#I could list other examples but that would just pad things out
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Reflecting on Arknights arc 2, or more specifically Episodes 10-13: overall I respect what they've been aiming for in this arc, but I don't think they've quite stuck the landing.
I like the focus on the horrors of war from all its angles. It's bleak and nihilistic, and challenging to handle, but it fits the story of Arknights well. Both understanding the reasons why these things happen, while at the same time understanding them as pointless tragedies. There's no individual plotline I really dislike on its own.
However, I feel they tried to fit a few too many such perspectives into the one story. In a similar vein, they tried to cram in too much Cool Stuff. You end up with more material than you need to construct the core plot, which then leads to things sitting awkwardly and even more filler being added to connect everything together. Meanwhile, the actual important plot threads get stalled out. It just doesn't come together.
While writing this I caught myself feeling reassured that Ep14 looks like it might be a sequel to Babel as much as anything. For sure, I have hope this will be a good chapter. They nailed the landing on Ep8, after all. But that thought isn't exactly an endorsement of what came before.
#Arknights#You could probably cut 10-13 down to 3 chapters#Maybe spin Damazti+Golding off into a reel event#I could list other examples but that would just pad things out
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Alright then, may I request Cyno, Xiao and AlHaitham. S/o pranking them, you know that one period prank girlfriend do on their boyfriend?, telling them to go by her some pads with wings. To see what they actually get for her (like would they actually understand the assignment or actually got her pads with Chiken wings thinking that's what s/o meant) or even told them to buy non-existent feminine products for example "help me buy the Super Jumbo Tampons with Wings✨✨✨" that kind of stuff. This is just crack request, wanting to trick these innocent stoic guys hehe~ 😈😈😈 this can be a modern au if you want
The dividers I used are here
thank you SM for the request!!!! This is such a silly idea! There is a screenshot of the messages for each one, and then a written part below, so make sure you don’t miss that!
characters: Alathiam, Cyno, Xiao
includes: Crack, fluff
Alhathiam
“I’m home” Alhathiams voice sounds as he walked through the front door. He made his way into the living room, where you sat on the couch, reading a book. You looked up, seeing your boyfriend with a shopping bag in one hand, and a takeout box in the other.
“oh! Did you get me food too? You’re so sweet!” You cheered happily. He rose his eyebrows confused.
“yeah, the wings you wanted?” He confirmed, his face obviously filled with confusion. You paused for a moment, before realizing that he misinterpreted the request, you then started crackling out in laughter.
“y-you.. thought I mean.. HAhAhaHa! Chicken wings?!” You wheezed out.
“what..?”
“let me see the pads you got.” He nodded, handing you the package over. “Baby, look, here on the package, it says ‘winged’ that’s what I meant” you giggled, taking one out and showing him. “Here, these flaps wrap around to keep them in place.” He looked utterly embarrassed.
“yeah.. I knew that.. I- I.. uh just wanted food..” he tried to play it off.
“it’s okay! I’ll go get these put away and then we can cuddle and eat these!” Alhathiam nodded, ears still red.
Xiao
“Love” a voice suddenly appeared behind you, causing you to jump.
“Xiao! Hi” you sighed out. He fell into your arms, face hiding away from you.
“I’ve failed you..” he grumbled out. “I couldn’t find the feminin product you requested.” You laughed, feeling kinda bad.
“it’s okay sweetie, I was just joking with you! Now I feel bad…” you ran your hands gently through his hair.
“what.. why? I went to 5 different places,people staring at me rummaging through things, and being sad for a silly prank? You have no respect for the Adepti..” he huffed, letting go of you and crossing his arms.
“no Xiao! I’m sorry.. come here, we can cuddle.” You apologized. He just rolled his eyes.
“fine.. only for a bit. I’m a busty person.”
Cyno
Cyno trudged through the front door, and to you in a hurry, 3 bags in his hands. When he came bursting through your bedroom door, your eyes widened in concern.
“Cy, what?” You questioned.
“I’m sorry, I took so long because I went to like 10 places trying to find the ones you mentioned; but I couldn’t… so I just got a bunch of them, you could stack them!” He reasoned, putting the bags down on the bed, revealing MANY boxes of pads. Your eyes widened again in surprise, before you laughed.
“Cy, you don’t stack them for one, also I was pranking you..” your smile was wide. He was quite for a second.
“oh.. haha, darling, I left work! For a prank?!” He sighed. ”what? You could have said that you were working!” A frown appeared on your face.
“hmm, it’s okay, but what do we do with all of these?” He motioned to the pads.
“I’ll use those eventually.” You bummed out a response. “Why don’t we play TCG to make up for it” Cyno pondered your proposal.
”I suppose I could take the rest of the day off”
Hope this was good!
you can leave requests in the “ask me anything”
my list of fandoms is pinned in my blog.
#genshin impact#fanfic#cyno x reader#xiao x reader#oneshot#fluff#crack fic#al haitam x reader#xiao#alhaitham#cyno
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They were having a lovely cosy night. Some nonsense holodrama was on, the heater was blasting and Jedi Master and Time Traveller Plo Koon was idly scrolling through a pad contemplating a second glass of wine. From his own comfortable spot on the sofa next to him, his partner in time travel and Master of the Order Mace Windu sighed and shifted his feet of the caff table next to Plo’s own, not a moment before an alarm on his chrono went off.
Plo grunted questioningly at him, feeling uncharacteristically lazy and sleepy. The other man stretched as he stood up.
“Meeting with Cin about The Tournament” he mumbled back, gathering himself.
“Oh!”
Plo loved The Tournament. He’d missed it so much during the war, that first time round. The annual Coruscant Temple Sabre Tournament was something so special. Seeing aged Masters grumbling good naturedly trying to catch their breath, energetic young Knights teasing each other and Padawans gleefully egging each other on brought a sense of camaraderie and family that was lost forever once the war began.
“I’ll come with you” he decided, ignoring Mace’s surprised expression as he sat up with renewed vigour.
---
Plo tuned out as Mace and Cin Drallig, Battle Master extraordinaire, gestured at charts and catering costs on one of the benches in the corner of the main dojo. Neither seemed to mind his presence, Cin seemed unsurprised when they came as a pair.
While he left the boring logistics to the two senior Jedi he scrolled through the contenders list, comforted by the familiar names and intrigued by some interesting matches. It would be a lively affair.
He frowned, noticing something as he got to the Knights section.
Kab…
Kedib…
Kirin…
Krag…
He frowned further, checking the Senior Padawan section just in case.
Nope, not what he was looking for.
“Has Knight Kenobi not signed up for the tournament?” he asked loudly, interrupting the other two and not caring one bit. He got a pulse of mild irritation from Mace but interestingly, Cin simply let out a breath.
It wasn’t compulsory for every Jedi to take part in the tournament but there was certainly an obligation, particularly for Knights, to act as an example for their peers. To learn from each other and to inspire the next generation. It was just the Done Thing.
The Battle Master for the temple looked uncharacteristically perturbed.
“Kenobi…” he sat back and folded his thick arms, pausing, and Plo saw Mace’s face sharpen in stern worry.
“He’s been here… a lot, in the past few months. At funny times.” Cin said, clearly picking his words carefully. “I’ve been helping him along, but most of the time I’m not here. I only see his name on the sign in sheet at all hours of the night.” He explained slowly.
Plo and Mace exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.
“Hmm. He didn’t sign up last year I assume, for obvious reasons” Mace asked with raised eyebrows.
Cin nodded.
“He’s changed his form since then, I’ve tried to ask him about it a couple of times but you know how he is.” He had a familiar look of exasperation on his face. Plo knew it well. When he didn’t want to, there wasn’t a force in the Galaxy that could make Obi-Wan Kenobi talk. Plo remembered it only got worse with age, to the infuriation of Sith across the galaxy that first time around.
Mace sighed and leaned back.
---
The Master of the Jedi Order cursed to himself under his breath and barely resisted the urge to grumble at nothing. He knew Obi-Wan somehow managed to function on dangerously little sleep (at all ages, apparently) but he himself had never managed to master the skill and his mood was as dark as the Courscant sky outside, at 3rd hour. Plo had offered to go, but Mace had a worrying suspicion it would end in a cuddle and a nap rather than what was necessary.
He was trying not to dwell on how suspicious he looked, loitering outside the main Dojo at this time of night, when his quarry came quietly and around the corner apparently deep in thought.
23-year-old Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi came to an abrupt and (rather comical) startled stop.
“Master!”
“Good evening, or should I say, good morning, Obi-Wan” Mace made no move to step away from the door to the dojo, but neither towards the young man in front of him.
“I…Hello there, Master. What…” the young man faltered, clearly still trying to find his footing. “What…are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.
Mace noted he definitely wasn’t at his best. Obviously not as well put together as he was in the daylight hours, there was none of the usual perceptive glint behind his eyes, his hair had obviously been pushed hurriedly into place and his robe was nowhere to be seen.
Mace shrugged.
“Shall we?” he gestured to the door behind him, entering the dojo.
Obi-Wan looked at the door dubiously before following.
“So.”
They stood in the vast hall, facing each other. Mace was very conscious they had both taken up sparring positions. So be it.
“So” he repeated calmly. “Do you want to tell me why you are practicing at this force-forsaken hour or shall I beat it out of you?” he asked politely with a smile, shifting his stance a little.
The young mans eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you mean Master, the Dojos are open all hours, surely encouraging practice at all hours” came the similarly polite answer.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Fine.” He ignited his purple blade and assumed the opening stance of his favoured form, Vaapad.
“Come on then” he instructed the Knight. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a little in surprise upon realising his mentor was serious, but then were filled with resolve as he too changed his stance.
And then immediately Mace Windu had the breath knocked out of his chest when, instead of the classic Ataru that he’d come to associate with the young Obi-Wan (indeed, the form he had become known for after using it to defeat Darth Maul) he was instead faced with the dramatic stance of Soresu.
He cursed himself, Cin had mentioned it but seeing it was something he had not been prepared for.
Lightsabre parallel to the floor and left arm extended with fingers pointing towards him, for a split second it wasn’t vulnerable, unsure Knight Kenobi Mace was seeing, it was the fearsome Master Kenobi. The Master of Soresu, and his comrade in arms. He’d seen that stance in the very worst of situations and every time it meant hope and determination.
“...Master?”
He was snapped back to the present by the slightly awkward prompt from the young man in front of him.
He grunted, trying to find his mental footing again.
“Not all of us are at our best at third hour young Obi-Wan” he grumbled, gratified when he got the ghost of a smile in response.
“Now then, let’s begin. And we will be speaking when I win” Mace warned, very clearly the Master of the Order.
Obi-Wan said nothing, his lips thinning as the match began.
---
The Master was gratified to see the young knight was panting a little as he yielded the match. Mace hadn’t won against Master Kenobi very often, in that first time around. It was good to know he still had some years left to enjoy it.
But not long, he noted. The young Knight was not there yet of course, but it he was good. Incredibly good for a Jedi of his level, using a difficult form. Mace was impressed.
“That was impressive. Very impressive Obi-Wan” he said, clapping him on the back as they both made to sit on the benches around the side of the dojo, Obi-Wan seemingly having lost the energy that fuelled his usual stubbornness, he allowed himself to be led by Mace.
“You’ve changed form.” the elder Jedi pointed out, cutting straight to the point. It was too early for beating around the munjabush.
“I have.” The young man beside him was looking at the floor as he answered. Mace felt the atmosphere in the room dip, the force tingling in his ears.
“Why?”
There was a pause. Obi-Wan kept looking at the floor.
Mace sighed.
“I hope you know, Obi-Wan, that you can tell me anything.” He said gently, projecting trust and safety at him through the force.
His young companion looked up at him with a watery smile. He took a breath.
“After Qui-Gon, after Naboo” he started slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully “I kept trying…” he faltered, a faraway quality to his voice.
“Every time I started Ataru, I was back there behind the ray shields.” he said softly, looking down at the floor again. “After a bit of trial-and-error, it appeared to be a trigger for me, so I decided to change forms. Soresu seemed like a natural choice, I have a Padawan to defend now after all.”
Mace starred at him, finding himself once again at a loss. He knew Obi-Wan had changed forms at some point, but he’d never really given it much thought first. Lots of Knights experimented with new forms as soon as they were out of their Master’s shadow. But they generally didn’t do it incognito.
“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard? Coming here at all hours on top of everything else?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.
His companion cleared his throat.
“It was difficult, at first. I didn’t…didn’t want anyone to know in case…” He trailed off.
Understanding dawned for Mace.
“In case you couldn’t do it.” He clarified, dismayed when he got a silent nod in return.
“Obi-Wan” Mace didn’t quite know what to say, working very hard to release his complicated emotions into the Force before the suddenly fragile man next to him picked up on them. Not least his slightly irrational anger.
“Please, please tell me you didn’t think we’d reject you or punish you because you couldn’t pick up a lightsabre.” He asked with a groan. The young man looked up at him in shock at the judgement in Mace’s tone. Giving him his answer.
“Er…”
Mace turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are a talented, intelligent person who is an asset to the Order in more ways than I can list at this time in the morning. You are worth far more than your warrior skill” he took a breath, taking in the bewildered and slightly alarmed face next to him. “And I am sorry that that hasn’t been made clear to you.” He finished with a gentler tone, shame swelling slightly within him.
He felt a slight tug on his bond with Plo, the other Master picking up on the maelstrom he was feeling. They’d have to meditate later.
Obi-Wan obviously didn’t know what to say, and Mace was satisfied to let the words sink in for a moment.
“Do you think, perhaps, that it might be prudent for you to speak to someone about all this?” he suggested lightly. “We have an entire wing of Mind healers for a reason, my friend.”
Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip, looking achingly young.
“I don’t know” he said slowly. “Qui-Gon never really liked…” he trailed off again, looking at the floor.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Yes well, Force love him he was a good friend but Qui-Gon was a complicated man and let’s be honest, could be a bit of an idiot at times” he said, making sure his fondness for his old friend was obvious, pleased when it brought another watery smile out of his young friend.
“Maybe.” He admitted.
Mace decided to take what he could get.
“Please think about it. If you like, Plo or I could go with you” he offered. This time he did get a full smile and a slight eye roll in response.
“I’m sure I can handle it Master, I’m perfectly capable-“
“I know I know!” Mace held up his hands in defence “Just the offer is there.”
He stood up.
“Now then, time for bed I think” he activated his Senior Master mode, suddenly all business. “Please stop practicing at stupid hours of the morning, you’re making Master Drallig nervous. Sign yourself up for some proper tutoring” he instructed.
“Yes Master” Obi-Wan stood with a bow of acquiescence before they moved together towards the doors.
“Oh and Obi-Wan” Mace caught him as they closed the doors and stood in the silent corridor. “Do think about signing up for the tournament. You have a lot to offer.” He suggested.
The other Jedi hesitated.
“I…I will Master” he promised with a dip of his head.
“That’s all I ask” Mace reassured.
After they separated with one final bow of goodbye, Mace leant against the cool wall in relief, letting his emotions wash over him and into the Force, with the Force equivalent of a grunt from Plo down their bond.
He’d never known about Obi-Wan’s seemingly classic case of PTSD. And the obvious fear of rejection made his unrelenting quest for perfection and independence, that first time around, make sense.
But not this time. Mace smiled. They had a long way to go, but acknowledgement and mind healers were good, and Mace and Plo would be there every step of the way. This time.
#Space Dads Go Time Travelling#Mace Windu#Plo Koon#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Knight Kenobi#Family#Fluff#careful#Mentions of#PTSD#woops sorry this one got a bit long!
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ugh bloodfiend purring is so cute... and i mean real cats will purr on people if theyre stressed out as a healing thing so the whole parent purr doesn't seem out of place?
if sinner don unconsciously does it before the memory unlock i could imagine the other sinners thinking it's some weird body mod that like furries might get. because you cant tell me in a world with all these body mods furries wouldnt take advantage of it. like they might quietly judge her for it but its just a weird biology quirk which isnt telling enough that rocinante needs to supress it. and of course she has no clue.
i think a lot about don not realising her body and unconscious habits are sort of weird. i think thatd be fun to explore in fics.
The City has SO many weird body mods. Tanya is a full on wolf anthro from distortion but Sayo is unfazed like "weird body mod but okay"
So I definitely think between Don's eyes being canonically weird even with Rocinante and everything the Sinners would just pass it off as some quirk!!!
I absolutely love thinking about Don having a lot of subconscious actions and things that don't occur to her as anything out of the ordinary. Besides nightmares, her shoes, her eyes, and purring, I also think she has a really innate sense of blood in general. Being able to tell someone's pulse from their head for example. She just knows the blood is or isn't flowing. This isn't weird to her and she's autistic so she's like Everyone Does This.
I made a joke when the reveal first happened that she accidentally Outs one of the Sinners as trans (no one cares but it's embarrassing!) because she can tell when people are about to start their periods. Didn't even occur to her that's it's Not Normal! She just prepares little gift baskets or something for it or updates the shopping list randomly to add pads for someone else. It's actually really cute but also the sinners are like How???
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Oneshot and its Music Comparisons to Real Life Situations 🎶
This post include spoilers from the Solstice run, scroll past this if you haven't finished the game.
Oneshot has an amazing and touching list of soundtracks. Getting technical, the game in general is amazing and touching, but this post is about the soundtrack. All the songs are great and fit them in their respective well, but I'm going to list only 2 songs I could describe really well with the post title, and one of the songs stood out to me the most outside the Solstice run, is the tower in the refuge city.
1. The Tower
I think the tower's soundtrack was the one that felt close personally for me. It starts with a small arpeggio, when then is just the entire gimmick of the song. Coming from the person that once listened to a song for 10 hours straight, this could be extended forever and I would still listen to it due to how touching it sounds.
That being said, this song struck close to me because I think like many others would also agree, nostalgia is a pretty good factor into feeling emotions and this song is no exception. It makes you feel like that you cannot go back into the past and explore your past, which funnily enough you could just leave the area where you enter the tower in-game, unless you already closed the game inside the X room.
Another song I think that's also really good but may not consider a "song" is the World Machine.
2. The World Machine (Solstice)
This song is, with no exceptions, a song that fits really well in their representative area. The song starts with a pad sound with beeping sounds onto the left side of your ears, though I just think the song is a little similar to Super Monkey Ball 2's World 4 theme except it's without the drums nor a beat. Sure, that's a pretty wild comparison to compare an upbeat song to a soothing ambience song, but I'd argue that since video game music/chiptune composers (like me for example sometimes :D) are creating tracks for their game, they tend to notice more things than an average listener would when listening to tracks for inspirations.
Getting back on track, the song itself is quite similar to working on computer programs, or if you want to be really nerdy, using a Linux terminal. As someone with a enduing love for tech and currently taking a computer science class in College right now, the technological sounds throughout the song really makes you feel like you're inside a computer and the in-game area enhances that too it too.
My Conclusion
I think I might've had gone off-rails with my second pick, but these are what I imagine you would feel like when listening to songs. Though, I think there are more songs I believe that can evoke a feeling or imagining something in the list but these are the two picks I think are well-worth sharing to here.
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On Lecturing, Mansplaining, and The Way We Seek Information
What I find profoundly tiring about the senseless perversion of the conversational maxims nowadays is the seemingly insatiable urge for people to lecture others. Doubly so on the internet. I think this is somewhat of a new endeavour in everyone's repertoire, a honest to god brand new learned behaviour in the communal melting pot.
Of course, lecturing someone implies that there is some sense of superiority and of ego. One believes that the other could benefit with having something explained to them, so they do so with a sense of complete entitlement and with no consideration of one's receptiveness towards such an act. I see slighter examples of this online, like under interviews with rather oratorically gifted people like Orson Welles. Just here and there, someone will have isolated some pleasant and articulate phrase as one of the many comments. This in and of itself is not a bad thing - sententiae are after all fit for purpose. What is not to share? These individuals, however, cannot help themselves by just highlighting what they find pleasant to the ear, but the feel obligated to comment further on how "this is some advice a lot of young people can benefit from" or "this is a valuable lesson for everybody to learn right there". How observant. That these are words that the elusive "I" has deemed valuable - words that souls of perceived lesser taste ought to immediately apply. Of course, this seems innocent enough, but to me it speaks to a much larger shift in the way we perceive others and appreciate information.
Surely, if we are listening to or reading the same material, and we then come across the same sententia, which is evidently universally applicable to all facets of the human condition, something that everyone should and ought know, then why surmise that everyone else has somehow missed it. Why belittle the intelligence of your fellow man by acting as if your own intellectual facets are somehow better attuned to what is considered tasteful or profound. If the sententia is truly what you say it is, then shouldn't it be evident to the recipient without further elaboration on why this particular fragment is of vital importance for our species.
There is a whole industry of people who have essentially created a career putting together listicles of advice or quotes from famous people. Just the other day I came across a video, which was roughly about ten or so minutes, which essentially revolved around listing three sentences that were supposedly uttered by Ernest Hemingway, as advice to aspiring writers. This was of course padded for length and supported by several metric tons of visuals and calls to action, which as you might imagine could be a wholly different and lengthy topic of discussion. Yet, surely if I were to seek wisdom from the greats, then I would seek it out myself. That I would find meaning in their work or conversations they had had with their peers, rather than some montage bereft of all context.
The film critique industry has essentially morphed from mostly critique, analysis, and conspicuous marketing, into a factory for ready-made opinion pieces, which viewers eat up wholesale and regurgitate instead of indulging whatever thoughts they might have on the particular film. Dozens upon dozens of "Ending Explained" videos and articles, where people are given objective answers to subjective questions. Works to which many flock to immediately upon the credits rolling, just so there isn't any shred of ambiguity left. Not immediately knowing or being confused causes people to feel excluded from the group - excluded from people that can somehow explain - people who are perhaps confident enough to state their opinion at all, regardless of the consequences, in a way that to the rest of society looks like expertise and some higher sense of wisdom.
We're essentially begging each other to remove all doubt. To blindly trust in the loudest voices of our generation. Not doing so might open one up to being wrong or to being misinformed. In the court of public opinion, those are seen as grievous acts. How dare you not be aware that this is the case! Aren't you a fool!
This makes people afraid to share their thoughts and encourages a capriciously Orwellian exercise in doublethink. The environment which allowed for there to be the public's opinion and the private opinion is slowly being eroded. Conversing on a topic might seem fruitless when there is a video on the topic, which can be shared instead. The material doesn't contain the point - it is the point.
There is not innate reward in being able to synthesise your own thoughts any more. It's much easier to be indifferent after all. It's much easier to plead media illiteracy than it is to open oneself to ridicule. Expressing positivity or negativity towards a work might alienate you from the diametrically opposed group after all. Taste is prescribed, not cultivated.
Recently, I've been coming across a lot of media that mentions mansplaining - the act of a man explaining something, typically to a woman, in a manner seen as patronizing. I feel that that too is a symptom, or at least a more common example of what I'm seeing. In a sense, we want to perceive others' passions and interests as fundamentally their own and as non-transferable. There is no way of opening someone's eyes to something your hold dear without shoving it down their throat or presenting it as the rule of thumb. It creates this inane sense that the people around you are somehow less intelligent and less receptive to things, which you consider to be, of finer taste. That in and of itself motivates people to lecture and to present themselves as holier than thou. To present the information in a way that is mimetically palatable. If a lot of people believe something, then it must be correct. And if it is correct then it must be what people believe.
This kind of reasoning is indeed very democratic, but is liable to a vocal minority controlling the narrative and essentially prescribing what the majority opinion of a work will be. Worryingly so, this isn't even entirely isolated to fiction. News and information has become too plentiful and too difficult to sift through, so we flock to simple, pre-chewed, and condensed information, where some supposedly learned figure has handily decided what is important and what isn't for us. Being informed is becoming an exercise of trust in others, rather than a search for an objective truth.
Needless to say, what I am advocating for is for you to exercise self-restraint when it comes to satisfying your lust for information or the need to elucidate it in others. Form views of your own, before comparing them to those representing the zeitgeist. Do not seek to eradicate the views of others, so that you might substitute them with your own. Seek understanding in what you perceive as wrong. Question everything, including yourself, the views of those closest to you, and the views of those you deem wisest and most eloquent. Post-modernism is an exercise in individuality, and as we slowly move into an era of post-irony I feel it is going to become ever so important, if not more. In a very meta-modernist way, you might even choose to ignore my assumptions, which would also be valid. Are we there yet? You might very well think that; I couldn't possibly comment.
#conversational maxims#linguistics#sociology#philosophy#critical thinking#mansplaining#ending explained#creative nonfiction#essay#human behaviour#random observations#orwellian#post irony#metamodernism
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Would Quaritch's behavior towards Spider change if he (I mean Spider not Quaritch lmao) was (cis) female? I mean, for example, would Quaritch put more emphasis on Spider's contact with the female part of the squad instead of men, or what would the situation look like if Spider got his period or even the matter of clothing, what would he choose for her and what about the hair - would he cut it or just demat?
It's an interesting one to think about.. I do think there would be some changes. He would probably be a bit more conscious of her potential feelings of vulnerability... like I don't know that he would have slept in the same bed as her as quickly as he did with male!Spider... not that he had any bad intentions in either case (other than the whole holding your kid prisoner thing) but I feel like he'd be more aware of the gender difference and why it might be less appropriate, rather than 'boys bunking together' kinda vibes.
Otherwise I could see him treating her roughly the same. I do think he'd rely on the female squad members a little more - like when he did his list of toiletries for Spider he'd probably have added 'pads, tampons any other stuff you think I've missed' and then given it to Z-dog or Walker specifically. They might have done the shopping for male!Spider in the actual fic, but they probably just stuck to Q's list because he wasn't worried that he'd missed something. He might also ask them for advice, or ask Spider, or google when it came to periods.. but he did live with Paz who had a period, so it would mostly only be if Spider's periods were very different from Paz's that he would be uncertain. Otherwise he'd know the basic drill.
Clothes-wise - well he's picking male!Spider's clothes here, but I wouldn't say at present he's trying to style him particularly. I also don't think he necessarily /wants/ to style him - he might want to pull him away from certain styles, but he does know he can't put him in clothes for 7 years olds lol, so down the line I'm sure Spider would be doing his own clothes shopping with Q just overseeing from a distance. Right now, Spider has mostly casual and comfortable clothes which Q will have got for him. I can see him doing roughly the same for female Spider... he might struggle to guess bra size, so I can imagine him sending Walker or Z-dog to pick up bras for Spider once he knew the size, otherwise he'd have done the same thing of clocking general body shape, estimating clothes size and getting the comfy clothes purchased. If she came to the prison very dressy looking - then maybe he'd have got a couple dresses purchased too - but otherwise just kinda lounge wear type vibes. If she came to the prison wearing makeup he might have asked Walker and Z-dog to buy her some of that too, but he'd probably have waited till he had her to find out shades/brands because that would be too hard to guess.
And hair-wise, much the same, locs would go, curls come back, might not cut it as short as male!Spider's (his isn't even that short) but whatever best replicates 7-year-old Spider's hair!
<3
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idk how u code on neocites- just trying to follow a basic overview video makes me feel really confused. How did you learn how to do stuff??
well, i first get an idea.
then, like you- i am bad at videos, so i go read up on tutorials, and look at examples of how the code to do what i want is written,
next, i get confused. necessary step.
and then, i try applying what i'm reading to my site anyway, even if it's confusing, and even if i can't follow it 100% correctly.
and then i go read some more tutorials for the same thing. i repeat the process until it works... or looks how i want it to look
i try not to follow it exactly, because i want my code to be readable and editable to myself later. this is the most important part i think. you should start very small and do what's understandable to you.
it also doesn't have to be very big or impactful to anyone but yourself, either. it can be small, even, and i encourage that.
here, if you want, in this keep reading i'll show you some examples of stuff i can do with properties i learned:
this small green box, for example.
it's name, or div class identifier name is "update". it's job is to hold the massive list of updates to the site, so viewers can scroll through to see what i've done, and what has changed.
right now, i've shown you where "update" is in the HTML sheet, and we can see that it's been given in-line properties. think of "in-line properties" as adjectives, describing how tall, wide, or how rotated your element is.
(keep in mind that you can't literally see the html as you're editing it like i'm showing you here unless you get a dedicated application for editing and testing html and css. i don't have any apps for that, and usually just edit and refresh to see if it looks right hundreds of times.)
okay, now let's see what exactly i'm telling this "update" box to do inside the CSS,
the CSS style sheet is another way of telling what something on your site to do. you would use the CSS to organize what everything on your page does more neatly, if you don't want to brute-force style it through the HTML directly, like i do.
in the CSS sheet, anything given the name of "update" is basically given the property of "overflow:auto;" which tells it to scroll whenever what's inside of it gets too big for the box. i have given the box a minimum width, so that the words inside will very easily start scrolling.
it is also given the color of #baddad, or a nice minty green- it's about 200px (pixels) wide- it has a border that's 2px wide and is solid (fully closed border) that's black- and it has a box-shadow that is 11 px 11 long in the bottom and the right, with a rgba value given to it to make it colorful, too.
why did i put width on both the html in-line style properties, AND the css style sheet? i don't know honestly! you don't need to do this, i think. just one of them will probably work, really.
i forgot what margin-bottom does, but i think that just adds filler space between elements. or is that padding, which adds filler space -inside- elements? maybe you can figure that out. i still can't remember the difference.
is there an easier way i could explain this to you?... i dunno, maybe ask for something more specific other than "how do you learn stuff" such as "what ways could i do *thing i want to do* specifically"
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THIS!!!
Character development happens within the lines, not between them. Take for example my latest Percy Jackson Fic I’m working on.
How it started/outline:
So Percy had done the hardest thing in the world for him. He’d planned ahead.
Step 1. Design the ring and ring case.
He had asked Leo and Piper for help on the designs.
They ended with a simple, elegant, and durable band of interlocking blue and silver. A warriors wedding band. It wouldn’t get in the way of a fight, but still symbolized Percy and Annabeth’s deep connection.
How it’s going:
So Percy had done the hardest thing in the world for him. He’d planned ahead.
Step 1. Design the ring and ring case.
He had asked Leo and Piper for help on the designs.
“Bro really?! Who else have you told? Cause if I’m the first one then Hazel owes me $20 bucks” Leo spurted out, doing a little jig around the main floor of Bunker 9 where they were camped out, fire shooting from his fingertips like little sparklers.
“Na man” Percy laughed. “Gover’s known for years. I told him a month ago that I was going to officially do it.”
Leo’s firework display stopped, though he still wore his classic elvish grin. “Now why do you have to go and do me like that Percy? I could be $20 richer.”
Piper interrupted by tackle hugging Percy. “I’m soo excited for you. Have you thought about what you want for the design?”
“A little” Percy sheepishly pulled out a paper, “But, I’m no artist, so I just wrote down some ideas. I thought you guys could help.”
Leo pulled out a sketch pad and set it on a work table towards the back of the room. “Uncle Leo is going to design you the best ring ever. Celestial bronze to withstand a beating, but still flexible so it automatically adjusts sizes and doesn’t cause any discomfort, oh and we could throw in a secret weapon compartment like poison gas or make it an Archimedes sphere, or…”
Piper elbowed Leo in the gut. “That’s quite enough of all that. Let’s at least hear what Percy wants first before you go all ballistic on the design.”
Percy was grinning from ear to ear. He was so happy to have his friends here and willing to help him planning this proposal. Even if that meant that Leo was going to shoot off a thousand different crazy ideas on how to weaponize a wedding ring. (Though Percy wasn’t totally against the idea.)
He realized that Piper was staring at him expectantly, so Percy handed her the list he had pulled out.
“I want to keep it pretty simple. Durable like Leo was saying. And I really like the adjustable idea. I was thinking two interlocking bands, one silver and one blue.” Percy shuffled his feet nervously.
Even in front of his friends he wasn’t sure he was doing the whole romance thing right. That was why he had asked Piper to come. Plus Piper had become one of Annabeth’s best friends. If anyone would know Annabeth as much as Percy did, it would be Piper.
“I think that’s lovely.” Piper smiled. “Silver for Athena and Blue for Poseidon. Intertwined together like you and Annabeth are tied together. She’ll love that.”
Hearing those words from Piper a well or worry melted from Percy’s chest. He had been soo nervous about his idea, and if he was presuming too much, or not putting enough thought into it. Sometimes dating the smartest girl in the world could be hard.
Leo had been furiously sketching while Percy and Piper talked. He stood back from the sketch pad, held out his arms, and exclaimed “Voila! Uncle Leo has done it again! Behold my latest masterpieces in couples jewelry.”
Percy and Piper lean to look at the sketch.
Leo really had designed a master piece. Annabeth’s ring was thin, but sturdy and elegant. The two strands of celestial bronze, one dyed silver the other blue, wove in and out together in waves, creating infinity symbols over and over again.
Its pair matched it in quality. The second ring was slightly thicker, with three layers forged into one. Celestial bronze of blue, silver, then blue again.
“Who’s the second ring for?” Percy asked
“You dummy. You’ll need a wedding band as well woln’t you?” Leo raised his eyebrow at his friend, then made a face at Piper that said ‘This guy really thinks he’s ready to get married?’ “I figured we’d keep it on theme. Interlocking bands for Annabeth, and silver sandwiched in blue for you to represent how Annabeth will always be your heart.”
“Leo!” Piper exclaimed
“What?!”
“That is actually very sweet!”
“Hey! I can do sweet things. The Valdezinator is all about sweet and lovey.”
Percy just laughed. “Clearly I haven’t thought that far ahead yet, but you’re the man Leo. These look great!” Percy gave him a fist bump.
*back to our regularly scheduled rant*
These say the exact same things in terms of the plot progressing. But the second one gives you sooo much more characterization. You feel the happiness of the friends in doing this together and the slight nervousness and inability to fully plan things through that is Percy Jackson.
Write the dialogue. Write the characters. Give them a home, friends, feelings, life. Write the filler where it brings your story to life.
crying and sobbing y'all when people said that you only add scenes that advance the plot they didn't JUST mean the overarching plot. they meant the plot of the book... entirely. like a conversation between two friends can advance the plot by characterizing them and grounding them with a meaningful relationship. if your book doesn't have "filler" it's missing emotional beats. which are plot. which are important. fun and whimsy aren't mutually exclusive from what "needs" to happen in your book. the advice isn't bad it's just taken too literally stop come back.
#mysterythief rants#mysterythief writes#writers#writing advice#percy jackson#percy jackson fanfiction#writers on tumblr#fanfic writing
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TATE MCRAE - "IT'S OK I'M OK"
youtube
No, really, we're fine. We're FINE.
[4.69]
Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: She's on a world-conquering run as our least essential pop star -- the sounds here are big and confident, but everything else seems actively anti-hook; her delivery swallows up all her best lines, the frantic intonation on the hook less indicating a louche coolness and more sounding like she realized midway through she was slightly offbeat. At its best, this sounds like a demo for some more charismatic figure -- a remix could give this a purpose! [4]
Will Adams: Tate assures you she's fine, but the beat says otherwise. The gigantic drums recall the of crowded-ness of "Tipsy," the pecking synths recall the laser-focus of "Me & U." "It's ok, I'm ok" is, well, okay as mid-aughts throwback; it could've been better with some intelligible vocals. [5]
Alfred Soto: How you respond to this Ariana Grande-fied example of post-therapy pop will depend on your taste for Tate McRae's barely there squeak. She shows more panache in the video, where she moves like a practiced TikTok influencer. [6]
Harlan Talib Ockey: “It’s ok I’m ok” suffers from “Look What You Made Me Do” syndrome, where a strong, dramatic pre-chorus collapses into a repetitive chorus with far less energy. The lyrics do have an interesting premise, with McRae warning another woman about her useless ex, but the entire second verse could’ve used a line editor. Actually, the pre-chorus is the strongest part lyrically, too. And vocally, since McRae sounds like she’s struggling to keep up with some of the vocal runs in the verses. And production-wise, with its lightly menacing synth pads. In short, keep the pre-chorus, maybe rework everything else. [4]
Taylor Alatorre: The title, with its double-talk defensiveness, reads less like a confident strut and more like a shaky reply to the new girlfriend's debatably sincere attempts at consolation ("sorry I took your man…?"), which puts a damper on whatever karmic power play is meant to be felt here. And if McRae doesn't want me reading that much into it, she should consider singing in a way that makes looking up her lyrics sheet feel less like uncovering the Rosetta Stone. [3]
Grace Robins-Somerville: This is beyond cursive singing -- it's like the paper's been soaked through and the cursive ink is running to the point that it's indecipherable. Every time someone tries to push the Tate McRae second-coming-of-Britney narrative that's been forced in waves over the past two-ish years, it's the closest we get to living in a real-life version of HBO's The Idol. Remember The Idol? I kinda miss The Idol. [2]
Katherine St. Asaph: Extremely 2000 Max Martin in sound -- those synth stomps are vintage "It's Gonna Be Me" -- but not in structure; Cheiron-era Max would never have allowed the final chorus to dissolve into ether. I'd love to hear the song where she realizes she isn't ok and snaps. [7]
Jel Bugle: It’s very Britney! I don’t think Tate is going to trouble the upper echelons of pop with this one. It’s a pleasant enough bop, but somehow the title of the song describes everything perfectly (was this intentional?). I wanted to like this more, but there is nothing that hooky here. [6]
Dave Moore: Louie from the Pop Pantheon podcast went viral the other day pointing out that this sounds less like Britney Spears and more like Ashley Tisdale, but a seasoned mid-aughts C-list teenpop connoisseur could tell you this song would have gone to Vanessa Hudgens. And the shoe fits -- "basically what we're going to do is dance" is Tate McRae's whole thing! [5]
Aaron Bergstrom: Faithful "Me & U" homage over store-brand "Grindin'" drums, a perfectly fine idea for a pop song that doesn't seem to have moved beyond the idea phase. [4]
Nortey Dowuona: Is Ilya secretly on pgLang? Is this pgLang trying to make a play for the pop charts? Cuz it's well produced, slick too, but the main voice is so thin and childlike it doesn't register. pgLang could've just released the Bri Steves and Baby Keem song instead. [2]
Ian Mathers: Pre-COVID, for years, I used to do a lot of music trivia at bars. My team was pretty good! I've got a trophy from when we won the summer-long tournament run by the hardest one we went to. There's a fair amount of "name that tune from a snippet" type questions in those. This feels like one I would have a tremendously scoring any points on, even for artist. [5]
Mark Sinker: Don't care was made to care. [8]
[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]
#tate mcrae#music#pop#pop music#music writing#music reviews#music criticism#the singles jukebox#Youtube
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quick tangent for i think uh.. like problems i have w writing that i've noticed lately
idek how far back it goes but i make a lot of notes before actually writing for a piece from start to finish. i flesh things out in my head or think of a detail to elaborate on later and jot typically everything down that i can bc my memory sucks and ik i'll forget it later of i let it set too long, or if not forget then it'll be hazy and all the details won't be there.
the thing abt this is that 1) i write most notes all in a big blur and separate big thoughts by semicolons in lieu of any other punctuation, and i feel like most of the time i'm jotting everything down as i think of it (as it is in my head) so i don't have to waste time on coming up w correct wording or what makes sense, i'll figure out what makes sense later yknow? so it's all a giant stream loosely punctuated and if you read it out mostly it'd sound like someone speaking.
which leads to 2) a lot of extraneous detail accumulates and the bits and pieces that DO end up sounding eloquent i end up liking enough that i wanna shive a phrase or line into the story as is. which is !!! part of the bigger problem, exhibit a
when i come up with something for a story, i want to somehow insert it into the story no matter what. this means that i have trouble letting go of older ideas that no longer fit, but it also means (and this is the main problem i feel i have) that i feel the need to put a lot of extraneous elements into the story just because.
sometimes this is fine!! but sometimes, like this past week skimming old notes for a wip fic abt a yr old, i feel like this is not great and that i could be going abt it all in a better way.
let me give an example. i have a fic where a character is not quite human, is adopted by human parents for power gaining purposes later, is never told they're not human and ends up running away at a young age, but starts exhibiting non-human qualities later in life.
also, this fic is from the pov of another person in conflict with the one above. they meet after the first has already run away from home, so from a story perspective, there is no reason that the pov character should know any of the information i listed above. the story is about them trying to figure out what exactly the other character is, species-wise, and both of them are not on good terms so there's no opening to inquire directly with each other to puzzle it out.
what i've realized is that this plot point is interesting and can add to the story, but not as a direct quote, because it doesn't fit and would hinder the narrative to introduce. however! just because it can't fit doesn't mean i can't use it indirectly. idk where to go just yet, but today i thought about tossing aside a mention of the parents and such directly and instead using that information to build characteristics. i know it happens and that this person experiences it, so i can use that to puzzle out how it influences them, maybe showing how it contrasts them to the pov character, or possibly alluding to it as what's probably necessary information that the pov character simply doesn't have ('if i could just figure x out, if i just knew about y, then i could solve for z')
which is to say that uhhhhh basically! i'm slowly realizing that there are (probably better?) ways to use extraneous information besides directly. i usually don't worry about padding a story, but i have written plenty before where there's a word cap and for that purpose i feel like this will be helpful to keep in mind so the "padding" can be reduced but still serve its purpose.
it helps too that i never really delete my notes, so it's not like all the bits and pieces i think are ingenious are gone forever jus bc it doesn't make it into the story. i've thought abt actually taking screenshots or straight up copy/pasting some of my fic notes here, especially for completed fic i'm not liable to think abt again in terms of editing, as a sort of archive but also jus so i have somewhere i can point my fingers at and say 'oh look! i wrote smth cool come look at it!'
anyway this isn't uh anything tangent and i need to learn to kill my darlings i think first before i can implement this idea, or perhaps starting this way (with indirectly adding to a story) will enable me to do that better (discarding unnecessary things altogether). again bc i'm writing fic for fun i'm not rly stressed abt forming a perfect cohesive story that cuts out irrelevant details bc if i'm writing for me and i like those details then why not? but i do also think overall this will help me improve writing quality and i'm excited to test some things and go from there :) even if i like where i'm at now, i also think challenging my comfort when writing is never a bad thing bc i'll look at smth i write now a yr ago and go oh! i've definitely gotten better!
#as im typing the ending (and im sure ive said this before)#im again being iffy abt usng tumblr as a storage space bc ik how easy it is for accts to be deleted (on accident or no)#and also like.. idk tumblrs been around for yrs but i also realize its not a permanent thing and could go under at the drop of a hat too#(jus like any other website ever like tumblr isnt special but its that general idea yknow)#i did get a external harddrive that i still need to put my laptop everything on so if (pls dont jinx plsplsplspls) my#x yrs old computer dies suddenly i wont have lost everything and can have some manner of relief in that#i do put a lot of things on tumblr so i can delete them from my mac so ig im jus acknowledging thats uhhhhhh not a good practice#i also write directly to tumblr A L O T so maybe sometime soon i need to go and pull off what isnt also somewhere else by default#anyway NONE OF THIS is what the rant was abt btw this is jus a side tangent#i need to put smth up later but i thought i would get these feelies out first#until then!
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2023/02/18 English
BGM: Daryl Hall & John Oates - Private Eyes
Listening to Daryl Hall and John Oates randomly, I read Yoshio Kataoka's "Life of Words". Kataoka tries to find the real figures of the words (the ones I am also certainly the user of them) which are filled in this world, and think about them referring to his experience of life. For example, a lot of "katakana words", Japanese English, dead words, and traditional words, etc. I also like to think about words, so his discussions are interesting to read. I learned how the Japanese language "eats" various foreign words and concept easily, and puts them as the Japanese (the result of this phenomenon is the scene of Japanese society that is full of "katakana") from his writings. However, I can't stop used those words. Even if people point out that there is a word to describe Twitter and Facebook as "social media", I would use the Japanese English "social networking service (often shorten as SNS)" in the area of Japanese language.
Today I worked early. This morning, I prepared for today's work with Lloyd Cole's love songs. Suddenly, writing my notes of these things (about the books I read, music I enjoy, and the things in my mind, etc.) I thought that, "why do I write my memos in English?". If I try to answer this seriously, it becomes that "it suits my nature". It never means that I am smarter than anyone (this is the true opinion of mine). I heard that people can be divided as two types as thinking in Japanese way or doing in English way, and I am born as the latter person by chance. That's all I think. Once I went to Tokyu Hands when this corona panic just started, and bought the memo pad I am still using, then it "suit" me, so I can keep on writing. It's the simple fact.
Indeed, I have been writing my bad memories and complaints in this diary, and today I also thought that "I am the person who can never be someone. I am that type" at lunch break. Quoting Haruki Murakami's famous wording, I would say it as "eggs" of "Of Walls and Eggs". I have had a difficulty to live this life. When I was a teenager, I felt that I was caught fully by a nightmare. A closed situation as Tears For Fears's song as "Mad World", so I just spent that period with Haruki Murakami's novels. At that time, I believed somewhere in my mind that I could be happy if I went to a university, or Tokyo. But, after entering the university, I started having an emptiness that crucified me and made me think, "what on earth I want to do?". I experienced the change from living in the countryside to Tokyo suddenly, and that change was too hard for me because I was weak and also autistic, in other words, having a serious hardship. Holding big depression, I stayed on the bed in my apartment. And after that, I experienced a lot of troubles... but I survived like this.
A Japanese musician, Motoharu Sano, influenced me to listen to Hall and Oates's music, and it suits my feeling well right now. There is still unknown music for me. There are various things that are listed up on the one lineup flatly, and I choose my favorite things freely. I listened to Sonny Rollins yesterday, but today I choose TOTO to enjoy. That's my real life. At the library I choose Yoshio Kataoka like today, and also have an interest in Raymond Carver. What things are contained and "mixed" in my head? I don't care in its history. I just ignore the roots or tradition. Likewise, I just choose what I want, that's my. Today I also read books, listen to music, and "bar-f-out" my thoughts like this. I am basically "hybrid", so I can never be any writers' fan or any ideology's believer, and I never want to become them. I live on and on.
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Do I Have The Correct Wheels For My Roller Skates
I'm sure you've seen some of the amazing videos of people roller skating and doing all kinds of tricks. It looks so fun! But, if you're like me, then it's also intimidating—I don't know how to do any of those things. When I mentioned this to a friend who does roller skate wheels Australia regularly, she told me that learning how to do tricks on skates came with practice and that buying the right wheels and bearings would make my first experiences better. That got me wondering: What size wheels should I get? How many should I buy? What hardness are they? So many questions!
Why should I change my wheels?
The wheels on your roller skates wear down over time. They also get dirty, and can be damaged by things like breaking glass or being stepped on by a heavy person.
The same thing applies to wheels that are too small or large for your roller skates: they're just not going to work as well as they could. Wheels of different hardness than the floor of your roller skate rink, gymnasium or other place where you roll around is also something you'll want to consider if it's an issue for you.
How do I know what size wheels to get?
When it comes to skates, wheels are one of the most important parts. The size of your wheels will have an effect on how well you can skate, so you'll want to make sure that you're getting them sized correctly. To find out what size wheel is appropriate for your roller skates, look at their sizing guide and use a ruler or measuring tape. Measure from where the top part of the boot begins (also known as its "cuff") all the way down to where it meets with the bottom part of your foot in one straight line — this measurement is called "toe-to-heel." Once you've taken this measurement and double checked that it's accurate using another measuring device (you don't want a mistake like this!), compare it to what's listed in their guide. If there's no information available online about sizing, call up customer service or reach out directly via social media channels such as Instagram or Facebook Messenger if they're open 24 hours a day (because everyone knows accidents happen).
How many wheels should I buy?
You need to buy as many wheels as you think you'll need. Sometimes, it's hard to know how many sets of wheels you'll go through in one year. For example, if you skate once or twice a week, then a set of 4-wheeled inline skates will cost more than they should since they're designed for use by people who skate at least three times per week. However, if you only skate once every few months (or once or twice a month), then those same inline skates would probably last for years without needing new ones—and that would be money well spent! It's best not to buy too many pairs at first because there are other costs associated with roller skating: such as buying new knee pads and wrist guards when yours wear out; purchasing new laces when the old ones break; and replacing any broken parts on your skates such as wheels or bearings. Conclusion Wheels are one of the most important parts of a roller skate wheels, so choosing the right ones is crucial. If you have any questions about which size wheels will work best for your skates, feel free to contact the experts and they'll help answer them! Read the full article
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Obi-wan talks to the Council about Anakin:
“Masters,” Obi-wan bowed.
“Knight Kenobi,” Master Koon greeted for the Council, “how have you found your student?”
“Anakin is a bright, cheerful child who soaks up all instruction given. He would have been a credit to the Order.”
“And there’s no reason to remove him from his family?” Koon asked worriedly.
“None whatsoever. I have observed him with many of his family members and found that he is wanted and, furthermore, accepted as he is,” Obi-wan raised a hand, “that is not to say there are not restrictions to his use of the Force while at home, but they are reasonable, common-sense restrictions for his safety.”
“Such as?”
“He may not use the Force to fly or assist in jumping unless his father or eldest sister, who are both flight capable themselves, are present and have been forewarned. Nor is he allowed to fly or Force-jump inside buildings unless specific requirements are met.”
Several Masters nodded; similar rules were in place in the Temple.
“Punishment, if he disobeys?” Yoda questioned next.
“Loss of privileges,” Obi-wan replied easily, “I have been given a list of punishments I may deal out and punishments I must avoid. The most common punishment seems to be loss of access to sweets and desserts. I have transcribed the punishment list onto my datapad and have sent copies to all the Council for review.”
Several Masters looked to their ‘pads and nodded.
“What of the so-called primer?” Mace asked, eyebrow raised.
“Ah. A most curious piece of writing,” Obi-wan nodded, “I have also sent copies to the Council for review. It does get some things wrong, or at least slightly incomplete, but for a book written to be fiction it works well enough for what they used it for. It is supposedly annotated by Master Yoda, myself, Master Qui-Gon, an Adult Anakin, Anakin’s future son, Luke, and…the Sith Lord Sidious, who mostly mocks our ways.”
Many Masters were reading through it already and nodding. Others were muttering lowly about the Sith having any hand in a primer for younglings, even just to mock. Especially to mock.
“They have, of course, disregarded Sidious’ writing and instead focused on building a ramshackle curriculum not unlike that of the creche. Anakin has been taught meditation and group meditation, shielding, and some telekinetic uses of the Force. They also have him in lessons for sword fighting, which we hope to use in proper lightsaber forms when the time comes.”
“Permission for the Gathering has been given?” Yoda asked.
“Yes, as long as we give them forewarning and,” Obi-wan grimaced, “we take along a few guards.”
“He is a ward of a Royal Family,” someone mused, nodding.
“His other education,” Qui-Gon finally voiced, “has it also been seen to?”
“Yes, he is in the mandatory schooling of the King’s and Queen’s home dimension,” Obi-wan nodded, “currently he is merely learning the basics but as he ages he will be allowed to, required to, diversify his lessons. I am told that, for example, in his teens he will be required to learn the basics of a foreign language.”
“His abilities—”
“His teacher has been made aware of them and there is a plan in place. He is not to show off or use the Force while in lessons unless it is an emergency of some type. His shielding is impeccable for a child his age and species so he does not cause any undue stress or subconscious influence on those around him. If he becomes overwhelmed himself, there is a quiet room he can retreat to to meditate and regain control.”
“Yes, how was he taught before his father made contact with the Order?”
“He studied under three beings. A telepath, an empath, and a witch. They attempted to recreate the creche lessons as best they could, following the primer and other fictional sources. One was once a father who taught his own children, one learned control under the auspices of an order of mystical monks, and one learned under the guidance of her own father. I have met and spoke with all three and all three are still involved in Anakin’s training for now,” Obi-wan answered honestly.
There were thoughtful nods.
“I have also met his swordsmanship teacher,” Obi-wan added, “a fellow in charge of the King’s army, known as the Fright Knight. He is an exacting, though not cruel, taskmaster that has trained all the King’s children and the King and Queen themselves. We have already begun integrating ‘saber forms into his lesson plans for Anakin. He is knowledgeable in many forms of bladed combat and his students are all a credit to his teaching methods. Even now, the Princess readies to take control of the army, as is her duty as heir apparent. Fright Knight merely held the position until the princess could be well-prepared.”
“Where does Skywalker place in the hierarchy?” Mace asked.
“As a ward of the King, he is not to assume any throne or title beyond which he himself earns. As a human, living thing, he is not within line for his father’s throne no matter what happens to his eldest sister or parents.”
Obi-wan paused, “There are already tentative plans for his removal—for his safety—to this dimension and universe should the political situation of his home become untenable. If the Council allows, in that situation I will quite happily take custody of the boy as my Padawan until he is Knighted.”
“Discuss this, the Council will,” Yoda agreed, “unorthodox, this situation is but wisdom of this plan I can see. How likely a removal will be?”
“Not for several years, if not decades if at all,” Obi-wan assured, “the Royals are young and healthy and, I’m told, fated to become fully ghost upon death. This plan is merely a precaution, one they have taken with all their wards. As of right now, the political climate is stable.”
There was more nodding and relief flowed into the Force as everyone released it and any worry they may have had about Anakin’s situation.
The Expansion of the Already Long Post
#danny phantom#ghost king danny#harry potter#buffy the vampire slayer#miraculous ladybug#DP#HP#ML#MLB#BTVS#dc comics#DC#JLA#supernatural#SPN#danny phantom crossover#multi-crossover#star wars#SW#inuyahsa#used google translate#long reads#Charmed(1998)#scooby doo#scoobynatural#Wished Away Series
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Ok so I have a request, but bear with me because I can’t find the prompt list I had seen about it 😩
Basically it was about how in real life, things happen or go wrong during sex that make it more silly. There was a whole list of things that might happen, but I can only remember two of them. One was like someone being too ticklish and the other was body parts making weird noises. Hopefully you at least get the picture with those two examples 😂
I love the idea of sex being fun and silly sometimes and thought it would be really sweet with Bucky :)
18+ This is so cute. I love all of this so much. Awkward sex positions. Queefs.
Bucky giggled.
Giggled.
You looked up at him with curious eyes, a devilish little smile flashed across your face as you went back for the same spot. Your lips nipped and teased his neck where he was most sensitive, making him squirm and wriggle under you.
"It tickles!!" He tucked his chin against his chest, his face flushed from smiling while you straddled him with an amused look on your face.
"I didn't know super soldiers were so ticklish" You grinned, poking his side, making him yelp. He grabbed you and flipped you over, trapping you under him.
"Mhm, and what about you baby" You squealed at the feeling of his beard rubbing in the crook of your neck, desperately trying to wiggle away from him while he held you down, laughing and nuzzling his face into your more. "Do I get to feel all of you now sweet girl"
He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, his hard length pressed against your tummy, precum making a mess on your skin. You moaned softly, nodding and spreading your legs for him.
"Ow" Your face scrunched slightly, as he spread your legs a little further, your body not as warmed up and flexible as since it was still earlier in the day.
"Sorry sweets, you okay?" You hummed as he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, pushing his cock into you slowly. "You feel perfect angel" He started off slow, feeling your body with his hands, smiling against your skin each time you clung onto him harder.
"Faster baby" You moaned, pulling him down to kiss his sweet lips, your arms draped around his shoulders. He pounded you against the mattress, his cock slamming in and out of you, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.
"Come here baby" He pulled out of you, yanking you and bending you over the bed, stuffing his cock right back in you to fuck you from behind.
How you hated the switch from missionary to doggy.
You adored how Bucky could hit your exact spot, except it usually also came with him literally fucking air into you in the process. You blinked, groaning at the way your body just refused to cooperate while with each thrust, the sound that kept escaping your pussy wasn’t something that could be hidden.
Bucky giggled.
With each thrust, he couldn’t help but snicker at the sound while admiring the soft flesh of your ass jiggle each time he pulled your hips back.
"Did you just laugh?!" You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold in his little giggles while giving you gentle thrusts.
"Can't help it baby" He shrugged, massaging your thighs, his mind now wandering to something else he had wanted to try for a while. "Can-can I fuck you against the wall?"
You blinked back him while he bit his lip, hoping you'd say yes. He was still learning about things he enjoyed during sex and you were the safest most loving person he had ever been with.
"Don't drop me Barnes" You nodded, standing up and padding over to a wall that wasn't near anything so you wouldn't knock anything over.
"I won't drop you" Bucky scoffed, you weighed nothing to him. It wasn't until you were in his arms did he realize it wasn't weight that was an issue and that there was an art to fucking one against the wall.
"How-how do i-" He grunted, lifting you with both arms, when realizing he wasn’t skilled enough just yet to put his dick in you without using his hand. He tried for a second, awkwardly rubbing his tip against your pussy while you held onto him for dear life, unable to understand how anyone enjoyed this position when it took so much effort.
“Is it in yet?”
“I would know if it was in Bucky”
“Damn right you would” Cocky bastard.
“Will you stop priding yourself in your dick size for a second and just use your hand to stick it in”
“Greedy now aren’t we”
“Barnes, just use your hand to put it in and fuck me”
Bucky snorted, managing to shift you so he held you up with his metal arm, lining his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you, both of you gasping at the feeling as he filled you, both hands now gripping onto your ass and thighs.
Once he got into the rhythm, he couldn't help but lose himself, loving the way you moaned and fluttered around him, the soft thumps against the wall only spurring him on more. Now you understood why people loved this position.
"I'm gona-f-fuck I'm gonna cum" He moaned, his cock throbbing, fucking you faster, sweat beading at his forehead.
"Hold it, fuck keep going Bucky! Don’t stop-" You whined but it was too late, fuck you felt too good.
It was like a cum now button as soon as you told him don’t stop, keep going, his balls tightened against his body, cum bursting out of his cock, spilling his load into you.
"I-HNggg-FucK I’m cumming” He moaned, stilling his movements, panting while still holding you up. "Sorry" He blushed, smiling shy at you while you snorted, shaking your head.
"I told you to keep going!"
"Well, why do you feel so good" He rolled your eyes, carrying you over and dropping you onto the bed, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your soaked clit.
"Now hold still while I make you cum pretty girl"
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12 days of Fluffmas!: Winter Festival || Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader.
Day 6 Winter Festival. Summary: Your neighbor Beau “Cyclone” Simpson takes you to a winter festival. 1553 words Female/AFAB reader.. Warnings: There’s an implied age gap. Reader is in her 30s. Notes: Day six of the 12 days of Fluffmas! Comments and reblogs fuel my writing, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most. **Tag list is done, please follow and turn on notifs for @wbslibrary **
The doorbell startled you out of your thoughts, it had been a long day at work, and for some reason it was easier to zone out while washing yesterday’s dishes than it was to address your stress from work. A quick glance at your phone, and you smile—tonight’s dinner was earlier than expected. You open the door to see, not an uber eats delivery person, but your next-door neighbor. One Beau Simpson. He’s halfway off the stoop when you open the door, and he turns, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry to disturb you.” His voice is low and quiet, and God, you could listen to him speak all day. “You’re just interrupting a hot date with Thai food and Netflix.”
“Ah, I’ll go then…” He pauses and turns to look at you once your words register. “Speaking of dinner.” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “You already have plans. My apologies.”
“Beau, would you like to come in?” You open the door a bit wider. You had moved in next door a few months ago, and after your dog had dug up his tulips, and a shaky introduction, the two of you had become fast friends. Even if you wondered what it would take to make that well put together man to fall apart.
He steps inside, and you close the door behind him. “I’m sorry I’m usually more articulate than this.”
Oh no, he’s cute. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks and he’s decidedly not looking at you. “It’s alright. I can carry a conversation until the food comes, and then there’s a built-in thing to talk about.” He follows you into the kitchen, a few steps behind you. He’s in jeans and a cream sweater that’s just a little too big for his frame, but when he pushes up the sleeves you find yourself distracted once more.
You chat about work, sharing office gossip, filling him in on the latest scandals, and sharing a bit of the projects you’re working on. You smile, seeing that he’s listening, keeping up with the convoluted stories you tell him. Beau takes the bottle of wine from you, opening it, pouring two glasses, handing one to you. The doorbell rings again, and you trot down the hallway, voice rising as you go retrieve the food.
“Now, there’s no judgement for the amount of food I ordered.” You put the bags on the island. Beau starts opening them, and you grab chopsticks from a drawer, offering him a set. It’s comfortable and easy the two of you sharing food in the kitchen. He’s on one side of the island, you’re on the other and he's relaxed enough to share about his work. Granted, he couldn’t get overly detailed with his stories, but what he did tell you was exhilarating.
“You’re honestly telling me, one of these elite fighter pilots stole a pair of boxers from a fellow fighter pilot and ran them up the flagpole. And they had little roosters printed on them?” You’re laughing, and he's chuckling softly.
“His call sign is Rooster, so I’m assuming they found it fitting.”
“So, what’s your call sign, Admiral?”
“Cyclone.”
You could picture him when he was younger, full of spitfire and unbridled talent. There were glimpses of it, when he was playing football with his nephews. He wasn’t any less impressive now, older, a bit more reserved. If you squinted under the right light, you could see the younger man still there, just under the surface. “That sounds like trouble.”
He shakes his head, his smile easy, eyes mischievous. “Not at all. Perfect example of Navy discipline.”
“You are absolutely trouble; I feel it in my bones.” You can’t help but tease, liking the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. “What brings you over, Admiral, other than sharing pad see ew?”
“It’s Friday night, and we’re both home. Seemingly without plans.”
“I had a date,” you tease, “which you crashed. I have a very serious commitment with my Netflix queue.”
“There’s a night market, a farmer’s market type of thing.”
You watch, eyebrow arched as he picks at his nails. “The Bell Fest, right?” The fliers had been posted all over town. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”
“I do like to have fun.” He says. “I’m unable to go home this year, and my family and I’ve gone to the same one for years.” Beau clears his throat, “I was hoping that you’d be interested in going.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“I’m asking you to join me to the Bell Fest.” He says.
You hide your smile, sealing up the boxes of food, putting them in the fridge. “Well, we can’t miss with tradition, can we?” You close the refrigerator door, turning back to him. “You’re driving though.”
One of the city parks had been transformed into a winter wonderland, lit up by hundreds of strands of Christmas lights. Decorated trees, food trucks, vendors selling holiday wares, and holiday music pumped through speakers completed the atmosphere. Beau never rushed you as you drifted from booth to booth, wordlessly holding your bags as you found presents to give to friends and family.
“That is pretty.” His words brush against the shell of your ear. Beau is at your back, leaning over you to look at a necklace that caught your eye. A starburst pendant hung on a delicate chain, pretty, feminine. “You know there’s no rules about buying things for yourself.”
“I like giving gifts more.” You turn your head slightly, and he’s right there. You can smell his aftershave, the peppermint on his breath, the warmth from his body. It would take just centimeters to close the space between your mouths, and you step away.
“There’s a light maze!” You say, trying to ignore the pounding in your heart. “Do you want to try it? Tickets are on me.”
Beau studies you, a small smile on his features. “I’ll go put these in the car. Give me a few minutes.”
You nod, flashing a grin of your own in his direction before you’re heading to join the line for tickets. The maze is made up of towering evergreens strung with clear Christmas lights, and from the map you’re given in the center is a place to take photos. “All set?” You ask when Beau joins you again.
“I don’t see how this is easy.” You mutter when the two of you are faced with another dead end. “Your turn to navigate, Admiral.”
Beau takes the map, tracing over where you’ve been, looking up as though he can see through the walls of the maze. “This way.”
After a couple false starts, the two of you make your way to the center of the maze. Grasping his arm, you stare in wonder, a soft gasp falling from your mouth. An arch of lights stands, surrounded by poinsettias and piles of fake snow. You look up at him, seeing the twinkle of the lights reflected in his eyes.
“Would you like a complimentary photo?” An attendant dressed as an elf approaches you.
“Shall we?” Beau stops halfway down the path to the arch, turning to you offering his hand. You pass your phone over to the employee before taking his hand. Beau pulls you to his side, hold light, but you pressed a little closer. “Send that to me?” He asks once the elf returns your phone.
Time gets away from you, and before you know it, the two of you are side by side in the car. He pulls into his driveway, and you look at his profile, drinking in the play of light and shadows on his face. “Thank you.”
“It was fun.” Beau says, before he’s exiting the car. He comes around to your side, opening your door. “Thank you for indulging me.”
“I mean Netflix is an old standby, I’m getting a little bored with it to be honest.” You take the packages and bags from him with a grin. “It’s not often that I get to observe the traditions of the mysterious man who I live next door to.”
Beau laughs softly, and it’s a sound that you want to bottle up to keep on a shelf forever. “It’s late, I’ll make sure you get inside.”
“Goodnight.” You say, walking across the lawn to your own property. You unlock the door, flicking the porch lights on and off twice after you lock the door. Carefully your purchases on the table by the door, toeing off your shoes as your dog dances and weaves between your legs.
“I know, I know, you need to potty.” You mutter patting her head. When you straighten there’s a heaviness in your jacket pocket. “Come on, baby girl.” You call to the dog, walking down the hallway, pulling a small cardboard envelope from your pocket.
Written on the outside in neat, crisp lettering “sorry for ruining your date. –Beau.” Your fingers shake as you open the parcel, finding the necklace that you had admired. His phone number is written on the inside flap of the package.
You snap a photo, making sure the necklace is on display, sending it to him in a message. “If you’re not busy next Friday, drinks? I think Netflix just dumped me.”
/end
#12 days of fluffmas#Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson/reader#Beau 'Cyclone' Simspons/you#shelly writes#Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson#Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x reader#Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x you#Top Gun Maverick fanfiction#reader insert#imagines
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