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your-worst-knightmare · 4 years ago

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Flipping Off the Universe

Jaytemis Week 2020: Day 7: Scars/Wounds

Ao3 Link

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Artemis huffed as she sent the last thug crumpling to the ground with the hilt of her axe. Finally. Those men were annoyingly resilient. She raised her hand to the comm in her ear to contact her team-mate– the Red Hood. “You good over there, Hood?”

The audio crackled to life. She could hear him panting: he’d likely just gotten out of a brawl himself. “Yeah. Think some guy nicked me. Nothin’ too bad though.”

Her mouth twitched. “See you at the rendezvous point?”

“I might be a minute though, Arty. Don’t wait up.”

“Nonsense. I must see how badly you messed up your beloved jacket.” Artemis snarked, leaping from the roof of one building to the next. Jason’s uneasiness about her having to wait, although adorable, was something she had a sneaking suspicion he was using to hide an injury. Being the only human on the team, he tended to also fill the slot for ‘most injuries’. Jason wasn’t proud of that status.

By now, Artemis had been waiting much longer than she would have liked to. Patience was never her strong suit. She spoke into her comm again. “Hood, what’s your ETA?”

The line was silent for a few seconds. “I told you not to wait up.”

“Arrival time, Hood.”

He sighed. “Don’t know. Five minutes?”

“If you’re not here by then, I’m coming to get you. You should know, if you’re hiding another injury, you will not be able to fool me.”

“Promise not to get mad Arty?”

Artemis pressed her lips into a line. This wasn’t going to be great. “I can promise nothing.”

“Great. Well, I think I dislocated my shoulder and there’s a gash on my right arm.”

“Okay, I’m coming to get you.”

“What–” Jason sputtered. “Come on, I’m not dying here, Red!”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point. Now turn on your GPS and stay put.”

Artemis found the fearsome Red Hood leaning against a dumpster in one of many disgusting alleyways. The smell alone justified his need to have an air filter on every suit he wore.

“You need a hand there, Hood?” Artemis asked, crossing her arms.

He looked up sluggishly. “No, in case you didn’t hear the first hundred times...” Despite his grumbling, he let Artemis take him to her safe-house.

She’d gotten it after she and Bizarro had returned from their unplanned ‘trip’ to one hell of another dimension. She didn’t spend mush time there, as she did tend to get lonely, and being alone with one’s thoughts, especially unwelcome ones, was never enticing. But, at the end of the day, it was still hers.

Getting in through the window turned out to be quite the process, considering Jason’s injuries and the security measures Artemis had taken to ensure the safety of the apartment. However, after some cursing, pointless arguing and snarky comments, Jason was finally on the couch, minus his boots, helmet, holsters and jacket.

“You know, when you said that I should come over to see your apartment, this isn’t what I had in mind,” Jason muttered.

“Oh stop complaining. What did you want, dinner?”Artemis tore off her vambraces, grabbed her box of medical supplies and sat down beside him. Happily, he’d already done her the favour of exposing his arm. At least now she wouldn’t have to hear him whine about how he had to keep repairing his suits.

“Yeah, except I’d be cooking. Let’s face it Arty, your skills are meager at best.”

The Amazon frowned as she cleaned the wound. “You need stitches.”

He sighed. “Figured that. Just make it quick.”

Artemis prepped the area wordlessly. She liked to think that she was good at it. Steady breaths, in and out. She could see Jason glaring at the ceiling from her peripheral. What she didn’t like was his insistence of no painkillers. He had done nothing to not deserve the ease that they brought. But she respected his decision, as mindless as it may be, and so she continued.

“Try not to pull these within the first week this time,” Artemis said, finishing up.

Jason flexed his hand, once, twice. “Set the shoulder too,” he breathed.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, gritting his teeth. He braced himself against her as Artemis forced the bone back into place. She ignored the string of foul curses that spilled from his mouth.

”Good?” Artemis asked, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.” His nostrils still flared. He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Mostly.”

Artemis grunted, finishing up setting his shoulder. “ You’re staying for the night,” she finally stated.

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, you oaf. You’re not invading– I brought you here.” She cracked a smile. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to steal some of your wardrobe back from me.”

“Well damn, I can’t pass up that, now can I?”

Artemis grinned, an action that was becoming increasingly more frequent. “No you can’t. Now shove over, you’re taking up the whole couch.”

Jason moved over. “You know, getting a sweater when you’re cold instead of stealing body heat from me will just be easier for both of us.”

The Amazon curled onto the couch, huddling against Jason’s uninjured shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

____________

Despite the constant throbbing in Jason’s shoulder, he couldn’t seem to wipe that goddamn stupid grin off of his face. His sutures ached and he was sure he’d lost all circulation in foot, yet his chest swelled with contentment.

Artemis had fallen asleep beside him, still in her uniform. She had, apparently, deemed taking a nap on top of him more important than changing into something more comfortable. Her quiet breathing blew a strand of hair from her face every time she exhaled. Jason watched for a moment before bushing it away.

She looked peaceful, relaxed, younger even. He could picture her as a normal college student, living a normal life free of violence. The scars that ran up her bare arms told him otherwise– the life she lived, the life they lived, was quite the opposite. But what always fascinated him was how she never hid them. She was not ashamed of them.

Jason glanced at his sutures, which was most definitely going to leave a mark. It wasn’t vanity that drove him to hate them. He knew that much. He hated the reminder that they brought. You aren’t good enough. Look what you’ve done to yourself. Look at your mistakes. He hated the mistakes that littered his body.

“Exhale, Jason.” Artemis.

Jason obeyed. “Sorry I–”

She shushed him. “You get tense when you think too much.” She thought for a moment. “Do you wish to talk?”

Her intuition left him silent for a moment. “It can wait until tomorrow.. You should get some sleep anyway...”

“That can wait.” Artemis sat up. “What has been bothering you?”

He laughed dryly. “It’s stupid... so stupid...”

She tilted her head, causing her hair to fall into her face. “And yet the fact that it bothers you negates its stupidity.”

“I guess...” Jason trailed off. He could trust Artemis. “Just... how do you deal with it?” He took a breath. Woah, make your sentences clear. “The scars, I mean. I just... whenever I see mine, I...”

“Remember where they came from?”

“Yeah, but like, in a bad way.”

Artemis was silent for a moment. Then she took Jason’s hand and traced several scars that trailed down her back. “Outside of Bhana-Mighdall, Man’s World had a testing ground for weapons. As a girl... Akila and I used to practice there sometimes. There were... several mines still active in the area and one day...” She sucked in a breath. Jason ran his thumb over her hand, offering what little comfort he could. “We were both hit. Had to drag ourselves home by the skin of our teeth.” Artemis offered him a small smile. “ But we made it. We survived it. Yes, our stupidity was what got us into that problem, but we made it out. And we trained so that it would never happen again.”

“So you’re saying scars are your way of flipping off the universe?”

Artemis laughed. It was short, but by God, was it beautiful. “Essentially, yes.”

Jason pursed his lips, thinking. “You know, you might have been a dumb kid, but I think I got you beat.”

She smirked. “Do you, now?”

He guided her hand to the whitened mark cutting through his eyebrow. “You don’t grow up in a city watching a kid your age jumping around on rooftops without getting some ideas. The rooftops in Park Rowe were pretty close together, so I thought it was probably as safe as I could get. I even found a mattress to act as a mat if I fell.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “I was a dumb kid. So I jumped, and whoosh.” He pantomimed falling to the ground.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. The good thing was that I landed mostly on the mattress.”

“What do you mean, mostly?” Artemis exclaimed.

“Well, I hit my head on the ground. Got a concussion. And this. I was scared that I needed stitches because I knew Ma couldn’t pay for that.”

“Alright, that was dumb, but still doesn’t match going to play in a minefield,” Artemis remarked.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t write me off yet Arty! Don’t forget; I stole the tires off the goddamn Batmobile and had the nerve to attack Batman for it.”

“Are you competing with me to be the dumbest Outlaw?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They stared at each other for a moment before they both broke down laughing. Artemis was the first to regain herself. “Well, here’s to flipping off the universe.”

“Amen.”

#jaytemis week 2020 #jaytemis #jaytemis week day 7 #jason todd #artemis grace #rhato 2016 #rhato #dc comics #red hood #red hood and the outlaws

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docfuture · 4 years ago

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Princess, part 10

[This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16. Links to some of my other work are here. Updates were theoretically biweekly–more realistically, I’m going to try to get the next one out by early July.]

Previous: Part 9

Flicker was going to lose pieces of self. She could put memory summaries in the Database, but that wasn't enough. She could only permanently store her emotional context in her squishy human brain, which was offline. This constricted connections between memory, place, and time. ��Her older memories should be intact. When the isotope exchanges were complete and she could finally restart everything and heal, everything should still be there. But that didn't help now; anything old that she didn't already have loaded into her speed mind was inaccessible, and any new context would be ephemeral--gone after her next proper sleep. And that 'should'... wasn't a would. Itchy spots in her speed mind hinted at losses on the boundary, reflexes and habits needed for her squishy and speed halves to work together that she might have to relearn. Her speech synchronization problems might return, or her chronic self-interrupting. Old sensory issues might come back, too. Those losses might extend to memory access. Which was a little scary. Moments perfectly preserved in a box did her no good if she forgot where she put the box. Perhaps because the original link to the first box was now in a junk box labeled 'Misc' on a shelf somewhere. But that was life when she wasn't technically alive, with a heart that couldn't beat, lungs that couldn't breathe, and a whole reconstituted flesh body locked down in suspended chemical animation while the isotope exchanger worked. Force fields helped protect everything else from her still-considerable radioactivity. She probably wouldn't remember exactly how the half-pain, half-itching from her speed body felt, or how her claustrophobia was combining with sensory deprivation to make everything more unpleasant. The best she could do was to take notes for the Database, which she could finally talk to again. Slowly. Doc had rigged up inductors to transmit visual signals that her speed mind could sense. They could give her low res video if she slowed down to near human speed, but for anything faster she was limited to text. She was already used to virtual typing, and there were more inductors to pick that up. The biggest problem was lag--if she typed too fast, she had to wait and watch characters slowly appear to catch typos. She was watching slowly updating video stills of Doc as a background while they talked by text. It was way better than nothing. "... too many versions of the 'alien invasion' story out," sent Doc. "It wasn't worth trying to correct them. The Volunteer kept his press brief honest but short and vague--he mentioned non-hostile non-humans who were injured but would recover, he just didn't say they were whales--and then flew off before anyone could ask him any more questions." "Okay," sent Flicker. "Can we go back a bit? No immediate crisis is good. But I'm still missing a lot. It's making my mind itch. More. It's itching for other reasons, too, but this you can help fix." "No problem. What first?" "What was the bit with Breakpoint? He wasn't trying to warn you or me?" "No. I got a notification just as you started your final run. The warning was for Journeyman, he listened, and the danger passed." "More details, please? Did you forward the warning?" "I didn't need to; Journeyman was standing beside him. That was one of the precautions I arranged before you left, and they were quite willing to help. Journeyman had his own detection setup coordinated with the Database, and they had the attack triangulated in a fraction of a second. And then Breakpoint got the danger sense spike, just before Journeyman wanted to port, which delayed them for a second." "A trap?" "Possibly. But I think a potential time loop was more likely." "Caused by what?" "I don't know." "Surely you have a theory?" "Lots. Theories are easy, distinguishing them is harder," sent Doc. "Too many parameters we don't know. But your trap did confirm the attack was based on some kind of foreknowledge--the timing was far too precise for any other explanation to make sense. Perhaps Journeyman and Breakpoint would have caught the attacker, triggering a loop. Or killed it, with the same result. Or they did get caught in a loop and broke out." "How would that even work?" "Several possible ways. Time loop theories are hard to falsify. But after it was safe, they ported in and swept the arrival location for clues. The attacker apparently came from and returned to the Topaz Realm, a common intermediate stop for interdimensional travelers who wish to evade pursuit or tracking. The two of them declined to pursue further, and returned unhurt, though rather drained from the double port. Journeyman went to ground quote 'somewhere safe' unquote, and Breakpoint is with Jumping Spider. I'm sure we'll get additional details later, but the attacker was almost certainly an extradimensional being who portaled in specifically to try to assassinate you, with implications of harm to the entire planet." "And got away. Whee." "An overt repeat attempt seems unlikely. This was a clear worldwide threat, in a way Hermes was not, and now there is a specific event to track from. The compatible world probability background has shifted by quite a bit. There are a wide variety of entities with extraordinary perceptions and abilities that are now aware of the attacker and united in the desire for Earth to keep existing, if little else. The Database has been getting messages from all over the world. Hideki told me he already had to gently dissuade a group of young Japanese superhumans from charging off on an interdimensional mission of vengeance. They vividly recall your help during the quake, and feel inclined to track down whoever tried to kill you given the slightest opportunity. I was also asked to convey their wishes for your speedy recovery." "That's..." Some emotional thing. But Flicker didn't have a working human brain to feel it, and her emulator wasn't up to the task. "...nice." She sent a note to the Database to relay a socially safe thank you. Her mind still itched. "Okay," she sent. "Thanks for the summary. Now... I have a problem. Your UI works--I can talk to you and the Database. And if the exchanger were going to be done in a couple of hours, that would be enough. But it's going to take longer. I can tolerate the physical part--but I'm not so sure about the psychological. Sensory dep, and I have to keep shifting what I'm doing to maintain concentration. I've been recording the more organized parts of my raw impressions and alerts into the Database. But it's as tedious as hand-typing an endless stream of hex codes. That's making my attention wander. I've lost my spot a couple of times already and had to pattern match to find it again. I hate to complain, but is there anything better you can manage?" A pause, and the background picture updated to show Doc with his hands clasped in front of his face, looking somber. Then he started typing again. "I've been fabbing something that may help. I'll let you know when it's ready." The rhythm of the isotope exchanger changed slightly, the ion beams stopped, and the discomfort eased a little. A message from the Database appeared: "First pass complete, left leg." "Well," sent Doc. "Ready to start lowering the tritium load in the bone marrow of your other leg?" "Yes. But it doesn't really matter," she sent back. "It's the next thing. We need to get as much as we can done while I keep my chemistry clamped down or I don't get a livable body back." "Yes. We may be able to speed up later. But at least it's working." "Yeah..." ***** Tedious hours passed. Then there was a pause and shift, while radiation-hardened robots installed a new set of inductors for her head, along with an elaborate set of shielding, wiring and cooling pipes. Flicker took an all too brief run around Doc's test range. Even though she was still blind and deaf, the flow of air and the sudden bright crispness of her mass sense made it a welcome break. But she made a little of that air radioactive--she was still giving off too many neutrons--so it would have been indulgence to stay outside the force fields for more than a millisecond or two. Then tests and adjustments. Fiddly and annoying, but Doc was determined not to set off an immune reaction from Flicker's high speed nervous system, and DASI concurred with the need for caution. Another shift... And a world turned on. A better interface, through a virtual body representation. Audio, distorted but functional. Video. And faster text and data when Flicker sped up. The grinding background of confinement, restlessness and inability to fully relax was still there. As was the discomfort from the isotope exchanger. But her sensory deprivation was greatly reduced. It worked. There was one rather jarring issue. "I feel this sense of cosmic dread," she said. "Like I'm on the edge of a precipice to dimensions I can't even see, and might at any moment slip and lose my connection to sanity, or drag anything and everything I care about into the abyss." "Good," said Doc. "Sounds like your alarm systems are appropriately compatible." The wide video window showing his image floated in front of her. The darkness around the edges was still flecked with the writhing static of closed-eye hallucinations, but they were less intrusive. "Good? It's not exactly--" She blinked and suddenly everything was gone, then the old interface returned--text and a fixed picture. And the static everywhere else. She sped up. "DASI?" she sent. "What happened?" "You blinked for too long, and the interface interpreted it as a user shutdown request. I can adjust that, but the safety shutdown thresholds are necessarily quite stringent. One moment." Another blink and Doc was back, eyebrow raised. Half a second had passed. "--fun," she finished. "Fun was not a design goal," said Doc. "This is a high performance multi-sense cybernetic interface. It's not remotely safe. The basic sensory relays I started you with were already as high-bandwidth as I could manage safely. But they weren't enough. I don't know how to make a full cybernetic interface that's comfortable but not psychologically addictive. I keep the controller in the vaults for a reason. I fabbed spare inductors. They'll probably break frequently. And shut down for other reasons. Don't get attached to the interface. I wouldn't even consider using it if your biological brain was functional. I put together a list of other ways it's dangerous. It's just not as dangerous as risking sensory deprivation for what might be days." "Okay. But if you think the alarm system for my high speed mind is compatible with a cybernetic interface... Don't I already have one?" Doc looked down, then back up. "Possibly. But you'll want to be careful how you conceptualize that. Because right now, if your body has a cybernetic interface, you might be that interface. So it's not a good time to shift your self image." "Yeah, yeah, because my flesh body is dead," said Flicker. "I get it. My internal conceptualization has been pretty consistent. Messed up, but consistent. It's like a meat demon with a little metal bug on the forehead. High speed mind is the bug. And only the demon is dead. The bug is mostly worried about staying sane and connected. And I've got the connected part now, but sane requires something to do. I can't move while the exchanger is working, can't put things in long-term memory, and my emotion emulation is bad, so my options are limited." Doc put a hand on his chin and looked back at her image in the video window. "Could definitely be worse. You'll want to test the interface at speed. DASI will keep monitoring. Perhaps we can tune down the doom response a bit. And Armadillo will be here in a little while. She's rather better at cheering people up than I am. I'm sure she'll be happy to talk about whatever you want." "Might help a little. But I'm not sure talking will be enough. Sec." Flicker sped up. The interface speed lagged noticeably and the temperature of the inductors rose. The temperature in her brain would have gone up too, if she hadn't already been entropy dumping to get rid of the heat from radioactive decay and the isotope exchanger. She skimmed the hazard list. Doc hadn't been exaggerating. And the full interface would not be able to keep up with her mind if she sped up all the way. The problem was cooling, which was the usual problem that stopped Doc after he'd solved everything else. So. Use restraint. Don't push it all the way to the limit, and it would break less frequently. She adjusted some preferences with DASI's help, so the interface would gradually degrade to monochrome text and virtual typing input at higher speeds. That would give her fast responsiveness as well as the increased sensory feedback she needed when she slowed back down. A few tests verified it worked. At DASI's suggestion, she tried taking notes at speed with the better interface as a direct substitute for long term memory. A slower and more structured version of the memory dumps she did before sleeping when her memory was overleveraged and she couldn't stuff everything into squishy brain in time. With the memory dumps, she could put keys into her squishy brain to connect by reference--but not with everything locked down. More tests. The notes were accurate on rereading, though seemed kind of passive-aggressively gloomy. Upon reflection, she decided that was accurate as well. What to do? The data from Speedtest was recorded. Talking was... talk. Little point in reading or trying to learn. Introspection could become a problem fast--her mood was already pretty dark. But she couldn't get renewal from physical rest, so she was going to slowly go squirrelly from lack of sleep and contact with squishy brain. And she already felt the kind of frustrated dissatisfaction that she usually handled by going on patrol. Then she might still end up frustrated, but at least she'd saved lives. Now she couldn't even do that. She wasn't helpless. She still had a net connection, her database node, and assorted bots, both physical and virtual. But what was safe to try? She slowed back down. "Interface works," she said. "But the doom abyss is getting old real fast." Doc was studying his own display intently. He tapped out something on his keyboard then looked up. "How's that?" The tension eased somewhat. "Better," she said. "Less cosmic dread, more dangerous machinery in operation alert. I can live with that. But I could really use something to do." He shook his head ruefully. "I understand. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is nothing. But you have a very good chance of surviving your bit of existential roulette if you can manage to keep yourself together and stationary long enough for the exchanger to do its work." She frowned. "Is that what you call the kind of trap I set? I thought you said we're safe now." "No, I said further direct attacks were unlikely. Whether that's because they wouldn't succeed or aren't necessary is still open. We can't be reasonably certain until the next time you sleep, then wake up functional and something approximating sane." "That's disturbing." "Yes. But what's done is done." "So you don't think trying it was a good idea?" "I'm reserving judgement. And if you were going to try, the Moon was a better place than Earth. You minimized direct collateral damage. However..." A crooked grin. "Now probably isn't the best time for critical analysis. Survival and data recording were the right priorities once you made it back. We can hash out details later." "Yeah, but it does give me something to focus on, which I need. I think that finally getting to go fast was so wonderful, so freeing, that I got overconfident." Doc studied her image for a moment. "Based on my preliminary analysis of the Database summaries, I think you may be underestimating another effect. I can explain, if you think it will help." "Well, yeah." "When you left the earth's atmosphere, you were hit with mental changes and a flood of alarms and activations on top of your acrophobia. Which you coped with very well. I think your caution, careful safety compartmentalization, and lockdown checking were absolutely correct and optimal reactions. Having a previously unknown part of your mind wake up and suggest you mess with Planck's constant locally? That would have terrified me. But you handled it." Doc waved a hand. "That was a way more drastic reaction than I expected, and means I need to rework a lot of my theories. Anyway, you took care of everything, and landed safely. You jumped to the Moon. Your landing message sounded like you were euphoric." "I was." "And your fear went away. You had mass again, the alarms stopped, and you were finally getting to run Speedtest. Of course you were feeling great. And I made a mistake. Before you started your final run, I suggested you go as fast as you felt safe. I didn't include a stronger warning because I didn't want to interfere with your joy. But I knew. I know that feeling, it's Now I Am Invincible, it's incredibly dangerous for a superhero, and I knew the way you usually keep it in check is your care for all the people and other living things on Earth, and there was nothing living on the Moon except you." He looked down. "I should have warned you. I didn't. I'm sorry." "Doc, no," said Flicker. "I'd have done it anyway. Nobody died. I got the data. And whoever or whatever that was, we needed to know about them, and now we do. I'm going to keep going." She bared her teeth. "Even when I can't move for a while." Doc kept looking down for a moment, then wiped his eyes and looked back up. "Yeah. On that note, it's time to move the exchanger focus again, and Armadillo is here. Shall I invite her in?" "Sure. And thank you for--" She waved the hand of her virtual body. "This, and the list of reasons why it's dangerous. Both. They both help." The crooked smile was back. "I do what I can manage."

Next: Part 11

#FallofDocFuture #FallMisc

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sugaxjpg · 6 years ago

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02 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 8,048

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! Before anything else, Laura and I would like to thank you all for the overwhelming support we’ve received for part one. We are beyond thrilled that you guys are liking this series as much as we are!! Without further ado, let’s get down to business (to defend the huns).

“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this, you hear me?” you screamed against the phone for the third time in less than ten seconds. A high-pitched ding indicated the audio had been sent, and that was your signal to toss the device aside. Jungkook would not listen to it, like he had not listened to the other ten voice messages you had blessed his chatroom with.

The last message you had received from him had been short and dry, more of a user’s guide than a text. It exhibited his advanced SAT vocabulary and his outstanding talent to be concise. Lambda Kappa Pi. 11pm. Say you’re my girl and they’ll get you in. Good luck with the dress.

My girl, as if there was a dimension out of the multiverse you had been thrown into in which you would say such nonsense. My girl, your brain echoed, this time in his voice, that you imagined would be hoarse and whiny during sex. No, no, that was not an image you wanted in your mind.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook’s girl,” you spoke as you imagined yourself babbling at the entrance of the frat house, clad in that skin-tight little red dress. Imagination is a very powerful weapon to use against oneself, and it immediately transfigured you into a Legally Blonde character, one of the sweethearts from Delta Nu but with no rich daddy, no fake tanning, and no equilibrium to stand over the sky-challenging high-heels he had sent along with the dress.

You’d look far more like a clown that had just ran away from the circus, that’s for sure.

You clenched your jaw at the absurdity of that idea, ignoring the butterflies that begun dancing in your stomach. His girl. Stupid ass. You would never do something like th—

—Ding!

In a reflex, you practically threw yourself on your bed to reach for your phone, chest bubbling up with the ridiculous excuses that he could have sent back to you. Instead, however, what you were met with was a simple series of condescending texts:

Jungkook’s only neuron said: u’ll look great bby

Jungkook’s only neuron said: im getting heated just thinkin of u in that ;)

You said: You prick

You said: That dress doesn’t even cover my ass properly

Jungkook’s only neuron said: that was what i was hopin for

You groaned out loud as your eyes read his message, mind working faster than the quick progression of your thumbs against the screen — you better be ready for me to ruin you with the favor I have stored up, then, you texted back.

Jungkook’s response arrived all too soon. There was no physical time to toss the phone back onto the bed, to try the diminutive piece of clothing on and see if there was a way your boobs could survive without suffocating. As the notification blared through the speaker, you imagined him, expecting your reply by the phone, biting his nails. In your imagination, he was nervous, at least a bit; but Jungkook and his cohorts did not know nervousness, at least not when confronted to tests of women. They followed all those ludicrous bro-code-or-whatever-they-called-it rules; and making girls wait for their replies was in the book.

“Ruin or be ruined, that’s the world we live in,” you read out loud, trying to find in between the words Jungkook’s personal trademark. Unexpectedly, there was no baby. No typos. No superfluous exhibition of his very pompous personality. Had he asked for help? Perhaps Namjoon, the only one in the frat house with a functional brain. Maybe Yoongi, but it sounded way too contained to his taste.

“Quote your sources next time,” you typed rapidly, grinning all the way. “See you later, bby.”

Now Jungkook’s Only Neuron could type and ruminate over your odd response all he wanted. There would be no more texts until the party — except perhaps a picture or two of you in that dress, blurry and terribly illuminated. The ire of the gods would fall upon him when he tried to zoom in into your boobs only to find pixels. A taste of his own medicine, that was what you called this cruel stratagem.

Now, there were only a limited number of things which could count as social humiliation for you. As mentioned aforetime, failing a ridiculously easy class or exposing your underwear were near the top of the list, alongside some awfully personal experiences, but you never thought there would be something to top all your expectations. Turns out that 90’s movies make a so called “makeover” to be something great and empowering when, in reality, it had to be the spiritual equivalent of intestinal cramps in the middle of a road trip. And yes, you had been through that. No further comment.

Maybe the movie director of your life was sadistic. Maybe that experience was karma for ruining poor Jungkook’s mental health earlier that day. Whatever it was, it was the new number one on your list of social humiliation. You could not claim you hadn’t gotten anything out of that night — but experiences make you grow, right?

You knew you had fucked up the second you walked up to the fraternity house — that stupidly large, greek-like mansion that pulsated under the progression of the awfully loud music — and saw a pair of underwear on the grass, lost amidst a sea of bottles and beer cans. And then a bra. And then an used cond— Jesus Christ! Were those kids acting out Animal Planet? There were limits. There had to be. Goodbye to your long lost purity.

To top it all off, it was cold. Not nice, chilly cold, but winter-is-here kind of Game of Thrones bullshit. The wind was like cold daggers against your skin, piercing your naked legs as you moved closer to the entrance door, benumbing your senses to the fullest extent. Whatever it was that you had in store for Jungkook, it had to be equally torturous to that walk of shame — the night had not even started, and you were already constructing an escape plan.

“Hey,” you said as you stopped in front of two athletes, crossing your arms before your figure — thank God for your common sense, since the leather jacket you wore both covered your insanely tight boobs and gave you a bit of heat. You wouldn’t have started a conversation with them if not absolutely necessary and, in that case, they were blocking the passage. “Excuse me, please.”

One of them turned to you with arched eyebrows, looking you up and down, “You seem familiar,” he mumbled, infecting the atmosphere with a terrible scent of alcohol. To be fair, you thought you knew him too, but did not want to get into friendly terms with any of them. “Whatcha’ doing here?”

Hell, here goes nothing, “Jungkook called me here.”

“Jungkook, who?” The other one — the travel-sized counterpart — laughed, hitting his friend’s shoulder in his drunken haze. “We know no Jungkook.”

They were still blocking the entrance, and you were not in the mood to commence an arrogant dissertation on why they did know the Jungkook you were referring to, and why was their ruse so evident. Shivering inside the leather jacket, you tried to find a way around the words he wanted so desperately to hear. “I am his friend,” you said.

The smaller of the two scoffed. “Jungkook has no friends.”

“I thought you knew no Jungkook,” you smirked, devilishly, but the brainless pair would not subside in their efforts to rip a confession out of your — literal — cold body. “For fucks sake. I am his girl. Jungkook’s. The one that gets to fuck him every night while you two try to resist the homoerotic dynamics you have seen yourselves trapped into. Now let me in, Tweedledee.”

“A straight-up bitch. Hot.” They murmured as you made your way into the hall. Inside, a myriad of bodies crammed the room, pressed against one another. Girls in short dresses and stressed boys trying to get their attention roamed around, red cup in hand. Their scent was sweetly rancid, a mixture of alcohol, sweat and pheromones you would not be able to stand for long without a drink in your hand.

No. Wait. Probably wouldn’t be the wisest of ideas to be intoxicated while pretending to be someone else’s girlfriend for the night. You got awfully sincere when you had alcohol, and the last thing you needed was to ruin your saved favor, especially after going through all the trouble you did. Next step would not be to drink away your disgust, as compelling as that seemed to be, but to find out your pathetically inadequate fake boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath, you skirted the overabundance of bodies as you made your way past the main living room, finding solace in a somewhat calm corner of the ambient. You leaned your back against the asperous wall, taking your phone out of your purse. Numb, your thumbs cried under the effort of unlocking the device and moving to his contact — that arrogant smile on that nauseatingly perfect display picture — to type your impatient messages:

You said: Hey, loser

You said: I’m here already

You said: Where can I find you?

You waited for a few seconds to see if he would get online, but nothing appeared on your screen. For a moment your mind wandered towards the possibility of it all being a prank, after all: to get you, a serious and stuff girl, in that outrageously small piece of red fabric would be a huge joke on itself, even more if he managed to show it off to his friends. If that was the case, you would transfer colleges. Not to be overdramatic or anything.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I told you to wear a jacket, baby girl.”

The second you raised your gaze, you came to regret your reckless decision — not in the cutesy, hesitant manner you were feeling aforetime, but in the this-was-a-horrible-idea-and-my-life-is-over type of shit. Not because you were in any sort of danger, but because you accepted the fact that you had absolutely no way to control yourself near the sheer sexual temptation that was Jeon Jungkook. Not like that.

In all his glory, the idiot looked the best he ever did. With his black hair slightly disheveled, parted almost in the middle, and eyes gleaming under the neon lights of the frat house, he looked like he had just stepped out of a photoshoot for Men’s Health. His team’s jacket — blue and white, with the symbol of your college — had its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the veins in his forearms; unbuttoned so it presented you with the v-cut shirt he wore underneath, grey. You could see the outlines of his fucking abs with that crap. Muscle pig. It was absurd. He should take it off.

And of course, there were those fucking thighs. But you would not allow your gaze to fall under his waistline just yet. Yet.

A hum from his part interrupted your momentaneous fall into inferno, making you realize how quickly your heart started to beat. “You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck,” Jungkook acknowledged, his own eyes falling to your form, eyebrows slightly arched. “I always knew I had good taste for girlfriends.”

The silence between you was bubbling with an unspoken tension. Sexual, Cosmopolitan would have defined it as purely sexual. "Ten Easy Tips to Know if your Crush Wants you Too," or something of the sort would had been plastered all over the cover, where a barely-legal model would have judged you with doe-like eyes.

Jungkook's roseate tongue came out to wet his lips, to fill the void words had left behind with a heavy sigh. You wondered what those lips tasted like. Had you been asked to guess, you would have said cherry, or strawberry — although you were certain he had been drinking beer or, worse, cheap tequila shots.

The faux courage that had been motioning your body forward ever since you abandoned the dorms was now slipping in between your fingers as you reached for the hem of his jacket. "You look—" you started, but your mind went blank in a maelstrom of adjectives, amongst which you found barely no insults.

"—smoking hot?" Jungkook ventured. He was not mistaken, but still you scoffed. It the quintessence of your being, the endless sarcasm; you could not just abandon the truth of your nature for a boyfriend. A fake one, to top it all.

"I was going to say stereotyped, but hot also fits. I guess," index pressed against his chest, you leaned forward reducing the space between your bodies to naught. Air escaped in between his teeth when your lips caressed his ear with your murmurations. "What now, baby?" you mumbled, oblivious to his fingers as they traveled up your arm in a tender caress.

"Honestly?" the impish gleam of his eyes was a bad omen or, at least, the indication that you were not prepared in the slightest for what was to come. "I want to kiss the hell out of you, but not here."

For a second, you allowed yourself to forget that it was all an act. Without a second thought, you found yourself biting your lower lip in sheer desire. Lucky you, the boy would most likely think that was part of the fake love, and not your raging hormones coming out to say hello. “I would very much like that, yes,” you purred out against his skin, pressing your chest against his own. His heart was beating fast, but yours was no different. “Where to?”

Jungkook seemed to take a second to calm his nerves, clearing his mind from the impulses that flashed within his needs — if he were to be sincere, you two could forget that plan and just have a private place for yourselves, but there was a protocol to follow, his reputation at stake. “Couch,” that word came out in a serpentine whisper, muffled as if had been verbalized miles underneath the sea. Against your waist, his palm held your skin in an almost protective manner — yet, both of you were holding back now.

You hummed in agreement. His scent was intoxicating you, the heat of his body was monopolizing your most logical of conceptualizations. “Take me whenever you need me,” you agreed as one of your hands slid down his chest — jesus, those fucking abs — and towards his own hand. You intertwined his fingers in his, loving that position a bit more than you probably should. “Should we?”

If he had said something in return, you did not hear it. Before you could control yourself any further, the boy was already guiding you past the chaotic ocean of exhilarated bodies, holding down to your hand as if it was his own version of salvation. Jungkook was lucky he was hot — very fucking hot, at that — otherwise you would have cracked another joke or two about how eager he appeared to be. Still, you were certain it would backfire.

“I see you want to put up a show,” was what you said instead, accompanying his harsh movements as the two of you arrived upon the center of the room — the heart of the party, if you could say that. From your peripheral vision, you could see splashes of blue and white moving around, signaling that more of his teammates were around. Classic show off. “Want everyone watching.”

“You have no clue, babe.” Jungkook turned around just in time so he could see the glimpses of lust coruscating inside your eyes. Bedroom eyes. Cute. “I want that jacket off.”

“No deal,” you told him promptly. With a groan, the boy threw himself on a beige couch nearby, sitting somewhat close to where another two jocks conversed vigorously, waving their red cups in the air like they were not half full. It was only a matter of seconds before they saw the two of you — more precisely you — and his pretty spectacle would finally begin. “Why do you want to expose your girlfriend like this?”

It was no problem. He could take it off himself.

As a response, Jungkook simply placed his hands on his thighs, signaling you that it would be your seat for the night — seems like you would be sitting in his lap, after all. “Come here, baby,” he requested. Okay, you would be lying through your teeth if you said that the place did not appear to be as inviting as possible. “Let me have a taste of you.”

To hell with it. If you were going to act it out, you might as well put up a show, and calm down your raging hormones as you did so.

And fuck, there were some things that 90s movies could never prepare you for. There was no scene, no soundtrack, no music video able to distract you from how firm his legs were as you sat down on top of them, dress slightly moving up your thighs. There was no director, no storyline that could guide your hands around his neck as you tilted your head and closed your eyes, falling to the absolute misery that was Jeon Jungkook. There was nothing in the entire world that could have made you pull away.

What a terrible fucking idea.

Jungkook groaned as soon as your lips met, quick to set the pace as a quick, needy, sloppy kiss. His hands, before so vacillating, now had traveled to your ass, where he squeezed your flesh, making you press down your hips against his, not letting it go for a second. You melted against his kiss, allowing yourself to sigh and moan against his mouth as his tongue encountered yours. Lacking places to hold onto, your hands moved to his cheeks, then to his hair, intertwining in his black locks and pulling on them.

Okay, there were things you regretted. You thought there was nothing capable of topping the preposterous plan of pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, but that was because you had not reached that point of the night just yet. Because you had still not pulled away just enough so you could speak, caressing his lips with your own, speaking in a voice so filled with lust that you were surprised yourself. “Is that all you can do, kiddo?” you provoked him. “Come on, Jeon, is this how you treat your girl?”

He smirked. “Believe me, princess, there’s nothing I’d love more than treat you the way you deserve. Anything for you. But, you see, the audience is waiting and, as much as I would love to fuck you raw in this couch, I’d rather give the show I promised, and then renegotiate the initial clauses of our little contract,” then, a small pause, “if you are interested, of course.”

The boy was an idiot, or so you had thought: Jeon Jungkook, the dumbass that lets his dick make every essential decision, and doesn’t grasp even half of the references you throw at him. Apparently, that was not the case, and his intelligence was extensive only when he had to protect his pride and bring to term an important business. In other words, he wasn’t dumb, he wa just a selfish little prick.

Fingers sauntering up your thigh, Jungkook murmured in-between delicate kisses, and it made it impossible for you to deliver a witty remark. Every few words he would stop to taste your flesh with the tip of his tongue, and then nip it with his teeth. Lost in the feverish reverie of his tender caresses, you abandoned yourself to the feel of his kisses as his lips marked the path towards your jaw, your cheek. With a sigh falling from your swollen lips, you hoped to express the thirst he had incited, but he merely watched your reaction, diverted. Motherfucker. He knew what he was doing.

“For now,” he said against your ear, marking each word with a tap of his finger against your thigh. “This will have to do.” His thumb slid past the hem of your skirt and fuck, how you wished he were to continue his journey towards your underwear. There had been no specifications about that matter, but you had added your distinctive touch to the outfit. Jungkook did not know yet, but he would have loved to take that off you.

“I really think you can step up your game, Jungkook.” You looked around, biting your lips. None of the players around you were particularly interested in your little affair. Short skirts and exhibitionism were the daily bread of all those jocks. Luckily, that night no one had pulled out their dicks to measure them or start a peeing contest. Perhaps later in the night, when alcohol run freely through their bloodstream, eliminating their inhibition — or what was left of it, anyways. “This show of yours will impress no one.”

As if motioned by the fuel of a good challenge, Jungkook pounced over your lips. His touch was no longer delicate, contained, or meticulous, as it was before. Earlier, all he had wanted was to create a beautiful painting in which you, a girl that would have never had any interest for the jock in the class, was head over heels for him. He cared not about his audience, not anymore, as he could not bring himself to think of the friends he was supposed to impress. His only and most primal desire was to prove himself, to erase the disdainful sneer tainting those lips that were like nectar against his tongue.

You threw yourself off his lap and leaned your back against the arm of the sofa, being trapped between it and his large figure. In the impetus of his sudden adoration, you lost your hold on reality and allowed for him to overtake you, pressing his chest against your own. Jungkook’s hand in the small of your back cushioned your descents to the inferno of his hips pressed against yours, hands exploring your waist, and the curve of your breasts over the tight dress.

It was getting more and more difficult to come to your senses when all you could feel were his palms against your breasts, only to go down to your ass a second later. Your dress was being pulled upwards, your heart overtaken by the intoxicated by rhythm of the song as one of his legs moved in between yours, pressing down on your core — gradually at first, but then strong enough for you to moan loudly against his mouth. This kid was playing with fire. You loved it.

You were out of breath and out of mind when a voice called from the outside world, that universe of flashing comets and red asters circulating around your sweltering bodies. “Hey kid! Jungkook!” the unknown timbre insisted further and, before you could recognize it, Jungkook had pushed himself away from you to smile at a stranger. Whoever it was, you wanted him killed for interrupting your search for nirvana. “You know we have rooms for that kind of unholy shit. Leave all the exhibitionism for Jimin, he loves it.”

With a smirk, his victory became plastered across his douchebag face, “I got carried away, sorry,” Jungkook explained, lips shining with the remnants of your gloss. His hand was still against your waist, but he showed no shame when he winked in your direction, purposefully following your eyes as they grew darker — he was loving it. “Tastes like heaven, y’know?”

The other guy, whose name you could not quite recall, simply rolled his eyes at the out-of-character sentence, “Whatever you say, dude,” he mumbled underneath the music, unaffected by show you two had put up. Instead, his gaze seemed to be a bit lost in the remanent liquid that dwelled on the bottom of his red cup — poor kid was completely wasted. “Uh, by the way, before I forget. Namjoon has been looking for you for like two hours or whatever. He says, and I quote, that he wants to see it or he won’t believe it.”

Jungkook’s smile grew by a few millimeters, finding in that sentence the opportunity he needed. He didn’t need half of your GPA to understand what his friend was referring to, “Yeah, sure thing, man,” he answered. You were amazed how casually he was acting for someone who still had one hand holding tightly to your ass, but you could not claim you did not like it. In fact, he could strip you naked for all you cared, fake boyfriend or not. “Where is he, by the way?”

Chewing on his words for a second, the guy paused. His chocolate-colored eyes got lost in the horizon and, at last, you came to understand that he must have consumed something other than alcohol — hey, no judgement, you were not precisely the morally superior person in that conversation. “He was at the game room with the dudes. I don’t know if they’re still there.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook exclaimed, his palm squeezing your ass once again. Only then did you notice that, in the meantime, his shirt had rolled up a bit. Now you totally could see those abs you have always dreamt about and, good lord, they were even better than what you imagined. If you were not acting then, you would have cursed out his unnamed friend for interrupting that slack of paradise — but hell, the ghostly sensation of his lips on yours still got the best of you. Fucking prick. He was too powerful. “Thanks, Tae. You didn’t see anything.”

Tae… Taehyung. Oh, now you remembered. The kid who got high and ate pizza from the bottom of the pool in freshman year. Disgusting and slightly worrisome. You thought some memories could be left forgotten.

Taehyung suspired. “I did, though,” only then did his gaze navigate back to you, lingering on your face for a couple more seconds than necessary. You didn’t know if it were the drugs acting up, or if he was examining your artificially naive expression. “Hot choice of panties, by the way. Your ass looks great in lacy black. Cheers to that.”

“You have really good taste, buddy.” With a radiant smile, you agreed. Past the blur of weed and alcohol, Taehyung replicated the gesture, and raised his red cup in a giddy toast. Whether he was lauding the glorious roundness of your ass, or the intricate beauty of your one and only pair of expensive panties, you did not care. There was no use for shame within those walls, especially when your ass was indeed hot confined within the soft lace. “Imaginary cheers to that.”

It was a moment of amicable comradery, even though Taehyung was one shot away from becoming the buffon of the party. Around your waist, Jungkook’s fingers tightened but, before you could turn around to face his predictable displeasure, the moment ended, and you were presented with a luciferous smile.

“Noted. Thank you dude, see you around.” Jungkook screamed over the loud bass of a terrible remix of a very popular song you wished was shorter. The constant chit-chat developing around did not help communicate but, luckily, you were not required to hold a challenging conversation that night. With a peck in the lips and a light squeeze of your ass, Jungkook prompted you to move. It was strangely loving — for a jock, at least.

Once anew, he guided you through the crowd, a hand in your waist and the other buried deep in one of the pockets of his jacket. The picture was magazine-worthy. One of those blurry shots, taken with a Polaroid, that could had made it into the cover of an Indie album — even if Jungkook could have starred in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad, jacket and all.

“Where is that fucking game room?” The question felt extremely bitter against your tongue when you had to wipe someone else’s sweat off your arm. The party was heating up, and not in the good way. “Please tell me it isn’t some Fifty Shades of Grey shit.”

“Didn’t picture you as one of those.” Jungkook let go of your waist to interwine his fingers in yours. It was calming, the chilliness of his hand against your sweltering skin. “But no, here we never watched that. The dudes are, you know, more into anal compilations and shit like that— not me!” He rushed to say, hands up in a gesture of defeat. “Baby Jesus wouldn’t not approve.”

That was, by far, the weirdest conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Pity, now that I thought we would make a great pair.” You sighed. “I guess I’ll have to find another hot dude to watch my kinky porn with.”

“I— sweet lord.” With shaky hands he massaged his cheeks. You were exhausting, even for him. Good. “We’ll discuss that later.” Jungkook opened one of the doors in the hallway, leading into a big space that was, precisely, only meant to game. “Now we have business to do.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you took a couple steps into the large area, absorbing its details. The first thing you noticed, as your company closed the door behind you two, was that it was soundproof — finally, a blessing for the night. As the excruciating buzzing in your ears still lingered, your hearing started to focus on the diverse conversations that dwelled beyond those closed doors. From what you could notice, there had to be around fifteen people in there — stereotypical jocks and cheerleaders, if you were to be quite honest — and they were mostly segregated into two smaller groups. One of which, you recognized, had the individual you two had been looking for.

Now, Kim Namjoon was a specimen of his own kind. You had no idea what kind of satanic pact had he resorted to, but it had been good enough to gift him the brain of a Harvard professor and the body of a professional athlete — all wrapped up in that team jacket, which suited him so dangerously well. You would be lying through clenched teeth if you were to say you had not checked him out at least once or twice during your shared Advanced Literature classes — but that was a secret that would be buried with you. Again, he was still one of those fraternity types, and blowing up their egos was as easy as blowing other, less christian areas.

Again, you would be lying if you said you had not considered that either.

Jungkook’s arm found the curvature of your waist once again, making you fall back into your usual acting state. Next to you, the boy was smiling freely — not in a sympathetic manner, but in a I’m-getting-good-sex-tonight kind of smile. He could keep dreaming, for all you cared. “What’s up, Kim?” he cheered, guiding you around the grey couch. Considerably large, it was surrounded by two armchairs, forming a square-like shape in the center of the room. On the wall next to it, a baseball game was silenced on the LED screen. “Thought I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

Namjoon had his elbows resting on a marble table, seating on one of the tall benches that surrounded it. You were surprised he had even found empty space in there, since all you could see was a pandemonium of empty bottles and pizza boxes. “I should be one one saying that, Jeon.” The other jock smiled just as freely, exposing those dimples you had always found unbearably cute. He did not look at you for a second. “You are not one to vanish during a party. Did you get laid or something?”

“See, Namjoon, your friend Jungkook is trying to get laid tonight, but let’s see how that goes, right honey?” You butted in, to Namjoon’s dismay. Very delicately, like the Disney princess you were not. You sat on the couch, paying no mind to the many diverse types of stains dotting it. Kim Namjoon was not going to ignore you, like you were a nothing but a pretty decoration Jungkook carried around to show off — especially not when you could beat his non-existent genius ass any day during a debate. “Hi, Namjoon. Didn’t see you in class last Wednesday.”

“Hangover.” He explained, taking a bite off a chewy slice of cheese pizza. “I have to confess I am surprised. I thought you were joking when you said you two were—”

“—dating, yes. I’m a married man now, Namjoon. No more getting laid with just anybody.” Jungkook flopped by your side. His hand went immediately towards your naked knee, and there it stayed. Very subtle.

“What do you guys talk about?” Namjoon pried, impertinently. In his timbre you could perceive a hint of disbelief, and it was understandable. He had seen you in action, going after your debate opponents like a shark in bloody waters. Jungkook was, compared to the you he had witnessed, a kindergartener in nappies, and he simply couldn’t comprehend how the two of you could work together — or even compliment each other, honestly.

“Volleyball.” Jungkook said, with an enthusiasm that made your wry smile pathetic. “She loves volleyball.”

Namjoon crackled at the unexpectedly joyful response. “Never seen her in a game.”

“I’m more of a theoretical fan of — of the sports.” Eyes disappearing into the fakest smile, you tried to escape the trap Jungkook had thrown you into. Namjoon was correct. You had not set foot in a court ever since high-school, and even back then you had only done so because it was mandatory. “I have watched Haikyuu at least thrice. I’m an expert.”

“She’ll come to the next one.” Jungkook kissed your cheek, interrupting your excused before it was too late. The touch of his petal-like lips was, at the very least, pleasant. “We made a deal. She wears my jacket and I use the shortest pants I own for the game.”

Namjoon chuckled at the idea, still skeptical. You knew he would be a hard one to convince, since he usually saw through your bullshit — both in debates and in real life. “Yeah, right,” was all that he managed to say, still dodging your gaze. Oh, you saw what he was doing. Sneaky motherfucker. Sly little snake. By avoiding you and focusing on your fake boyfriend, he was both pressing on the one easier to slip on the lie, and annoying you. He knew how you got when you were hot-headed and that was, once again, a recipe for disaster. “In all seriousness, weeaboo anime aside, what do you… theoretically like about volleyball?”

No eye contact still. Fair. Two could play that game.

“Physics,” you answered within a heartbeat, almost surprising yourself by how naturally that response came from in between your lips. Not necessarily a lie, too. But that was a long story. “I told you this already. Volleyball can be explained with high school-level of mechanics. Energy and work, force, projectile motion… You know the deal.”

Namjoon hummed, watching closely the line of cheese that dripped down his pizza. “Yeah, I know the deal,” he told you. He had not bought it. “And I know you know it too. My question is,” he paused, looking up to point at Jungkook. “Does he?”

Well, you just had to know it would backfire like that. Still, you barely had time to feel panic starting to germinate in your throat before Jungkook interrupted the conversation with flawless grace, “Not much, that is why she’s teaching me,” perfect. Simple. Fail proof. You could barely believe that the single neuron that inhabited his mind managed to make a synapsis with itself and come up with that. “Yo, man, why are you so defensive all of a sudden? You’re making my girl uncomfortable.”

My girl. You hated how much you liked that.

His friend hesitated for a second, chewing slowly on the piece of food. It didn’t seem like it was any good. In the very least, it was cold. “Yeah. My bad, dude. Bad week,” Namjoon was quick to apologize, which you did not believe for an instant. He was smarter than that, more arrogant than someone that would so fast admit to his own fault. “Guess I just can’t believe you managed to get a girl like Y/N. Life sucks sometimes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you were the one who asked it, even if both of you were thinking it. It was your turn to try and not to get defensive, but it was getting harder and harder by the second. You crossed your legs, which induced for your red dress to slip up your legs. Namjoon followed the movement, and then his gaze was stuck. Oh. Maybe there was another reason for his lack of eye contact. “Don’t tell me that the great captain Kim Namjoon is suddenly jealous.”

He shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. But you do look hotter than ninety-five percent of the chicks I’ve seen all year,” and then, his next sentences were directed straight at Jungkook. “I don’t know if you had the chance to see it already, man, but she has a great taste for underwear.”

Ninety-five was a good percentile, but you were indeed hot in that dress. Namjoon trembled, almost imperceptibly, when you slid your legs over Jungkook’s lap, to cuddle against his chest. In all honesty, the posture was not comfortable, not in that dress. Had you been back in the dorm, in your PJ’s, the tale would have been completely different; but Namjoon’s expression was a poem — a terrible one, at that — and that was enough satisfaction for the moment.

When you sighed, Namjoon replicated it, in a long-drawled, cheese-scented exhalation. The sound he emitted was pitiful, but it helped you comprehend fully the frustration the poor boy was submitted to, and the ultimate reason behind his pizza binge. His was a severe case of blue balls, and you were the one and only cause it. Cute.

“Namjoon, if you really want to address my exquisite taste in underwear, you can tell me directly,” you said. A thread of cheese remained in precarious equilibrium in between his lower lip and his hand, as he struggled for once to follow your words. The genius had short-circuited over lacy panties and the grossest kind of PDA. Another achievement unlocked in the marvelous experience that was college. It would look beautiful in your curriculum, right beside your volunteer work. “Jungkook is more used to seeing me without it. He wouldn’t understand our fantastic taste.”

“Babe,” Jungkook whined, caressing your thigh to make you cognizant of his presence. “I do love your underwear—”

“—Scattered all over your bedroom.” You whispered in the most impish little voice. By the glance he returned, Jungkook had loved the image. Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe you were in character and your discerning was altered, but you could have sworn his dick had twitched at the thought. Interesting.

To drown his sorrow, Namjoon took yet another slice of pizza. The boy could eat. He was still munching his previous victim, and it was making you hungry. Jungkook was very hot and all, but he had not offered to get you a drink or something to eat. Chivalry was, indeed, dead. “Let me ask you a question, Y/N,” Namjoon murmured in-between greasy bites. “It’ll be easy. I promise.”

“I’m all ears.”

“What is it, exactly, what made you fall for our ace?” Namjoon inquired. It was an unexpected question. A cheerleader could have asked the same, waiting you to offer a bland response in the trite language all popular girls had long mastered like: his big, big eyes; his toothpaste commercial worthy smile, the humongous size of his — not his brain, that was for certain.

But it was not a cheerleader the one to make the question, but Namjoon. Out of all the athletes in the house, Namjoon was the only one you had ever exchanged more than a few words with. Interesting words. The kind that — put together in a coherent sentence — form conversation two functional adults can take pleasure in. “Does he read Whitman to make you sleep?” He pressed further.

Before you could think twice, the words were already departing from your lips. “He rants about your pep-talks, that’s enough to have me snoring in seconds.”

He scoffed. “Nice comeback, it’s a pity that you’ve been avoiding my question like the plague,” Namjoon said in what appeared to be a groan, patience starting to run thin. At last, he appeared to have finished eating his horniness away, for he dropped the last slice of pizza back in the box. “Let me rephrase that, then—”

Next to you, Jungkook fumbled on his seat. “—Namjoon, bro, that’s enough,” he said firmly, almost an order. From the way Namjoon’s eyebrows moved together into a frown, you could tell that such serious demeanor was also uncommon amongst his group of friends. Jungkook was only serious in two situations: during games, and when his white knight complex had been activated. You would guess that was the latter. “I know it’s hard to believe, all right? Even I don’t buy it sometimes. But this is exactly why we didn’t tell you guys earlier, I knew you’d have a blast interrogating my girlfriend. And this is not cool, alright? It’s not cool that you’re over here talking about her underwear and acting like you’d be a total catch compared to me. Fuck that shit, dude, don’t ruin the night for us just because you got some jealousy stuck up your ass.”

Silence. The other boy took a second, then two, to chew what was left on his mouth, closely analyzing his friend. You could see the wheels moving inside Namjoon’s brain and — unlike Jungkook — he had more than one synapsis to make. “Hey, fair enough,” he said. And then he started smiling. Actually smiling. Putting-the-Cheshire-Cat-To-Shame kind of smile. “What has gotten into you tonight, uh? Jesus. I’m just fucking with you, didn’t think you’d get this overprotective. That’s some serious shit you’ve gotten yourself into, Jeon.”

Jungkook seemed to take an instant to fully digest the unforeseen change of demeanor, then joined his friend in his laugh. “Bro, what the fuck? You were annoying as hell,” he was clearly puzzled, even if you could see sheer alleviation in that smile. Oh, honey. He was not acting over there, was he? Poor kid really took that to heart. “Get outta here with that interrogation bullshit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Look at that, you already know one famous victorian character,” Namjoon sarcastically celebrated, turning back at you — still living in the apex of confusion. You should have stayed home and read a book, where men are predictable and fraternity athletes as just a ghost in your memory. “You’ve been a positive influence so far, Y/N, props to that. I’ve been trying to get him to at least watch the movies for ages.”

“He only agreed to watch it once I explained Iron Man featured in it.” Taking advantage of your fake-girlfriend privileges, you slid your hand under Jungkook’s shirt. Fingers dawdling over his warm skin, you delighted in the sensation of his muscles quivering under your touch. It would not be noticeable to Namjoon — although he was particularly sharp that night. Words encompassing your feathery caresses, you murmured into his ear. “I’m thirsty, babe.”

Namjoon looked away when you nuzzled Jungkook’s neck, to bury his jealousy under another pile of cheese.

“Do you want some beer?” Jungkook blinked twice, trying to decipher the sudden change in the inflections of your voice. It was no longer playful, teasing, but dripping something he could have only categorised as desire. Jungkook was dense, enough to miss the a very evident innuendo by a mile. “I can go get you something.”

“No, not that.” Your fingers treaded an undiscovered path towards the lines of his hips, and the hem of his pants. His brain had missed the memo, but his dick was extremely eager to catch up, and was now constricted against his belt. The moment he rose from the couch, the boner would be exposed, and it would give him the perfect opportunity to drag you away from the room and towards his bedroom. “Jungkook… Let’s go.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first.” He excused himself to Namjoon, who had decided to embrace his solitude by hugging the pizza box and returning his attention to the baseball game. His team was losing. Big night for Kim Namjoon.

Jungkook pecked your lips and scurried from below your body. The room was cold now that he had left, and Namjoon was not willing to talk.

“So… pizza, huh?” you said, fixing your clothes. The last thing our brave captain needed was to take another glimpse at your ass.

Namjoon stared into the screen, absorbed by the little figures moving around. It was hard to believe that someone like him could he find baseball so entrancing. “So…Jungkook, huh?”

There it was. Jealousy, in its rawest form. He would never be so explicit in front of Jungkook, they were friends after all, but with you Namjoon could say whatever thoughts crossed his mind. “You know Jungkook isn’t as stupid as he wants all of campus to believe. He might not be a genius like you, but he is smart. He’s just a little bit caught up in the popularity game,” you said. The words leaving your mouth surprised you. Kind words for Jeon Jungkook, what a night to be alive. “Don’t be so surprised, Namjoon.”

The baseball game was no longer as relevant, for Namjoon deigned to look at you. Browns knitted in incredulity, he dropped the last slice of pizza and cleaned his hands in the team jacket. Symbolically, it was not a good thing, but he was probably overdosing on cheese. “I’m not surprised. Maybe you like him, after all.”

“Maybe I do.” You confessed with a quick wink and a guilty smile. “He gives good head, too.”

“That’s too much information.” Namjoon was nauseated, but he would never say it aloud. There was also the possibility that it was not nausea the grimace transfiguring his cute face, but jealousy. “You should go get your boyfriend, though, I think he got lost in his own reflection or something.”

Just like Namjoon had suggested, you followed Jungkook’s trail towards the bathroom. Trail, as in asking the couples making out in the hallway where the bathroom was. The first pair had not responded you, they were too busy sucking each other’s tongues to even form a coherent sentence. Titty in hand, the man in the second pair of lovers, explained where to find the bathroom — that was also known as the knocking shop.

To be fair, you knocked, but the music was too loud and the sound too timid. When you received no indication from Jungkook, you opened the door. At first you could not see past the outrageously pink sink. It was horrifyingly ugly. Jungkook rested against it, his forehead was pressed against the mirror, his warm exhalations creating beautiful designs over the reflective surface. One of his hands gripped tightly the sink, the veins of his arms visible, like rivers you had loved to explore through your fingertips. His other hand was trapped within the confines of his jeans, pressed against his dick. With every sigh and every moan, he would roll his hips against his hand, fucking himself into oblivion. All signs of arrogance vanished from his features when he was about to cum. Vulnerability looked so pretty on him.

You wished there was a joke you could crack, even if to yourself, that could serve as a coping mechanism to whatever the fuck you were being presented with. Still, nothing came out of your lips besides a loud, slightly horrified:

“What the actual fuck, Jungkook?”

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darthspideys · 5 years ago

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Easier ~ 1

(Y/N) and Peter Parker don’t talk. There are a million reasons why, (or maybe there’s just one big reason). Both of them are dealing with the aftermath of tony starks death and not healthy ways. In an effort to get back to normal, they both go on the school trip to Europe, only to be thrust right back into the hero world. Someone needs to be the next Iron Man, but are either of them really ready for that?

“Everyone wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn’t always roll that way. Maybe this time.” -Tony Stark

“FRIDAY pull up yesterday's model.” (Y/N) put her feet up on the work table, and chewed absentmindedly on the twizzler in her hands. “Please.” She added, quickly though she knew the AI wouldn’t know the difference.

“Yes Ms. Stark, one minute.” The AI responded, slowly piecing together the model of the machine (Y/N) had been working on since the day after her father's funeral. Once it was fully together, she stood up, and played around with it for a couple of minutes. She grew and compressed edges, poked at the hologram and moved it around in circles. She wasn’t doing it for any type of research, or actually contributing to the design at all. The truth was that she was stuck.

After the couple minutes of playing with it were over, (Y/N) sat down again in the chair and let out a long frustrated sigh, as quietly as she could so no one in the house could hear her. “This has to work.” She said, biting down on the candy so hard she bit her tongue, “I don’t have any other options.” She thought for another minute and almost screamed out of frustration, “This has to work.” She threw her hands in the air, dramatically and one of the wrenches from the nearby workspace flew into her palm without warning.

She dropped it as soon as she could, and shook her hand witch glowed purple for a second before flickering out. “Ouch.” She rubbed her hand before looking back at the model. “Keep it together Stark, your going to figure this out. You have to figure it out.”

“FRIDAY tell me about the theory of the multiverse.”

(Y/N) tapped her fingers on the edge of the table as she listened. “According to MIT physicist Max Tegmark, ‘Our entire universe may be just one element — one atom, as it were — in an infinite ensemble; a cosmic archipelago.’ Which means that we could exist on one plane, next to a variety of different universes where dinosaurs still exist, or the Earth never formed at all.”

“But it can be smaller changes to right? Like for example Thanos never came to Earth, never found it in the first place?”

“Yes.”

“Pull up the model labeled time machine please?”

“Yes, Ms. Stark.”

(Y/N) stood up again and looked over the model her father had made months ago, right before the time heist as he had called it. He thought it was a time machine, but through her research, she’d found that he was wrong, they were all wrong. “Friday pull up the Banner audio file, the one I stared, and my research pages all side by side with the model.”

She’d done this multiple times the past few days, since she’d hit a wall on what to do with all the information she’d gathered. It had all started two days after her father's funeral, when Uncle Steve had gathered all the stones, and got ready to return them all back to their respective timelines. She’d been watching from afar, mostly because she knew that one of them was going to give her the pity face if they knew she was there. But bruce had said something about the “ancient one” telling him that if they didn’t return the stones then that reality would be in trouble and branch off.

(Y/N) had been in the woods that day to steal the stones. Looking back she knew the plan had been concocted only in grief and that in practice it wouldn’t have worked at all. Sure, she could’ve easily gotten the stones by pulling the briefcase out of caps hand with her powers and then making a run for it. But, she didn’t have a gauntlet to put them on, and there were heros lingering everywhere and it would only be a matter of time before someone caught her. Good thing she learned something else that day that would help her more than a few infinity stones ever could.

“So in theory-” She mused, “I could use this device to create a portal, and use the secondary device to find a universe that has what I need, and poof, we have liftoff.” She smiled but it quickly faded once she realized that it wasn’t going to be that simple. “Yeah, and y’know build said machine, and use it without anyone finding out. And who knows what kind of hell is going to break loose once I do it.” She paused, “FRIDAY has anyone else tried to build tried to build a similar machine to the model?”

“One second.” The table hummed as the AI searched through data. “Four months ago, the details and blueprints of the model were given to an american company for research purposes concerning the quantum realm.”

“Stark industries?”

“Fisk industries.”

“Your kidding.” (Y/N) sat up, “You have got to be kidding me. FRIDAY why wouldn’t the information be given over to our own in house researchers?”

“I don’t know, Ms. Stark.”

“This is proprietary technology, created by Tony Stark himself, and your telling me that they sold it off to Wilson Fisk, this could be extremely dangerous, who’s to say someone doesn’t just use this to go back and get the infinity stones?” (Y/N) said. “What about Hank Pym? Did he sign off on giving over the pym particles and suits to contribute to this ‘research’?”

“No, the agreement states that the researchers are bound to Non disclosure agreements outside of the company heads and scientific officers, and that they are only allowed to experiment with the machine itself, they can’t send anyone through time using it.”

“You mean through dimensions, or universes.” (Y/N) threw her hands in the air, “This is crazy. Who signed off on this?”

“Ms. Potts, and the construction of the device was supervised by Mr. Scott Lang.”

“Construction? Why didn’t they use the one that they used to return the stones?”

“Dr. Banner destroyed that one as soon as the returning of the stones was completed, with the understanding that it wasn’t needed because no was was going to use it again.”

“Well he thought wrong apparently.” She leaned back into the chair and twirled around a screw in the air. “FRIDAY pull up the documents you quoted earlier, the agreement between Stark industries and Fisk industries.” (Y/N) peared over the documents for what felt like forever before standing up and pacing around the table. “FRIDAY is the machine done?”

“Yes ma’am.” The AI replied. “Mr. Lang left the site three days ago, and confirmation was sent to Ms. Potts Yesterday. I believe it is fully operational.”

“Oh my god.” She sighed and sat back in the chair. “How did she not tell me about this? Why didn’t she say anything? Holy crap. FRIDAY where is the machine?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait what? Why would it be in Amsterdam? Fisk industries has its headquarters in New York.”

“I’ve found a document that says something about avoiding taxes and American regulators.”

“Well, that makes sense.” She sighed before her eyes lit up with an idea. “Wait for a second, I’m going to Europe in 48 hours. If I can make my model, then I’ll be able to get it to the one in Amsterdam-and this could work.” She stood up in surprise and put both hands on the table smiling over the model in front of her. “This could totally work. It could work. FRIDAY keep the time machine model up and pull up the Dimensional tracker next to it.”

“One minute.”

“This is so happening.”

“What’s happening?” Another voice asked. (Y/N) turned in surprise to find that the door to the garage was open and the outline of someone glistened in the moonlight. “What are you doing in here?” It was Peter. Crap.

“Nothing.” She paused, moving in front of the hologram so that he couldn’t see. “FRIDAY turn it off.”

“No, wait.” He walked into the garage and tried to look past her at the table. “FRIDAY pull it up again.”

“Yes, Mr. Parker.” The hologram pulled up again and glowed behind (Y/N).

“Nope!” She shouted, getting onto the table, and laying down across it in the most nonchalant way possible. “Peter! Whatcha doing here? What's up bro? How’s life been dude-bro?”

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. FRIDAY turn it off, and put it under passcode lock.” She turned back to Peter. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. What are you even doing here? I thought you left.”

“It was getting late and I didn’t want to drive back, so Pepper said I could just stay the night.”

“Oh lovely, nice, good for you. The guest room is super classy, very nice decor, very homey. What are you doing out here? In the garage? Looking for ghosts? Because I know that there’s one at the end of the dock but you have to like jump into the water to see it-”

“I know your hiding something.”

“What? Me? Hiding things? That’s crazy. When have you ever known me to hide things?”

“All the time. It’s what you do.” He replied, coldly, narrowing his eyes at her. “Look if you won’t tell me, then I’m just going to go tell Pepper that something is going on in here and I guess she’ll figure it out.” He turned and walked out of the garage and into the night.

“No!” (Y/N) shouted. And the door slammed in Peters face suddenly, the door knob locking itself due to her powers. “Don’t tell Pepper. Look it’s nothing Peter, I’m just looking at stuff my dad was working on, old projects. Okay?” He gave her a suspicious look. “I can’t sleep, Pete. I haven’t been able to in a while, and this helps.” She wasn’t exactly lying about that, she hadn’t been able to get a good night's sleep in the last six months. “So don’t tell her please? She’s gonna get all worried and then send me back to therapy, or get me meds or something.”

Peter thought it over, turned around to face the door so that she couldn't see him. As much as he was mad at her, and he really was, he still cared. He cared enough to be worried about her, and how she was coping with everything and what she was really doing. But he knew that getting Pepper involved would just make the whole thing so much worse, so he told himself that they were going on a trip with each other in two days and he would be to keep an eye on her for the whole time.

“Fine. I won’t say anything.”

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#peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark! reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x reader #stark! reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #gabby writes #easier the series

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booksandtea · 6 years ago

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Author Interview | Laure Eve Last month I teased on my Instagram that I got to interview the breath-taking Laure Eve and how I hoped to have it all transcribed soon.

Unfortunately for you, I lost the bloody audio.

Luckily Laure is such a Queen that she agreed to re answer the questions over email for us so I can still scream about her work.

I’m actually a little sad that I did loose the audio because we had such a great conversation, but once the others go live too I can also edit in links to there so you can experience some of the magic.

Keep reading to find out more about Laure Eve, The Graces, and her future work.

Laure Eve

A French-British hybrid who grew up in Cornwall, a place saturated with myth and fantasy. Being a child of two cultures taught her everything she needed to know about trying to fit in at the same time as trying to stand out.

She speaks English and French, and can hold a vague conversation, usually about food, in Greek.

A random selection of favourite things: Terry Pratchett quotes, characters with questionable morals, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Häagen-Dazs cookie dough ice cream, anything Trent Reznor is remotely involved in even if it only extends to ‘he once touched this artist’s arm’, bad 90s dance music and anything a bit weird (see: Davids Lynch and Cronenberg).

Find her on Instagram | Twitter | Goodreads | Website

Is The Graces a duology or will you be revisiting the world? It is a duology for the moment, though I’d definitely revisit the world if another story for it came to me. I think at the moment it’d be taken up from someone else’s point of view, like say Marcus. I think it would be interesting to do a series where each book was told from a different character’s POV.

Do you prefer reading standalones or series and do you think that influences your writing? On balance I probably read a lot more standalones than I do series, I think mostly because series are much more of an investment, and I tend to have to read so much varied stuff – new books that I get sent, research for my own writing – that it takes me a really long time to get to the next book in a series. I’d really love to write a series, but for some bizarre reason I keep unconsciously defaulting to duologies…

I spoke to a friend who loved The Graces and she thinks it would be interesting to know how you researched the magic, where you got the inspiration from, and whether you view yourself as Wiccan? The inspiration for the magic in the books definitely comes from modern Wicca and the resurgence of pagan/earth religions in the 20th century. For me where magic gets interesting is when it sits between the intersection of willpower, spirituality and belief, and is therefore more nebulous in nature. I grew up in an area that was very open to those kinds of alternative spiritualities, so I really drew from the experiences of my childhood. I wouldn’t necessarily say I am Wiccan, no – mostly because I am an atheist, and there are dimensions to Wicca that draws on the belief in some kind of higher power. But I am very interested in its philosophies, and its approach to reality.

Is your favourite genre to read different to what you write? Do you have any recommendations? I honestly don’t have a favourite genre. I read contemporary, fantasy, sci-fi, thriller and horror, they all offer different experiences for me. Recommendations – too many! The best thing to do for recs is follow me on instagram. I tend to post about the books I really love that I’ve read recently.

Are there any fantasy/paranormal elements you’d love to explore in the future? Actually I find myself being drawn back towards science fiction a little more. In the new thing I’m writing right now, I’ve been exploring the intersection of magic and technology, and how that would work, what that would look like. It is a very fun concept to play around with.

What is the best thing about being an author? You get a moment every so often where you realise that you’re being paid to make stuff up. It’s the strangest and most wonderful feeling.

If you can tell us anything, what are you working on next? It’s an alternative world fantasy inspired by the stories of King Arthur and Merlin, but set in a city with trains and motorbikes and electricity. It has a very modern gothic kind of vibe. I’ve no idea if it will ever get published, but I’m having immense fun creating it.

And lastly, if you could write a book with anyone dead or alive who would it be and why? Wishful answer: I’d have loved to have written a book with Terry Pratchett. As a writer he has had a huge influence on me. It would have been quite something to be able to draw on his amazingly creative and sharply perceptive mind.

I hope you enjoyed this post and you get the chance to see Laure speak at an event because she’s super awesome. After hearing her at NYALIT my pals all bought her books too so we’re now a Laure Eve Fan Club 💖

Have you read either of Laure Eve’s duologies?

If you enjoyed this post consider supporting Northern Plunder Ko-fi | Twitter | Book Club | RedBubble

On writing, duologies, and witchcraft | Q+A with @LaureEve Author Interview | Laure Eve Last month I teased on my Instagram that I got to interview the breath-taking Laure Eve and how I hoped to have it all transcribed soon.

#Author Interview #Author Q&A #Author: Laure Eve #Genre: Fantasy #Genre: Feminism #Genre: LGBT #Guest Post #Publisher: Faber and Faber #Publisher: Hot Key Books #Q&A #Series: Fearsome Dreamer #Series: The Graces #TEENSgate

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juniper-and-lamplight · 6 years ago

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Podfic Favorites

7/8/2018

I promised a rebloggable podfic rec list, and here it is! I've recced most of these before, so this is more of round-up than a brand-new rec list; it's multifandom, as usual; it's organized alphabetically by podficcer's name; and it's restricted to no more than 5 pods per podficcer. All of these and more can be found in the podfic tag of my bookmarks. Recs under the cut!

A Symphony of Chemical Reactions - what_alchemy, read by @cellardoortumbles | Cellar_Door - 2k, 22min, T, John/Sherlock "Cooking’s just chemistry and time management." Vivid, quirky Sherlock POV in the text + excellent use of music and sound in the pod = an extra-charming podfic. Use headphones to get the full audio experience!

More Things Than Are Dreamt Of series - 1electricpirate, read by @consultingsmartarse | consulting_smartass - 38k, 1hr, M to E, John/Sherlock (Harry Potter fusion AU) “In which John is (reluctantly) a wizard, Mycroft is (apparently) omniscient, and Sherlock is (surprisingly) oblivious.” Hands-down my favorite Potterlock fic, and consulting_smartass' podfics are nuanced and immersive -- I've listened to them countless times now.

Sussex - SilentAuror, read by consulting_smartass - 26k, 3hrs, E, John/Sherlock “John can’t seem to stop touching Sherlock. He can push the anger away, but sometimes he just needs to take Sherlock’s pulse again. Slight angst, case-fic, post-Reichenbach.” Ah, nothing like realistic emotional constipation on the parts of our heroes. This was one of the first podfics I loved enough to download so that I'd always have access to it.

The Stars Move Still - BeautifulFiction, read by consulting_smartass and aranel_parmadil - 96k, 9hrs 48min, E, John/Sherlock, AU "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?" I avoided this fic for YEARS because I hate Faust, so I was extremely pleased to discover that the inspiration is VERY loose and thus, the fic, and the pod version, is lovely and incredibly immersive.

Carry On - Mazarin221b, read by consulting_smartass - 4k, 35min, M, John/Sherlock "Five times John didn't want to be carried, and one time he did." One of my favorite 5+1 fics, and a perfectly paced short pod.

Left - lifeonmars, read by consulting_smartass - 45k, 5hrs, E, John/Sherlock, magical realism AU "John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible." Honestly, consulting_smartass' talent has broadened my fanfic horizons, because while I'm generally not keen on reading AUs (especially long ones), I'm amenable to listening to them -- and so I don't miss out on fantastic fics & performances like this one.

The Girlfriend Experience, rageprufrock, read by dodificus - 9k, 2hrs, E, Dean/Castiel “While it’s not like Dean hasn’t had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.” Sometimes, when a podficcer's accent is different than the accents in the source material, it just works in ways you wouldn't have expected-- this pod is one of those times.

The Company - Rulerofthefakeempire, read by @dr-fumbles-mcstupid | Dr_Fumbles_McStupid and RsCreighton - 2k, 11min, T, Dirk/Todd "He’s imagined this moment so often that it feels like he just doing it again, waking up with a hangover next to Dirk Gently. And Dirk’s naked." A quietly funny fic, and a quietly funny performance.

Interrogation - goingtoalaska, read by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid - 2k, 13 min, G, Dirk/Todd "Of course Dirk has some extremely important questions that can only be asked in the middle of the goddamn night, obviously." Almost entirely dialogue, and really captures the ridiculous-with-an-undercurrent-of-softness vibe of these two characters.

There's Only One Sure Thing That I Know - leah k (blinkiesays), read by exmanhater - 20k, 2hrs, E, Dean/Castiel "Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest." This podfic is a road-trip standby for me and my Destiel-shipping wife.

A Statue Strong Enough for Two - lady_ragnell, read by exmanhater - 39k, 3hrs 30min, E, Elena/Mithian, superhero AU "Elena is a street-level superhero. A visit from an old enemy forces her to step up and see what she might have to do with the Sidhe who invaded and were sent away twenty years ago. Luckily, she has fellow superheroes to back her up, and a new girlfriend in her regular life to make things feel more normal." In addition to encouraging me to try out AUs, podfic also encourages me to try out rarepairs--I wouldn't have thought to look for fic about these characters, but I'm so glad I stumbled across & listened to this one.

Lab Book - copperbadge, read by FayJay - 5k, 40min, E, John/Sherlock “'The likelihood of finding a cab on Christmas Eve is fast approaching nil.’ 'So was the likelihood of you kissing me in the middle of the pavement, and yet.’” An annual holiday read/listen!

Whatever Remains, However Improbable - ivyblossom and Loudest_Subtext_in_Television, read by @fffinnagain | finnagain - 13k, 90min, T, John/Sherlock “The evidence is all there: we know it’s bound to happen. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are going end up together, aren’t they? Obviously!” An experiment in fourth-person omnitemporal tense. Subtle sound effects add dimension to this podfic.

Diversionary Tactics - shinysherlock, read by finnagain - 2k, 16min, E, Molly/Irene, historical AU "Oh. This could be interesting. Irene’s fingers moved to the third button of the dress and paused. 'Shall I just . . . check the rest of you, then? Make sure you’re quite all right?'" A brief, hot, historical PWP, Mollrene style. UNF. Finnagain's performance is very...impassioned--maybe don't listen in public ;)

Seeing Draco Malfoy - khalulu, read by fire_juggler - 12k, 2hrs, E, Harry/Draco A beautifully done podfic, delivered with warmth and humor. Once I listened to it twice in one week and wound up with the phrase “Nubbumping Humdinger” stuck in my head, and it made me bust out smiling at random times :-)

Let Nothing You Dismay - montparnasse, read by Hananobira - 19k, 2hrs, M, Sirius/Remus "There are a few things Sirius really didn't count on for Christmas of 1979. The extreme sexual confusion is one of them; Remus Lupin is approximately seventy-eight of the rest." There’s a full-on, sensory vividness to the imagery and descriptions in montparnasse's writing, and LISTENING to those words makes the experience even more immersive.

Splendid Night - Katie Forsythe, read by heuristicdevice - 14k, 1hr 30min, M, Holmes/Watson "A Christmasy spin on MILV with a heart-warming dose of H/W." So much miscommunication! I love this fic so hard, and I ESPECIALLY love the podfic. Heuristic Device’s rendering of “now, please,” in a Certain Scene is both quiet and full of feeling, while other sections of the story are infused with audible humor, excitement, and heartbreak, each as they’re called for.

Stately Homes of Wiltshire - waspabi, read by @lazulus - 57k, 6hrs, E, Harry/Draco "Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case." Fair warning that listening to this podfic whilst walking my dog led to funny looks from strangers, because it caused me to laugh at loud for no apparent reason.

A Brand of Gold - aquabelacqua, read by @lockedinjohnlock-podfics | Lockedinjohnlock – 12k, 2hrs, M, John/Sherlock “What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting.” This fic is just plain beautiful, and the pod is one of my favorite performances by Lockedinjohnlock.

Points - lifeonmars, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 54k, 7 hrs, E, John/Sherlock "What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other." Picture it: yours truly, driving alone and terrified through darkness, rain, and heavy traffic…and yet unwilling to turn off this podfic. THAT’S how deep lifeonmars and Lockedinjohnlock took me into this story.

Midnight Plowboy - weeesi, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 5k, 44min, E, John/Sherlock “'Does it feel like I’m sure?' John whispers into Sherlock's ear. Sherlock swallows again." In which John discovers Sherlock's collection of vintage gay erotica. *imagine several fire emojis here*

Half a Dozen Dances - CeruleanDarkangelis, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 19k, 2.4 hrs, E, John/Sherlock "'Seriously? You? You're going to be a stripper?' John tried to keep the amused incredulity off his face. Judging by the disgruntled look Sherlock gave him, he was not entirely successful in this endeavor.'" Typically, stripper fics are just Not My Thing, but the use of music in this podfic sold me.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea - DiscordantWords, read by Lockedinjohnlock - 40k, 5hrs, M, John/Sherlock "Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown." The way the author & podficcer capture Sherlock's voice in this fic feels SO TRUE: his shattered hubris, his desperate resistance to vulnerability, and the believable way he and John finally get through it all.

Senza Catene - Mad_Lori, read by @oncomingtragedy - 6k, 1hr, T, John/Sherlock "Sherlock has a secret hobby. One night John follows him to find out what his flat mate is up to and gets the surprise of his life." The one where Sherlock sings opera--cracky but oh-so-enjoyable. The podfic performance includes several musical interludes.

All Life is Yours to Miss - Saras_Girl, read by originally reads - 114k, 11 hrs 20 min, M, Harry/Draco "Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go." Another one I might have missed (due to personal impatience) if not for the miracle of podfic! The pod is well-performed, and the slower listening process makes the resolution feel even more satisfying.

The Price We Pay for Wings - Frayach, read by @raitala - 13k, 80min, M, Harry/Draco "Scorpius Draconis Eltanin Malfoy read the first book in the Alford Ocamy series over Christmas hols when he was eleven. Well, he didn’t so much “read” it as he devoured it." I've recced this a million times before, and I'll keep reccing it because I CRIED ACTUAL LITERAL TEARS LISTENING TO THIS. 10/10 would be devastated by again.

i don't wanna give you up (i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me) - notcaycepollard, read by @revolutionaryjo - 3k, 20min, E, Erin/Jillian "Erin Gilbert is not the second or even the fifth straight girl Jillian’s ever fallen for, and it’s kind of getting to be a problem, except when she sees Dr Erin Gilbert, she thinks, maybe, this woman might be a statistical outlier." Closely observed, funny, hot, and the narrative voice is p e r f e c t (both in the text and in the podfic performance).

The Temporal Tornado - novembersmith, read by RevolutionaryJo and Lunate8 - 3k, 37min, G, Carlos/Cecil "A temporal tornado reduced our most beloved scientist, Carlos, into a darling little toddler version of his already darling self, didn’t it? Yes it did, oh yes it did! Plus, a jellyfish migration is underway, a mysterious series of unexplained crevasses are appearing in the streets of Night Vale, and valuable advice is provided on the care and feeding of children." Audio is the only logical format for a Night Vale fic like this one :)

Common Woodbrown - imochan, read by RevolutionaryJo - 36k, 3hrs 40 min, M, Remus/Sirius "'Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there.' In 1985, Remus Lupin realizes that Sirius Black is innocent. Now, he just has to prove it." Both author and podficcer create a sensitive rendering of the angst, fragility, and determination of Remus Lupin.

Sentiment to Paper - mistyzeo, read by RickyPulsifer - 7k, 57min, E, Holmes/Watson "No fewer than three times by the winter of 1883 had I heard Sherlock Holmes disparage the ways of lovers and their irrational tendencies toward writing letters. With this often and loudly-expressed opinion in mind, I was very surprised indeed to find a stack of unsent, unsealed letters in a drawer in his desk." RickyPulsifer’s podfic is a quiet wonder of smooth pacing, emotive delivery, and thoughtful production.

Splendid Creature - mistyzeo, read by RickyPulsifer and the_dragongirl - 2k, 20min, E, Holmes/Watson "Holmes has tired himself out on a case and wants to go straight to sleep. After an orgasm or two. Watson is more than happy to help." A sleepy, steamy PWP featuring a transmasculine Holmes, read by two podficcers whose voices work together beautifully.

Cold Snap - MirithGriffin, read by verityburns - 5k, 34min, E, John/Sherlock “The Mayo Clinic prescription for hypothermia is this: Tea. Blanket fort. Sex. All right, it doesn’t come right out and say that on the website. But Sherlock can read between the lines.” Verity Burns' delivery nails both the snark and the sweetness of this fic.

First Night Out - verityburns, read by the author - 3k, 22min, M, John/Sherlock “As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders’ Christmas Party. There are… developments on the dance floor…” I loved this fic for YEARS before I listened to the podfic and realized that the audio version–read by the author herself–makes it exponentially more charming and more intimate.

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

#fic recs #podfic #johnlock #brotzly #drarry #destiel #wolfstar #acd holmes fic #bbc sherlock fic #dghda fic #hp fic #ghostbusters fic #merlin fic #femslash #supernatural fic #night vale fic #my recs

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panic-arts · 7 years ago

Photo

Hey guys! I’m proud to announce the beginnings of a new reanimate project centered around the Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3 cartoon. We will be re-animating the episode “True Colors” and have tons(+100) of animator spots still available. This is a lot less formal than other reanimates out there so consider this a great chance for learning and experimenting with animation. That being said animators of any experience level are welcome. If your interested in joining please read the rest of the information below.

How it works:

Message me through tumblr here or email me at [email protected] with your contact info(email and name). and how many seconds of animation you would like to animate.

I will more-or-less randomly assign scenes based on what’s available and how much work you want to take on. Right now, I will only be assigning one scene per person, but if you finish your scene and others are still available I will let you take on another one.

After confirming the work load, I will email you the audio and/or video for your scene.

There is no deadline, but try to finish your scene in a timely manner, I will be doing “progress checks” every month or so.

Have fun, it this project is stressing you out feel free to reach out to me.

Once a scene is finished, send it to [email protected] as an .mp4 video file. Once everyone’s scene are put together the finished video will be posted to Youtube and other social media.

Who can join?:

As stated previously, animators of any experience level are welcome, including beginners/amateurs, but please inform me if you are a beginner/amateur.

You must actually be capable of “animating.” By this I mean you must be able to finish your section of animation. If you want/need to drop out let me know as soon as possible.

Requirements/Rules:

Animation canvas size should be 1280 X 720 pixels or larger with the same proportions. If your animation program does not allow this size (such as flipnote on dsi/3ds) let me know. Be aware if you do not use this dimension your animation may lose quality.

Animate at a speed of 24 fps if possible.

No offensive characteristics, symbols, etc. If I deem anything to be racist,sexist, homophobic, etc. I have the right to ask you to change you animation and/or kick you off the project. Keep in mind this will be posted on YouTube and probably watched by children.

Finished animation should be sent as a .mp4 video file to [email protected].

If you have any other questions please contact me. I will be using the tag #smb3reanimate to post updates on this project,

#smb3reanimate #Super Mario #reanimation #reanimate #reanimate project #super mario bros #mario #cartoon #animation #super mario bros 3 #the adventures of super mario brothers 3 #super mario bros super show #super show #not art

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kfdirector · 6 years ago

Text

Student Awareness of Nonstandard Danger Society

The afternoon finally came. Niewitzski watched as the students were clearly taking initiative; Craig and Tracey were setting up laptops with audio-visual equipment, Joe and Mario were sitting at the back of the classroom, smiling with satisfaction, and Stella was, of course, supervising. Niewitzski kept his directive simple: “I want to know what we know!”

Stella saluted. “Sir, at my direction Freshmen Reubens and Washington built a timeline of the data feeds from all sensors and collated all information! Freshmen Reubens and Washington have valuable results to report, sir!”

“Neat. Who found out...whatever it was?”

The two freshmen in glasses looked at each other and didn’t volunteer.

“Sir, science is a team effort! Now then, Freshmen Reubens and Washington will make the report, sir!”

Craig turned on a projector and pulled down the screen at the front of the room. Tracey stood by the screen, and gulped.

“Relax, Miss Washington. This isn’t for a grade.”

“Well, yes. Umm. This is the monster from the 27th.”

Niewitzski looked at the slide, and could not disagree: it was the monster from September 27th.

“I mean, uh, this is the monster when examined under wavelengths visible to the human eye. This is what you saw. Next slide, Craig.” A very similar monster appeared, only in shades of red. “This is the monster when examined under a segment of the infrared portion of the light spectrum.”

Niewitzski frowned. “O-okay....”

“Freshman Washington! The faculty advisor of SANDS is missing the significance of this data! Please elaborate!”

“Oh, right, okay. Um, overlay, Craig.”

The visible-spectrum slide was now overlaid on the infrared slide, showing two monsters, side by side. Niewitzski still didn’t - oh. Oh? The monsters were side by side, but the backgrounds were in sync!

“Um, as you can see, I hope, in infrared, the monster leaves a perfect after-image of its previous location. With this particular infrared filter, we can see where the monster was about twenty-two seconds in the past.”

“That is - that is not how infrared works. That’s insane.”

“Sir, it gets much more insane! Prepare to have your mind blown, sir!”

“Um, let’s just skip ahead and overlay the ultraviolet filter, Craig.” Several slides were bypassed with quick clicks. “This is the monster in a ultraviolet portion of the spectrum, at the same time stamp. As you can see, with this particular filter, the monster can be clearly seen at a different location. If you fast-forward ahead in the video - yes, like that, this is the location that the monster appears at in the visible spectrum about twenty-two seconds later.”

“We’re past insane and into impossible. Ultraviolet light does not see through time. That’s not how anything works, not even a little - ”

“Science has only begun to be slapped around for its lunch money, sir!”

Tracey gave a small cough. “Um, I need to point out, Mister Niewitzski, that under the infrared and ultraviolet filters, light was only emitted from the monster’s past and future locations, not from its present one, while every other object behaved normally. Also, the readings we got on Friday night were largely consistent, although the time separation was only nineteen seconds. Okay, Craig, next section, please.”

The screen changed from false-color images of monsters to something that looked like an oscilloscope or an EEG - that is, there were a lot of waves being charted on the screen, and Niewitzski had no idea what any of them meant.

“While the creatures were active, Mister Niewitzski, signals were being broadcast on several little-used radio bands that sort of resemble brain waves. When the creature from the 27th was shot by Officer Gale, and when the creature from Friday was struck by your car, the signals became erratic. At the moment they vanished, the signals went completely flat.”

Niewitzski stroked his beard. “That sounds really unlikely, although not seeing-through-time unlikely, but potentially very useful. About how far away could these waves be detected?”

“Um, there were really strong signals. Probably throughout the metro area. So, using a radio direction finder tuned to the frequencies I’ve noted on - next slide, Craig - we could track these monsters. Both monsters used the same frequencies. Also, these are almost completely unused by normal radio traffic. So, any signal on them at all above the standard atmospheric noise could function as a good early warning system.”

The teacher grinned. “That frees us from the police scanners. But...why and how are the monsters broadcasting their thoughts on the electromagnetic spectrum?”

“Sir! With Freshman Reubens’ input, I have arrived at a hypothesis, sir!”

“With Craig’s input? Uh oh.”

“Sir, these beings are clearly in flagrant violation of many laws of science as we know them in this universe!”

“Right.”

“Therefore, sir, I propose that they are not native to this universe! The monsters have found themselves here, and they possess a set of characteristics that are, in their native universe, perfectly reasonable and internally consistent characteristics for monsters to have! However, in this universe, some of these characteristics are perhaps measured in different ways, or along different axes, than they are in their home. Therefore, sir, while in this universe, they are walking incarnations of dividing by zero! I am aware that it is possible in higher math to approximate division by zero, but in normal math it results in two equalling one, so please bear with the metaphor, sir! With every step, they are throwing up read-errors in the very nature of reality, and those manifest as these violations of science!”

“...you came up with this theory on Craig’s help, yes?”

“Freshman Reubens’ input was invaluable in the formation of this hypothesis, sir!”

“I bet it was. I’m with you one hundred percent up through, maybe, the first sentence, that they’re not from around here. Everything after that is...it, ah, needs more data.”

Stella shrugged, as if she hadn’t just spent a minute vehemently shouting this theory and so wasn’t that invested in it.

“Question.”

Tracey called on Joe, at the back of room 203. “Yes?”

“So, if we wear glasses with ultraviolet filters or whatever, we can see where that thing’s going to be twenty-two seconds before it gets there? So Mario and I can see where it’s going to swing and we can then be, y’know, not there when it does swing?”

Mario muttered. “Twenty-two seconds is a longass time in a fight. Give me just two, please.”

Niewitzski slammed his fist on his desk for dramatic emphasis; Craig jumped. “Okay, yeah, that’s the problem with this part! This all violates causality in a big way, I mean, straight up time paradox here! How could we see where that thing’s going to attack next, when the very fact that we’d just make sure not to be there would cause it to not bother attacking there in the first place?”

Tracey sighed. “I don’t know, Mister Niewitzski. All we have our observations on the cameras with the filters. We should test this further in our next battle by equipping the four of you with headsets that apply the ultraviolet filter in real time, and see what happens.”

“Even if it causes a time paradox and breaks the universe? And what do you mean, four?”

“Sir, if you think I’m going to keep staying in the van, you’re some kind of shithead, sir!”

“Um, well, and we won’t know if a time paradox breaks the universe until we try, sir.”

According to legend, Niewitzski had heard, right before the atomic bomb test at Trinity the scientists had done calculations to determine whether the atmosphere itself might catch fire. It was the only comparable situation that came to mind, and yet it had both lower stakes and more qualified scientists working on it. “So, last question, then: why are they here?”

Craig spoke up. “They’re being summoned, Mister Niewitzski, that’s still my guess.”

Niewitzski waved that off. “These are apparently things from another dimension. Magic conjuring circles aren’t going to do the trick. Do you really think Tony Hayes - assuming he even was responsible - was really the first one to muck around with magic and see if it could work?”

“Maybe he was the first one to find something that worked! Magic is all about the experimentation, Mister Niewitzski, that’s why they even have Books of Shadows.”

He did not find that plausible. “Humans have been screwing around with magic for probably longer than we’ve been hitting rocks with other rocks, and Tony is the first guy who finds something that works? I’m doubting that.”

“Hey, Coach,” Mario cut in. “Summoned doesn’t just mean ‘by magic’, does it? Maybe there’s some government or university lab that’s playing with weird science.”

“That’s possible, I guess, but ‘Coach’ is really more Joe’s thing. Okay, that’s...well, I can’t think how they would stumble on this, but apparently the natural laws I’ve been leaning on all my life aren’t as ironclad as I’ve been hoping. Hmm.” He scratched his beard. “Can these things be summoned remotely, or are they being sent from a central point? All of the attacks that we know about are in this county, which is suggestive, but we’ve been relying on police reports until now.”

The students nodded. “So, we need to use the radio frequencies Miss Washington listed to prepare for the next attack. Even more important than destroying the monster will be tracking its initial appearance, and the time it is in existence before being spotted, as well as its location. With a few more data points, I think we can apply some principles of geographic profiling to narrow down the origin of these monsters, and thereby stem the problem at its source.”

And, hopefully, that source would not be, say, anyone he knew personally.

“SANDS, are you with me?”

Of course, they were. All the way.

Even to the point of Craig volunteering to shimmy up a radio tower and install an antenna to aid in their new monitoring plan; Tracey using her careful handwriting to forge backdated paperwork protecting the SANDS’ right to operate as a school club; Mario helping Niewitzski repair his car; and - well, the less he knew about what Joe and Stella might be doing to arm or finance their operation, the better he felt.

But yes, they were with him, all the way.

#student awareness of nonstandard danger society

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cripdeaf · 6 years ago

Note

you said in a post that you don't read anymore, because of your vision. Do you listen to audiobooks instead? :) My vision is getting worse by the week, and I fear I soon can't read anymore. If you listen to audiobooks, do you have any good recommendations?

Hey, Anon!Sorry it’s been a few days since you asked, I haven’t been able to use the computer again since; I don’t personally listen to audiobooks (podcasts are more my thing, though I really should get into audiobooks), so I asked a couple of my friends who I know do.I’m not sure if these are really going to be up your alley, so if they’re not, you’re more than welcome to come back and ask for more specific recommendations (like genre, themes, etc.) and I’ll see what I can do!

One of them listens to a lot of Cathy Glass, and her audiobooks are memoirs about when she’s fostered kids; he warns it won’t suit everyone, but he likes reading about how she’s helped the kids she’s fostered.Coming with a content warning for kidnapping and violence, he says that Richelle Mead’s Vampire Academy series is really good!And another non-fiction, and more geared toward those with knowledge of psych but is still good for those who don’t, is Human Magnet Syndrome: Why We Love People Who Hurt Us by Ross Rosenburg; it’s good for anyone wanting to understand more about the dynamics of abusers and why people stand by them, even to their own detriment. He also says it does a good job at not throwing people with NPD under the bus, which is definitely a good thing.

The other friend suggests the Martian by Andy Weir, the book having been written as a series of logs, and so it works incredibly well as an audiobook, as audio logs fit the theme and style of the written book.

Again, if these aren’t your thing, you’re welcome to come back, and I’ll ask around for you some more; I may get more into audiobooks since I get my hearing aids next week, which will make it much easier for me, so I may have more recommendations soon!

Edit:So @allycatposts-blog sent me a few suggestions as well; a general warning for violence for all of them; these are all fiction, bar the last.I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison is about the last five humans who are trapped in a super computer, and their struggles to find food.They also recommend Paingod (the short story) by Harlan EllisonWhilst I haven’t listened to the audiobooks, I do very much enjoy Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s series, and they recommend the audiobooks as narrated by Stephen Fry; the series is very well-known, though the other four books in the trillogy—yes, a five-book trillogy; the others being the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Life, the Universe, and Everything, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, and Mostly Harmless—are lesser known by many than the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, even though they know the plot of the whole series as it follows Arthur Dent’s life post-destruction of Earth.Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut is a book about a man trying to write about World War II, but ending up travelling through time and facing all manner of oddities in the process.Another recommendation from them is Mogworld by Yahtzee, where self-aware MMO characters have to deal with this fact.Laura Jane Grace’s autobigoraphy Tranny, which is centred around her transition and life touring, is also really good, from what they’ve told me, and again they recommend the audiobook, which she narrates herself, and this adds an extra dimension to the text.

#answered #anonymous #book recommendations #audiobooks #abuse cw #t slur cw

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llamaswrites · 8 years ago

Text

Light

Fandom: Pokemon

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Hau/Gladion (Haudion | Cutebonesshipping)

Summary: Gladion opened his mouth to object again, but Hau quickly kissed him. “Stop. Worrying. You can do this, mea aloha. You succeed in everything you do. This will be just another item on the list.”

Solutions are found, but they're not the ones that everyone wants.

(Part six in the Isolation series)

Read on AO3 here.

The best families were the ones made from love, not necessarily blood.

Maybe Hala had been the one to tell him that, maybe he’d learned it on his own, but in either case Hau took it to heart when his father took off for parts unknown. At the time, Hau wasn’t able to understand why anyone would want to leave their large and happy family. Why go anywhere else when love was so readily available?

He still didn’t entirely understand it years later, but he could to some extent. Life as a Kahuna was intense and the expectations were high, but Hau wouldn’t have traded it for any other lot. The friends (and family) he’d gained throughout the years far outweighed any downside to the job.

The past six or so months had been some of the happiest he’d ever had. Even now, he watched his new family relax in the living room in the dying light of the afternoon and felt sheer content spread warmly through his body. Gladion was sitting on the couch, wearing an old torn up shirt while he struggled to keep the newest addition to their family, a Type: Null, still in his lap. Silvally watched on from where it rested its head against the arm of the couch and Raichu snoozed in its bed in the corner, partially levitated off of it from whatever dream he was having.

“If you’re going to stand there and stare, you can come help me,” Gladion hissed as he caught a flailing leg. He was attempting to file down Null’s talons slightly so it would be able to freely wander the house without damaging most of the interior. Silvally was long used to living in doors and usually had little problem minding its sharp talons, but Null was still learning.

“I’ll make its struggling worse if I come over there.”

“Only because it knows you’re such a sap that it can get away with murder around you.”

The Pokemon whined softly as Gladion finally managed to pin it. Actually filing down the talons took much less than time than wrangling Null and it was soon released from his lap. It skittered across the floor, helmet crashing against the coffee table as it made its way outside. Silvally promptly chased after it and Hau shut the door behind them. Gladion let his head fall back against the couch and sighed.

“At least this one is much smaller than Silvally ever was. I wasn’t able to do this with it and you saw the result of that.”

Hau noticed blood starting to drip down Gladion’s arm from where an errant talon had swiped him and grabbed the first aid kit from where he’d the forethought to put it on the counter. It was a testament to how relaxed Gladion had grown to be around him that he didn’t flinch when Hau suddenly intruded into his space.

“Did it get you anywhere else?” Hau asked as he tied off the bandage on Gladion’s arm.

“No, thankfully.” Gladion let Hau pull him into his lap and buried his head into the crook of his neck. They hadn’t much of a chance to just be together since Gladion had started to analyze Mew’s sequence a few months before and Hau missed Gladion’s presence so much it started to ache in his chest. It seemed like when one was home, the other wasn’t. If Gladion wasn’t at the lab, then Hau was dealing with the increasingly frequent wormholes that opened up somewhere on the islands. The only time they really saw each other was when they crawled into bed together at night, but both were usually too exhausted to do much more than sleep.

Hau ran his hands down Gladion’s sides before digging his fingers into Gladion’s ever tense lower back. Gladion shivered slightly and let out a small, muffled sound that caused heat to start to gather in Hau’s stomach.

“It’s so nice just have a moment to relax with you,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of Gladion’s head. Gladion tilted his head up and caught Hau’s lips in a soft kiss that quickly turned into an exchange of licks and bites. Hau pushed him back against the couch gently and started to trail small nips down Gladion’s neck as his hands found their way under Gladion’s shirt. Gladion arched up into his touch and whined before his fingers tangled into Hau’s hair, pulling out the tie and the clips.

Had either of them been paying more attention, they would have noticed Hau’s Raichu suddenly perking up from its nap across the room in response to some yet unknown thing. Oblivious (or perhaps uncaring) as to what was happening on the couch, he picked up Hau’s Xtransceiver and levitated it so it floated right behind Hau’s head. Hau and Gladion finally noticed, though, when it exploded into sound. They both jumped and Hau reluctantly pulled away from where he was attempting to leave a mark right below Gladion’s collarbone. He reached behind him for the Xtransceiver and Raichu let it drop into his hand. He was careful to answer it with audio only.

“This is Hau,” he said as he carefully climbed off of Gladion. Gladion grumbled and reached over the edge of the couch to feel around for where his shirt had landed.

“Hey Hau! It’s Lillie. I was wondering if you and my brother would be able to swing by the Paradise today. I know it’s short notice, but it’s super important. Anabel from the International Police is here and hoping to talk with you guys.”

“I guess we could do that, yeah,” he replied as he trailed a hand teasingly up Gladion’s chest before he could put his shirt back on. Gladion snarled something at him as he yanked the shirt over his head. “Just give us a bit.”

“Oh, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Lillie asked with a giggle. Gladion snatched the Xtransceiver out of his hands.

“Yes, in fact, you did,” he growled and Hau could hear Lillie’s explosive laughter from where he stood. “Now let us get ready in peace!”

He swiped to end the call and shoved the Xtransceiver back at Hau, face burning. Hau only chuckled as he wrapped it around his wrist one more before kissing Gladion’s forehead.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.”

Thankfully, they were able to make it to the Paradise before the sun set below the waves on the back of a Charizard. Gladion had calmed down somewhat on the way there, but it might have been helped by the fact that he pressed against Hau’s chest the entire way.

Lillie was waiting for them when they landed and quickly lead them down to the main lab where Gladion usually worked. Red and Blue were waiting for them already, with Anabel sitting across the table from them with Moon at her side. A laptop between them showed that Dawn, who had returned to Sinnoh shortly before the Mew ordeal, was sitting in on this meeting as well.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Anabel said as she extended a hand towards Gladion, who reluctantly shook it before he plopped down in one of the empty chairs beside Hau. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Anabel, as you may already know. I was hoping to speak with all of you today regarding the influx of Ultra Beasts in the region as well as some ways that the Aether Foundation can hopefully help us in our efforts to get this situation stabilized.”

A claxon suddenly rang out, announcing the presence of yet another wormhole somewhere in the region. Gladion jumped to his feet, ready to take care of, but Anabel caught his shoulder.

“Leave it for now,” she told him. “The other Kahunas can handle it. We need to have this discussion.”

“This is getting out of control!” Gladion snarled as he ran a hand through his hair and sank into his chair. Hau resisted the urge to touch him, to try to calm him down because he knew it would only make Gladion’s aggravation worse. “We’re having at least three wormholes opening up every day now, and that number seems to be increasing.”

“Agreed,” Anabel said as she leaned back in her chair. “We’re not going to have the bodies required to handle this crisis soon. The frequency of the wormholes are increasing almost exponentially, as compared to almost twenty years ago when we started tracking them. I heard that you were looking into the Beast Killer project a little more deeply and wanted to stop by to propose something to you.”

“Which is?”

“To combat the increased presence of UBs in the region, I would ask that you restart the Beast Killer project. Silvally seems to be one of the only truly effective Pokemon against UBs and we could use more like it.”

“Absolutely not!” Gladion spat.

“Why? Is it an issue of compensation, or lack of manpower? I can assure that the International Police can provide you with both.”

“It’s an issue of ethics! Creating Pokemon in labs isn’t right!”

“So what does that say about the artificial breeding programs your sister is currently running? Aren’t those Pokemon created in labs as well?”

A snarl ripped from Gladion’s throat and this time, Hau did grab his arm to keep him seated. Lillie spoke up next from where she sat next to the champion.

“Gladion, think about it. Our guardians and Nebby can only do so much to combat them, even with Silvally and Type: Null’s help. Nebby especially can only really create portals to shove the UBs back through. It’s almost like space is destabilizing here and I’m not sure why. Even Dad doesn’t have a clue. I don’t think we have any other solution.”

“I might.” All the eyes in the room turned to the laptop that had been set up. Dawn continued, “I set up some of the equipment Mohn graciously sent with me at the Spear Pillar on a hunch. An old friend helped me analyze the results and I think I have a working hypothesis as to why this is happening. Gladion, the locations of the portals in Alola correspond to almost the same place in the UB dimension every time, correct?”

Gladion nodded.

“Technically, this should be happening everywhere if that’s the case, but it’s obviously not. The data I collected at the Spear Pillar suggested that the spatial anomalies that happen there from time to time lead to a similar, if not the same dimension. There’s something missing in the UB dimension where Alola is connected to that’s causing this spatial imbalance.”

“What do you think it is, exactly?” Gladion asked.

“A Pokemon. Or Ultra Beast. I’m not sure which it is, anymore. I think that something used to exist in the Alola UB dimension that kept the UBs themselves in check as well as maintaining the balance between the two dimensions. What’s happening now is almost like an ecosystem imbalance.”

“I have a temporary solution, at best,” she continued. “There’s a Pokemon that legends say exists in a place on the opposite side of our own, which sounds an awful lot like the UB dimension to me. It seems to maintain balance between our world and its own. I thought at first there might only be one, but some digging by Cynthia has revealed that there seems to be more than one.”

“Is this another one of those Pokemon that you’ve supposedly never met, yet know everything about?” Gladion asked grumpily. Dawn only smiled in response.

“I think something must have happened to the one that used to exist around Alola, which is why the region has been plagued by UBs for millennia. It’s only now coming to a head because the dimensions are trying to collapse into each other. As Anabel brought up earlier, this seems to be happening at an exponential rate, but it’s probably taken at least several millennia to get this bad. I propose that we temporarily relocate the Pokemon from where it resides opposite of the Spear Pillar in Sinnoh until we can find a more permanent solution.”

“Won’t that leave Sinnoh vulnerable to the same phenomenon?” Blue pointed out.

“I don’t believe so,” Dawn replied. “At least, not right away. Cynthia thinks she may have found something that can provide a more permanent solution, but it will take time to explore that option fully.”

“So what? Someone has to go through a portal and catch the damn thing?” Gladion asked.

“Yes.”

A heavy, contemplative silence fell on the lab.

“I’ll do it,” Red and Moon offered at the same time. Dawn shook her head.

“No,” she said. “There’s really only one person who can do this. This Pokemon might technically be an Ultra Beast itself and we need to be prepared for that possibility. Red, your team is not exactly prepared to deal with UBs. Moon, you have Nebby but you’re both needed here to keep this situation from deteriorating anymore than it is.” A stern look from Dawn silenced any objections they might have.

“Gladion, you’re the best choice to do this. You have both Silvally and Null at your disposal in case the Pokemon is, in fact, an Ultra Beast and you’re perhaps the most knowledgeable person here about the UB dimension. Will you do it?”

“I don’t think I really have a choice here,” Gladion said quietly.

“It’s settled then. I’ll start making arrangements for your stay here in Sinnoh. You’ll get the details in your email later. If it’s possible, I’d like to have a one-on-one call with you later to discuss some of the finer points of this.”

After saying her goodbyes and hanging up, their small group dispersed fairly quickly, leaving Hau and Gladion alone in the lab. Gladion cradled his face in his hands and sighed. Hau pulled up a chair beside him and looped an arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Hau,” he admitted quietly. “I mean, so much can go wrong in this situation. What if this doesn’t work? What if the Pokemon isn’t even there? What if I don’t come back--”

“Gladion, Dawn picked you for a reason,” Hau interrupted as he tugged Gladion to his side and pressed a kiss to his head. “Everything will work out like it’s supposed to, alright? You just need to trust her and trust Silvally and Null.” Gladion opened his mouth to object again, but Hau quickly kissed him. “Stop. Worrying. You can do this, mea aloha. You succeed in everything you do. This will be just another item on the list.”

Gladion’s face flushed slightly as he gently pushed away from Hau’s embrace.

“I should probably get everything ready for my absence,” he mumbled. “I’m not sure when I’ll be leaving but this will take a while either way.”

“Do you want me to stick around?” Hau asked. Gladion shook his head.

“No, I’ll work better alone. Why don’t you have Lillie show you the nursery? I heard that the professor from Johto sent over a Pichu egg the other day.”

“If you’re sure…” Hau pushed himself to his feet and planted a kiss on Gladion’s head. Gladion lightly swiped at him and mumbled something that sounded like, “I’ll be fine, you idiot.”

“I’ll be back down later to make sure you actually come home tonight! Love you!” Hau called over his shoulder as he exited the lab.

“Love you too, idiot,” Gladion grumbled in response as he shut the door in Hau’s face.

To his surprise, Lillie was waiting for him by the lift.

“Is he going to be alright?” she asked as they stepped on together.

“I think so,” Hau said. “He’s just got a lot to think through right now. It’s best to leave him be for the moment.”

Lillie sighed.

“His biggest problem is that he always thinks too much,” she admitted. “Sometimes I think he’d be a lot better off if he just let himself feel instead of overanalyzing everything that came his way.”

“He’s learning,” Hau defended as the lift arrived on the main floor. “It’s just taking him a while. Now, I believe Gladion mentioned a Pichu egg?”

Lillie sighed again, this time more in exasperation at her friend’s Pokemon fixation, as she punched in the door code for the nursery. Much like the conservatory above it, the nursery had mostly natural light from the wall of windows. It was late enough in the day, though, that some of the soft overhead lights had flicked on. The entire room was almost uncomfortably warm, but Hau supposed the baby Pokemon needed it to be that temperature. While some were, as Anabel suggested, bred in a laboratory setting, most were orphans that the Foundation had taken in.

It was far quieter than it’d been on previous visits but it seemed as though nearly all the Pokemon were asleep, either in blanket covered piles in the corners or in the small wading pools provided for them. Only a few Wynaut and Cleffa peered around their hiding places to study them.

“It’s over here,” Lillie said as she lead Hau to the corner of the room where the incubators where. For the most part, the Foundation preferred to use actual Pokemon to incubate eggs, but sometimes artificial incubators were used if the egg warranted study. This seemed to be the case for this particular egg. Hau recognized it right off the bat from its pattern. He could definitely see the cause for concern, though. What he first believed to be shadowing from the dim lighting was actually an off coloration of an otherwise normal Pichu egg.

“Can I hold it?” he asked, and Lillie nodded. She carefully removed the egg from the warmth of the incubator and handed it to him.

“It doesn’t seem to want to hatch at all,” she told him. “It arrived here a few weeks ago and Elm had it for several before that. I’m starting to get concerned. It hasn’t rocked or moved at all.”

“Are you sure it’s a viable egg?” he inquired as he shifted it around in his hands. It felt warm, but it could have just been residual heat from the incubator.

“I’m certain,” she answered. “Every test we’ve run on it shows signs of it being a normal Pichu egg. It just doesn’t want to come out.”

Hau started as the egg rocked slightly and grinned as he smoothed a hand over the shell.

“Well, maybe she just needs some encouragement.”

“She? Oh goodness, Hau, really?”

“Really. I can feel it. She’s formed enough to have some thoughts, but it’s like she’s sleeping.”

Lillie sighed and shook her head.

“That’s the most reaction we’ve gotten in weeks. I’m almost afraid to ask for your help after last time…”

“It’s not my fault they’re all so cute! I would give them all a home if I could!”

“Hau, you did try to give them all a home. Gladion and I had to pry all the Pokemon in the nursery off you while you cried and you still tried to sneak a Pichu out!”

Hau hung his head in mock defeat.

“Fine, fine. At least let me take a walk with this one, at least. You should join me. Maybe we can convince this little one it’s time to come out.”

Lillie acquiesced, and they found themselves wandering around outside the main Paradise building. Hau wrapped the egg in his Kahuna mantle to help keep it warm from the cold ocean breezes. It was getting to be near monsoon season again.

He almost dropped the egg when Lillie suddenly asked, “So, when are you going to ask my brother to marry you?”

“Lillie, don’t just spring stuff on me like that!” She huffed out her cheeks in irritation.

“You’re avoiding my question. Anyone with eyes can see how into each other you two are. It’s been almost eight months and you’re both the happiest I’ve ever seen. Everyone is expecting you to pop the question any day now.”

“Why me?”

“I shouldn’t have to answer that, Hau.”

“Okay, fine, that’s fair. I just…” He sighed and cradled the egg closer to his chest. “I’m not sure he’s even really considered that, to be honest.”

“I think you’re giving him far less credit than he deserves,” she pointed out. “He might not have considered it in those terms, yes, but I’m pretty sure he wants to stay by your side as long as you’ll have him, Hau.”

The egg shook slightly in his arms, perhaps sensing his distress. Hau sent a wave of assurances towards it and it quieted once more.

“Go for it, Hau,” Lillie urged. “I don’t think he’ll say no. You certainly have my blessing to do so and Dad’s asked about it as well so I think he’s okay with it.”

“Maybe,” Hau said. “Let me think about it. We should probably start to head back. I don’t want this little one getting colder than she needs to.”

He held out the wrapped up egg towards Lillie, who took it carefully in her arms.

“I’ll get something prepared so you can take it home,” she told him. “You have to come back with it the moment it hatches, though!”

“I’ll try my best,” Hau said with a laugh as she turned on her heel to head back towards the main Paradise building.

“Hau.”

He froze. It’d been years since he’s actually heard Lusamine speak, much less towards him, but he would recognize her voice any day. Lillie turned around, a question obviously in her eyes, but Hau shooed her on. Whatever Lusamine had to say, it was for his ears only.

He faced her, chiding himself for his fight-or-flight response. Regardless of what happened a decade ago, he should at least hear her out.

Lusamine looked so small and worn, hardly the pristine and sharp force she had been years prior. Her Clefable was at her side, one of its small hands gently helping to steady her. In its other hand was a Heal ball, perhaps its own.

“I have a favor to ask of you, if you would let me speak. I know we’ve never been on the best terms but I feel you are the only one who could do this for me.”

Hau said nothing, but also did not walk away. Lusamine seemed to gather herself for a moment before she continued.

“Though Lillie has little interest in being a trainer now, she did have a Pokemon when she was small. Gladion did as well. Their father and I decided that it would be best for them to grow up with Pokemon by their side, especially as we weren’t always around due to researching the Ultra Wormholes that seemed to be popping up more frequently. We let them pick out their own companions and helped them capture them since they were so young. Lillie caught a Lillipup, and we had a a bit of hard time for a while after she named it Lillie as well.”

Lusamine paused, a bit of a wistful smile ghosting across her face. A bit of prodding from the Clefable encouraged her to continue.

“Gladion had a harder time deciding on his companion,” she explained. “Mohn took him along on a trip to the observatory on Mount Hokulani one night to collect some data readings. An Ultra Wormhole opened up nearby when they were there and in the chaos and confusion, Gladion disappeared. They finally found him behind the observatory and in his arms was a Cleffa.

“From then on, he and that Cleffa were inseparable. It eventually evolved into a Clefairy because their bond was strong. They would have never separated willingly, but between my own insecurities and Nihilego’s influence, I tore them from each other, along with Lillie’s Lillipup. It wasn’t long after that Gladion fled from the Foundation with Type: Null. Perhaps he thought that he would be able to one day save his and his sister’s Pokemon if he became strong enough. I’m not sure if he even remembers her, to be honest, but I would like to right a wrong in the only way I can.”

The Clefable approached Hau and held out the ball with both hands. He crouched down to accept it.

“I’ve tried to get her to leave me over and over, but she refuses,” she told him. Her voice was starting to tremble. “I don’t know why. Even when I left her for years, even when she saw him again, she refused to leave. Maybe she thinks this is what he would have wanted, for her to take care of me and put our family back together.

“The only thing I can do now is to maybe give him back a piece of what I took from him years ago. A while ago, Clefable approached me with an egg. I can only assume that it was hers, as it hatched into a very small Cleffa. I would like him to have it, but he would never accept it from me. Please, pass this along to him.”

A tear escaped down her face and she furiously rubbed it away. The Clefable tottered back to Lusamine and took her hand to lead her away.

“Lusamine,” he called after her, and the pair stopped. “What happened to Lillie’s Pokemon?”

“I believe Mohn has it,” she said. “He managed to take it with him when he disappeared years ago. It’s a Herdier now. He’s tried to convince it to return to Lillie as well, but it seems content to help him out on the Pelago.” She turned to leave again, but paused. “Thank you, Hau. For making him so happy.”

He watched Lusamine and the Clefable leave hand in hand back towards the Aether mansion, and the ball softly rocked in his hand.

He found Gladion down in the labs, hunched over a touch screen with his hair in a bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He swept images to the side as he jotted down notes in a notebook. Silvally seemed to be napping peacefully behind him, but was more likely than not on guard against any of Faba’s machinations. He was most likely trying to wrap up the Mew sequence research to a point that someone would be able to take his place for however long he was going to be in Sinnoh.

It was only Hau’s hand on his shoulder that snapped him out of his reverie. Gladion flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself.

“Sorry,” Hau apologized. “I didn’t realize that you were that into it.”

“It’s fine,” Gladion told him and pushed himself away from the screen. He pulled off the glasses and let them hang from a lanyard around his neck. “I don’t usually see you down here. Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Hau said and after making sure they were alone, shut the door to the lab. Without the bright lights of the hallway, the room was only illuminated by the blue glow of the screens. “I was given something today that was for you.”

He held out the Heal ball.

Gladion gave him a curious look and took it from his hands. Immediately, the ball sprang open in a burst of light and a small Cleffa now sat at Gladion’s feet. It reached out for his leg and rubbed its face against his pants while humming softly. Gladion stared at it in shock before finally looking back up at Hau.

“Did she put you up to this?” he finally snapped. Sensing the change in mood in the room, the Cleffa whined as its eyes began to water. Despite his anger, Gladion reached down to scoop it up.

“Would you be willing to listen to me before you blow a gasket?” Hau asked him tersely.

“She can’t just buy her way back into my life, Hau,” he snarled, “and I’m not going to let her use innocent Pokemon as bargaining chips!”

The Cleffa began to wail.

“I don’t think it was her idea, Gladion!” Hau exclaimed and irritably tugged at his pony tail. “I mean, yes, she did approach me but this wasn’t entirely her idea.”

“Then whose was it? Mohn’s?”

“Try that mother of that Cleffa.”

Gladion froze, eyes wide. Sufficiently taken down a peg, he rocked the upset Pokemon back and forth in his arms until its crying dissolved into quiet hiccups and whimpers.

“She told you about my first Pokemon, then.”

“She did. Clefable was the one who gave me the ball, though.”

“She never came back to me. Even after Lusamine left, after there was no one else for her to belong to, she still didn’t want to come back to me. She just waited until Lillie finally took her with to Kanto.”

“Maybe she knew someone else needed her more. You had Silvally at that point. Your mother didn’t really have anyone.”

The Cleffa startled in Gladion’s arms as tears fell on its sensitive ears. Distracted from its own misery, it started to sing softly and tried to reach up to touch his face.

“I don’t know why she would want me to forgive Lusamine, out of everyone. She had a front row seat to everything that happened.”

Hau knelt by Gladion’s chair and reached up to help the Cleffa wipe away his tears.

“Maybe it’s not necessarily about forgiving her, Gladion, but starting to heal yourself from everything that happened,” Hau told him softly as he softly kissed his forehead. Delighted at the show of affection, the Cleffa started to sing a bit louder.

“Maybe. I don’t think I can do it alone, though.”

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”

Gladion smiled, the biggest smile Hau had ever seen on him, as he buried his face into the Cleffa’s fur.

#haudion #cutebonesshipping #sunandcloudshipping #hau #gladion #pokemon #fic

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buttonholedlife · 5 years ago

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Top 10: Plastician’s Essential Dubstep & Dark Garage Classics

3 weeks to go until our experts host our last UKF10 go crazy, noting a total year of 10 year anniversary celebrations.UKF10 takes place December 14 at Studio 338, among Greater london's best-suited raving dens for the full-spectrum bass selection our team've enlisted. Plastician is just one of numerous DJs helping our company celebrate our biggest year to time, he's heading up Area 2 with Emalkay, Joker, The Others B2B Subscape as well as Enada. It's our best dubstep selection in Greater london in years.To celebrate,

our company have actually asked him to decide on 10 essential dubstep standards. He carried out certainly not let our company down. He's connected with beyond than the famous classics and universal anthems and pulled for one thing deeper. Right coming from 2001 dark garage to 2010 halftime blends, he is actually selected 10 great instances of master plans, standards and also boundary-breakers in the course of dubstep's 1st 10 years.While each of

these created shakes on the underground, and also a lot of were regularly hammered at dubstep's prehistoric melting pot FWD, not every one of all of them changeover to the broader dance and also have not been actually therefore intensely played because. Even to enthusiasts that existed during the time, a number of these keep tracks of are going to be actually a new expertise. Move to Center 338 on December 14 to experience a similarly-executed choice.

"There'll be a mix of everything," mentions the Terrorhythm bossman who just recently released the mystical Tracksuit Goth's launching, his tag's initial dubstep file in years. "A couple of grime and also dubstep classics. Bunches of brand-new things. I'm truly taking pleasure in exactly how dubstep has gotten back to its origins a bit, it's additional regarding the feel as well as the tip as well as it is actually obtained its own swing back once again. It needs to be a great one. It'll be terrific to see all these process in the exact same room. Our experts observe each various other at festivals however it is actually unusual to observe it take place in a club, especially in Greater london."

See you on December 14. In the meanwhile, understand these 10 cult foundation-setting dubstep tracks as picked through the man himself ...

Skream-- Shake-It (Tempa, 2008)

This one's coming from Skreamizm Vol 4. The very most widely known monitor on that particular EP was Oskillatah yet this was my favourite. It only had that swing to it that a great deal of monitors were actually losing at that time. I'm in fact playing this a lot once more today, the collision provides it that vibe which failed to follow the even more automated canal that was actually prevailing when this came out. Skream was actually thus prolific in the course of this period, it is actually incredible remembering just the amount of he made.Roxy & El-B

-- Cuba & (Bison Recordings, 2001)

This is an outright FWD anthem long before the night even grabbed Plastic Individuals! Going straight back to the style's garage bases. El-B was one of the black garage trailblazers that played such a solid job in the audio. Roxy worked together along with him a couple of times as well as they were actually both aspect of El-B's Ghost Records workers. Unfortunately he is actually no more along with us.Mark One

-- Plodder (Communicable, 2005)

Score typically obtains overlooked, due to the fact that he was actually stemming from Manchester but he carried out some amazing monitors. We each arrived through around the exact same opportunity and participated in one another's paths and this was actually a continuous track in my set for a long times. It is actually an effective unearthed gem. Our experts both toured United States all together around this time around. It was our 1st US excursion and our company were actually along with Bogdan Raczynski as well as Todd Osborn Soundmurderer as well as Grant Wilson-Claridge that manages Rephlex. I 'd never listened to everything like the songs the fellas were actually playing, it was a genuine ear and eye opener. We were actually untamed youngsters at that time, that was a psychological scenic tour. And obviously right now Score's flipped the game and also is eliminating it as Solardo. Fair game to him, he is actually the man of the instant, yet he's still the same old Score whenever I view him. Respect.Menta-- The Spirit(

Self-released, 2002 )This was a traditional in

the very early days, Croydon, just before a great deal of us obtained to play FWD. Hatcha would certainly play this on buccaneer continuously. Menta is really Art pieces and also Danny Harrison as well as they were actually all component of a collective who were part of D' n 'D Productions and also 187 Lockdown as well as that entire rate garage motion. This was their darker task for the noise that will ultimately come to be dubstep. It had not been called that at that time. We all knew it as the FWD audio. These men, Horse power Productions, El-B, Oris Jay. They were the ones putting in the foundations long just before dubstep became a thing.Coki-- Reddish Eye (Big Apple, 2007) My favorite Coki song. Everyone knows Tortured,Pulverized, Burning and also clearly Evening

, but this one definitely reminds me of playing shows along with Skepta, he enjoyed this song too as well as I have actually acquired a bunch of minds of playing it with him. Coki had his own sound, however the wonderful thing back then was actually that every person had their very own noise. There weren't that a lot of developers as well as the ones at the cutting edge went to the cutting edge of their own. There weren't that numerous copycats. All people that actually pushed the audio as well as brought in a mark on it had their personal noise; Joker, Silkie, Art Pieces, Benga, Skream. Every person sounded therefore different to every other as well as Coki was actually a little a creature back then.Joker-- Digidiesign(Om Device Pop Hair Remix )(Self-release, 2010 )

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grassroutes · 5 years ago

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Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback?

Our verdict of the Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Chuwi MiniBook 8" does more than revive the netbook: it takes that form factor and packs a much more useful computer inside.810

Netbooks didn’t last all that long the first time around. These cheap, portable devices weren’t supposed to be powerful, but they were incredibly affordable. Their deficiencies when it came to specs also meant they weren’t well suited to many computing use cases.

The rapid growth of popularity and power in phones and tablets sent netbooks to an early grave. Now we’re seeing a resurgence in the form factor, but there’s a difference. Models like the Chuwi MiniBook 8″ are far from underpowered, and this means they aren’t all that cheap either.

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Chuwi MiniBook 8″ Hardware Specifications

Based on the form factor, you may not expect much in terms of specifications. That’s partially true. This is no monster desktop replacement. That said, it’s in line with what you’d expect from larger laptops in the same price range.

CPU: Intel Gemini Lake N4100

GPU: Intel UHD Graphics 600

RAM: 8GB

Storage: 128GB eMMC

Battery: 26.6Whr

Screen: 8″, 1920 x 1200 multi-touch IPS display @ 283dpi

Dimensions: 201x128x19mm or 7.91×5.03×0.74 inches

Wireless: Dual-band 802.11ac / Bluetooth 4.0

Ports: USB-C, USB 3.0, USB, mini-HDMI, 3.5mm audio

Expandable Storage: M.2 SSD Slot

The expandable storage is a nice touch, especially given the limited internal storage. If you’ve got a spare M.2 MSATA SSD lying around, you can easily double the available storage space.

Body and Design

The Chuwi MiniBook 8″ is small, and we’re talking seriously small. Before the review unit arrived, I knew I would be looking at a very small computer. I was still surprised by just how small it was when I took it out of the box. You can see the dimensions listed above, but the MiniBook may still surprise you when you see it in person.

Chuwi had to make some sacrifices to get the MiniBook as small as it is. Fortunately, not many of them seemed to affect performance. Instead, the MiniBook isn’t as sleek looking as some of Chuwi’s other models. After looking at the Chuwi SurBook Mini, this looks somewhat brutalist by comparison.

There’s a certain novelty to using the Chuwi MiniBook 8″ due to its small size. At times, the tiny computer just doesn’t seem like it should be able to manage the feats of computing it is achieving. This isn’t a toy, but sometimes you have to remind yourself of that fact.

That isn’t to say that the MiniBook is flimsy. The body is made of aluminum alloy which makes it both strong and lightweight. It’s also capable of pulling off some feats of gymnastics.

The MiniBook uses what Chuwi refers to as a 360-degree “Yoga” design. This means it can work as a standard laptop, in tent mode, or in presentation mode, just like larger 2-in-1 designs.

Display and Brightness

Given the 8-inch screen size, you might expect less than HD resolution. That isn’t the case. The Chuwi MiniBook 8″ has a resolution of 1920 x 1200, meaning that the display looks quite sharp, no matter how close you look.

The combination of screen size and resolution give the MiniBook a pixel density of 283dpi, well within what Apple would deem “Retina” if this was one of its computers. Of course, UI scaling in Windows means that everything can feel a little cramped, but it’s easy enough to get used to.

The colors are rich and well-represented on the display as well. The display is fairly bright, though you may have some difficulty using the MiniBook in direct sunlight. This has more to do with the glossy finish on the screen than brightness.

The touch screen supports 10-point multi-touch. Chuwi also sells a stylus to use with the display, though we didn’t have one handy so we weren’t able to test this.

How is the Keyboard?

I have a feeling the keyboard is going to be the make or break point for most people with the MiniBook 8″. It’s small, and there’s really no getting around that point. Some keys, like the Delete key, are almost absurdly small. On the other hand, it is backlit, which is nice.

I did start to get used to the keyboard after testing the MiniBook for a few days. The only problem is that once I felt comfortable typing on the MiniBook’s keyboard, there was a period of adjustment in going back to standard-size keyboards. I’m a touch typist, but if you aren’t you’ll likely have an easier time.

Fortunately, the keys you’ll use for the majority of your typing aren’t all that small. The Delete key, the split space bar, and the strange location of the Tab key are likely where you’ll run into the most trouble, assuming you do run into trouble.

What About the Pointer?

The small size of the Chuwi MiniBook 8″ makes equipping it with a standard touchpad impossible. Instead, Chuwi decided to outfit the MiniBook with what it calls a Super Optical Finger Navigation Module.

In practice, this works like a combination of a tiny trackpad with the TrackPoint made famous by IBM ThinkPads. Like the keyboard, using this effectively requires some patience. Once you’ve gotten used to the concept, basic navigation is easy enough.

Even once you’re used to the navigation module though, it takes a while to feel natural. During my time testing the MiniBook, I never quite felt at home using this. I would have felt more at home using a standard TrackPoint, but that could just be me.

This would be much more of an issue if the MiniBook wasn’t equipped with a touch screen. This makes working with the system much easier and could be partially to blame for why I never got along with the navigation module.

Performance

Chuwi’s marketing around the MiniBook 8″ makes it clear that this computer should be able to serve as your only PC, should you wish it to. This is a clear difference from the netbooks of old. Those were best used for browsing the web, as the name implied. The MiniBook can do much more.

Our review unit uses the Intel Celeron N4100 processor, while the MiniBook is also available with a Core m3-8100Y. Even though we’re looking at the less powerful model, the computer rarely if ever felt sluggish during standard use.

One worry with smaller computers or even larger laptops is thermal throttling. Fortunately, the MiniBook is equipped with fans to help keep this issue at bay. These fans rarely spun up during normal use, and even with more hardware-intensive tasks, they were never intrusively loud.

Running GeekBench 4.4.1, the Chuwi MiniBook 8″ got a CPU score of 1812 for single-core performance and 5510 for multi-core. The GPU received a score of 9050. That’s higher than both the Chuwi Hi13 tablet and the 14.1-inch Lapbook.

Operating System Options

The Chuwi MiniBook 8″ sent to me for testing arrived running Windows 10. Right now, that appears to be the only way you can order it. That said, an option on the box seems to indicate that Chuwi may one day sell the MiniBook preloaded with Linux.

If you’re inpatient or looking to dual-boot, you can always install Linux yourself. Early reports on the web look like you’ll encounter trouble with some distributions. The good news is that Chuwi has made a version of Ubuntu 18.04 available that works with the MiniBook 8″.

Battery Life

Chuwi equipped the MiniBook with a 26.6Whr battery. I routinely got around eight hours of use off of a charge, though this lowered somewhat when running benchmarks and other hardware-intensive apps. You may get more or less depending on your usage.

This 2-in-1 doesn’t seem to sip much power when the lid is closed. Given the mobile focus of the MiniBook, that’s handy. You shouldn’t need to worry about fully shutting the computer down to save power.

Another handy thing when it comes to mobility is how the MiniBook charges. It uses a standard USB-C plug for charging, with a 7.6V input for fast charging using the PD standard. This means you can easily top up the battery with a battery pack. Chuwi says the MiniBook supports anything above 12V.

When it comes to recharging the battery, the fast charging helps. From a completely drained battery, you can expect a recharge to take a little over three hours.

Should You Buy the Chuwi MiniBook 8″?

For most people, a single question can help you determine whether you should buy the Chuwi MiniBook 8″: How important is a small size for you? If mobility is your number one concern, getting used to the cramped keyboard and less-than-perfect mouse replacement won’t be a waste of your time.

That said, it may be tough to come to terms with the price. Considering the power that’s packed into its tiny frame, this computer isn’t overpriced. It just feels like it should cost less than it does, given the small size. Given the lower price of other Chuwi computers like the excellent 14.1-inch Lapbook, the price feels even more like an anomaly.

Don’t forget that this is a very capable computer, surprisingly so given the form factor. We’re talking about a computer the size of a large paperback novel that can easily run your day to day productivity applications. If you’ve been pining for the glory days of the netbook, this isn’t just the next best thing, it’s even better.

The Chuwi MiniBook 8″ is currently available as part of an Indiegogo campaign. The price is currently $434 for the N4100 model and $534 for the m3-8100Y model. Chuwi plans to begin shipping in September. Prices are set to rise in the future, so if you’re looking to get one of these, you may want to do so sooner rather than later.

Enter the Competition!

Chuwi MiniBook 8 Giveaway

Read the full article: Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback?

Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback? posted first on grassroutespage.blogspot.com

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droneseco · 5 years ago

Text

Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback?

Our verdict of the Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Chuwi MiniBook 8" does more than revive the netbook: it takes that form factor and packs a much more useful computer inside.810

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Chuwi MiniBook 8″ Hardware Specifications

CPU: Intel Gemini Lake N4100

GPU: Intel UHD Graphics 600

RAM: 8GB

Storage: 128GB eMMC

Battery: 26.6Whr

Screen: 8″, 1920 x 1200 multi-touch IPS display @ 283dpi

Dimensions: 201x128x19mm or 7.91×5.03×0.74 inches

Wireless: Dual-band 802.11ac / Bluetooth 4.0

Ports: USB-C, USB 3.0, USB, mini-HDMI, 3.5mm audio

Expandable Storage: M.2 SSD Slot

The expandable storage is a nice touch, especially given the limited internal storage. If you’ve got a spare M.2 MSATA SSD lying around, you can easily double the available storage space.

Body and Design

That isn’t to say that the MiniBook is flimsy. The body is made of aluminum alloy which makes it both strong and lightweight. It’s also capable of pulling off some feats of gymnastics.

The MiniBook uses what Chuwi refers to as a 360-degree “Yoga” design. This means it can work as a standard laptop, in tent mode, or in presentation mode, just like larger 2-in-1 designs.

Display and Brightness

The touch screen supports 10-point multi-touch. Chuwi also sells a stylus to use with the display, though we didn’t have one handy so we weren’t able to test this.

How is the Keyboard?

What About the Pointer?

Performance

Operating System Options

Battery Life

When it comes to recharging the battery, the fast charging helps. From a completely drained battery, you can expect a recharge to take a little over three hours.

Should You Buy the Chuwi MiniBook 8″?

Enter the Competition!

Chuwi MiniBook 8 Giveaway

Read the full article: Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback?

Chuwi MiniBook 8: The Netbook Makes a Comeback? published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

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