#but the two sides still have to be approximately the same length

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I have assessed the situation and it might not be as bad as previously believed

[daisykihannie]

𝚂𝚠𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝙺.𝙷𝙹

Pairing: Hongjoong x afab!Reader

Warnings: Smut, nsfw, weird, established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, fluff, crack, body swapped, kind of self-sex?? etc.

A/N: My brain is running on approximately 3hrs of sleep and my brain had a blurb and i cannot go to sleep until i get this written. Also, i couldn’t decide who to write this for sooooo Hongjoongie it is<3

When you woke up this morning, you felt the weight of your boyfriend’s head on your chest. Apparently at some point in the night he started clinging to you instead of you clinging to him. You weren’t really sure how, why, or when the two of you swapped sides on the bed but he was now sleeping to the left of you.

Your eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep and you went to stretch just your legs a bit so that you wouldn’t move too much and wake him. Your foot collided with the wall, further proof that you were currently sleeping on Hongjoong’s side of the bed but why were you so cramped on a king sized bed?

Shaking off the compiling thoughts all correlating to your current position, you looked down to your chest, wanting to see how adorable he’d look clinging to you like a koala. Instead you were met with a mop of hair that was not your boyfriends. Actually it was your hair and your face and your body pressed against… Hongjoong’s body?

You were looking at your form on top of Hongjoong’s but from Hongjoong’s point of view. After who knows how long of just staring, your brain finally caught up and in the blink of an eye you were scrambling away from your body. You tripped over the covers you didn’t think to throw off first and landed hard on the floor before moving further away. You stared at the stirring figure in bed as you increased the distance between the two of you until your back collided with the full length mirror in the corner of your room that was pointed towards the bed.

“Mmmm” Hongjoong grumbled and sat up with a yawn, still not opening his eyes or- your eyes? You were far past the point of confusion and your brain was constantly misfiring while trying to comprehend your current situation.

Your boyfriend scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as he spoke, “What’s wrong?” his voice was low but it was significantly higher than normal considering it was actually your voice and not his. “Why do I sound-“ his sentence was cut off when he finally opened his eyes and looked at you and instead of seeing his partner, he was staring at himself and his partner was actually visible in the reflection of the mirror, staring back at him.

His eyes grow wide and they flicked back and forth between himself and the reflection in the mirror, his brain was probably going through the same agonizing misfiring as your own but neither of you were fully panicking for some reason. Had it not fully caught up with you two yet? Were you both too tired to care? No, you both cared, a lot really, but maybe it just wasn’t all that scary since you two were dating and have been together for years.

“D-did we- are you- am i-“ Hongjoong couldn’t finish a single string of words and his thoughts weren’t any better. You just nodded, wide eyes locked with the others as you both silently worked through everything in your heads. “We…” Hongjoong started. “Body… swapped…” you spoke for the first time, slightly jumping from the startling and unfamiliar bass in your voice. This is fucking insane.

“o…kay…” that single word that your boyfriend spoke was heavy and drawn out. The reality finally fully settling in now and you tried to get off the floor but your legs were far too weak to hold your weight, the adrenaline causing your knees to buckle and you fell back to the floor. Hongjoong, seeing you falling, moved to try and catch you but you met the floor first. His own knees buckled only a short distance from you as well, causing his knees to meet the floor harshly.

You both looked at each other and your non-functioning legs and you were the first one to start giggling, trying to hold them in but when Hongjoong burst into his own explosive fit of laughter, trying to hold them in was useless and you two were both giggling messes. After a long fit of laughing, you both ended up clutching your sides when they began to ache.

Hongjoong had your body doubled over the arm around his abdomen and you had Hongjoong’s body on its back on the floor, writhing around and kicking his legs. It took a minute of heavy breathing for you two to stop laughing and just looked at each other. Even though you were kind of looking at yourselves, that same expression full of love and adoration was visible in each other’s eyes.

“So um- Babe?” you called out and he tilted his head slightly to the side, showing he was listening. “Why is your dick hard?” you asked, a redness creeping up your neck. “Huh?” he asked and looked down at his body’s groin, momentarily forgetting that he didn’t have his dick anymore. “My body doesn’t have a dick.” you coo teasingly and Hongjoong looks to your body, seeing the tent that was obvious in the loose fitting plaid pajama pants he wore.

“Oh. I guess even with your brain, my body still reacts to you the same as if it was my brain in there.” he says and reaches forward to start stroking the hard-on you were sporting. Your body jolted away from his touch at the unfamiliar feeling, letting out a soft gasp. “Sorry- that felt… weird.” the blush that had settled into a soft pink was bright red again with embarrassment.

“It’s okay baby. How about i help you out yeah? Since it’s my cock, i know what feels good.” He suggested and you took a moment to think about it, cock twitching in excitement at the thought. “I have always wondered what you feel like when you fuck me…” you trailed off, looking away from your boyfriend who was still staring at you. “Oh? Well, i guess you finally get to find out.” his tone sensual but completely different than the low growl his own vocal cords normally took on.

He held his hand out to you so he could help you get to the bed. It was weird to be led to the bed by your slightly smaller body, to be dominated by yourself but kissing felt mostly the same considering you could close your eyes. But when your pants were removed and you felt that first stripe licked up the underside of your cock, you couldn’t help the deep guttural groan that escaped you. When warm lips wrapped around the head and a soft tongue was moving up and down in tandem with the plush pink muscle moving up and down your length, you couldn’t help the way your hips bucked and spasmed at the overwhelming feeling.

This was a completely different experience than getting head normally. Hongjoong knew what he was doing from learning what does and doesn’t feel good during blowjobs. He knew exactly what spots were most sensitive and made sure to focus on those. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was technically sucking his own cock which only helped him to fully fit into his role.

Once you felt a familiar knot begin forming in your lower stomach, the muscles of Hongjoong’s abs constricting ever so slightly and your moans growing more airy, he pulled off with a pop. You whined at the ruined orgasm but you knew that he only stopped because if you came now, you wouldn’t get to feel what it’s like for Hongjoong to fuck you.

After a few moments of the both of you breathing heavily, he was climbing up your body. He sat himself on your pelvis and pulled the pajama shorts, on his temporary body, to the side to expose your dripping cunt. He began to roll his hips over the expanse of his cock, fully drenching it in your fluids.

Neither of you could contain the soft, airy moans that left your throats at the new feeling. Once you were both well lubed with your fluids, he lifted his hips off your pelvis. He reached in front of himself to grab his cock and line it up with your hole. He lined it up and then took a deep breath, feeling nervous for the first time now that he realized he was about to be impaled by a cock.

His larger hands met the hip bones of your body and began to massage them soothingly. “Baby, remember that it’s my body. My body is comfortable taking your cock. It’s nothing new to the body you’re in so it’ll only feel good.” you reassured him and that seemed to help him a bit but he was still struggling to physically impale himself.

“Here, let me help.” you said and got a tighter grip on his hips, moving him just low enough for the tip to be inside so he wouldn’t have to hold his cock anymore. “You can let go now, grab my hands so you’re holding them.” you cooed and he did that, grabbing the backs of your hands that remain on his hips. Once his breathing calmed and he nodded softly, you began moving him further onto your cock.

He took it inch by inch, the stretch causing his jaw to go slack in a silent moan and his thighs began to quiver at the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was feeling. You weren’t really fairing much better, once your cock was buried to the hilt and Hongjoong was able to relax and just rest with your cock buried inside him, you felt his hole tensing over your length.

“oh- fuck. Is- is that what it- shit! f-feels like when- when my pussy f-f-flutters?” speaking was extra hard with the overwhelming, and very very new, sensations you were feeling. It was so wet, warm and tight inside of him. It was like your cock was wrapped in the softest, wettest, and somehow the most tingling sponges ever. It was heavenly.

He nodded and let out a shuddering breath. “I d-didn’t think about h-how every time we fuck… oh shit… your pussy m-muscles have to st-stretch like this…” he was not keeping his composure as well as he normally did. “F-feel good?” you ask, lungs still heaving but getting better. He nodded with his eyes still shut. “s-so fucking good.” he moaned out and did an experimental roll of his hips.

“Fuck… i’m not g-gonna last long Jagi…” he whimpered softly, voice cracking slightly. “I-it’s okay joonie… I’m n-not either.” you replied, a moan following as he began bouncing up and down despite his legs shaking. You grabbed his hips and held him in place an inch or two above your pelvis. You bent your knees to give yourself some leverage to move, “let me.” was all you said and Hongjoong was grateful for the offer because he was incredible sensitive everywhere and his brain was struggling.

You began to jack hammer into his body, the way you love being fucked the most, punching wanton moans from him and grunts from yourself. You were both crying out each others names and a lot of “Fuck”s,”shit”s, and ”oh my god”s. It didn’t take long for the knot in your abdomen to snap, slamming his smaller frame down hard on top of yourself as you spilled inside of him and his body began convulsing through its own orgasm.

After a few moments, both your bodies collapsed from exhaustion, his body becoming dead weight on top of yours while your cock was still buried inside him. At that moment it was like someone clapped and you were now on top of him, his cock buried inside you. “oh thank fuck-“ you groaned, feeling more at peace now that you were back in your own body.

“Holy fuck… we both had the most insane orgasms and we swap back… how fucked is that.” a spiteful chuckle left his chest after he finished speaking, both of you a bit too exhausted to care about anything more than being in your own bodies again and being held by the person who had become your home, in post orgasm bliss.

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm seeing a lot of asks about this and I want to give my two cents: I'm cool with Bruce being a bad father, but only if DC admits that he is a bad father.

You can't have him doing downright abusive shit only to never address it. The only character that consistently criticizes Bruce parenting is painted as entitled and vindictive. I genuinely think the reason why we can't have a decent Red Hood arc is because if you want Jason to make sense you're gonna have to admit Bruce is a fucked up father or rewrite canon.

Same reason for Tim "never aging", not so much physically but emotionally. Because to have the character establish itself like Nightwing did you would need to address at some point all the bullshit he went through. Even with Dick. Like sometimes it looks like they want to recognize how being raised by Batman fucked him up by they end up settling for "oh it's the pressure". Like that's the most DC will say "Batman puts his kids under a lot of pressure buuuuuut it's justified because they're fighting evil :)".

Not just the kids, I think Batman himself would be so much more interesting if DC was willing to let him confront these things. As a redemption arc or as a fatal flaw that keeps his family at arms length. But they want to have their cake (have Batman be edgy and give the Robins Character Development™ through good old child abuse) and eat it (have Batman be Dad of the year). And that's what doesn't work.

Batfam fandom is great because you have people making content for Good Father Bruce, Bad Dad Bruce (he's trying and it's a bit funny/tragic), Awful Father Bruce (with no intention of changing. Every option is way more interesting than DC's directionless mess. Like, we don't even need them to make Bruce Good™ we just want them to pick a side and stick to it.

Thank you. My gods that sums it up perfectly.

Like, I've got no problem consuming Good Dad Bruce content... if it's not the comics. The animated stuff is usually fine, and fanwork is also great. There's a ton to like about it.

Hell, I'm even chill if Bruce makes mistakes and errors and fucks up with his kids. That's realistic, as long as they address that he did, in fact, do that shit. They need to talk about how his actions have hurt his kids and his relationships with them. He can try to do better, or he can stay distant with his kids because of it (low to no contact). It's truly not that difficult to chat about.

Now, media that addresses all of the horrid stuff he's done and considers realistic reactions/solutions to it? Fantastic. I love that so much. It's so cathartic watching him get his ass handed to him.

It's not necessary, though. I'm chill with good dad Bruce.

Despite that, outright ignoring what he does or brushing it under the rug? That's horrific. That reads like a sickening cycle of abuse, and I can't stand it. It's the exact same shit an abuser pulls by harming their victim (psychologically, mentally, physically, etc.), apologizing (ish), finding a way to pin the blame back on the victim, and then love bombing. Like, my gods. Bruce will beat the shit out of Jason and say it's Jason's fault for killing someone... "I wouldn't harm you/take a machine to permanetly fuck up your brain if you didn't do that. It's not my fault that I decided to hurt you. It's your fault that I did."

I just fucking can't.

I think Tim, with his little statement of "I don't expect you to apologize" after Bruce caused him to have a nervous breakdown post 16th birthday, that's a close approximation to admitting that Bruce is a piece of shit that does tendencies like an abuser. No matter what someone's intentions are, they should still apologize if they've cause unjustified/unintentional harm. Only assholes who don't regret their actions or people who feel their actions are justified won't apologize. There's times when apologizing isn't necessary or desired. That's fine. I won't apologize if Comic!Bruce and I are in a room, and I "accidentally" set him on fire.

Yet, Bruce is out here fucking up his kids. At the very LEAST, they deserve a fucking apology. Maybe a restraining order.

I ranted a bit. My bad. Anyways, have DC acknowledge the shitty actions Bruce does or don't have him do them. It's simple.

[unteriors-in-house-flipper-2]

Im so curious to know what your process is. Do you use math to map out the lengths of things from the image or do you just kinda feel it out?

at first i just eyeballed it, but for the past few 'builds' ive started putting more effort into matching the composition! its a lot of trial and error cause im an artist so i dont have a great way of exactly determining things, but this is how ive started recently:

i mostly slap the reference image on a canvas the same size/aspect ratio as my game window, then use the perspective ruler tool in Clip Studio Paint to trace the main structure of the room. i then deform grids (corresponding to the 20cm cubes that walls in hf2 are made of) onto the walls and floors to try and estimate the dimensions. i know that walls are usually around 2.5m tall and all doors in hf2 are 2m tall, so i make sure to match those to the grid and see how the rest lines up.

this process is very imprecise and small changes can make a huge difference cause i'm just extrapolating things. often i cant get the in-game grid to line up quite right with my "measurements" (because of lens distortion? rounding errors? the ruler tool doesn't guarantee perfect squares/cubes? still figuring it out) but i CAN use it to determine the height and approximate location in the room the picture was taken! from there i can start taking screenshots and overlaying them onto the reference image to trial-and-error my way to the closest FOV and to start making more precise adjustments to the size of the room and such

for example: in the littleton north carolina uh. anime den. the grid on the floor wasn't quite right, and i ended up having to make the room 1 block narrower on both sides. the doorway between the two rooms and the diagonal wall also needed some adjusting!

in the end i cant get it to be perfect, but i really enjoy trying to match the basic structure of the room as much as i can!

(also to make sure i take screenshots from the same space, i place down a kitchen cabinet for inner corners to back myself into, and then place a tiny clothing hook on the wall in the location my cursor has to be. i temporarily delete the hook to take screenshots and then just ctrl+z it when i'm done lol)

[kybercrystals94]

They All Fall Down

Read there on AO3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 8 | Prompt 8: “Why won’t it stop?”

Rated: G | Words: 1572 | Summary: Stuck in their barracks on Kamino, the cadet Batch try to survive the slow, painful death of boredom. [Character Focus: Cadet Batch]

ADVISEMENT: All training simulations have been canceled for the day, and training rooms are closed. All cadets are ordered to stay in their designated living quarters until further notice. Any and all disturbances during this mandated down time will be dealt with swiftly and with the utmost severity.

Tech reads through the message for the dozenth time, searching for any loophole that he and his brothers might be able to wiggle through to get out of their barracks. They are only scheduled to be cadets for one more standard week. It seemed unfair that they would be held to the same limitations as cadets freshly released from their tubes.

However, the mandate still stands, and Tech’s messages for further clarification have been ignored. It seems they are trapped.

“Hunter,” Wrecker whines, drawing out the last syllable in Hunter’s name to a ridiculous length. “Crosshair won’t stop staring at me.”

Having managed to develop a migraine within the first hour of their imprisonment, Hunter says something from under the pillow he’s sequestered himself to, but his words are suffocated into senseless mumbling.

Crosshair sighs lazily from where he is laying sideways on his bunk, head dropped over the side so that he is looking out at the room upside down. “Stop being such a tubie, Wrecker.”

“I don’t like you staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you. I’m staring straight ahead.”

“Yeah! Which is at me!”

“If you are sitting in my line of sight, then yes, I’m staring at you. If it bothers you, move.”

“You move! I was sitting here first!”

“No.”

“If you won’t move yourself, I’ll help you,” Wrecker decides, standing up threateningly.

Crosshair smiles. “You just try. Let’s see what happens.”

“May I remind you that disturbances during this time will probably result in lockup,” says Tech.

“Lockup would be better than being stuck in here with him,” Wrecker says, jabbing a finger in Crosshair’s direction.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“That’s it!” Wrecker yells.

“Hey!” Hunter barks, sitting up and throwing his pillow at Wrecker. His squinting against the light of the room effectively makes him look angrier. “Knock it off, or I’ll turn you both in myself to get some peace and quiet.”

Crosshair huffs and rolls his eyes while Wrecker has the decency to look properly chastised.

Wrecker picks up the weaponized pillow. “Want this back?” he asks Hunter meekly.

Hunter glares at him for several long moments. “No,” he growls before falling back on his bunk and pulling the covers over his head.

A laden hush follows the outburst for approximately five standard minutes.

“You’re still staring at me.”

Tech jumps up and courageously puts himself between his feuding brothers. “We should do a quiet, group activity.”

“Like what?” Crosshair asks dubiously, rolling over and pushing himself up.

“We could play sabaac!” Wrecker suggests excitedly.

Tech casts a weary glance at Hunter’s bunk. “I don’t believe that game would qualify as quiet,” he says.

“What then?” Crosshair stands up and stretches his limbs.

Tech goes and gets the deck of cards. “I’ve been researching some other card games that are more appropriate to quiet environments. Allow me to teach you.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“Tech, do you have any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Wrecker groans and picks up a card from the draw pile. He looks at the card and grins wildly. “Ha! This is the card I wanted. Take that, Tech!” He puts down the set of twos in front of him triumphantly.

“While we are playing individually, I am not actively seeking your demise, Wrecker. If I’d had a two, you would have received it with no argument,” Tech mutters.

Crosshair chuckles. “That’s not how I’ve been playing.”

Tech throws the nearly graduated sniper a look. “Yes, I know that you’ve been actively cheating. Despite the simplicity of the game.”

“It’s not cheating, it’s house rules,” Crosshair says.

“They can only be house rules if the whole house agrees, which Wrecker and I have not.”

“Yeah, Cross! Play right or we’ll kick you out of the game,” Wrecker scolds far too loudly, then claps a hand over his mouth.

The three cadets look apprehensively over at Hunter’s bunk and breathe a sigh of relief when the lump that is their sleeping brother doesn’t move.

Crosshair hisses, “Fine. I’ll play by the dumb rules.”

“Thank you, and your opinion is noted.”

They play three more rounds of the game before they become bored. Wrecker suggests some house rules to change up the game; however, his idea is immediately shot down when Tech and Crosshair realize he is basically describing sabaac.

“If you didn’t get so loud whenever we played, maybe Tech wouldn’t have banned it,” Crosshair says irritably.

“I did not ban it, I just recommend we not play it…” Cutting a glance to Hunter’s bunk, Tech lowers his voice to add, “under the circumstances.”

Wrecker fusses with the cards. “How much longer will we be stuck in our barracks?”

“I’m estimating until late meal,” says Tech.

“That’s not for hours!”

“Shh!”

Hunter shifts and sighs, but seems to remain asleep.

“Maker, Wrecker, why do you have to be so loud all the time?” Crosshair mutters.

Wrecker frowns. “I’m being as quiet as I can.”

“I believe that is accurate,” Tech agrees. “He has been several decibels quieter than his average levels.”

“See?” Wrecker crows.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “We’re so proud of you.”

“What should we do now?” Wrecker asks. He takes two of the cards and leans them against each other, making a triangular structure.

Tech watches with interest, then smiles. “I have an idea.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter wakes to the soft chirp of a notification on his data pad. He blinks his eyes open, surprised by the quiet in the barracks. It is never this quiet unless his brothers are gone. Maybe he had slept through the mandatory lockdown, and they had gone to late meal without him. He wouldn’t put it past them, especially after threatening to send them to lockup. Not his finest moment of leadership.

He sits up, rolling his shoulders back to alleviate the stiffness. His migraine is mostly gone, just a lingering ache behind his left eye. He can live with that. Turning to swing his legs over the side of the bunk, Hunter freezes when he sees it: a tower of cards.

And he’s not alone after all.

Crosshair is sitting on Wrecker’s shoulders, reaching up with a card in each hand, poised to place them at the very top of the card palace that nearly reaches the ceiling. It is intricate in its design, with levels and pillars. Hunter is impressed.

“Just a little to the left, Wrecker,” Crosshair says, almost under his breath.

“Carefully,” Tech adds from where he stands across the table from them.

Wrecker shuffles to the left.

“There, good,” Crosshair whispers.

Hunter finds himself holding his breath as Crosshair reaches out and places the cards with the delicate care of an artist.

Hunter grins, reaching for his data pad and taking a holopic. This will be evidence the next time his brothers claim they can’t figure out how to play nice long enough to get anything done.

“That’s it, we did it,” Tech says, “We’ve used every card in our possession to make this structure.”

“We should take a holopic of it,” Wrecker says, almost softly.

“I did,” Hunter says.

He honestly didn’t mean to startle them. He thought that the trained soldiers had seen him sitting up, known they were being observed – even if they hadn’t acknowledged him. He supposes, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have made any such assumptions.

Wrecker nearly jumps out of his skin, which sends Crosshair, still perched on the giant’s shoulders, flailing to keep his balance. Tech whirls around to face Hunter, eyes wide. And all the sudden, combined, swift movements are the house of cards’ demise.

They all watch in devastated anguish as the cards tumble and flutter in soundless destruction. The silence continues long after the last card lands.

Hunter has never felt so small in his entire life.

Tech recovers first. “We knew it was a short-lived endeavor when we undertook the challenge,” he says bravely, but the assurance is thin.

“Would’ve been nice if it lasted longer than two seconds after we finished it though,” Crosshair grumbles, finally slipping down from Wrecker’s shoulders to loom over the carnage.

“I am so sorry,” Hunter says, standing up. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

Three sets of eyes look at him, conflicting emotions dancing across their faces.

“We weren’t scared!” Wrecker protests.

Tech averts his gaze. “Correct. We just thought we had inadvertently woken you. We were…surprised.”

Crosshair folds his arms over his chest. “I knew you were awake.”

“Right,” Hunter says, shifting uncomfortably. He holds up the data pad. “I really did get a holopic though.” He looks down at the screen, a notification symbol in the corner. He clicks on it. “And hey, the mandate has been lifted! We can leave the barracks now!”

“Yes, it was lifted two hours ago,” Tech says dismissively, kneeling to begin picking up the scattered remains of what might as well have been their hopes and dreams.

Hunter puts his data pad aside and begins to help gather the cards. “Maybe we can build another one?”

His brothers sigh in unison.

“It will simply not be the same,” Tech verbalizes.

END

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!✨

Taglist: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @merkitty49

A/N: If you squint, you can see where I sprinkled the whump in this story XD If you need specifics, I'll just say this: migraine & devastation over lost card tower.

[ejzah]

A/N: Well, the time has finally come. Thank you to each and every one of you who has read and followed this story that originally started out as a silly tumblr post. See you for the next one!

***

In Miss Blye’s Class, Epilogue

Deeks popped his head into the bathroom, frowning at Caleb, who stood in front of the mirror, toothbrush still in his mouth.

“Hey, what’s taking so long? Usually I have to beg you to make it to two minutes and you’ve been in here for ten.”

“I think I’m getting sick,” Caleb mumbled around his toothbrush.

Deeks reached out, feeling his forehead. “Hm, are you really?” he asked, not surprised when Caleb’s eyes danced to the side, looking extremely guilty. “Ok, what’s going on?”

“Why can’t Kensi be my teacher again? If she can teach people in college, then she should know enough to teach first grade,” Caleb sighed finally.

“Caleb, we’ve gone over this all summer. You know why,” Deeks answered, starting to lose his patience just a tiny bit. He bumped Caleb’s butt with his knee. “C’mon, scoot.”

“Daaaad.” Hunching his shoulders, Caleb gave him a pleading look. “I just want to stay with you or Kensi.” There was a slight tremble in his voice underneath the whine, and Deeks sighed.

Putting aside his irritation and the need to leave, Deeks squatted in front of him. He gestured at Caleb until he came closer, leaning into his chest. Sometimes it was easy to forget that even though he’d grown in so many ways, both physically and maturity-wise, Caleb was still a little boy.

“Hey, I know that it’s scary to start new things sometimes. It’s true you probably won’t have all the same classmates and Kensi won’t be your teacher, and that’s going to be hard for a little bit. Soon, you’ll be too busy learning all kinds of amazing things and playing with all your friends, that you won’t have time to think about everything that’s changed.”

“I guess,” Caleb mumbled.

“You met Mrs. Craig and she was nice, right?” Deeks asked, and Caleb gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“She gave you a new book, which you’ve read no less that ten times since then, and you liked the classroom pet.”

“The lizard was pretty cool,” he admitted. Deeks could tell his protests were starting to peter out, so he hugged him a little closer, and reminded him,

“If you are having a really tough time, Kensi said you can come see her during lunch, but I bet you won’t have to.”

“And you’ll pick me up?” he checked.

“Absolutely. As soon as they let you out.” He paused, giving Caleb a minute to process everything. “You good now?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Now we gotta leave before all three of us are late. Go get your shoes and backpack,” he said, kissing the top of his head, and nudging him towards the door. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, dad.”

He walked into the master bedroom checkin his watch; they had approximately five minutes before they needed to leave. Kensi stood in front of the floor length mirror in one of her sundresses, and he momentarily forgot about the time.

“You look amazing,” he told her, coming up behind her and kissing her neck.

“Thank you.” Kensi eyed his reflection. “You better not change out of that suit before I get home.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Caleb was acting a little odd at breakfast. Is everything ok? Kensi asked as she reached back to put on a necklace.

“Just first day jitters,” he assured her, automatically closing the necklace clasp for her. “He’s worried the new teacher won’t measure up to his last one.”

“Oh, well, I heard she was pretty good.”

“Mm, extremely good. She’s taught me all kinds of things.” Deeks lowered his eyes suggestively, and Kensi leaned back slightly so she brushed again his chest, and he settled his hands on her hips. They stayed there for half a minute until he sighed in regret.

“School sucks,” he said in a fair approximation of Caleb. Kensi snorted, turning to kiss him before she wandered off to get shoes.

When they reached the living room, Caleb balanced on the back of the couch, Captain America backpack on, a Lego figure in one hand, and a book tucked under his other arm.

“You ready to go?” Deeks asked, holding out his hand.

“Yeah.” Hopping off the couch, Caleb ran to them, slipping between Kensi and Deeks to take each other their hands in his.

“I think I’m gonna give Matthew my Star Wars Lego,” Caleb said, looking up at Kensi. “Do you think I’ll see him at recess?”

“I’m sure you will. And after school, you get to hang out with me until it’s time to leave,” Kensi informed him.

“Yes!” Caleb pumped released Deeks’ hand to pump his hand in the air.

As Caleb chattered away, his fears forgotten for the moment, Deeks shared a look with Kensi.

Yeah, this was going to be a good year.

[washedoutwings]

hehe hair cutting tips for @thecouncilofidiots

firstly, ALWAYS wash your hair before you cut it, and cut it while it’s still wet. not dripping wet, but still wet enough

for something similar to an undercut, we recommend using at least two mirrors, ideally three. one in the front, one on each side, this way you can see as much of your hair at once as possible

first, figure out approximately how much hair you want to keep the same length. section that off, then use a comb or something thin (we recommend the bottom of a hair dying brush if you have one) to basically part your hair wherever you want the divide to be. take the top section (that you aren’t cutting) and use hair ties and clips/bobby pins to keep it up on top of your head and out of the way.

tie off the section that you want to cut with a hair tie. put it just below where you want to cut it. check in your mirrors to make sure everything’s even and looks good. we also recommend taking pictures of the back of your head and looking at those to make sure it looks good even where you can’t see

if you need to adjust anything do that now. the divide between hair that you’re keeping and cutting should be roughly shaped like an upside down V, or like this ^ pointing up towards your head. this way the front and sides will stay the same length, and the difference won’t be too noticeable from the outside

once you’ve adjusted if necessary, it’s time to cut. if you have hair shears, it’s best to use those, but any sharp scissors will work. cut above the hair tie. this will keep all of your hair in one nice chunk so you don’t have to clean it all up later. we would also recommend putting a towel down on the floor to make cleanup easier. continue to use your mirrors to check how it looks, and keep taking pictures of the back of your head. remember, you can always cut more hair off, but you can’t put it back on

once you’re done, comb out the bottom section, untie the top, and comb that out too. check to see if you like how it looks, and if not, see what you can do to help fix it!

[felassan]

I was sent a link to a ‘chat with Mark Darrah' interview video that I hadn’t seen before. [here is the source] link. the interview took place in 2022, so bear that in mind when listening, but it still has interesting insights and things in there.

the rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

this post is just some brief notes and a few transcribed quotes of interest from the video.

Mark ofc was in charge of DA:O, DAII, & DA:I, then, quote, “then a bunch of malarkey happened” and he ended up in charge of Anthem in 2017 in its final ~16 months

In AAA games narrative is a certain thing that was very much defined in a lot of ways by BioWare

There’s a BioWare story in Anthem (though certainly not its best), if you just ignore everything else

The average gamer puts way too much stock into what engine is used to make a game

Mark is pretty sure that the guts of Neverwinter Nights is underneath the Witcher engine

Moving DA from Aurora to Eclipse to Frostbite (engines) opened up more possibility spaces

Frostbite stagnated because it essentially was the engine everyone had to use at EA

Before DA:I, there was a game at BioWare internally codenamed “Blackfoot”. It was going to be a multiplayer DA game and was using Frostbite before DA:O, during the time of DAII’s late development but before DA:I started development. It never shipped as it got eaten by DA:I

For the MET, Casey was originally trying to make a Star Control-type game but cinematic. Echoes of this can be seen in ME1. But ME the IP itself wants to be a space opera. Ultimately the cinematic experience side of it won out

And some specific quotes:

“Something that I noticed is that, sometimes, if your studio is hiring only your biggest fans, which I saw at BioWare sometimes, those people are in some ways, they’re almost more, they have more zealotry towards the ‘old way’ of doing things than – that’s right, that [from a fandom point of view] is all they know. And they don’t necessarily know that this was awful or that ‘there could have been a better way, we just didn’t see it until later’. All they know is, ‘this is what you did, and you made this thing I love, so we have to do that too’, and, so that’s a danger that could happen is, you get the, you know the monkeys and the bananas, like, ‘I don’t even know why we’re doing this anymore, but I know we’ve always done it.’”

-

“The biggest reason to consolidate on an engine is for the ability to share more work within your studio. In theory.” “The problem that often happens is that you end up with not nearly as much sharing as you would imagine. FIFA doesn’t share anything with DA. And in BioWare’s case it’s even worse than that, there’s very little sharing between DA:I and ME:A, and between ME:A and Anthem. A lot of troubles ME:A and Anthem had is [because of] not building upon the foundations of DA:I.”

-

“My great frustration of BioWare from around 2013 to basically today [2022], there wasn’t a building upon the past.” “30% of DA:I’s tech budget was spent on tooling. On ME:A they didn’t build upon the tools that were laid by DA:I, partially because they started before DA:I shipped, but also for ‘Not Build Here’ reasons. They spent 10-15% approximately of their budget on tools. Anthem didn’t build on either of these foundations and they spent about less than 10% of their budget on tools. So it was like they were going backwards, respecting the engine less and less as they went forward, resulting in more and more struggles happening.” “I have the most sarcastic PowerPoint presentation ever which compares those two games, which are treated as if they’re widely different things. They’re pretty much exactly the same game, from the perspective of any external observer. ME is more like DA than it is like anything else. So it’s ridiculous. The answer is hubris, is the answer.”

-

On endings and the future:

“I think you have to do something [about the endings]. ME was always conceived as being a trilogy, but I think what you actually end up with with ME1-3, if you kind’ve just stick them together into one ridiculously big game, that’s why it, in some ways, the complaints about the original ME3 ending are so hilarious because in a way, the game ME3 is the ending for this entire huge game, which isn’t awesome, because you know, the last Hobbit movie is also stupid because it’s all ending. So, that’s not necessarily the best, but that’s essentially what you have. So because it was intended as a trilogy, it, to some kind of degree it kind of takes its ball and goes home at the end, where its like, ‘I’m gonna render the possibility of a direct sequel to this sooo nearly impossible that it’s ludicrous’. It could be that, so we know that the Mass Relays are down, that’s also true, but, like, we have potentially, everyone’s a cyborg, potentially there are no robots, potentially, potentially, potentially, it’s bananas. But interestingly, if you look at ME1, ME2 and ME3 as a single game, and then you look at DA:O, DA:O was always, was originally envisioned as a standalone game. There was never even a consideration for a sequel made for that. If you look at DA:O and then look at what it does at its ending, so the ending of the game itself is fairly tight, it’s like, well you definitely have to kill the Arch Demon, and you’ve ended the Blight, but then you go through the end credits stuff, the epilogue screens. And it’s like, maybe there’s a civil war happening in Orzammar, maybe there are werewolves spreading across this entire part of Ferelden, maybe there are no werewolves at all. Like it’s similar. Now what DA, the way that DA approached the solution to that was to canonize some of those choices, but for the most part just move away, far enough physically, so it’s like, okay, well maybe there are werewolves down south there, that’s not my problem, I got my own problems. Or it moves through time, which is one of the reasons why DA2 moves through so much time is, it gives distance from DA:O. One of the major reasons why ME:A is literally hundreds of years in the future and in another galaxy, it’s like, okay, well, something happened, [shrug], we can react if we want to but we don’t have to worry about the consequences. DA has had the same problem that ME had, just to a lesser degree. DA:O did such a great job of building up the Warden that people are really attached to that and they keep wanting to see the Warden come back. People are never gonna let go of Shepard. DA, new player characters every time because it allows things to be done, but there are costs to that, if you don’t have nearly the [same] attachment. I mean, there’s a reason why every single Zelda game starts with you as Link getting bonked on the head. They’ve essentially solved the problem, reset button, either you have amnesia or you’re like the great-great-great-great-grandson. So it’s like, maybe there’s a way that they can do something like that, but Zelda’s jumped through a lot of hoops that probably a modern game can’t be allowed to do. You’re “Link”, so maybe there’s a way that you can be Shepard but, but Shepard, you can be “Shepard”, maybe there’s a way you can do that, but yeah, it’ll be interesting, it’s definitely a problem that they have. Because certainly, Ryder from ME:A is not the same character, nor could any character from a single game compete with a character from three games. Maybe the approach is, you canonize the choices from MET and you say, ‘and the choice we’re making is, Shepard made it, and you’re Shepard. [shrug]”

-

“I think there is a lot of DNA of its older games still at BioWare, but you’re right. Every game needs to be a game in its moment. It needs to be appropriate to the time and space of what’s going on. So, I get it, you kind of just want to feel the thing you felt when you played ME2 or feel the thing you felt when you played DA:O.” “If suddenly you got an ME2 again magically appearing out of the ether, I don’t think it would be received the same way. The industry isn’t in the same place. BioWare needs to set a new bar.” “The sad truth is, the older you get, the less relevant a part of the buying demographic you are. So the reality is, I mean ME:A had a shaky launch unfortunately, but it’s a lot of peoples’ favorite ME. Mostof those people who it is their favorite ME are younger people because it targets, you know, it’s got a younger PC, it’s got a stronger, more. I mean, the MET is very much, Shepard is a hero from action movies from the 80s and 90s, for millennials. He’s stoic. Whereas Ryder is definitely, he’s much more a protagonist from a CW show. The reality is is that, sorry, but they’re not trying to make it for you anymore.”

[source and full watch link where you can check it out]

[cyllres]

Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

Chapter 26

"I've organized the reports from our sources on recent unnatural deaths and disappearances," Kento said, pointing at the map plastered on the board. "This should help us narrow down the culprit's hideout."

“Aw yeah! Are we storming in?” Yuuji asked, enthusiasm evident in his voice.

“No, this is just an approximation. I'll continue to investigate this matter, but I'd like you two to handle a different task,” Kento said, glancing at the two of you before pinning a photo of a boy on the board. “This is the boy who was at the theater, Yoshino Junpei. Apparently, he goes to the same school as the victims.” Kento then clicked on the remote, lighting up the screen beside the board to show CCTV footage. “Based on the surveillance footage and how he carried himself, I believe it’s unlikely he could be a curse user.” Your eyes narrowed as you studied Junpei, who appeared frantic in the footage. “However, if he is related to the victims, that changes things.”

“Curse user?” you asked, your tone curious but with a hint of skepticism.

“A jujutsu sorcerer with evil intent,” Kento replied, placing a hand on his hip. “I've entrusted the process to Ijichi, so I'd like you two to investigate Yoshino Junpei.”

Ijichi and Yuuji both placed a hand on their foreheads in a salute. “Roger!” Yuuji responded eagerly. “Speaking of which, I don’t know any assistants other than you,” he added, looking at Ijichi.

“Well, I’m the only one who knows you’re still alive, so by necessity…” Ijichi trailed off.

“Makes sense! Let’s go!” Yuuji said enthusiastically, opening the door. You followed him, giving Kento and Ijichi a brief nod before leaving the room. You knew Kento already had an idea of the culprit’s location, and while you were intrigued by the curse, you couldn’t risk putting Yuuji in another dangerous situation.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Yuuji suddenly stopped. “Hold on,” he said, turning back and heading up the stairs again, prompting you to follow.

“Nanami-sensei,” Yuuji said enthusiastically, gently pushing Ijichi, who was by the door.

“Yuuji-?” Ijichi said, regaining his balance.

“I forgot to say something.” Yuuji smiled warmly. “Be careful, okay?” he said to Kento.

“Yuuji-kun,” Nanami started, “I am not a teacher, so please drop the honorifics.”

“How about Nanamin?!” You playfully suggested with a grin as you also lean by the doorway.

“You two want a smacking?” Kento replied, his expression unamused.

-

“There he is,” Ijichi pointed at the boy walking casually. You sat quietly in the back seat beside Yuuji, looking disinterested while Yuuji intently watched Junpei.

Junpei was a thin young man with black eyes and shoulder-length black hair. His bangs, parted to the side, covered the right side of his face.

“Huh? He's not in uniform?” Yuuji asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

“It looks like he hasn't attended school for some time,” Ijichi replied, continuing to drive as he followed the boy.

“The same could be said for me,” Yuuji remarked, then glanced at you. “How are the others doing?”

A brief flashback of Panda spinning you around while Toge stood ready to catch you played in your mind. It was one of the reasons you preferred missions over training—you were bored, and missions felt more purposeful. Plus who does not hate being thrown away? Nobara might feel betrayed by your absence, but you didn't really care.

“Kugisaki-san and Fushiguro-san are doing well,” you answered. “Sugar too; he’s being taken care of by them.” Your tone softened a bit when you mentioned the dog. Yuuji gave you a brief smile before turning back to Ijichi.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Yuuji asked, shifting his attention.

“We’ll use that,” Ijichi said, referring to the caged cursed spirits on the passenger seat. “It's a fly head. A low-level curse that doesn't even qualify as fourth grade. When there's no one around, we’ll have it attack him.”

“Attack?!” Yuuji exclaimed, surprised.

“One: if he is a normal person who can't perceive curses, please rescue him,” Ijichi explained. “Two: if he can perceive it but has no means to fight back, again, please rescue him. Three: if he exorcises the fly head with jujutsu, we’ll restrain him immediately.” Ijichi adjusted his glasses, his expression serious.

“By force?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, by force. It’s fine if it turns out to be a misunderstanding. We can apologize later. However, Four: if he's potentially as strong as a grade 2 sorcerer, Y/n-san would restrain him while we retreat and meet back up with Mr. Nanami.”

“Huh, why should we leave Y/n alone?” Yuuji asked, worry evident in his voice as he glanced at you.

“An assistant would immediately be called to her side for an ‘emergency mission.’ Y/n-san has already been graded as a special grade after that mission and is taking first grade to special grade-tier missions,” Ijichi explained, prompting Yuuji to look at you with amazement.

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked but quickly deadpanned, placing air quotes. “It's because you didn’t ask,” he bantered, making you laugh a bit.

“We're walking from here,” Ijichi announced as he parked the car. The three of you got out and silently followed Junpei while Yuuji held a small curse spirit with wings in a cage covered with talismans.

-

Yuuji and Ijichi exchanged a quick glance and mumbled something under their breath.

"You two are ridiculous," you sighed, leaning casually against a nearby post. Despite your comment, they ignored you and positioned themselves to open the cage.

“WAIT—” Yuuji tried to warn Ijichi as he noticed another person approaching, but it was too late—the curse was already gone. “Crap!” Yuuji sprang into action, chasing after the Flyhead while you watched him with a mix of amusement and disinterest. Noticing Junpei make a hand sign, signaling a cursed technique, you shifted from your relaxed stance and ran after Yuuji, eyes narrowing with interest.

“STOP!” Yuuji yelled at the small curse, now holding it firmly. Junpei and the older man he was speaking with turned to look at him in confusion. “Ow! Dammit!” Yuuji groaned as he collided with a pole. Instinctively, you stepped forward, placing yourself between Yuuji and the strangers, your gaze locked onto Junpei with a penetrating intensity.

Junpei flinched slightly under your scrutiny, but quickly masked his discomfort, accustomed to the disdainful looks people often gave him.

"Are you alright?" you asked Yuuji, your tone softening for a moment.

“Thank goodness,” Yuuji muttered, rubbing his head.

“What, is he a gymnast?” the older man asked, bewildered. You glanced at them, but before you could respond, Yuuji took a step forward, his focus entirely on Junpei.

“Hey, I've got some questions for you,” Yuuji said, ignoring the older man completely. “Would you come with me?”

“Hey, can’t you see I’m talking to him? How rude!” the man grumbled, reaching to grab Yuuji, but you swiftly intervened, your hand clamping down on his arm.

“Excuse us,” you said, your voice firm as your eyes locked onto his with a cold glare. The man shuddered, but before he could react further, your expression shifted into a polite smile. “He’s an old friend of ours. We’d like some time alone to talk about something important.” Your tone was sweet, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

“Huh? Important? What do you kids know? And what’s with that—” The man’s rant was abruptly cut off when Yuuji suddenly yanked down his pants, revealing a pair of bright red striped shorts. His face turned beet red.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!” the man screamed, desperately trying to pull his pants back up while Yuuji tugged at them. You deadpanned as Junpei watched in bewilderment. “Stop! Please stop!” the man pleaded, but Yuuji didn’t relent, running off with the man’s pants as the latter tripped over himself.

“Please don’t run off with them!” the man yelled, but Yuuji had already disappeared around the corner, leaving the man to chase after him in a frantic sprint.

“What the fuck just happened?” Junpei deadpanned, still processing the chaotic scene. You merely shrugged, turning your attention back to him.

"Who are you?" you asked, your polite smile back in place. Despite the friendliness in your tone, something about your smile unsettled Junpei, like it was a mask hiding something far more dangerous. “I’m Itadori Y/n, but you can call me Y/n.” You stepped closer to him, your eyes subtly analyzing him.

You hummed thoughtfully. ‘His cursed energy is low, just slightly above a normal human’s, but still not strong enough to perform a significant cursed technique,’ you mused, recalling the incident at the movie theater. Junpei swallowed hard, sensing your scrutiny.

“Yoshino—” Junpei began, but he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Both of you turned to see Yuuji walking up, surprisingly calm.

“Okay, now, let’s go!” Yuuji said, as if nothing had happened.

“Huh, that was fast!” Junpei remarked, genuinely impressed. “Did you go around the block!?”

Yuuji nodded. “You didn’t have to go through all that,” Junpei added. “You both could’ve just dragged me away.”

“Well, we could still do that,” you quipped with a smile that made Junpei shiver. “But you hate that guy, don’t you?” you added, glancing in the direction the man had run off. “He smells like a scummy person.”

“How do you…?” Junpei started, confused by your accuracy.

“Just a hunch,” you replied, smiling sweetly as you turned back to him.

“You don’t want someone you hate hanging around your house, right?” Yuuji asked. “Let’s head over there for now.”

Junpei hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure,” he agreed, following the two of you.

-

As you sat at the edge of the river, you couldn't help but giggle at the sight before you. To others, you might have looked like an ordinary girl, simply amused by the way the light danced on the water, but your focus was entirely on Pochita. The curse, in his canine form, was splashing around, trying to catch fish with a determination that made you smile. With a triumphant bark, Pochita finally snagged a fish and, in a playful gesture, tossed it toward you. You quickly dodged, laughing even harder as the fish landed with a wet slap on the solid ground. Pochita rushed to the shore, teeth bared as he tried to bite into the fish's head, his antics making you laugh even more.

“Stop, stop seriously,” you giggled, waving your hand to dismiss Pochita before he drew too much attention.

A few steps behind you, your brother Yuuji and Junpei were deep in conversation. Yuuji's voice, tinged with frustration, cut through the peaceful atmosphere as he gripped both his phone and a small curse he held. “Forget it! I'll just ask him!” Yuuji exclaimed, turning to face Junpei.

Dusting off your pants, you stood and approached the two boys, catching the tail end of their conversation. “Listen, some people died at the theater you went to the other day,” Yuuji began, his tone serious. “Did you happen to see anything? Something creepy like this, maybe?” He raised his hand, showing the curse to Junpei.

Junpei hesitated before answering, “No, I didn't. I've only recently started seeing those clearly.”

Yuuji nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well, I've got nothing else to ask then!” he said, his tone shifting back to its usual enthusiasm as he quickly exorcised the curse.

Junpei blinked in surprise. “Huh? That's it?” he asked, glancing at Yuuji who had now plopped down next to him on the stairs.

“Could you still wait until our boss, sort of, shows up?” Yuuji requested, his eyes earnest. You joined them, sitting beside your brother.

“Hey, what were you watching at the movie theater?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah! Me and N/n-chan love watching movies! Even the bad ones,” Yuuji chimed in, grinning at you as you nodded in agreement. “Have you ever watched something so bad it turned out to be good?” he asked, his enthusiasm contagious.

Junpei, a bit more at ease now, shrugged and answered, “I was watching a repeat screening of an old movie. You two probably wouldn't know about it.”

“Come on, tell us!” Yuuji encouraged, leaning in closer.

After a brief pause, Junpei finally admitted, “... Earthworm 3.”

Both you and Yuuji groaned in unison. “That one was super boring!” you couldn't help but blurt out, and Yuuji nodded emphatically.

Despite your reaction, Junpei found himself relieved. It was strange, but for once, he felt like he was just a regular teenager having a normal conversation. No judgment, no fear, just simple, human interaction.

“I got hit so many times over that,” Yuuji murmured, rubbing his cheek as if the memory still stung.

“Honestly, it was. But it was just a splatter film, after all,” Junpei agreed, his voice a little lighter. “Maybe we never should've expected anything from it. But part two—”

“But part two was pretty good, wasn't it?” Yuuji cut in enthusiastically, with you nodding in agreement.

“Yeah! Exactly!” Junpei said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “It really had some redeemable qualities!”

As the conversation flowed, you suddenly felt something off. A familiar presence tugged at the edge of your senses, its aura dark and twisted, like a shadow of someone you once knew. You breathed deeply, trying to pinpoint its location, but it was elusive, almost as if it was intentionally toying with you.

‘It smells like Geto, but it’s so rotten,’ you thought, a wave of unease washing over you. Your hand instinctively moved to your mouth as you suppressed the urge to summon Pochita, your breath hitching slightly.

“N/n? N/n-chan? Y/n?” Yuuji’s concerned voice broke through your thoughts. You looked up at him, forcing a reassuring smile.

“Yuuji, I’m calling Yasu-san over to pick me up. I feel a bit sick in the stomach. Please get home safely,” you said, your voice calm despite the turmoil inside. You turned to Junpei. “Yoshino-kun, take care of my brother, okay?”

“Yasu-san?” Yuuji asked, his eyes filled with worry and confusion.

“He’s one of the managers I know. Don’t worry, he’s reliable. I know he’s either at his dorm or doing college stuff, whatever,” you reassured him as you stood up. Without waiting for a response, you hurried up the stairs, following the ominous presence. But instead of contacting Yasu, your fingers dialed a different number—Satoru Gojo.

Cursing under your breath, you realized the signal was too weak to get through. Frustration mounted as you broke into a run, your footsteps echoing against the concrete walls.

Rounding a corner, you collided with a black-haired woman. “Oh, sorry!” you apologized hastily, not even sparing her a glance as you continued your pursuit of the elusive presence. The woman's eyes followed you as you disappeared into the distance.

-

“Gojo-sensei,” you called out as your breath finally caught up with you. The moment you heard the familiar tone on the other end, you didn’t wait for pleasantries.

“Getou-sensei… he’s dead, isn’t he?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the calm exterior you tried to maintain. There was a brief pause on the other end, the silence almost deafening before Satoru responded.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady, leaving no room for doubt.

“Then… why—why do I still smell him?” you pressed, your heart pounding faster with each step you took. The city around you blurred as you pushed yourself to move faster, your stamina dwindling but the fear driving you forward.

“Where are you, Y/n?” Satoru’s tone shifted, urgency creeping into his voice.

“Kawasaki, I think… somewhere around here,” you admitted, glancing around the unfamiliar streets as they sped past.

“Y/n, listen to me carefully. Send me your location right now. I’ll have Nanami come pick you up. Whatever you see, don’t do anything drastic,” Satoru instructed, his words firm yet laced with concern.

You bit your lip, feeling a swell of frustration. Ignoring his instructions, you ended the call and tucked your phone away. There wasn’t time for backup. The presence was growing stronger, closer, pulling you toward it like a magnet. You found a nearby sewer grate and quickly descended into the damp, echoing tunnels below. The stench was overwhelming, but all you could focus on was the sickly, familiar scent that made your skin crawl.

You summoned Pochita, the little curse barking in acknowledgment before darting down one of the tunnels, his small form vanishing into the shadows. Your steps slowed as the unease grew. Each echo of your footfall felt like a countdown, the fear gnawing at your resolve. It was as though knowing who—or what—was at the end of this tunnel would kill you, but not knowing would be worse.

Your legs gave out, the weight of dread pressing down until you were forced to crawl. You reached the corner and cautiously peeked out from behind a post, your breath catching in your throat at the sight before you.

A man stood there, hooded, his back turned to you. He was tall, his presence commanding, almost suffocating. Your heart hammered in your chest as you silently summoned a pistol into your hand, your cursed energy barely flickering to life. It was weak, so weak, but it was enough to draw the attention of the man and the cursed spirit beside him.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, gripping the pistol tighter as the man turned slightly, revealing more of his face. He whistled, and from the rubble nearby, a curse emerged, its laughter grating and chilling.

“Just like I thought, that sorcerer is nuts!” the cursed spirit cackled. It had a human-like appearance, with a patchwork face stitched together in a grotesque imitation of life. Long, grayish-blue hair fell past its neck, tied into three large sections. Its entire body bore the same stitches, making it look like a puppet sewn together from mismatched parts.

“You guys went all out,” the man remarked, his voice familiar yet twisted, sending a cold shiver down your spine. You gulped, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. It seemed like him, but not him…

“Getou! Lemme borrow your clothes!” the curse demanded, its tone mocking as it glanced over at the man. Your pulse quickened as the man finally turned around to face you. His eyes, once warm, now seemed devoid of that softness, replaced by something darker, more sinister.

“Getou-sensei?” you called out, your voice eerily calm, though panic clawed at your insides. The man—Getou—smirked, his expression almost amused.

“Oh my, interesting,” he mused, his gaze settling on you. Your breath hitched as you took in his appearance. He looked exactly like the last time you saw him, but something was off—horribly off. Stitches ran across his scalp, and his skin was an unnatural shade, pale and lifeless. It was him, and yet it wasn’t.

“Y/n-chan, long time no see,” ‘Getou’ greeted you, his voice the same as you remembered, but the warmth and familiarity you once knew was almost too fake. It was like hearing a ghost speak.

Your hands shook as you raised the pistol slightly. “Who… who are you?” you demanded, your voice wavering as you stared at the man who wore Getou’s face like a mask, the man who couldn’t possibly be him.

-

Kape?: https://ko-fi.com/cyllres

[vertumnanaturalis]

While this particular sheet isn't fully finished & public yet, I did wanna post these publicly while I was thinking about it - My headcanon calendar, approximate dates for when IWATEX takes place, and characters indivudual birthdays on both the Vertumnan Calendar and the traditional Gregorian Calendar! I get a bit rambly with this so the explaination behind my reasonings for things is below the cut:

The Vertumnan calendar is simple: 12 months of 30 days between the four normal seasons (Quiet, Pollen, Dust, and Wet), followed by a slightly shorter 28 day month for the already uniquely short Glow season, for a total of 388 days on an average year. Leap years with a single extra day would still occur just much less often than on Earth, only needed once every 17 years (aka 16 average years followed by 1 leap year), with that final extra day being added onto the end of Glow. This also matches with the years on Earth "laping" the years on Vertumna every 16/17 years; A character's 16th birthday on Vertumna would've been their 17th on Earth, their 32nd Vertumnan birthday would've been their 34th Earthern one, ect ect.

This also goes by several key things that aren't against canon information but contridictory to what was in early forms of the design document; the first is that days on Vertumna are nearly identical in length to days on Earth, still following a day divided into 24 hours of 60 minutes with each minute being composed of 60 seconds; the second is that weeks are assembled into batches of 7 days and (currently) follow the modern naming scheme for Sunday through Saturday.

The reason for keeping the day such a near identical length is that in practice it is actually incredibly hard to permanantly readjust the average humans sleep cycle to something longer (or shorter!) than their natural circadian rhythm. Even just an hour longer would have a cumulative effect on people's sleep cycles, getting more and more tired an hour "earlier" than the day before. This only stop becoming a problem if the days were almost perfectly twice as long as one on Earth, but having days that long - especially on a planet with two suns - would likely cook the planet to deadly temperatures during the day, while leaving the far side to drop insanely low each night. And yeah, sure, this one could be waved away by having each of the characters genetically modified to have a circadian rhythem that matches the length of their new day, but that requires both reader/writer and all characters to start adapting to a whole new lingustic system for describing units of time, which is also my entire reasoning for keeping the modern week setup. In theory, building up a whole new system of hours and names for week days is a lot of fun! And it can be, I've done it before, I'm halfway doing it again!

Which is how I learned that actually using said system casually and naturally is a WHOLE different beast, and not one I particularly want to explore in this fandom worldbuilding exercise. I think that in-universe the days of the week would be renamed over time, the same way that I think each given month would eventually have a more unique (and easier to use/identify) name than "Early Pollen" or "Mid Wet". Another headcanon of mine is that the founders actually did attempt to rename them before launch Onesday Twosday Threesday ect ect... But that between the adults deeply ingrained existing habit of calling things by their current names & the younger Earthborn colonists + spaceborn kids having secondhand exposure to the concept through media brought from Earth, it never actually caught on (except for Twosday taking over Tuesday, despite it being the third day of the week).

On another point entirely; The Gregorian calendar dates seen here are all founded on the age 11/year 2 Valentines day event. I ended up settling on that day being February 14th, 2204. Theres a few reasons for picking that year in particular; when I first started toying with the idea, it would've put their landing date during 2203, and I thought that it was a nice pun on the then-current-year 2023 (and, now having hammered it out further, having the landing year be 2202 is a nice nod to the game being released in 2022); One of the early humanties class events has a reference to space travel being "a passtime of billionaires in a previous century", and the standard english usage where I'm from would have this imply that more than a century had passed since that point, but it doesn't automatically mean it that either (think about using that phrasing to talk about something today; if you were talking about things that happend between 1900 and 1999, would you say that they happened in the previous century or a previous century?); the third reason is that its a shout out to one of my other favorite games, Stellaris (a space exploration/empire management sim), which always has the starting year of 2200.

Again, a lot of this is conjecture & opinions, just headcanoning pure and simple, but I've put a lot of thought into this over the past year. I'll eventually have a public copy of a calendar covering all 10 years of the canon game & update the npc sheet to have their local and Earth birthdays (as yes, I have gone and given them all specific birthdates, though I haven't finished calculating the Gregorian dates for the unimportant characters yet), but I'm in the middle of a frustrating medication adjustment & dealing with other personal issues that make it fall lower on my priority list rn.

If you have any questions or thoughts on any of this I absolutely wanna hear them, and as always all of this stuff is free for people to use-as-is or remix or takes part of to incorperate into their own headcanon system freely, and if you ever make anything based on or inspired by or referencing any of this stuff I very much would like to see it.

[hirocimacruiser]

This month's car review (from a Navi magazine)

difficult for men

Nissan March Cabriolet (CVT) 1.79 million yen

NISSAN MARCH CABRIOLET

The ``Cabriolet'' has been added to Nissan's ``cash cow'' March, with approximately 300,000 units sold each year around the world.

This model was originally exhibited as a reference at the 31st Tokyo Motor Show, but it was decided to go on sale this time because ``many customers requested that it be commercially available.'' However, it's already been two years since the last motor show, so I can't help but wonder, ``Why now?''

Regarding this, when the current March was announced in 1992, it was declared that there would be no model changes for 10 years. However, if we think about the next five years, we cannot rest on our laurels, so we announced the Cabriolet as the top grade of the March brand, creating a buzz and drawing attention to the March again. This seems to be a more realistic reason.It is produced by Takada Kogyo, a Nissan affiliate company that also produced the previous March-based Be-1 and Pao.

The exterior of the March Cabriolet is quite cute. In addition to simply removing the roof, a light notch was added to the rear end of the body to tighten the buttocks.

It somehow reminds me of the Peugeot 205 cabriolet.

The interior is basically the same as the March, but the seat fabric is modeled after a Milan city map and is exclusive to the Cabriolet. The chic sand beige hood is electric, so it doesn't take much time or effort to open or close it, and it only needs to be locked in two places at the top of the front window. The lowered top fits almost within the waistline of the body, but in order to secure that space, the interior length is about 10cm shorter than that of a hatchback. As a result, the rear seat has just enough space to accommodate two adults.

Unfortunately, the sky was cloudy that day, but it felt great to drive fully open on the highland roads around Risonare Kobuchizawa, which was the base for the test ride. Generally speaking, a 4-seater that opens up has a wide opening, which means that the wind is forced into the cabin, but in the case of the March, the high A-pillar of the tall boy style remains, so the side windows can be opened. Once you raise it up, the wind doesn't really bother you.

The closed-body March is available with two engines, 1ℓ and 1.3ℓ, but only the 1.3ℓ, which produces 79 ps, is available in the Cabriolet. However, due to the reinforcements added to the open body, the vehicle weighs 110kg more than before, so its power performance is on par with the liter version of a hatchback. When you step on the accelerator, the exhaust pipe emits a brave sound, but the speed does not increase as much as that sound. A roll bar (which guarantees safety in the event of a fall) is installed to ensure rigidity.

Although the roof rails (which Nissan calls them ``roof rails'') are still in place, the floor trembles when you go over a large step. Well, in any case, it's not so much that it's a hindrance to driving normally around town.

According to the person in charge of development, the keyword for the development of the March Cabriolet was ``a usable cabriolet.'' To achieve this, we focused on four points: (1) electric soft top, (2) heated glass rear window, (3) 4-seater seating, and (4) trunk-through mechanism. By the way, the Fiat Punto Cabrio, which is seen as a rival, does not have (2), and the Toyota・The Cynos Convertible does not have ① or ④. The price of the Punto is 2.45 million yen, and the advanced grade Cynos is 2.103 million yen. The March on the other hand costs 1.79 million yen for the NCVT specification, so it can be said that the March has the advantage in terms of equipment and price.

Regarding the March Cabriolet, I thought the styling was good and the construction of each part was okay, but to be honest, I felt like it was a little out of place. So, I thought, ``Why is that?'' But in the end, I thought that the March Cabriolet was too cute, or rather, it gave the impression that it was ``for girls.'' It was said to be strong. At least I can't imagine myself, a 30-year-old man, driving one, or rather, I don't really want to imagine it.

March Cabriolet, difficult for men. (Kawanishi)

PIC CAPTIONS

The March Cabriolet has a total length x width x width = 3720 x 1585 x 1430mm, and is 25mm longer and 5mm taller than the closed body. The body color is green, red, and silver as shown in the photo. Regardless of the body color, it is combined with a beige hood. Standard equipment includes air conditioning, power steering, front seat double airbags, ABS, and seatbelt pretensioners. The price is 1.79 million yen for the CVT model and 1.69 million yen for the 5MT model.

Photo = Daijiro Gun

Photography cooperation = Quatre Karl 0266-66-2722

[whump-me]

My Patreon is officially live!!

New whump writing is going up 2-3 times a week, with a focus on ongoing novel-length stories. Interrogation whump, spy whump, lab whump, sci-fi and fantasy elements, lots and lots of emotional whump… basically the same stuff I post here, but more of it.

There are three tiers available:

$3/month: Early access to everything that goes up here. The plan is to always have one story going, with new chapters being released 2-3x/week. Once the last chapter is released on Patreon, the first chapter will be released on Tumblr. For the average novel-length story, that means subscribers will be reading about two months ahead.

$5/month: Early access, plus side stories and bonus novels. Approximately twice as much whumpy writing as the previous tier. Stories released to this tier will be exclusive to Patreon for a minimum of one year.

$7/month: Cleanly-formatted downloadable copies of every completed story in epub and mobi format. (Epub is readable on most e-reading apps and readers, including Kindle. Mobi is a legacy Kindle format.) This is the easiest way to read if you prefer to wait until the story is complete, or if you like to reread.

And if you can't join the Patreon, or just don't want to? No worries! I'll still be posting loads of stuff here.

(Name note: for now, I'm publishing these stories on Patreon using the same name I've previously used to publish more traditional--read, less overtly whumpy--urban fantasy novels, while I decide whether to publish all my novels under the same name, or use that name exclusively for urban fantasy. These stories may be published under a different name in the future.)

Obscure, a Mind Games novel, is the first story I'm releasing to Patreon, and the first chapter is available there now. (You might remember the Mind Games setting from my Whumptober 2023 stories.) New chapters will come out 3x/week.

When Obscure is complete on Patreon (which will be in mid-March), I'll be posting it here on the same schedule: three chapters a week until it's done. (If you want to get on the taglist for when it's available here, let me know.)

The first Patreon bonus content--which will be the first half of Defect, another Mind Games story--will be posted at the beginning of February. (As with my Whumptober 2023 stories, these novels all stand entirely alone, sharing a setting but nothing else. They can be read in any order, and you don't need to read one to understand the others.)

Story descriptions under the cut:

Obscure

Forgetting is dangerous. Remembering is deadly.

Elias: the man sitting handcuffed in an interrogation room deep in a secret underground facility. On the surface, he looks harmless. But his mind is a weapon—he can erase memories with a thought.

Kirill: the man on the other side of the interrogation table. He has a weapon of his own—he can see inside other people’s memories. All he has to do is make them feel a strong enough emotion, and their minds are his. And no emotion works quite as well as fear.

Elias has worked for decades to save the Enhanced—people born with superhuman abilities—from being abducted and forced into black-ops work. Now his captors want the names of everyone who has ever helped him. If Kirill’s methods of persuasion don’t work, he’ll simply use Elias’s fear to slip into his mind and plunder his memories.

But he may get more than he bargained for.

Decades ago, Elias erased a set of memories that tie the two of them together in a way neither of them suspects. And those memories are about to come to light.

Obscure is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novel is 65,000 words long, or about 200 pages.

---

Defect

Their creators designed them to be the perfect weapons.

They forgot to make sure they could control their creations.

Sparrow’s explosive powers make her a living bomb. She spends her life locked away in a fireproof cell, brought out only when something needs to burn. But the longer you contain an explosion, the stronger it becomes.

All she knows is that she wanted to see the sky. Then came fire, and screaming, and death. Now she’s lost on unfamiliar city streets, hunted by her creators and the civilian authorities alike.

Mary went from being a failed experiment to a lab assistant prized for her intelligence and her perfect obedience. But after years without useful results, her lab is slated for shutdown. That means the dissection table for Mary. Unless she captures her creators’ rogue weapon and proves her lab holds the secret to controlling her power.

Mary offers Sparrow the thing she thought she could never have: freedom. Freedom from her creators, and from her own uncontrollable power.

It’s a lie.

Mary accepted long ago that there’s no such thing as freedom for people like them. There is only survival—and she’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

Defect is part of the Mind Games universe, a series of standalone stories about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. This novella is 42,000 words long, or about 140 pages.

[somediyprojects]

DIY Paper Tiger Lilies

Project by Kate Alarcon:

This speckled wildflower isn’t the large, showy tiger lily grown from a bulb as an annual, but rather lilium columbiana, a Pacific Northwest native with small flowers that face downward. I’ve never actually seen a live one in person before, but this is one of my favorite paper flowers to add to a bouquet. It’s bright and eye-catching but still has a delicate, woodland vibe. The arched stems give an arrangement height that isn’t too visually distracting, and the curled petals show off the color on both sides of the doublette crepe paper.

But the best argument for paper tiger lilies is the fun of speckling and curling those petals. Enjoy! —Kate

Supplies:

-Lily petal template (here) -Orange doublette crepe from here -Yellow, orange, or green heavy or fine crepe for the pistil (I’ve used Bright Olive heavy crepe from here.) -Fine crepe in orange or brown (I’ve used Vermillion fine crepe from here.) -Fine crepe in Cypress from here -Aleene’s Original Tacky glue -Cloth-covered stem wire in 18 gauge and 22 gauge -Dark brown or burgundy pen or marker. Any kind should work, but test it on a scrap of doublette crepe first to be safe. -A rod approximately the diameter of a straw (I used a gold paper straw from Target, but a pen, knitting needle, or wooden dowel would also work.)

A note about crepe paper grain:

The grain of the crepe paper runs parallel to the roll or fold. Crepe paper stretches horizontally, but not vertically, so you will almost always cut petals with the grain, placing the template so that the tiny wrinkles in the paper run up and down the template, not across. Cutting with the grain means that you cut in the same direction the crinkles are running; cutting across the grain means that you cut perpendicular to these crinkles.

Stamens:

Cut four 3” pieces of the 22 gauge wire for each flower. (Lilies technically have 6 stamens, but I like the more streamlined appearance of 4. Use as many as you like!)

Cut out a 5”x 5” rectangle of fine crepe in whatever color you prefer for your stamen tips.

Cut the square across the grain to create 1/8” wide strips. Each strip will cover at least one stamen tip, so you only need four strips for each lily. Dot a very small amount of glue along one of the strips. Attach the end of the strip to the wire about 1/16” below the tip of one of your short lengths of wire. The strip should be perpendicular to the wire.

Roll the strip around the wire to create a little barrel, which will plump up your stamen tip. (I always just eyeball this, but I’ve found that a typical barrel takes about 1.5” of the strip.) Once you’ve rolled up your barrel, hold the strip at a 45-degree angle to the tip of the wire, and start wrapping toward the tip. When you get to the end of the wire, reverse directions and wrap toward the bottom of the stamen. Snip off any excess.

While the paper is still wet, mold the stamen tip a little bit, smoothing any bumps in the tip. Then pinch it flat between your thumb and index finger.

 Pistil:

Cut two ¼” x 3.5” strips of Bright Olive heavy crepe across the grain. Dot glue down the length of the strip. Starting at the tip of one of your 18 gauge wires, wrap at least the top 2” of the wire, stretching the strip and spiraling down at a 45-degree angle.

Dot your second strip of heavy crepe with glue. Position a stamen against the pistil so that the bottom of the stamen hits the pistil two inches below the pistil tip. Repeat with the remaining 3 stamens. The second should be placed opposite the first. The remaining two stamens go in the spaces between the first two. Snip any excess strip.

The finished center

Petals:

Using the petal template, cut six petals from the orange doublette. (Make sure the grain runs up and down the petal from tip to base.)

Decide whether you’d like the darker or lighter orange side of the petals to face the center. I’ve chosen the darker orange, so that’s the side I speckled.

Use your pen to apply dots to the petal. I’ve drawn larger and smaller elongated ovals somewhat at random. I threw away about fifty lovingly speckled petals after changing my mind about the speckle pattern. Don’t be me: spend some time practicing on scraps before tackling the petals.

Find the circle near the bottom of the petal template, and gently stretch this area to create a little bowl.

Starting at the tip of your petal, curl your petal around the rod. The “right” side of the petal — in other words, the side on which you drew your speckles — should face toward the rod, while the back side of the petal is what you’ll see when the petal is almost completely wrapped around the rod.

Without uncurling the petal, remove the rod. For a lily in full bloom, leave the curls tight. To create different stages of bloom, adjust the curl of the petals by gently smoothing them between your fingers.

 Applying the petals:

The petals are attached in two rounds of three.

Apply a small amount of glue to the little tab at the bottom of the petal. Attach one of the petals to your center, placing it so that the top of the little tab falls just above the top of the olive strip that you used to attach the stamens to the pistil.

Attach two more petals, spacing them evenly to form a triangle around the center.

For the next round, apply the petals in the spaces between your first set of three. Make sure not to drift down the stem with this second round.

Gently bend the stamens so that they curve outward away from the pistil. 

Wrapping the stem:

After you’ve attached all six petals, cut two ¼” x 10″ strips of Cypress fine crepe across the grain. Dot the first two inches of the strip with glue and wrap the stem where it meets the back of the flower, covering the tabs where the lily petals attach to the pistil. Stretch as you wrap to create a smoother stem.

Dot glue on the next three or four inches of the stem and continue wrapping with your fine crepe strip.  When you’ve covered all the glue, apply glue to the next three or four inches and wrap.  Continue until the whole stem is covered.  If you have a bump where the bottom of the stamens meet the stem, you can use additional strips to build up the area just below the stamen bottoms to create a smoother transition.

Finishing:

The petals often become mussed during wrapping, so gently adjust them and recurl if necessary.

Carefully bend the stem below the bloom to create an arc. I like for my lilies to be facing straight down.

To protect your flower from fading, you can spray it with Krylon matte UV protectant spray (in a well-ventilated place, while wearing a mask).

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

Meddling Mar part 10!

1, 2-3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Things were quiet, and even a bit tense between the boys for the rest of the afternoon. Mar was sulking, and Jak was brooding again. Daxter wished his arms were long enough to smack them both upside the head at the same time. If he'd ever had doubts that Mar was Jak’s childhood self, he certainly didn't now. Hopping between beds to keep Mar entertained and check on Jak’s mental state was exhausting when your legs were the approximate length of a four year old's.

As afternoon passed into evening, Daxter noticed that Jak grew more restless. He didn't leave their alcove -- none of them felt like interacting with the two or three men recovering from broken limbs and gunshot wounds in the rest of the ward -- but he paced between the beds often, stopping only to stand on the mattress and peer out the window at the sea. Daxter knew why: someone was supposed to bring them to the Spike King for "evaluation" sometime after sunset. And they'd already had more than their fair share of older folk scrutinizing them to determine their worth.

Daxter bounced up onto Jak’s bed and launched to his shoulder from there. For a moment he said nothing, simply watching the ocean with his best friend. Memories of chasing seagulls and digging for clams washed over him, and Daxter found himself longing to run through the waves.

"Do we have a plan, Jak?" he asked eventually, "What do we think about this place?"

Jak shrugged moodily. "We'll see if they can back up their talk with action. If we don't like it...I dunno. I don't know where we can go, Dax. What options do we really have?"

He leaned on the sill and pushed one hand through the small gap between a sliding screen and the frame. Fingers grasped at open air, feeling the sunlight beating down. Jak inhaled salty air and let it out slowly.

"It's quiet here," he whispered.

Daxter knew what he meant. They hadn’t heard shouting, or megaphones, or gunfire even once since waking in the ward. That had been a daily -- almost hourly -- occurrence in Haven for the last two years. Daxter wanted to interpret that as a good thing. A nice, quiet, place on the coast where maybe they could relax for once. He wouldn't even be afraid of the heat next to this much ocean. Maybe it could even be like home, if he squinted.

Daxter slipped down from Jak's shoulder and dropped to the flattened pillow.

"Okay, so, say we stick around. What's our plan for survival? Look for work like in Haven?"

Jak sighed and pulled his hand back inside the window. "I guess we should figure out whether they use the same currency as Haven. Then again, I don't think a crumpled ration card will get us far even if they did."

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the uneven length. Honestly, that was Petros's fault for leaving him unsupervised with a knife and matted hair. It was lighter, and cooler, certainly. But the random longer parts were driving him crazy. They brushed against his neck just so when he turned his head, and the skin there was beginning to get hypersensitive to it.

"So...maybe if the weather is good I can dive for artifacts to trade," Jak suggested, "Like we did when we were kids."

"Pal. We're still kids," Daxter retorted.

Jak scoffed. "Only according to these people."

He slid down the wall to collapse onto the pillow beside Daxter, and dropped a hand around the ottsel's shoulders.

"I'm...glad you're here, Dax."

Daxter dug an elbow into his side. "Told you I'd never ditch you again."

It was another hour before a stern looking old woman came to take them upstairs. She looked ancient, sunworn skin hardened practically to leather and bone-white hair hanging down her back in an iron-studded braid. The plait alone looked like a weapon.

With a disapproving squint, she beckoned them to follow her.

"Alright infants, evaluation time," she barked. Then she twisted her lips to one side, as if the words tasted funny. "Evaluation! Pah! Straight to a nursery, that's where you should be going. Look at you: not even old enough to earn a battle amulet!"

The old woman bore down on them like an omen of death. "Who left you out there, eh? Ought to be trussed up and left in Turquoise Canyon for the metalpedes, they should."

"Eep!"

Mar made a sound of alarm and ducked behind Jak, hiding from the wizened woman's piercing stare.

Jak shrugged. "They've got metalheads of their own to deal with," he scoffed.

"Yeah! Only they can't send us to do all their fighting for them anymore!" Daxter added.

He could admit to a little spiteful satisfaction at that.

Jak’s grimace didn't suggest that he felt the same way. While Daxter had learned at an early age to push back against every insult, every unfair blame laid on his young shoulders, Jak had just internalized it. He probably thought it would be his fault if people died in Haven while he wasn't there.

I oughta teach Jak the concept of sleeping in the bed you made...

The scary lady -- Ranger Priya, she told them to call her -- marched them up a winding spiral staircase with the energy of the hummerbird in the patch sewed onto the back of her vest. Daxter gave up walking and let Jak carry him after only twelve steps. Mar would have complained about the pace, but in order to keep from falling behind, he'd had to latch onto Jak’s hand.

"Lady," Jak groaned, "My brother has short legs. Can you slow it down before he yanks my arm out of its socket?"

"You call me Ranger, squirt. Not lady," Priya corrected him, "You think I wear the hummer for decoration?"

Jak blinked. "I...don't know?"

Priya turned around and stared at him as though she couldn't tell whether or not he was being serious. Then she raised her thick eyebrows.

"You really have been gone too long," she muttered enigmatically.

"Uh...what?" Daxter blinked slowly. "You wanna run that by us again?"

"Keep up!"

Groaning, the boys stumbled and scrambled their way up what felt like a mile of stairs behind the ranger. Her pace was relentless, and Jak could grudgingly admit that he was impressed. She reminded him of Uncle Erasmus with that energy.

I wonder how far he's gotten by now? Jak found himself wondering as Priya stopped at a deceptively simple door cut into a metal wall. Poor guy absolutely sucked as a guardian, but at least he never ordered us around.

"Huh. Can't tell if he's in there yet or not." Priya squinted through the door and shrugged.

"Shouldn't matter one way or the other. Alright, toddlers, this is your stop."

She stood back and jerked a thumb towards the open door. "Go play. Just don't break anything you can't fix or blame on somebody else. Damas will be along sooner or later."

Jak bristled at the condescension. Go play? Did he look like he played?

Mar let go of his hand and abandoned him in an instant. He darted into the room with a gasp of delight, and Jak came to the belated realization that Ranger Priya hadn't been condescending, she'd been speaking literally.

The entire room had been constructed to look like an indoor oasis, lined with small date palms and tomango plants leading down to three or four tiered streams that seemed to feed into each other in an endless current.

Jak had barely made it two steps in before Mar had discarded his shoes and jumped into the nearest pool of water. Daxter launched from his shoulder seconds later, scrambling to join their little brother.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Daxter hollered. He pinched his nose and made an impressive splash.

With a huff, Jak rolled his eyes and pulled off the flat, cloth shoes the monks made them wear in the ward. He sat down on one of the many boulders surrounding the water and dipped his feet into the gentle current. It was cool, but not cold -- a bit surprising, considering the heat.

"If you guys want to sleep in wet clothes, on a wet bed, with wet sheets, be my guest," Jak drawled. He leaned back on his hands. "I'll stay up here, thanks."

"Boo!" Mar jeered.

"Spoilsport!" Daxter added.

"Just for that, you can walk back down all those stairs yourself," Jak retorted.

Dramatically, Daxter flopped backwards, barely giving Mar enough time to catch him in an impromptu trust fall.

"Oh, such cruelty!" Daxter gasped, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "You abandon us? You abandon your poor little brothers to suffer the cruel cruel stairs alone?!"

Unimpressed, Jak pointed out, "Dax, you're older than me."

"But my legs are shorter! O have pity!" Daxter slid from Mar's arms to land in the pool with a wet plop.

"You killed him!" Mar feigned outrage. "Jail for big brother! Jail for a hundred years!"

"A hundred years?" A new voice interrupted, "That seems a little excessive."

Damas strolled casually across the stepping stones leading from the right half of the chamber, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Surely ninety would suffice?"

Jak groaned. "Don't encourage them, they just get worse!"

Then he blinked.

"Wait, how did you know what he said?"

The Wastelander king came to a stop close to where Jak sat and raised a brow. "You expected me not to understand him?"

All three boys glanced at each other briefly, the same confusion evident on all three faces. Mar tossed a whisper to Jak-

"I thought Uncle E said you made our language up?"

"That's what he and Samos always said-?"

Damas snorted and raised his own hands.

"You are using the national language of Spargus. Whoever "Uncle E" and "S Leaf" are, they clearly are not Spargan."

He was using their language.

It wasn't the signing Onin used, the one the Havenites seemed to think was the only sign language. It wasn’t some variation of theirs. The man was using their signs.

Shaken, Jak drew his feet up out of the water and stood. Damas was still taller by a good several inches, but it made him feel at least a little more in control of his situation to be looking the man in the eye.

"What do you mean national language?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest, "Why would we know a language from a city we've never been to?"

Damas studied him before answering with an uncomfortable, considering gaze.

"Well that's the question, isn't it?" he said quietly.

There was a weight to the king’s words that settled heavily on the boys, stilling even Mar's fidgeting.

When Damas lowered himself to sit cross-legged on one of the stepping stones, they found themselves following suit -- with a bit more effort on Mar's part to hoist himself and Daxter onto another stepping stone.

"I understand you've been through some...trying...circumstances," Damas said, "but nonetheless I expect you to answer me as honestly as you are able. Maintaining privacy is one thing, but understand that I do not tolerate lies."

Jak’s fingers tightened, stiffened into claws against his upper arms. The linen strips they'd wrapped around his old needle scars wrinkled and twisted, and his stomach seemed to twist in answer. It was bad enough that someone had seen the scars. If Damas asked about them-

Shame prickled in Jak’s chest.

No. Nobody needed to know. Especially not Mar.

"Fine," Jak bit out, "But what I say depends on the question. He doesn't need to hear everything."

He jerked his head in Mar’s direction meaningfully.

He couldn't tell if it irritated him or relieved him that Damas accepted this with no more than a nod.

"Very well. Then we will begin with questions of a less personal nature."

Damas steepled his fingers in front of him.

"So. We have Jak, "It's A Secret", and Daxter, ages roughly sixteen, eight-ish, and...unknown. No papers, no guardians, no known reason to be out in the Strider Range alone."

"Sixteen?" Jak interrupted, scowling, "I'm older than sixteen!"

By how much, he wasn't certain, but he wasn't going to say that he'd lost track of time in prison. That would give Mar too many questions to ask.

"Not by much, according to your bone scans," Damas replied calmly. "Seventeen at the oldest."

Well. That was a bit unfortunate. Maybe that explained why he had such a hard time growing facial hair, though? Or maybe he was doomed to just never have a full beard, like Mal the Sculptor back in Sandover.

Jak made a face.

"Only seventeen at the oldest?" he groaned.

"Could've been worse, I guess."

Then he pointed to Daxter.

"He's nineteen. Dax is human. He just looks like an animal."

There was a small but significant flicker of mischief in Jak that enjoyed the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Damas’s face.

"All...right...that's..." Damas blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. "I'm going to...move past that for now."

He cleared his throat.

"Where are your parents?"

Daxter's eyes widened, and he made a slashing motion across his throat, trying to indicate to the king that this was not a welcome topic of discussion. Too late.

Jak’s eyes darkened, and Mar scowled and looked away.

"Don't know," Jak said shortly, "Never met them."

Narrowing his eyes, Damas glanced from Jak to Mar and back again. "You never met your own parents. But you would have been old enough to remember when Seek was born?"

Mar shrugged angrily. "Loghead said he wasn't s'posed to remember I existed."

It was all Damas could do to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an impending headache.

These kids were going to make a lot of paperwork for the monks, he could already tell.

[microsuedemouse]

I don’t know if you guys recall the pants nonsense I’ve been up to, but I wanna show off another pair! today’s was the third pair I did, and I tried something a bit different and of course made things more difficult for myself :)

new thing: wedge-shaped inset going down to the knee, rather than a stripe down the full length of the leg, as the last two pairs have been.

actually, for that matter, I never showed you guys the second pair—

have some screenshots from my ig story highlight bc apparently I’ve already deleted the original pics from my phone. (also. hm. I guess this is my Sewing Shirt. in fairness I do wear this shirt a lot)

anyway. today’s process pics and other nonsense under the cut in case anyone is interested!

okay. so. this whole half-leg thing came about partially bc this particular pair of jeans was already pretty roomy in the leg, but actually mostly bc I had some fun fabric kicking around that I wanted to use but that wasn’t long enough for the entire pant leg. I’m still using upholstery scraps of my mom’s - while the first two pairs were done with fabric she never got around to using, this fabric is leftover from when she recovered the seats on our dining room chairs, like, a decade ago. I’ve always loved the patterns we used for that project, and I’m kinda delighted I have another use for some of the remaining fabric.

decent, actually-sharp pinking shears have made a world of difference to this project, btw.

also, something neat about this fabric in particular is that it doesn’t have a wrong side! I could’ve used either side on the outside. I chose the side that’s facing up in that pic on the left there - with the continuous pattern in colour and the off-white parts broken up. I also cut the pieces along the same axis that the colour stripes fall, which is why - as you can see in those pics at the top - one inset is mostly blue and one is mostly green.

I’ve been doing my best to Be A Grownup about this project and actually pin things in place before sewing. I hate pinning, and it was particularly challenging this time, but I did do it. :|

you may notice I also safety pinned the pockets together. this is bc when I removed the side seam from the pants, I also cut out the pocket rivet so I wouldn’t have to sew around it, as that was a real challenge in my first pair. with pair two I removed the rivet but then had the pocket layers flopping around and not wanting to line up anymore. so, pair three, pin those layers together. She Can Learn!

something I didn’t do, but wish I’d done, is sew the bottom of each wedge/V-shape before the sides. would have made things simpler and probably also tidier. but hey, I learn something new with each pair.

basted the seams, which was kind of a bitch - again, I could probably have done things in a different order to save myself some trouble. checked the fit, then finished the seams with a zig-zag stitch. fought with the thread tension a lot. such is life. did the bottoms of the V-shapes by hand at the end - they’re not perfect, but they’re good enough. do you know how many people will compliment you on visibly altered clothes even when you know there are big mistakes in them? it turns out almost no one actually knows how to do this stuff.

trimmed off the excess fabric from the seams at this stage. I wanted to do it sooner, because I was struggling to mentally match up the exterior wedge shapes with the interior rectangles, but I think it was best to leave things untrimmed until the end - leaves me space to fuck up, lmao.

I also strengthened the waistband a bit, in the same way I did with my second pair - by folding the fabric over a couple times at the top and (carefully) stitching lines to at least approximately match the seams on the original waistband. I rarely tuck in my shirt, and I’m usually wearing a belt, so I’m not super fussed about that part being really tidy, but I like the continuity of the lines. (also: I even busted out the iron to get those creases nice and clean. christ, I must be serious.)

and that’s about it! I’m pretty happy with the result, and they feel really comfy to wear. I was playing some good music while I worked, and did a little dancin’ around once I had them on… I think they pass the test :)

[adickaboutspoons]

Ship-shaped, part I give up

I'm lying. I will never shut up about this stupid (affectionate) ship.

As ever, Part 1 - What we know Part 2 - Best Guesses Part 3 - Rampant Speculation and Vile Calumny Part 4 - A Proportional Response Part 5 - Not-so-secret Stairs

Hey, @nicnacsnonsense. Ready to get mad. Again. Some more?

Remember when we counted the windows and found out there's no way the interior set matches the rear exterior shots from Ep8? That it's bigger on the inside?

So the back wall of windows is slightly bowed in the exterior rear shot, right? But not ostentatiously so. Definitely not so much that you would expect to see a whole window from a profile view of the ship, right?

Thar she blows.

Maybe this is nothing. Maybe I'm a big dummy who knows jack shit about how curved surfaces look when viewed from different angles.

But it sure looks like an angled wall to me.

As if this dissonance between the rear angle (no angled walls here, thanks) and the side view (angled wall sighting confirmed), how about those proportions in the side view, huh?

We know that Stede's bed has two windows over it, and that there's light from a 3rd window beaming in from straight ahead when Stede and Ed enter the aux closet. So, using the two windows closest to the back of the ship in profile, I'm saying that's the marker for where Stede's bed would be in the interior. We also know that the key of the archway outside Stede's bed nook is lined up with the 3rd of 5 ceiling joists that run starboard-to-port, making it the mid-way point of the room, more-or-less. I am being SO generous here, using the place where the ceiling joists would be above the out-ward leaning windows instead of the actual floorspace. So if we VERY GENEROUSLY count the same amount of space from the windows to the center of the bed nook as from that center-of-the-bed-nook marker further toward the bow, that should give us the entire length of the state room, and an approximate marker for where the door from the hall into Stede's room should go. I've marked this on the picture above with a black box.

Now let's say that the library is as deep again as half the length of the state room. Again, I'm being SO GENEROUS here.

But also hashtag mizzenmast chimneygate.

I've marked off that space with the white box above.

I'm putting the head of the stairs at the railing at the top of the quarterdeck. I doubt it goes very much further astern than that. Now accounting for a VERY GENEROUS wide hallway that can easily fit at least two men abreast, there's still chunk. A chunk I've marked with a sickening green bracket. WHAT THE FUNK GOES IN THE CHUNK? It's a very generous space, a space between the fireplace wall of the (VERY GENEROUS) library and the interior wall of the (VERY GENEROUS) hallway that is at least as wide as the hallway itself.

Am I moving my naughty aux library back?

(I cannot tell you how much it pains me to put the bathroom there. Ed, in his frantic state, would have had to moved the chair and put it back to come through a secret door in this position. There is no window on the outside of the this that matches the window next to the tub. But apparently none of the outside windows match the interior ones, so why not?)

Or am I just accepting that the Revenge is totally a TARDIS. Fuck it. That's where the swimming pool goes.

Also - notice anything weird about the shot from Ep8 vs the profile shot from Ep1?

The gun deck is absolutely at water-level in Ep8. There's no way water isn't coming in through those port holes. Girl help! The ship is sinking!