#Probe pack shows the use of different colours

[green-alien-turdz]

i want you to go over each and every small character detail you add and explain i love your mind and your art dude no homo

Okay, here we go

STAN: Peace sign pin on his hat n sometimes wears preachy shirts about environmentalism bcuz he's an ecofag. He has faint old scars on his arms n thighs cuz he used to cut. He's often covered in bruises bcuz the CD shows are tightly packed n he will inevitably get hit at least once.

KENNY: Covered in shit load of scars bcuz dead as hell. He's missin a visible top tooth bcuz it got cracked as shit n asked the gang to pull it out for him, which they very poorly did. While he doesn't care about havin nice clothes, he likes comedy shirts bcuz he'll lose his mind if he can't make someone at least chuckle.

CARTMAN: Stretch marks bcuz he a big bitch. His hair is the exact same bcuz he got so used to it as a kid n now has anxiety about changin it (he will never admit this). He also likes wearin funny shirts bcuz Kenny got him goin on that. Bro also wears tight or more showin clothin when he feels cuz he couldn't give less of a shit about how other view his body.

KYLE: Mouth scars from Human Centipad (he just kinda ignores the scars now. He couldn't come to terms with them, so he just numbed himself to them), sh scars bcuz that bitch ain't well. Jewfro in full bloom as he just doesn't care n he REALLY needs to take better care of it bcuz it's so matted. CD shirt 95% of the time bcuz it's like his #1 comfort item.

MARJORINE (or Butters if we're goin by show name): She keeps her hair at that very specific length bcuz it's long enough to where she feels more feminine, but short enough to where her parents don't suspect anything (but gettin allowed to grow it that long took a lot of convincing). He eye left eye is scarred n not able to move much due to the throwin star incident (she is blind in that eye). She does have old sh scars from middle school when she had to come to terms with bein trans n she was extremely confused n conflicted about all of it. She likes wearin skirts bcuz it makes her feel more feminine, but has to get dressed once out in public, so it's somethin she can quickly get on and off if need be.

IKE: Long hair/mullet adjacent bcuz he is just likin the look right now n after Sheila made him keep his hair short for majority of his childhood, he's just kinda feelin out different things. I gave him freckles bcuz in Cartman Get's an Anal Probe, Kyle calls him a 'freckly kid'. Bro got them glasses bcuz he grew up on the computer. His front tooth is cracked n brown bcuz he n Kyle were wrestlin n Ike hit a table. And while it's not completely uncommon for people to start growin facial hair in middle school, Ike started to bcuz Canadians hit puberty earlier.

KAREN: She has a birth mark on the left side of her face (did this in placement for the weird maybe dirt stain she has in the show). Her hair is long n all over the place bcuz she doesn't really brush her hair (you can blame Kenny for the influence) n she cuts it herself but is not too great at layering. Growin up impoverished n around the ideologies that Stan n CD always talks about made her rather angry in the sphere of politics n human rights, so she is very vocal about her opinions of the shit she sees (which is why she always writes shit on her clothes). She can also sometimes be seen wearin a rasta coloured beanie, which was Kevin's before he died.

CRAIG: Usually wearin his work hoodie (Fagoccini's Pizzaria) bcuz mf doesn't care to put in effort outside of that seein as he works so much. Bro wears a similar hat to the one he did as a kid bcuz it brought him a lot of comfort, n now that his hairline is recedin n he's baldin a lil bit at 18, he wears it bcuz he's a lil insecure. He doesn't give a shit that his teeth a crooked n gapped cuz it doesn't effect shit, but he does have a bit of an underbite that pisses him off bcuz he swears up n down that's what makes his voice sound so nasally.

TWEEK: Hair all fuckin wild bcuz he cuts it himself, n loses patience quickly n starts choppin. He also has white streaks in his hair which started appearing after his parents got arrested n durin his very long detox (from the stress of the info and on his body cuz of the dependency). He's got scratches all over his face n body from stress scratchin, meltdowns, n a few mishaps here n there. Bro also got sh scars bcuz bro got a lotta shit that went down n his brain chemistry is FUCKED.

WENDY: She cuts her hair short bcuz she wants to have a more androgynous appearance, but is still very confident with bein feminine n shit like that. When she started to become more human rights n social justice oriented, she started to get into boxing (as well as wrestling in school). She thought it would be a good to know how to fight if it came down to it. Plus she could already kick ass before, n she just thought it would be best to hone that ability.

BEBE: Started changin quite a bit after she had a whole moment of thinkin that she would turn out exactly like her mom (she has nothin wrong with her, just doesn't want that life). While she's still into things like cheer, she also started lookin into things that weren't what she was used to. She ended up findin Pink Flamingos, n became obsessed with Divine ever since. She dyes her cuz she feels better with it. n while she still does her makeup conventionally, she likes doin a more dark colour palet.

CLYDE: He's just Clyde. Dude's appearance didn't change that much bcuz he didn't change much. Some mfs just kinda be like that.

TOLKEIN: His mom suggested he try different hairstyles to be more connected with his culture bcuz he was havin a moment where he felt a lil blah bein the only Black dude his age in the area. He doesn't do upkeep as much as he should though, so things are a lil messy, but he doesn't see a problem as workin on the farm makes everythin messy so much faster anyway.

JIMMY: Bro just dresses casually. He doesn't really care about clothes or shit bcuz he can get people's attention with his comedy. Ladies man as fuck

HENRIETTA: Always has the best outfits bcuz she got into sewin so that she could start makin shit that she specifically wanted. She has a few tattoos- some are stick n pokes she did with her friends, others her mom signed off on when she was still under 18. She tries to ward people off with her makeup, which works rather well in South Park. She has both old sh scars from her emo moment (where she was just doin it cuz that's what she was told emo's did), n ones from later on where she was just feelin super empty n couldn't find a way to romanticize it like done previously.

FIRKLE: He's still in middle school so he doesn't go AS out there with his fashion bcuz he doesn't have the in-school support of his friends anymore. But still does dramatic makeup which he gets in trouble for all the time.

MICHAEL: Simple clothes that he's comfortable in, but not so simple that he feels like he's conforming. Pierced his ears up n down bcuz he was told he couldn't. Pierced his own eyebrow 3 different times bcuz it keeps growin out. Knee brace due to arthritis, unfortunately. A shit load of sh scars bcuz he always tries to act so stoic n unbothered around everyone else, that it led to him breaking down all the time in private bcuz he wasn't allowin himself to feel things.

/\ They have a matchin stick n poke 'nevermore' tattoo bcuz they thought it'd be pretty dope n they wanted to connect themselves with eachother via blood usin the same needle (don't do that, it's not great to get other people's blood in ya) \/

PETE: Dude's mom is extremely supportive of him bein goth, so much so that she was the one dyin his hair as a kid bcuz he asked. He has a very specific style that he likes n sometimes he goes through his grandpa's old shit to find stuff to wear (usually altering it to be more dark in appearance).

(There are others I have designs for, but bcuz I haven't posted them much, imma just stop here.)

Enjoy this fuckin novel, bro. Thank you. And I'm sorry, but I'm a full homo kind of guy

[lukman112blog-blog]

Individual Workbook

The value of smart city relates to the creation of data that can be used to monitor, measure and manage urban life by making use of information in order to support with decision-making, anticipating and resolving problems while coordinating resources accordingly to help benefit the wider society (Shelton et al. 2014). The Superflux video about Luka, the Wifi Dog (Luka, the Wifi Dog, 2011) broadened my understanding of what smart city involves and how it can be utilized to provide opportunities for interactions and engagement amongst people within a society. For instance, the video offers an insight into a smarty city project in its early stages of development that looks into integrating pet animals with networked technologies as a way of enhancing the functionality of real pets through inserting a networked wifi microchip under the skin which therefore creates opportunities for personal hotspot, storing data and providing podcasts whereby a remote control can be used to identify and examine the data of a pet as well as having the data shared with other users.

As an initial step towards exploring and re imagining the design process for the smart city, I proposed four different design ideas which I thought were useful concepts, two of which I placed a great deal of emphasis into are augmented reality smart glasses of a specific brand that covers a number of applications and allows users to visually see and interact with their surroundings and a database environment which allows a user to store digital resources and materials via an app or data centre that can be shared with and be useful for other users. This can be educational related resources, health tips, game related tips, navigation, etc which can be accessed by other users within the database environment via an app or data centre.

The next objective towards progressing and realizing an ideal smart city that can benefit the wider society involved deciding on a theme to choose for the smart city which focused within the area of well-being and environment and therefore proposing further ideas based on that chosen theme. I had to think about the usefulness and why it matters, the past, how things were evolving and what can be done, how lives and the environment around us can transform, and lastly how each idea can evolve throughout the project while taking into consideration Critical Fabulation by Daniela Roser. Aside from the three different design ideas that I proposed, the fourth idea introduced by a group member had been expanded with reference to Critical Fabulation in order to understand design more broadly and reflecting on the example of weaving as a basis for storytelling to create a new approach for design by looking into alternative histories (Roser 2018).

For instance, the importance of trees ties back to the past and stories in which for centuries, tree lovers have planted and nurtured trees of all types including; elms, oaks, ginkgoes, magnolias, apples and spruces. However, tree lovers quickly learnt that certain individuals such as politicians see little value in trees and considering it as merely a useful resource solely for the purpose of producing board timbers while rejecting all other benefits that a tree may provide. Moving onto the early 2003, a group of individuals developed a free software suite known as i-Tree aimed at city foresters, urban planners and non-profit tree groups with the intention of quantifying the benefits and values of trees around the world. By 2006, a detailed report suggests that New York City’s 592,000 street trees ensured better energy savings, decrease in air pollution and reduction in storm water (Jonnes 2011).

As part of the design process, a probe pack had been used which involved designing a phone usage sheet indicating the types of activities that I engage with while using my Smartphone throughout the day at different periods of time as well as the frequency rate of Smartphone being used as shown below. The practice of using the probe pack required plotting the time that I have spent on the Smartphone into the phone usage sheet which indicates a variety of colours shaded in order to represent different activities showing high level of engagement in comparison to low level of engagement. Identifying the patterns shown in the phone activities sheet had informed me about the most popular activities as opposed to the least popular activities that I engage in while using my Smartphone which supported my creative thinking towards knowing what people may want as the sole purpose of this technique is to better understand the behavioural patterns of people in a park environment including the motives and intention as to why they use their Smartphone when visiting a park.   

Incorporating a probe pack into the design approach with the objective of promoting creativity had proved to be valuable in exploring the design space. The use of the probe pack was part of a strategy for pursuing experimental design in a responsive way which addressed uncertainty about a common occurrence that had been observed in the parks where visitors were seen interacting with their Smartphone’s while sat at the bench or walking across the pavement and therefore understanding this concern was necessary in order to familiarize with the design space as although the probe pack did not directly lead to changes in design, it however stimulated thinking into other aspects of technology that can be included within the smart city(Gaver, Dunne & Pacenti 1999).

[aravas-writing]

(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

[romewritingshop]

I’m a Dad

Fandom: Choices, Open Heart, AU

Relationship: Dr. Ethan Ramsey X F!MC (Name: Alyssa Brooks)

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of birth complications, Alan is okay no need to panic 😅, anxieties of fatherhood, slight injury (nothing gruesome).

Rating: 12+ Word Count Total: 3209

AN: This is a birthday commission for @tsrookie who wanted a fic of dad!Ethan. I hope this is what you wanted and enjoy. The song that inspired this was Michele Morrone’s Dad (Accoustic Version):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cDNO--sPgE

I wanted to portray the significance of Alan in Ethan and Alyssa’s lives. It was emotional writing this 🥺.

Rome’s Birthday Celebration Masterlist 2021

CHOICES MASTERLIST

Tagged: @eleanorbloom @juliafranquet @me-and-my-choices @drethanramslay @choicesficwriterscreations @queencarb @miss-smrxtiee @melaninnntae @they-callme-ami @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @drariellevalentine @nikki-2406 @caseyvalentineramsey @kiara-36 @choicesreal @sophxwithers @brightningstar @tsrookie @gryffindordaughterofathena @arnikki-2406 @mercury84choices ​@theinvisibledreamergirl @stygianflood @ethansramsey

A blissful silence settled in the room as Ethan tossed his house keys onto the kitchen countertop. Flicking the switches as the lights turned on in his house. A large suburban white painted house that he and Alyssa bought a few years ago. Ethan’s eyes wandered around the living room, taking in the quiet. Alyssa wasn’t home yet which gave Ethan the time to head to his study. Clambering up the stairs and going to the first door on his left, a spacious room with forest green walls. A metal case of shelves with wooden baskets filled with stationary, was diagonally placed in the corner to the door. Directly opposite the door was a mahogany table with a cushioned wheeled office chair.

To the left of the door, was a red and green small plastic table and bench. Crayons and pencils were scattered on the table and floor, there were sheets of coloured papers with indiscernible scribbles. The furrow in Ethan’s eyebrows relaxed as he slipped off his black cashmere jacket and hung it on a hook to the left of him. Crouching by the small kids table and glanced at the drawings, noting the curved shapes to be attempts at writing. Writing what exactly? He wasn’t too sure. 

Nathan and Savannah were the smartest kids he knew. Why wouldn’t they be though, since their parents were the acclaimed doctors of Bloom Edenbrook’s diagnostics team. Ethan put their drawings in a woven basket which had a label of ‘kids’, he held onto all the crayons and pencils and placed them in their respective labelled pots. Placing the pots in their woven basket and placing their basket on top of the shelf unit. Alyssa probably didn’t have time to tidy up their mess because they were spending the afternoon and evening with Alyssa’s friends.

Maybe now was a good time to get started on his project as he pulled out a basket and took out a few sheets of thick matte paper and an envelope. Bringing them over to his desk and seating himself, opening a drawer in his desk. He took out a few ink pens and placed the pens next to his paper, his eyes darted to the wooden picture frame of Alyssa and their three kids: Allison, Nathan and Savannah. He still couldn’t believe that he was theirs, and they were his. It was only yesterday, when he and Alyssa were in the reception, treating for a thoracotomy and now they had a house and kids.

Ethan knew what he had to do as soon as he brought his pen to the paper, the words flew right through him as he wrote. The memories of his kids flooding his brain with a warm familiar glow.

~~~~~~

“Out of the way!”

Ethan rushed down the stairs, shoving past nurses and doctors before slamming the corridor door open to the maternity ward. Sienna was hot on his heels as he growled and grimaced at people, his eyes went to the pager as a message from Naveen popped up. ‘4cm dilated’. Ethan was close as he weaved through a never ending maze of Edenbrook’s corridors. In the distance he spotted Naveen, his dad Alan, and his daughter Allison were looking into the window of one of the maternity rooms.

“Ethan! There you are!”

“Daddy!”

His crinkled grumpy face relaxed at the sight of Allison. Five years old with a knack for mischief and a carbon copy of himself. She had his eyes and ears but Alyssa’s nose, lips and hair. Alan was taking care of Allison while Ethan and his wife were working, however, Alyssa’s contraction pains strengthened and her constant lavatory needs indicated that she needed to be checked in. Naveen came up to stand beside Ethan; who took Allison into his arms.

“Naveen, how is she?”

“Well the contractions are hurting and I have a feeling the babies are coming now. Dr. Delarosa is in there with her. Are you ready Ethan?”

Ethan gave a nod as he turned to Allison, a calm gentle smile reserved for her.

“Time to get your new siblings. You okay to wait here with Uncle Naveen and Grandpa?”

“Yeah! Uncle Naveen is buying me chocolate!”

Ethan quirked a brow at his mentor, who in return stuck with a confident grin before Ethan placed Allison down. Naveen clasped his hand around her tiny hand and led her to the staff break room, whilst listening to her ramblings about her new siblings. Ethan took a deep breath as Alan stepped up to rest his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Ethan smiled and was about to step into the room, when something held him still. His buried nerves leaked through his wall as memories of Dolores seeped to his front. Alyssa was pregnant with twins, that alone carried several complications in terms of the positioning of the babies, possible post partum haemorrhage. On top of that she was one week late, twins born post due date carry risks to the mother and the babies.

A flash of baby Ethan in the NICU drained the warmth from his face and he felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe as he pressed a hand against the door ledge, bowing his head as Alan stood beside him. Alan could tell Ethan was panicking. His shoulders shook as Alan gently probed.

“Ethan?”

“What if something happens?”

“Boston’s famous doctor is worried about a twin birth? Ethan, you’ve done this before. You know what to do.”

“It’s different. Alyssa is in there. She’s the patient. What if I can’t make the right decision?”

“Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are a diagnostician. A famous one at that. You look at the possibilities before you make your decision. You have it in you son. Plus she’s a fighter. She won’t back down. But she needs you. Be brave and if you can’t be brave, be brave for her. She needs your support.”

His father’s words felt like a warm wash of life as he inhaled the air, exhaling his anxieties and giving a steady nod. Ethan smiled at his father before pushing open the door to step into the room, stepping into action to help make Alyssa’s labour as easy as possible.

~~~~~~

“Daddy! When is Twilight Sparkle coming?”

“In a bit. If you finish your lunch, then she’ll come.”

“Daddy! Will she bring a lot of presents for us?”

“An average amount, Nathan.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched over the several little kids munching on their mini pizza slices and tater tots. It was the twins’ birthday today and the two of them invited their whole class to celebrate, the sun was shining as the kids sat on picnic blankets. The Ramseys’ had a spacious garden which could hold for nearly twenty five kids and several adults. Bryce, Jackie and Elijah were keeping an eye on the kids as Ethan slipped away to the kitchen where Alyssa was sat on a breakfast stool with her foot in Sienna’s lap. Aurora was beside them as she carefully tapped a finger against the swollen skin near her ankle. Jenner paced on his paws with nervous energy as he whined at his mom, Alyssa.

“Alyssa has sprained her ankle … Ethan.”

The friends still had a difficult time addressing Ethan by his first name but he paid no heed to it as Alyssa tried to come off the stool, trying to brush off the pain.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as I don’t walk on it.”

Ethan sighed rather exasperatedly as he folded his arms at his wife. That motion alone made Alyssa meekly smile and remain in her seat. Aurora handed her a cool pack for Alyssa to use for her sprain. She knew that she needed to rest her ankle but the twins would be so upset.

“Fine. But how are we going to solve the entertainment issue?”

At that moment the front door opened and closed as Alan strode in with a confident excited gait. He had a white cardboard box in his hands as he hummed and placed the box on the table, unveiling it to reveal a My Little Pony cake with ‘Happy 4th Birthday! Nathan and Savannah’. Alan’s brows sagged at the sight of his daughter-in-law.

“What happened?”

“I … fell.”

Ethan resorted to pinching the bridge of his nose before explaining the story. The children were showing off dance moves and there was a little girl who was showing off her gymnastics ability. Alyssa thought she could show off her talent by demonstrating a cartwheel, unfortunately her cartwheel was aimed the wrong way and Alyssa landed awkwardly in a bush with her legs askew. Alan smiled at Alyssa as he realised that there was an issue of entertainment since Alyssa was planning to dress up as the kids’ favourite character, Twilight Sparkle.

“I guess that means Alyssa can’t be Twilight Sparkle.”

Sienna gave a nod and spoke up.

“Aurora, Jackie and I would do it but I don’t think there’s enough time for any of us to learn everything about My Little Pony. The kids are gonna see right through us.”

“It’s a conundrum.”

Everyone took a moment to think before Alan’s eyes twinkled with an idea.

“I have an idea. Sienna, start watching some My Little Pony, I’ll stall the kids. ‘Lyssa, where did you keep your guitar?”

Alyssa’s eyes twinkled as she informed Alan of the guitar, to which Aurora ran up to search for it. It seemed everyone knew what to do, everyone except for Ethan, who placed his hands on his hips, turning to his father.

“Would you mind clueing me into your plan?”

“A little singing will have the kids distracted while Aurora, Alyssa and Sienna get ready. The kids will love it!”

At that moment, Bryce popped his head through the glass garden doors, there’s a slight line of sweat near the crown of his neck as he nervously glances back.

“The kids are going rabid if Twilight Sparkle doesn’t come in the next five minutes.”

Aurora rushed back down and handed Alan a brown varnished acoustic guitar, a gift from Alyssa’s patient Remy. Alan hung the strap over his shoulder and strutted outside to where all the kids shrieked and yelled.

“Okay kids! Who’s gonna sing the My Little Pony theme song?”

Ethan went out and noticed all the kids sitting at their picnic blankets, bopping and singing while Alan strummed the tune of the My Little Pony theme song. Ethan and Rafael took the time to begin cleaning up the rubbish whilst Bryce, Elijah and Jackie kept an eye out for Sienna, Aurora and Alyssa. All the kids and the twins were enraptured, even Jenner was happily panting to the music. Alan was going through a list of songs going from the My Little Pony Theme Song, to the lime and coconut song and to  the rhinestone cowboy.Not long after, Alan got a thumbs up from Bryce and Jackie to which Alan smiled and announced.

“Now children! There is someone who’d like to wish two special children a Happy Birthday!”

Nathan and Savannah jumped up with excited shrieks as Alan strummed the music of the theme song and out came Twilight Sparkle. It was Sienna donning a purple sparkly dress, wings protruding from the back and a dark wig flowing off her shoulders. Her unicorn headband was fixed into the wig and her purple make-up shone in the sun as Sienna skipped towards the kids, tossing bounds of glitter.

Aurora and Jackie were helping Alyssa settle on a deck chair as the twins hugged and cried at the fact that Twilight Sparkle had come to their party. Ethan and Alyssa sent a thankful smile as Alan returned their smile, everyone’s faces warming at the twin’s excitement.

~~~~~~

Ethan used the back of his hand to wipe off the sweat on his brow as he pushed the front door of his apartment open. Baby Allison happily chewed on her yellow teether while bouncing in the baby sling, strapped across Ethan’s chest. Alyssa was working at the hospital after spending four months at home and it was Ethan’s turn to stay home with Allison. He was glad he opted for a loose linen shirt and khaki trousers as the Boston heat was slowly racking up. Ethan had gone out to buy some ingredients for their dinner: stir fried tofu and broccoli. 

Alyssa would need some good comfort food after going back to work and he knew that Chinese would delight her. He unclipped one arm strap, pressing a palm to hold up Allison before unclipping the other to carry his daughter to her high chair in the kitchen. Allison was teething so he handed her a teething ring to help Allison improve motor skills. His daughter smiled and babbled at the sight of her dad as Ethan pressed a kiss onto his daughter’s forehead.

Allison was a daddy’s girl since she would whine and cry with Alyssa, but when it came to Ethan, Allison babbled and laughed. Alyssa was sure that she would say ‘Dada’. Ethan grinned as Jenner padded into the kitchen, bringing himself up to stand on his hind legs beside Allison. The dog was protective and loving to Allison as she tried to swat at Jenner’s nose.

“Jenner, keep an eye on her.”

Jenner barked as Ethan began taking out utensils and the shopping to get started. Draining the water from the tofu and breaking up the broccoli into florets. Every so often, his eyes would wander to his little girl on the high chair. Ethan still couldn’t believe the fact that he was a father. A living breathing child was in his care, one he made with the woman he loved as his eyes glistened at the memories of her birth. Despite expecting for children to not be in the cards for him, life had a way of telling him that it was always the case.

As Ethan stared longingly at his daughter, Jenner could smell something faintly burning; turning his head to hear a loud crackle and pop. Jenner barked furiously which had Ethan snap out and realise the onions and garlic had burnt in the wok, the broccoli was charred beyond recognition as Ethan turned off the induction hob. The loud barks caused Allison to startle and little beads of tears streamed down her face.

His heart lurched as he immediately stalked to his daughter to take her in his arms and get her to settle down. It was the first time in a long time that Ethan burnt dinner as he exhaled at the time on his wrist watch. Alyssa would be home in an hour and it was too late to restart. He didn’t have enough ingredients and he couldn’t whip up something else in time for Alyssa to sink her teeth into.

At that moment his phone rang as Ethan reached into his pocket to rest the phone between his ear and shoulder, while bouncing a teary Allison in his lap.

“Ethan Ramsey.”

“Ethan.” The corner of Ethan’s lips curled upwards at the recognition of his father’s voice. “I’m just about ten minutes away from your home. Alyssa invited me to have dinner, do you need anything?”

Ethan glanced at the mess behind him, a low exhale left his lips.

“Can you please pick up some Chinese on your way here?”

It wasn’t long when Alan arrived with several bags of Chinese take out from Xing-Fu’s Restaurant. Ethan took the bags from Alan and set up the dining table while Alan took the time to talk and play with his granddaughter, Jenner wagged his tail rapidly as he watched Alan and Allison. Not long after the kitchen was clear and the dinner table was set, Alyssa had entered the apartment with a smile on her face.

She took a moment to freshen up before joining the Ramseys at the dinner table. Her eyes sparkled at the array of side dishes as she pecked Ethan’s cheek before digging rather ravenously into the food. All the tension from the day melted under the spicy heat of duck and the softness of lotus buns. Ethan and Alan share a knowing smile as they too get stuck into their meal, Allison smiles and babbles in her high chair next to Alyssa. Glad to have her mother with her.

~~~~~~

The memories faded as Ethan lifted his pen from the letter, a soft nostalgic smile brushed on his face as he pushed the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A faint sound of the front door opened as excited chirps and barking fluttered into his study. The kids, Jenner and Alyssa were home as Ethan smiles at the incoming thunder steps, spinning his office chair to the direction of the door. The twins come tumbling in and launch themselves into Ethan’s arms, not giving a chance for Ethan to pay attention to their chatter. Jenner is sitting at the entrance of the door, while Allison stands behind him with her hand scratching the top of his fur. 

“Nathan, Savannah! I cannot understand your rambling.”

“Yeah, they had a lot of pastries. Aunt Sienna made a lot of cakes and biscuits.”

Ethan shook his head with a teasing grin at the twins. The two of them hid their mouths as Nathan denied.

“No we didn’t. Ally did!”

“Liar, I saw you two take two slices of the chocolate fudge cake.”

“No! You’re dreaming Ally.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at his troublesome twins but pressed long kisses into their hair. Savannah leaned over his shoulder and noticed the pen and paper before pressing her two palms on Ethan’s face, forcing him to look directly at her as she asked.

“Are you drawing without us?”

Ethan shook his head as he explained.

“I’m making a gift for grandpa.”

“Are you gonna give it to him tomorrow?”

Before he could answer, Alyssa appeared at the door with her hands on her hips, dressed in a green cotton dress and brown knee high boots. Her mom voice was coming through as she moved her eyes between the troublesome twins.

“Nathan and Savannah. Time for bed. We’ve got to wake up early tomorrow if you want to spend the whole day with Grandpa.”

“Do we have to?”

Ethan stood up and held on to the twins as he smartly urged.

“Come on if you get dressed for bed, you can stay up late tomorrow.”

The twins gasped as they scrambled off Ethan’s arms and rushed to their bedroom to get into their pyjamas. A small smile curled up on Alyssa’s lips as she turned to the eldest Ramsey child.

“You too, Ally!”

“But Mom!”

“Come on.”

Ethan steps up to the doorway and sweetly kisses his wife as she cupped his cheek.

“You coming?”

“Just finishing up.”

Alyssa gave a nod and led her daughter away to her bedroom, Jenner obediently bounding behind them. Ethan returned to his desk to read over the last words he wrote.

Look at me now. I’m a dad.

Thank you for making me the man I am today.

Love,

Dr. Ethan J. Ramsey

[sweetpickolwarrior]

The Three Times You Didn't Want Them To Hear You, The One Time You Did (Part 1)

Established fic

Small!Brown!Female!Reader

Not too apparent but just letting you know in case.

TW - canon-typical violence, description of fighting, blood, gore, swearing, sexist language, description of injury, descrioptions of anxiety/panic attacks

Fic summary:You have been travelling with geralt and Jaskier for quite some time, you had always been told that your voice would take you places before you had no choice but to abandon your previous life. You still loved it though. This fic explores the times you let go and let yourself sing.

Chapter Summary: The first time Jaskier and Geralt heard you sing. This was not planned. Tis a big deal for you.

Jaskier had grown used to Geralt's constant pining for silence, his rumbles of discontent and years of “shut up” and "fuck off" while he plucked away on his lute and let melodies fall from his lips. Though he knew that under all the furrowed brows and bitter growls, the witcher appreciated him.

Truth be told, coin had often been halved, quartered or suddenly 'stolen' away from lords, knights and nobles alike rendering them incapable of paying the witcher even after monsters had been slain...that is until the ballad had started to follow him like flies after shit. Since then, some noblemen would actively seek him out for any twig crack in the woods to then invite the trio to a throwaway dinner party so they could show off the white-haired champion if they caught word of him within three towns.

Naturally, he resented the very idea of lingering about these people any more than he already had to, being talked about, sung about, danced about, treated like some sort of trophy workhand for these tittering idiots. And of course, Jaskier leapt at the opportunity to perform for the more rosy-cheeked, satin clad crowd, and you often just went along with whoever won the squabble, enjoying either a night of Jaskier singing atop a table in a tavern or atop a table in a banquet hall. (Though the latter often left you with a heftier rattle in your pouches and warm beds, baths and linens for a few more nights.)

How you would have wanted that a few months ago.

About six months earlier

It was bound to happen sooner or later, travelling with two men and often having to settle for a bed on the ground. Not that you often minded, but that night, after a longer than necessary altercation with a couple of alghouls, you had crashed into your bedroll, not bothering to clean the blood off your face let alone off your arrows and out of your clothes.

You woke that morning to aching bones and a musty stench you wanted to be rid of as soon as possible.

The grass was dewy and sweet-smelling as you turned to the other side, letting the sun stroke your cheek good morning. You saw roach tied to a nearby tree and had concluded that your companions had wandered to the next town for supplies. You had been running low on a good few essentials for a while now and were grateful that your companions had let you slumber away, knowing you didn't fuss too much over anything they would get from the market.

You opened your pack and grabbed two lumps of soap before heading to the river that had lulled you to sleep that night. The first, a dry lye soap made simply and quickly, good for getting "blood, shit and grit out" as Geralt so elegantly put it. And the second, still wrapped in wax paper, the last few crumbles of a soft, fragrant lavender soap you had made yourself. You had saved so many dried flowers from where you could, hung and dried them on the side of your satchel, scraped the bottom of vials clean for drops of various oils into your little bottle, olive, sunflower, even a little of Jaskier's special coconut oil. Cooking a soap over the campfire was a waste of wood in Geralt’s eyes, but you could tell the soft scent calmed him as it wafted through the air that night.

You smiled to yourself as you finally stepped into the river, the edges warmed by the kiss of the sun.

You peeled off your trousers and walked further in, letting the water lap at your thighs growing used to the cold quickly. Rubbing the soap into your trousers, you watched as the blood slowly swirled out in front of you and saw as your fingers started to go from angry splotches of red and black back to that natural, warm brown. Your shirt stuck to your skin and hair, caked crimson. After all this time, you still could not believe how much things bled. Your mind flashed back to the alghouls from last night as your fingers worked through cleaning your formerly beige overshirt.

It should have been easy. Just two. You were only there to watch how Geralt wielded his sword for a few, usually weak opponents. His silver sword heaved thick strokes through the air, his feet danced around his opponents and you let your arrows loose from afar, aiding your friend as another got too close for your liking. The specially made silver tips slicing through skin and bone, causing a shriek. It turned and caught another arrow in its shoulder, bounding toward you. Frantic, you simply held out your next arrow in your hand, ready to impale it as it drew near enough. But you froze. Was this one of the ones you had to get in a specific place? Drive it through the heart? The head? Why was it still running? Surely two silver arrows should have been enou-

shhhlllck

Geralt unseamed the creature through it's abdomen from behind and drew his sword up and through it’s head as its blood gushed over you and the last few gurgles escaped what was left of its throat as it crumpled before you in a horrid mess.

"You're too slow up close. It would have had you."

He was right.

As talented as you were with a bow and arrow, able to get a man in the eye from half a field away, your experience with close combat was laughable. Usually, you had time to think, plan out your shots, you didn't even have to deal with blood until you retrieved your arrows. You probably would have had your face ripped off. Or your throat torn out. Or something.

You place the sopping shirt next to your trousers on the bank and scurry back with the lavender soap in your hand. Once you've thrust yourself back into the gentle river almost chest level, you start to hum a soft tune, trying to ignore the murky red all over, instead focus on the light scent of lavender and the gliding of the soap through your hair. You close your eyes and let your mouth fall open, a melody plucked from a memory now dull and faded, the sound clear and bright.

Losing yourself in the rises and falls in the melody, voice opening and notes falling out as your muscles remember what it is to have sound flow and gush from your belly out into the world. No body, no mind, no cold, no blood-

All of a sudden, a loud brightly coloured heap burst through the foliage and breathlessly plunged into the river, flailing erratically. You attempt to preserve your unmentionables with your hands, your lilting voice turning to shrill yelps. You submerge yourself lower, shoulders barely peeking out over the disturbed waves. In contrast, the intruder, exploding out of the water as frantically as he fell in, spluttering and coughing “Y/N! You can - cough - sing! You can sing!! - cough -”

Oh, thank the Gods.

“JASKIER! GO AWAY!”

“But Y/N! -cough - You sounded lovely! I-”

“I’M NAKED JASKIER FUCK OFF!”

Jaskier slapped his hand to his eyes immediately and scrambled back up the bank, stumbling as he managed to regain his footing and ran off, his back to you whilst still covering his eyes.

You had not expected them to be back so soon. Truth be told you had not known how long they had been gone when you woke but then why hadn’t you heard them coming back?

Not focusing again. Fuck! You know you can’t afford to get lost in your own head again, stupid girl. What would have happened if it had been someone else hearing a-

He heard. Geralt too probably with his enhanced senses.

Fucks sake.

It had just been so long since you had let your voice be free. You hadn’t let your companions hear you so much as hum on your travels as you were sure that it would make you come across as a silly little girl. With Jaskier it was different. He is a poet, a bard. He had been studying it for many years whereas you had pipe dreams growing up like every other lass in the village. You sang in school with a wide smile and a voice that rang like a bell, you sang on holy Fridays with fingers interlaced and the plume of your mothers rouge on your cheeks. Nothing compared to the grand halls and festivals that Jaskier would perform at. Gods you hoped he wouldn’t speak of it again. You were sure that they would take you even less seriously now.

You’ll show them

Just go back to camp and pretend it didn’t happen. Say there was a girl wandering nearby and Jaskier should go and chase her before she is lost to the woods forever.

If this carries on, get yourself killed or someone else hurt. You know that Geralt can’t let that happen. He’ll probably drop you off in the town and wish you luck because you’ve become more stress than your skills are worth. You get it, you do.

It will just be so hard getting used to being alone again.

Your head is spiralling again. You need this to stop. You think of the meditation that Geralt showed you. You can't meditate, you're still naked in a river! Tears escape your eyes as you just can’t organise your thoughts into any kind of action. You can't run naked through the woods, you can't turn up in your sopping wet clothes, you’re no help on hunts, you’ve let your biggest comfort turn into your biggest embarrassment because you just can’t think straight.

“Y/N! I - I’m not looking! I have your clothes you left them back at camp”

You look up to see Jaskier was inching closer, eyes covered by one hand, your dry pair of clothes draped over his other forearm. He was inching closer, his toes probing to see if he had gone too far. Once his foot had felt the sploshy bank he stopped and held his arm out. You were sure that he had not heard you cry but you didn’t want the lump in your throat to give it away. You rose out, plucked the clothes from him and he promptly scampered off, one hand still across his eyes for some reason. You let out your breath, finding it had slowed due to holding it in for so long. You wrung out your hair as much as you could before flinging your trousers and shirt on with shaking hands. You were sure you could sleep right on into the next day.

At camp

Jaskier had fumbled back to camp, drenched and squelching till he could hear the soft wooshing of roach’s breath. Geralt was sat, sorting the things they had brought from market.

----------

Jakier was stumbling giddy from when he had first encountered the river, his mind rushing as he made his way through the trees.

That voice! Hesitant, yet rich and full and resonant. Thick with the weight of being tied inside her chest, it would take some practice to let her voice flourish and fly like he knew it could, but that was no matter! With his brief but busy year being a professor at Oxenfurt under his belt, he scoured through the plethora of exercises and scales that he had stored away. Her warm tone, he thought, would contrast beautifully with his chipper and airy voice.

In his head flashed scenes of the two writing together, performing together, studying together. Jaskier, Poet of the continent accompanied by-

“What did you do Jaskier”

The voice came firm and gruff, as opposed to the often exasperated or gentle (rarely was there anything in between) tone his witcher friend usually employed when he was addressing the bard.

Jaskier’s ear wide grin faltered as Geralt towered over him.

Knowing the flirty way of Jaskier and seeing him dripping before him, hearing the shout of “IM NAKED” and honing in his ear, he was presently hearing the soft gasps of Y/N, he could not help but draw himself to conclusions, knowing that human men, even those whom one trusted could turn to be worse than the monsters in his quests. When the fathers and trusted lovers of innocent women could turn as quickly as the page of a book, what was a loose and often unashamed bard that he happened to know for a few years?

He grabbed the young man by his soaking collars

“What the fuck did you do”

Somewhere between a growl and a roar, the words seethed from Geralt as he heard Y/N’s sharp breaths mix with sobs she was trying to silence.

After that night, he knew his small friend would need some time. They had both been exhausted, his head pounding from the potions he had used, he didn’t speak much to her apart from some abrupt criticism after the last alghoul was taken care of. He didn’t know much about teaching or guiding, or comforting for that matter, but he figured letting her sleep in would do no harm and he had bought some apples for her to feed roach. That helped him. The thought that she should be thrust from one horrid altercation to another at the hands of his first companion filled him with rage. These thoughts raced through his head while he attempted to decipher Jaskier’s words through this sudden wave of protectiveness.

Jaskier was chuckling, almost about to pat his massive friend on the head like an overreactive hound,

“I fail to see why you’re so wound up, dear witcher. I simply sought to find the source of the singing, and it turned out to be Y/N! Marvellous isn’t she?”

“Why are you wet.” Geralt demanded.

truth be told, he was so used to hearing Jaskier’s voice or lute, he simply dumped the noise into that category. Thinking back, it was different. Still musical, but different. Jaskier’s sound seemed to sit on the wind and flit and glide like a bird while this new sound was earthy, full, round, blending with the flow of the river and almost raw, coarse and slightly unsteady like a horse that had run for the first time out of market.

“I was simply mesmerised, Geralt. " he sighed, sagging slightly in the bigger man's grip " I was convinced it might be a water nymph, that I might catch it, steal some ideas for melody and- and then let the poor thing go of course, but”

“Why is she crying Jaskier”

The girl’s sobs had subsided slightly, but her breath was shuddering and shallow. He knew when she got like this, it was hard to get back down. He had expected it sometime today but usually, he could smell the fear rising, notice the scrunching up of her small frame, and make sure the trio were alone, quiet, ready.

“Crying? Whatever do you mea-”

The focused and worried look on Geralt’s face clicked in Jaskiers’ head and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him

“Oh gods, shit. Shes alone. What do I do Geralt? Can you hear her?”

The stream came pouring out his mouth as he paced around the camp, his eyes landing on a pile of neatly folded clothes.

“ Jaskier go back and give them to her. Slowly. She’ll come back in her own time”

Geralt listened intently while Jaskier went to return the garments. It surprised him that the sound of his younger companion trying to catch her breath like it was a feather in the wind was the same person who had made such a pleasing sound not very many minutes ago.

It stopped.

He couldn’t hear her breathe, but Jaskier was calm. He heard the rustling of clothes and the damp footfall of the bard returning. He turned his attention back to her again. He was afraid that after the episode, holding her breath would cause her to topple back into the river. Stupid. He should’ve thought of that beforehand. She didn’t. Strong lass. He heard her breaths less shallow as her hair dripped and her clothes were back on.

He was reassured now and started to take out the apples from the small fruit sack.

“Well if she was crying, she isn’t any more” stated Jaskier, almost reassuring himself that his clumsiness couldn’t have hurt his friend.

He proceeded to look for his woollen blanket, laying it out carefully, waiting for his friend to return.

A/N

Thank you so much for reading! Its the first time I've started writing after a long time, if you have any constructive criticism please leave it in the comments :)

I've started a new AO3, Tumblr page and page on Fanfiction.net which will hold my fics too. same username :)

I am very pernickety when writing which is why it's been hard for me to upload anything in the last few years and why it might take a little time for me to upload new chapters but please stick around :D

PART 2

mwah x

[namgee]

implications | knj

❥pairing: Namjoon x Reader (f)   ❥genre: fluff, slice of life (pg) ❥word count: 2.3k ❥summary: The adventurer life isn’t for you. You like your routines and you stick to them, but a small mess-up finally forces you beyond your desired level of social interaction as you rely on a stranger. A stranger whose actions and words imply things you wish to explore. ❥warnings: none  ❥a/n: this was just a quick little thing I wrote a few days ago before I got started on another smut fic which should come out in about a week 😋 ^^ I did a quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes 😣

A silence that sounds with turning pages, graphite scraping against thick paper and the ever present hums that arise from thought. Your ears anticipate it even before you're there. It’s, for the most part, the same soundscape you’ve grown accustomed to since you started visiting the art atelier. Well, the building technically has multiple ateliers, whatever your artistic interest, for a reasonable fee each month, you can visit the space and use their resources. Each floor focuses on certain subject areas, people are allowed to move around and work wherever they want. Like a Google workspace except for the arts.

You usually stick to the 4th floor, where most of the graphics tools are. The elevator dings, you step away from the metallic box and towards the senior part-time receptionist, Diane, who gives unsolicited artistic advice under the guise that old age equates to prowess in art criticism. The advice isn’t half as bad as you expected still, you rarely take it. You place your folder on the desk giving her a smile, teeth barely visible, it’s the best iteration of ‘a lady should always smile when talking to others’ smile you can muster with your lips chapped from the borderline glacial air you had to walk through this afternoon.

“Well, hello young lady! You haven’t visited the establishment in a while. Mateo has been asking about you actually.”

Mateo is the head of the graphic art department who you might or might not like, there’s still a few weeks left for you to decide. Your roommate, Jovian, had given you the ultimatum, “You have until you finish whatever creature you’re trying to collage together this time around,” she had said waving her half painted stiletto nail around before diverting her attention to another girl who also seemed to be having a hard time choosing as her family and in laws attempted to decide for her. On one thing you were sure, you would have said no to the dress she had on.

“There we have it! That’s a much better smile that one you gave before. It’s always best to show some teeth,” Diane says, her two row of teeth (some of which look awfully fake) in full display.

“I’ll sure think about it next time Diane. I’m just here to check in right now,” you sigh, removing your decaying gloves which have lost their purpose, your fingers are about as stale as Diane’s as you fish around for your membership card in your wallet.

“The time please darling.”

“3pm to 8pm,” you say blowing warm air into your palms.

It takes a few minutes for her to find your name in the system. “Oh sweetheart, it seems someone else already took your spot.”

“Exactly how did they take my spot?”

“Hmmm,” Diane’s eyes lift upwards as she tries to find an answer in the air, “to be quite frank with you I do not know.” She sounds shocked that she doesn’t know something.

“Uh, excuse me?” Someone questions from behind you. You both turn towards the voice coming from a golden haired man sporting what is most likely the best variant of the fully toothed lady smile Diane advocates for. To make matters even better it’s shaped like a heart. “I believe that I was the one who took the spot.” he giggles nervously as if caught red-handed before sliding his own card onto the desk.

You assume he’s here to work with graphics for some sort of fashion related purpose, in fact he sort of looks like the graphics plastered around the building: colourful, bold, warm but still a bit overwhelming.

“You’re indeed the one who booked the slot first, young man.”

“I believe that this is what the trainer for my position was referring to as a glitch in the system.” Diane says with an air of pride.

“Hm, sorry about that,” The human embodiment of a colour wheel says with an apologetic pout.

“Oh, don’t worry I’m sure I can find another place, it isn’t your fault,” you wave your hand around giving him your second or third genuine smile of the day. He mumbles a shy ‘okay’ before heading right, away from you.

“Can you see if there’s any place on the other floors?” You reluctantly ask, after all you had never gone to other floors unless it was to buy snacks because the queues on the 4th floor were too long or to find unoccupied bathrooms.

Diane finds you an opening for the floor above. You thank her and move back to catch the elevator doors right before they close, swiftly slipping in towards a surprised figure, a big figure. You mumble a quick apology after bumping into him. When you turn your head to look at him he gives you what you assume to be his own equivalent of the barely noticeable smile you gave Diane a few minutes ago.

The ride takes a few seconds. You rush out the second the opening of the doors is big enough for you slip past if you just take a deep breath in. Another second goes by where you feel disoriented. The floor layout is not that different from the one beneath but the place looks far more cramped than what you expected. Don’t writers like to be alone? In their own space?

You watch as Mr. Big gives yet another one of his glances, you haven’t figured out how to describe them yet, you don’t know if you’re being judged or just being perceived or whatever it is that writers do.

He goes to the right, so you take the other way. You peruse the space for a place you could sit down to work on your project. Somehow, the writers with their notebooks and laptops seem stingy about letting you settle down despite how packed the floor already is.

For every glance you take at a potential working spot you receive three glances and these ones you know to be of the judgy kind. You walk and walk only to end up on square one. Just to make sure, you do another round and another one as if you were in a full parking lot waiting for one of the cars to magically pull out for you to get a place. By your third tentative walk, the one where you put the most effort to seem approachable and nice, someone takes pity on you.

It seems it’s not only his stature that is big but so is his heart.

“Oh god, thank you!” You sigh, sliding into Mr. Big’s little corner which faces backwards from the café.

“It was starting to look... sad.” He gives you a brief look before focusing back on his laptop screen.

“It wouldn’t have been, if you writers were more welcoming,” you scoff, shrugging off your jacket, the rustling brings your actions to his focus.

A delicate slender hand pushes against his glasses as he leans back, “You’re quite the daredevil, huh?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, slipping past closing elevator doors and sitting down to probably do something noisy with a lot of... “ He takes a look at your stash of materials, “things while surrounded by silence seeking writers. Those things make me say that.”

“That’s a very boring view on action. Also the concept of this building is literally to allow anyone to work anywhere.”

“Sure, you’re right but just because that’s their goal doesn’t mean it turns out that way. This place is no different from high school, certain spaces have been sort of ‘claimed’.”

“And you expect me to act like a good teenage girl and not start trouble?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Aren’t you a writer? You should know certain words can imply certain things,” you say matter of factly and receive a disjointed but delightful laugh as his hand fists to cover his wide smile.

“Anything else you know about writers that you would like to share?”

“You might end up making a character out of me, or a scene out of my situation.” You’re playing on stereotypes but for all you know they could be true. You lay out your material on the table forcing him to scoot a bit. He doesn’t protest and you appreciate that, so you give me a genuine tight lipped ‘thank you’ smile.

“So what are you doing?” He asks, lowering his computer screen a bit.

“A collage.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t really know yet. I’m just figuring it out as I go.” You stare at the big pile of magazines, newspapers and flyers you managed to collect over the past month. Something has to come out of it. “What about you?”

“Pretty similar actually, I just came here to write, figuring it out as I go you know.” He picks up a piece of paper nearest to him, a green flyer. “Do you even know what it says?” He holds it up to you. The text is in Arabic.

“No, I don’t.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean the work will be tied to you.” He questions.

“It doesn't matter, it’s not like anyone will see this,” you mumble, snatching the flyer from him.

“Someone should, I don’t know much about collages, actually I know nothing, but I like what I see so far.”

“What exactly do you see?” You probe.

“Ummm… uhhhh… it’s– there’s branches and,” he leans over to get a better look and hesitates “tentacles? Okay, so maybe I don’t know what it is, but I still stand by it. It’s nice to look at.”

“Would you give it as a gift to someone?” You probe even further.

“You know what, I’m just trying to tell you I like it. Like I would totally buy it! So yes, I would give it to someone, myself!” He has an overly cheery voice that encourages more glances your way. The more you look, the more you start thinking they’re watching you and not judging.

“How much?”

He gives you an incredulous expression, he seems both intrigued and confused with behaviour.

You snort a short laugh, “I’m just messing with you. But don’t get me wrong if you do want to buy it then I’m definitely taking offers.”

At that he retreats back into himself and his silence to focus on the blank document page. You shrug it away, you knew his words were too good to be true.

The two of you work in relative silence, your ripping and cutting does add a bit of a soundtrack for the period of time. After an hour or so of working, you move to buy a cinnamon bun, and while you’re at it you buy a second one. You did feel a bit apologetic for disturbing his workspace, you of all people should know.

You place his plate beside him but he’s too engrossed into his writing to provide any response. He does finally whisper a shy ‘thanks’ once he lifts his gaze from the screen. You answer with a nonchalant but truthful ‘no biggie’.

The hours bleed into themselves and soon enough your allocated time is about to run out. You’re quite used to that routine,packing up your material well in time to leave. However, the man in front of you doesn’t seem to have a good grasp of time. Last minute, he hurries to assemble his belongings, swiftly turning around to check that he hasn’t left anything behind, almost knocking down the plate that you manage to catch.

Your elevator ride to the bottom floor is as silent as the one you had earlier. You walk with synchronised strides somehow following the same way after you leave the building. You’re sure one of you is following the other, but as long as you’re concerned you’re taking the way back home. You walk in silence for a few more minutes before you think of asking him where he lives, just to make sure but he beats you to speaking.

“So uhhh, would–” he starts off in a high pitched voice which he masks with a cough, “I meant, would you like to grab a coffee?”

“At 8pm?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Or a drink?” He suggests.

“What does coffee or a drink mean?”

“I thought you were good at getting the implications of certain words.” He smirks, which seems out of character, but then again you don’t know him. You’re just curious about something first.

“What did you end up writing?”

“A short story about an avid museum visitor that discovers a collage at an exhibition that has him intrigued.” He chuckles knowing very well it just proves your point. And you smile satisfied to have finally figured out what that particular glance of his meant. He was just taking you in.

“It’s Y/N by the way,” you would have reached out your hand towards him but they’re cold so you compensate with a warm smile Diane would approve of. “And I wouldn’t mind a drink right now.”

“I’m Namjoon and I’m very happy you said that” He punctuates his excitement with a dimple. The same one you would come to grow enamoured with, so much you would make a collage piece out of all the pictures you’ve taken where it is present. In return, he would, just as he did today, unconsciously and deliberately write your works into his stories, and welcome you into his space.

“By the way, when you let me sit with you in your space, were you claiming me then?” You ask out of curiosity and urge to mess with him.

“I– I don’t know what you’re implying. But if you mean me taking pity on you then yes.” You scoff a bit too loud at his response. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to whatever it is you have in mind,” He says, looking down at your quizzical expression with warm eyes and a restrained laugh as he walks closer to you. It seems you’re not the only one who’s good with implications.

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

all rights reserved namgee

[flutteringdreams-matw]

Out of Time 2/?

Sam closed her locker forcefully, spooking the poor freshman down the hall. Her parents had tried, again, to put her in some stupid beauty contest with a ridiculous amount of pink on the poster. Apparently, entering a beauty contest (even if it was to make a statement) and then winning meant more exposure for 'someone in her social standard.' She tried to argue her case, but apart from telling them it was all a ploy cooked up by an evil ghost trying to find a wife (which she couldn't do), she had to promise to at least consider it. Besides, it did have a decent scholarship that she could donate to Jazz if she managed to win (rather…. participate). Some good had to come out of her wearing that unholy colour. One thing was for certain… if this happened… the secret was going to her grave.

"What's got you in a mood?" Tucker joked as he walked toward her. A lot had changed for the trio in the past year; Tucker now stood a good few inches taller than her, but still quite lanky. His love of technology had evolved into more than just hacking, even creating a few hologram machines and working directly with the Fentons on new technology. She herself was a little taller, still very much interested in black apparel, but did try to change her wardrobe up a bit. It did irk her a bit that the boys now towered over her; she had to go to more extravagant lengths to mess with them. Tucker leaned against the lockers smirking, waiting for the Goth girl in front of him to answer.

"Parents," she said, shrugging. "Finish the homework for Lancer?"

"Which one?" Tucker asked drily. "History, English or Science?"

Sam scoffed. "Still can't believe Lancer is teaching 3 out of 4 courses this semester. Let alone having him last semester and most of last year."

Tucker sighed dramatically. "Well Sam, when you live in the most haunted city in America, people tend to pack up and leave. I still can't believe Ishiyama is teaching the Juniors now that most of the teachers quit."

Sam hummed in agreement as she looked down the hall. "Any sign of the clueless one?"

"Why, anything important to confess?" Tucker asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. She frowned as she pushed the teen into a set of lockers, looking slightly red. "Geez Sam, I'm only kidding. He texted saying he'll be here soon – something about emptying the thermos." Sam nodded absently as they moved down the hallway. Tucker followed her with a frown. "You know I'm not pushing you to do anything right?" he asked, uncharacteristically genuine in his teasing. "Tell Danny whenever you want, but you can't just repress your feelings forever, no matter how Goth you think it is. I just want you guys to be happy."

Sam smiled gratefully at her friend. "Thanks Tuck." They walked in silence, observing Dash and his football cronies tag team putting a couple freshmen into lockers.

Tucker rolled his eyes as he adjusted his beret. "I definitely don't miss that," he said.

"Shame, I'm sure it would be a fun experiment to see if you still fit into one of these little metal boxes," Sam joked darkly. Tucker elbowed her.

"Hey! I'm just glad Danny's ghost fighting muscles made Dash wary about picking on us. I mean, it still sucks for them but I'm glad I only have to worry about ghosts beating us up now."

Sam rolled her eyes at that. "Your priorities astound me," she said sarcastically.

"Sam! Tuck!"

Both teens whirled around to see Danny bounding down the hallway, backpack half open as he ducked past some students. They watched, half amused, as he tripped slightly, regaining his balance and came to a stop in front of them, breathing heavily.

"Morning," Tucker said flippantly. "Good to see you made it before the bell. Long night?"

Danny smiled wryly. Standing to his full height (which Sam only vaguely noticed was almost the same height as Tucker's), he grabbed his backpack and brought it forward, zipping it closed. "Yeah, I overslept and needed to empty the Box Ghost and Skulker into the zone. I can't believe I made it in on time!"

"I'm sure Lancer will say the same thing," Tucker quipped.

"I resent that!" Danny retorted. "I've been on time 4 out of 5 times a week this school year. Gonna end the year on a high." Danny had been grateful to his parents on taking most of the ghosts during the day while he was at school to avoid the amount of absences he racked up. He still handled most of the big ghosts or attacks nearby, but it was nice to have a backup that didn't involve someone trying to waste him.

"So why'd you oversleep anyway – ghost trouble?" Sam asked. The trio used their lack of popularity to speak openly enough in the halls.

Danny shrugged, not quite meeting her eye. "Just a nightmare," he said as they started to head for homeroom. "Didn't get back to sleep for a while so I did Lancer's homework instead."

Sam and Tucker both frowned worriedly. "Another one?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah," Danny said. Sam noticed that he was trying to push through the topic; her brow furrowed as she recognized his tell. "I remember bits and pieces mostly, but nothing concrete." Out of nowhere, Sam grabbed him by the collar and put him up against the lockers. Bewildered, Danny looked down into the accusing violet eyes of his best friend. "Sam!? Wha-"

"Liar," she accused, pointing her finger threateningly. "Was it like the others?" Danny started to make excuses, but she moved her finger in front of his nose and poked him. "Don't play hero right now. Was it like the other dreams?" Some passers-by stopped to watch the commotion, but once seeing it was Sam and Danny, they shrugged and walked by.

Danny looked at Tucker for assistance, but found that he got no sympathy from his best friend. Tucker was also watching him carefully, concerned but fully supportive of Sam's current interrogation technique. Tucker tilted his head, silently repeating the question.

Danny sighed heavily, making Sam release the boy from her vice grip. "Different images this time," Danny admitted, "Felt the same when I woke. Didn't feel like a dream."

"Dude, you need to tell Ethelwulf," Tucker told him.

Danny shook his head. "Not yet," he said, confusing his friends. "It was definitely just a dream. I'm just thinking about it too much and it's making it worse. I'll tell him eventually."

"Once is a dream. Three times is a coincidence."

Sam looked at him worriedly, before sighing in defeat. "If this happens again, I'm telling Ethelwulf myself," she said, walking into Lancer's English class in a huff.

Danny frowned at her demeanour as he watched her go. He glanced at Tucker who shrugged in response. "She's just worried," Tucker told him. "We both are. The last time you thought you were facing him, you almost exploded with power- literally. These dreams- it's starting to be a pattern Danny. It isn't like you've had dreams that predicted battles before."

"Yeah, but that was planted by Fear," Danny said frowning. Tucker gave him a pointed look. "Okay, I see your point. If it gets worse, I'll let him know."

Tucker smiled. "It's all we ask," he replied. Both boys walked into the classroom and headed to the back of the class where Sam was sitting with crossed arms. "Besides, best not to worry Sam. Her fury is enough to give us nightmares for eternity."

Sam's eyes narrowed darkly, but held a bit of humour to them. "And don't you boys forget it," she said menacingly.

:-=-:

Danny floated in front of a darker part of the Ghost Zone, frowning. He was sure this was the way to Clockwork's tower – now, however, it seemed to have distorted, not having a clear sense of direction. "Weird," Danny muttered to himself. He looked down at the map he was currently holding, trying to regain his place. "I'm definitely in the right area." He floated down closer to the Far Frozen, staring at the large swirling vortex in front of him. It shifted again, showing part of Pariah's Keep and Walker's prison instead of the Observant's Headquarters.

Crossing his arms, Danny sighed. He didn't want to admit how much his dreams were bugging him, but Tucker was right. He couldn't ignore them anymore, and if he was worried about his future self escaping, there was really one ghost to ask before he talked to Ethelwulf. Rather… attempt to ask – Clockwork was never one to come out and say anything directly.

"Great One?"

Danny turned at the voice. Frostbite was floating behind him, worry etched in his features. In his thoughts, Danny had floated close to the edge of the Far Frozen's mountainside, where the yeti leader could easily see him from the main gates. "Hey Frostbite," Danny said in greeting, floating towards him.

"I sensed your core as you approached," Frostbite told him, "You've been floating here for a while."

"I had hoped to visit Clockwork," Danny said, looking back at the darker part of the Zone. "Do you know why that area keeps changing?"

Frostbite frowned, looking to the area that Danny was indicating to. "I see you've noticed," Frostbite said seriously. "While the Ghost Zone is constantly shifting, Clockwork's realm shifts more frequently. It's to ward off any unwanted guests."

"But it's always shown the same path for me," Danny argued. He showed Frostbite his map and pointed to where they were. "Past the Observant's Headquarters, through the valley of gears and then his lair."

Frostbite frowned, looking at the map before turning his attention to the young ghost. "Then perhaps the Time Guardian does not wish to see you, Great One."

Danny frowned at that. Clockwork never prevented him from visiting. Annoyingly refuse him help, sure. Perhaps there was something more going on.

"You seem uneasy, Danny," Frostbite probed. Danny looked at him quizzically, recognizing his name rather than the titles Frostbite usually called him. "Our cores are kin; born of a frigid cold that generates from our birth. I'm able to tell when something is bothering you."

"Is it that obvious?" Danny asked drily. They floated for a moment, staring out into the Ghost Zone in silence. "I've been having dreams," Danny admitted. Frostbite said nothing, giving Danny the invitation to continue. "I faced this ghost – an alternate version of me – who was by far the worst ghost I've ever fought. Worse than Pariah Dark even. For a long time, I was afraid of… well… a lot. Facing him. Becoming him. Sometimes, I catch myself checking if I look like him as I get older."

"These dreams you speak of… do you dream of becoming him?" Frostbite asked.

Danny shook his head. "They don't feel like dreams," he said softly, before he could stop himself. "They feel like glimpses of the future."

Frostbite was quiet for a long time before responding. "What do you see Great One?" he asked.

"Battles mostly; at least three different ones. But last night, I saw him. Or I was him? Either way, he was escaping." Frostbite nodded. Danny shifted in his stance, waiting for Frostbite to say something. "It's probably nothing," he added half-heartedly, not wanting to worry his friend. "The last time I really gave him any thought was over a year ago. I'm probably just stressed or worried or something and it's bringing this back up."

"Perhaps," Frostbite mused, still looking out into the Zone. The larger ghost turned to the teen beside him. "Do you remember what I said to you when you were worried about facing Undergrowth?"

Danny nodded. "Fear is natural and charging into battle despite it is what makes you a hero," he summarized.

"It's alright to fear your dreams," Frostbite continued, "But you should not let it consume you Great One. Dwelling on the unknown has caused many a ghost to fall."

"So, you think I'm overreacting?" Danny asked, a tad hopeful.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Frostbite responded quickly. Danny looked down, crestfallen. "It matters what you think. You're discovering new powers daily, focus on the here and now, not the could haves or what will be. Charge into these battles – these dreams – and see what you find. The answer lies with you."

Danny sighed, frowning. "And if they turn out to be just nightmares?"

Frostbite chuckled. "Then you have your answer." Frostbite's small smile fell as he observed the boy in front of him. "Though, I have a feeling you already know the answer."

Danny at looked at him, confused. "What makes you say that?"

"Would you be looking for Clockwork if you truly believed they were only dreams?"

:-=-:

Papers scattered across the Fenton's kitchen table, making Jazz frown in thought. She only had a few more weeks before the deadlines to accept and she still had no clue where she wanted to go to college in the fall. She had no idea how popular her ghost envy paper would be when she wrote it, but to get accepted to all the schools she applied to? She couldn't believe it. Then again, with the appearance of ghosts in the last year and a half, she assumed there were a lack of applicants in the field. Add her last name into it? Yale, Wisconsin, Cincinnati, Fort Eerie, Harvard came knocking at her door.

Jazz turned her attention to the one in her hand, the modest logo of Amity University staring back in the top left hand corner. It was the obvious choice – close to home, she could help out with the ghost fights, study with two pretty amazing scientists and would probably learn more about a ghost's psyche through her brother and his friends than any professor.

"Make a decision yet?" Jazz turned at her mother's voice. Maddie watched her daughter proudly from the top of the basement steps, a small smile on her face.

"No," Jazz whined, shaking her head. "I thought it would be easy to have all the choices laid out in front of me. It's pretty overwhelming."

Maddie nodded knowingly as she walked to the table to join her. "I remember that feeling. You know Jazz, there's not a wrong choice here. Each one of these schools will give you a top notch education. The question you should ask yourself is if you're really choosing the school that's best for you."

Jazz frowned. "Of course I'm picking the best school for me. I'm the one choosing!"

Maddie raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Then why do you have all these letters on the table, but one in your hand?" Jazz looked down at the letter in her hand with wide eyes. "Sweetheart," Maddie said gently, "While I'd love for you to stay here with us, you need to do what's best for you. You're smart, capable and all of these institutions want your brilliance. Don't choose what you think is best for us. We want you to be happy. Danny included."

Jazz sighed. "I know," she said softly. "Danny's said the same thing. I just… I don't want to miss anything. I worry."

"Didn't you argue that your brother is more capable than we give him credit for?" Maddie asked skeptically.

"Well… yes," Jazz agreed.

"And wasn't a large reason you didn't want to leave was cause you were worried about Danny not confiding in us readily?"

"Yeah, I mean, he usually keeps things close to the vest-"

"And that you're just making all these excuses because you're trying to avoid how scared you are to leave?"

Jazz sighed. She looked at the letter to Yale and then back to Amity University, conflicted. "What if I deferred a year? Learned a bit more about the family business?"

Maddie sighed, then smiled gently at her daughter. "Choose your own path Jazz; we'll support you no matter what." Jazz smiled back and engulfed her mother in a hug.

They broke apart as Danny flew through the floor and landed on the kitchen floor with a soft thud. "Again?" Danny joked, looking at the table full of acceptance letters and mirroring the tone she had used the day before.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Jazz said deadpanned. Danny transformed into his human self and walked over to the table, looking over his sister's and mother's shoulders. "Where were you anyway?"

Danny shrugged, eyes darting across the table. "Fort Eerie too? Wow Jazz, that's amazing!" he congratulated. Jazz beamed at her brother. "I was in the Ghost Zone."

That got the attention of both Fenton women. "I didn't know you were going there today?" Jazz said.

"Did something happen?" Maddie asked, confused. "Your next training session with Ethelwulf is next week isn't it?"

Danny shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he assured with a smile. "Went to visit a friend, but he wasn't home. Stopped to chat with Frostbite instead."

"How is Frostbite?" Maddie asked. She had only met the yeti ghost once, after Jack insisted on doing an ice training session in the basement. It took a week for everything to defrost.

"He's good, didn't chat much about him though," Danny said, frowning slightly in anticipation. "I mentioned the dreams to him. Wasn't much help but he gave me something to think about."

Jazz turned to him expectantly. "Which was?"

"Just to trust my instincts," he told them. "Said it wasn't good to dwell on what could have been or what will be and just trust myself. Gonna mention them to Ethelwulf next week if I can't see Clockwork." He turned back to the table full of paper. "Speaking of could haves, have you picked one yet? The suspense is killing me."

Jazz simply glared at her little brother. "No," she retorted, choosing to ignore his pun. "But I love the pressure you're putting on me. A real motivational speech."

Danny picked up the letter from Yale and handed it to his sister with a sigh. "I would have thought it was a no brainer," he said, giving her the piece of paper. "It's always been your dream to go to Yale. There's nothing stopping you! Just say yes."

Jazz smiled softly at her brother as she locked eyes with Maddie. Their mother nodded encouragingly at her as she looked at the two sheets of paper in front of her. "Thanks," she said to both of them.

Danny hugged his sister tightly before transforming back to his ghost half. "I promised Sam and Tuck I'd meet them after I visited Frostbite – you mind if I miss dinner Mom?"

"Just don't be out too late Danny," Maddie reminded him. With a small wave indicated he heard her, he went intangible, flew up and out of the house. Maddie chuckled softly and shook her head. "That boy never sits still."

Jazz watched her brother go with a smile, before looking down at her hands once more. She was ready to make the decision. She looked back to the table and sighed as she glanced at her choices again. Maybe.

:-=-:

He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about – it was lovely and warm - but he was very aware when it shifted. Danny fell with a thud, ungracefully hitting the ground face first. Groaning, Danny looked around in the darkness around him. "Ow," he muttered, picking himself up from the ground. It was pitch black…the only other light source coming from…

"Phantom?" Danny asked, spotting his ghost half sprawled out in front of him. The ghost in front of him opened his green eyes quickly and scrambled upright, staring back into the blue eyes of Danny Fenton.

"Fenton?"

"What are you doing here?!" they asked at the same time. Phantom groaned in annoyance.

"Here we go again. Mindscape?" he asked, looking around.

"Looks like it," Danny agreed. "But why now? Last thing I remember, I was very much asleep."

Phantom nodded. "Could be a dream?" he speculated.

Danny shook his head. "Doubtful, I definitely feel awake. So why are we here?" Fenton waited expectantly as Phantom looked around. The white haired ghost sighed exasperatedly as he crossed his arms.

"No idea."

"Great," Danny replied drily. "Just what I need; you annoying me while I'm awake and while asleep."

Phantom scoffed. "Like we have any time for that," he said with a frown. Phantom lit up a hand with green ecto-energy, trying to illuminate their surroundings a little more. There was nothing else there. "Our core must have split us for a reason," he said. "The last time we were here, we were using too much raw energy on the shields."

Danny frowned. "But we aren't using any energy now," he said. "Raw or otherwise. We're asleep. We're not using-" Danny trailed off, realizing what he was saying. He turned to Phantom, deadpanned. "Oh hell."

"What?" Phantom asked. It took him a second before he realized it too. "Damn," he swore. "I guess Frostbite was right."

The world lit up around them, various images and battles swirling around as if they were in the eye of the hurricane. When the images settled, both teens found themselves in a large tower, with many clocks and gears hanging from the green castles. Viewing screens with similar images of the battles they had just witnessed danced across it, giving a more ominous presence to their new setting. The sounds of many ticking clocks worked overhead.

"Clockwork's tower?" Danny questioned, looking around the room. Phantom walked around, observing their surroundings. Danny followed suit, exploring what he remembered from the last time here was here. The walls were bare; where many time medallions hung now was empty at the top of the tower. "The medallions are gone."

"No sign of Clockwork either," Phantom called back. "Wonder where he-" Phantom cut himself off, gasping. "Fenton, back up. Slowly."

Noticing the quick change in tone, Danny turned to Phantom in confusion. The ghost was staring at something in his direction with a hard glare. His body was ridged, almost on edge; Danny could feel the anxiety building up within him. Turning back, he gasped as he saw it; the old thermos, battered, dented and most noticeably - cracked.

Danny took a couple steps backward to be side by side with his ghost half. "This can't be real," he whispered in horror.

"Can't it?" Phantom quipped back. "We knew Clockwork had the thermos; Clockwork never told us what he did with it."

"But he just left it there. All this time?"

The thermos rattled, making both boys jump in response. Another crack appeared, this time going down the centre of the thermos. It hissed as a blue light shone from within.

"No," Phantom whispered in dread.

"We gotta go," Danny said, worriedly. "Dream or not, this isn't going to end well if we start fighting."

"We need to know," Phantom argued back. "Frostbite said to trust our powers; we need to know if this is real." Danny felt the onslaught of emotions coming from his ghost half and realized that he was right; if this was a new power, they needed to know if they could trust it.

Danny swallowed as the thermos crackled this time. After a few tense moments, the thermos exploded in a whirl of white and green flames. Phantom quickly put a shield around the two teens, still waiting in anticipation for what was to come.

Danny?

The light from the explosion was blinding even through the shield. By the time it died down, Danny blinked back stars to see the figure in front of him.

Danny!

His white and black cape billowed around the flames as white boots touched the ground. Flaming white hair ignited menacingly as Dan Phantom walked out of the flames, laughing. His red eyes turned to the two wide eyed teens under the shield, a sadistic grin plastered across his face.

Danny, wake up!

"Hello Danny," Dan drawled, raising his hand toward the shield, lighting it with green ecto-energy. "And goodbye." The ectoblast hit the shield and the world exploded with pain. A scream… or was that his scream? The pain was getting almost unbearable. It was almost as if his core was imploding…

They were fighting now, the wails colliding bouncing off each other as they were locked in combat. He felt himself fading but there was no way of knowing for sure…

Son! You need to wake up!

He was tired… run ragged from the battles before. Whatever he managed to heal was definitely not healed anymore. The raw energy in front of him flowed through his veins as it battled against the dark red eyes of his worst enemy. It intensified now, all consuming. He couldn't take it….

:-=-:

Danny sprung upright, eyes shooting open and gasping for air. He's out. He's back. There was a loud clattering noise around him and jumped, hitting whoever was shaking his shoulders in the chest. They put the arms around him tighter. Thinking he was still in danger, Danny tried to transform, but nothing happened, his panicked breathing getting quicker.

"Danny it's me," his father whisper shouted, trying to get Danny to look at him. "It's okay, it's just me."

Above the sound of his breathing, Danny relaxed slightly as he heard his father's voice. Jack breathed with him, trying to get him to calm down. They sat there for a few minutes before Jack spoke again.

"I came to check on you," Jack said quietly, watching Danny apprehensively as he continued to stare wide eyes at the wall gasping for air. "You were making things float around the room, kiddo. It took me a while to wake you. Must have been some dream."

Danny shook his head and swallowed. "That," he said breathlessly, "Was no dream." He pushed away from his dad's grasp as he got out of bed. He was halfway across the room when he tried to transform again. It failed again, this time sending a series of white sparks through his form, causing the boy to fall with a shout.

"Danny!" Jack yelled running to his side. "What's wrong?"

Danny shook his head again. Gritting his teeth, he focused his energy and finally transformed through the sparks into his ghost half. He heard his father yell for Maddie and Jazz, but Danny could only focus on one thing. He's back. Protect the town. He flew up to the Ops Center, ignoring the cries from his father as he left. Protect your home.

Standing at the edge of the Ops Center, Danny stood firmly in place, ignoring the sparks coming from his core. Protect the town. Focusing on the energy within him, his right eye turned blue as an emblem of light appeared at his feet, his logo shining brightly beneath him. The light turned green as energy shot out from the circle. His body glowed as energy flew straight up out into the air. Hitting its mark in the sky, the energy started to encase the town, creating a large dome overtop. The dome continued, widening to the limits of the town. The circle at his feet connected with the dome overhead, trapping the town inside. Danny continued to pour as much energy as he could into the shield, until finally he faltered backwards and collapsed onto his knees, panting from the effort.

He's back. Dannyheard his family shouting for him as they reached the top of the Ops Center. Stamina finally giving in, Danny reverted back to his human self as they came around him.

His father came in front of him, kneeling down and locking eyes with him. "Danny," he said with concern. "What is it? What did you see?"

Still panting, Danny turned to his sister, who looked at him with fearful eyes. "He's out," he whispered hoarsely; dread pooling in the bottom of his stomach as the reality of his words finally sank in.

Jazz gasped, their parents looking at their children in alarm and concern.

"Who's out?" Maddie demanded. "Danny what are you talking about!?"

"Danny, are you sure?" Jazz asked worriedly. "Couldn't this all be a-"

"No," he grunted. White sparks again awakened at his chest. He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to weather the overuse of his powers to explain. They were all in danger. "He's back Jazz. He's coming." More sparks went through the boy's frame making Danny groan in pain. He tried to battle through it, but eventually Danny pitched forward into Jack's arms, unconscious.

First

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[writefinch]

Cheerleader Ransom Pt.2

(CN: noncon, bondage, M+f, facefucking, cum swallowing, cum bringing-back-up)

The second day's video began with a shot of Hannah kneeling with her back against a steel pole, her ankles, wrists, and elbows strapped together behind it. She still wore her tattered and cum-stained OSU cheerleading uniform, torn where the men had roughly pulled it away to grope her tits and groin, her skirt hiked high to show the tray of rice under her bare knees.

The rubber hood was gone, and her face was free of both makeup and bodily fluids. Her wringing-wet hair and pale skin indicated that she'd either had a bucket of water thrown over her head, or her head shoved into a bucket until she was somewhat cleaner. The tops of her cheeks bulged out under tightly-wrapped black bandages, securing some kind of gag in her mouth.

The leader stepped into frame and patted her head. "Morning, Rob. We hosed her down before we started shooting. Sorry if you wanted to see what she looked like when we took the hood off. She looked real miserable with all that half-dried spit and spunk on her face, but we didn't want to grab onto her head with it all sticky and slimy and to be honest she kinda stank.

"Like I said yesterday, Day Two is where the fucking starts. Today we're taking a crack at her mouth, so if you really crap a miracle and get our money together you might be able to keep her cunt in a somewhat-virginal state. Then again, you're seeing these tapes almost a day late, so by the time you watch this, I'll probably be balls deep in your daughter's gash, not that I'm complaining..."

Reaching down, he unwrapped the bandages around her face and revealed a ring gag underneath. He stuck his fingers into her mouth and pulled two spit-soaked knee-high socks from her mouth. She coughed and took a deep, steady breath, but flinched as he stroked her cheek, drool running out of the gag and down her chin.

The leader then took out a strange device, a stretchy ring of neon-pink silicone that resembled a headband, with a disc-shaped bulge protruding from one part. He stretched the ring and pulled it over Hannah's head, where the silicone band fitted neatly over the strap of the ring gag, and the protrusion fit through the ring of the gag like a plug in a sink. The camera zoomed in on the object now over her mouth: a piece of soft plastic shaped in a realistic imitation of a vagina. The leader ran his fingers up and down the plastic lips before pushing them into the cleft; Hannah's eyes went wide and she gagged. When he withdrew his fingers, they came out covered in spit, which he wiped off on her face.

"Do you like it, Rob? We're using her mouth as a fleshlight today so we thought we'd make it look like the real thing. We don't trust her to suck out cocks yet, and I'd hate to have to remove all those shiny white teeth with a set of pliers just because she tried biting—you paid a lot for the orthodontic work, after all. But we don't want to waste a day of training, after all, it's pretty easy if all she's doing is staying still and getting her mouth fucked. So we're going to give her a challenge in self-discipline. She's got to keep everything we feed her down, and if it comes back up, it goes back down again.

The leader smirked. "Of course there's only thirty of us, so by the time we're finished her stomach will barely be full, and where's the challenge in that? We're going to feed her something to get started."

He reached his hand out of shot, and it returned holding an enema syringe filled with a pint of opaque, off-white fluid. He screwed an attachment onto the end of the syringe: a four-inch long purple dildo, with a plastic knot bulging an inch from the base. When he applied a careful push to the plunger, dozens of tiny, milky-white beads welled up on the glans of the dildo, oozing out from pinprick holes in the silicone.

"Are you hungry, Hannah?"

Her garbled protestations that she was not earned her a firm slap. Another man came into frame, stood behind her, gripped her sodden hair with force and held her head straight while the leader pushed the dildo-syringe into her mouth. When the knot slipped between the silicone lips it formed a watertight seal, and as he depressed the plunger, her cheeks quickly bulged out.

He stuck a clothespin on her nose to prevent it from shooting up through her sinuses and said, "Cringe all you want, but if you don't start swallowing it'll go down your lungs, and you won't like that one bit, sweetheart."

With a defeated gulp, the first mouthful slid down her throat. He filled her cheeks again and forced her to swallow a second time. On the third swallow, he removed the clothespin and allowed her to take a few breaths. "We stole this yummy treat from a sperm bank near your college, maybe you'll recognize some of the donors?" She scrunched her eyes shut in disgust, but continued to swallow as he pumped the rest of it into her mouth. After ten gulps the syringe was empty, and a trail of sperm and spit hung between the tip of the dildo and the lips of the fake pussy.

The leader walked off-screen and returned a moment later having re-filled the syringe with another pint of fluid, the same colour but more watery. He held the tip of the dildo back against her gag, rubbing it up and down, taunting her. "Now, this pint came from a very different sperm bank to the other one," he said as he forced it into her mouth. "I'm sure you won't recognize it, but that Ashlynn girl who left the cheerleading squad last year after that hot little home video of hers got leaked, she might recognize it!"

Hannah's eyes went wide and she gave a muffled scream of revulsion and terror, but it was soon muted to a gurgle as the pressure within her mouth forced her to guzzle down the fluid. As she struggled, the man behind her strapped a plastic bucket to her chest and tied a wipe-clean silicone bib around her neck leading down into the bucket. When the leader finished feeding her, Hannah took deep, careful breaths with long pauses between them, obviously struggling to avoid throwing up.

The leader fished his half-hard cock out from his fly and gave it a few strokes until it was fully stiff, his foreskin sliding back and over the head, a bead of precum glistening at the very tip. "I've got first dibs and I don't want to keep the rest of the boys waiting, even if Blondie is there to entertain them."

The camera panned to the crowd of waiting kidnappers, thirty men in all-black clothes and black balaclavas. At the front of the pack, a fair-haired boy of barely twenty years was on his knees, stroking the cocks of two men, and pleasing a third with his mouth. His hair was tied back in uneven pigtails, which bobbed up and down in motion with his head. "He's a cutie," said the leader. "He tried ripping some guys off over an eight-hundred dollar weed deal, can you imagine that? We taught him a lesson, pretty similar to the one we're teaching your girl, but since he didn't have a rich daddy to bail him out, he's been turning tricks for us ever since. Usually he'd be on a street corner at this time of day, but we wanted to keep him here for cleanup."

He ambled up to Hannah and rested the tip of his cock against her plastic lips. "Hey, look up at me." With a whimper, she obeyed. He spat in her eye, and buried his cock in her mouth. "Eat a dick, bitch."

He fucked her face at a slow, careful pace, luxuriating in the involuntary movements of her tongue over his shaft, probing the back of her mouth until her resistance crumbled and his cock slipped into her throat. His pace grew, first enthusiastic and then frenetic until he came, his balls pressed to her chin and her nose buried in his wiry pubic hair. He gave a few more slow, careful strokes until his cock was no longer hard enough to easily push through the lips of the fleshlight and then pulled out entirely. As he did, a trickle of sperm ran out of the plastic vagina, dripped down onto the bib, and fell into the bucket below.

"See, wasn't that easy?" He patted the abject girl's hair. "Twenty-nine more to go and you'll be fine." He turned his head and shouted, "Blondie! Get your ass over here and clean me up."

As the leader walked out of shot, another man rushed past him and began raping Hannah's mouth. This one wasted no time with slow, testing strokes, instead grabbing her head in two massive hands and thrusting violently into her mouth. As his grunts of excitement grew in intensity, he pulled out so that only the tip remained in her mouth and stroked his shaft until he climaxed, forcing her to taste every drop of his sperm before swallowing it.

The third man made his introduction by slapping his thick, uncut, and obviously unclean cock on her face. He rubbed the tip under her nose, and as she began visibly dry-heaving, he pushed it in through the fleshlight and told her to start licking. Only once he was satisfied that she was trying to clean him with her tongue did he start thrusting, fucking her mouth as she twitched and whimpered before pressing in deep to cum down her throat. When he was spent, he pulled out but only until the head remained in her mouth.

For a moment, Hannah seemed to have calmed herself, staring forward into nothing and breathing deeply but steadily. Then, she shuddered. Her eyes scrunched shut. Her cheeks bulged.

A line of cum shot out of her nose.

The crowd of men hooted and laughed, and the one with his cock still resting in her mouth spat on her face again, and told her to swallow. Once the backwash slid back down her throat he pulled out, wiped his cock clean in his hand, and wiped his hand clean on her face.

The fourth kidnapper had a long, slender dick that easily slid down her throat in a single push, and after three thrusts it started bringing cum back up with it. The recycled semen spewed out between the lips of the fleshlight as he fucked her, running down her bib and into the bucket. He pulled out entirely to let more pour out, gripping her hair viciously as she retched and brought up more of the vile stuff from her belly, but when the flow trailed off there was barely a cup's worth in the bucket, so he thrust back in to make her bring up even more. By the time he finished cumming in her mouth, a pint of spewed-up cum sloshed around in the bottom of the bucket.

The next man shoved the dildo attachment into her mouth, detached the syringe, filled it with the contents of the bucket, and pumped the mess back into her mouth. Hannah wailed in despair and disgust as she was forced to drink down the sour cocktail of cum, spit, and bile. As soon as he removed the dildo out she threw up again, but he was so impatient and horny that he ignored it and pushed his cock into the cum-spewing gag. He had more self-restraint than the previous men, raping her throat methodically and carefully, firmly pushing his cock inside inch by inch until her lips were crushed into his pubic bone and then pulling his entire length back out in a lightning-fast stroke, alternating firm, grinding, balls-deep plunges with rapid-fire tonsil-bruising twitch-thrusts, pausing every time that she could no longer contain her retching to allow the white slime to pour out from her gag into the bucket. His only goal seemed to be to empty out her stomach more thoroughly than the previous men, and he didn't cum in her mouth until most of the two pints were in the bucket. He slapped her belly a few times, hard enough to leave pale-pink handprints. Another man approached with the syringe in hand, and she was fed the cum a third time before the next man started.

The men were now so horny that they stopped feeding her after each man, instead following one after another. In the whole time between the fifth and the fifteenth man raping her face, Hannah's mouth was free from cock for less than a minute of it. When the twentieth man finished with her, they forced the contents of the bucket down her gullet again. When she'd swallowed it all, they left the dildo in her mouth to prevent her from immediately throwing it all back up.

The camera panned to show Blondie entertaining the men, licking clean the last man to have used Hannah, stroking the cocks of two men who were waiting, and getting fucked in his ass by another man. The man fucking his ass pulled out, walked over to Hannah, and stuck his ass-and-lube-flavored dick in her mouth.

The leader laughed from out of frame. "Hah! Bet that one tastes good, huh?"

She was barely conscious as the last ten men used her, taking breaks to allow her to breathe, slapping her and holding smelling salts under her nose when she passed out, brutally fucking her mouth the second she snapped upright in pain. Her stomach was near-empty when the thirtieth man finished with her and her retching brought up nothing, but the leader stepped up and raped her throat again to ensure they'd got it all up. He pulled out entirely to jerk off on her face, which slid off the mess of spit, tears and cum, directly into the slop-bucket below.

The men ungagged her and untied her arms. Her jaw hung open, every testing movement causing her to flinch in pain, and her hands twitched and flexed weakly. When the leader leaned down to speak into her ear, she didn't have the strength to shy away.

"Look at you, champ," he said. "Not many girls can blow thirty men in a sitting, especially not on their first time. You made us all very happy, and you're going to make us happy tomorrow, and the day after, and you'll keep making us happy until your daddy pays up. But that's not important, what's important is that you need to rest up, maybe even in a bed. You need to eat some real food, drink some water, and stretch out on a cot without all these nasty straps and ropes. Would you like that?"

She nodded weakly. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was too raw, and all that came out was a raspy sob.

The leader took her hands in his and carefully, gently, pressed them to the sides of the bucket. "All you need to do," he whispered, "is drink the slop bucket. On your own, no one forcing you. I'll hold the bottom so you don't drop it, but you've got to drink it all by yourself, like a big girl. Just do this and you get to rest until tomorrow, do you understand?"

Hannah looked as if she was about to cry, but no tears came. The leader stroked her hair. "You'll be fine, I promise, there's nothing in that bucket that hasn't been in your tummy already. Just don't wait too long, I don't want my boys to get too excited and want another go."

Her arms were too weak to lift the bucket, but she steered it as the leader held it, and she began to drink. Her face went from bleak acceptance as she opened her mouth to swallow, to sheer disgust after one mouthful, cringing harder as she swallowed again, and a third time, and a fifth time. Her cheeks bulged from the last mouthful, but this time she did not swallow it down. The men around her oohed and aahed in mock-anticipation, she steeled herself to gulp, her gullet moved—

She vomited the moment the bucket hit the floor, the leader steadying it to avoid spilling it entirely. All the men laughed, and the leader cooed in mock-sympathy.

"Okay, maybe you'll need a few tries to get it right, but don't worry, you've got all night to keep trying." He stood up and looked directly into the camera. "Hey Robert, I don't want you to get bored so I'll end the tape now. Sorry if you wanted to see the whole thing, but hey, tomorrow you'll get to watch us break in her tight little snatch!"

The video picked up the sound of Hannah dry-heaving before cutting to black.

(Part 3 here: https://writefinch.tumblr.com/post/649254383657287680/cheerleader-ransom-pt3-cn-noncon-bondage) 

[whaleblouse93]

Hifu Lifting Therapy

Hifu Facial & Body Contouring Therapies

Content

Opening Up Times.

Mini Facelift Surgical Procedure

Clearlift Laser Facelift.

That Should Prevent Having This Treatment?

Plus, long-lasting results can be accomplished after just 4 or five sessions. Semi-permanent make-up isn't nearly tinting eyelashes and brows. It can likewise be used to help re-define attributes by including colour and also developing highlights as well as darkness. The therapy entails making use of computerised innovation to find an all-natural colour fit to the patient's skin tone.

How much does HIFU prostate treatment cost?

As many of our patients are self-funded, we have made sure that HIFU is priced as affordably as possible, at a total cost of £13,000 for treatment, medication, and aftercare.

Basically, as you grow older, your skin loses collagen as well as consequently ends up being less supple and company, bring about creases and so on . Aesthetic acupuncture jobs by promoting the manufacturing of collagen in your skin. Typically a course of 10 treatments are required for the optimim results to be achieved. Regular monthly upkeep sees tp the hair salon are advised to maintain the much more younger, fresher as well as healthier appearance that your face will certainly have come to be accustomed to Generally a training course of 10 therapies are needed for the optimal outcomes to be attained.

Opening Times.

It is not uncommon to experience mild swelling for a couple of days adhering to the treatment or tingling/tenderness to the touch for a few days to weeks following the procedure, however these are moderate as well as temporary in nature. There is the possibility of various other much less typical post-procedural impacts, such as momentary small areas of bruising or pins and needles, which your medical professional will certainly examine with you.

This can trigger specific problem around the jawline or jowls, the neck and brow area; ageing you past your years.

Due to its distinctly created transducer system clients frequently feel marginal pain throughout the treatment.

Ultraformer III has been called the comfortable alternative to surgical treatment and also Ultherapy.

Upper internal upper legs where tissue and fat wobbles with lumps including soft lax skin.

The face, neck and also décolletage begin to lose tone and also flexibility as well as you frequently notice your skin ending up being looser or start to droop.

Therefore item security, physician training as well as product innovation are critical to making sure that patients are getting the outcomes they want. hifu facial Melksham is a deeply nourishing treatment that hydrates and also tones. The Hydro Mask is infused with collagen, hyaluronic acid as well as climbed water to deeply nurture and also deliver a surge of wetness to the skin that will relieve and calm any type of skin redness and also irritability. Results show up, corrective, durable, as well as accomplished with pioneering methods that are safe and also non-invasive.

Mini Facelift Surgical Procedure

Ultherapy is the only nonsurgical skin rejuvenation treatment that can specifically target as well as reinforce the deep fundamental layer of tissue that physicians address in surgical procedure. The capacity to treat not just the skin yet its hidden assistance, from the inside out, aids to guarantee both secure as well as enjoyable results, without downtime. There isn't a replacement for the remarkable effects of surgery, yet Ultherapy supplies a natural, 'no downtime' strategy to noticeably enhancing lax skin. Ulthera is the first as well as only tool ever before to gain FDA approval for non-surgical face lifting. It's ideal at training and developing the dewlap location as well as jaw line, raising the brow and hiding excess skin on the upper eyelids.

Regular monthly maintenance check outs to the hair salon are suggested to keep the more vibrant, fresher and much healthier look that your face will have become familiar with. The Dermalift Microface therapy utilizes microcurrent innovation to deliver timed pulses and regularities of a details selected wave-form which is after that delicately used through specially created facial probes. A shape thread facelift is an efficient choice to a regular facelift as it does not call for surgical treatment and also is minimally intrusive. Shape Soft ® is meant to be made use of for face reconstruction in the therapy, as an example, of facial lipoatrophy, or morphological crookedness. Shape Soft ® is a resorbable clean and sterile implantable single-use gadget planned for grown-up people as well as is used in numerous pairs to provide for altitude as well as compression of face as well as neck cells. Patients are remaining to expect more natural, longer lasting results whilst doctors are searching for the most recent treatment developments to please their person's growing needs.

Clearlift Laser Facelift.

It can be especially helpful around the lower location of the face where a typical facelift could not always accomplish the desired outcomes. There are various surgical techniques when it comes to a facelift. The MACS facelift is a full facelift, nevertheless there are various other choices such as the one-stitch facelift. Despite spire aesthetics hifu facial app , the surgery involves more than just one stitch, though far less than a complete lift, and typically takes just one to two hrs. The technology behind Sciton treatments permit exact application as well as depth and leave boring, old and wrinkly, irregular skin looking fresher, smoother and also invigorated. 4 to five sessions may be required and treatment can be managed reliant upon the patient's wanted outcome and additionally their resistance for downtime.

The Nuts & Bolts of High Intensity Focal Ultrasound - OncoZine

The Nuts & Bolts of High Intensity Focal Ultrasound.

Posted: Fri, 10 Jan 2020 08:00:00 GMT [source]

Unlike more common thermal lasers, i-Lipo uses a reduced degree laser for a gentler therapy. Exercise is advised adhering to the treatment in order to metabolise freshly launched fatty acids. Irregular skin surface and face scarring can make you really feel awkward as well as add years to your appearance. Fraxel is a secure, efficient way to treat these troubles and can be tailored to target specific concerns. The one-stitch facelift, or miniature facelift, is usually done under a general anaesthetic and consequently needs some downtime adhering to the surgical treatment. Nonetheless, it's an perfect primary step if you're thinking about a complete facelift, plus it's a fantastic selection if you think your cheeks and jowls need just a minor tightening up and training.

Known for its non-surgical renovations CACI therapy systems have actually gone to the leading edge of visual therapy innovation for over two decades. The brand is relied on around the world and also counts among its followers Jennifer Lopez, Kim Kardashian as well as Jennifer Anniston. We recognize dedicating to a program of particular facials might not be for everybody so our pick as well as mix therapies allow you to decide and example the treatments. Utilizing hyaluronic acid - which holds 1000 times its own weight in water as well as utilizing the environ device to actually permeate the skins barrier. This will drastically lower fine lines caused by dehydration, boost plumpness as well as bring malleability back in your skin. Although they both make use of Platelet Abundant Plasma, these are 2 different therapies. The distinction in between the 2 is the truth that the Vampire Facial makes use of a microneedling gadget in order to invigorate the skin.

Specialists additionally forecast that fat removal innovation will certainly advance even more, with non-invasive alternatives currently offered and experts worldwide consistently developing originalities. 3D liposuction as well as i-Lipo therapies are readily available currently, making use of a variety of strategies as well as technologies to target fat removal, cellulite and skin tightening.

The therapy has been attempted, evaluated and has created results considering that being presented to the United States over ten years back. spire aesthetics Hifu colleagen lift Gosport is packed with essential features assists liquify fat in the manner in which it would certainly throughout natural weight reduction and also for that reason has very couple of side effects on the remainder of the body.

Is HIFU FDA approved?

High-Intensity Focused Ultrasound or HIFU is an FDA-approved, minimally invasive procedure for the treatment of prostate cancer that offers personalized treatment and dramatically reduced side effects.

[debiteful]

Faith, Trust, and a Pixie

Jameson goes to a high-end restaurant, Fair Folk Fare, known for its special desserts.

Content warnings: foodplay, size difference, mouth play, fear of digestion, unwilling prey, Male pred, genderless prey, lycanthrope, fairy, monster world

Roughly 1.3k words if that has any meaning to anyone.

Jameson strode in confidently. It was his first time here, but you wouldn't guess it just by looking at him. His head was held high, long loosely curled hair narrowly missing his broad shoulders- it was almost mane-like in appearance. He was dressed in a well tailored suit. Every inch of him spoke of power. The vampire waitress had seen her fair share of intimidating creatures, so she had a level, vaguely friendly face as she led him to a table.

He settled down, alone tonight. He often preferred to be alone, at least in this form. On brightly lit nights, he relished the company of his pack. Today, he had no interest in such things.

When dessert finally rolled around, he pulled his waitress aside and murmured, "I hear there's a section of the menu that adds a little magic to your dessert." He gave her a wolfish grin and she smiled knowingly before scurrying off.

She returned only a short while later with a special menu card. It was much the same as the normal dessert card, but there were add-ons in brightly coloured text beneath many of the desserts. He perused it casually, then waved her back over. "I'll get the caramel brownie a la mode, with a little magic on top," he said with a relaxed smile. She nodded and cleared away the remains of his meal.

He waited patiently, and it wasn't long before a bowl was brought before him. Two glistening scoops of icecream flanked a large brownie. Caramel sauce was striped across the entire affair. He furrowed his brow and poked at it with his spoon. He smiled again as he pulled the brownie away from the ice cream a little. Nestled between them was a small fairy, wings stuck to the melting ice cream and brownie pinning its legs. It looked up at him with wide eyes. Caramel streaked through its hair and across its face and body too. This place was just as advertised.

He started with the brownie, scooping up large chunks of the chewy chocolate treat, sometimes scraping a little ice cream off to go with it. He finished the brownie and a scoop of ice cream, leaving only the trembling fairy and the scoop it was seemingly stuck to. He grinned and leaned in close before poking it with his spoon.

"Enjoying the show?" He growled softly.

The fairy screwed its eyes shut and whimpered. He sat back up and took a spoonful of ice cream, inspecting it carefully. Then he stuck his tongue out and slowly licked the spoon clean in clear view of the fairy. Its eyes were wide and it was clearly shivering.

He looked at it with a sarcastically sympathetic smile, "Chilly? I can certainly warm you up. I saved the best little bite for last."

He slowly lowered his spoon straight down, scraping up the section of ice cream its wings were stuck to as well. The fairy watched with wide eyes as he opened his mouth wide, wet, pink tongue sticking out just a little to receive the tip of the spoon before he slid it into his mouth entirely. His warm breath washed over the fairy and it watched in horror as he mouth closed around the spoon, and itself. Then, the spoon slid out, leaving only the fairy and melted ice cream in his mouth.

He swallowed a little; the fairy felt his tongue shift, relieved to be on the mouth side of it for now. It was incredibly warm in his mouth, wet too. His tongue pushed against the fairy, pinning it up against his hard pallet as his tongue rubbed at his morsel of dessert, intent on working off that sweet caramel sauce. By now the fairy had warmed enough to be able to move and move it did. It wriggled and tried to push his powerful tongue away. He made a soft surprised sound, though it was like a roar to the little fairy's ears.

His tongue shoved the fairy's delicate body to one side, pinning it against his teeth. It pushed at his gums and kicked its legs, but it was no use. His jaws parted just a little and a foolish spark of hope flared in the sweet fairy's chest. It was quickly extinguished as the tongue wedged its body between his smooth, wet cheek and his hard teeth. They moved up and down and he spoke. The fairy cared not for the language of monsters; it could understand, but it didn't listen. There were more important things to do, like trying to calm this panic.

The fairy began to think. Why hadn't he swallowed yet? This was a new level of sadism, at least from the stories they'd heard. Maybe he was one of the high rollers. No fairy came back from a plate ordered by them. They whimpered and almost immediately the tongue poked at them.

"Hush," he growled, shockingly soft compared to the other sounds he'd made. The fairy compiled for now, confusion more than obedience driving it.

Its sense of equilibrium told it that the monster was on the move. Dread filled the tiny fairy and fueled a new struggle. It punched at his cheek, it pushed against his teeth, it even tried to flutter its gossamer wings to make him uncomfortable. It couldn't keep it up for long though, they weren't given much to make energy. Soon, it fell into a sleep-like state.

It woke up to his tongue dragging it along his cheek. The tip curled around it and dragged it back into the middle of his mouth. The tongue curled as he leaned forward, keeping the fairy from tumbling too far forward too hard. Then, his jaws spread and his tongue went flat, letting the fairy fall against his lips. With a little puff of air, he spat it out into a soft cloth napkin.

The sounds here were strange to the fairy. The whole atmosphere was. They had never smelled any place like this; the lighting was all wrong. This wasn't the restaurant. Where had he taken them?

He closed the napkin around it and pressed gently to help it wick away the saliva. Then he opened it, looking down at the delicate fairy. It looked back at him with those same massive eyes, though now its brow was furrowed. Confusion perhaps?

"My name is Jameson. What is your name?" He asked softly. When the fairy remained silent, he probed, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

After a moment the fairy nodded, eyes narrowing.

"Well then, can you speak?"

The response came at an incredibly high frequency, "Not that monsters like you can hear."

"Oh," he paused a moment and took a deep breath, pushing down offence and summoning empathy, "I suppose I would seem a monster to you wouldn't I?"

He smiled grimly. The fairy was still staring, now in shock.

"This is all a bit much for you isn't it? Well I'd heard that place had this barbaric practice. I decided to see if it was true. I had no intention of eating you, though I will admit I did experience a primal sort of delight. Such things are not fitting for a civilized man, however. I have decided to grant you your freedom," he grinned and laid the napkin delicately on the coffee table before him.

The fairy looked around, seeing cushy giant furniture, a few doors, and many more decorations than the restaurant. His voice jolted them from their thoughts, "Well? Go on and fly," he urged.

They looked at him and sat on the napkin with a tiny sigh. They mustered their strength, "I can't. We aren't born able to do that. They're strictly there for the monsters pleasure." They spat the last few words.

"Oh," he looked at them softly, considering his options. After a few long moments he smiled, "Why don't you stay here with me then? I can arrange all the accommodations and keep you safe. Now, before you protest, I had the option to kill you once and I didn't. I swear it was solely for your protection."

The fairy nodded. It was settled then.

[yamatokasukawaca]

Scientific research As a Media Occasion

One need not make any type of extensive surveys of different media to give evidence for this failing. It is enough to see how sporting activities has actually managed to get more insurance coverage in numerous media over the last couple of years vis-a-vis science. One may argue that this is so due to the fact that there are always some sports events occurring around the world which naturally attract the interest of media. Yet contention here is that clinical activity, clinical neighborhood as well as laboratories all over the globe can additionally be become what are called 'media occasions' if enough discomforts are taken by science communicators to accomplish this status for scientific research. Most importantly it will require the optimum cooperation of researchers.

  For instance, wedding anniversaries of researchers, institutes, organisations as well as societies, including the World Health and wellness Day, and so on, can be celebrated; discussions as well as debates with the concerned researchers arranged; and doors of worried labs as well as organisations tossed available to masses as well as media.

  All the same, intention through this paper is to highlight the essentials as well as restrictions of science popularisation to ensure that there shows up a basic adjustment in the way of considering this subject. With any luck, it will certainly cause a lot more reliable strategies to popularise scientific research among the masses.

  Science writing is an art

  Science popularisation is mostly done by scientific research- trained individuals as well as specialist scientists. It is as a result looked upon much more as a clinical activity as opposed to anything else. But scientific research writing is even more of an art instead of a science. It is clinical only in the feeling one should have clinical knowledge yet all the creating capabilities are needed to make a great discussion of science. It is due to the present lack of emphasis on the art aspect of scientific research popularisation that this area of activity has actually suffered to day. Those few scientists or science-trained individuals that have consciously or subconsciously understood the art of science writing and have actually practised it, have actually just achieved success in popularising science.

Yamato Kasukawa

Scientific research is a human activity

  The 2nd reason that prominent scientific research does not tick with the masses is since it is not projected as a human task however a task of researchers that simply rely on the search for truth - as well as just truth! The human side of science is absolutely ignored in all prominent scientific research presentations. The follies and also prejudices of researchers, the emotional life of researchers, the illogical scenarios in which clinical job is often carried out and also explorations and also innovations made, etc., are on a regular basis purposely not highlighted being afraid that it would offer bad name to scientific research and also scientific research. Basically, the human face of scientific research or clinical study is frequently ignored in prominent scientific research discussions. There is consequently a solid demand to offer scientific research a human face. It would certainly not only mean adding human tales to prominent science presentations however also talking about truths in clinical study.

  Pointer of the iceberg discussion

  The third reason prominent science presentations frequently go broad off the mark and make the target market yawn as well as choose something else is the inability of science communicators to compare technological report creating and also preferred science writing, many thanks to their scientific training or history. They attempt to pack into a popular scientific research presentation as long as they know or discover a topic.

  In fact, prominent science presentation should be like the idea of the iceberg. It needs to nevertheless make one not only aware of the idea of the iceberg but additionally knowledgeable about the unseen majority of the iceberg drifting under the water. To put it simply, it must disclose little concerning scientific research however sufficient to make one realise the presence of that scientific research with its entire ramification. It ought to excite one's inquisitiveness enough so that one would love to probe additionally right into that scientific research. It ought to not always tell everything about a scientific research but at the same time it must not miss scientific research.

  Some vital observations

  The writer's experience with popularising scientific research over the years has required him to arrive at some proposes. They are just based upon experience and intuition. Any kind of research has actually not been conducted to back them up with realities and numbers. In fact, much research study is required to confirm or disprove them. If in situation they are shown, they can easily be called the 'Laws of Science Popularisation' because despite the most effective of our efforts we have actually not had the ability to popularise science the way we want amongst the masses. There must be some concealed laws regulating our initiatives to popularise scientific research. These postulates are specified as adheres to:

  Postulates of science popularisation

  1st: Just those elements of scientific research obtain focus in a society, which fit its goals or which inspire admiration.

  Second: A science communicator often tends to impose his/her limited concepts of scientific research, scientists as well as clinical research study upon the audience.

  Third: The amount of room allocated to science in various media of a country is the index of the quality of life of its ordinary resident.

  Fourth: The high quality of science communication or presentation in a country is directly symmetrical to the quality of scientific research generated in it.

  5th: To popularise scientific research is to humanize science.

  One can deduce specific things from these proposes. The very first postulate shows that people at big read scientific research since it offers their function or due to the fact that the topic is topical, thrilling or controversial or merely thrills their curiosity. A handful just read scientific research for the sake of expertise in itself. Much research study is required to determine those subjects to make sure that science could be better popularised. For example, health science and also environment rate of interest people at big, astronomy and also area interest them, Nobel Laureates, UFOs, and so on, are held in wonder by them.

  The 2nd propose threatens for science itself. Knowingly or unconsciously, the layman drinks the limited or narrow photo of scientific research, scientists and also society of science from the communicator, whether he be Jacob Bronowski or Peter Medawar. Ideas such as researchers are mad people or clinical study is yet an additional occupation are productions of scientific research communicators. That makes scientific research communicator a really accountable person.

  The third as well as 4th proposes are intuitive relationships in between two unrelated things or tasks. More research is needed to confirm or negate these 2 regulations by taking information from various countries. Nevertheless, one have to include below that in India we elevate a melee to boost scientific research coverage in our media at the initial available opportunity however it commonly comes to nothing. Additionally, while composing a prominent scientific research article on a subject one usually needs the help of a scientist doing research in that really subject. However in India the scientist of the worried topic is usually not available for assessment and because of this our writings do not have the required top quality, verve and also colour.

  The fifth, the last however not the least essential propose, though evident, reminds us that we should give scientific research a human face to make sure that masses are not worried of it. It is the fundamental objective of science popularisation

  Xmas tree of scientific research popularisation.

  The aim of attracting the 'Christmas tree of scientific research popularisation' is to illustrate the relevance of various media that take scientific research to the masses, though every tool has its own importance and also an essential role to play in communication. However unless a person climbs up the tree, as his/her interest in science is aroused or increased - simply put, unless one begins to read papers, magazines and after that books - she or he would certainly not have actually ended up being fully science literate.

  Always, the percentage of individuals reading publications would be very tiny as the top of a Christmas tree suggests. But it is a should to know this tree due to the fact that the duty of any kind of medium ought to not be underestimated and every tool ought to be offered equal significance simultaneously. As an example, if a trainee's rate of interest in scientific research is aroused by scientific research reasonable or 'Jatha' held in the community, it needs to be sustained and kept by wallpapers, newspapers and also even books; otherwise, one's passion would certainly flag as well as ultimately die. Other supplementing media ought to be provided to the student in type of public libraries, as an example. So, the Christmas tree of scientific research popularisation requires to be watered as well as tended carefully to generate a science literate culture.

[aniyanewjackson]

069 to support underprivileged kids in July

Just sit back, relax and enjoy browsing from your smartphone or laptop. Curiously, the largest company in Georgia isn't Coca Cola, but the Home Depot. It doesn't have to be a race," he says. In their association, BMW made a games auto show called the BMW i8, while Louis Vuitton outlined a selective, four piece set of bags and packs that fit consummately into the auto back package rack. Some stop at the next outlet along the row of businesses supplying luncheros, Mis Postres Bakery, for flan, arroz con leche, and pasteles de guayaba, or continue east, entering Los Vi Catering, where 130 different kinds of sandwiches await. Congrats to Virginia AND Auburn. Not only do they market their products with ease, they also promote goodwill and can often be seen offering customers free drinks, with the reward being the support of a good cause. "They all have their own personalities. 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While Aarav made his way to the car, Ibrahim had to navigate through a sea of young fans, eager to interact with him. Near the conclusion of this pursuit, one of our officers was struck while on foot by another responding officer in a squad car.. Promise Consulting, institut spcialis dans les tudes marketing et de consommation, a interrog son panel en ligne pour mesurer l'opinion des Franais POUR l'interdiction ou le maintien de l'utilisation du Lanceur de Balles de Dfense (LBD) dans le cadre des Manifestations et du Maintien de l'Ordre. In my current school, while the uniform may not be as bad as others (I'm not required to wear a blazer hoorah!) it is boooring. I propose that someone needs to assume a leadership role to facilitate an important discussion about creativity in the humanities. But Scientists Have New Evidence For TheoryMust Speak Out, Says Swimming Champion Who Filmed Sexual Abuse By CoachFull Text Of Ravish Kumar's Speech At Magsaysay Awards Lecture Series"Probe Agency Shouldn't Discriminate," Said Judge On Aircel Maxis CaseDelhi Man Allegedly Sets Motorbike On Fire After cheap yeezy shoes Police Issues FineP Chidambaram, In Tihar Jail, Starts Day With A Light Breakfast: Report.. The iPhone 7 also runs on the A10, so it about three years old. Also, the Classic Buckle will arrive in Spring Yellow, Electric Blue, and Soft Pink colour options.. Arsenal fought back from two goals down to salvage a 2 2 draw against Tottenham in a pulsating north London derby on Sunday which both sides will feel they should have won. Last month, BSNL brought a 25 percent cashback offer for subscribers picking up its annual and half yearly broadband plans. Working with a collection such as this is incredibly important if we are fake yeezys for kids to understand the reality of how we negotiate lived experience and exist as a society and as individuals.

[gta-5-cheats]

Black Panther Is the King of Marvel Movies

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Black Panther Is the King of Marvel Movies

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The title character of Black Panther – the first Marvel superhero film with an African-American lead – has a lot of problems, but the most personal and likely the most important one is that he doesn’t know how to lead his people. He wants to be a good king, but he doesn’t actually know what that entails. Everyone around him has stances of their own – which inform the kind of ruler he becomes over the course of the film – but he’s got to be the one to make the decisions at the end of the day.

For superhero films, which usually tend to be light-hearted affairs in order to appeal to as broad a base as possible, the presence of such thoughtful ideas goes against the grain. But it’s also what you should expect from director Ryan Coogler, whose previous features – the 2013 real-life-inspired Fruitvale Station about the shooting of an unarmed black man, and the 2015 Rocky spin-off Creed featuring the son of the Rocky’s rival – explored social and identity issues on a similar level.

Black Panther does have its comic-book moments for sure, but Coogler isn’t happy with just delivering an action-packed romp, visually-stunning landscapes, and sleek costumes, interspersed with moments of laughter. He wants Black Panther to be more, to stand for something more. And that’s why he keeps hitting the brakes whenever things start to get too superhero-y, and never in a bad way. It’s when the film pauses that it gets the time to talk about what it really wants to talk about.

  Coogler wants the hero and the story to feel consequential, and it’s also why Black Panther is different in tone from everything Marvel has been giving its fans recently. Where Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, and Thor: Ragnarok pushed the envelope in coming close to being superhero parodies, Coogler is happy to step back from that trend. That’s necessary considering what the film deals with – racism, colonialism, and isolationism among them – but that doesn’t keep it from having fun.

Set after the events of Captain America: Civil War, Black Panther sees T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) returning home to Wakanda, where he’ll be crowned king in the wake of his father’s, T’Chaka (John Kani), death. The fictional East African kingdom is a highly secretive nation, disguising itself as a primarily agrarian economy to the outside world to hide the real truth: it’s our planet’s only source of vibranium, a fictional metal that has allowed Wakanda to become highly advanced technologically, from Black Panther’s terrific suit to magnetically-levitated trains that zip through the capital.

All Wakandan kings have kept up that ruse throughout history, but that façade is threatened by black-market arms dealer Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis, in one of his rare roles that isn’t via motion capture), who had a brief appearance in Avengers: Age of Ultron. With help from Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens (Michael B. Jordan, who worked with Coogler on both Fruitvale Station, and Creed), a MIT-educated US black-ops soldier who’s got a big interest in everything Wakanda, Klaue steals an ancient artefact that’s made of vibranium, which attracts the interest of T’Challa.

Andy Serkis as Ulysses Klaue, and Martin Freeman as Everett K. Ross in a still from Black Panther Photo Credit: Marvel Studios

After getting word of Klaue setting up a buyer in Korea, the new king of Wakanda sets out with the leader of his special forces – the Dora Milaje – Okoye (Danai Gurira), and with his former lover and a spy, Nakia (Lupita Nyong’o). T’Challa’s younger sister, Shuri (Letitia Wright), wonders if it’s a good idea to take an ex on a mission, and she continues to be the film’s biggest comedic output throughout, apart from her role as the in-house technology expert. Think of her as James Bond’s Q, with a more hands-on approach.

In one memorable gimmick, Shuri drives a car across the streets of Busan while sitting in a vibranium chair and augmented-reality cockpit back home in Wakanda, though it’s slightly marred by the fact that it’s also a car product placement. The action scenes in Korea, especially the one shot in a lavish casino, are also the most high-concept and noticeable work of cinematographer Rachel Morrison – another previous collaborator of Coogler’s, on Fruitvale Station – as she moves the camera both horizontally and vertically, all in a single long take.

In other places, the action gets a boost from rampaging rhinos with vibranium armour, or when Black Panther is stripped of his powers, inevitably raising the stakes by making him vulnerable. The film’s true strength lies, however, in the efforts of Coogler and his co-writer Joe Robert Cole (American Crime Story) in humanising its super-powered lead, T’Challa, who’s filled with doubt and deeply conflicted. The changing times means he must take a more critical look at Wakandan traditions, but he’s unsure what the international exposure will mean for his people.

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Michael B. Jordan as Killmonger, and Chadwick Boseman as T’Challa in a still from Black Panther Photo Credit: Marvel Studios

Boseman plays him as a measured man who’s constantly fighting internally – Coogler has spoken about how identity issues were at the forefront when writing the film – but that’s not easy to translate on screen. That means it’s those around him who get to shine more, be it Gurira’s fearless Okoye showing all aspects of her fight training, Serkis’ cocky portrayal of Klaue making him a firecracker in his short role, Wright turning Shuri into a scene-stealer with her sarcasm and liveliness, and veterans such as Forest Whitaker (Rogue One) lending a sense of gravitas to the proceedings.

Despite everyone’s impressive work, Michael B. Jordan is a standout. As Killmonger, he oozes bucket loads of charisma and swagger, and thanks to the script, which gives him a relatable and emotionally tragic backstory, he’s able to add layers to his character that most Marvel villains severely lack. Having lived most of his life in America, where he’s witnessed people who look like him beaten down in every way, he blames Wakanda for not playing a bigger role, given the limitless power in its hands.

The argument proves to be convincing even for some in Black Panther’s closest circle, and it further bites into the questions and thorny issues that the film keeps getting at. When you’ve got the means to help others, and you close yourself in the name of protection, is that justified? Black Panther probes that in more ways than one right from the start, through the actions of T’Chaka, and Nakia, who’s been away for years to help people who aren’t as lucky as those in Wakanda.

Danai Gurira as Okoye, and Lupita Nyong’o as Nakia in a still from Black Panther Photo Credit: Marvel Studios

Black Panther is also smart enough to know there are no answers, and puts T’Challa – and the people of Wakanda – through the wringer to figure out the role of a well-off advanced nation ruled by a monarch that has historically preferred to look inward. But this is also where the film feels at its weakest, since it repeatedly side-steps the concept of monarchy itself, along with the emphasis on physical mettle in becoming the king of Wakanda.

A crucial part of Wakandan culture and rules of succession is ritual combat, whereby any Wakandan gets the chance to challenge the prince, in which the Black Panther is drained of his powers to prevent any unfair advantages. Black Panther does get a chance to poke fun at the ridiculousness of putting all power in the hands of one individual who’s proved his worth, but it doesn’t have the time to discuss and address these topics in a suitable way.

All the other moving elements are so effective though, that this is a minor disappointment that most wouldn’t even notice. Black Panther both looks and feels different from anything we’ve seen and heard in frankly most movies made in Hollywood. And that’s owing to its embrace and reliance on African culture and instruments, which makes the film instantly recognisable. If there was a tendency for Marvel movies to come from a cookie-cutter approach visually and aurally, then Black Panther puts a brief pause on that disappointment, though it’s unlikely to last long with Avengers: Infinity War on the horizon.

Letitia Wright as Shuri in a still from Black Panther Photo Credit: Marvel Studios

It’s strange that it’s taken this long for Marvel to release an all-black superhero film (and it’ll be yet another year before we get Marvel’s first female-led film; DC is much better in that regard) and hopefully the predicted box office revenue for Black Panther will quell studio executive’s fears that films with people of colour in the lead are not a financial risk, and that there are more audiences out there whose wait to see someone who looks like them take the superhero mantle, still continues.

Black Panther is a terrific success on its own, one that avoids the Marvel trap of unmemorable villains and generic soundtrack, and the superhero trope of sexualising female warriors. It tells a compelling story filled with three-dimensional characters, and in essence, packages an indie film with blockbuster wrapping. Coogler knows fully too well the reach of something like Black Panther, and he uses the Marvel canvas to paint a bigger – but more importantly, a powerful – picture.

Black Panther releases February 16 in India. There are two sequences during the credits, stay in your seat till the end.

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