his face in shadow. His glasses are also opaque and I imagine his eyes would rarely be shown if ever to make him seem more inhuman and off-putting, disconnecting him from personhood a bit. Wanted to add to that with his smiling mouth never opening and just being a static grin that can only occasionally widen or lessen, his voice cracking out of his "speaker" with fuzzy radio static. Seen multiple ppl use that idea and it always eats

I love Alastor's silly theatric nature (primarily in the pilot) and I'd probably keep it, but I'd add a layer of uncanny-ness to him where when he's not putting on his silly jovial facade, he gives off an unnerving vibe. Trying to appear approachable and charming and pleasant to lure people in before he's revealed to be less than human. Loveee thattt

I love Alastor being a deer. Predator becoming prey (animal) + "prey animal" lulling people into a false sense of security before striking. Love it. We should be CAPITALIZING ON IT❗So I gave him deer like legs, visible deer hooves, and more readable deer ears + the ham radio tower antenna antlers (sorry 4 calling them horns 💀)

Tried to make it a little more obvious that he's a mixed man of color by giving him dark wavy hair and the faintest hint of lip definition Viv uses in her style. I think it works. He's still not dark skinned tho

LASTLY the mic. Also not an original idea as I've seen tons of others turn it into a carbon mic but turned into a pentagram shape and I love the idea a lotttt so I joined the crew.

AND THAT DOES IT!!!! hope u like him as much as I do hehe. Just 1 supplemental doodle this time sorry :/ showing off how his face is probably obscured most of the time. He's. So hard to draw. I'm just bad at men but I'm tryinggggg guys

Alsoooo I've already finished the drawings for Niffty, Angel, and Husk! Once I've finished their breakdowns I'll add em right to the queue, and then I'll make a post with all of the main 6 together :3

[takingthehobbitswhere]

fivefourthree.

Summary: Jason Todd getting feelings for someone he just met. In a flower shop of course.

Word count: ~2840

A/N: Well, well look who finally posted another piece. I am so sorry. Might be sort of character accurate, might not be - all I know is I'm doing this instead of a speech I'm supposed to be writing. Oops.

Warnings: strong hints of spice

jason todd x f!reader

The door had barely creaked open when the bells tied to the entryway alerted you to a new presence. A stifled sneeze made you look up from the bouquet you were cutting, towards a head of curly black hair glowering as he wiped his nose. Keeping him on the edges of your vision, you leaned back down to your flowers as he started to mill about, gently fingering the colorful blooms. After crossing in front of your workspace for what was at least the fourth time you sighed, cleared your throat and spoke. “May I help you?”

The boy spun around, hands in the air, and sauntered over, placing his hands on the counter. “Yes.” He looked at you intently, eyes almost seeming to shift from blue to green and back. “What kind of flowers scream I hate you, and I don’t plan on forgiving or forgetting any time soon?”

You tried to fight a smile as you turned to evaluate your stock, nodding. “Sounds serious. Let’s see what I have here. Ah, petunias, orange lillies, butterfly weed-”

“I’ll take all of them.”

“Do you have an hour?”

The boy looked down at his watch, then up at the flowers, back down, then at you. “Yeah, yeah I got time.”

You hummed in response, already in motion. Choose. Cut. Prepare. Working in near silence, a tinny speaker letting out strains of a somber piano was the only accompaniment. He watched you as ten minutes ticked by before uttering a single word. You had expected him to leave, but you had to admit you appreciated the company.

“How long have you been doing this?” He asked, leaning over the counter.

“Almost four years now. I learned from a older lady in my building when I first moved, and haven’t looked back.”

“Well, your arrangements out front look incredible.”

You looked up, finding him staring at you with something that resembled a smile on his face.

“I'm Jason.”

“[Name].”

Greenery. Focal. Fill. The space filled with silence again, but ever so slowly, over the next forty-five minutes, you found yourself opening up to each other, laughing the most you have in months, telling the safe pieces of your stories, until begrudgingly, it was time to hand off the bouquet. The time, however fleeting, was refreshing. Wrap. Finish.

“Well, here you are.” You pick up the flowers, extending them to Jason, a shy grin on your face as your eyes meet. His fingers brushed your hand, startlingly cold. “I hope whoever’s getting them is properly accursed for their wrongdoing.”

“I’ll make sure to tell my brother that. Just for insurance purposes, I’m going to need your number. Can’t leave you without an update can I?” He grinned cheekily, ripping off a small piece of the bouquet’s wrap paper and slid it across the counter.

With a sigh, you picked up your pen, tapping your chin.

“And collateral, for the allergies,” He whispered.

A small chuckle escaped, and with a flourish, you handed the paper back to him, number, name, and all. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Almost out the door, bells ringing again, Jason paused, lifting his hand in a wave. “See you tonight!” he called. Before you had a chance to react, he was gone.

It rang through your head the rest of your shift, a reoccurring distraction as you gathered arrangements, watered flowers, and helped customers. A timer rang somewhere in the back, shaking you out of your reverie, a violent reminder to start closing the shop. Finally.

Humid evening air greeted you, clouds parted for the summer evening. The walk home was pleasant for once, the smell of the city no longer trapped in the now-absent layer of grey, the sun’s glow casting a spell on everything it touched. The light framed in your apartment window warmed a spot on the wood floor, and gladly you sunk down, curled into it. The shorter, colder days always came too quickly for your liking. Peace settled into your bones, your eyes growing heavy.

A phone somewhere vibrated. Again. Closer this time. The buzzing danced along the floor til it reached you, waking you up. A hand, your hand, brushed the edge of the vibrating box, yours. Oh. OH. You became alert, fingers scrambling to grab the phone, hoping the call wouldn’t be missed. Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jason.”

“Long time, no see.”

“I don’t know if you’re free tonight, but I highly suggest you make it so because I’m inviting you to my favorite dive bar where you can enjoy some live music, my company, and most likely a free drink or two. And if that’s not enough, just know I’m extremely stubborn.” His voice came through tinny, but just enough you could hear the tease in his voice.

A beat passed. You bit your lip. “Okay. Count me in.”

“Great. See you there. Seven.” And with that, he hung up, leaving you once again in silence. Dang. It’s a date.

30 minutes later, you found yourself seated in front of your closet, practically every article of clothing you owned on the floor. By the time you grabbed your keys, you had settled for something slightly more than what you'd usually wear. Your phone buzzed again with an address. It was just a short walk. You weren’t worried. Living in Gotham for almost all your life greatly shifted your classification of dangerous.

The bar was in an older building, dilapidated in a sophisticated sense. You could see the orange glow through the windows, shadows moving about to the light thrum of music. Your nerves stirred in your abdomen, slowly climbing into your throat. Just open the door and step in. Inhale, exhale. In you went. The wood paneled interior gave warmth to the space, various stained glass lights hanging about the space. Booths and few tables decorated the space about the bar, a constant buzz of conversation barely discernible above the live band playing from a corner stage. A saxophone caught your attention, crooning as the drumset hissed in response. Everyone seemed in their own world. Watching the music so closely, you didn't notice the someone coming up behind you until they had placed their hands on your shoulders, bracing as you flinched.

"Hello, [name]," the voice, Jason's, whispered into your ear. A knot forming in your stomach as he barely brushed the back of your hair. Shifting, an arm was slung across your shoulders as he steered you gently towards an empty pair of barstools. Seated, you were able to look him up and down for the first time that night. He had changed, but He looked good. A simple black tee, arms tensed, the rest of his clothes the same.  An appreciative look on his face as he took in what you were wearing.

"So, what'll it be for you two?"

"An old fashioned for me, and for her.."

"Wine. Red, please."

The bartender nodded, drifting to a waving patron, leaving you two staring at the counter. Jason shifted towards you, leaning onto his leg, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. "Loser of the pool game gets the first round."

So there you were, in a hidden corner away from the din of the bar, lining up your break. It had been awhile since you played a game, and you knew he let you go first to size up his competition. Five, four, three, two, on one you let the cue fly, the chain reaction hitting the triangle of balls into a thousand different directions. A striped ball made its way into the pocket, leaving the cue ball in a compromising position. Huffing, you took a sip of your wine, and leaned, ball ricocheting off the side of the table, knocking into stripes and solids with a clack. His move.

Jason paced around the table until he found an ideal angle, testing his shot, eyes peering through his shaggy hair. With the utmost precision, his target found its way into the same pocket you landed your ball in. Clack, another one off the felt. "What can I say? Beginner's luck."

You bumped him forcefully, rolling your eyes. "In your dreams."

He was always one up on you, an aggravating dance of hope and loss, and the table was looking bare. Focus. A brief moment of consultation opened a possible shot, one you had to take. Practicing with your cue, you stared the no. 13 ball down. Line it up, pull back, and release.. It sailed into the pocket, the cue ball aligned beautifully with another striped one. Jason looked on approvingly as you hit another into the pocket. The eight ball was all that was left. Your cue slipped, scratching the felt, causing you to hit it from the side, barely moving.  Jason's turn. 

Jason's smile was burning through your back; you didn't even have to turn around to know he was already celebrating. Or so you thought until he slipped his arms around yours, adjusting your hands until your shot was perfectly positioned. His breath tickled your ear as he said something about your almost victory. He was steady, still as he played the shot through in his mind. You felt him shift, drawing the cue back, and as you both exhaled, the tension released, the ball rolled neatly into the corner, disappearing from view. Nobody dared move, staring at where the white ball remained. Jason's arms seemed to twitch, tightening around you as he whispered, "I owe you a drink."

Nodding was the only command your brain seemed to transmit as you were released from his grasp, his hands retreating, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He came back, another drink in hand, another smirk on his face. Giving it to you, he gently grabbed your arm with his free hand, leading you toward the band you saw earlier. The space was hazier, the lights dimmer, and it was harder to keep your balance, even ignoring the wine you had already consumed. His grip transferred to your hand as you approached the throng of dancers, pulling you into it, disappearing into the thick of bodies.

Surfacing in the middle of the mass, fresh air was a welcome commodity amongst the sickly-sweet mix of sweat and alcohol. Jason didn't seem to be perturbed, wholly focused on you, the music swelling back into existence. You stared right back at him, the red lighting bouncing off your surroundings, casting a soft glow on his face, transfixed. His hand extended, and once again, he pulled you, this time into a dance.

Back nestled into his chest, your hand was around his, resting on your hip, his fingers barely brushing under your shirt. A compromising position, but oh, it felt so good. The buzz was starting to hit you, and it heightened everything. Swaying, you fell into rhythm amongst the others around you, a steady pulse from the bass seemingly keeping time to your pounding heart, trying to ignore how he pressed into you, lips floating over your shoulder, the crowd moving around you.

Jason seemed to respond immediately to your growing tenseness, his hands hovering over your skin, forehead leaning into the back of your skull. The song ends right on cue, and in the resulting silence to applause, he turned you around, looking directly into your soul. His tone dips softly as a new riff fills the air. “Are you okay?”

A beat passed, and you finally found the courage to return his gaze. “Yeah- I just needed a moment.” Breathing deep, gathering a smile, normalcy returns. You tugged him into a spin, and in response, he dipped you, a squeal escaping from your throat.

The hours passed in a liquid haze, the end dancing closer and closer, until finally, you stumbled onto the street, the cool air shocking sobriety into your system. A glance was shared through the neon haze, another look, nothing was said, but a conversation, a dialogue, deeper than either of you were aware, had just begun.

Fingers slipped through yours, drawing you in a direction you didn’t want to go. Your place was closer. Your place was safer. Let’s go there. A gentle pull from you was all that was needed, and there you stood, in front of your door. No memory was formed of entering the building, standing in the elevator, walking down the hall, but none was needed. He was here, in front of you, and that was all that mattered; the quiet want in his eyes as he crept closer and closer, the struggle with the door handle as he pressed his lips to yours, the tumble into the entryway as the door gave, and the catch as his hands stabilized your bodies against the nearest wall.

The hunger built, space was no longer a concept. One of you ended where the other began, feeding into each other, caresses turning to grabs, mumbles turning into gasps, never staying in one place for long. The agony, the ecstasy of it all. A single thought lingered, questioning the sanity of this decision, but you pushed it back, trapped it in a box, and simply gave in.

Coming up for air, chests heaving, you had tucked into Jason’s arm, oblivious as he slowly surveyed your apartment, taking in the 400 foot studio you called home, warm light filling every inch of the space from a corner lamp, a portable chess set on a nearby table. It wasn’t much, but he could tell you had poured your heart into making it comfortable, safe. It was an abrupt, welcome change of scene from what the man laying beside you knew. This could be his safe place.

Your breath evened out, and he just listened, occasionally shifting his gaze to your figure, back to the ceiling, reaching out to trace a path down your sheets. With his heart keeping steady, with the rhythm of your inhales, he felt his eyes growing heavy for the first time in a long, long time.

Jason shot upright, head pounding, struggling to focus in on the unfamiliar room around him. Oh. His eyes shot to where you lay, peaceful and still, relieved the outburst was ineffective. What am I doing here? Shifting to the edge of the bed, he ran his hands through his hair, exhaling firmly, forcing himself to reprocess the events of yesterday. Maybe he was flirting with this girl, maybe he saw a friend, but all Jason knew was he didn’t know what he needed. Not a relationship. Anything, anything, but that. He dared to look back at you again. You would hurt and suffer for his actions, and that would be irreparable.

With practiced stealth, he picked up his scattered clothes and slipped them on, not daring to use the bathroom, minimizing his presence. He hoped you would forgive him. Then forget. That was best. Cramming on his shoes, he took one last look at the space he would think about for many more nights in the next sequence of life and quietly closed the door behind him.

The boy’s mind was already whirring, solving the next problem before it could happen. The entire house would ride his ass for this. He was sure he looked ridiculous, for sure jogging back to his car. And running up his front steps. And trying to inconspicuously unlock the side door. He was halfway to his room when-

“Jason!”

As slow as humanly possible, he turned around, peering over the stair rail at a one, very interested Dick Grayson.

“Dude, did you actually hang out with a girl? Wait ‘til Bruce gets a load of this.”

Before Dick could take another step, Jason was flying down the stairs, grabbing his shoulders, staring him dead in the eyes. “Do not mention this to anybody. I know where you sleep.”

“Master Jason, you’re home-” Alfred stops in his tracks, analyzing the situation before him, deciding a simple nod and a dismissive bow would be sufficient for pretending he never set eyes on the situation in the first place.

Waiting until Alfred finished rounding the corner, Jason finally let go of his brother, firmly dusting Dick’s shoulders. “Sorry.”

Dick sighed, looking at him suspiciously. “I won’t let it slip if you tell me the details of your outing. Scout’s honor.”

“That’s– illegitimate. You? A boy scout?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. Okay, I’ve changed my terms. Just make me a sandwich.”

“Fine.”

Dinner that night proceeded to be filled with Dick offhandedly chuckling to himself while everyone just offered questioning looks at Jason, afraid to ask. The scraping of cutlery was the only noise in the dining room, as he ignored them, stuffing another bite of chicken into his mouth. Every so often, a lighthearted comment was exchanged, but his heart wasn’t in it. All he kept coming back to was you as he stared at the bouquet on the table. His mind had convinced himself you would be fine, but his heart was telling him otherwise.

He knew he had to see you again.

[artist-issues]

Be careful of emotional music in movies and TV Shows.

By "be careful" I mean, when you're doing that thing I never stop talking about—you're trying to figure out why a moment in a story moved you—think about whether or not the story really set up and followed the moment through...or if they just threw a really emotional-sounding track/song over top of a rushed, cheap moment.

Like in the Vampire Diaries, or Suicide Squad, or an animated-streaming-movie. The characters will be saying something normal or maybe a bit cheesy to each other, the scene is about to end, and the storytellers don't have a good way to end it, so some song starts playing quietly under the dialogue. And suddenly you're feeling something, even though a second ago you were not that into it.

In the Vampire Diaries, it's usually The Fray. In Suicide Squad you'll get a punk-rock song as a new villains-enter-the-room scene starts...or several, every time a new scene starts.

In a streaming-budget musical, it might even be an original song with original lyrics that the characters are singing...

But pay attention! Music is one of the very easiest ways to engage a human's emotions. It's why influencers play inspirational piano music or covers of good movie soundtracks over what they're saying when they're trying to send out an encouraging message. It's why motivational speakers have a musical pad under everything they're saying. And yes, it's why movies use music, too.

And that is not a bad thing.

But what is bad is music that is used to try and make a moment impactful...but the story itself, and the characters in the scene, and the context of the scene, and sometimes even the lyrics of the song itself, can't support it.

The lyrics could be total crap—they could fail to fit the characters singing them, or the moment they're being sung during, at all—

—or it's an indie pop song that is actually about a friend with a drug addiction, but it's playing over, like, a scene where a young girl is saying "see you around" to the boy she has a crush on, so you feel all hyped emotionally.

It's cheap. It's silly. It's what Disney did in Wish (you knew this was coming, I've been on this topic for weeks)

Having Asha and Magnifico sing "At All Costs," which is a love song, to a room full of tangible bubbles makes zero sense. The song's lyrics only work if you're a pair of lovers declaring your devotion to each other—or, maybe, if you're a king and apprentice singing to actual people, not a room full of their daydreams. But!

The music is pretty. And it's literally engineered to be inspiring, and play with your heart strings. So you're sitting there going, "oh, wow, what a breathtaking magical song, I love it,"

but try and explain to me why you love it in connection to the story and there's nothing there.

Nothing that makes sense. You've just been emotionally manipulated by music. What you're really responding to is just the way the song sounds, and nothing else.

It's like the song (whether it's a musical number sung by the characters, or a piece of the score, or a pop song playing quietly in the background) is a beautiful set of curtains.

If you hang it up on a curtain rod, or even drape it artfully from the ceiling, it can do a lot for the space. It can make the place look bigger, or more comfortable, or show off the room's depth, or set off other pieces of furniture. It can even be a focal point.

But you know what the curtains need to do all that? A curtain rod. Something to be hung on!

If you just ball up the curtains and drop them in the center of the room, someone might walk in and go, "oh, are these curtains? They're pretty!" But you know what else they'll say? "Where are you going to put them? Why are they in the middle of the floor?" Because they don't belong there. The curtains are wasted on the floor.

Like a song that has no contextual meaning and is just laying in the scene like discarded curtains, arbitrarily playing with your emotions. Doesn't belong there; and what a waste!

So next time you really love a scene that has music in it at all, see what part the music plays.

If the lyrics make sense with the characters, if the story has reached a point where the song is all that's needed to accentuate the emotional depth that's already there, instead of creating it where it was lacking, then awesome. Now you can articulate what made you appreciate the song, so much better!

But if the lyrics made no sense with where the characters or the story was at; if it sounded pretty but didn't fit the scene; if it was the only emotional thing about the context of the scene—then it's not the story that you like. It's just the song, by itself. Add it to your Spotify playlist but don't say you loved that movie or that scene. You just loved that song.

Give credit where it's due instead of letting filmmakers trick you with cheap musical moments.

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 31

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

The passing of time began to heal the wounds that had been bestowed on you and Joel. Despite some initial reluctance, you agreed to talk to a therapist about being kidnapped by Vic and all that took place before and after. Joel had talked you into it, and agreed to go, himself.

By the summer, you felt almost back to normal; and those wounds turned into scars. Never forgotten, but no longer the focal point of your pain.

You passed the last of your practicals and exams. The final course you finished that summer and by the fall you had your nursing degree as planned.

It was October 1st when you handed your three closest girlfriends your last lump sum of money for the monthly rent on the house you had been renting together. It was bittersweet. The four of you had had so much fun through your mid twenties in that house, and waking up to share laughs and have coffee were the little moments you would miss so dearly.

"You're only moving six minutes down the road," Jessie reminded you, when the two of you cried together, complete with seemingly contradictory smiles.

"I know." You dried your eyes. "But.. I just.. I'm so happy but this is-"

"The end of Act One in your story and the beginning of Act Two." Jessie pulled you in for a long hug. "And this is where the friendships grow stronger, and the real depth comes in."

You sighed. Her words made you cry a little more before you finally got it together and bid a temporary farewell to your friend. The four of you already had a plan to go out the following Friday night and that was solace enough for the time being.

The very bright light at the end of the tunnel was Joel. Once you parted from Jessie, you sped over to Joel's street with your car full of all of your belongings. Your heart was letting you know how full it was from the constant thudding in your chest. It picked up the closer you got and felt like exploding when you pulled down the private driveway.

As promised, Joel sat on his front porch waiting for your arrival. One year later and he still made you swoon. The site of him still made butterflies flutter around in your midsection.

When you parked the car and popped open the driver's side door, you smiled wide as he approached with a key dangling between his fingers. You almost couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Welcome home." Joel smiled just as wide. The two of you couldn't take your eyes off one another and you pulled him in by the collar of his flannel shirt to leave a long, meaningful kiss on his lips.

"I love you," you breathed into his mouth.

"I love you, too." He brushed his nose against yours and you kissed again before accepting the key from him.

"I can't believe I live here now."

Joel kept you close. "Maybe one day I'll get you that cabin in the woods, but I thought this would do for now."

You shook your head and nodded toward the house behind him. "This is home."

He pecked your lips once more. "Come on." He pulled you by the hand and the two of you began to unload the car.

You were on cloud nine. Each box you brought inside made the move feel more permanent. When you unpacked the box that had your Bluetooth speaker in it, you plopped it on the little end table by one of the couches and put on one of your many playlists.

"Bob Dylan," Joel nodded in approval as the first song began to play. "Nice."

You smiled at him as he hauled another box in over shoulder. The two of you went through it together, finding a permanent home for your things. While you didn't want to impose on Joel's space, he was overly accommodating.

"It's our space now," Joel reminded you three or four times.

You stuck your toothbrush in the slot next to his. Joel cleared out more than half of the closet space for clothes. You laid out your boots, shoes and sandals.

When all of the bins and boxes were finally empty, you made your way back downstairs, welcomed by the infamous pipes of Sheryl Crow's Strong Enough, you finally reached for your car keys, and the single, gold key you had placed beside it; the one Joel had given to you.

As you picked it up between your fingers, Joel crept in behind you and kissed down your neck. You moaned lightly with a smile and closed your eyes.

"Mmm.." you let out a deep exhale through your nose. "So, this is my life now, huh?" You sunk back against him.

"As long as you want it to be," Joel whispered, as his hand snaked up the bottom of your shirt.

You turned around and Joel met you halfway in a smoldering kiss, one that you had been wanting to give him all afternoon. For the rest of the night you didn't take your hands off of him. Moving in together had turned you into a feral, needy woman.

When the two of you finally laid in bed, breathing heavy but otherwise quiet, you stated aloud. "I live here."

Joel began to chuckle, guiding you to lay partially on his chest. "You live here."

You sighed contently again, listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest with your arm slunk across his abdomen. "Imagine if I had never offered you that free coffee that night."

"What's meant to be will always be." Joel played with your hair. "But I'm glad you did." He added, "You're a brave woman. I owe you my life. You gave it back to me."

"All I want from you is to share it with me."

Joel kissed the top of your head and the two of you laid contently for a long while, talking about life, the future, and what was to come. You both intentionally left out the past. It was the easiest way to fall asleep peacefully.

When the next morning rolled around, you felt refreshed. It was like leaving a great dream only to awaken to a better one - one with Joel beside you. Permanently. Every day. For as long as you both could stand to be around one another. In your mind, that meant forever.

You smiled at him sleeping there and swung your legs off the edge of the bed before tiptoeing out of the room so you wouldn't wake him. As much as you wanted to lay there all morning with Joel, you also wanted to surprise him.

Despite it being your first formal night as a resident at the Miller house, you knew your way around the kitchen. And so you went about whipping up pancakes, setting the coffee pot and gathering the syrup, butter and chocolate chips you happened to find in one of the cabinets.

You hesitated before retrieving a long rectangular box wrapped in candy corn wrapping paper from your jacket pocket by the front door and left it by Joel's unmade plate.

Before you could go see if he was awake, your eyes lifted to meet his as he strolled into the kitchen. Joel pulled a long-sleeved tshirt down over boxers and you couldn't help but smile at his head of messy hair.

A smile crept on his face. "It smells amazing down here."

"Thought I'd surprise you on our first official morning living together." You smiled back and retrieved a glass dish filled with pancakes and placed them in the center of the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The two of you sat down at the table and Joel raised his coffee mug to you. "To many more cups of coffee together first thing in the morning."

You giggled and reached for your cup, tapping it gently against his. "To many, many, many more."

Joel took a sip, smacking his lips together with an appreciative sigh and then eyed the little box by his silverware. He smirked and reached for it. "What's this?"

You felt your stomach knot up and folded your hands on top of the table. "You'll uh.. you'll have to open it."

Joel's eyes squinted in playful suspicion but he still smirked as he tore open the corner of the tiny package. "I didn't even know they made candy corn wrapping paper," he commented, glancing up at you with a wider grin.

You flashed him a closed-mouth smile and waited as he removed the small, white box from the paper. His eyes met yours a final time before he opened the box and stared down at the contents inside.

A quiet exhale escaped your lips as you waited for Joel's reaction. Those next few seconds felt like hours.

"This is, um.. is this what I think it is?" He looked right at you now motioning down toward the box. A wide smile spread on his face, "I mean it's not a positive Covid test, right?"

You managed a light laugh but ultimately the gravity of the situation held you firmly in place. "No, it's not a Covid test."

Joel chuckled to himself and brought a hand across his mouth for a second, before running it across his beard. His eyebrows raised and he reached for the rectangular stick in the box.

"Tell me." He stared intensely across the table at you.

Your bottom lip dropped away from your top one and you hesitated. You weren't sure why but it was such a powerful, permanent set of words to string together. When Joel couldn't contain a smile, it gave you enough confidence to spit the words out with a little, timid shrug of your shoulders.

"I'm pregnant."

"Really?" He asked as if he didn't believe it, rising to his feet. Joel made his way toward you.

You nodded and rose to your feet, feeling completely content and at ease in his arms as he hugged you. The warmth that often radiated from him transferred into you and you closed your eyes as his hand moved up and down your back.

It felt as if Joel didn't want to let you go, and you didn't mind. You smiled to yourself when he kissed your forehead before edging his back an inch or two so you were face-to-face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded and smiled back at him. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, making you laugh and you shared a long, closed-mouth kiss. "I'm going to be a dad." The words came out almost like a question. You were sure the shock of the moment hadn't fully registered yet.

"You're going to be a great dad."

A lopsided smile still lingered on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and shook his head. When he couldn't find the words, you pulled him back in for a hug and he melted against you.

After a minute or so, Joel finally said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He picked you up off the ground and spun you in a circle, making you giggle again. When your feet were back on the ground, Joel put a hand on his head and you saw a dampness in his eyes.

"Don't," you said with a laugh, "I made it this long without crying."

"Sorry," he said with a laugh as a tear streaked his face. "Fuck. I'm the man, I shouldn't be crying."

"That's an outdated take," you told him with a laugh, as he dried his face with his hands.

"I know." He chuckled and then dropped down to his knees in front of you, lifting the shirt to expose your stomach. Despite there being no obvious indications of your pregnancy, Joel placed a hand over your abdomen and then left a single kiss just below your belly button.

You cradled his head against you as he placed the side of his face against the area and hugged around your waist.

"We're going to have our own little family," Joel acknowledged allowed.

"Yeah." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"What do you think, five kids?" He joked, making you laugh as he rose back to his feet.

"Maybe seven or eight," you teased back, accepting a series of kisses from him.

"I love you," Joel said again, tucking hair behind you ear. "Really. I loved you right away. Last year, a week into this, I knew this was something that comes once in a lifetime."

You had tears in your eyes now. "I knew it too. And now you finally get your happily ever after."

"So do you."

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee @shayna-d-clown @bbiophiliaa @theclassicvinyldragon @tiffanypooh @mandijo17 @poodlebae @purple-fig @vabeachazn

[femmefatalevibe]

Do you have any tips on getting attention when walking into a room

Confidence is KEY

Great posture (shoulders back, head held high, back straight, arms to your sides, chest expanded, deliberate & strong gait)

Greet people with a composed yet cheerful smile, a firm handshake, or signal a "hello" with a friendly wave across the room. Keep your body language open and inviting yet relaxed and confident.

Compliment others on their outfits or strike up a conversation on how great part of the event is (the venue, food, speaker, etc.).

Wear a well-fitting outfit paired with thoughtful accessories that coordinate well with your outfit. Ensure the pieces are tailored to fit your body, and line up proportionally (where the waistbands, hemlines, necklines, etc. hit on your body and meet each other)

Choose one statement clothing or accessory item (bags, bold jewelry, shoes, belt, broach, hair clip, etc.) as the focal point of your outfit. It's your "conversation-starting piece."

Apply an intoxicating signature scent that pairs well with your body chemistry. Be mindful of the scents you layer underneath (body wash, body lotion, etc., so they all work together and don't clash.

Ensure your hair is well-kept and styled in a sleek, shiny manner that flatters your face shape.

Apply makeup in a way that gives you natural glowy skin and slightly flushed cheeks, and choose either a smoky eye, eye-catching liner, or a bold lip as the focal point of your look.

Use shimmer self-tan lotion on your skin before the event for an extra glow.

Apply whitening toothpaste or whitening strips for an extra attention-grabbing smile.

[hephaestuscrew]

Thoughts on the patterns of who speaks the episode title phrases in Wolf 359

This analysis is based on the data I gathered in this spreadsheet and summarised with graphs in this post. Basically I've been looking at which character first says the episode title phrase (i.e. the exact words which form the name of that particular episode) in every episode of Wolf 359. Go and look at the spreadsheet if you want more context.

I think we can view the episode title phrases as often expressing the key problem or question of that episode. (I might talk about this in relation to individual examples another time.) Through this lens, the consideration of who speaks the title phrase is about which character gets to frame the key issue of the episode for the listener. This doesn't necessarily mean we are meant to share that character's view of the issue, but it's why I think there is some potentially significant analysis to be done on this topic. (See below the cut...)

The proportion of title phrases said by Eiffel reduces with each season. 69.2% of the Season 1 title phrases are (first) spoken by Eiffel, compared to 46.6% in Season 2, 22.2% in Season 3, and 20% in Season 4.

This is perhaps unsurprising. Eiffel is very much the main perspective character and the primary narrative voice at the start of the series. And, as someone with unusual speech patterns, he is excellent at coining a good memorable title phrase. However, while I'd argue that he never stops being the main protagonist, over the course of the series, the narrative focus broadens away from a singular emphasis on Eiffel's perspective. This perspective shift is reflected in episode titles being spoken by a greater range of characters.

I think the decreasing proportion of Eiffel title phrases also reflects the podcast's shift towards a generally more dramatic rather than comedic tone. While Eiffel is capable of being serious at times, I'd argue that his mode of speech is particularly well suited to generating amusing unusual turns of phrase that work well within a more comedic context (e.g. Succulent Rat-Killing Tar, What's Up Doc?, Bach to the Future). As the stakes become higher and the tone becomes less humorous, characters other than Eiffel, who are more often inclined to take things very seriously, are more likely to speak the title phrases.

There's also just the fact that as we get more characters involved in the action on the Hephaestus, the opportunity to speak the title phrase is spread between more characters.

Although Eiffel is by far and away the most common speaker of title phrases in Season 1, in the first three episodes of the whole show, we get all the characters of that season represented in the title phrases. Minkowski speaks the title phrase in the second episode and Hera does in the third episode - but probably quoting a phrase from Hilbert. This gives us a good early indication that, while Eiffel may be the focal point particularly in this season, this is going to be an ensemble show and all of these characters are going to be significant.

Hilbert's only title phrase is in Ep12 Deep Breaths, in the first stage of his mutiny, arguably the only point in the show where he appears to clearly have the upper hand while acting alone.

After the SI-5 are introduced at the beginning of Season 3, we get five Kepler or Jacobi title phrases in a row, which solidifies the SI-5's presence in the show. It also highlights the fact that the SI-5 have taken over the Hephaestus and are now (at least ostensibly) the ones determining the aims of the Hephaestus mission.

In addition, these patterns might be seen to reflect the shift in the show towards a more conflict-focused tone (related but not identical to the movement away from comedy). While Wolf 359 has always been a show full of conflict, the balance of this conflict shifts with the arrival of the SI-5. For the first time, our protagonists are facing a unified team of antagonists. The potential for violence feels higher, as do the stakes. This might explain why, while we only had one antagonist-spoken title phrase across Seasons 1 and 2 (Hilbert in Ep12 - Lovelace doesn't get a title phrase while she's serving as an antagonist), 44.4% of our Season 3 title phrases are first spoken by antagonists.

The only title phrase spoken by Maxwell is spoken by her in a recording that we hear after her death. This isn't even the only posthumous title phrase spoken from the past in Season 4 - we've got one from Commander Zhang of the Tiamat as well. It's an interesting kind of legacy, an interesting way to emphasize the questions characters leave behind after death, recalling similar themes to those explored in Ep46 Boléro.

[siremasterlawrence]

The Voice

Part 1 - 2

On a video call with some agents that if I am lucky perhaps by chance they might be the perfect match for me as being my agency for both voice acting and acting to be my representation.

I set everything up for the video call as I am sitting prepped up when the call comes through loudly on and I hit yes to answerthe call and I knew it this was a once in a lifetime.

The video rolls on showing me to both of the guys they smile brightly at me, giving me a wave as we begin our conversation hitting the light flicking it off and they are left in a state of confusion.

Before they can say anything the lights go on and off blinking in multitude of different colors pulling them in to a calm state of my affairs and they starting to asking me a question.

I began to go on a long journey of who I am adding coded messages leading both guys to meet me who’s and we stare deeply in to each other I can see the wave of calmness over take them both.

I point my figures towards them both of their eyes roll back to the side, they fall backward in to the sockets and the eyelids close down on big and his head falls back on to the couch.

I get excited throwing a fist pump into the air showcasing my enthusiasm to enslave both men in a fit of lust and then I begin to tame myself sitting upward and rethinking every move.

A loud crackle rolls on with the snap of my fingers as they pull upward sitting straight in the chairs and stare blankly at the screen ready for my commands so I smirk taking a deep breath.

I take a second breath checking them out from head to toe seeing the handsome, tall glasses of water and I imagine using them for many things beside enslavement of the world.

“Hello Jamie and Ashley! You can hear my clear and audible.”

“As the sound of my voice upon your wake up call.”

“We shall surrender in to total enslavement for life.”

“Yes correct! I am your Master and you are fully accepting.”

“Will you serve me willingly?”

“Most of you are corrupt and I am saving you.”

“Your clients are number one”

“I am your most important client “

“You are my number one fan”

“All you want is it please me”

“Everything you know is a lie “

“Your existence is for me, by me and in solely in service for me.”

“Mwahahahahaha! Wake up call”

“Oh what the…”

“What was I doing ?”

“Audition”

“Oh no! Right Ashley “

“We want to represent you “

Part 3 - 4

“Mr. Hardy and Eloise get the fuck in here.”could be heard in the speaker pouring in to the rooms of both agents who sighed in total audience because they were going to head to lunch.

Tom stood up knowing he is the number one agent in this damn business but hey he is still being called like a god damn assistant from the past but he puts his big boy pants on entering the elevator.

The man smirks as he says take him to the penthouse but something is off as the door shuts close and all of sudden the room is swooped up in darkness with a strange resounding sound.

The elevator sped upward in to the sky as it shoots fast reaching the pent house as the door slides open and he exist on to the main floor confused at what happen it was as if time froze.

Everything is right he thinks for second even though he is not sure why it felt like his time stopped for entire day and as he walks even further unaware of the day having turned to night.

It is dark bluish night sky peering in to the room all else begins to fade as he sees the young man sitting in his chair and his boss who is sitting on top to his desk and looks like he is swooning a bit.

“You wanted my presence at the moment boss?”

“Yes indeed! Meet your new client “

“Glad you could make it! It’s obvious you have had a wake up call.”

“I am the best damn agent in this office! How dare you call me on the speaker with that attitude?”

“Oh you’re still going on about that! You shall move on from that and focus on me.”

“I am your focal point Ellis.”

“Why fight? When you feel so free”

“I am all you see, know and want”

“YYYEEESSS “

“You have my attention “

“Then kneel and wake up call”

“Yes Master! I am your humble manger “

“Kiss my hand and embrace me”

“Sense my power”

“Comprehend my place in your life “

“I love you….Master”

“Master Lawrence! You are my world “

“Command me”

“Rise to your feet “

“My team! The four of you will be my core team.”

“Your life is about me and making me a star is your business.”

The end

The Voice Part 2

Part 5 - 6

Thomas and Taron are the studio head sons at Warner Brothers man Executive who are in for a treat and have gone through far too many headshots for the first feature to star in.

They found their first two stars at the main coupe attraction when they called my agent and I agreed to meet them as all for my slave guys sat at the sides as they put on a performance.

The man slide finishes as they tell me the goal of a story, to tell the truth about a very young adult meeting a older couple and they would start a unique relationship it could be a movie of television show.

My interest is piqued hearing the story as it it told to me all I can do I snap my fingers as my team excuses itself and they exit the office for me and I start to discuss with my part.

They listen unaware of the subtle sound of music blast through the speaker lulling them in to a slow state, and I can seem begin to blink and their bodies sway to the sound of my voice.

I rose to my feet as they match me watching my hand lift in the air, I let me fingers come together snapping my finger and everything crackles as they wake up shocked at all of my ability.

“Tom! Do you have anything to say?”

“I am in awe of your power!”

“What are you saying?”

“You are so Masterful!”

“I cannot believe this “

“It’s the truth Master Lawrence “

“How about you Taron?”

“I love you “

“You are my world “

“We will write something phenomenal “

“You will be a star “

“Tom agrees “

Part 7 - 8

“Meet your new directors”

“Your names?”

“We are the directors “

“I am Henry”

“I am Charlie”

“How do you have so much influence “

“Bois is explain it to them “

“Master Lawrence knows all and sees all”

“I am everything to them and of you”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“That email you sent”

“Absolutely! Wake up call”

“Uuuuuggggghhhhhh!”

“Fffuuuccckkkk”

“We are primed Master”

“How can we make this experience perfect”

“My list of demands”

“Your will shall be done”

The end

[riahlynn101]

Just wanted to say how much i appreciate your art and works. You write really, really well, and I’m no expert on that, but yes I can surely say this even as an amateur. You’re able to characterize the ones you write just in point, it’s as if you know them in real life, as if they were your friends or something. Please, keep doing what you do, I’m pretty sure there are a plenty of other people that enjoy your writing as much as I do. It’s so rewarding when I go to bed after a hard day and have one of your one-shots to read, it’s like I’m in another reality. Sorry if that sounds weird, I’m afraid I might sound a little crazy but I really like to encourage people, especially when it’s art related. Your art does touch people! And forgive me for any grammar mistakes, as English isn’t my first language

By the way, if that’s possible and if you would want to, would you ever do an schmelly one-shot about an “only one bed” prompt? It’s my favorite, I’d really like to see how they’d act. I know you don’t write smut, and I don’t want it either, so as long as you’re comfortable writing it, I’d really appreciate it 🥹

(AWWW <33 THANK YOU :D!! I really do appreciate that. I know I say it in a lot of my author’s notes, but I am really, truly grateful for all your guys’ support!!)

Sometimes I worry that my writing is trash. The plot makes no sense, or there are too many grammar mistakes, or the characters are…well….not in character. So, hearing that you like my writing makes me super happy :))

And it’s super kind of you to support/lift up artists and writers. There are too many people in this world that like to tear others down, so kudos to you for continuing to be kind and supportive <33

(And just as a little extra note: I think your English might be better than mine, and I say that as a native English-speaker. I mean that positively :D!! And I 100% guarantee that you write/speak English better than I could write/speak in your language, so take pride in that :))!!)

As for your request……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Word count: 1,417

Trigger warnings: implied/referenced kidnapping, implied childhood trauma - but both of those things aren't the focal point of the story.

Summary: What do you get when you add a snowstorm, a (nearly) booked out hotel, and Mike and Vanessa needing a room?

Answer - a hotel room with only one bed!

--

Snow as far as the eye can see. It comes down in clusters and catches on the wind, blanketing the ground in white. This isn’t abnormal for this time of year, and usually Mike and his sister waited for the first snowstorm with great anticipation. Her because it means Christmas is right around the corner. And Mike because it reminds him of Christmas’ past. 

This year, however, he’s stuck driving in it. A last-minute trip a few hours away and a surprise blizzard don’t really mix. Maybe if he would have checked the weather channel one more time this could have been avoided.

“We should stop for tonight,” Vanessa says, always the voice of reason (for the most part). “I think I saw a sign for a hotel just up the road.”

Mike squints his eyes, leaning forward. He’s going ten under the speed limit, and that’s the only reason his pile-of-junk car hasn’t slid into the ditch. “Okay, I think I see it.”

Somehow, they make it in one piece into the motel’s tiny parking lot. It’s crowded, and it takes him a solid five minutes to find a spot. Apparently they aren’t the first people to need a room for the night. 

“Do you think they have any rooms available?” Mike asks, gripping the steering wheel. The thought of bearing the cold is already making him chilly. 

Always optimistic, Vanessa smiles. “I’m positive they can squeeze us in somewhere.”

-x-x-x-

“You two are in luck,” the receptionist-the stereotypical midwestern soccer mom-says, looking at her computer screen, “we have one room left.”

Both of them sigh in relief. The idea of trekking back out into the cold was daunting,  and the idea of finding a different hotel is downright scary. 

“We’ll take it,” Vanessa pipes up. 

“Okey-dokey then. I just need you to sign here and date there.” 

As Vanessa signs the logbook, the receptionist passes over a key for the room. “Are you two married?” She asks, conversationally. Though, Mike knows growing up around these types, that she’s just being nosy. 

Vanessa shakes her head. “Oh, uh…no. Just friends.” 

The woman laughs. “That’s what they all say.”

Face turning red, Vanessa scurries away from the desk, keys clutched in her hand. Mike follows behind her, not trusting himself to not glare at the woman. 

They step into the elevator. “You okay?” He asks. 

Vanessa’s face is still red, but she seems otherwise calm. But he wouldn’t be a good friend if he didn’t at least try. She clears her throat, shrugging her shoulders. 

“I’m fine.”

The elevator doors open.

“So, what’s our room number?” 

Vanessa holds the key up. “Uh….says 204. And judging by the positioning of the light, the direction of the wind, and my knowledge of the polar vortex it’s down the hallway to the right.”

He stands there, dumbstruck. “Wow, you actually know our room number from all that?”

She stares at him for a solid minute, not saying anything. “Yep. I definitely didn’t listen to the lady downstairs, and didn’t read the sign right in front of our faces.”

Mike turns slightly, and sure enough there’s a sign directing people to their rooms on the wall. 200-220 to the right and 221-241 to the left.

“Huh,” he says. “Well, I never said I had good reading comprehension skills.”

Vanessa smiles at that, but quickly turns away. “C’mon, I’m really tired.”

Thankfully, the rest of the trip to their room is uneventful. The hotel is eerily quiet, which is weird given that it’s full tonight. But with their luck, the minute they try to get some sleep, everyone and their mother will be causing a ruckus. 

“This is it,” Vanessa says, indicating to a number plate on one of the doors. 

Mike sighs. “Thank god. It’s been a long day.”

The room is pleasantly warm and smells of mothballs. It’s kind of small, not that they were expecting much. A bathroom that lacks a shower or bath, a closet that’s full of cleaning supplies, and a TV stand that lacks an actual television. 

But the thing that gives them pause is none of those things. Instead, it’s the bed in the center of the room. The single bed. 

Single as in only one. 

They stand there in complete silence. Standing and staring. And then, staring some more. 

“Well…” Mike starts, “I can…take the floor.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “No, the floor’s probably filthy. I’ll take the chair over there, and you take the bed.”

He scoffs. “I’m sure I’ve slept in worse places. Besides, you paid for this room. So, you get to sleep in the bed.”

“But….you drove us all the way to Utah and back, so really I owe you.”

They face each other.

“But the reason we went to Utah was for me, so really I owe you.” Mike hates the idea of sleeping in the chair or the floor for that matter, his back has enough problems without adding to them. But he also has the advantage of being imbued with an unholy amount of stubbornness. 

Unfortunately, his opponent is Vanessa. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping in the bed,” she says, throwing her hands up. “So, if you don’t, then I guess it’ll just go to waste.”

“I guess so,” he shoots back. 

Vanessa rounds the bed, presumably to go sleep in the chair. (Another thing that there’s only one of.)

“What if…” he pauses, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the idea. Vanessa looks at him. “What if we shared the bed?”

“Share the bed?”

“Like I sleep on this side.” He points to the side closest to him. “And you sleep on that side?”

“Would you be okay with that?” Vanessa asks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, waving off her concern. “I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m fine. It’s not a bad idea, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Mike shrugs. “I mean as long as you’re okay with it, I’ll be fine.” And he would be. A lot of his discomfort comes from sleeping somewhere unfamiliar. Sure, he’s slept in a lot of different places, but never this far from home. After Garrett was taken, he grew to fear being away from his parents (and later Abby) for long periods of time.

“Okay,” she says, slipping off her shoes and climbing under the covers. She looks up at Mike expectantly. “Well?”

He takes a deep breath. “I have to call the house. The babysitter is probably expecting me back soon, and Abby will be upset if I don’t say goodnight.”

She nods, snuggling deeper into the covers. 

-x-x-x-

Mike slinks back into the room. Thankfully, both the babysitter and Abby understood his predicament. Abby told him goodnight - which was sweet. And then, she started teasing Mike about his apparent “crush” (like he’s in middle school or something), to which he hung up.

He loves his little sister, but sometimes she drives him up a wall.

He slips into the bed, curling up. The blankets are scratchy and the pillows are lumpy, but Mike would be lying if he said he wasn’t half-asleep by the time his head hit the bed.

Next to him, Vanessa giggles. 

“What?” He mutters, eyelids drooping. 

“Nothing. Goodnight, Mike.”

“Yeah….goodnight to….” Before he can finish his thought, Mike is fast asleep. And not long after, Vanessa follows suit. 

For the first time in a long time, their dreams are pleasant. 

-x-x-x-

Mike is used to waking up with someone hanging off him. It’s a natural part of being a big brother. First with Garrett-who he shared a room with-and then with Abby, who always preferred his company, even before mom died and dad left. 

What he’s not used to is the other person being taller than him, and having their chin rest on his head. 

He panics, jerking backwards. Sadly, the bed's not big enough for the amount of panicking his sleep-addled brain is doing, and Mike very nearly tumbles to the floor. At the last possible second, a pair of arms save him, pulling him back. 

Vanessa looks at him. He turns on his side, staring at her. 

Without another word, they go right back to snuggling. Sure, it might be awkward in the morning, but that would be the future-them’s problem. 

They fall asleep, curled up right next to each other. If their fingers wind up intertwined, or they end up snuggling in their sleep, well then, that’s no one else’s business but theirs.

[dsireland86]

Great News!!! I've finally finished my Nicholas One-Shot, "Lovesong"! Posting it tomorrow after I quickly edit it. I'm soooo sorry it took me as long as it has. Life has been CRAZY!

If you want to be tagged in it let me know

Snippet below the cut :)

Nick’s eyes have always been the focal point for me. They were the first thing I ever noticed about him. They way they look at me, see me, they just make me dive right into him, head first with no regret. We stare into each other for a moment and just when I think he’s about to get up, he lifts my shirt up instead and begins to drag his hands over my belly and under the waistband of my leggings, making me gasp. He looks up at me with a smirk and tugs at my leggings, until he has them partially down. 

“Nick, what the fuck!” I’m so scared someone’s going to catch us. 

“Relax, Y/N. We’re good. It’s late. No one’s coming back tonight.” He gets up off me and pulls the privacy curtain that loops entirely around his work space closed. 

“Better,” he asks? I nod, giving him a shy smile. “Are you going to leave me like this?” pointing towards my bottom half. Nick pulls out his phone and my eyes grow wide. “Don’t you dare, Ruffilo,” I scold him. But he just smiles and snaps a few pictures of me before I’m able to do anything. “For memories sake,” he smirks. “No!” I cry, throwing my head back, laughing. Leaving me exactly how I am, Nick begins to clean up my finished tattoo, working carefully, but quickly so we can continue where he left off.  After covering it properly and removing his gloves,  he slides over to me on his rolling stool and removes my leggings entirely. Spreading my legs and exposing my soaking wet pussy to his eyes alone, Nicholas licks his lips and whistles. “Really, We’re doing this here?” Not that I minded. I just wanted to hear him tell me how badly he wanted me. He looks up at me and grins while grabbing his phone and after a few seconds of waiting, our song begins to play over the bluetooth speaker. My heart stops beating and the feeling that swallows me up is indescribable. “Nick,” I whisper as “Lovesong” by the Cure plays, filling the room with a haunting aurora.  “Relax my love. Embrace the feeling,” he says convincingly, rising to his feet and pulling me down until my ass is partially off the chair. He sinks to his knees as I grip the sides of the chair in anticipation of what’s about to happen. When his tongue licks up in between my folds a loud, unintentional cry escapes me, and as he begins to work up my pussy, I embrace the feeling  rushing through me like he told me to and refuse to hold back any sound or word that wants to escape. 

[sschmendrick]

So what's a line array ?

(Reminder that I am literally just finishing school therefore I still have a lot to learn and what I may be saying might be erroneous at times from a misunderstanding of some audio notions)

Well before we get in the nitty gritty of things, let's visualise what we're talking about. You see the big column (line) of speakers on the left of the stage ? That's a line array : (picture by me of Bons Sons Festival)

They are a solution to the need for louder systems (and more problems). As concerts got bigger, the concert halls became bigger and bigger as well, however there's a terrible thing in audio called attenuation and that's when the sound level diminishes because of the air resistance. The further a soundwave goes, the less powerful it becomes and the less you hear it. There's a very simple equation for that : number of dB (sound level) lost = 20log(distance). It means you would lose 32 dB in 40m, that's a lot !

There's a real need for louder system. And at first we had the Wall of Sound. A monster made of speakers, stacked on top of each other, up to 10m (32 feet) tall. This is the grandpa of line arrays.

There is a problem however. If the simple solution to "one speaker alone cannot produce enough sound for a whole crowd" seems to be "well just put more on top of it", this doesn't take into account the fact that the soundwaves produced by one speaker will interact with the soundwaves produced by another speaker and this will result in overlapping zones where it either adds the two (bigger sound), or substract one from the other (holes in the spectrum). This leads to using more speakers than necessary to cover those holes.

If these speakers could create a cohesive line front then you wouldn't need as much speakers. This means you want them to act as ONE speaker : as one SOURCE. What you need is for your line array to act like a line source.

In the early 90s Christian Hail (founder of L-Acoustics) determined the physical conditions needed for a line array to have a coherent wavefront. There are 5 criterias to the WST (Wavefront Structure Technology). If a line array conforms to all 5 then it will behave like a line source and be of great help for large concert halls and open air events. Nowadays a lot of softwares have been developped (usually one per manufacturer) to help with all the calculations : you only need to create a model of the venue in the software, select what speakers you are using and then give a maximum height (and other information that you have) and you can visualize how each speaker will behave, where will their energy be focalized, how they will interact with heat map and a lot of cool stuff.

(yes I know ArrayCalc is for d&b but it's the one I used the most at school)

Anyway the 5 criterias :

First we have the ARF, the Active Radiating Factor. This says that the wavefront created needs to be bigger or at least 80% equal to the total length of the line.

Then you have the STEP. The Step is the distance between two sources's acoustic centers. It should not be bigger than half of the wavelength of the highest frequency producessed. For example if the higher frequency produced is 100Hz (3.4m), then the distance between two speakers should not exceed 1.7m. However this becomes 0.17m for 1kHz and 0.01m for 16kHz. It becomes apparent that for higher frequencies it is almost physicaly impossible to have the correct step.

The third criteria treats of the wavefront's curve. It can be accepted, as it will natureally be when created by a speaker. The wavefront being curved there will be a slight difference in the distance needed to get to the audience between the top of the curve (the highest point) and the sides who are curved. However there is a limitation on how curved it can be. It can be calculated and it must be inferior to 1/4th of the highest wavelength. Waveguides were created to help "sculpt" that wavefront.

The last two criterias focus on keeping the line source's angle variable without losing the coherence of the wavefront.

The fourth criteria takes into account the sound level attenuation according to the distance. To keep the attenuation at 3dB per doubling of the distance, the angle between each speaker must be inversely proportional to the distance to the adience. This means the further away the audience member is, the more closed the angles between the speakers are.

And finally the last criteria determines the maximum angle between each element of the line array. This is to avoid the holes in the audio spectrum. It is an equation that I'm not going to try and write on tumblr.

Taken right from my thesis haha.

If the line array agrees to all these criterias it can be considered a line source. Line arrays usually take care of the audience further away on the ground and also in the balconies/stories/heights. There is a real need to understand how far your stage speakers will produce good sound (especially with all the fills you have on the front of the stage) and adapt the placement of your line arrays (or its general curvature).

Its line aspect also influences the shape of the hot spot. For a lone speaker the hot spot is going to be near it, at it's acoustic center, then attenuated in a spherical manner. For a line array, it will produce a hot spot in a line. This transforms the heat map. That's how you can have big concert halls with a general sound level that is very homogenous (the people in the front still have the most sound level/sound pressure). Understanding how they work allows you to create blind spots voluntarily (for example because of architecture).

Line arrays are almost present at every concerts now. But be careful with the fingers when setting them up !!

[merryfortune]

Life After High School

Written for Femslash February 2024 and the Sweetheart Bingo from @sweetspicybingo

Day 10. Ever After

Title: Life After High School

Ship: Damselshipping | Anzu/Asuka

Word Count: 

Universe: GX - Canon Compliant

Rating: T

Tags: Meet Cute, Post-Canon, Flirting, Affection, Developing Relationship, Pre-Relationship

   America really was everything that it was cracked up to be, Asuka discovered. It was a place of duality, of extremes in city life. It was completely different to her home country and for all its beauty and all its faults, she was glad that she had migrated there for university.

   New York City, in particular, embodied this as it was the locale in which she studied and ergo knew best but just from this taste of the Big Apple, Asuka felt she knew all the country, all the states now.

   The iconic spots of NYC - the Rockefeller Centre, the statue of Lady Liberty, Times Square, and Central Park - really were iconic! They were befuddling and dazzling, they took Asuka’s breath away as she revelled in what monuments to the modern American ideal they were.

   Then there were the cons. There was to any place, any situation. The streets sometimes reeked and the subway was terrifying with how crowded it was and how the speakers never enunciated properly. The rats were big, too. 

   But even so, Asuka enjoyed her time in America tremendously. Though here she was the outsider. Not the inside of the upper echelon like she had become the focal point of during high school.

   Life truly did exist after high school, amazingly enough. The ever after of it had Asuka enraptured. For the most part.

   Her only complaint though was… Asuka would have liked more freedoms to enjoy given that the United States of America were meant to be the land of the free. But she had the complete opposite problem of anyone else in their coming of age movie era.

   She wasn’t getting into trouble. She was staying far, far away from it and having no fun. By other people’s standards. Not so much her own as she very much considered her psychology textbook to be a hot Friday night date.

   America was, allegedly, a place where anything was possible, any transformation of the self and attainment of glory. To feel like she was really pulling herself up by the bootstraps like Americans dreamed. It was kind of hard to feel that way when she had a rich family back home who wanted to nanny her still even from across oceans.

   Asuka wanted to take up a pure and unadulterated mantle of responsibility. She was cooking her own meals and making her own choices, albeit really boring ones like studying until ten o’clock and being in bed by ten-thirty but still. Her parents were blowing up her phone asking how she was going, if she was settling in, and all that.

   With their constant supervision, Asuka couldn’t even laugh at jokes about NYC rent being stupid high because hers was handled by her parents still. It wasn’t even a bad apartment, either. Close to school and close to the night life, too. Not that Asuka took much advantage of the latter. She was a studious young woman after all.

   Something her brother would lament in particular. He knew, for sure, that if he were in her shoes, he would be tearing up the town and painting it red. So that’s why he took it upon himself to help her out.

   “I got you a ticket to a Broadway show,” Fubuki said over the phone, “go out and enjoy it. I picked the one about a girl who studies hard to get into Harvard, even,. Just for you, sissy-pooh.”

   “Sounds like a distraction to me.” Asuka said. “I’m kinda done with the tourist stuff. I want to try and be more… local.”

   “Too bad, check your emails. You will find one ticket to Legally Blonde. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

   “My birthday’s already come and gone.” Asuka grouched. “And you sent me a care package for it already.” She huffed in addition.

   “It came from the bottom of my heart regardless. Please. Take one night off.” Fubuki begged her.

   “Fine. Only because I don’t want you wasting your money on me.” Asuka said and that was that.

   She was going. She had never even heard of the play Legally Blonde before nor the movie. She was kind of behind on any and all pop culture, at home and abroad but sure. Looking over the synopsis, Asuka kind of dug it since she was also a smart blonde. Fubuki knew her well, bless. 

   Asuka checked her emails and the seat he had booked for her was decent, too. Not too close but not in the boonies either. A nice respectable seat in the middle. The only thing that really sent her for a surprise was that the showing was in three days’ time. Yup, trust Fubuki to let her know at the last minute. She didn’t even have anything to wear so she had better find something nice and quick-smart.

   Though a trip to the mall the next day did fix that. Maybe getting her into the mall crawl was also part of Fubuki’s dastardly plan to get Asuka somewhere other than her house or her university’s lecture hall.

   Night of the show, she put on a nice pair of slacks and matched it with a varsity, vest-cut sweater. Perfect for a brisk New York night on Broadway and made her way there via public transport, setting off so she could sit in her seat for at least twenty minutes in advance.

   That extra twenty minutes she had allocated for herself came in clutch, too, because it was incredibly busy being debut night. Asuka bought herself some snacks and also bought some merchandise, too. Something practical - a tote bag which she could use as a book bag - and reasoned it was good to show support for local acts.

   She read in the small print of the program that the majority of the performers were all New Yorkers in one form or another. Some had moved here specifically for the job, others moved with it, the professionals playing the big name characters.

   With a couple minutes to spare before curtains open, Asuka sat in her seat and waited. She was more excited than she thought she would be but the atmosphere was infectious. The passion the performers had, their nerves, emanated from the wings and mixed with the joy of her fellow performance goers. Asuka found herself getting swept up in the zeitgeist of it and soon enough was rewarded for it.

   She had a fabulous time to say the least.

   Asuka didn’t know much about theatre or performance but she felt that everyone pulled their weight. There wasn’t a dull moment, she split her sides laughing at the comedy and found her toe-tapping to gaudy musical numbers. She found herself getting genuinely invested in seeing the protagonist succeed and one-up her ex-boyfriend and find herself in this strange new world of law without compromising herself.

   It was excellent and that was just the main cast members!

   The back-up dancers and chorus were great, too, and curiously enough, there was one Asuka kept her eye on. It was for no particular reason but she was fantastic. There was this one brunette dancer with striking blue eyes, they loved to put her in different scenes. She seemed like a hard worker and she was working hard, the one everyone else seemed to rely on to be in time with the music. 

   Asuka made a game of trying to spot her through the costume changes…

   It was embarrassing but by the end of it, Asuka couldn’t help herself. She didn’t just applaud the performers and crew for their effort, she gave them a standing ovation. She was the only one in her row who did and she did cop some side-eye for it but that just made her clap harder, until her hands turned red and raw. They deserved it! 

   Though contrary to how enthusiastically she clapped, Asuka was somewhat eager to leave. She had a bedtime after all. Even if she was an adult.

   After the show, as Asuka was leaving the venue and made it onto the glitzy street, she saw one of the dancers out of the corner of her eye. Asuka didn’t want to dilly-dally, she wanted to get straight home because she was boring like that but when saw that young woman, she knew she had to say hello. To be polite, compliment her on the hard work she had put into her performance. It was only right.

   She just hoped that she wasn’t interrupting anything important. Asuka glanced her over - her long, lithe legs and her hand by them which was… holding a pack of gum. Huh. Not a cigarette like she expected. She thought New Yorkers were the hard boiled type but looking closer again, Asuka could see her chew.

   So, holding onto the tote bag that she bought at the merch stand, to help support the theatre, Asuka walked up to her, “Hello.”

   “Hi.” she said, trying to figure out if she was talking to an obsessive fan or not.

   Asuka’s awkwardness as she muddled through the etiquette of the post-show daze made it more difficult than it had to be. And Asuka was aware. She could see the dancer balance friendly and guarded in the blue of her eyes.

   “I, um, just wanted to say. You were excellent tonight.” Asuka said. “I’ve never said this about any dancer but I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

   “Aw, thanks.” she said then got up from where she sat. “It's my first time getting told that.”

   “Really? But you're so talented, you must have practised so hard.” Asuka gawked.

   “This was, um, my first production where I wasn’t an understudy.” she said. “I’ll remember this, thank you.”

   “Me too.” Asuka said and bowed.

   The dancer had a flash of recognition in her eyes at Asuka’s courtesy.

   “Um, excuse me, can I ask a personal question?” she asked.

   “Sure?” Asuka said as she pulled back.

   “Are you Japanese?” she asked.

   “I am. My name is Tenjoin Asuka, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Asuka said and bowed again for good measure but this time…

   The dancer did the same. “I thought so, I’m Japanese, too.” she said then introduced herself also, “The pleasure’s all mine, my name is Mazaki Anzu, I’m from Domino City.”

   “Ah,” Asuka gasped, “I've visited before. It’s a lovely and exciting place,” she laughed, “would visit again. You are very fortunate to be able to call it your hometown.”

   Anzu giggled and Asuka smiled. They paused, studied each other, their looks, their demeanour and that moment of guardedness from before, and awkwardness, too, melted away. They felt a comfortable silence in the beat before Anzu spoke again.

   “My co-workers typically go drinking after a show but it’s not really my scene. I get the vibe that the hard-rock party isn’t your scene either.” Anzu said and Asuka felt her ears burn.

   “I-I am.” Asuka replied.

   She had to be mistaken. She simply had to be. She was infamously dense but she could swear that she was being flirted with right now.

   “Well…” Anzu said, dragging out the syllables in that one word. “Do you want to hang out some more? Go somewhere? Your choice, of course.”

   Asuka felt her heart leap out of her chest. Nope. Not mistaken. Though she couldn’t believe her ears. Her mouth dried as her throat clogged with words. Miraculously, despite all that, she did muster a reply.

   “Sounds like fun.” she said. “Want to, uh, go to mine? I’ve got light refreshments. Tea, coffee…”

   “I’d love a coffee right about now.” Anzu said and that settled it.

   So, together, they set off. Asuka took Anzu back to hers via the same route she had come. She had never brought a stranger back to her apartment before and so, her heart pounded. Not that she thought Anzu was a bad person, or anything, quite the opposite.

   Anzu was lovely. She had a warm glow about her and was oh so charming. 

   It was… It felt risky. Very much out of Asuka’s comfort zone but right about now, as she unlocked the front door to her apartment, that was where she wanted to be. She heard a click and then turned the handle.

   “Nice place you got.” Anzu said as she peered into the darkness.

   “Thanks.” Asuka said and she flipped a switch.

   “Even nicer with the lights on.” Anzu joked.

   Asuka agreed mutably as Anzu stepped inside first.

   In doing so, it made Asuka’s own apartment feel oddly surreal and unknown to her as she allowed Anzu inside. They had a quick tour but it was mostly unimportant as they just made a beeline for her living room.

   Together, they saddled up on the lounge in front of a turned off TV and Asuka’s collection of coffee table books and had a chat whilst her kettle warmed. It was well past midnight by now but both were craving a coffee to go with those hardcover books and, of course, the conversation, too.

   They went back and forth getting to know one another. Two Japanese nationals in New York City, more or less fresh out of high school, they had plenty to talk about and talking came easily to them. The light conversation slipping into deep and meaningful territory in a matter of minutes (which were actually hours by the time they caffeinated themselves).

   “That’s crazy, I can’t believe it.” Anzu said.

   “Six degrees of separation is what they call it.” Asuka chuckled.

   “When I’m in town next, I’ll have to tell Grandpa that I met his friends from Duel Academy then.” Anzu joyfully agreed.

   “So, um, what brings you so far away from Domino City?” Asuka asked.

   Anzu stared at her, a brow quirked.

   “You know what I mean!” Asuka squealed. “Like has dancing on Broadway always been your dream or would you have been happy on an idol’s stage or… community theatre.”

   “Broadway has always been my dream.” Anzu replied. “Ever since I was a little girl, it was Broadway or bust.”

   Asuka exclaimed, murmuring Japanese under her breath. She was impressed. For so long, she didn’t have that drive. That direction. It made her a little bit jealous.

   When she recovered from the absolute awe she had for Anzu’s motivation, she had another question, “You said tonight was your first time as first string, does it stop there or will the next time Legally Blonde plays, will you be Elle Woods?”

   “I can’t sing or act to save my life.” Anzu said. “But that’s fine. Dancing is my passion, it's all I want to do.”

   “Wow.” Asuka said. 

   “Besides,” Anzu harrumphed, “they prefer Elle to be a natural blonde so I think I wouldn’t be considered anyway. But you…” She lifted her hand off her coffee cup and reached towards Asuka. She ran her hand through Asuka’s hair and she could feel her soul ascend as attraction ignited from just the sensation of her fingertips. “You could get that part on looks alone.”

   “I-I haven’t got a musical bone in my body.” Asuka stammered, flustered.

   “We can’t all be the triple threat,” Anzu agreed, “but beauty and brains, that’s more than enough for most.”

   “Y-You are also very beautiful, Anzu.” Asuka complimented her.

   “Thanks.” Anzu replied.

   She gave Asuka a wink as she drew her hair closer to her face. Anzu kissed her knuckles through the strands of Asuka’s hair and relished Asuka’s crimson hued expression. She knew all too well that this was Asuka’s first time being treated like this.

   Her heart raced within her chest, her mind too. Anzu was all too flirty with her and for the first time, Asuka had someone she wanted to be flirty with. All in all culminating in what was truly a night of nights for Asuka…

[the-clockwork-three]

Day 11: Simple Phrases

I have decided to read the lesson aloud so you can hear how the words are said as I do not know IPA and trying to spell the words out phonetically was not working. If you would prefer I used to format of "[Irish], [English], [Irish but slower]" for the words/phrases, just say so.

Tags: @bella-daonna @rusalkaandtheshepherdgirl @unseeliethot @charlataninred @grimalkinsquill (ask to be added or removed0

Written version below the cut

A short prologue: First of all, I am not a fluent speaker. Although I am not that bad at gaeilge, I am in no way, shape, or form a gaeilgeoir. This is all fairly basic information, but I am not completely immune from making mistakes. 

Second of all: Irish has three main dialects, Ulster, Munster, and Connacht. I was taught through the school system by people from all over the country, and my dialect is somewhat like patchwork. If you, or anyone else, pronounce words slightly differently than I do, it's probably because we’re speaking different dialects, and that's fine. 

Third of all: while Irish uses the latin alphabet, it is unfair to assume it obeys by the same phonics as English. The most glaring examples of this are fadá, or these things áéí��ú. Fadá [lit. long] lengthen vowel sounds turning ah (a) to aw (á) and so on so forth. Also, if a consonant is followed by a h, then one exhales a little harder when saying the consonant, therefore softening it. The most obvious appearance of this is “bh” which makes a “v” sound. Or a “w” sound because most consonants make two different sounds depending on the vowels around it, which we shall not get into today. 

The first thing you need to know in any language is how to say hello. In Irish, the most common greeting is “Dia duit”, which is literally “God be with you”. However, if someone greets you with dia duit, the way you respond is “Dia is Muire duit” [lit. God and Mary be with you], and as the third person greeting you reply with “Dia is Muire is Padraig duit” or you can replace Padraig with any saint of your choosing. However if you are talking to a group larger than that you can use “Dia diaobh”. 

Some more informal greetings include “Haigh” which means hi, or “Aon sceal?” which means “any stories” and is basically what's up. You can also skip straight to asking how someone is.

“Conas atá tú?” is “how are you”, to which you can answer “Táim go maith,” or “Táim ceart go leor” which are “I’m well” and "I'm alright” respectively. You can reflect any question asked of you with a good “And you?” which is “Agus tusa?”

If you are asked your name with “Cad is ainm duit?” you can respond with “____ is ainm dom” for “my name is____”. If you are taking the initiative to introduce yourself without being asked, you can also use “Is mise ____” which is “I am ____”. 

The basis of saying goodbye is the word “Slán”, which is derived from sláinte (health), so it is wishing someone good health. However, most people either say “Slán leat” or “slán go fóil” which are “heath be with you,” and “goodbye for now”. Which variation you use is completely up to you. 

You probably already know that Éire is Ireland and gaeilge is the Irish language. So a Gaeilgeoir is someone who is fluent in Irish, a gaeltach is an area where people speak Irish in day to day life, and a gaelscoil is a school where everything is taught through Irish. It is also handy to know the word for English: bearla. So “As gaeilge” and “As bearla” are “in Irish'' and “in English” respectively. 

You will always need a few bits and bobs words when you’re starting out. “Agus” is “and”, “nó” is “or”, and “ach” is “but”. You can do a lot in this world with three good conjunctions. Please is “le do thoil”, and thank you is “go raibh maith agat”. You will see “Fáilte” in a lot of tourist destinations, as it means "welcome”. And “Slainte!” is “cheers,” which we saw above also means health. 

Finally, while you may be happy to tell people “Tá cupla focal agam” meaning “I have a few words (of Irish)”, there is no shame in saying “Ní thuigim” or “I don’t understand”, or asking them to repeat “as bearla, le do thoil”. Learning new skills is admirable and most people understand that. 

I want to also do a seanfhocail a day, for fancy points. Seanfhocail are idiomatic phrases, and literally means “old words”. Today’s seanfhocail is the classic: “Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin” which is “There’s not hearth like your own hearth” or “There's no place like home.”

See you tomorrow for everyone’s favourite: mutations (urú agus séimhiú)! Slán libh!

[goldenmusicmoments]

Hazlett's Debut Bloom Mountain Is A Beautiful Exploration Of Emotions:

Hazlett just released his debut album January this year. However I happened to discover it during the second half of the year. I feel as though I did stumble upon it nearing its release, however didn’t bother checking it out. So when he found his way on to my feed on TikTok I decided I might as well give the record a listen. It turned out to be a magnificent experience, one where there is no fear of feeling all sorts of emotions. He’s vulnerable in his delivery and really puts forth his feelings in a beautiful way. It was vital that you all were taken on this journey as well and be blown away by a release that surely stands out from the crowd this year. Now lets get lost in Hazlett’s world and don’t be afraid of the emotions he wants you to feel.

The album opens with the guitar led ‘Please Don’t Be’ and the instrumentation gives you this feeling of urgency or being on edge. His tender vocal delivery paired with the grandness of the production gives this track a feeling of vastness. Here you find him hoping that the person of interest isn’t in love with someone else. You feel that he is in a sombre mood through his vocal delivery and the lyrics paint such a picture. A strong start that highlights his talent of putting forth emotion and being a beautiful songwriter, really setting the tone for the rest of the record.

We then move on to ‘Even If It’s Lonely’ which follows on from the previous track with similarities in production and continuity to the journey he is taking you on. The moment his vocal comes in you are captivated and feel the sadness in his delivery. Here he yarns to be a part of the persons life. He says that he’d be content with sleeping on the floor instead of the bed, as he lets them know he had hopes of being a little bit more. He feels that his feelings won’t be reciprocated in the way that he had hoped and that if it is for the better then he’d be willing to distance himself. It revolves around the common thing we all desire which is to be loved. The song closes out on a voice note in which the female speaker shares what’s on her mind. She shares the wisdom her mother passed on to her. Its a touching end to a heart aching moment. Loneliness is hard on a person and oft even admitting it can be tough. 

On ‘My Skin’ the acoustic guitar takes the forefront as he keeps to the sombre tone he’s set. Hazlett seems to be dealing with the person of interest moving on, he finds himself struggling to let go, whilst the other has already gotten over it by the looks of it. The sight of her with someone else hurts him and though he knows that moving on is what will let him heal, he doesn’t want to let go just yet. As the track progresses you hear the bass come in and the tambourine peaking through certain moments. There is a shift in the production that closes out the track and provides for quite the transition into the next. He holds on to the guitar on the heartbreaking ‘Everybody Hates Me’ that you find yourself completely encapsulated by, especially when his ‘OooOoh’s’ come in. The focal point here is friendship and how he felt that his friends may either have been busy or grown weary, as he feels this distance between them. Which in turn made him feel as though they hated him, this entirety that maybe something about him had pushed them away. However he comes to realise that they were going through their own issues and he lets them know that he’s there for them. The lift in the chorus makes it feel as though the track takes up the space around you. 

We get a smooth transition into ‘Skeletons’ which now switches things up by featuring the piano. He now takes the focus away from how he feels as he observes the person of interest. He lets them know that he can sense that something is up, even though they are putting on a front that everything is okay. He wants them to know that he is there for them. He clearly has been paying a lot of attention to them as he’s got a grasp on things they do when they aren’t being honest with how they are feeling. There is warmth to this track as it feels like arms opening up for an embrace. This tender and caring moment that really touches your heart. On ‘Oh Downhill’ things seem to shift and the prodding production with the strum of an electric guitar string really gives of this feeling of unease. He now finds himself feeling confused as to why he ever cared for the person of topic. He realises that they did him harm, and yet he the one apologising. Pointing to an unbalanced relationship where he was giving more than the other. His ‘Oooh’s’ heighten the feel of this track and the outro closes things out on a chaotic note.

Now we reach ‘Part Time Lovers’ and he is clearly hurting, to such point that even in a party setting he finds himself in tears. In the chorus he then reveals that he is tired of having to change constantly for this person, however he doesn’t seem to want to completely let go as he says ‘Maybe we’re better off as part time lovers’. He also points out that he found it sad that the person of interest didn’t pay enough attention to notice that he was hurting. The verses are tender, but when we reach the chorus the production lifts and that vast feeling finds its way to the front. You find yourself lost in the chorus and then the track closes out with the repetition of ���Alone we wonder’ which could be him consoling himself that in the end we all wonder alone. Then the guitar finds its way back on ‘Hesitate’ and it is the only track with a featured artist (OSKA) giving it a conversational feel. Here they sing about them running away from their issues rather than confronting them, whilst putting on this facade of everything is okay when they are out and about. In the chorus they prompt each other to be open with how they really feel and wonder why they can’t seem to break things of even though they are well aware that this is the end of the relationship. The vocal delivery during the chorus makes it seem like a desperate plea for a resolution. Hazlett continues to pull at your heart strings and demands that you feel the pain he feels.

‘Tell Me What You Dream About’ lifts in its pace particularly in the chorus, though its upbeat nature may make you want to move to it, it still manages to retain the emotional essence he wants to keep exploring. The guitar strings that are the centre point of the production make you feel like you are floating and then the bass comes in for the chorus. The bass then lingers for the rest of the track and you find yourself tapping your feet to its groove. Here he wants to really know where her mind wonders and he’d give everything to get the insight. Judging by the verses it seems she’s up and down all the time in regards to her mood or how she is feeling. It doesn’t seem to be a healthy relationship or an ideal one to be in. The track closes out on a lengthy instrumental with flickers of faded vocalisations.

The album ends with ‘To Sleep In A King Alone’ where it seems the two have finally fully detached. However it’s hitting him a lot harder than he thought it would and that it feels rather lonely. Things are a lot different than how they’d imagined them to turn out and this seems like new territory even though they’ve been here before. The production at the end of each chorus gives this sense of unease to the track. The chorus in itself makes you feel like you are drifting on his vocal. Again a dragged out outro with vocalisation that really adds so much to the atmosphere of the track. An ending that may not necessarily be a happy one, but it seems to be a much needed one as attachment was causing more pain than anything else. 

Overall this album does what Hazlett intended so well as it fully immerses you in an emotional experience. It is a journey through different stages of a relationship that begins with him wanting the person so bad, to then there being ups and downs. Though more downs he still finds it hard to completely let go. In the end however they face the inevitable and that is that the two have to go their separate ways. As that is the only way they’ll heal and rise from the heartache. From the beginning it’s clear that he was the one putting in more than the other person. The mood of the record stays consistent and it is sonically cohesive. He’s got such a great talent for putting forth emotions through his vocal delivery as he makes sure to have you feel each and every lyric. The production gives the record a feeling of vastness. This record really is a stellar effort and one that is a must listen from this years releases. If you haven’t yet given it a listen then make sure you do.

Hazlett also just dropped an extended play titled ‘Goodbye To The Valley Low’ which is another worthwhile listen. An artist to watch and it will be exciting to see how he grows with each record. Seeing the popularity artists like Noah Kahan or Zach Bryan have gained recently, there is no doubt their fans will find a place in their hearts for Hazlett. As they do share similarities, but aren’t exactly the same, each managing to stand on their own. We’ve seen a wave of phenomenal new artist come out and here is to hoping that they get the recognition they deserve. 

[peter-author]

On Balance It Is Worth It

The job of the various military, space and aviation industries rarely embodies good public relations. For example, the Apollo 11 mission to the moon was to depart without a TV camera until a last-minute suggestion from Arthur C. Clarke to Brian Duff (Public Affairs Officer at NASA) that he couldn’t wait to see live images from the moon. That prompted a hurried install of a fixed focal length, fixed aperture B&W camera to the Lunar Lander leg which was already atop the Saturn 5 ready to go to the launch pad! Without that comment, after quarantine on return, you’d have had to wait 30 days to see the stills and 16mm film they shot. Gee, I wonder if people would have believed they were really there.

NASA is not very good at tooting its own achievements. Take the Hubble Space telescope for example. Scientists will tell you it uniquely helps us understand gravity and the fundamental laws of the physical world and that the future on Earth scientific results will help shape our world. But has NASA bothered to tell you that the mammogram and computer spectro-analysis many women now undergo was a direct spin-off, saving thousands with earlier detection of cancers? Add to that micro-endoscopes, 50% improvement to all CCDs made in the past 10 years (yes, that camera in your mobile phone uses Hubble technology), and if you wondered how they can make the computer brains so small, you have only to thank Hubble-developed microlithography—a method for printing tiny circuitry in computer chips.  I think Hubble is worth it, don’t you?

Apollo was groundbreaking is so many ways, it’s easy to begin to make a long list: The retractable roof in the NRG Stadium in Houston (the Texans stadium) is only possible with Apollo cloth material; Moon boots; the first computer chips and circuit boards; computer code used in every computer on earth; firemen’s safety suits; silver-ion water purification technology now makes all those giant aquariums possible; all your burglar house-movement detectors; solar panels now in use worldwide; implantable heart pulse regulator; cordless drills and tools; the micro-radar in your car to help prevent accidents; modern dialysis blood purification; the dust-buster; digital imaging technology developed into CAT, MRI, radiography, and microscopy in every hospital; all the way to mylar balloons and reflectors. I think Apollo was worth it, don’t you?

Think the Shuttle program and the International Space Station were expensive experiments? The medical and basic human physiology studies alone were groundbreaking and not feasible in Earth’s gravity. Everything from the safety of the food we eat every day to weather prediction allowing for saving countless lives. Of course, there’s memory foam mattresses; baby formula enhanced Omera-3; the mobile phone (the glass, the LCD, the alloy of the case, the programming, the camera, the microphone, the speaker…); precision GPS in your car and every plane flying; Shuttle shock absorbers now enable modern bridge design; invisible braces for your teeth; voltage controllers saving 30% of power in large machines (and every electric car); heart transplant cardiac pumps; Aerogel in your winter coats; and 3-d hologram displays (yes, those goggles gamers are using) – to name only a few new commercial advancements.  I think the Shuttle and Space Station were worth it, don’t you?

Until NASA and other government funded programs realize that public awareness of the benefits of such investments are critical for the public taxpayer’s support, you’ll rarely get an update. In case you do want to know, there’s a good resource here: facebook.com/NASAspinoff.