#elliptic reply

[lipstick-and-libraries]

New Dorm, New Chance? PT. 1

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: You are Kitty's new Roommate, after she decided to switch Rooms to avoid Yuri and Juliana, and it's not long until you get the opportunity to meet her first roommates.

𓋜 Notes:

Hey <3

I don't know if anyone is gonna read this at all, but I decided to get back into writing, and due to Season Two coming out, I have an unhealthy obsession with XO, Kitty. So, I sat down, saw the lack of XO, Kitty fics and created a little something, I hope you enjoy! I'd be grateful for any kind of feedback

The second semester at KISS was off to a chaotic start, as usual, but for Kitty Song Covey, things were finally starting to settle down. After pleading with the principal, she’d managed to switch dorms and move in with a close friend of hers, (Y/N). It was a decision that made perfect sense—Kitty needed a break from the awkward tension of her old room, and (Y/N)’s calming presence was exactly what she needed to focus on her whirlwind of romantic and academic entanglements.

(Y/N) had been nothing short of the perfect roommate. She was effortlessly chic, deeply intuitive, and, unlike most students at KISS, refreshingly down-to-earth. Kitty often marveled at how (Y/N) could command attention without even trying. The girl had a natural elegance that seemed to enchant everyone she met.

One Saturday afternoon, Kitty left their shared dorm to meet up with Yuri to continue the search for her family. “Dae, Minho, and Q might stop by later,” she called over her shoulder. “I told them they could hang out until I’m back.”

“Got it,” (Y/N) replied, lounging on the kitchen counter with a book in her hands.

When Minho, Dae, and Q arrived at Kitty’s new dorm, Minho was mid-rant about his latest gym mishap.

“Who even uses the elliptical when the treadmill’s free? It’s practically a crime—”

“Minho,” Q interrupted, rolling his eyes. “You’ll live. Just knock on the door.”

Minho sighed dramatically before rapping his knuckles against the door. When no one answered, he opened it cautiously.

“Kitty? We’re here—”

But it wasn’t Kitty who greeted them. Instead, they were met with the sight of (Y/N) sitting on the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other, a book perched casually in her hands. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to frame her like a painting, catching the soft waves of her hair and the slight smirk on her lips.

Minho stopped mid-step, his usual self-assured demeanor faltering.

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, glancing up from her book. Her voice was smooth, effortlessly composed. “You must be Kitty’s friends.”

Dae offered a polite smile. “Yeah, I’m Dae. That’s Q, and… Minho.”

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes flickering briefly to Minho, who was still standing frozen by the door.

“Kitty mentioned you might drop by,” (Y/N) said, closing her book and hopping off the counter with a grace that made Minho’s heart stutter. “She’s out snooping with Yuri again, but you’re welcome to wait here.”

“Cool, thanks,” Q said, settling onto the couch. Dae followed suit, but Minho hesitated, still trying to gather his thoughts.

“She’s—” Minho started, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He coughed, trying to sound casual. “She didn’t say her new roommate was…you know, you.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She wasn't exactly popular by any means, but she also wasn't completely unknown. She leads a couple of language and study courses, and word spread that its not only brains, but beauty too that convinced people to visit her student courses.

As the afternoon wore on, Minho found himself increasingly distracted. While Dae and Q scrolled through their phones and chatted, Minho’s attention kept drifting to (Y/N). There was something about her thsn threw him off, and not in a bad way. Where most people at KISS seemed eager to impress or compete, (Y/N) seemed content just to exist in her own world.

She didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk or flashy gestures. Instead, she moved with an easy confidence, offering the occasional witty comment that left Minho scrambling for a clever response.

At one point, she caught him staring.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Minho flushed. “Uh, no. Just…trying to figure out what book you were reading before.”

(Y/N) held up the cover—an old, leather-bound edition of Wuthering Heights.

Minho blinked. “You’re reading…that? Isn’t it, like, super depressing?”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) countered, a faint smile playing on her lips. “And complicated. Kind of like people. You should borrow it sometime”

Minho didn’t know how to respond to that, so he settled for an awkward nod.

After an hour, Q and Dae decided to head out to grab food. “You coming, Minho?” Dae asked, already halfway out the door.

“I’ll catch up,” Minho said quickly, waving them off.

(Y/N) lead the two boys to the door, giving them the spare key Kitty had told her to give to them, and apologizes for Kitty being this late. Once the door closed, the room fell quiet.

Minho shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“So…how do you know Kitty?” he asked finally, leaning against the back of the couch.

“We met at orientation,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s…unlike anyone else. In a good way.”

Minho chuckled. “That’s one way to describe her.”

(Y/N) grabs her book and puts it away on the small shelf standing in the living room and looked at him, her gaze steady but not intimidating. “And what about you? How do you know Kitty?”

“She’s…” Minho hesitated, then shrugged. “Complicated.”

(Y/N)’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “You should know a thing or two about that, based on what i've already seen from you”

For the first time, Minho felt like someone had peeled back the layers of his carefully curated persona. Most people saw him as the charming, confident playboy, but (Y/N) seemed to see through all of that.

The turning point came when (Y/N) decided to make tea.

“Want some?” she asked, holding up a kettle.

“Sure,” Minho said, joining her in the kitchen.

As they stood side by side, he found himself relaxing for the first time all day. (Y/N) handed him a mug, her fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, but he played it off, sipping his tea like nothing had happened.

“This is good,” he said, gesturing to the tea.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) replied. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said, her smile teasing.

When Kitty returned later that evening, she found Minho still in the dorm, sitting on the couch with (Y/N). They were deep in conversation, their laughter filling the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Minho said quickly, standing up. “I was just—uh—leaving.”

As he walked past (Y/N), he hesitated for a moment. “See you around?”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) replied, her tone light but her eyes warm.

After Minho left, Kitty turned to (Y/N), a knowing grin spreading across her face. “What was that about?”

(Y/N) shrugged, but her cheeks flushed slightly. “Nothing. Just talking.”

Kitty didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

(Y/N) gives her a grin of her own and links her arm with Kitty's.

"While we're on the topic, how'd your little date with Yuri go?"

Kitty's eyes go wide, nudging (Y/N) playfully while laughing

"Hey! I'm the one asking Questions, not you!"

That night, as Minho lay in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N). The way she smiled, the way she seemed to see right through him, the way her laugh made his chest feel lighter.

For the first time in a long time, Minho felt something real—something that scared him but also excited him.

Part 2

[ryuuna]

Would you mind if I ask what coloring brush(es) you use? I've been searching for so long for a solid coloring brush on procreate 😭 (I started using procreate recently)

And if you don't wanna share I totally understand! pls just ignore me if that's the case :) thank you!!

OOP sorry for the late reply I just got back from vacation BUT here's a link to the brushes I use most!

Rugged Fill is what I use to do all my flatting with and Hard Elliptical is what I usually do all my shading with (honorary mention to soft shadows for adding my subtle gradients)

[tessa-liam]

Free Falling

All is Fair in Love and War, part 3

Two 2 Tango >>>mini-series

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir Book 2 AU

Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x F! OC, Daniella Gandi

Summary: Maxwell is invited to take part as a tango dance partner in an upcoming tango festival in Italy by Daniela Gandi. A dance instructor that helped Liam and Riley win a competition in Auvernal 5 years previously, felt sparks fly between herself and her assigned partner, Maxwell Beaumont.

◇Mini-series inspired by the one-shot: All is Fair in Love & War ◇

Warnings: sexual innuendo

Song Inspiration:

Category: fluff, mini series

This story has not been Beta'd, please excuse all errors.

Series Rating: Adult, 18+

Word Count: ~1600

A/N: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except for Daniella Gandi, who belongs to this alternate universe.

A/N2: submission for: @choicesmonthlychallenge Prompt- Lust

A/N3: submission for: CFWC Valentine's Day 2025 Prompt- Romance, a secret couple tries to celebrate the day without getting caught

❤️‍🔥Turin, Italy

Maxwell stood on the balcony of his hotel room, gazing out over the city below. The sky was a bright blue, and the sun was shining brightly as he slid his shades on, to block the brightness. He sipped his espresso as he felt the warm breeze on his skin.

His phone chimed, and he looked down at the screen. A smile spread quickly across his face as he saw the text from Riley.

Riley: 'Buongiorno, é San Valentino 💘'

[Good morning Max, It's Valentine's Day]

Maxwell: 'Hey, Ri🥰 Yes, I'm planning a late dinner in the piazza downtown for Daniella.'

Riley: 'Sounds romantic.' 😘

Maxwell: 'Yeah ...tks'

Riley: Thank you again for taking part in the competition

Maxwell: It is my pleasure, and I'm having so much fun dancing with Daniella.She's such an amazing woman, we are having a blast😁

Riley: You really like her, don't you?

Maxwell: I do😍.

Riley: Then, go for it, Max!

Maxwell: What?

Riley: You're crazy about her, and you should tell her how you feel.

Maxwell: No way.

Riley: Why not?

Maxwell: Well, first off, she's my partner, and we need to stay focused on winning this competition.

Second, we only just got back in touch, and I don't want to scare her off.

Third, I have no idea if she even feels the same way.

Riley: Well, you won't know unless you ask her.

Maxwell: I can't.

Riley: Why not?

Maxwell: What if I tell her and she says no?

❤️‍🔥Tango di Daniella Dance Studio

Walking into the studio, Maxwell swiftly climbed the stairs up and into the exercise room and stopped suddenly. The view from the upstairs balcony was breathtaking, with a beautiful panoramic view of the city skyline. The exercise room itself was spacious and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows letting in natural light. A variety of exercise machines and equipment scattered around the room; including treadmills, ellipticals, and stationary bikes.

In the corner, Daniella was effortlessly completing a series of provocative stretches, that showed off her toned legs and arms. She was wearing a pair of tight leggings and a sports bra, and her long, dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail.

As she stretched, she turned to face Maxwell, a smile playing on her lips. "Hey, Maxxie! Avanti, non essere timido!" [Come on in, don't be shy].

Maxwell nodded and stepped into the room. He took another moment to admire her figure, noting how fit and lean she was. "You look amazing, Daniella," he said, his cheeks flushed slightly.

Daniella smiled demurely and shrugged. "Grazie, Max. I try to stay in shape." [Thanks]

"It shows," Maxwell replied, unable to take his eyes off her.

Daniella chuckled softly, a hint of pink appearing on her cheeks. "Well, thank you. Shall we get started?"

Maxwell nodded, taking a deep breath. He was not sure why he was so nervous. The fact that he was about to dance with the woman he'd fallen in love with made him a little bit jittery.

Daniella straightened her body and moved into the starting position. "All right, Max, let's start with some basic steps. Just follow my lead," Daniella instructed, her tone confident and assured.

She started with a simple walk, and Maxwell tried to follow along, but his steps were a bit clumsy. Daniella gave him an encouraging smile. "It's okay, Max. Don't be afraid to be a little bit awkward. That's what makes it fun."

Maxwell took a deep breath and tried again, this time managing to keep his steps in line with Daniella's.

Daniella smiled and nodded, clearly pleased. "There you go! Now, let's try a little turn. Just follow my lead, and I'll show you the steps."

She demonstrated the move, and Maxwell followed along, albeit a little awkwardly. But he started to get the hang of it after a few tries, and Daniella was quick to praise him.

"You're a natural, Max! Keep it up, and we'll be winning this competition in no time," she commented, grinning broadly.

As the morning wore on, Maxwell felt more and more comfortable, and his steps become more fluid and confident.

"That's it, Max! You've got it," Daniella encouraged him, her eyes sparkled with pride

Daniella, in a blur of motion, her lithe body moved effortlessly through the steps, demonstrated s new routine.

Maxwell tried his best to keep up, but she is simply too fast for him.

She grinned as she finished the routine, and Maxwell could not help but feel a bit impressed.

"Wow, Daniella, that was incredible," he said, a little breathless.

"Thanks, Max," she replied, flashing him a smile.

"I'm a little worried about adding the more risque moves though," Maxwell replied. "What if I can't keep up?"

"Don't worry, Max," Daniella reassures him. "I'll go slow, and you can take your time learning the steps. And if you're really stuck, we can always stop and work on them some more."

Maxwell took a deep breath and nodded. "All right. I'm ready."

"Okay, let's try it again," Daniella said, getting into position.

She walked him through the steps, and this time, Maxwell managed to keep up without too much difficulty.

"Perfecto!" Daniella exclaimed. "You've got it, Max!"

"This is going to be amazing," Daniella said, her eyes twinkling.

Maxwell nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I hope so."

"Don't worry, Max, I know you'll do great," she replied, and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Now, let's practice those sexy moves," her voice dropped to a sultry purr.

She showed him how to move his hips, his body curving sensually as he does.

"Like this," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

Maxwell's heart was racing as he followed her lead, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

"Good," she murmured, her hands trailed over his chest.

Maxwell's forbidden thoughts and desires took center stage in his mind.

"Let's take it up a notch," she said, a wicked grin on her face.

"Oh, yes," he replied, his voice low and husky.

The air was charged with electricity as they move closer, their bodies pressed together.

Daniella's lips were inches from his, and Maxwell could not resist any longer.

He closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a searing kiss.

Daniella gasped, as Maxwell deepened the kiss, his tongue slid into her mouth. Her hands tangled n his hair as their bodies meld together.

The heat between them was scorching, and Maxwell knew that there's was no turning back now.

A loud cough interrupted the air.

Maxwell's body tensed at the sound as he turned his head and saw her.

"Daniella," her mother scolded. "Dovresti insegnare al tuo partner i passi di danza, non pomiciare con lui." ["You are supposed to be teaching your partner the dance moves, not making out with him."]

"MI dispiace, mamma." [I am sorry, mamma."]

Her mother shook her head, a stern look on her face.

"Tornate tutti e due al lavoto," ["Get back to work, both of you,"] she said, before leaving the room.

Maxwell and Daniella exchanged glances, a smile played on his lips.

"We'd better get back to it," Daniella said, her voice still breathless from their passionate kiss.

Maxwell nodded, trying to compose himself.

"Right," he replied, his pulse still racing.

"So, where were we?" Daniella asked, her eyes locked on his.

Maxwell grinned, his thoughts full of forbidden desires.

"Let's get back to those sexy moves," he says, his voice low and husky.

Daniella smiled demurely, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I thought you'd never ask," she purred, her body moved seductively against his.

Maxwell can't help but feel like the luckiest man alive as Daniella's arms wrapped around him, her body pressed against his.

He knew that they had a dance competition to win, but right now, the only thing on his mind was her.

❤️‍🔥Piazza di torino [Piazza of Turin]

"You did what?" Maxwell exclaimed, his eyes widened with shock.

"I know, it was crazy," Daniella replied, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "But I had to do it."

"You didn't have to marry him, though," Maxwell pointed out, still trying to process her revelation.

"I know," Daniella admitted, her smile faded slightly. "But he's a good man, and I really like him and I think you're the one for me, too."

Maxwell remained in stunned silence, thinking to himself, 'stop looking at me like that - I can't guarantee for anything right now.'

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents @choicesmonthlychallenge

[iboatedhere]

💔 for firstprince please!!

“Hope you guys had a great workout and before you go, don’t forget to take one of these. Friends and family deal—twenty percent off when they sign up and two free months for you. The offer is good until the end of the month. Make sure you tell all your friends.”

Henry stops in the hall between the exit and the locker room and watches as Alex, in leggings and a dark blue polo that shows off every curve of his upper body, hands a stack of coupons to an older couple on their way out. 

He’s done his best to avoid moments just like this since the day they met, nearly four months ago. Alex was giving him a tour before Henry signed up—showing him the machines and asking about his goals. Henry didn’t have any. He was only there because his therapist suggested he get out of the apartment a few nights a week and as much as Henry hated to admit it, he was turning into a bit of a recluse. 

Alex was friendly and informative and beautiful and Henry was so distracted he tripped right over an errant set of barbells and landed ass up on the padded floor. To make matters worse, while he was down there, a Grindr notification pinged. Loudly. 

Henry should have ran away with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead he picked himself up and followed Alex to the front counter where he signed a contract to pay one dollar down then fifteen dollars a month after that. 

Henry has done his best to avoid him. Tries not to make eye contact, doesn’t engage in small talk, never asks him the proper way to use a machine. When he saw Alex post up at the front door with his stack of coupons, Henry stayed on the elliptical for an extra thirty minutes, hoping that Alex would move on. After that was the treadmill and then the stair climber then every weight machine that was available. When that wasn’t enough he retreated into the locker room to take a shower that lasted so long he was interrupted by a banging on the door and a threat to tell the front desk to send someone to force him out. 

Now he is standing on wobbly legs with wet hair and no way out but through. 

Alex, bless him, smiles like Henry didn’t embarrass himself to within an inch of his life when they first met and holds out a coupon. 

“Friends and family discount,” he says brightly. 

“I don’t have any family,” Henry says and Alex’s smile falls. “I mean, I do,” he adds quickly. “It’s just that they all live in England and my sister is really the only one that would be mildly interested.”

“Friends then,” Alex tries. 

“Don’t really have any of those,” Henry replies and Alex winces. “My roommate!” Henry exclaims, “he’s my friend—although I don’t believe you’d ever catch him dead in a gym. He’s more a fan of other recreational activities. I’m not as pathetic as I seem,” Henry continues, because once he starts he apparently cannot stop. “I’ve only been living here for about six months and it’s hard to meet people…or at least it’s hard for me to meet people. I am trying though, that’s part of the reason why I downloaded Grindr but I’ve deleted that—.” He deflates with a heavy sigh. “I should go and quite possibly never come back.”

With a nod he steps around Alex but Alex darts in front of him and pulls a pen from the breast pocket of his polo. 

“Here,” Alex says, scribbling something on the top of the coupon and handing it over. “That’s my number. You should use it sometime.”

Henry stares down at it and Alex shakes the coupon, trying to get him to take it. 

“Why are you giving me this?”

“Because you said it’s hard to meet people. I’d like to meet you.”

“You’ve met me,” Henry says slowly.

“Well, I wanna meet you more,” Alex tells him. “Text me. We’ll get coffee sometime.” He stops and looks him over then bats a set of ridiculously long lashes. “Or maybe something more.”

Henry nods and takes a coupon, knees weak for an entirely new reason.

[melishade]

Damn it. Number 1?

This ask game

Autobot Anthology. Autobots make an ice skating rink for the winter.

Halloween Movies

Emblem

Lobbing

"Primus, I hate the winter," Arcee groaned, feeling her body jolt in a shiver from the chill of the snowy winds. The Survey Corps and the Autobots were currently residing at the neutral ship. They were trying to conserve energon for the larger ship, but that meant the inside of the ship had to be cold.

"We all do! It sucks!" Sasha yelled as Connie threw some snow in her face.

"We just need to get some extra stuff and we can go back to the walls," Hanji insisted.

"I call riding with Optimus!" Jean raised his hand.

"Bullshit!" Connie and Eren yelled at him.

"What?! He has a heating system! I don't want to get sick!" Jean retorted.

"We have a rotating system!" Eren reminded.

"Well, we need to make sure Optimus is feeling well rested before we return to the walls," Hanji reminded, "If he gets sick, we can't treat him, and we don't want him pushing himself!"

Hanji hollered that last part down the hall, and Optimus finally revealed himself to the others holding an empty energon cube.

"I will properly refuel." The Prime sounded a little annoyed.

"Thank you!" Hanji called out in a faux innocent manner.

Wheeljack exited the deck of the ship, holding some wires in his servos. "Isn't wintertime super popular on Earth?"

"Freezing your ass off is popular thing on Earth?" Levi deadpanned.

"Well no," Arcee explained, "Earth has this famous end of the year celebration called Christmas. Very festive. After that, there's a bunch of other winter sports. Skating was fun. We turned the base into an ice-skating rink."

"Well, that sounds more like a luxury," Mikasa declared, "We just want to survive the winter. The closest thing to fun is just playing in the snow. But nothing festive."

"Huh, maybe that's why you hate winter so much," Wheeljack proclaimed, "You guys aren't making it fun."

"Let's just go back to the Walls," Armin sighed.

"I can take some of you guys back. I have a heating system too," Wheeljack informed.

"Yes!" Connie screamed.

"Please do!" Sasha begged.

Arcee grabbed Wheeljack's arm before the Wrecker left to put the wires in the Jackhammer.

"What's up?" Wheeljack asked her.

"Do you know how to make an ice-skating rink?" Arcee asked.

"No," Wheeljack answered.

"Want to make one?" Arcee asked.

"A little bit nice for you," Wheeljack remarked.

"Honestly, they really need a break," Arcee confessed.

"Fair enough," Wheeljack shrugged, "When do you want to get started?"

==

A few days later

The Survey Corps were stunned at what they were looking at. Optimus had approached them all, proclaiming that Arcee and Wheeljack had requested their presence. When Hanji pressed the Prime on the matter, he looked rather perplexed. He had no clue what Arcee and Wheeljack had planned. They had followed the Prime through the snow, thankfully, no storm was to be had. The sky was as clear as day. When they arrived at the location, they were stunned to see a large elliptical platform of ice surrounded by a wooden railing. The ice was so smooth that they could see their reflection in it.

"Whoa!" the 104th exclaimed in excitement.

"You made it," Arcee spoke up as she walked onto the rink. The Survey Corps watched as she slid towards them with grace before slowly to a stop, almost getting some ice residue on them.

"What is all this?!" Hanji asked with giddy.

"Ice skating rink," Arcee answered, "Humans on Earth use it for fun, and the humans we knew turned the base into a rink one time. I...thought you guys could use the fun, so..."

The two-wheeler gestured to the rink before her. "Surprise."

"That is quite considerate of you," Optimus praised.

"Yep," Arcee replied curtly.

"Is it...safe?" Levi couldn't help but ask as he tapped his foot on the edge of the ice.

"Oh, Wheeljack's been testing it for the past hour," Arcee answered with a shrug.

"YEAH!" Wheeljack screamed as he slid across the ice right behind Arcee. The Survey Corps were surprised to see him, but the two-wheeler didn't bat an optic.

"Should be fine," Arcee finished, "Ice skates are over there."

Arcee pointed to a row of shoes with blades attached to the bottom of them.

"And this is going to be your first time, so the railing will be super important," Arcee proclaimed as she skated backwards to provide more space, "Ready to try it?"

"Yep!" Hanji raced towards the skates and took of their shoes as quickly as possible.

"C'mon!" Armin beckoned Mikasa and Eren to follow him, and the two obliged.

"Let's have a race!" Sasha told the others as she ran to the skates.

"I'll kick your ass!" Jean swore as he and Connie followed.

As the rest of the Survey Corps went to put on the skates, Optimus noticed that Levi was remaining put in his spot.

"Do you not wish to join them?" Optimus asked him.

"Someone needs to make sure to get them to a hospital if they get hurt," Levi answered, the Prime could tell that Levi looked a little tense.

As they finished putting on the skates, the humans stared at the ice rink with apprehension. However, it was Armin who managed to muster up the courage to be on the ice. When Armin stepped on the ice, he yelped as he slipped forward and landed on his butt.

"Ow!" Armin yelled.

"Armin, are you okay?!" Eren called out as he tried to help him up, but he ended up slipping forward and hitting the ice face first.

"HAH!" Jean cackled.

"That's what the railings are for," Arcee spoke as she kneeled down and helped both teens to their feet, "The key to this is balance, similar to the 3D gear. Balance on your heels. Back straight."

Arcee helped the two of them straighten their backs before letting them go. Armin and Eren were relieved to be standing, but...

"How do we move?" Armin asked.

"Keep your balance, and one foot in front of the other," Arcee instructed, "Small steps first. Treat it like you're walking."

Both teens followed Arcee's instructions, taking slow wobbly steps forward. Mikasa was afraid both were going to fall again and rushed onto the ice, but the Ackerman suddenly found herself gliding past the both of them and across the ice.

"How do I stop?!" Mikasa called out with worry.

"Twist your feet to the side! Opposite of the direction you're going!" Arcee called out.

Mikasa did as she was told, turning her feet perpendicular to the direction she was heading, but she still ended up losing her balance and falling onto her side.

"Mikasa!" Eren called out while Sasha was laughing.

"Okay." Hanji placed a hand under their chin before stepping onto the ice, "Balance!" Hanji yelped as they waved their arms around before holding them out to keep their balance. They then started taking small steps while keeping their arms out.

"I'm doing it!" Hanji squealed as they were slowly gliding across the ice.

"I'm just gonna stick to the railing," Connie proclaimed as he grabbed onto the wood before getting on the ice. Connie yelled as his feet kicked erratically before he was able to find his balance. He took small steps, using the railing as a way to get around the rink.

"You mastered the 3D gear. You can do this," Jean psyched himself up before stepping onto the ice. Jean let out of yell as he struggled to find his balance. He ended up bending his knees together and holding his hands out before sliding along the ice, "This is fine."

Sasha scoffed. "Amateurs." The huntress cracked her neck before getting into a sprinting position. She then started running across the ice like it was nothing before skidding to a stop next to Mikasa.

"Hi!" she greeted to the Ackerman still on the floor.

"HOW?!" Eren yelled.

"I lived next to a river I had to walk across when it was frozen to get some game when food was in short supply!" Sasha answered.

"I mean...she's technically doing it right," Arcee admitted, but was still baffled.

"There's no way," Jean deadpanned.

"She's doing it like a hockey player," Arcee explained.

"What the hell is hockey?!" Connie called out.

"Human sport!" Wheeljack called out as he slid across the ice once more.

"Where is he coming from?" Armin asked in confusion.

"I'm more than willing to provide help," Arcee offered.

"Yes, please!" Jean pleaded.

As time passed, Mikasa managed to quickly pick up on skating, gliding across the ice with practical ease. Sasha still took to running across the ice, racing Jean who was just barely managing to glide. Eren and Armin held onto each other for support, refusing to let each other go. Hanji was laughing with delight before they fell once more. Even so they struggled to get back up on their feet to try again. Connie had finally gotten off of the railing and was now getting help from Arcee on how to properly balance himself.

"See, you're getting the hang of it," Arcee complimented Connie as she let go of him and allowed him to balance on his own.

Hanji yelled as they slammed into the wooden railing, but they didn't let the pain bother them as they found themselves face to face with Levi and Optimus. "Levi, come join us on the ice!"

"No thanks." Levi turned it down.

"C'mon! It's fun!" Hanji pleaded.

"Majority of you are falling on your asses," Levi retorted, "I'm surprised no one broke anything yet."

"Does bruising count?" Hanji asked him.

"I'm not doing it," Levi declared, earning a raspberry from Hanji before they pushed themselves backwards on the ice.

"Do you really wish to miss out on this experience?" Optimus asked him.

"I don't see you on the ice," Levi shot back.

"I suppose you are right," Optimus didn't deny that. He still managed to catch glimpses of Wheeljack gliding across the ice in bursts, "Wheeljack."

The Wrecker stopped when he heard the Prime call for him.

"How much weight is the ice able to sustain?" Optimus asked him.

"Enough," Wheeljack answered, "I was able to put the Jackhammer on this thing."

"Very well." Wheeljack was surprised when Optimus stepped over the railing, being mindful of the humans, before standing on the ice.

"YAY!" Hanji cheered as they glided over to Optimus and hugged his pede.

Levi sighed in frustration. "Fuck you, Prime."

"One leg!" Wheeljack shouted as he balanced on one leg across the ice, but he ended up tripping and falling over the edge of the rink and into the snow. Optimus glided over to Wheeljack to assist the Wrecker out of the snow as Levi walked over to the last pair of skates. He forced the pair on before walking over to the ice. He stopped right along the edge and stared at his reflection before stepping onto the surface. Levi kept his hands in his pockets, but he refused to take another step and skate.

"Not even five minutes on the ice, and Mikasa's already mastered it," Jean spoke, both annoyed and amazed at the sight of Mikasa and Sasha racing one another. While Mikasa skated with grace, Sasha skated with more aggression.

"There are a few tricks I could teach you," Arcee offered.

"Like what?" Armin asked.

Arcee didn't reply and merely started to skate around the rink. Arcee started to crisscross her legs as she extended her arms out, skating backwards in a circle. In the next moment, she kicked her legs upward and tucked her arms into her chest, twirling in the air three times before landing on one pede, extending the other one out.

"Okay, we can't do that!" Jean exclaimed as everyone else was clapping at the display.

"I want to do that!" Sasha raised her hand eagerly.

"We'll do the legs first. That's the easier one," Arcee decided.

Levi watched as Arcee was beginning to teach the Survey Corps are few tricks, the humans quickly falling down trying to learn it as a result. Levi grunted when Hanji hugged him from behind before taking his hands and pulling him along the ice. Hanji noticed just how tense the Captain looked, holding onto Hanji as tight as he could.

"You're okay, Captain," Hanji reassured, "I got you."

"...yeah," Levi muttered quietly as he followed Hanji on the ice. Little by little, he let Hanji's hands go before being able to skate on his own. He almost fell a few times, but quickly caught himself before he continued skating. He noticed the way that everyone was having fun and couldn't help but feel...wonder. For the first time trying something like this, it was actually kind of nice.

(Okay. I have to work on #3. Someone asked for #49. Everything else is free game.)

[nso-csi]

230715 oneday cafe event FA

The cafe event place was very small and packed with fans at opening Taemin greeted fans and asked "is it ok? no you can't be~ (then turning a small fan on the table toward the fans) to cool down~"  cr.

fans saying Taemin didn't take the seat prepared by the host but chose to stand throughout the cafe event so even those in the back can see him, made eye contact with each, talked and listened to them without sitting, when asked if it's not hard he said it's ok.  cr.

No birthday party since a place couldn’t be rented but Taemin will do a live on his birthday!  cr.

Mentioning the photo the composers took with Taemin a fan asked if she can anticipate Taemin's solo album coming out this year Taemin smiled and nodded. cr.

Taemin saying he'd come in his own clothes tomorrow many fans asked why he didn't come in the clothes he wore on bubble selfie "someone replied on bubble it looked like mom's..ah although mom's clothes are pretty..6~6" (a fan: it's pretty) "thanks 6v6"   cr.

• Taemin has already received his birthday gifts from his members but he didn't say what he received • Taemin went back to his parents home & his mom wished him a happy birthday already. he asked 'you are already thinking that i am not coming home on my birthday?' • Minho went to the gym with Taemin yesterday after two of them spent 2 hours signing 400 signs and Taemin said Minho was disgusting for that but Minho told him that even so they still need to do it. • the members took ballet lessons before when they were trainees and at every lesson they would jokingly go 'ah teacher, what is this ~~~~!' and the lesson got removed after the 2nd lesson. The members said that the teacher escaped.   cr.

- said he ate chicken breast sandwich for lunch - did oishkunare moe moe kyun - a fan congrats Taem’s birthday using “saenghin” (highly respectful term for birthday) Taemin said it’s 1st time he ever heard that word for him so everyone laughed - asked what 3 wishes he has: 1)b healthy 2)b happy 3)not get old - he makes sure to do aerobic exercise once a day elliptical is good for burning calories “I seek the best efficiency so try it~” - ate lamb skewers last night as reward so exercise today as punishment - to a fan who asked if she can call him oppa taemin: ? I think i am oppa 6v6 - Taemin thinks lilac is his symbolic color - Taemin went to bed at 3 am last night - asked what happened to his rosary ring he said he lost it and doesn’t know when cr.

[ofdusk]

✧ ⁺ - @laruarva asked:

[ Lucky Charms ] "Ah, yes, you two! The pair of siblings!" The pair of what. If the merchant had not been peering so uncomfortably intense into their eyes, Arval would have simply moved on with their evening without the slightest thought. Except the attention was quite evidently on them. Reds scanned the space around them till the source of the confusion made itself evidence, an individual with inhumanity in her elliptical pupils and the points of her ears, crimson as unsettling as their own. Upon a flicker of their gaze, one could argue their outfits bore resemblances, with the corsets and the billowed sleeves. What a coincidence. What a coincidence that would be such a shame to go to waste. Arval was not a wasteful person. "Is there something you are in need of?" All nonchalance was their question, a subtle confirmation of the false assumption. "These charms would just be a lovely set for two siblings. The colour of the crystals even matches your eyes!" A sale, then. When Arval turned to their dear sister, it was with an impish gleam in their eyes and lips curled catlike. To an outsider, it could almost appear as the playful nature of a younger sibling, to the two of them it was blatant amusement found in the misunderstanding. The ruse was left in her hands, now, whether she wished to stutter out clarifications or slink into the role presented to her.

She expects entirely to turn and be greeted by a giggling Elise, a simpering Camilla.

She sees neither, met instead by the gaze of a stranger, but she understands the resemblance rather quickly. Lips part, take shape to begin a hurried explanation for the poor, confused merchant, but she does not speak.

They are smiling at her, this stranger, and she feels her own creep unbidden across her cheeks. A little game-- a dishonest one, but hardly harmful-- Corrin decides she doesn't mind playing.

"How kind of you to notice!" Comes her chirp of a reply, glittering eyes returning to the offered charms as though they are the most interesting thing she has ever seen. They are quite pretty-- dainty things, likely handcrafted, with crimson centers that shine in the room's candlelight.

"I suppose it is too perfect a chance to pass," she says finally, nodding as a handful of coins is retrieved from her pocket. The exchange is quick, charms deposited into her hastily emptied palms, and the merchant tips their hat before disappearing in pursuit of their next sale.

With a giggle, Corrin extends one of the pair to her newly acquired sibling.

"It would be a shame to forget such a meeting, hm? What better a way to remember it by!" Her own charm, once the other has been taken, is fastened to the linen of her collar. "There. Oh! And you may call me Corrin."

[scorchedthesnake]

December 7, 2011

This is when Chapter 2 begins. Gossip Girl had aired; the Halloween parties and the Vanity Fair shoot had let the world know this was a scene. Neil Patrick Harris had raved on Regis and Kelly. The run was no longer extending in short fits and spurts. And original cast began to move on and new residents arrived. Some had trickled in: William Popp and Tony Bordonaro had come in in the late summer and fall. But tonight, I would learn, was the debut of many, many new faces.

As it happened, I was celebrating my 32nd birthday (my original blog said 31st, but come on, do the math). Friends gathered at Manderley with elaborate and themed gifts; a bottle of absinthe I wouldn’t finish until 2022; a journal crafted from my show notes. Banquo had been my first infatuation in the show, but I had pretty quickly moved on the Malcolm, and the journal told the tale of that new fascination.

But the new cast that night included a triumvirate of extraordinary women: Lily Ockwell (Sexy Witch), Haylee Nichele (Lady Macduff), and Chelsea Bonosky (Agnes). 

As I wrote at the time… Chelsea immediately took my breath away. And somehow I didn’t put together that when she picked me for the 1:1, it was her first one ever. We would revisit this moment numerous times over the years. Once, she pulled me in and said: people are being awful tonight, can we just sit for a minute? And most poignantly on her final night as a regular resident, when she would insist on an elliptical structure for our journey together in the building. 

Other highlights of the night: Haylee’s Lady Macduff, whose 1:1 I saw on her final pick. I had been with her at the start of the show and watched as her very first pick *declined her hand,* and she later told me the audience member she picked after that had to be ejected. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to learn these scenes, harbor the confidence to pick someone, and have two mishaps like that one after the other. 

Ben Thys as Malcolm. It was a golden age of handsome Malcolms with Ben and Will sharing the role. Many years later I’d have the good fortune to see Ben’s final Malcolm loop and be part of an audience that all choked up when he chose Will for his last 1:1. 

Tony Bordonaro as Banquo! It was not his premiere night, but it was my first time seeing him. In the very small universe we inhabit, I’d been told to look forward to this performance. Matt, in his final acting gig ever, had managed to land a small role on One Life to Live as a high schooler going to the prom (he was 30 already I think?) - and the other two boys in the posse were So You Think You Can Dance’s Neil Haskell (a fellow Western New Yorker)… and Tony.

Later, in Manderley, came John’s component of my birthday gift: an introduction to Maxine Doyle. He indicated I’d seen the show a fair few times, and she said, so what do you think of the new cast? I replied they were all wonderful and brilliant! And then she said, don’t patronize me, tell me what you really thought. So I tried my best to give some even notes on things that had felt off (but truly, the people I had followed closely, were in fact wonderful and brilliant!). I was moderately terrified but also in awe of her seriousness.

This was the final normal show of 2011 for me. The New Year’s Eve that followed was a massive, massive party and full of dramatic hijinks to kick off 2012, the year we all lost our minds. (sorry, work blew up and I am behind, I had hoped to reach Remixed 1 by today in honor of Remixed 2 but it will not happen. Enjoy Remixed 2!)

[givereadersahug]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

I'm going to cheat and answer the asks but with a different theme for each one, since I can't choose and self-love, baby! 🤭

Theme: SK8 the Infinity fics ~ over 3k

Weekends Away at the Beach | Matchablossom | G | 3.5k

"We have no projects, and you have no calligraphy lessons. I'm taking you to the beach. You can complain all you want, but you are going." Kaoru leveled his eyes at Kojiro, mulling over the proposed getaway. "You're paying for food." "Don't I always?" asked Kojiro, winking. For the MatchaBlossom Reverse Bang 2023.

Cherry Blossoms | Matchablossom | G | 3.4k

"Cherry blossoms are pink and white." Kojiro had made his way back and took the purple kimono from Kaoru's hands. "You mean pink." "They start out as white and then they blossom to a gorgeous pink," Kojiro had said, his breath minty fresh. His arms wrapped around Kaoru's waist, and he buried his head into Kaoru's floral scented hair. "I love how you flush red every time I pull you in for a kiss. Your pale skin turns into a gorgeous shade of pink. My own personal cherry blossom." For the Matchablossom Flash Reverse Bang.

Leave the Light on for Me | Loveblossom | E | 4.2k

"Boring," said Ainosuke, gliding over to Langa. He tilted Langa's chin up so their gaze could meet. "Skating is about winning, taking your opponents in your hands and crushing them." Langa's eyebrows furrowed. "Who will meet you at the finish line?" There was only one person who ever met Ainosuke at the finish line, but he hadn't seen him in years. Young Ainosuke Shindo meets a strange man one evening after his mother died. Kitsune AU. For the Cherry Blossom Reverse Bang.

Devotion & Intricacies | Matchablossom

I consider them sister fics. One is a remix of the other.

Devotion's summary

Kojiro wants to know Kaoru's stance on them adopting kids. It's time for a long overdue conversation.

Intricacies's summary

Kojiro thinks he know everything about Kaoru, him learning the ins and outs of all things Kaoru since he was five. However, Kaoru continues to surprise him.

And the seven drabbles I written for Kaoru Week 2023.

Day #1 - Not Having to Ask | Matchablossom | G | 937 Day #2 - Elliptical Orbit | Matchablossom | T | 1.1k Day #3 - Indulgence | Matchablossom | T | 986 Day #4 - Throwback | Loveblossom | T | 770 Day #5 - Affections | Matchablossom | G | 475 Day #6 - Seaside Vacation | Matchablossom | G | 537 Day #7 - Spring | Matchablossom | G | 1.2k

The other asks: Drabbles featuring Severus Snape (Non-Snarry) Series

[spiced-wine-fic]

Thursbitch

Thursbitch is a novel by Alan Garner, and also a real place on the moors that he visited when he was young. This visit put down the roots of the novel. There is a marker there to one John Turner

HERE JOHN TURNER WAS CAST AWAY IN A HEAVY SNOW STORM IN THE NIGHT IN OR ABOUT THE YEAR 1755”. And on the other side “THE PRINT OF A WOMANS SHOE WAS FOUND BY HIS SIDE WERE [sic] HE LAY DEAD. Alan Garner:

‘John Turner lived at Saltersford Hall, where his father was a tenant farmer. He was born in 1706 and became a packman, or jagger, with a train of four horses.

On Christmas Eve, 1735, (that is, when John was twenty-nine), he was on his way back from Northwich. It was snowing. But packmen were used to being on the road in all weathers and at all hours. They knew the hills better than anyone. They took no risks. Jaggers were looked on as boundary-striders, as Grendel is described in Beowulf, wild men, wodwose, as in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. They belonged more to the hills than to the valleys. Yet on that Christmas Eve, John Turner did not reach home. The next morning he was found dead, though his team of horses survived, covered by drifts. And by him, on the white, wind-smoothed land, was the single print of a woman's shoe in the snow.’

The elements are Old English þyrs and bæch: “demon”; “valley”. “Thursbitch” is first recorded in 1384, a time when names were descriptive only. This was no Romantic conceit. For the people of those hills in the fourteenth century that valley was frequented by a þyrs: a demon.’

Alan Garner: Mr. X is my most sensitive, yet most elliptical, informant. A straight question never brings a straight reply. His replies are clues for me to follow; and only when I come back with an answer will he deliver another. I've been tested by an examiner who hopes that I'll discover what has been lost; and I'm not at all sure that his behaviour is conscious. As he stepped into the yard, he said over his shoulder, “What's wrong with this valley, Alan? What's wrong?” And closed the door. On another of my visits to the house, Mr. X opened the door to go. He paused, and said, “They never should have buried that baby in Thursbitch.” The Silk Museum at Macclesfield invited me to give a lecture of my own choosing. Afterwards, there were questions, then the audience departed. I noticed that a man was hanging back. When no one else was left, he approached. He was late middle-aged, neatly dressed and groomed; indeed, without deprecation, dapper. He said he'd been relieved by what I'd said about John Turner. He revealed that, from his qualifying as a GP in 1948 until his recent retirement, his practice had been the hill country to the northeast of Macclesfield. He'd never been happy with Saltersford, and always dreaded (his word) a night call there. 

In 1999, I telephoned the vicar. Despite the twenty-six year gap, he remembered me. I told him that I now had a clearer picture of Saltersford and that there were some questions I'd like to have his opinion on. I asked him for his thoughts on Thursbitch; and I am now speaking from my notes made during the conversation. He said that he had no personal experience of the place, because he'd never been there. He said that, at his induction in 1972, his Church Wardens had told him that it would not be safe for “a man of the cloth” to enter the valley. One of them had said that he himself never went there, because it was “not a healthy part”. The vicar followed the advice because he respected the men who had given it. He also said that the people of Saltersford think of it as “no good place”, “not right”, “not safe’;. He explained that this attitude was spiritual, and said, “I wouldn't like to go up myself. I think the valley needs feeding.”

I wanted to put the phone down, but the vicar reported another incident. The people had told him that, in 1985, Thursbitch was filled with what they termed and he did not question “a lot of electrical magic”. I went to see Mr. Y, a farmer born and reared at Saltersford Hall, the home of John Turner. I needed permission to drive along the western ridge of Thursbitch. He said that he wanted me down by dusk and he wanted me to let him know that I was down. I thought that Mr. Y had no high opinion of my ability to drive a Land Rover. But he continued. “You see.” Pause. “There isn't a farmer in all these hills around.” Pause. “As will open his door after dark.” Pause. “Not even to cross the yard.” Pause. “Without he's got his gun.” “Not that it would be of any use.” “But it makes you feel better.” “Somehow.”

[hazelenergy]

✖

Memory Meme Past experiences help shape who we are currently, how we see the world. Send in a symbol and I’ll write a drabble of one of my muse’s memories. 

~A repressed memory

Mary was meticulous. Hazel watched as her newly adoptive sire was assembling some sort of apparatus. Occasionally Mary barked orders to bring her things, and her Childer would obediently or absentmindedly go get them. Well, almost all of them. Solomon didn't make it back from Elysium after staring down the Prince. Hazel didn't know if he was alive. She barely knew the man, but, the thought that the three of them didn't all get out of that vampire hors d'oeuvres party sickened her stomach.

"Hazel, get me that --" she said pointing at a book on a nearby table. Hazel's mind goes blank and robotically moved her body towards the table. Consciousness returns and she confusedly turns to Mary, wondering when the book got into her hands.

"Bring it here."

Again, the mind quiets, and when the lights come back on, Hazel is standing next to Mary, holding open the book to a page with a diagram of whatever Mary was assembling.

Hazel's focus turns towards the strange apparatus. The entire thing was a series thin, glass lenses layered on top of one another. At the top, the lenses were large, elliptical disks. Towards the bottom, they were teeny, concave circles. Each disk has a silvery lining on its edge, with red symbols etched every few centimeters.

Hazel was admiring the unrecognizable red symbols when the first bout of drowsiness hit her. The sun was coming up again. Breaths were getting shallow and harsh. She hasn't learned that the morning would steal her effortless life yet, she'd have to make an effort if she wanted to stay awake.

Mary didn't look tired. She looked paler. Purplish blue veins could be seen just below her skin, with cold vitae frozen in place. The morning made sure that any facade of life was gone.

"Sit."

Hazel placed herself on a stool, with her back towards the lenses.

"Do not move."

Mary flicked her wrists and the red runes on the silver rings began to glow hot like red coals. The rings turned and focused the lenses into a beam of concentrated dawn's first light. Noticing the perfect circle, Mary muttered curses under her breath as she gingerly adjusted the final lens. She was careful to not let any of the rays touch her skin. There, now the light was cut off, into a half circle.

"Are we done yet?" Hazel choked out. Her heart was slowly beating slower and slower and could feel the warmth snapping from her fingers. Her body was rigid and didn't want to move. It was like cement. This was awful, she thought to herself, how on earth did Tommy and Solomon deal with this the past few nights?

Mary cleared her throat before replying, "Not quite. Do you remember the first thing we discussed?"

"Don't tell people about vampires--"

"Do not break the masquerade. That includes being seen while feeding, failure to conceal your strengths and abilities, and openly telling others what you are."

She paused as if for a breath, but there was none. Her voice had always been stern, but now it was like ice.

"Do you know what the punishment is for violating the masquerade?"

Hazel swallowed hard, a reflex that revealed how dry her throat was.

"They'll kill us?"

"Then you understand that what is about to happen is considered a mercy, by our kind," she added. "But, the masquerade was not the first rule we discussed."

She walked over to face Hazel, with hands now stained red. Blood oozed from beneath her fingernails and dripped down her palms. Each trail of vitae formed a perfect equidistant curve from the next trail, and wrapped down her forearms.

"The first thing we discussed was: I am responsible for your messes. Your fuck ups are my fuck ups. And I do not tolerate fuck ups."

The next thing Hazel can parse together is her skin bubbling and bursting under the beam of light and the smell of burnt flesh. She couldn't move. Her mind could not tell her body to slide even an inch out of the burning sunlight. Screams were choked down with cups of watered down vitae, oh so generously supplied by her new sire.

For the longest time, Hazel could only recall Mary gently cradling her face as her thinned vitae worked to repair and cover the charring on her back. She was told she did a beautiful job and that it was remarkable how fast the thinblooded vitae worked to heal.

It was almost a full year after receiving her brand that she was able to see through the manipulative facade of the Tremere witch. And even then, there are many details still missing.

[dustedmagazine]

Maxine Funke — River Said (Disciples)

River Said by maxine funke

Maxine Funke has been making hushed and lovely songs with guitar and voice for more than a decade. Her songs are the dictionary definition of “less is more.” She strips elusive imagery to pencil-drawn simplicity. A whisper carries soft melodies over translucent lattices of acoustic picking, so that both voice and guitar nestle gently in your ear. And yet these songs are far from slight or ephemeral. They grow gnarly roots in your subconscious slyly and before you’ve really noticed it. Said Doug Mosurock in Dusted of the 2012 disc, Felt, “This is one of those records you’ll have a hard time shaking.”

This latest missive delivers the soft but faintly disturbing songs you’ve come to expect from Funke on one side and some intriguing long-form instrumental play on the other. The two halves of River Said are different but complementary, both water-pure reflections of the natural world (and an adjacent spiritual world), but in different timbres.

The song structured side starts with “Willow White,” a murmured beauty of soft intimations and fluid picking, a serene and bucolic piece with ghosts in the shadows. “A trifle early is the spring/whisper willow whispering,” Funke intones in lucid simplicity, conjuring a riverbank world in sunshine. Yet there are darker, fairy tale elements hovering in the margins, sleepwalkers and nightmare wakers and power lines droning overhead like a beast. Beauty coexists with unsettling archetypes. Later, “River Said,” unleashes eddies and swirls of guitar sound that seem to mimic the motion of water running downhill. An elliptical sketch of a picnic takes shape. Bottles are uncorked, beer is sipped, feet are dabbled in the stream. There is something so clear and simple about the song, and yet it slips in and out of focus.

These are solitary songs, and Funke sings and performs them by herself. “Call on You,” adds an overdubbed vocal counterpart, Funke answering Funke in a delicately gorgeous call and response, “I’m gonna call,” she trills, and then, fainter, like a mountain echo, comes the reply, “Call you.” The beauty of the songs comes in their purity and spareness, yet just this once, you see how ornamentation could fill them out and expand them.

Funke interspersed some instrumental intervals into Silk, layering keyboards and electronics and field recordings in abstract squiggles between verse-chorus songs. Here she explores similar un-song-like textures in two long tracks at the end of the album. You can almost smell the salt air in “Long Beach,” an extended meditation on surf and birdsong that Funke embellishes with subtle clicks and rattles of percussion and long crystalline organ tones that roll in and recede like the waves. “Oblivion” natters and scrapes with bowed tones, a cello apparently, but mussed and scratched to illegibility. Slowly a rhythm emerges in quick, overlapping swipes, and birds twitter, en masse, in the rafters. Funke adds some vocals in the second half of the cut, first intoning, then singing fragile lines about obsidian and sea lions. It is quite beautiful, in a shadowy, dream-haunted way, though you can never really get a firm grip on what it signifies.

Both the songs and the noise compositions have their merits—though I prefer the songs—and both distill natural energies into unruffled reflecting pools of sound. Both will calm you down, but also, if you let them, disturb you. These are gorgeous landscapes with sketched in trolls and demons in the margins, hard to see but showing their teeth.

Jennifer Kelly

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I can't remember if it was Charlie or Idris who said it was like being on an elliptical for 12 hours at a time, but I DO know it was Charlie who saw Rinko looking serene and content during one of many grueling days and thought, "My god, I have to know how she's so calm."

So, he leaned over and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

To which Rinko replied, "Chocolate and teddy bears."

Actual sets were constructed for the cockpits of the Jaegers. They, along with the rig that controlled them were four stories tall and could drop fifteen feet. Guillermo del Toro described them as “a torture machine.”

Pacific Rim (2013)

[the-golden-oath]

PROX UPDATE [04.01.25]

Good news for anyone who has followed me for prox! I am back to working on it! There are a lot of things I wanted add/change concerning the posted chapters, which is why I stopped posting them. I did manage to get some incredible work done on it during November of last year (2024) and it jumpstarted me on the rest of it, which is an indescribable feeling for anyone who doesn't write.

I'll admit, got a bit lost with the direction of things the first time around because I'd treated plotting like some sort of persistent mold. However, thanks to my shiny new meticulous plot-doccing and bouts of obsession, I now know what everybody's doing and where everybody's going and how it's all going to come together in the end.

It's been a long time coming and it's been a long several years during which my inspiration for the story waxed and waned like an erratically elliptical moon. I am beyond excited to get to the editing stage so I can begin posting the version of this story I saw in my head all along!

I hope everyone who enjoyed the first version of prox will love this one even more. I am so much more proud of it than I am of the one that's up right now.

I have made the decision to delete the current work once I begin uploading the new, improved version. It doesn't make sense to me to keep up an unfinished work that I'm not too proud of, especially when the new version has all of the original material in it, just done better. I hope my readers can understand my reasoning. I'm keeping copies of everyone's lovely comments and I'll make sure the original stays up for a bit of overlap so old readers might find the new one if they want.

If anyone has any questions, I'm eyeing the replies ^^

[mackerelsoup-fr]

One of the benefits of being a cupbearer, Annes decided as she checked the coast was clear before entering the strategy room, was the ability to enter most rooms, without being seen as a spy. Guillot far underestimated her, that she knew, and though Mogge would have loved to see her tossed out on her ear, he did not have the ability to command such a thing. Not yet at least.

Anyways, she had every right to be gathering cups from wherever she pleased. She tucked the tray underneath one of her large arms and scanned the large strategy room, trying to think like Simonnet, and determine where the fae would’ve started looking for the census papers. Naturally, had Guillot seen Simonnet in the strategy room looking through cupboards the wizard would have been tossed out on his ear, and speculation run rife through Paddingknoll as suspicion towards him grew. No, it was better that Annes did this for him.

She set her tray down carefully, dampening possible noises as best she could. The room was split in half, with large walls cutting through it and only a small opening providing access to the other part of the room. While it was intended to allow for further privacy, had the citadel come under attack, it also meant she could be ambushed if she wasn’t careful. This part of the room was lit and therefore brighter, with a large, elliptical table in the centre of it and chairs haphazardly surrounding it, as if the last meeting had resulted in a furious argument. With Guillot’s renowned temper, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out that that was the case.

Ignoring all that, she made her way over to the writing desk in a shadowy corner of the room. There were no papers on the table, so she assumed that they had been stashed in one of the chests of drawers in the room, or indeed in the writing desk’s own drawers. The tiled floors made the rooms freezing during the colder months, but reduced the chance of noise from things like creaking floorboards.

It did mean, however, that it was significantly easier for someone to sneak up on her. And as she carefully opened a drawer of a desk that was filled with papers curling from age, her ears straining to hear anyone who could possibly catch her redpawed, she heard the muted shuffling of a dragon.

She quickly closed the cupboard as carefully as she could, her heart in her throat, and busied herself opening and closing drawers with haste, as if she was looking for cups and cutlery.

She didn’t turn around even as the shuffling crossed from the other part of the room to hers, and got closer.

“Annes.” Came the raspy voice. “What a surprise.”

She relaxed, but only minutely. It wasn’t Guillot or Mogge, at the very least. It was Einilda Auberjonois, Simonnet’s assistant, and, to hear him tell it, the biggest thorn in his side since Elaria. “Hello. I hope I didn’t disrupt you.”

“No you didn’t.” She replied, and she moved over to the chairs to sit down. Annes’ heart sank slightly. It seemed she wanted to talk.

“Do you regularly have use of the strategy room?” Annes asked as politely as she could, wondering if her plans would be disrupted by Einilda later.

“No. I…” Einilda ducked her head. “I fell asleep. After the last meeting.”

“Oh.” Annes said, and reassessed the dragon. “The meetings seem a bit technical, I’m glad to not have to attend.”

Einilda suddenly groaned and buried her head in her arms. startling Annes slightly. “You can’t imagine! And they all get so angry over the stupidest things. Listen to this.” She suddenly said conspiratorially, dragging her chair closer to a bewildered Annes. “Can you believe that today Guillot and Simonnet were up in arms about something as silly as the number of dragons in Ichorstain? I said, just recount them, and they both furiously said no. I can’t even imagine why that would cause such ruckus. Simonnet is convinced that Guillot instructed his patrols to fudge the numbers or something. How ridiculous!”

Annes’ ears pricked up, and saying a silent sorry to Simonnet for her next actions, she leant in closer, feigning surprise. “No, that can’t be! What did Guillot do after?”

[hlekani-666]

<133> 19. Atheist Republic Newsletter: A dragon, a teapot, and a spaghetti monster.

Not long ago, but when the world was still quite young, a pretty girl named Atok lived in an earthen shelter with her family. Day after day, she would get out of bed, eat, help her mother clean, cook, and take care of her brothers and sisters and then go back to bed when the sun went down. Occasionally, a predator would venture close to their humble home and they would kill it or scare it away, but that was the extent of her adventure.

Her simple life would take a dramatic change when one day, as she was starting the morning fire, the smoke from the embers took shape right before her eyes. She almost cried out, but she suddenly noticed she felt no fear. She was calm and her attention was drawn to the apparition which now looked like a large crow.

As she watched the crow with curiosity and awe, it began to speak. It told her that she would become the mother of great nations and that she would guide them toward a long, peaceful existence. After giving Atok all the instructions she would need to share with her people, the crow disappeared. Atok quickly ran to tell her mother, who laughed at her childish imagination.

But sure enough, 5 years later, Atok started her family and raised them in the ways of the crow. She started developing powers and performing miracles so everyone in the village believed. Atok never died, instead, she took the form of a crow and travels the world to this day, bestowing good fortune on her many followers around the world.

If I were to tell you this story, and assure you it is true and that you too should believe, you would probably ask me for some kind of proof. The burden of proof would be on me to provide supporting evidence for my claims. It would not be your responsibility to disprove the story, or to prove it untrue. Yet believers expect us to believe in their ideology with no evidence to support their claims. When asked for evidence many of them point out that we also have no evidence that their claims are not true. Yet, if we were to believe everything that we cannot disprove, then any unfalsifiable claim that we come up with, should we believed.

Bertrand Russell made this point by using an analogy of a celestial teapot. Russell suggested the following thought experiment to illustrate the burden of proof and falsifiability:

If I were to suggest that between the Earth and Mars there is a china teapot revolving about the sun in an elliptical orbit, nobody would be able to disprove my assertion provided I were careful to add that the teapot is too small to be revealed even by our most powerful telescopes.

But if I were to go on to say that, since my assertion cannot be disproved, it is an intolerable presumption on the part of human reason to doubt it, I should rightly be thought to be talking nonsense.

If, however, the existence of such a teapot were affirmed in ancient books, taught as the sacred truth every Sunday, and instilled into the minds of children at school, hesitation to believe in its existence would become a mark of eccentricity and entitle the doubter to the attentions of the psychiatrist in an enlightened age or of the Inquisitor in an earlier time.

Carl Sagan addressed it with his story, "The Dragon In My Garage" which is a chapter in his book, The Demon-Haunted World. . In the story, the existence of God is equated with a hypothetical assertion of a dragon living in someone's garage. Sagan described the discussion as follows:

"A fire-breathing dragon lives in my garage" Suppose I seriously make such an assertion to you. Surely you'd want to check it out, see for yourself. There have been innumerable stories of dragons over the centuries, but no real evidence. What an opportunity!

"Show me," you say. I lead you to my garage. You look inside and see a ladder, empty paint cans, an old tricycle--but no dragon.

"Where's the dragon?" you ask.

"Oh, she's right here," I reply, waving vaguely. "I neglected to mention that she's an invisible dragon."

You propose spreading flour on the floor of the garage to capture the dragon's footprints.

"Good idea," I say, "but this dragon floats in the air."

Then you'll use an infrared sensor to detect the invisible fire.

"Good idea, but the invisible fire is also heatless."

You'll spray-paint the dragon and make her visible.

"Good idea, but she's an incorporeal dragon and the paint won't stick." And so on. I counter every physical test you propose with a special explanation of why it won't work.

There is also the possibly even more widely known is the invention of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (FSM) by Bobby Henderson, the deity of the Pastafarian religion, depicted as a knot of spaghetti, two meatballs and eyes who created the world using His Noodley Appendage.

"On the seventh day of floating around infinite nothingness, after six days of rest, the FSM said, 'Let there be a Universe, or something!' And there was a Universe, or something not terribly far off. And the FSM saw that it was pretty damn good, especially the bits with a light sauce." - the Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster flying spaghetti monster These are all examples of the fact that anyone, anywhere, at any time, can make a claim. They can certainly believe it strongly themselves, but others are not compelled to do so without the burden of proof being met.

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