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leam1983 · 1 year ago

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I used to think that being poly meant an end to most fantasies. I thought it would mean those three or four OCs I spent using strictly as a medium to yank on my crank would be pushed in some musty corner of my subconscious, but a check-in with Walter was all I'd need to realize that fantasies are like cockroaches. You can't kill them, but they also have a role to play in your relationship's ecosystem.

We just settled into bed and I mention this to Walt, who seems nonplussed. "George Grimm isn't real and he couldn't be real, hon. Am I supposed to be jealous of a made-up guy you've pulled up AI art renders of? He's never actually touched you, never actually kissed you - and you know what I noticed?"

Walt smirks. "You're feeling guilty about it. That means you probably went at it last week, during one of the two evenings I spent at the office, and now you've got irrational guilt pangs about having cheated on me with a JPEG of a guy that could be me if I got everything tailored on Saville Row and had absolutely zero backdoor shyness in regards to your kinks."

His smirk turns into a chiding gesture. "You're being silly, you silly goose. We've sploshed - you know we're open concerning our kinks. Come on, tell me about him. Tell me about George Graham Grimm the Food Vampire."

I figure I'll do it like this, instead.

George was a solid coping mechanism in my late teens, someone who's cropped up in my dreams during a phase of my life that saw me define myself as unloveable by default. I don't remember the specifics of that particular dream, but I do remember the broad strokes.

I dreamt I was dragged to some sort of symposium by my Ph. D. of an aunt and was forced to spend four hours dipping my lips in cheap champagne while pretending like I didn't have a piteous inferiority complex. Dreams go as they're wont to do, elastic and fluid in their arrangement of Time, and I find a secluded dining room on the floor being used by the reception. Its décor is ornate, and its four massive tables are arranged in a square. In the middle of one of the sides is seated a mountain of a man, about four hundred pounds and change, and he's dressed in custom-tailored clothing that's probably cost a fortune. As obese as he is, he's the most smartly-dressed of the assembly, with a bowtie and vest combo that's so perfect you'd swear he was born with them. His thick fingers are impossibly agile, swiping things from the piles and piles of food waiting on the table and wolfing them down with a mixture of sheer abandon and meticulous precision - extended pinky finger included. He somehow never stains himself and his thick and flowing beard remains immaculate no matter how fast he goes. His utensils are barely touched, and he instead keeps going back to sucking on his fingers. He's a very vocal eater, groaning in appreciation or drowning a satisfied chuckle in an umpteenth bite. He does it all with his eyes closed and a light frown, almost as though he's got a mental map of the table's furnishings he keeps perfectly up-to-date.

Considering the amount of food that's involved, my first thought is that this is actually a buffet and this dude here's just decided he'd click on that I Will Attend link for the RSVP for the exact purpose of stuffing his face with free food. I don't remember the exact dialog in the dream, so I'll sub what was probably said with what actually makes sense in-context. Guy sounds like Tony Jay and Sydney Greenstreet made love and had a posh, congested and vaguely eerie descendant - and he stops between two bites, eyes opening to reveal two gray slivers behind his bifocals and his thick and well-groomed snowy-white eyebrows.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I don't recall the help replacing the buffet sign on this table..."

Just that is enough to prime my hind brain. This man's voice is the stuff my insecure adolescent self's dreams are made of. The snootiest Received English Pronounciation imaginable, rendered in a low and rough timbre by a guy who looks more fit to mumble than ti articulate - except everything is crisp. My flustered teenage brain thinks he's being contemptuous so I nervously blurt out a response - and he laughs.

I woke up, the first time my subconscious made George Grimm laugh. Again, it's Tony Jay and Greenstreet melded together, as if normal people had Plosive Laughing Prefixes without veering into outright guffaws, or as if your classic swell of Evil Laughter could've actually sounded congenial.

"Never you mind, dear boy - I was merely... indulging."

Over time, I'd realize George refuses to call eating what it is. He seeks repaste or regales his tastebuds, or maybe he prays to the God of Luxury, which I've always taken as being my subconscious regurgitating my brief obsession with Roman mythology. Grimm does fit the bill for some sort of modernized and expanded take on Dionysius and he did first come into being during my High School History classes on the Roman civilization.

"Go on, fix yourself a plate," he then says. "I'll hardly miss these bites you'll take."

I realize that he's serious, at that moment. He was rearing to polish off all four of these tables on his own. Something makes me want to keep my distance and to settle with clearing off a bit of table surface for my plate - and what I put in it never quite gels into something. It's like AI Art's idea of a plate of food, with chunks of unidentified meat, mounds of recursive and self-cannibalizing stringy pasta, black masses that might be meatballs or olives, it's hard to tell - and Dream Logic being what it is, I'm not fazed by this at all. My plate seems endless, but I work through it at a pace that I assume matches with my usual pace for a normal-sized meal. In the meantime, the big man's gaining speed at an impossible rate. He's slurping, gnashing, worrying, moaning and grunting his way towards my location, and I get the sense that he'll just keep getting faster if I try and slip away. So, half-convinced this just flipped into Nightmare Country, I feel the dream turn lucid as the overly-dressed organic Shop-Vac I'm seated with works his way through enough food for twelve people in a few seconds. He stops right next to me, daintily raised a tiny piece of cheese to his mouth and politely covers his mouth. If he's burped, no sound's been made.

He turns to face me and outstretches a hand that certainly has the mitt-like qualities of the appendages of particularly fatter people, but with an almost feline level of grace.

"George Graham Grimm - monster, scholar, gentleman, professor amongst others - at your service."

I take his hand. There's an instant of tension, the sense that Grimm's hunger's just shifted - and he's warm, warm like I've never felt anyone's hands being, before.

What I remember is that this was enough for my dream self to practically climb over his immense paunch and perch myself on it. His amusement and surprise immediately turns to relish, and George's kisses would be my measurement for Decent Snoggings for years, up until I met Prof - and eventually Walt. The specifics leave me, but I do know I dump everything on this posh quasi-ogre. Time dilation being what it is, George ends up being the perfect listener, as you'd assume, and he knows his voice is basically single-malt whiskey down my ears - again with weird plosive inclusions that make it so he hungrily moans or grunts at the beginning of every other sentence.

Obviously, my subconscious and my loins don't care about logical progression - we're Together, and that's it. George would crop up every now and again, typically when arousal was mixed with loneliness, and he'd call me his "dear boy" by repeating the word dear a good ten times or so.

Unsurprisingly, Younger Grem had Sugar Daddy fantasies and dreamed of a man large enough to be heavier than a loaded semi who'd take him out to walks and daintily request stops for "snacks" that would involve lifting hot dog carts à la Obelix the Gaul and tipping them into his open gullet. I understand that I spoke, in those dreams, but I don't remember anything I ever said. Even George's actual words faded, but I was left with a sense of either glowing praise or the sort of public expression of physical attraction that would normally make people ill-at-ease. Dude was horny on main the same way I was, adolescence oblige, and bowties-plus-silk-scarves affairs turned into spy thrillers as we both tried to find a sufficiently quiet and secluded space that would let us screw each other wild instead of catering to a gaggle of strangers in galas and receptions neither of us knew what to do with.

Then came Prof, and now Walt and Sarah. I started to feel guilty about an overdressed fatty that would've never left the confines of my mind - especially in regards to Walt.

The coincidence didn't escaspe me, back then. George Graham Grimm. Walter C. George. Walter's actually Grimm with the brakes on, the much more realistic idea of what it means to have a plus-sized boyfriend. The closeness isn't always welcomed on my end of things, seeing as I want to enjoy the Actual Man's emotional and intellectual availability, but my hind brain wants the Fake Man's relentless libido or his appetite. It's not that much of a problem, but it makes those occasional times that see me superimpose red paisley-patterned silk over Walter's gray gabardine feel like a dereliction I'm the only one to perceive.

I guess I needed George Grimm, back in the day. I needed a belly platform so big I could sleep over his chest without my feet touching the mattress, or the eventual internal running commentary on the various happenings in my life. I needed a guy with so much self-confidence and zest for life that he could turn morbid obesity around on a dime and make it look sexy. I do channel him on occasion, when I have to be snippier or more authoritative than I usually am. I probably needed the embryonic forms of the Loudest Fake Lover in Existence to make some inroads about my sexuality. I probably needed the imagined bedroom theatrics, Grimm gnashing his perfect teeth at me over climax, heatedly declaring that "our exquisite flesh" would "endure for aeons".

I think everyone needs or wants a concept of a certain "Forever Love", past a certain age, and it's probably natural to start out with an idea, a dream, a fantasy that's gone a little haywire in my case, that still sometimes looms over me while I'm working on our server stack, smelling of expensive cologne and of the cooked juices of something that's been expensively prepared. I don't need running commentary from Walt; he's always right around the corner!

George Graham Grimm, however - monster, scholar, gentleman, professor amongst others - hasn't really left my side for a good twenty-three years.

#life post #OC discourse #old faithfuls that never existed #on being nostalgic for something that's never left; never died #vague pangs of guilt #AI Art #Midjourney renders

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angelicyoongie · 4 years ago

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desolate (11)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, smut

— word count: 4.3k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @btstxtgenre @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @miss–insanity @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @originalpersonawobblerduck @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @nanananisstuff @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @crazyxforxmyself @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @brittaney341 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @adoorinyourheart @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @mihto @jisoosbitch @lyrxbz @forever-once-gone @sugalarity @out-of-jams @ithinkileftmycoatoutside @witchxlove @chocoflagcutii @alyboo-jpeg @ladyartemesia @tatiiz24 @boinko-boye @kaceyxmarie74 @fuckthatfeeling @makepastanotwar13 @airiguk @justliketheoceann @strawbewymiwk @skswriting @kofikats @rainbow-zebra-unicorns @mhmbrigitta @forever-yoongis @prybts @phatbussyincorporated @itsmethepancake @alterlovess @boredoomfm @furblrwurblr

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

(A/N: I realized I had accidentally named both the older co-worker and Yoongi’s first owner as “Mr. Park”, so I have gone back to change Y/n’s co-worker’s name to Mr. Yang lol) “Yoongi?” You call out, your voice barely audible above the heavy showers thundering down against the asphalt. You skid to a stop as you see a dark figure round a corner, the silhouette barely visible against the imposing darkness of the alleyways. There’s no way of knowing if it’s even Yoongi, but you’re grasping at straws at this point.

You’ve lost track of where you are, the brick walls and cement structures all blending together into a concrete jungle you’re not sure you’ll ever make it out of. You’ve never strayed so far from your own neighbourhood before, and the tightness in the back of your neck reminds you that maybe it’s better to keep moving. You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, every fleeting shadow making your skin crawl.

Your soaked shoes hit the pavement loudly as you turn to run after the figure, the sound echoing between the high walls. You managed to slip on a pair of shoes and a jacket before you braved the horrible autumn weather, but Yoongi didn’t, and you don’t even want to imagine how drenched he must be by now.

You’re panting by the time you make it to the end of the alleyway, the closed space suddenly opening up into a small park. It’s raining so heavy you can hardly see anything that’s further away than your hand, and a loud crack of thunder sends you scurrying across the open patch of grass until you’re huddled underneath a big tree. The red leaves that are still clinging on provides a little bit of shelter against the harsh weather, and you lean heavily against the trunk, exhausted after running up and down the streets for hours.

You just need to take a little breather before you start searching for him again, you’re not going home until you find him. You wince as raindrops start trickling down your neck, obviously your coat won’t provide you with much protection anymore. You let your eyes glide across the small park, surprised that it seems to be pretty well maintained despite the rough area you’re in. Even the little kids area seems to have been left alone, you can’t even spot a trace of graffiti on the playground equipment.

All of you attention is on the bright red tubes, and you swear you catch something move inside one of them as you squint to get a better look. You hesitate – unsure if checking it out is a good idea or not considering you’re all alone in an area you’re not familiar with. But the sense of what if wins over your anxiety of what might be lurking inside. You’ve already come this far; you might as well just sneak a peak to calm your mind.

Despite the rain, you take your time moving across the grounds. The wet gravel crunches obnoxiously loud underneath your shoes as you get closer to the tubes, and it must be alerting whatever is inside of them of your presence.

“Hello?” You carefully call out, but nothing greets you back aside from the insistent thrumming of rain against plastic. The tubes are a little higher up than you expected, and your hands are shaking with nerves by the time you use them to lift yourself up to get a peek inside. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust; the tubes pitch black from the lack of light outside. Nothing.

You feel your stomach tighten with disappointment at the empty space. You’re ready to let go and leave when a flash of lightening sends you rushing inside, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest in fright as the sky lets out another loud crack of thunder directly over you head.

You bring your knees to your chest, your shaky breaths echoing down the tube as you try to get your pulse under control. You think you’ve just about managed to get it back to normal when you hear a sound further down the tunnel, just around the sharp turn you can’t see anything past.

Your mind is screaming at you to leave– to brave the rain and thunder instead of staying cooped up in here with god knows what. But you can’t help but feel that there’s a pull, something that’s urging your body to move deeper into the tubes. Your muscles are locked up and stiff with fear as you begin to crawl further into it, but it’s still not enough to stop you. Your fingers scrape against the plastic as you move closer to the sharp turn, your body already aching from the cramped space. You’re too scared to breathe; it feels like the pitch darkness is going to swallow you up the moment you make a sound.

As you reach the turn, an unknown whimper makes you freeze in your tracks. It’s hard to make out over the loud raindrops pelting against the plastic above your head, but if you strain your ears enough, you can just about make out the low noise.

You learn two things at once.

One, you’re definitely not alone in here, and two, the other person in here with you is crying. It’s obvious they want to be left alone if they’ve hid themselves away so well, but what if they’re hurt? Or what if ..

You peek around the corner, the darkness making it hard to make out the shape of the person further down the tunnel. They’re curled into on themselves, hands covering their face as their low sobs ring through the enclosed space. The sobs are just so desperately sad that it makes your own eyes sting, and you’re trying to blink away the tears when another boom of thunder sounds just over your heads, the sky flashing white as lightening strikes. The light is enough to illuminate the tube from the other side, and it doesn’t last longer than a second, but it’s enough.

You scramble forward, the metal bolts on the floor digging into your palms as you hurry over to the huddled form.

“Yoongi,” You choke, your voice alerting the cat hybrid of your presence.

He jerks, head bumping against the top of the tube as he lets out a garbled hiss. You can see the outline of his puffed out tail as it trashes back and forth, his narrowed eyes looking almost golden in the poor light.

“It’s me, Y/n,” You breathe as you crawl closer, the tight space making it hard to move as fast as you want to. The wild look in Yoongi’s eyes passes as he recognizes your voice, and another garbled noise escapes his lips. The cat hybrid’s posture still screams hostility, but you don’t even pause before throwing your shaking arms around his shoulders, bringing him flush against your body.

Yoongi stiffens at the contact, his tail nearly whacking you in the face as it continues to whip wildly behind his back. The space you’re in is awkward and cramped, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind it as he melts against your warmth, his face tucked into your neck as he lets out a harsh breath.

You hug him closer, wrapping your body around his as much as possible. Yoongi is more drenched than you, his shirt clinging to his body like a second skin. Your fingers skim across his neck as you bring them up to his hair, and he’s absolutely freezing to the touch.

“Yoongi, we need to get you warmed up,” You murmur, wincing at the scratchiness in your throat from all the yelling. Yoongi doesn’t answer; only buries his face deeper into your neck as you gently run your fingers through his hair. And then something wet hits your collarbone. It takes you a second to figure out how you even noticed it considering you’re already soaking wet, but the realization hits you as it happens again. It’s not icy raindrops falling against your skin, no– it’s tears.

It dawns on you just as Yoongi lets out a heart wrenching sob, his whole body shaking in your hold. You tug him closer, biting back a startled gasp as he presses his ice-cold nose into your neck. Your heart absolutely shatters from the choked sobs that leave Yoongi’s lips. You’re desperate to make him feel better, but how is that even possible given what he just learned? His mother had been murdered. You feel bile rise in your throat as you’re reminded of the mug shot of your old neighbour. You never suspected a thing.

You’ve had nothing but time to think in the last hours searching for him, your mind whirring through all the information you’ve ever stored about Park Geunho. It was almost too easy to connect the dots – Yoongi’s story matching up with your memories perfectly.

Mr. Park hardly ever left his house, but he always had new people coming to visit him. At the time you thought it was weird, but for all you knew, maybe he just had a lot of friends and didn’t like to socialize outside of his own home. Fluffball’s weight seemed to always dramatically change too, you swear he seemed to suddenly gain a lot of weight and then go back to normal way too quickly. The times you didn’t see him for weeks you would ask Mr. Park where he was, and the man would usually answer that Fluffball was just too lazy to go outside. It didn’t make sense back then, but it does now.

It’s not like you checked if Fluffball was ever a boy or a girl, your young mind just assumed the black cat was a boy and left it at that. Mr. Park just called Fluffball “cat”, so it wasn’t like he ever gave you any pointers to what the gender might have been. The sudden weight gain and loss doesn’t add up if Fluffball was a boy, but if it was a girl, it could’ve been pregnancy. If Mr. Park was illegally breeding hybrids and selling them off like the reporter said, then .. it matches up.

It would make sense if Fluffball gained weight because she was pregnant, and then lost the weight once her children were born. The random people visiting him must have been buyers, and you suppose he hardly ever left home in fear that the hybrids would either escape, or someone would figure it out. You’re honestly surprised Fluffball was even allowed to go outside, but come to think of it, you probably weren’t much of a threat, as young as you were. You had always thought of Mr. Park as too stern and a little scary, but looking back at it now, it wasn’t just sternness in his voice whenever he called for Fluffball, it was animosity.

But, what makes you the most sick to your stomach, is that you now know why Fluffball passed away so suddenly. Mr. Park had killed her. And you had helped him bury her in his garden. He hadn’t even looked remotely sad, his face a blank canvas while you cried your eyes out for the sweet cuddly cat you’d grown so fond of. There’s no wonder you thought you saw a ghost when you visited the shelter and found Yoongi. He’s a splitting image of Fluffball – his mom.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you rest your head on top of Yoongi’s, your own tears silently sliding down your cheeks as you press your lips to his hair. All of this had been going on next door and you didn’t even know. You had been standing next to murderer and you didn’t ever realize that something was even remotely off. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself. It makes you feel guilty.

Do you even have the right to comfort Yoongi? Should you even be allowed to touch him?

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper. You’re sorry Yoongi ever had to experience something like this in the first place, that his life has been nothing but pain and uncertainty. You’re sorry you couldn’t stop it. And you’re sorry that even now, you let yourself feel relived that you found him, that you even dare to feel happy to have him in your arms.

You’re not sure how long it takes before Yoongi’s sobs turn softer, the steady stream of tears running down your neck calming down to a few stray droplets as he takes deep, shaky breaths. You loosen your grip around his back once he starts pulling away, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks instead. His pale skin is blotchy, the white in his eyes rimmed red from all the crying. You press soft pecks to the apple of his cheeks, your thumbs running slowly back and forth over his cold skin.

“Do you want to go home?” You ask. Your soaking wet clothes have dried up a little, but it’s not enough to warn off the bone chilling cold that has settled into your body. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you first set out to follow him, but it’s enough for the temperature to have dropped drastically. You can stay out in the frigid weather all night if Yoongi needs you to, but you’re honestly more worried about him than yourself. He’s way too cold.

“Yeah, lets go home,” The hollow tone in his voice breaks you all over again, so you just settle for a nod, and a soft smile to mask the guilt forcing itself up your throat.

You slip your coat around Yoongi’s shoulders once you both crawl outside of the tubes, the cat hybrid not making a sound as you gently grasp his hand to lead him back home. The rain has let up from a heavy downpour to a light drizzle, and it makes it a little easier for you to spot certain buildings you think might lead you in the right direction. Your phone is dead, so there’s no use trying to look up anything there. You wince for every step Yoongi takes on the cold ground, his bare feet red and bruised from all the walking.

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally see your building, the tall structure looking like beacon of light in the darkness. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as you tug him back upstairs, nor does he protest when you help him peel the freezing clothes of his ice-cold body. You leave him to take a shower as you hurry into the kitchen, heating up some canned soup you find stuffed into the back of your pantry. It might not be the best, but it just needs to serve its purpose, and that is to heat Yoongi back up.

Your hands hurt as you carefully ladle the soup into a deep bowl, the warm air in your apartment making your fingers burn as they start to thaw from the cold. You make it into the living room with the food just as Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, and you quickly usher him over to the couch to eat.

“I’ll just go get changed real quick, okay?” You say, not really moving from Yoongi’s side until the cat hybrid gives you a stiff nod in response. You make fast work of snatching up warm clothes from your room, wasting no time as you hurry over to the bathroom.

You swear you could almost cry out of relief as you freezing body steps in under the warm cascading water, your numb limbs finally regaining feeling. But you don’t stay there for very long. The moment you’re sure you can move all your body parts normally; you’re out of there – hastily drying yourself off before tugging on the dry clothes.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch since you left him, the spoon you laid out for him still perched next to the bowl on the table. His hands are clasped together tightly between his knees, eyes staring mindlessly at a spot on your wall. You slowly slide down next to him on the couch, his ears not even twitching in your direction. You’ve noticed his cat ears seem work on pure instinct, immediately moving to follow whatever sound they pick up on. So the fact that they don’t even stir when you’re so close is worrying – because that means Yoongi is too deep into his own thoughts to hear you, and that’s probably not the best place for him to get lost in right now.

“Yoongi,” You softly call his name as you reach out for his intertwined fingers. You carefully pry his hands apart to place the spoon in his palm, nudging the bowl closer to the edge of the table. Yoongi blinks, his gaze moving from the wall to his hand, his fingers slowly closing around the utensil. His eyes trail over to you; the confused and empty look on his face making your stomach lurch.

“You need to eat,” You remind him. Yoongi watches you for another moment before he nods, his gaze moving back to the steaming soup in front of him. If the situation were different you would’ve felt like a creep just sitting there and watching Yoongi eat, but truthfully, you are pretty sure he never would have taken a bite unless he knew you were.

You wait until the bowl is half empty before you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue all night.

“Why did you leave?”

Yoongi places the spoon back into the soup with a small shrug, his ears falling back into his hair as he stares down at the steaming food.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse and raw. “The only thing I could think of was just that I needed to find that fucker and hurt him in the same way he hurt my mom,” The last few words slips out as a hiss, Yoongi’s lips twisting into a snarl as he remembers the report.

“I still do,” He adds, “I can’t let him get away with this.”

“I’ll help you,” Yoongi is shocked at the conviction in your voice, his eyes flying up to meet yours in surprise. You didn’t only have time to think about Mr. Park and Yoongi’s mom, but also why the other cases in the news report had felt so familiar. They were all from your company.

There’s no cases you have worked on yourself, but you know that one of them was Jihyo’s, and you’ve heard bits and pieces about the others from your co-workers. You had no idea about Mr. Park, his case must’ve been dealt with before you started working there, but you’re certain that the conveniently timed breaches the office has been having these last weeks has to be tied to this.

Jihyo’s case still leaves a sour taste in your mouth, and you can remember how distraught she was when her client’s claim got overruled. That’s probably the hardest aspect of your job, the fact that you can’t do anything else after you hand over all the information and evidence you’ve collected to the lawyer in charge. Jihyo was convinced something was off about it, but neither of you are in a position where your opinion matters, and so it wouldn’t have made a difference. If only, it probably would’ve made the cases of Jihyo’s future clients even more difficult to win, if members of the court already disliked her because she had voiced her concerns.

You’re certain your company is connected to all of this, and your suspect hasn’t exactly been subtle with how he’s been sneaking around on your floor lately. But there’s only one way to find out for sure, and you’re more than ready to get to the bottom of this. You already made a promise to yourself that you would make the ones who had hurt Yoongi pay – and you sure as hell intend to keep it.

You’re not surprised at how quiet the office is the following day, it seems like a good chunk of your co-workers must have seen the news and arrived at the same conclusion. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but at least that your company was targeted for a reason. You had texted Jihyo about her case yesterday as well, and your friend looks like she hasn’t slept a wink. She has deep circles underneath her eyes, her usually bright and glowy skin looking dull and tired. Frowning, you take your seat, making a mental note to pick something up for her on your break.

You’re honestly not doing much better yourself. You kept waking up all night to make sure Yoongi was still curled up at the bottom of your bed, the black lump of fur soothing your anxiety just enough to fall back asleep, but not enough that it lasted for more than an hour. You were apprehensive about leaving him at home all by himself, but you quickly shut down that train of thought. Yoongi is an adult. He can leave your apartment whenever he wants to, and he’s more than capable to take care of himself.

You sigh, trying your best to ignore the gnawing worry in your stomach. After all, you have an important mission you need to do today. The day trickles by slowly, your anxiety only growing for each passing hour you’re left alone with your thoughts. You have no guarantee that your hunch is right, but you’re honestly not sure what terrifies you more – cornering the lanky guy from the IT department only to find out he has nothing to do with it, or finding out that he does. You don’t know what lengths this hacker group is willing to go to, or what this guy might be capable of doing. It would be easy to pretend you never noticed anything, but you can’t. This isn’t about you, this is about Yoongi.

You wave Jihyo off when she offers to stay back and wait for you at the end of the day, your nerves at an all time high as your co-workers start leaving one by one. You’re basically bouncing in your seat as you bid the last one goodbye; the floor suddenly plunged into silence. You swallow hard, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you rise to your feet. You still haven’t figured out the best way to approach him, but you figure you can always use your computer as an excuse.

The stairwell is silent as you make your way down, and it’s only the sound of your footsteps bouncing of the walls that is keeping you company. You pause to take a deep breath once you reach the door to the IT department, trying your best to convince your fried nerves that he might not even be in today.

But of course, that gets thrown out the window as soon as you step inside. There’s only one desk that’s still on, and it’s his. The man startles as the door slams shut behind you, and he jumps out of his seat as you get closer. He hovers awkwardly behind his chair, tongue wetting his lips nervously as he sees your gaze flicker over to the cat-formed sticky notes pad he still has on his desk.

”Did you do it?” The words tumble out of your lips before you can zip them shut, and you groan inwardly at your lack of tact. Well, that’s one way to do it.

“I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” The man stutters, his eyes flickering to the door behind you.

“The breach. I’ve seen you sneaking around our floor upstairs, and it just doesn’t feel like a coincidence that so many of our files suddenly ended up on the news yesterday,” You try to keep your voice level, desperately hoping that he can’t hear the slight tremor in it as you speak.

The man’s face grows white as you take a step closer, his throat bobbling as he grips the back of his chair tighter.

“N-no, I d-don’t have anything to d-do with it,” He vigorously shakes his head, his long hair flying side to side from the movement. Your eyes zero in on the weird pattern you noticed last time, and you feel like everything finally clicks into place as you realize what it is.

Scales.

This man must be a hybrid too. And he’s probably terrified of being found out. It’s pretty much unheard of that hybrids work along side humans without their owners, and he must’ve been putting himself into grave danger by showing up here every day for work.

“Oh okay, my mistake then,” You take a hesitant step back, the extra space seemingly calming the hybrid down.

You don’t believe him. If anything, you’re now more sure than ever that he has to have something to do with this, but the added uncertainty of not knowing what kind of hybrid he is, and what he’ll do if you corner him further isn’t worth it. You’ll have to come up with a better plan.

“I have some information on one of the files, but I see I was mistaken. My apologies,” You smile gently, hoping he’ll take the bait. That seems to make him pause, his eyes once again flickering over to something behind you before his tense posture suddenly relaxes.

“And what kind of information might that be, Y/n?” The deep voice behind your back nearly gives you a heart attack. You whip around to find Mr. Yang standing there with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his lips as he takes in your shocked expression.

“What?” You gape, dumbfounded at his sudden appearance.

“I don’t think Ki-won is the person you’re looking for,” Mr. Yang gestures to the hybrid.

“If you have anything you want to share, then you should do so with me. I’m the one who orchestrated the breach.”

You open and close your mouth, no words leaving your lips as you stare back at the older man. Even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never expected Mr. Yang to be behind it, not when he’s one of the few workers who’s been with the company for the longest time. Maybe you’re a little out of your depth.

“And I suppose you’re here because of your cat hybrid?” Scratch that. You’re definitely way out of your depth.

- - - - the next chapter will finally explain everything, and y/n might have to share a secret she doesn’t want yoongi to find out about .. as always, i hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! see you all soon! in case you maybe enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 AND please check out the posting schedule for july if you haven’t already!

#hybrid!bts #hybrid bts #yoongi x reader #cat hybrid yoongi #hybrid au #bts au #yoongi #bts #suga #bts fluff

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hyperfocusthusly · 3 years ago

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Written for @stonathan-jpeg

“forgive me for another prompt but ... steve taking billy to starcourt mall after it got rebuilt and billy seeing the spot he almost died on and silently trying to not freak out, gripping steve's hand in an iron vice as memories come back to him in waves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew he was going to have to go. It was Max’s birthday on Tuesday and he’s been putting it off for weeks. He was going to have to go back to Starcourt.

It would be fine, he knows what she wants, he knows where to get it. In, out and no problem.

No problem.

Steve dropped down on the sofa next to him. “Any plans for the day?” He enquires while fiddling absentmindedly with Billy’s curls. He takes a deep breath and tells Steve he needs to go to the mall, he tries to ignore the way Steve flinches next to him. “It’s Max’s birthday on Tuesday, I know what she wants.” He can see Steve worrying his bottom lip out of the corner of his eye, he knows that his concern comes from a good place, but right now it’s starting to chip at his own fragile confidence. He reaches out and frees Steve’s lip from between his teeth. “It’ll come off if you keep that up, you’ll come with me though, won’t you?”

It’s less problematic than he had imagined. It was different now, the mall had been reconfigured, the town just as keen to rid itself of the memories. The colours lean into the softer pastels rather than bright neon, the plant laden food court replaced with a roller rink. They found the shop, and the present, easily enough. Billy had over heard her telling Eleven about it on the phone, a white crew neck with rainbow stripes down the capped sleeves, it was classic Max.

Steve gives him a bright smile as they leave the shop, a ‘the sun is shining and there’s nothing to worry about’ kind of smile, he can’t help as a smile of his own creeps up. Wishes that he could kiss him, but not here, there’d be plenty of time for that once they got home, plenty of time for something else…

“You two are gross”

Billy is snapped from his, incredibly pleasant, thoughts to the child in front of him. It was Dustin, by far the least annoying of the gaggle of children. A small mercy, but it also means he is going to have to stand here for the next ten years while they talk about something horribly nerdy.

He fiddles aimlessly with the zippo in his pocket, flicking it open and shut while Dustin talks about something called an Elder Titan. Billy tries not to roll his eyes, opting instead to kick at a small stone next to his foot and watches it skitter across the floor, landing at the top of a pattern set in black tiles. He swallows, throat suddenly feeling tight. He realises, with a crushing dread that he is stood in the spot. The exact spot.

The sounds of the busy mall begin to fade away, replaced by the sounds of splintering glass, the screeching of bending metal, the shattering of tiles. It’s cold now, as suffocating as the burning pain in his chest.

“Steve…”

His voice comes out small, he can feel himself begin to shake. He closes his eyes, brings his hand up to his necklace, feels it press into his palm. Trying desperately to focus on the reality of the small metal pendant.

Don’t freak out, you can’t freak out. Not now. Not here.

Nausea rolls through him, black smoke and thunder storms. It’s so sudden and impossibly overwhelming. Flashes of rows and rows of teeth, a shaking girl in a tunnel of blackness.

“Billy”

The voice was so familiar, yet so far away.

Then there was something else, this was warmer, closer, real. Fingers running over his temple, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, running down the side of his neck, closing over his, still clutching his necklace. Another hand, smaller this time, cradles his elbow.

“Just breathe, come back to me”

It was Steve.

He forces himself to take a breath, to focus on Steve’s hand over his. The sounds of the mall begin to return, too loud and bright. He keeps breathing, forces his eyes open.

The other hand had belonged to Dustin, who was looking at him with an expression that would have been sweet if the whole situation wasn’t so utterly embarrassing. He presses something into his hand, the blue and red banded wrapper crinkles under his touch.

“They always make me feel better”

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ficmylife4 · 4 years ago

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Vol 20′s first chapter is 170, so glad I got it

Yusuke Murata’s images are brilliant for many reasons, but I want to point out two panels on top of each other in particular.

First, this is one of my favorite pages. For those who haven’t read Eyeshield 21 yet, just try to imagine 150+ chapters of Hiruma the terrifying and ruthless and demonically driven who is obsessed with winning, going to insane lengths, and leading the team in his cry of “We’re gonna KILL them! Yeah!” And when he is asked why he plays football:

Because it’s fun.

The word ‘innocent’ would run screaming from Hiruma’s shadow as it falls across the ground, so maybe ‘genuine’? Just, this honest joy being behind it all is such a hit. And the following image, of the team all together celebrating, drives it home that Hiruma values this. Not him standing at the top alone or him gloating over losers, but the team and the work they’ve put in reaching success.

I’ve seen the top panel on tumblr a few times, but I want to talk about the lower two panels now, because they deserve recognition too.

The contrast of these panels is fantastic. In terms of character, we just learned something about Hiruma’s joy and fun and belonging. As Sena figured out, when Hiruma kicks someone without saying anything, it’s his version of praise, so he’s even congratulating/complimenting the pipsqueak here. Then Agon, and this felt like the final strike of the nail in the wall between these two characters, when the whole chapter has been playing with how superficially similar they might seem, but arrogant and solitarily superior Agon cannot fit into any such picture. In terms of mood, the energy and movement and crowd of the top panel gets cut off abruptly by the utter stillness and cool of Agon’s shade, where we can’t even see his human eye, so I felt it was both intimidating and empty/lonely.

On a technical side, my favorite manga artists give the reader’s eye a path to follow in the panels. Don’t just skim over lined up images of similar size, or clutter the frame so the reader has to go back and examine it all randomly. Even better when it follows to the next panel, like a sword extended up and to the left corner of a panel, with the tip of the sword on level with the eyes of the next panel, of a character leaning forward to the upper right hand corner of his panel, spine leading down diagonally to a weapon his hand at the lower left corner.

Hard to explain, so though it hurt me to draw on the jpeg, watch how reader eyes naturally starting at the top right corner of the top/middle panel move among the characters, and then slide into Agon’s smooth close-up:

I just FEEL that slick slide over those emotionless shades after bouncing among the cheering team. Murata is constantly adding reflections in parts of panels, but this warped view taking up most of the panel is rare. And he loves showing the other player’s face or pose reflected in eyeshields or helmets, and yet Hiruma doesn’t even reflect in Agon’s eyes. Just the dark there. Gives me chills.

#eyeshield 21 #manga

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roc-thoughtblog · 4 years ago

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SSBU SEPHIROTH DLC THOUGHTS PART 2 of 2

The second post on what I think of the Sephiroth DLC, this time on Sephiroth himself. Moveset, playstyle, etc. The first post has my thoughts on the music, stage and trailer.

tl;dr: Sephiroph seems to join Byleth in an oddly specific new archetype of explosive, long-reach, shield-disrespecting swordsmen. Shadow Flare is uniquely mad and I think its incredible. I have no idea how good One-Winged Angel will turn out to be. 90% chance Mkleo will take him through tournament and I’m looking forward to seeing the carnage.

CONTENTS:

General Playstyle

Shadow Flare

Octoslash

One-Winged Angel

Final Smash

Overall

GENERAL PLAYSTYLE: The most obvious comparison to make here would be with Byleth. They share three key similarities that are otherwise uncommon in the 78 strong cast:

Their forward and backward aerials have notably similar function, with extremely long horizontal range and an extremely deadly sweetspot. The two characters will likely be spacing similarly in neutral, and will likely rack safe KOs in similar scenarios, spacing back air very safely against cornered or frametrapped opponents near the edge of the stage. While many characters do this because back airs are generally strong and fast and a cornered opponent is an easy target, these two are the ones who will be doing it while occupying a very specific stage position that they don't share with many other characters.

They can both create extremely deadly situations at the ledge at very early percents, with the key similarity that they can both cover many options at once while also safely threatening below the ledge. Byleth with their forward smash trap with the sweetspot that can potentially KO you at 40%, Sephiroth with Gigaflare, and to a lesser extent their down smash.

They both seem to have an ability to absolutely decimate shields baked into their movesets in a way most characters do not. Both of them have sweetspots on their spacing normals, and projectiles (special note should be made of Shadow Flare), that do hefty shield damage on their own accord. To build on this, both of them have normals designed to utterly shatter any shields that are even slightly damaged, being Byleth's Aymr normals and Sephiroth's down smash. And on top of that, they both have charge specials designed to be able to KO at very low percents. All characters can punish bad shields with grabs to various levels of effect, but these are two characters which are designed to prey on bad shields at range as a regular part of their gameplan, with an ultimate reward on success of near guaranteed KO at any percent.

Together they seem to be forming a new moveset archetype of swordfighter in smash, characterised by sacrificing general attributes of mobility and/or weight for a deadly combination of extreme horizontal sweetspots, devastating traps, and a predatory disrepect for shields at their optimal range. Which, personally I think is really cool. It seems reasonable to expect that they will function fairly similarly outside of One-Winged-Angel form.

Of their differences, outside of the obvious general differences that Byleth is heavier and Sephiroth is more mobile, and leaving aside unique properties of Shadow Flare and OWA, the other difference is that where Sephiroth has greater range coverage in general, Byleth is less vulnerable up close.

Byleth's arcing hitboxes on their tilts mean they lack blind spots that Sephiroth has to move or jump to cover. Also, their longer-lasting multihit neutral air has better defensive properties up close, due to more shield pressure and having a landing hitbox mixup. From this we can probably make a basic inference, before any specific factors, that Sephiroth's will likely start with a similar matchup spread to Byleth's, albeit slightly more polarised.

SHADOW FLARE: This is Sephiroth's most unique attack, and likely the one that will come to define Sephiroth's general playstyle. What it affords Sephiroth, no other character has. No, not even Megaman's crash bomber. It comes the closest, but it's just not the same.

Shadow Flare is a powerful offensive autonomous disruption tool. On a superficial level, returning projectiles like Belmont's Cross or Link's boomerang can situationally be used to trap and autonomously disrupt opponents. So can timed projectiles like bombs and grenades, for a given space. However, those all involve situations that can be escaped by the opponent through movement. Only Shadow Flare and Crash Bomber force the opponent to stop what they are doing and interact with attack through a defensive option. And of those two, while Crash Bomber is another useful tool in Megaman's kit, Shadow Flare is instead uniquely devastating in the context of Sephiroth's moveset.

Shadow Flare is a tool that, at any point in the future when it sets off, immediately has the potentially to turn the game around for Sephiroth against most of the cast. If Sephiroth is under attack or in disadvantage, it forces the opponent to relent. If Sephiroth and the opponent are in neutral or are at a stalemate, it immediately gives Sephiroth an opening. And if the opponent is in disadvantage, is trapped, or is on the run, it immediately makes the situation worse. Against most of the cast, this is already an amazing move that fulfils its purpose with 100% reliability just in its ability to force a shield, a dodge, counter or an escape to the ledge.

But then there's its power, and Sephiroth's moveset, to consider.

As the Shadow Flares pile up, dodging stops being a reliable option, or just flat out stops being an option, as the attacks when the Flares explode start outlasting dodge invulnerability. As soon as the opponent is made vulnerable, or as punishment for dodging, Sephiroth's powerful sweetspots enter the picture for big hits or a potential KO from a variety of stage positions. Octoslash is even available if Sephiroth really needs the burst movement to reach the opponent, and is itself quite powerful. And when shielded, at higher numbers the Flares absolutely shred shields on top of trapping opponents in shield for a while. And given Sephiroth's propensity for high shield-damage sweetspots on his normals, and moveset that capitalises on broken shields... you get the idea, probably in the form of a Gigaflare.

I think every player interested in Sephiroth needs to be immediately aware of the sheer power of this move. I don't think I am overstating its significance when I say that it can be a win condition in and of itself. Due to the relatively short range and low hitstun on the base projectile, it may be difficult to safely land in neutral without trading, but honestly? In many situations, as long as you're not getting KO'd or put straight offstage by the trade, that trade is probably worth it. Sephiroth is a character with the raw power to snowball a KO with a single opening at almost any percent, and provided you're not in heavy disadvantage at the time, you've just set yourself up that opening in a few seconds to the future. Outside of neutral, it's probably an attack you would want to land at almost any available opportunity after combos or during strings or tech chases, to set youself up for beyond the current string.

Being such a powerful and potentially centralising tool though, it will be interesting to see how Sephiroth will fare relatively in matchups where its application can be shut down, or even a detriment. I can already see Shadow Flare being a detriment in the Joker matchup, being incredibly potent Rebel's Guard fuel; and I suspect Arsene is already extra deadly to Sephiroth due to his light weight, and due to Eigaon giving Joker the option to fight Sephiroth from outside his range. Other notable such matchups might be Game and Watch for bucket, anybody with an absorb, and potentially Hero for bounce. Incineroar could be hilarious but given Sephiroth's range I don't see it being much of a problem.

OCTOSLASH: Octoslash very good. We've seen it's type before. It's just extra big, extra strong, extra disjointed and extra damaging now. It's a lot.

It's just so much extra bigger, stronger, disjointed and damaging that I felt the need to draw extra attention to it. Also it scoops at least some characters from their ledge-hang, so it's potentially yet another deadly, wide coverage Sephiroth ledgetrap option.

Imagine if Sephiroth's massive up air could be used to ladder. Octoslash finisher ladder combos would be hilariously upsetting, I would love to see it modded. It would be completely in character for Sephiroth to upset everyone with blatantly broken combos on obscene moves.

ONE-WINGED ANGEL: I have no real comments on how I think it will affect his playstyle as I really don't know, and we probably won't know exactly for a while. Sephiroth will of course be overall better in every dimension, but it's hard to directly quantify the specific effects of the movement speed enhancements and an extra jump brings beyond the obvious: better recovery, slightly wider combo windows, better strings, better tech chases, better spacing. It'll take people a fair amount of labbing and experimentation to see full potential, and then even more time to see how much of that potential is practical. The super armor on smash attacks is very nice though.

What I wanted to note was that, of the comeback-styled character mechanics in smash so far, One-Winged-Angel is probably one of the better designed. This is mostly for the fact that as it's only supposed to be received once per stock, and only last until the opponent's stock is taken, it's the one least likely to snowball. Having said that I am a Joker player and I do like my Arsene. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

FINAL SMASH: Supernova is completely over the top and I love it. One of my favourite out of the new cinematic final smashes. Some of the previous DLC ones have been slightly disappointing in an "overly obvious .jpeg" way, so it's nice to see this one go all out.

OVERALL: Very cool character. Flashy glass cannon, and Shadow Flare's unique properties interact with Sephiroth's moveset to take any similarities he might share with other characters and add a new level of threat to them. I also personally find Byleth's archetype to be very fun to play and watch, because who doesn't like a meaty sweetspot or a good shield break? Sephiroth seems very much the type of character that Mkleo will give a few tournament runs, and I'm looking forward to seeing what he can do with him.

#ssbu #ssbu dlc #sephiroph #super smash bros ultimate #ssbu sephiroth #oh hey rad like 1600 words #goes to show sometimes i have opinions #video games #fighting games

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architectnews · 4 years ago

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The Labyrinth Competition 2020

The Labyrinth Architecture Competition News, ARCH8 Architectural Contest News

The Labyrinth Competition News

14 Dec 2020

The Labyrinth Competition 2020 News

Being architects and designers, we are always asked to design places that suit humans in every way possible. We are asked to make spaces that are human interactive and those that suit their consciousness the best. But can you design a space that challenges the person’s senses and makes him reconsider where he is and what is he doing?

The Labyrinth Design Competition is all about that, state organisers ARCH8.

THE LABYRINTH is an architectural maze. Is architectural maze even a phrase? We don’t know and we don’t care.

Then what do ARCH8 mean by that?

Let’s say, it is a building built like a maze with a starting point and an ending point. With a lot of dead ends, difficult choices and various openings, but only one path to exit.

OBJECTIVE

Design a maze in a building for people to have fun in. You can use all kinds of architectural elements like doors, windows, stairs, slides and what not. There can be dark zones, mirror zones, scary zones and whatever comes to your mind.

The starting and ending point of the maze should be on ground floor only.

Architectural elements should be majorly used.

It should look like a regular building from outside.

There will be ticketed entries for the building and will be used by 3 customers at a time.

The building can go upto 12m with ground coverage of 100 sqm maximum.

So basically, you have to challenge your problem solving mind to design a problem creating design.

REQUIREMENTS

1 A2 (landscape) composed with (at least):

1 plan

1 section

1 view

Design explanation (not more than 150 words).

Path from entry to exit through the maze.

Sheet code mentioned in top right corner

Submission must not include your Name, School or Organization which gives away your identity.

All dimensions should be imperial or in metric units.

JUDGING CRITERIA

Extend to which architectural elements are used.

Creativity in making the paths of the maze.

Sheet presentation skills

REGISTRATION DETAILS

Indian National Foreign National Early-bird Registration

350 INR 7 USD Standard Registration

420 INR 10 USD Late Registration

540 INR 15 USD

NOTE: A team can have upto 3 members

TIMELINE

Registration deadline: 30th January 2021

Submission deadline: 10th February 2021

Result announcement: 15th February 2021

The following dates can be a subject of modification, if necessary.

SUBMIT AT

Submit in .jpeg format of file size not more than 5mb.

Submit your entry at: [email protected]

Subject of the mail: Your UCI (XXXXX)

Name of the file uploaded: Your UCI (XXXXX)

PRIZES

Winner: Cash prize of INR 7500 + Acknowledgement on the design contest website and social media + publication of the participants’ interview (Video) on website + 40% discount on the next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

1st Runner-up: Cash prize of INR 4500 + Acknowledgement as above + 30% discount on the next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

2nd Runner-up: Cash prize of INR 3000 + Acknowledgement as 1st & 2nd prizes + 20% discount on the next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

10 Honorable mentions: Acknowledgement on the website + 10% discount on the next architecture competition + certificate of achievement

Participation certificate for all the participants.

FAQs

What is the nature of the competition?

‘THE LABYRINTH’ is an open idea design competition challenge which is open for students, professionals & for any individual with a creative mind.

Who can participate in the competition?

Architecture students, Architects, Interior Designer, Civil engineers & anyone with creativity can participate in the competition.

How many members can be a part of a team?

A team can have a maximum of 3 members. You can also participate individually.

Will every participant get a certificate of participation?

Yes, each registered participant will receive an e-certificate.

What should be done in case a payment mode is not available in a particular country?

In such case we request the participants to write about the issue at [email protected]

to get other payment options. We will send all possible payment methods.

How will a team get its Unique Identification Code?

The Unique Identification Code ( UIC ) will be mailed on your registered e-mail address within 24 hrs after completing the registration process. There is only one UIC code for all the team members of a team.

What is the use of Unique Identification Code?

All the participants are requested to use their UIC at the top right corner of your submission as it is your identity for the competition related processes.

What to do if a participant does not receive the UIC after making payment?

In such cases the participants are asked to mail their payment receipt [email protected].

Does the 150 word limit include legends & one-liners in the sheet?

No, the 150 word limit is for the proposal explanation only and it does not include the legends & one-liners on the sheet.

The Labyrinth Design Competition images / information received 141220

Architectural Competitions

Current / Recent architectural contests on e-architect:

2A Continental Architectural Awards 2020

Re-imagining Stations Competition

Network Rail Re-imagining Stations Competition

3rd Generation New Towns in Korea Design Contest

3rd Generation New Towns in Korea Architecture Competition

London Architectural Competitions

24H Architecture Competition

Architecture Competition

Comments / photos for The Labyrinth Design Competition 2020 page welcome

The post The Labyrinth Competition 2020 appeared first on e-architect.

#e-architect

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iwritesometimes · 7 years ago

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welcome to my ted talk on bugs

or, how to recommend your favorite video game that you’ve barely played

in the LJ days, we’d have called this a ~primer~ and been grateful for whatever shitty watermarked jpegs we could get to load on our sometimes-unpredictable university internet connections. now, however, i can offer you a full multimedia presentation on a little game i think you should all buy, regardless of whether you’re actually interested in playing it...a little game i like to call

and not just me - its developer, australian indie outfit team cherry, also like to call it that! they called it that when they created a kickstarter for it way back in 2014, earning well past their modest budget goal, which allowed them, in 2017, to release a beautiful, brutal little indie platformer (a metroidvania, for those of you familiar with the term) about a lost and dying kingdom of bugs suffering under a mysterious scourge that infects the minds of what few poor souls remain.

welcome to hallownest.

(as you read, you may want to set the mood with the game’s main theme - i’ll come back to the music later!!)

you are a small but mighty knight drawn to the kingdom for reasons unknown - not quite part of this world, but vital to it somehow. you venture into the underground caverns and crevices wielding your fierce nail (which is just exactly sword-sized for you) and a growing mastery of VOID and SOUL energies, mysterious but powerful.

you will explore hidden passageways and decaying ruins, meet deadly enemies and unexpected friends, and poke through the wreckage of a civilzation’s sins and triumphs, reconstructing a portrait of this place and yourself, piece by piece, if you’re patient and curious enough to tackle every last corner of this sprawling nest.

here’s where my full disclosure comes in: i haven’t beaten this game. i haven’t even gotten onto the same continent as “beating this game,” let alone finishing all 40ish hours of its content. i got...*checks game clock* not quite ten hours into it, kept getting my ass handed to me by a boss, and put the game down for a break. that was...more than six months ago, now, while i let myself get distracted with other interests and other games (y’all should totally play celeste, too, if you’re at all into platformers!), but lately i started listening to the soundtrack again, which got me to watching some youtube videos (which is how i originally discovered it, watching day9′s playthrough), which dragged me right back into my wholly unhealthy obsession with this game.

because i am. i am obsessed with it. it’s one of those perfect combinations of “artistic choices designed to punch every last happy button in sarah’s brain” and it hammers on each and every one of them until i’m left scouring youtube and the subreddit scrounging for whatever scrap of lore or fun fan theory i can get my grubby little paws on, like some sort of feral stimulus-starved idiot who could just be playing the game instead. it’s a sad, dark story that reveals itself almost entirely in context clues from the environment and random comments made by npcs; there are very few cutscenes, and it expects you to do the leg work of exploring and learning and piecing together the whole picture (and then perhaps to do a bit of wild theorizing and wiki-crawling to fill in the gaps). it has the most unique, endearing art style - hand-drawn sprites that look straight out of a children’s picture book in lush, painterly environments dripping with a sort of insectoid-art nouveau sensibility and seemingly lit from within, beautiful shafts of light and light bloom effects and light particles dancing all over the screen. the soundtrack is fucking phenomenal, created by christopher larkin as a piano-and-strings-heavy jaunt through wildly varying landscapes, all sinking under a gorgeously sad, funerary feeling, all this dying beauty and lurking danger around you. each boss and zone has a fantastic and individual theme all their own; my favorites are:

dirtmouth

hornet

mantis lords

city of tears

dung defender

queen’s gardens

nosk

and the game world is MASSIVE, unfolding itself bit by bit to an almost ludicrous size - part of what i find daunting about the game is its sheer hugeness, although this is mitigated by The Gaming World’s Greatest Fast Travel System Ever - a stag beetle taxi service!! i would die for this large man.

the other part of the game that’s daunting, though, is that it’s hard as fucking nails. there is no easier setting or an assist mode like in celeste; while the game is pretty generous with powerups and very customizable to your playstyle with different abilities you can swap out to change your battle plans, the combat is very demanding, relying on precise timing and execution. fighting is in itself a bit like platforming in hollow knight, very aerial and dependent upon using enemies as launching-off points that reset your double jump and air dash abilities. it’s incredibly fun to play, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not easy. i’m not sure, even if i tried, that i could ever beat this game, which is the other thing that’s kept me from playing it and instead had me just immersing myself in the lore and in videos to see the story unfold. it’s kind of scary!

having said that, though? this game is $15 US American human dollars. let me repeat that: fifteen ($15) smackers gets you 40+ hours of content (the main story with the Good Ending will take you somewhere between 30 and 50 hours depending on if you’re slow and dumb like me, but there’s a good deal of optional content and extra bosses that aren’t necessary to 100% the game) and one of the prettiest, most imaginative, best-sounding, and engrossing gaming experiences i’ve ever come across, not to mention one of the largest maps and some of the most challenging platforming and combat ever put into a metroidvania. oh, and three separate included DLCs. by the way. for $15.

if for no other reason, please buy this game to support a small team of innovative game designers whose passion is clear in every frame of this gorgeous little bug adventure, so that they can keep making excellent titles like this for me to wax poetic about on tumblr. the game is available on steam, gog, and the humble store, and will soon (this year, though the date hasn’t dropped yet) be out on switch. where i will buy it again. and then probably buy some merch. because if i could personally fund team cherry in their endeavors forever, i would!! but, in lieu of that, i’ll just bug everyone i ever meet to buy their game.

(get it? bug everyone???? do you g--DO YOU GET IT???)

if you’re interested in more info, or you think the gameplay might not be for you but want to see more of the story, have some additional links!

a couple of game trailers

a 100% completion run of the game, including the Good Ending - not ideal because the streamer does occasionally fast-forward through bits of backtracking, BUT there’s no voiceover commentary and he interacts with a lot of npcs so you can follow along with the story a bit better. also he’s playing a game mode that forces him not to die even once, so you don’t have to watch a lot of replaying and corpse runs.

joseph anderson’s long-form critique/review - spoilery and in-depth, but smart and insightful, although he’s a hardass gamer so his criticism sometimes comes down on the game being too easy for him. lol -_-

the full soundtrack. LISTEN TO IT. and then go throw money at the composer for it, it’s only $10. or you can buy it bundled with the game on steam and gog!

the wiki

the subreddit

the tumblr tag FULL OF GLORIOUS ART and a few dubious nudes of um. insects. the internet’s a cornucopia of gifts, y’all.

the ao3 tag, where you will find me, gorging myself on fic while i continue to procrastinate on playing the game.

#thanks for coming to my LITERAL ted talk!!!!!#hollow knight #after you're done with all that come taaaaaalk to meeeeee about this bug gaaaaaaame

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valleanenowe-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

dreams a few nights ago

i’m at the top of the fire escape of a very tall building with someone. across the street is a real-life building in my city with a staircase that i want to climb because i’ve been driving past it as inaccessible scenery for my entire life. but i need to see if the building is public so i can maybe walk to the top, turn it into a real place, break a barrier, look out the big tall window at the landscape. in the dream it is overcast & the staircase extends out of the top of the building a bit, into the sky. the people on it are in danger of being struck by lightning

exploring an older single-story building with whoever. they run outside to an expanse of dirt under a big highway bridge. they wave at me to follow but it is still overcast. i am scared of being struck by lightning

someone talking about how an album i’m familiar with has a concept which is the idea that the album created itself

dreams last night

i get a several-paragraph message on tumblr. i am reading it outside apartments. it interests me a lot. whoever sent it appears down the sidewalk & looks at me. i can’t focus on it while they’re looking at me, i lie face down on the sidewalk & laugh a lot

a guy named taylors ong appears at my house, wanting to be my friend. my dad introduces him, seeming perturbed. i walk back & forth outside my house & talk some with taylors ong. my house is an apartment, but it looks way different, in a way different location. near a highway maybe. a very broad concrete porch

the sky is overcast. there is very satisfying crunchy thunder. i say to taylors ong that it sounds like bitcrush. he brought a cardboard box full of snack foods like peanut butter. he mentions that there is no alcoholic food or drink. one of the jars of paste has a funny name that makes me laugh a lot. i can’t remember it now

taylors ong wishes to hold me on a couch on the porch so i am held by taylors ong there. i become muffled in physiological comfort like insulating foam being stacked on all my senses. a void with loose jpeg artifact flickers of golden light. my brother appears. i hide under the cheetah blanket (that i’ve had for nearly my entire life) until he goes away while taylors ong shows him how to turn off a calculator

i am being held by taylors ong on his bed in his room in his house in the city of binghamton new york. he lives with his dad. maybe his mom & some other relatives, but i never see them. there is a music visualizer displayed on a big monitor. it is an oscilloscope. i start laughing a little, trying to remember a good joke i once thought of. it was like, an oscilloscope but instead of a line, it’s … some absurd shape. a cube? but for each thing i think of, i can imagine a music visualizer reasonably being based on it

i am trying to compose the words to explain to taylors ong that sometimes people appear in my life wanting to be physically affectionate towards me like in 2017 & i am sufficiently desperate for physical affection that i accept regardless of anything then come to my senses & feel like a sociopath for accepting physical affection from someone who i probably do not love. while i am trying to compose these words he says he’ll be right back & leaves the room

after a little while i get up & exit the room. i examine the landing outside that leads to a few different rooms. i see two chihuahuas resting together on a stool, & a preadolescent girl’s bedroom

i’m outside, walking along the sidewalk. i see taylor’s dad, john ong, sitting in the front lawn. his house has a bandcamp bio. this is the second dream in a row where i experience a location partly as a bandcamp page. his house’s bandcamp bio is magnificent. it is this: “JOHN ONG: THE OGGIEST OGG”

john ohn’s house is near a corner. i walk there. i recognize this part of town from when i was in this city three years ago. i walk the other way down the block. it morphs from a suburb to a more commercial area. i see an intersection that looks identical to an intersection in my city, near a coffee shop i frequent. i get excited. i want some coffee! i hurry that way. the coffee shop’s name is related to where it is, so i wonder if it’ll be anomalously transplanted to binghamton with the same name, or be renamed to suit the location …

as i approach the intersection, i see it’s not really that similar & there is no coffee shop. i turn & walk the opposite way, down what is now a big paved commercial avenue for foot traffic with no hint of a suburb. i pass a store selling safes. little plaques boast that they will all eventually be used in area 51. maybe it was a different number. but still a very top secret place. the safes are used to store unrefrigerated meat where maggots can’t get it. a guy starts giving me a pitch & showing me a slideshow of different kinds of maggots. i say “thanks for trying to educate me but i’m not sure my stomach can take any more of this!!!”, & hurry along. the truth is i was just not interested in his safes pitch

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stilinski-jpeg · 7 years ago

Text

The Preacher’s Daughter

Author: @stilinski-jpeg

A/N: This collab is so funny because I literally had this idea and Camile was like “I’m already writing one.” Nia and Camile strike again. This is going to be a series, so buckle up babes it’s going to be a hell of a ride. I have to thank @minhosmeanhoe (Camile) for pushing me to do this when my motivation was lacking and always being there for me when I get stuck. She also proofread and edited this because she’s literally the best. Okay, without further ado.

Paring: ReaderxMitchfuckingRapp

Warnings: Is it a stilinski-jpeg/minhosmeanhoe fic without smut?? Otherwise, no warnings.

Word Count: 4682

Camile’s version: here

Song: Good Kid by Former Vandal

I felt creepy, watching her as intently as I was. I leaned against the bar, scotch in hand, my eyes glued to the way the lights hit her body. As much as I tried to will myself to stop staring at her, I didn't want to. The club was dark and filled with people, but somehow my eyes only found her. I could vaguely see her mouthing the lyrics as she swayed her hips around. She may have been with someone, but I couldn't tell nor did I care. Nothing could stop my mind from imagining that perfect ass she had, grinding all over me. My dick hardened at the thought, straining uncomfortably against my dark denim jeans.

She smiled as she lost herself in the music, closing her eyes, and allowing herself to move freely. She was gorgeous, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The whole club dimmed in comparison to her. I pulled my glass to my lips, downing the last of its contents. Even after drinking liquor for so long, it still continued to burn every time it went down my esophagus. I sat the glass down on the bar counter, signaling to the waiter for another one. I glanced back to the dance floor, expecting to see the beauty in the red dress; but she'd disappeared. Like she was a mere figment of my imagination.

I internally cursed myself for looking away. At the very least I liked watching her dance and at the very most I wanted her to dance on my dick. I gave the crowd another once over, before not seeing her and turning back to the bar to see how my drink was coming along.

“FRANKIE!” A voice from next to me called out.

I hadn't noticed its arrival earlier. So I was surprised when I called down to find a girl with a tight little red dress and her friend, waving down the bartender somehow squeezed in between me and another guy who was too preoccupied with an over enthusiastic blonde with tits bigger than her brain to notice the two new arrivals.

“Camile, tell your friend you'll be carrying her out of here if I give you two anymore shots!” The bartender called, a small smile on his face as he worked.

“As long as I still get some.” The girl I presumed was Camile winked at him. She was a gorgeous girl with curly blonde hair and green eyes that could capture any man. “You, can have whatever you want.” He replied, making her giggle.

“Oh don't be a party pooper, Frank!” The girl in the red dressed scowled, a vague sense of humour in her tone. “I'm barely tipsy!”

Frank seemed to consider this as he poured a brown coloured liquor in a small glass over a few large ice cubes.

“Let me get that guy his drink and then we’ll see about some shots.” He sounded fatherly, but gave the two girls a knowing smile as he walked past them to place the drink in front of me. I shot him a polite smile before bringing the drink to my mouth pretending like I hadn't been eavesdropping on their entire conversation. When I pulled it away, she was looking at me. I was going to play like I didn't notice, but I couldn't with how pointed she stared. There was a playful smirk on her lips, that matched the colour of her dress, as her glistening eyes looked over me. I couldn't help my smile as it grew on my face. It was a rarity for a girl to be seizing me up in a bar, usually it was the other way around. But she didn't shy away even after I caught her, which only intrigued me further.

She turned back suddenly just in time for Frank the bartender to bring four shot glasses containing clear liquid. The two girls vibrated with excitement at their arrival, Camile licking her lips as Frank watched in awe which is what I suspected she wanted.

“Throw those on my tab!” I called out to him, raising my glass to get his attention. He nodded his head in understanding, before walking over to the machine to do so. Both girls turned to face me, smiles adorning their faces and thank you's spilling from their mouths.

Her mouth.

My eyes easily gravitated to it. Her bottom lip was full and plump while her top lip was just slightly less, but that didn't stop my brain from imagining them around my cock.

Camile quickly became wrapped up in a conversation with Frank and Little Red Dress turned to face me as a result. I didn't hide the way my eyes were attracted to certain parts of her body, the same way she hadn't. When I meant her face again, she was smiling. Her head was tilted fractionally to one side, like doing so would help her assess me better. I cocked an eyebrow at her, making her giggle.

“Look at you all whiskey eyed and brooding.” She spoke finally, her lashes fluttering slightly. I couldn't say that I was surprised that her first words to me were a backhanded compliment, but suppressed the smile that pulled at the corners of my mouth when I spoke to her.

“I'm not brooding!” I defended, which probably made me seem more brooding.

“You're brooding.” She said matter of factly, shrugging and grabbing one of her shots and knocking it back. I watched as her tongue dragged over her beautiful plump lips, clearing them of any liquid that remained. I could barely handle the sight of it, my cock aching it was so hard. But I took a half sip of my whiskey and smiled at her.

“What do I call you?” I asked, taking a small step toward her. She looked at the small gap that was now between us before looking up, her lip caught between her teeth. God, what was this girl doing to me?

“I don’t know, maybe my name?” She sassed, her eyes fluttering slightly. I couldn't help but smile at her. There was a bite to her words but somehow she still looked so sweet when saying them.

Bet she tasted it too.

“And would that be?” I mused, finally setting my drink down and stepping towards her again until our bodies were practically touching. She was steadily winning me over. Most girls I met drew easily to my charm, but not her. She saw through more than she should. She smiled cunningly at me, grabbing her last shot and drinking it too before finally answering me.

“Well, you've got all night to find out.” She smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Why don’t you come dance with me?”

She was already pulling me to the dance floor before I had the chance to answer. I followed her, although I was a little concerned with the fact that I had no idea how to dance. I come to the clubs for the hard liquor and the women, not the dancing. She was standing in front of me, looking like a damn vixen with her hips swaying beautifully in time with the music, but I was too concerned with what I was supposed to be doing. I tried to find the beat of the music, stepping side to side awkwardly, quickly becoming frustrated with it. She grabbed my hips a second later, pulling them to hers. She guided me along with her and I watched how our two bodies connected and moved timely with each other.

“Not much of a dancer, are you?” She yelled over the music, her usual smile on her lips.

I shook my head chuckling at her, “What gave me away?”

“The lack of hip movement.” She teased, grabbing my hips a little tighter and grinding them into hers. She closed her eyes, her head falling back and her eyes fluttering close. Adrenaline coursed through my body at the thought that just my hips could do that to her. Fuck, she was too fucking good at this.

Without warning, she released my hips and turned around so her perfect ass was aligned with my pelvis. She wrapped her arm around my neck, bringing my face to her neck, while she ground against my dick. I pressed my lips to the crook of her neck and she ground harder. I growled without meaning to, her movements sending my brain into a frenzy. The beat changed slightly and she moved with it, dropping down low before coming back up tremendously slow. I savoured her ass as it slid up my legs and replacing itself on my crotch. I couldn't help how hard my cock was getting as she bounced her ass against me. She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes dark - lust inhabiting them.

“Someone’s enjoying this.”

“Every fucking second.” I replied, not even trying to hide the hold she had over me anymore.

“How about we have some more fun that you can enjoy? My car’s outback.” She raised her eyebrows at me, like she knew it would be freakishly hard for me to resist.

“My hotel rooms a block away.” I countered, raising my own eyebrows at her.

She smiled, grabbing my hand and leading us towards the exit. I was completely taken by this girl. In my line of work, I’d met countless of girls. None, however, like her. She knew exactly what she wanted in an almost fearless kind of way. She saw right past the front that most people had a hard time getting past. She was nothing like anything I’d seen before.

“Where are you off to young lady?” Camile’s voice rang out over the music. She was sitting at the bar, while Frankie that bartender found himself buried into her neck.

I didn’t hear or see Little Red Dress’s response, but it made Camile laugh. She winked at her friend before yelling, “Stay Safe, kitten!”

“I always am!” She called back.

My mind clung to the nickname her friend gave her. Playing it over and over in my head, even as we walked out of the club and silence surrounded us. Something about it was so fitting for her, sweet and innocent like a kitten but her feline instincts always ringing true.

“Which way?” She asked, looking down either end of the sidewalk.

“I like kitten.” I said, almost kicking myself for speaking. I truthfully hadn’t meant for the phrase to leave my head, but this girl had a way of wearing me down.

Her eyes were big as she looked at me, her lip tucked into her teeth. Something about what I had said wore her down, the badass front diminishing for a moment. I could be mistaken, but I could have sworn I saw her cheeks flush slightly.

“I like you.” She said finally, pulling me by my hand closer to her until she was pressed against me. Using her other hand to guide my head towards her, our lips brushing. I’m sure it was meant to have been a small brisk kiss, but the second our lips touched we couldn’t stop. Her tongue invaded my mouth trying quickly to assert dominance. I let her think she had it for a second, until finally showing her who was in charge. I grabbed her hips roughly, a gasp escaping. I seized the opportunity and let my tongue roam her mouth. She tasted better than I would have ever imagined her to. The liquor that she’d drank earlier in the night made it difficult for me to tell whether it was her or it, I was drunk off of.

“Fuck.” I mumbled against her lips as I furiously fumbled through my pockets for my room key. I'd had her pinned against the door to my hotel for a good five minutes, our lips barely parting even for air. She was far more addicting than I ever would have expected. She pushed her hips into mine, a small whimper escaping with it. I felt my cock stiffen and I knew I needed to get her in that room before I fucked her right there in the hallway.

I reluctantly pulled out of the kiss so I could focus on finding my card like key. I found it in just a few seconds, no longer having her delicious lips to tempt me. Her eyes never left my face as I slid the card into the slot causing the red light on the lock to turn green. There was a distinct click and as soon as I heard it, I turned the handle to open the door.

We stumbled into the dark apartment, not even bothering to turn on a light. I pulled her back to me connecting our lips once again pushing her further into the room. Her mouth had me hypnotised in a way no woman had before. I could feel my cock hardening with every step we took into the apartment, until finally we reached the bed.

I felt her falter a little when the back of her legs met it. She moved from my lips, looking down at the bed before smirking back up at me. My stomach did a backflip as she did, cementing the idea in my head that she was dangerous. And I loved danger. I watched as she screwed her arm around behind her back, I frowned wondering what she was doing until I heard the buzzing sound of her zipper being pulled down. I felt my cock twitch with excitement as I scanned her eyes. She bit her bottom lip and leaned up to me as if she was going to kiss me again. I welcomed it leaning down to meet her, but at the last second she pulled away. That fucking little tease. She pulled back allowing her dress to slide off her arms and down her body, pooling onto the floor leaving her in nothing but her matching red high heels.

My mouth fell open as my eyes took in every inch of her naked body and the way those heels made her legs look fucking beautiful. I could cum at just the thought of nothing being under her dress as her body was pinned to mine all night. I wasn’t sure I could last another minute without my cock filling her.

“Fuck.” I mumbled, finally closing my mouth and reaching my hands out to feel her soft skin.

“You say that a lot.” She giggled, as my hands curved around her body. They traveled up her sides, moving along the underside of her breasts causing her to almost purr. How kitten like of her, I thought as I continued to touch every inch of skin I could. Goosebumps covered her as I did and there were so many things I wanted to do to her, that I wanted her to do to me. But all I really wanted right now was to bury my cock deep inside of her.

“I want to hear you say it now, kitten.” I rasped, tucking her hair behind her ear before planting a soft wet kiss on her lips.

“Get your pretty ass on that bed.” I demanded, looking over her face for any kind of defiance.

She raised her eyebrows, a small flash of excitement lighting her eyes. She bit her lip coyly, trying to push back the smile that was evident on her face. “Yes, daddy.”

If possible, my cock got even harder as she winked at me and did as I asked of her. She climbed on the bed on her hands and knees, her ass up in the air begging me to make it beautifully red. I didn’t give it another thought as I stripped off my clothes and toed off my shoes faster than I’d ever had before, climbing on the bed after her. She squealed as soon as she felt the bed dip, flipping onto her back so I couldn’t grab her glorious ass; the smile I’d grown accustomed to all night on her face.

God, I don't know what this girl was doing to me. Her hair was splayed around her, her lips red and swollen, and her eyes glistening in the darkness. I didn’t like the hold this girl I’d known only a few hours had on me. She smiled, lifting herself up slightly so her mouth could hover over mine. “Careful, keep staring at me like that and I might think you actually like me.”

There was something ominous in the way she said it, like there was something more there that I should catch onto. But I hadn’t noticed her sliding her hand between us until it was wrapped firmly around my cock, leading my thoughts back onto the task at hand. I sighed as she stroked me, her lips so close to mine that I could feel her breath against them. Her pace became a little faster and I could feel her watching me as I revealed in the pleasure that was washing over me. She dragged my tip along her clit, coating it with the precum that had undoubtedly collected on it. I shuddered as she did, the head of my dick already becoming sensitive. I felt her breath hitch against my face as she did it again, somehow simultaneously rubbing my cock at the same time. We both moaned as she pleasured us, her speed quickening.

“You’ll make me cum if you keep going, and I really want to fuck you kitten.” I told her, her once closed eyes flying open to meet mine.

She licked her lips and for the last time caressed my tip down her bundle of nerves, her hips bucking slightly as she did. She kept drawing my cock down until it was positioned over her entrance. I twitched slightly in her hand as she let go of me and mewled as I slowly filled her. She was tight, tighter than anyone I’d ever fucked before. I gave a second to adjust my size before moving again. Her hands instantly clung to her breasts, tweaking at her nipples as I started my tempo. I was kind of jealous as I watched her, wanting my mouth to be what gave her that amount of pleasure.

“Don’t touch them.” I instructed, watching as she looked at me with big pleading doe eyes but she moved her hands anyway. They moved to the bed spread, balling it into her fists. I smiled, feeling the smugness in it. I grabbed her hips, pressing hard into them before thrusting harder into her. She cried out, pulling harder at the bed spread.

“What do you say when I ask you to do something?” I questioned, slamming into her again. She whimpered, biting down on her lip like doing so would prevent her from feeling me as much as she was.

“Y-yes, daddy.”

I know she had to feel the way my cock pulsed at her words. I wasn't one for a daddy kink usually, but when she said it I couldn't resist fucking her hard. I pounded into her fast and hard, profanities spewing shamelessly out of her mouth. I moved my hands to her knees where I then pushed them down until they touched the mattress opening her wider to me. I wanted to cum watching as my length slid in and out of her, her juice making it wet as it did. Her clit was exposed to me now and I released one of my hands from her knee and began rubbing patterns, watching as she almost came undone right there. My pace was unrelenting as I thrusted my hips into hers, my fingers moving swiftly with me.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to cum.” She whined, her eyes shut tightly and her back already starting to arch. When she finally did, her walls tightened around me making her impossibly tighter and forcing my pace to lessen slightly. Her mouth hung open as her breathing shallowed, a look of complete euphoria washing over every one of her features. I kept rubbing her clit until I felt her wall’s grip loosen around me. I didn't stop fucking her though, I slowed fractionally, but otherwise kept descending within her.

“Fuck.” She spat when her high had completely disparated.

“You say that a lot.” I teased, her smile returning.

“Now I want you to say it, daddy.” She cooed, pushing me back so I slid out of her, landing on the bed so that I was sitting. Shakily, she returned to her knees and cat crawled towards me until her mouth was in front of my prick. She kissed the head sweetly before wrapping her hand around it, licking the underside of my tip and making me groan instantly. She kissed it again, before turning her head to the side and licking along the side of my cock. When she got back to my head, she kissed it one last time before wrapping her mouth around it and placing her hands on my shaft. She sunk down taking as much of me as she could, before bobbing back up her hand following behind her. She stroked and bobbed, the two together, setting my skin aflame. She was unbelievably good at this, the way she interchanged between sucking and rubbing was almost enough to make me explode into her mouth. I couldn’t help my hands as they tangled their way into her hair, scraping her scalp as I pushed her further down my cock. I wanted to feel the tight space in the back of her throat. She gagged before she had hit my hilt and I allowed her to pull up before attempting again. The second time she did it, her lips kissing the base of my dick. She held onto my legs as I began fucking her mouth, bringing my climax closer and closer.

I felt her flatten her tongue so that as I thrusted into her mouth, her tongue gliding along the large vein underneath my cock and that was what did it. A second later I was coming into her throat as she hummed deliciously around me.

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow I found myself making out in bed with Little Red Dress, our limbs tangled and sleep falling over us slowly. Girls never spent the night with me. I was very much a hit and quit it kind of guy, but I didn’t want her to leave. Her lips alone had me in a trace and mixed with her alluring personality and her sexy body wrapped around mine, I was a man in trouble.

The last thing I remember before finally letting sleep take me was her snuggling into my chest, the sickly sweet smell in her hair filling my nostrils.

“I like you.” She sighed.

“I like you too, kitten.”

The hotel phone ringing woke me the next morning. The sound was unfamiliar which was why it so easily interrupted my peaceful slumber. I squinted through one eye to check the alarm clock on the night stand next to my bed.

7:05 am

“Are you fucking kidding?” I groaned as the annoying phone continued to squawk at me. There was only one person in the world that would be waking me up this early and I was perfectly content with ignoring him while I had a beautiful girl snoring peacefully next to me. I reached out for her, only to grab a hand full of cold sheets. This made me really wake up as I sat up slightly, looking at the empty bed next to me. I frowned, looking around the room for any sign of her... to no avail.

The phone continued to blare in the background and out of frustration I snatched the phone up. “Hello?”

“Rapp, you lazy son of a bitch. Get your sorry ass up and meet me at St. Mary’s in ten minutes. Or did you forget that you were here on business and not just to get you dick wet?” Stan Hurley’s old gruffly voice boomed from the other line.

“Fuck you.” I groaned, hanging up the phone as Stan spat out profanities and threats.

I looked at the cloak again.

7:12 am

My mind drifted to kitten as I pulled the covers off my naked body. It was uncommon for women to leave without even a goodbye and it didn't bother me much when they did. But I could get her out of my mind as I moved around my hotel room to getting ready. Finally I told myself to shake it off. What were the chances I’d ever see her again. Even so, in a week or two I’d be out of this town and I wouldn't even care that I didn’t know her name. Right?

Stan was waiting for me outside of the church when I pulled up in my taxi. He looked surprisingly nice even for Stan “Hardass” Hurley. Although his tie looked like a five year tied it, I had to hand it to him.

“What the hell took you so long? I said meet me in ten minutes, not an hour!” He yelled at me as soon as I stepped foot out of the cab.

“Give it a rest, Hurley.” I rolled my eyes, walking past him and heading towards the doors.

The old spy quickly caught up with me. “So an old friend of mine is here. Church should be ending soon, we’ll need his help with this hit.”

We pulled open the huge set of doors only to be greater by another pair. We pulled them open quietly so as to not disturb the service going one. I eyed the crowd, trying to pinpoint Hurley’s friend before he pointed him out to me. Unsuccessful, I looked at my partner for help. “Which one is he?”

He didn’t speak, just nodded his head toward the front of the church where a man tall, but slightly out of shape stood from his pew. He walked in front of the altar and began speaking. “That’s him?” I asked incredulously.

“Mark and I go way back.” Hurley laughed quietly.

I frowned at the weird smile that adorned the old man’s face. I looked back at Mark and turned into his speech.

“After the service is the communal picnic and my family and I encourage you all to join.” He gestured forward to the front row pew where he’d just vacated. As if queued, a women, a girl and a young boy all left their spots to join Mark in front of the alter.

I watched the girl intently, something about seeming familiar but I couldn't catch a good look at her face to place her. She was wearing a peplum white dress, her hair straight and long down her back. When she stood next to her father face out toward the church, my face fell. All though thoroughly bare faced and looking much more modest than she had standing naked in front of me. I tried pushing the through from my brain, I didn't need to have a boner in the house of God. She smiled sweetly out at the crowd and if I hadn’t just been pounding into her the night before, I wouldn’t have ever of guess she was anything less than pure.

“Don’t get any ideas, Rapp. Mark’s daughter is the apple of his eye. She may be eighteen but she’s still daddy’s little girl.”

She was daddy’s little girl last night too, I thought as again my dick threatened to harden. But fuck, she was eighteen? How was that even possible when she acted so much more mature than that?

“And she’s the preacher’s daughter, so she wants nothing to do with a low life assassin like you.”

I ignored Stan, reminding myself that shooting him in the house of god might not be the best move. But he did get one thing right, a preacher’s daughter had no business with an assassin.

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writingsbychlo · 8 years ago

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Brother’s Best Friend | Dylan O’Brien

Author: @writingsbychlo

Character(S): Dylan O’Brien/Reader, Brother!Tyler Posey, Daniel Sharman

Word Count: 3153

Notes: Fingering, Oral (female receiving), shower sex, this is much shorter than my usual works - excluding my first two or three works - and it didn’t really take the direction I had originally intended, but it’s cute and I was in a cute mood, let me live. Huge thanks to @stilinski-jpeg for her help on proofreading this. She’s my #SinTwin and I don’t know where I would be without her, I love you, Nia!! We all know how much I love drummer!Dylan so lets go fucking overdrive.

brother’s best friend | dylan o’brien

word count; 3153

summary; your brother tyler doesn’t know that you’re secretly dating his best friend and bandmate, and it’s getting harder to hide.

notes; this is a drummer au, hope y’all love it.

warnings; smut.

“Hey! Can you guys like.. crank it the fuck down?! I can’t even hear myself think!” I shouted, voice being drowned out over the music and I sighed. Tyler’s eyes connected with mine as he flashed me a grin, moving into some crazy dancing as he continued playing and I laughed, the sound once again drifting away as I mimicked him, bursting out on my own crazy air guitar.

The song came to an end and I laughed, the final chords of the base hummed through the speaker cut outs and I walked over to their stacks of refilled water bottles, scanning my hands over the different drinks and picking one up, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

“Hey, princess! That’s mine!” A voice echoed across the room, a drumstick flying towards me as I ducked with a yelp, coughing and spluttering on the drink. The feet belonging to the voice were padding across the room and I hopped up on a counter, drinking the remnants of the drink as his pace picked up, hand slamming down beside my thigh as the other ripped the bottle from my lips. “I said- that’s mine.” He mumbled, face close to mine and a smirk pulling at my lips.

His thumb trailed up, wiping the juice that dropped down my chin, trailing the pad across my lips roughly and he sucked the sickly sweet drink from his finger, humming. “Whoops, I guess I didn’t hear you.” I winked and he growled lowly, hands locking on my knees as he wrenched them apart, stepping between them and placing his hands either side of my hips.

“You little-”

“Dylan. Perimeters from my sister, remember?” Tyler broke through and he sighed, head dropping and he stepped back, hands raised in the air.

“Princess, here, drank my drink! Why shouldn’t I be in her face?”

“Because you were standing a lot closer than in her face, and Danny here gets jealous.” He teased, the boy beside him shouting in protest as the two broke out in wrestling.

“Yeah, well, that’s his problem! She belongs to me too!” He shouted, grumbling as he took his seat on his stool again, having retrieved the drumstick he’d used as a weapon and he tapped out a basic tune as I watched him, jaw dropped. Wandering through from the garage to the kitchen, I grabbed a fresh bottle from the fridge, returning to the ‘man-cave’ and making my way over to my favoured drummer.

“I got you a new drink.” I murmured, lips beside his ear and he leaned back, head resting on my shoulder as he took it from me. I let my hands smooth over his shoulders and down his chest, rubbing lightly as he drank, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks, princess.” He whispered. Letting his head turn to the side slightly, his brown eyes meeting mine and I smiled, pulling back to ensure Tyler wasn’t watching, or Daniel. “I haven’t kissed you in like.. three weeks.” He muttered, eyes locking on my lips and I subconsciously let my tongue run over them.

“Don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” I grinned, pulling my lips between my teeth, somewhat sadly.

“I miss you, princess, why can’t we tell him?” He asked and I sighed, my stomach twisting as I glanced over at my brother and his friend, now tuning each other’s guitars and testing chords.

“Because you know how he acts. He got so angry over my last boyfriend, can you imagine how he’d feel if he found out his best friend was fucking his little sister?” I took a seat on the couch in the corner of the room as he made his way over, swinging my legs over his lap as his hand ran along my calf.

“But.. it’s not just fucking, right? It’s not just sex to you, because.. I-”

“Hey, Dyl, you ready to get back to it?” The thick accented voice cut through the air and our bubble popped, eyes leaving mine and the space between us cooled, the air no long crackling. He nodded, swallowing thickly without glancing back to me as he left and I watched him go, eventually leaving with a mumble of a goodbye and I shut the door, loud sound filling the house.

“Hey, hey, baby sister! Who’re ya’ texting?” Tyler offered, fingers prodding at my sides as I jumped, writhing as he tickled me and chuckled, the other two boys taking a seat at the table.

“Um.. some guys called Henry. I think.” I laughed and his eyebrows raised as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossing.

“Henry? And who would that be? You’re too young to date. I don’t approve.”

“I’m one year younger than you. One. And I’m seventeen, for Christ’s sake. And he’s just my lab partner anyway.” I sighed, running a hand over my face as I clicked my phone off, an unsatisfied growl sounding across the table and I looked over, but the eyes I was hoping to meet refused to look up.

“Whatever, Danny and Dyl are staying over tonight, and we ordered pizza, do you wanna watch a film with us?”

“I really don’t want to watch fast and furious again.” I declined, chairs scraping back as the band of boys stood.

“Your loss! Let’s goooo!” My brothers voice echoed and they traipsed out, my fingers wrapping around a pale wrist and he stopped, turning back to me as I stood.

I pulled him back from the view of the doorway, hand tight in the material of shirt as I sat on the high chairs of the kitchen counter, pulling his lips to mine. He hummed slightly, hands finding my hips as he tugged me closer to the edge, standing between my thighs and nipping my bottom lip.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” His forehead rested against mine, my hands looped around his neck and his eyelashes tickled my cheek, nose bumping mine to the side as we shared the small amount of air between us.

“I missed you too.” I smiled, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck as his traced patterns on the skin beneath the hem of my shirt. His lips moved down my neck, teeth biting at my collarbone as he licked over the area, careful not to leave any marks.

“I don’t care if he hits me, I don’t care if he never speaks to me again, I just don’t care anymore. I want to tell him.” He began and my eyes opened as I sighed, meeting his and he had a pleasing look on his face. “Please.. I want to be able to come up to you at school and kiss you against the lockers like all the other gross couples and I want to be able to threaten Henry and your other stupid lab partners, because I have a reason. I want to be able to have you sit on my lap during lunch times and be able to kiss your neck softly and have my arms around your waist. I want all that stupid, cheesy shit, and I want it with my best friends sister. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care.. because, I think I lo-”

“Dyl! Come on, man! You’re missing the intro!” A voice echoed through and he cursed, stepping back and looking smiling his beautiful smile sadly as he left the room.

I ended up crashing and watching the film with them, for the umpteenth time and I couldn’t help but not concentrate. Every five minutes my eyes roamed over the boy across the room from me.

He wasn’t the only one.

It wasn’t like I’d never thought about nights like this, but instead of sitting across the room from each other and sneaking stolen glances, instead being able to squeeze into the seat beside him, legs slung across his lap and placing kisses on his jaw.

Or, being able to kiss him against his car each morning despite the fact that I he needed to get to the other side of campus for registration. I wanted to be able to go out with him on public, go on dates to cinemas and fairs without having to pretend it was just a group of friends hanging out with my brother and Daniel there too.

His eyes met mine and he cleared his throat, snapping me from my staring and tilting his head towards Tyler, whose eyebrows were furrowed as he raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. I shook my head, snapping my attention back to the screen, focusing on the movie in front of me, the credits rolling across the screen and I realised I’d been so zoned out it had ended and then Tyler would’ve turned to me.

“The pizza isn’t here, it’s been like two hours.” I tried and his attention was entirely diverted from my staring as he jumped to his feet.

“I knew something was up, thanks lil’ one!” He beamed, ruffling my hair and swinging past, scooping up his wallet and Dylan’s car keys. “I’ll just go and buy it, who’s coming with me?” Daniel stood and I shot a look at Dylan as he sank back to his seat, scratching the back of his neck. Tyler, now too busy with the pizza waves goodbye as he left the house, letting it drop to an awkward silence as Dylan glanced around the room, my eyes locked on him.

“Are you mad at me?” I questioned after a while and he let his eyes slowly move to me, getting to his feet and making his way over, taking the seat beside me, fingers lacing with mine as his eyes followed the patterns his thumb was tracing on my knuckles.

“No.”

“Then why are you ignoring me. Normally you’d jump at the prospect of them being out, for what is going to be at least an hour with the amount of food they buy, may I add.” I chuckled lightly but he was unresolved, head still down and I lifted his chin between my fingers, pressing my lips to his. His pushed back, eagerly and his body towered over mine as he pressed me back into the couch,

“Because it hurts.” He whispered against my lips and my heart sunk, stomach tightening into knots and his body was tense. He sunk back, hand lacing with mine and he bit his lip during my silence, taking a deep breath before turning to me with the most sincere smile he could. “Hey, it’s like you said, we still have at least forty-five minutes until they come back, so let’s go and take a shower.” He winked, pulling me from my position and slamming his lips into mine hands sliding around my waist and into the back pockets of my shorts. “God, I love it when your parents go away.”

I tugged on his top in a frenzy as his hands burned on my waist, pushing me up the stairs with his lips on my shoulder, kissing and barrelling through the doorway into the bathroom. The door was soon slammed shut again and I was pinned against it, legs hung loosely around his waist as his crotch ground into mine, his teeth biting along my shoulder and his name rolling from my tongue.

“Jesus Dyl.” I whimpered and I could feel his smirk pressed against my skin. He turned us around, sitting me on the counter as he pulled his shirt off, fingers looping under the material of my tank-top as he pulled that up too dropping it to the floor. I lifted myself up as he peeled my shorts down my legs.

“Really princess, no bra or panties? Fuck, you’re so hot.” He choked out, fingers swirling through my wet folds as my hips bucked up. He trailed kisses along my skin, lowering to his knees and pulling me to the edge of the counter, swinging my legs over his shoulder as he kitten licked across my folds, tongue dipping into my entrance teasingly and my hands laced in his hair, back arching.

“Please, Dylan.” He complied, finger pushing into my entrance, lips locking around my clit as he sucked harshly and I cried out, whimpering at the feeling after so long. He slipped another finger into my heat, curling them softly and stroking against all the spot only he knew drove me wild.

“So tight, princess, you have no idea how much I missed this pretty pussy. Just for me.” He hummed, letting his tongue trailed back up my body as a shiver ran along my skin, his lips meeting mine again, the taste of myself still on his tongue as he pushed me over the edge. I clenched around his fingers, movements unrelenting as he dragged out my high and I sighed, leaning back against the wall behind me as he pushed his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them with a wink. “We didn’t even make it to the shower this time.” He grinned and I shook my head.

I pushed myself from the counter, landing on shaky legs and his hands found my hips, a proud smirk on his face but a caring look shining in his eyes. I turned on the shower, water gushing from the machine as I tested it until finding the right temperature. Steam filled the room and I sighed, holding my hand out for the boy as he took it, stepping in after me and wrapping his arms around my waist, lips trailing along my neck.

He sunk to the basin of the bath, taking me with him as I straddled him and he sighed into my mouth, the head of his cock brushing through my folds as he whimpered, hips jerking up. I pumped him lightly, lining up and sinking down onto him, hips rolling lightly as one of his hands held him up, the other guiding my pace.

His face was buried in my neck and I swept the wet locks aside his lips instantly attaching to the skin and he groaned, hips rolling up to meet mine as water flowed down around. “I wanna mark my princess. Show everyone who her prince is.” He spoke aloud against my skin and my heart leapt, my hand tugging on his wet hair as I pulled his head back carefully, lips meeting his in a passionate kiss, my mind hazy and my body electrified.

“Do it.” As soon as the words left my lips, he got to work, sucking a large purple mark into my skin and the feeling catapulted me over the edge. I clenched around him and his growls and grunts harmonised with my moans as he rode out our highs, back falling back against the cold metal of the shower, and I rolled to the side, letting the water wash away the layer of sweat that had built up. “That was so hot.”

“Yeah, princess, it was.” He agreed, voice somewhat empty as he sat up, pulling me to my feet to match him and he squeezed out some shampoo, rubbing it into my hair softly and running his fingers through the tips. “We should be quick, they’ll be back soon.” He prompted and I nodded.

“You go ahead, I’m gonna stay in for a bit.” I smiled and he nodded, leaving without another word and I let my head fall back against the cold tile, trying to think what to do, to fix a problem I’d unintentionally caused, one that was hurting both of us.

By the time I’d gotten out of the shower, and delayed what seemed like a very stupid idea with every possible task I could, I stepped into the corridor. By now, Dylan was all set with his foldout bed on the couch, Daniel in the guest room and they were watching football in the living room.

I peeped around the door, Dylan was tucked up in his covers, looking adorable and his eyes were staring at the screen, but his mind was elsewhere. My brother and their other friend were far too busy watching the football to notice anything and I took a deep breath, stepping into the room and clicking the door shut. The only pair of eyes I wanted on me snapped to me and the honey-brown eyes widened, the eyebrows above furrowing as if to question what I was doing and I padded across the room towards him.

He sat up slightly, clearly intending to ask what was wrong and I leaned across the makeshift bed, kissing his lips softly in a peck before picking up the edge of the blanket, settling beneath them before curling into his side, his arm wrapping around me loosely as he lay back down, face next to mine on the pillow.

“What are you doing? Your brother is literally right there! Are you insa-” I moved forwards, my lips meeting his again and he hummed, his body relaxing as he rolled forwards, tugging my hips until our bodies met.

“What the fuck?” My lips were ripped from his as my body was pulled from the bed and I yelped, landing in the floor as Tyler looked down to me, and back up to Dylan. “I’m gonna’ fucking kill you, man.”

“Shit, no, she came to me! I swear!” Dylan rambled, pushing his way up the bed as Tyler, growled, launching as him as the pair rolled to the floor on the other side, and I placed a hand on my brother’s shoulder, his head turning to me as a look I couldn’t quite decipher flared in his eyes and his jaw was clenched.

“Ty, don’t!”

“He’s using you! What if he hurts you?”

“He won’t! I-” I choked, my breath catching in my throat as I looked down at the scruffy-haired, mole-freckled boy panting on the floor.

“You what?!”

“I love him.” I sighed and his face softened, his attention turning solely to Dylan as his hands wrapped in the collar of his shirt, but despite the shaking my brother was giving him, the spitting of his name in his face, his eyes were locked on mine and it was like we had created the bubble again, one of his hands reaching up to lace with mine.

“I love you too, princess.” He grinned lopsidedly and I dropped to my knees softly, a hand cupping his cheek as I brought his lips to mine, a cough sounding beside us. I growled, placing a hand over Tyler’s face and pushing him aside, soon returning it to the boys shoulder. He pulled away, a smile taking over his features, that reached his eyes and that was sincere. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“You better not! I’m watching you, man!” Tyler shouted and I sighed, laughing as my forehead hit the boy’s shoulder.

#dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien smut #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien x reader fluff #Dylan obrien/reader #Dylan obrien/reader smut

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blogmitchcarmody · 5 years ago

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Free image/jpeg, Resolution: 551×682, File size: 144Kb, Winnie The Pooh Characters Eeyore

Surviving A Pandemic in the 100 Acre Wood

A long time ago in the exact geographic center of the North American continent a very extraordinary thing happened. One simple innocent moment in time, one split second decision that changed the world forever and has blessed us all for generations to come.

An English soldier stationed in Manitoba Canada was traveling to London at the advent of WWI. While in the train station in Winnipeg he spied a trapper trying to sell a small brown bear cub in a cage. The bear looked hungry and helpless, so he bought it and it traveled with him across the country and soon became a mascot for his troop of soldiers. When reaching London his troop was dispatched to the front lines in France. The soldier had named the bear Winnie after the city of Winnipeg and donated him to the London zoo in 1919.

London writer A.A. Milne author of children’s books often visited the zoo with his young son Christopher to see Winnie. Young Christopher was even allowed into the cage with the docile and friendly bear. Christopher adored the bear and named him Winnie the Pooh. The name Pooh was taken from the main character in one of his Dad’s book, Poo the swan. The name of a “good friend”. Winnie the good friend bear.

Later Christopher acquired stuffed animals over a course of several years and ” The 100 Acre Wood” was truly born; several years later his fathered penned Winnie the Pooh.

I find it amazing that one of the worlds most beloved, and enduring characters in fictional writing is based on a true story. Mr. Milne today would be in jail for child endangerment, as well as pending charges on cruelty to animals while facing extradition to Canada for illegal abduction and transportation of an endangered species. He may have eventually written a book from his jail cell, but it clearly would not have been the same.

The very real story soon became a lovely children’s book, eventually picked up by Disney where it spread faster than herpes at Woodstock; soon hitting every corner of the civilized world. Winnie became a worldwide celebrity overnight.

Why is that? Because good news travels fast. Subliminal good news travels faster than a virus. Metaphor is understood subliminally whether we are cognitive or not of its applications for our life. The characters, the stories, the nuggets of wisdom Milne created in his children’s-book classic has never been more important, and more needed than ever before. Not just for our children, but for our village, each one of us has our own village, our own 100 Acre Wood, our own refuge, our own tapestry of relationships and the matrix of support for our mutual survival.

Without realizing it Milne created fictional characters that reflect the 5 basic archetypal phenotypes of our global village. Personality is created by the morphism of genetic predisposition, epigenetic expression and neural plasticity from persistent environmental cues. We have a basic personality type that is our dominant or built in default mechanism from genetic predisposition combined from our parents from the pairing of 23 chromosomes each, combined which defines our physicality and our tics. Less than .1% of our total DNA defines our uniqueness. We are 99.9 % all the same DNA, but that small percent in conjunction with our environment creates our dominant personality for survival.

We inherit most of our personality traits that we can doing nothing about, but it does change/fluctuate with our environment and our awareness. Universally we have 5 distinct personality types known as the big 5. The Five Factor Model of personality traits suggests that individual differences in levels personality traits (neuroticism, extraversion, openness to experience, agreeableness, and conscientiousness) are present from a young age.

In working with those who grieve for over 30 years I have seen how important it is to be aware of one’s dominant personality when inheriting a grief journey, one does not expect or anticipate. When we are caught by surprise we default to our strong suit, our dominant character of survival. When a bilingual person is angered, in great pain or fear they always scream out in their native tongue, it’s their ingrained default. In grief we default to the depth of our experience in loss. We may be clueless and toolless, but some survival mechanism kicks in that we were born with. Which one that is, will be one of, or a combination of the big five to stay alive.

A person can take any personality test, but they all boil down to the big five. One does not need to look any further than reading Winnie the Pooh and looking closely at the 5 main characters to see how they reflect the big five. Find which character you are in the 100 Acre wood and you will have found your strong suit, your default to survive. Take a close self-assessment/personal inventory of yourself and you will find you are at times many of the characters, but one really bespeaks of how you engage socially; that is your personality you need and use for survival.

In processing grief, facing trauma or daunting social engagement we draw our character strengths automatically, its in our nature. We also have mirror neurons that allow us to feel emotions that others are exhibiting simply by witnessing the non-verbal cues they express in their communications, which is also in our nature. We are all villagers of the same global village, are hard wired for empathy, compassion and cooperation. It is fear that interferes with that innate understanding

We as humans are born with only two innate fears: the fear of loud noises & the fear of falling, all other fears are manufactured by our experiences. If you are bitten by a snake as a child, you will fear snakes. We fear darkness because we may fall. When there is no light there will be fear. We fear sudden loud noises; it is our fight or flight response when taken by surprise. When we are taken by surprise or caught in the dark there will be fear. Both are innate.

Light dispels fear in darkness, education dispels fear of falling (being taken by surprise). Create the light and seek knowledge, that is wisdom.

When we know who we are as a person; we are armed by our own assets. We are born as one complete human being, body (animal), mind (intellect), spirit (avatar of animation) and soul, the arbiter for the journey to not only survive but to thrive. Animals can survive but only humans can conceive of choices to thrive. The footprint we leave behind created by the choices we make. Our bodies may die but our choices do not. Acknowledge and empower the strong suit you were born with, recognize what is in your nature. Listen to your body, listen to your intellect, listen to your higher power, make your best decision from the input from all three -in all things. The Latin phrase “nosce te ipsum” means: Know Yourself. Know yourself, be yourself, be your best asset.

Part 2 -Assessment:

How do you relate to people whether at home, work, or play? How do you engage with people most of the time? How do you represent yourself; how do you survive? This is important to knowledge to have when we are in survival mode. How we can survive and mitigate the spread of Covid-19 pandemic? We must arm ourselves. We are at war with a microscopic alien that is intent on weeding out as much of the world’s very old, its infirm, its weak, the homeless and the destitute. A science fiction novel has become reality.

We need to empower ourselves to fight this alien attack. P.O.W.ER. is an acronym for the 5 major characters from Milne’s classic Winnie the Pooh: Piglet, Owl, Winnie, Eeyore and Rabbit. We are composed of traits from all these colorful and diverse characters built in to one dynamic individual; a personal operating system that we are born with. We are a plethora of human qualities and characteristics that personifies how we act and how we are perceived by others. It provides us our basic personality with its assets and its flaws. It fluctuates with our environment, education and experiences as we try to maintain equilibrium in an unbalanced and ever-changing world. In theory we are an amalgamation of all the characters, but in practice we draw to the strong suit that we are born with. This is especially true when engaging with others from a place of fear and trauma or extreme courage.

So, who are you in the hundred Acre Wood?

Piglet

Piglet is an extrovert and one who craves/needs to hug and to be hugged. He/she find the pandemic social restrictions are very frustrating and personal space social distancing almost painful.

Piglet is a person who is open to experience; one who is passionate, inventive, and curious, with an appreciation for art, emotion, adventure, unusual ideas, and variety of experiences. This person is imaginative, highly independent and depicts a personal preference for a variety of activities over a strict routine with a proclivity for novelty. Piglet can be perceived as unpredictability or having a lack of focus. Moreover, they may seek out intense, euphoric experiences, such as skydiving, living abroad, gambling, et cetera.

Piglets have a general appreciation for beauty and willing to try new things. They tend to be, (when compared to others) more creative and more aware of their feelings. They think more abstractly and are more likely to hold unconventional beliefs. They can be politically active and a champion for racial intolerance and equality. Piglets may start many projects at once; change jobs/frequently or start new careers. Some people may perceive them to have a low attention span, scattered and searching, but regardless they are all about heart. Piglets love to hug, piglets lighten up a room with their energy; they are magnanimous by nature

Owl

Owl is an introvert. Owl is researching, reading daily, downloading and graphing statistics on the disease; Owl purchased sanitizer and TP for a month the day after the Corona virus was announced in Wuhan China. Quarantine has already been in place for years.

Owl is a person with a tendency to show self-discipline, act dutifully, and aim for achievement against measures or other’s expectations. Owls are in control of how they regulate and direct their impulses and emotions. Owls are quiet, studious and take much pride in academic achievement; often writers and/or teachers. Owls maintain a low profile and stay under the radar.

Owls are highly organized and dependable, establish and maintain routines. Owls prefer planned rather than spontaneous behavior and may be perceived as stubborn and resistant to change; Owls may be obsessive in certain personal routines. Although perceived slow to change, they are wise and think before they speak. They are extremely adaptive once they have processed facts to their conclusion. Owls are steady as she goes and very resourceful in chaos and possess many survival skills. Owls love alone time; still waters run deep; Owls are always good counsel.

Winnie

Winnie is an omnivert exhibiting both introvert/extravert characteristics that thrives on routine. During the crisis Winnie is still visiting friends, going to work the exact same time etc. but is extremely frustrated not going to his/her daily stool at Starbucks at 8:45 am on the way to work.

Winnie loves social harmony and highly values getting along with others. They are generally considerate, kind, generous, trusting and trustworthy, helpful, and willing to compromise their interests with other. Winnies have an altruistic and affable nature and have an optimistic view of human nature and people in general.

Winnie’s nature of agreeableness positively correlates with the quality of relationships with one’s team members or in any social engagement. Winnies also possess transformational leadership skill; they shine by example. They tend to have many friends and make few enemies. Winnie is compassionate and cooperative rather than suspicious and antagonistic. Winnies stay steadfast and hold firm in their convictions; they are comfortable in their own skin. Winnies have a trusting and helpful nature, and what may be naive or submissive is in fact the power of their own vulnerability and probably the most resilient in the face of trauma. Winnies want/need to make a positive difference and usually do.

Eeyore is an introvert and he/she expected the virus would come and that he/she thinks they will most assuredly become a casualty. Eeyore thinks he/she has probably has already got the virus and has spread it everywhere and will quarantine easily but frustrated having no one complain to about getting “ it “ but would give you extra TP if you needed it.

Eeyores tend to experience negative emotions, such as anger, anxiety, or depression. Often, they are emotionally reactive and vulnerable to stress and may complain a lot. They are more likely to interpret ordinary situations as threatening, and minor frustrations as hopelessly difficult. Their negative emotional reactions can persist for long periods of time and they may appear to be in a bad mood or have mood swings.

Eeyores want to stay in the background, they have a desire to help and be of service but often too shy to step forward. Often come to work early and leave late. Always sees projects and tasks to their end and fruition. Dots his I’s and crosses her T’s; always keeping deadlines. Eeyores love to be designated for a task as opposed to volunteering. Eeyores tend to be calm, collected and relaxed in most situations. Eeyores do not like to take a leadership role or speak in public but excel as a major support person in the background. Eeyore is a steadfast friend and that person who would literally give you the shirt off his/her back or give you a ride home. Eeyores may be complex but are dedicated and trustworthy; people love Eeyore.

Rabbit

Rabbits are obvious extroverts who are championing the war on Covid-19 wherever they can. They are Organizing food/water/ masks for the needy, creating websites and ad hoc support groups, volunteering for public health militias, manning tents and putting up posters. Most are already in jobs that require their presence during the crisis. Rabbits are invaluable during a pandemic.

Rabbits are characterized by high energy with a breadth of activities and have a profound ability to easily engage with the external world easily. Rabbits enjoy interacting with people, and are often perceived as High Energy or Type A. They tend to be enthusiastic, action-oriented individuals. They possess high group visibility; very talkative they like to assert themselves and may provide their opinion unsolicited. They like to take leadership roles.

Rabbits are extraverted, outgoing and energetic and often over-achievers. Filled with positive energy and emotions, they have a tendency for surgency, immediacy and assertiveness. They are highly sociable and seek stimulation in the company of others. Rabbits are talkative by nature and can be perceived as attention-seeking and domineering. Some may consider rabbits to be to be pushy, intolerant and labeled control freaks but regardless they are always there when you need them; they are invaluable in an organization or group for it to be effective. Rabbits are multi-taskers at heart and are great organizers

Summary

It is very likely you will know someone who has been exposed the virus in your family, friends, neighbors and workmates. It is also very likely someone may die from the virus in your community. Whether navigating the waters of uncertain times or navigating your personal trauma/grief journey, draw to your strong suit.

It is highly unlikely that you will be one character alone but rather two or three characters will be prominent and two or three will be less prominent. Which character you resonate with most is likely the most prominent character of your personality.

What is important is to take inventory of ourselves to promote our self-worth and gain confidence in what we can provide and honesty in what we cannot. We must strive to take advantage of our natural strengths and work on our shortcomings.

During this global pandemic crisis:

Be yourself. Be honest. Be your best. Be kind. Express gratitude. Show respect. Wash your hands often.

Be your Winnie, use your Piglet, depend on your Owl, express your Eeyore, energize your Rabbit and remember what Christopher Robin said to Pooh:

“You are Braver than you believe, Stronger than you seem and Smarter than you think”

To take test, go to: Free download for the P.O.W.E.R. Personality quiz at www.heartlightstudios.com

Surviving A Pandemic in the 100 Acre Wood Surviving A Pandemic in the 100 Acre Wood A long time ago in the exact geographic center of the North American continent a very extraordinary thing happened.

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