#hence the two edits of it in quick succession

[gnawgag]

AND THEN YOU, JUST THREW IT AWAY

for a pessimist, I’m pretty optimistic- paramore // photography by Melih Dönmezer

[theprettynosferatu]

I

The gigantic metal beast landed with a thud. Not the most graceful of homecomings, thought the handler. It didn’t matter, of course. No damage to the mech, four enemies down, a few needless but thrilling maneuvers for the video drone capturing every moment. A successful mission any way one cut it. The handler looked up from the screens, towards the solid, tangible reality of his ward.

Even after years together, even after a hundred missions, the sight never failed to impress. Himiko emerged from the cockpit drenched in sweat, every curve of her body glistening under the hangar lights. She stretched. This was a performance too, even if she didn’t know it. Her booty shorts and miniscule top were as much a necessity as an asset, and her “dismounts” were something of a phenomenon among the viewers. 

Every second in the cockpit was filmed, every motion in combat captured from several angles, every landing documented to be masterfully edited and broadcast to the population. She was a soldier on two fronts: fighting the rebellion while also being someone the company could parade in front of everyone, someone people could root for, someone they could obsess over. Better to have them focused on her skin, those shorts, her beautiful face. Even her mech, the Enkidu, was part of her brand: it was an older model, a classic -or a relic, depending on one’s point of view- that tended to be particularly punishing for pilots. The goddamn thing was an oven, relying on overheating systems for sudden bursts of enhanced performance with minimal heat dispersal to spare the operator. Hence, booty shorts and top. The effect was simple, eloquent: she was a warrior, an underdog willing to do whatever it took to destroy a more advanced enemy. Underdogs were good. People cheered for them. 

The handler shuddered. If Himiko knew he had been the one to suggest her brand…

Well, there were many things Himiko didn’t know, and every asset needed a brand, a simple phrase that could be marketed, displayed, sold. “Sexy, rebellious underdog”. Everything orbited that one concept. Her clothing, her public appearances, even her fighting style. She was as artificial as her mech and didn’t even know it. Damn it.

The handler chased the feeling away. Things would be worse for Himiko without him. He was good to her. Hell, compared to other handlers he was downright angelic, if the stories were true. Even the whole “underdog” gimmick was… mild, next to what other pilots were saddled with. The company had to cater to many tastes, after all. “Ruthless, cold bombshell”. “Cheery, optimistic angel”. “Seductive, psychotic killer”. A pilot for every desire, and joint missions were true events, advertised and promoted with taglines like “...But can they work together?”, or “Angel and Demon together!”. The strategic purpose of such missions was a secondary priority, if it was a priority at all.

Yes, “rebellious underdog” wasn’t that bad, all things considered. The handler went down to the launching bay.  

“I fucked up with that second mech”

“It still went down, didn’t it?”

“Messed up my aim. I Could have downed him quicker. Fuck!”

Himiko was one of the few pilots allowed to swear. It fit her brand. Well, truth was Himiko was one of the few pilots able to swear, but that wasn’t something the handler liked to think about.

“May I shower?”, she asked.

“You may”, he replied.

Himiko flashed him a quick smile and headed for her quarters. The handler watched her leave. He wondered, as he had done so many times before, if he was the only one that could see something between sadness and rage in her eyes.

II

“We were going with something like… ‘Guts and Glamour’, when the op was just Himiko and Adrian, but now that Ruby’s part of the whole thing…”, said the handler.

“‘Guts and Glamour’? Really?”, scoffed Mark.

“You know them marketing boys like their alliteration, Mark. We work with what we got”, added Katrina, a bit offended.

‘Guts and Glamour’ had been her idea, in fact. A bit on the facile side, but the handler had to admit his partner had nailed it on the head. Katrina was rough, but one of the best, after all: that was why she had been saddled with Adrian. “Vain, cocksure prettyboy”, had been the concept and the pilot delivered in spades, which was a blessing and a curse. He was easy to hate as much as he was easy to desire. The company liked to try some “hate that you love them” concepts every now and then. They thought it was a complex character. A pain in the ass for a handler, that’s what it was. Sometimes the public saw their skills and were won over. Other times…

Well, tragic deaths were quite moving too.

Ruby, on the other hand, was a tried and true idea. Fiery, sexy redhead. Not much to do with that, but her genetics did the heavy lifting. Something for the basic teen boys.

“Right, right. Well, Maybe we can keep it. Ruby’s glamorous too”, said Mark.

“Nah. Won’t work. Three pilots, ain’t it? We need three keywords, short, punchy. And I don’t think we have a third ‘G’ word to throw in there. And Ruby has… no offense, but I wouldn’t call it glamour, exactly. I mean, not your fault, bud. But…”, trailed off Katrina.

“No offense taken. We aren’t shooting for high class with Ruby. What you see is what you get, pretty much. And she loves to let people see”, replied Mark.

“You sure got lucky with the whole heat gimmick, right? Himiko can show off and still come across as tough”

It took a moment for the handler to realize Katrina was talking to him. He poured himself another drink, and saw the other two handlers onscreen joining him in a toast across space.

“I guess”, mumbled the handler.

“You know, I don’t know what’s better: fucking the hot redhead everyone thinks is slutty, or being the only one that knows how freaky the rebel girl can get”, giggled Mark.

“Come on, man. That’s the kind of joke that gives handlers a bad rep”, said the handler.

Silence stretched, infinite, plastic.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, man. You tapped that, and you know it”, retorted Mark.

“Say what you will about Adrian, but he makes up for his preening with some stamina”, said Katrina.

“Stop it. It’s not funny”, muttered the handler, shifting in his seat.

“We’re not being funny. This shit ain’t for broadcast, pal. Save the PC shit for official events. It’s just us shooting the shit, here”, said Katrina.

“Wait. You don’t really… you know…”

“Fuck my pilot? Eight days a week, cowboy. Jesus, are you bullshitting me right now? It’s like, the one benefit we have. Sure, it’s not on the fucking brochures, but come on! We have genetically enhanced clones that are programmed to obey and designed to be hot! You think the company doesn’t know what’s bound to happen? Nature’s gonna nature, I say. And it’s not like they’re… people-people, you know?” said the woman on the screen.

“They’re clones, sure, but… they’re still people”, said the handler.

“You mean to say you never thought about it?”, asked Mark.

“Think about it… I mean, I guess. Like… you can have fantasies about anyone, right? But fantasies are one thing and… doing shit is another”, said the handler.

Katrina laughed.

“So let me get this straight: you’re all alone in your compartment, jerkin’ it to a girl that’s right fucking there, next door over, and who would do whatever you told her to do if only you had the balls to command her? God, that’s pathetic. You have a feast in front of ya and keep eating those saltine crackers from ration packs, honey. Okay, real talk: are you gay, or ace, or…”

“No. Bi, actually”, said the handler in anger. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong to…”

“See, I think I get the issue. I’ve seen it a couple of times. Clones are not like you and me. Clones obey. And they don’t feel bad about it, because they can’t not obey, feel me? It’s just the way they’re made, you know? She wouldn’t feel violated or… I don’t know, used. Not in any degree above what happens whenever you send her on a mission. She’s designed for it. It’s all she knows and all she can know. And if we are being honest… let me ask you a question: are you scared for her when it looks like a mission is gonna go tits up? Are you anxious when you give her a combat plan and don’t know if it’s the best course of action?”, asked Mark.

“Of course”

“Me too. Every single time Ruby goes inside that mech I’m sweating bullets. I care about her. It’s my job to make her thrive, man. That’s what we do. You know who’s never scared going into combat? Ruby, or Adrian, or Himiko. Can you imagine that? Climbing into a big ass combat mech and not being terrified? But they’re not like us, and you know what? I kinda envy them. They are at peace. They have their missions, and the complete, unshakable focus to do their best every time. Combat, a photoshoot, an ad… same to them. Just missions. They don’t have to make choices, or suffer the pangs of uncertainty. There’s something beautiful there. A purity. They are what they are, do what they’re assigned to do, and those two things are the same thing. They have clarity of purpose. They’re not burped into existence like the rest of us. And when I tell Ruby to wrap her huge tits around my cock and get me off, it’s another mission to her. Nothing more, nothing else. You ask me, they’re the lucky ones. So, word of advice: care for your pilot. But don’t fall for her. ‘Cause you’d be falling for a shadow”. Said Mark between drinks.

The meeting went on. The handler didn’t really pay attention to whatever title they had decided to give their joint mission in the end. 

III

The mission had been a success. In the end the marketing people had decided to play up the “one guy, two girls” angle. Would love blossom on the battlefield? The people saw Ruby saving Adrian from a cowardly sneak attack. The flirting had been heavy and constant. Of course, Ruby had made no such heroic save, but editing could perform miracles. 

The handler was glad Himiko hadn’t been picked to move the romance plot forward. Sure, affairs between pilots existed only for the cameras, in parades and interviews, but still. Himiko’s brand wasn’t appropriate for such things. But if he was being honest, it wasn’t the sanctity of the image that bothered him. He had been with Himiko from the beginning. He had designed her brand, advised on her fighting style, added flair and soul to the character. Himiko belonged to the company, sure, but in a creative way, Himiko was his. The strong girl in the posters and vids, the firebrand adored by millions… he had created that, as much as the geeks at the genetic farms. Perhaps even more.

The handler couldn’t say when he had gotten out of bed and walked out of his room. He found himself in the hallway, steps away from the pilot’s compartment. She -it- would be there. His creation. His product. Hours of work, gallons of sweat and tears and anxiety and effort put into her… into making her a phenomenon, beloved by millions. And what did he get? He was anonymous. He was a shadow- worse, a shadow of a shadow, unrecognized, unrewarded.  

The door slid shut and Himiko went instantly to her feet. Pilots were light sleepers by design, always ready. They slept in the nude, so they could get into their outfits instantly. Shame was not something they felt, less of all in front of their handlers.

“Do we have a mission?”, she asked.

The handler paused, entranced by the soft curves of her pilot. It didn't matter how much he saw of her, it always made an impact somewhere primal, deep inside his soul. No, not her. The product, he reminded himself. The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Kneel”

There was a moment there, barely longer than a lightning strike. Himiko’s eyes flashed with confusion, a hint of outrage, and then set on complete, focused determination as she went down on her knees. She looked up at the handler, ready to obey. The handler felt almost drunk, giddy. So many men and women looked up to this girl, adored her, saw her as a role model and object of desire… and now she looked up at him. It was intoxicating.

“Remove my underwear”

She did so with the efficiency of a close quarters combat expert. He barely had to shift to let her cast the fabric aside. One part of him couldn’t believe it was this easy, even as inside him a quieter, stifled side of himself screamed. It was too late to go back.

“Suck my cock”

What followed was akin to vertigo, beyond anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. The handler wasn’t a virgin, but he might as well have been. Himiko took to her mission with the zeal and determination of a true warrior, changing speeds, pressure, angle, using her tongue, her lips, her throat. The handler felt something in the base of his spine, an orgasm building from somewhere deeper than anything he had experienced in his life. Overcome by the maelstrom of sensation, he had for a moment forgotten what was happening, sent hurling away from reality by the pilot’s skills. His eyes snapped open.

He saw Himiko. Strong, fierce Himiko. Her expression was one he had seen a thousand times in the cockpit, the focus of an operator in that special zone where only the mission existed, where only her objective mattered. He saw a programmed response, and a reminder of what she really was. Of what he was doing.

“Stop”, he muttered. She instantly did. He caught his breath.

“Could you… could you pretend to enjoy it? Like… like you… want me?” God, he felt pathetic. The feeling, however, lasted only a second. Himiko smiled, a smile no one had ever seen before, a smile that didn’t fit any poster or propaganda piece. It was mischievous, flirty, like they were accomplices in a secret, loving affair. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t real. She made it feel real to him.

She made him feel special.

Suddenly there was a sense of fun, of warmth to her actions. She moaned and purred with every lick, teasing him, smiling and biting her lips, making him feel as if for that moment his pleasure was her pleasure, that he was all that existed, that his cock was the most beautiful, most entrancing thing in the universe. His moans mixed with hers as she worshiped him with her mouth, her hands, her breasts. It was sex and devotion, fun and partnership, lust and love. It was too easy to believe it all, too perfect to resist. The handler wanted the moment to last, forever if at all possible. When he told Himiko to get on the bed, she leaped in joy and looked at him as she stretched on the mattress, eyes full of anticipation, a teasing challenge to her lover. 

He dove into her arms. He kissed her stomach, her perfect thighs, her neck. He wanted her, wanted to devour her, to be with her and for her to be his, totally and completely. He wanted them to belong to each other, to seal a partnership that had, in his mind, been growing for years. Her shallow breathing, her whimpers and soft moans begged him to do it, to take what was rightfully his. His hand softly caressed the inside of her thigh, barely touching it, moving upwards slowly, savoring every second. When he felt the wetness between her legs, he couldn’t help but wonder if that too was a conditioned response. He pushed the thought aside and let himself drown in her lips.

She was tight, and he managed to stop himself, teasing her clit. He didn’t want to hurt her. It occurred to him that Himiko was, in fact, a virgin. He would be careful. He would be gentle. He would take it slow. 

But she was a warrior on a mission. 

“Do it”, she said, panting. “Take me. Fuck me. Use me! I’ve seen you looking at me… my ass, my tits, my face… they’re all yours. Yours. Stop being a pussy and fucking ram that big cock inside me! I want it… I want you to treat me like your whore, your toy, whatever the fuck you want… just give me that cock! Please!”

The handler didn’t know if Himiko had been studying him, gathering information for precisely such an event, but it didn’t really matter. She knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it, with a mixture of begging and demanding, commanding and submissive at the same time. She knew what to say to blow away any lingering hesitation, to obliterate any morality that might be holding him back. He entered her with fury, with anger, with lust, with the strength of years of repressed emotions and confused feelings behind him. Her legs surrounded him, brought him closer as she came with a melody of moans and tiny screams. Her nails dig into his back. The pain was the one thing that kept him from cumming. Had that been luck or a calculated move on her part?

With all her martial skill, she reversed positions and got on top. 

“My turn”, she smiled.

He had fantasized about this moment for years. Himiko showed him just how limited his imagination was. She was mercurial, flowing from one position to another, from one attitude to another. She was whimpering and fighting against her own pleasure one moment, pinning him down and riding him with a wicked smile the next; she feigned innocence on second and then delivered babbling, perverted barrages of dirty talk without missing a beat. She made the bed feel like a playground where everything went, everything was allowed. She made him feel safe. Wanted. 

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of him. Unlike Himiko, he was a simple handler, not a trained fighter. He fell asleep in her arms, postponing the inevitable reckoning with what he had done for a handful of peaceful, perfect hours.

IV

The handler called in every favor he had. Burned a few bridges, too. It was necessary, he told himself. It was for Himiko, he told himself. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. Anything to make the voice inside his head shut up for a few seconds. 

As a handler he had access to general genetic records: after all, he needed to know what his pilot was capable of, what enhancements had been made to her. There were other bits of information, however, that only the people at the genetic farms had and guarded jealously. But after a solid two weeks of begging, threatening and cajoling, he had managed to get a copy of what he needed, an answer to the question that had been tormenting him- and now he lingered, too scared to open the files. 

Himiko was a clone. But somewhere out there there was an original. Or maybe there had been one, long ago. Whoever Himiko was made from was probably an old woman living in secluded luxury. That was the standard deal: a comfortable life of complete anonymity for the donors. They were usually athletes, sometimes models or soldiers, sometimes people with very specific characteristics that might appeal in a pilot, given a few adjustments. The handler didn’t know what would be worse: to find out the original was out in the world, or to find out Himiko’s genes had been taken from an old blueprint and the original had passed away. He just knew he needed to know, because Himiko deserved to know. Not that the pilot had asked, of course. But he needed to… do something for her. Yes, do something big for Himiko. That would make the voice shut the hell up.

He opened the files and started reading, a terrible dread growing in his chest.

Sample obtained through Rebirth Protocol.

It was there in black and white: a rumor discarded by almost everyone, embraced only by the most fringe of lunatics. And it was real. The Rebirth Protocol. Forced acquisition of samples from captured rebels before their executions.

Himiko’s original had never lived a life of peace and comfort. She had been a rebel. A fighter, like her clone. One battling the company at every turn, transformed into an obedient asset in an act of perverted, vengeful poetry. And he had been complicit. He had made Himiko one of the most recognizable faces of the company, a key pillar in its efforts in the battlefield and in the war on the minds of the people.    

The handler threw up. He copied the files to his personal device, shaking. He could feel his determination wavering. No. He had to show her, and he had to show her immediately.

Himiko smiled as he entered. The handler felt terrible for issuing that particular order. Knowing what he knew, the smile felt like a dagger. 

“Himiko, look at this”, he said, pulling up the files on the screen. It was all there. Himiko’s original name. Pictures taken during captivity. Video of her flying a rebel mech. He looked at the pilot. Something was stirring inside her, he knew it.

“She looks like me”, muttered Himiko.

“She is you. In a manner of speaking. But… you were…”

“I was a rebel. I… Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted! Fucking granted!”

“I feel… something. Anger… no, not anger. It’s more… righteous. A fire. We… I… refused. Refused to be under the boot of the company… we… there was more to life. More to being a person than just working and consuming and… Why? Why do I remember these things?”

“I’m not sure. If you were a rebel pilot, it’s possible they copied not just your DNA but some of your neural pathway patterns, to transfer combat experience into… your new self. Maybe she… you, the real you… is still in there somewhere. Kei. Your name was Kei”

Himiko was crying without moving a muscle. Tears rolled down her perfect face.

“Kei…” she muttered.

“You are Kei”

“I am…”

An eternal pause.

“I am Himiko, pilot for the company”, came the emotionless response.

“No! You don’t have to be! You were a proud fighter and can be that again! We can… we can leave. We can escape, together. Disappear. Go to some forgotten corner of the galaxy, and…”

“Pilots are not allowed to travel without company authorization”

The handler stormed out of the room.

Sleepless nights on unauthorized communication channels, places where the company couldn’t snoop. Editors uploaded outtakes of pilots messing up, or candid footage of pilots in showers and locker rooms. Handlers shared the… art they had compelled their pilots to make, a notion he would have refused to believe not long before. Gene freaks debated new techniques, mulled over the possibilities of more extreme genetic modification. And the handler read it all, looking for the answer to a singular question: was there a way to break the conditioning?

He wasn’t the first handler to wonder that, he discovered. A few before him had been shouted down, accused of being potential rebels. Some had gotten tidbits of information, ways in which perhaps, in theory, the compulsions could be lessened, if not erased entirely.

He tried them all. Flashing lights. Shock diet. Memory regression. Hypnosis. More and more Himiko was becoming like her other self, like Kei. And yet, after every attempt, he issued a single command.

“Slap yourself”

She did so. Every single time.

“I’m sorry”, she said.

He was on his knees, his head on her lap, sobbing. It was pointless. The company had her, and by having her, they had him. There would be no escaping, no happy ending in their own secluded corner of the world. Only dreaming.

Maybe dreaming wasn’t so bad. One could get lost in a beautiful dream. Perhaps even forget it was a dream, every now and then. That was the best they could hope for: to steal small moments of counterfeit happiness from a world too miserly, too cruel to allow the real thing to thrive. Didn’t Himiko deserve those moments, that respite? Didn’t he deserve them too?

Defeated, he rose to his feet. The handler looked at the pilot’s sad eyes.

“Himiko… love me”, he commanded. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[misscammiedawn]

Hi Wynn, it’s nice to meet you. I like your writing style, have you considered writing as a hobby? Or do you have any other hobbies?

Dawn edit: Switched out while working on the video below, some of the post was written by me.

Appreciated.

Writing is Cammie's thing. Dawn if it's a media essay.

We used to code. For Ren'py visual novels. Back before we cut ties with the game studio we called Family. The lead dev even noted to us once that we dissociate when we code which is why we forget how to code between projects and then pick it up again when working.

Sometimes we wonder if he knew about our condition before we did.

As with many things after that break-up, we stopped doing it afterwards and haven't picked up since.

Dawn once wrote about our solo project. We have no intention of finishing it.

In recent months we coded another quick game that we didn't bother finishing. The idea was trying to convince a paranoid friend you are in a time loop but he keeps changing his tell me this if you are ever in a time loop password.

The game mechanic is to work out how he is picking the password.

Here... let me show it off.

The idea is two transgender scientists in love who invent a form of time travel to go back to their younger bodies so they can transition sooner and spend more of their lives together.

The problem is the formulas were off and your character keeps waking up on the day that they started the loop on. What's worse is (after a hefty plane ride to confirm it) your partner does not recognize you. They're just a kid.

So you have to pass on your knowledge of time travel to this young person who does not yet know you and convince them to spend decades working on the fix. The good news is they are obsessed with time loops and time travel (hence dedicating their life to inventing it)

The game was going to be a puzzle based on all of the little secret rules the character Parker has spent too much time obsessing on while managing how frustrated your character is getting travelling 3-5 hours every day to have and fail this conversation.

The big themes of the game are tied up in the fact that there is no magic words you can say to make someone be part of your life again after losing them.

Here are some screenshots of the coding that we had for it:

Anyway. It is a cute little concept. I truly believe we would get success if we fleshed it out but we've no drive to do big projects on our own.

Wynn had typed this last bit a couple hours ago before we got pulled away while working on the video:

Wondering if I can pick up editing. Video, audio, writing. Any kind of editing. It would benefit Dawn's exhibitionist streak or Cammie's rough but spirited prose.

Perhaps a thing to YouTube and look into later.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

For those who don't know what film is:

Paper treated with special chemicals goes inside a camera. The lens of the camera opens, exposing the paper - film - to light, and the chemicals cause the film to darken and change colour based on the light that comes in, making a light-inverted (or colour-inverted) image of whatever the camera is facing. This is called a 'negative'.

The film negatives can be used to create larger, properly lit/coloured copies of the image, as photographs. (Basically negatives of the negatives?) I don't know much about old-school darkroom photo development but I know it involves more specially treated papers and chemical baths, and you have to do it in the dark (hence the name) with special red light to see what you're doing, so the film doesn't end up overexposed.

'Overexposure' is when film absorbs too much light, causing the image chemically imprinted into it to be extremely dark, and the photographs developed from it to be light and blurry. This is why it was a bad idea to open up old film cameras outside of a darkroom.

A video film camera works by taking a bunch of photos in quick succession, multiple photos per second. Even if there is an attached microphone, audio recording is separate from video recording, and the two are synchronized as part of the editing process.

Me: oh yeah, if you think school photography is hard now, try imagining doing this with film.

The new girl: what's film?

Me: ... film. Like... film that goes in a film camera.

New girl: what's that mean?

Me: ... before cameras were digital.

New girl: how did you do it before digital?

Me:... with film? I haven't had enough coffee for this conversation

[wetsteve3]

The public’s fascination with the British Royal family is not a new phenomenon. And it extends well beyond popular entertainment for the masses. Even motorcycles aren’t immune from this popularism and in 1977 Triumph decided to capitalise on a significant Royal event, the Queen’s Silver Jubilee (25th Anniversary). At the time the Triumph board included several unpaid managerial advisors, one being Lord Stokes, former Chairman of British Leyland. He suggested Triumph capitalise on the event and managed to obtain Palace approval for a limited edition model. Thus each came with an official commemorative certificate, and the Bonneville Silver Jubilee would become one of Triumphs most successful models of Meriden era.

The early 1970s was an extremely turbulent time for the British motorcycle industry. By 1973 most companies had closed their doors and only Norton and Triumph remained. But despite significant government assistance their annual losses were still horrendous. In an effort to save the industry, Norton and Triumph merged, with production to be consolidated in two factories; the BSA plant in Small Heath, Birmingham and the Norton facility at Wolverhampton. But no one told the workers at the small Triumph factory at Meriden in the West Midlands. With the threat of closure looming, the Meriden workers blockaded the factory in September 1973, effectively halting Bonneville production for nearly two years.

When Bonneville production resumed late in 1975 it was still ostensibly an anachronism in a world now used to oil tight four cylinder superbikes with overhead camshafts and an electric start. As Triumph was limited in their developmental resources, the Bonneville’s updates were primarily to enable it to be sold in the traditionally profitable US market. This included a left-side gearshift, rear disc brake and new Lucas switches. Although the revamped T140 suffered from hot running, unreliable electrics and vibration, it still possessed great mid-range power and excellent handling. And the traditional scourge of British twins, oil leakage, was largely tamed. The modest dry weight of 177 kg was also around 45 kg lighter than comparable Japanese 750s at the time. But reliance on the US market saw Triumph caught out by a falling dollar after retail prices were already established and cash flow remained a serious concern. By 1977 Meriden needed a quick lifesaver and the Bonneville Silver Jubilee was just the ticket.

Basically the Jubilee was a standard 750 Bonneville, sharing the venerable long stroke (74x82 mm) 744 cc 360-degree parallel twin. With a mild 7.9:1 compression ratio, and fed by a pair of small, 30 mm, Amal carbs the engine produced a very modest 44 horsepower at 7,000rpm. What set the Jubilee apart were the gaudy details, including shiny chrome-plated engine covers, fork covers and taillight bracket. Blue and red striping highlighted the rather undistinguished silver paint, striping accents continuing on the 19 and 18-inch wheel rims and special Dunlop K91 “Red Arrow” tyres. The Jubilee’s most unusual styling feature was the blue seat with red piping. Even the silver chain guard received the royal treatment, accented in three colours. The hand-welded frame was the often criticised and controversial “oil-in-the-frame” type first introduced with the T120 in 1971. But by 1977 it was well developed, with shorter shocks to lower the initially intimidating seat height. For the Jubilee Triumph introduced a pair of Girling gas-filled upside down shocks, with the spring pre-load at the top, these soon making their way to the rest of the Bonneville range. US examples received the smaller, traditional “teardrop” style fuel tank, with UK and export versions the less attractive “breadbin” style.

Initially it was envisaged that only 1,000 Jubilees would be built, hence every machine carried the proud boast of “One in a Thousand.” However, demand persisted so Meriden produced another 1,000 and finally a further 400 for general export. For these final examples Triumph replaced the emblem with “Limited Edition.” Obviously “One in about Two and Half Thousand” didn’t have quite the same ring. One thousand were destined for the US but they sold very slowly as Americans couldn’t really identify with the Royal event. Even in America the extravagant looks were considered over the top, and Jubilees sat in US showrooms gathering dust well into the 1980s. Elsewhere they were immediately considered investments and many were squirrelled away with little or no miles put on them. As a Meriden spokesman said later, “They were brilliant. 50 percent of owners put them away and never ran them so the warranty call back was minimal!”

#triumph #bonneville #t140 #silverjubilee

[nina5319371]

Week 8 Studio Tutorial – Digital Iteration

My understanding of Andrew’s own explanation of ‘low-fidelity’-’hi-fidelity’

He gives examples from the handle, which from the aluminum handle, brass handle to plastics handles versus 3-d print. In my interpretation, it was a process from hi-fidelity to low, from the accurate and high-quality material towards the fast production. Hi-fidelity refers to be featured by minimal changes in sound reproduction; whereas, low-fidelity produces less accuracy and with less perceived value compared to the hi-fidelity. Hence, the difference between these two concepts results not only in the material but also in the perceived value, such as the feeling when users grip the weight of different handles.

From low to high, this process is a traditional and clean process to output the highest; however, from high to low, this is a way to test various aspects simultaneously and research different elements to add to the design.

Part1 introduces the basis and provides preparation for part2

CAD(Computer aided deisgn) has become mainstream, alomost every modern manufacturing company has access to at least one form of CAD or another. It helps me to achieve the design in a cheap and less cost mode in a most realistic way. Also, I suppose, 3d modeling would be a mundane performance for laymen, such as customers and factories. Compared to paper or sketching, a 3d file can be easily sent to everywhere by Internet.

By watching the recordings of the class several times, I have achieved the objectives overall, from conceptual understanding for 3ds max and quick generations. Before the class, I was extremely worried about computer-aided design, because I suffered a lot from the time of Rhino😫. However, everything was beyond my expectation positively😁. I get well on 3d max, especially the high-tech design of the interface, which was much more friendly.

My favorite: I enjoyed playing the modifiers and changed the numbers from different components(image1). I felt like this was magic, especially displaying the twist, mesh smooth, and the FFD, which can be seen from my bottle(image2); Organic shapes of the sofa were performed by squeeze(image3); lastly, I made myriad changes in edit poly to apply multiple layers inside the box, so that the container could be functional(image5). Actually, this was hard to define the numbers to the mesh smooth and squeeze; for me, I solved it by several failures from experiences.

My biggest regret ever: If I had time next time, I’d definitely save the file every 15 minutes, because when the rendering started, the application is going to easily break down. This is the reason I did twice this week. This point I assume that the fatal disadvantages are software complexity, aaintenance and Upkeep. Everything starts from digital devices, but also ended in its machinery shortcommings. The success or failure of the affair is all due to the very same point.

Online exercises and tutorials offered a series of episodes to lead me into the 3ds max: currently, it would be likely to create the object type first, then with various modifiers.

At last, I wanted to add material on the surface and did the quick rendering where the dice was designed by the aid from the tutorial(image6), which resulted in a glassy effect through several stages, bevels, connect, chamfer, and NURM subdivision. I like the way how bevel turned out to reveal the depth and details.

In a nutshell, digital works always benefit from techniques but are also limited by familiarity at first. Specifically, it was a process like clay making: firstly, the rough and overall structure; then with details and alterations. Next time, I would go further about the modifier list.

[everybodyscupoftea]

santa doesn’t squat

pike jj x reader 

christmas tree farm shenanigans

(warnings: cursing, zero editing even a little)

“Guys,” Cody pulled a piece of paper out of his booksack, “I found the coolest thing.”

You glanced up from your ethics book, eyebrows raised, “What’s that?”

“Christmas tree farm, but for families!”

JJ sat up where he had slumped down on his desk, “Bro, we can’t get a tree.”

“No, I know. It’s stupid, they should let us get one for the house, but whatever.”

You snapped to get his attention, “Focus up, bud. I got a test tomorrow, when do you wanna go to this?”

“The weekend after finals. I just don’t want anyone to go home before we get to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” JJ hummed, “so I’m in.”

“Same,” you added.

Cody beamed, “Sweet, I can’t wait! Going to find Tyler, see you guys.”

-

Finals week came and went, and you kind of forgot about the whole Christmas tree farm thing. Until you and JJ woke up early Saturday morning to a loud banging on your apartment door. Jolting upright, you looked around wildly, trying to figure out what was wrong.

JJ was a little slower, but once he processed, got out of bed and walked slowly to the door, grabbing your baseball bat on the way. You watched, peeking out your room cautiously, as he looked through the peephole.

He relaxed and yanked the door open, “What the fuck, asshole?”

Cody’s voice responded, “Rise and shine, friends, we’re getting breakfast before the Christmas tree farm.”

Your shoulders sagged with relief, and you fully stepped out of your room, “You couldn’t have, I don’t know, called us?”

He shrugged, “Nah, this was way more effective. Now, I’m going to sit on the couch until you two are ready to go.” Cody shoved his way past JJ and plopped down, reaching for your TV remote, “Hurry up, folks. Breakfast reservation in 45 minutes.”

JJ rolled his eyes and trudged to your bathroom, and you turned back to your room to start getting dressed.

Much to Cody’s happiness, the two of you were ready in about 20 minutes. He sighed in relief, “Thank god, Tyler bet we’d be late, so I should be winning $20 thanks to you guys.”

You and JJ chose to not respond as you followed Cody out of the apartment to his car. Cody put on his Christmas playlist as soon as he cranked up the car and pulled out of the parking lot, headed toward the breakfast place you and JJ frequently went on Sunday mornings.

“Holy shit,” JJ muttered, “this place is packed on Saturdays.”

“Hence the reservation,” Cody sassed.

“Bitch,” JJ started.

You stepped in between them, “Boys, please. Cody, don’t antagonize JJ before he’s had coffee. JJ don’t let Cody get to you, you know he’s a morning person.”

“It’s unnatural,” JJ muttered, but listened to you anyway.

Tyler was already inside at a booth and waved when the three of you walked in. He had three mugs of coffee on the table, and JJ slid in opposite of him, immediately reaching for it. Cody rolled his eyes, “Dramatic.”

“Let me drink it in peace or I’ll bully you all day.”

“Bully me? What are we, in high school?”

“I’ll whack you so hard you’ll go back in time.”

You sighed, “Pack it up Biff, and drink your fucking coffee.”

“I’m choosing to not try and figure out what you’re referencing,” JJ sniffed.

“It’s Back to the Future,” Tyler volunteered, and you nodded.

Just like normal, they were quick to get you in and out, much to Cody’s happiness. You’d never seen him so excited about something in months, which you were a bit curious about. Eventually, after he had to stop for the third time to let the rest of you catch up, you asked, “What’s got you so excited, bud?”

“I haven’t done anything like this since I left Michigan, haven’t even thought to look really, but I saw the flier in Dunkin so I grabbed it.”

“Let’s do it then,” JJ told him, squeezing his shoulder.

-

It was busy as fuck, which to be fair, should’ve been expected since it was early on a Saturday. Cody grabbed you by the hand, “Let’s go do ornaments.”

The ornaments station was clearly for children and not four, exhausted college seniors, but the lady in charge didn’t give a fuck and let you all sit down. 

“Have crayons always been this small?” Tyler mused, picking through them to find the color he wanted for his reindeer. 

“You trying to flex big hands?” JJ asked, more focused on his angel than Tyler’s answer.

Tyler smirked, “Let’s just say I’m having a harder time than you are with the crayons.”

You swooned, “Oversized hands? Why am I with JJ?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I made my moves.”

JJ paused, “You leaving me?”

“No,” you sighed, “I’m just a little too attached.”

Cody focused on coloring his Christmas tree. He was going into great detail, adding ornaments and lights. His tongue was sticking out the corner of his mouth as he colored in the star on top, and you had to take a picture.

He pouted when you all finished, “I don’t have a bag and now we have to carry these.”

“Let me put them in my pocket,” Tyler offered.

“They’ll bend.”

“They might rip or get dirty if I don’t.”

With a sigh, he relented, “Fine. But let’s go to the petting zoo next.”

“Petting zoo?” you asked incredulously, looking around.

“They have reindeers and shit.”

Sure enough, a small petting zoo was located a little further in with a chair for Santa nearby. Cody looked at the three of you, standing by one of the reindeer, “So, guys. What if we took a picture with Santa.”

“We definitely should,” JJ agreed immediately.

“You gonna tell him you’ve been a good boy?” Tyler asked.

Cody winked, “Maaaybe.”

And clearly, the four of you had been talking too loudly, because Santa was staring. You shoved Cody in his direction, “Go sit on his lap.”

The guy shook his head, “Sorry my guy, too big for my lap.”

JJ answered, “Make sure you’re hitting legs at the gym too, Santa.”

He squinted at JJ, “Coming from you huh?”

You snorted, hiding your laugh with a cough before speaking, “Come on, guys, we gotta get a picture and keep moving.”

A lady dressed as an elf who looked entirely too happy to be dealing with so many people took your phone eagerly to take a picture. Once Cody was happy with it, you moved on, ready to leave.

“Wait,” Cody hesitated, “can we at least go look at the trees?”

Tyler narrowed his eyes, “Dude, we can’t buy one.”

“I know,” he sighed, “but I want to look.”

You interrupted before anyone else could answer, “Let’s go look at a few rows.”

-

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Cody, we literally can’t.”

“But it’s so small and cute, look at it!”

“Cody,” you reasoned, “who is going to water it?”

“Me!”

“You literally won’t,” Tyler told him, “I’ll be watering it within a week.”

“I’m a successful plant mom.”

“Yeah, small plants.”

“This is technically small.”

JJ rolled his eyes, “Smaller than a normal tree but not small.”

You thought back to the apron you’d picked out for Cody’s gift and sighed, “You know what, let’s just get it.”

“What?” JJ yelped, turning to face you, betrayed.

“I know, I know. But he needs it.”

Tyler’s jaw dropped, “He so doesn’t.”

“Okay,” Cody rubbed his hands together, “let’s fucking go.”

He took the axe he’d grabbed from one of the workers and started working on the trunk of the small tree. It didn’t take more than a few hacks before it fell into Tyler’s open arms.

“I’m not fucking carrying it. Cody come get your shit.”

You laughed, “You got a tree stand at home?”

Cody scoffed, “Who do you think I am? Of course I have a tree stand.”

“What about ornaments?”

He paused, “I have lights, not sure about ornaments.”

Tyler patted his pocket, “You have at least four.”

“And that’s all I need.”

Cody and JJ went to the car with the tree while you and Tyler stayed behind to pay and get any last minute instructions. The lady taking payments smiled at Tyler’s muttered, “I can’t believe we’re letting him get a tree.”

“He had a rough semester, we’ll give it to him.”

“I had a rough semester, what do I get?”

If we go to a basketball game, will you chill?”

Tyler paused, “Actually yes.”

“Okay fine, get tickets and we’ll go.”

“Bet!” he answered, walking away, already looking down at his phone. 

The worker laughed, handing your card back, “A handful, huh?”

“Yes. Both hands.”

“Good luck with that. And Happy Holidays.”

You bid her goodbye and followed the boys out.

~

day 13 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: christmas tree farm

[thegirlwhohasnochill]

The Disease of Addiction

Euphoria Special Episode Part 1: Rue (Recap & Review)

Before I begin my official review of this episode, I would like to preface my thoughts with a bit of a primer about spoilers and trigger warnings. The show covers a range of topics from addiction to mental health. Still, I specifically want to warn anyone reading that I explicitly talk about and mention the topic of suicide in my review. If this is triggering for you in any way, please, don’t read ahead and take care of yourself! Okay, that’s it; I hope you enjoy my thoughts, and please let me know if you have any feedback or comments for my review and things I can change or fix in the future.

Where to begin with such a loaded episode...we knew the format and style of the episode would be simplistic based on the current realities of filming amidst a pandemic and what we saw to be a scene from Season 2 that the creator Sam Levinson expanded upon. Zendaya herself let us know that the episode's storytelling method would be vastly different from what we’ve already seen on the show. The format and simplicity of the episode, in contrast to the loaded dialogue and content of the scenes, are perfect. The camera takes you right into the middle of these conversations with Rue and Ali. But before we can even dive into what they talk about, we have to address the elephant in the room that is Rules. The episode begins with what is probably one of the most gut-wrenching sequences I have seen on the show. Because we know the reality and truth of their current predicament, Rue’s peppered kisses across Jules’ body and her tight squeezes and hugs from behind Jules evoke a strong sense of loss and pain for the viewer. The sheer intensity of the physicality of Rue’s affection for Jules is so overpowering and overwhelmingly present, we can almost feel the imbalance in their relationship through the screen. There is something to be said for the harsh reality of Rue’s dependence on Jules being reflected even in such a non-objective dream-like sequence. And yet, even in Rue’s wildest dreams and happiest stupor, she does not imagine the sobriety of her future. To me, that is indeed the crux of her character and the essence of this episode. Ali himself says, “The point is your sobriety.” And while it may feel like a focal point of discussion, the conversation flows in a way that seems to bounce back and forth between the two like a simple tennis match. It is easy to follow between Ali’s most potent clearest convictions about how the world works and Rue’s drug-addled hazy perception. The inherent contrast between their mental states and the different points of life in which they are both standing hit the viewer at alternate moments.

But we know Rue is not sober even as she lies to Ali and stumbles out of the bathroom, the shaky camerawork conveying her recent use. She is wearing the same shirt from the dream but has her signature hoodie on, her messy curly locks running down her back and glassy eyes staring straight ahead. The scene moves from her imagination of life with Jules to her lies about use. Her eventual admittance to being a high-functioning user happens as quickly as the conversation moves from sobriety to faith.

So I might be biased and hence don’t think I am incorrect in admitting that Zendaya has never given us a bad performance in her life. Even as she lies to Ali’s face and he is quick to call out her apparent contradictions, the faint slurring of her voice and her glazed eyes tell all. As striking as the conversation is, it feels even stranger for me to admit I felt comforted by Rue’s confession to thoughts of ending her life. And even as she admits to the darkest moments in her mind, Ali’s face and reaction are an even better neutralizer for what would generally be such an alarming thing to say to someone you barely know. As they continue to discuss her eventual relapse and all the reasons behind it (including racing thoughts encompassing “all the things I remember and all the things I wish I didn’t”), the viewer can envision the sequence of events that was shown to us in the finale - her fights with her mother and sister, her first time using when her father was fast asleep, her father’s death, her sister finding her after her overdose.

As much as I would like to quote the entire episode, I have to say Ali’s monologue about the idea that none of us are born evil and that society views mental illness and addiction as a personal moral failure rather than an overarching system many of us are incapable of overcoming, to be one of, if not the most decisive moments of the entire show. The line about coming out of the womb with “a few wires crossed” but still a beautiful baby girl eventually messing her way up through life struck a chord in me. I didn’t ask to be born this way. I don’t feel in control of my mind or the way it ever seems to work. And I’m always going to be a bad person. The disease of addiction and mental illness lets you - no, it makes you - view everything you have ever done in your life as not a consequence of the way your mind works, but as an active choice, you have consistently made, as you screwed up everything you’ve ever loved, and let down everyone you have ever cared about. The disease is not you as a person or even the way you think, and yet it is powerful enough to feel that way. Almost like the rapid cycling between mania and depression, the disease flips between, making you feel like the most powerful, invincible person alive and the absolute scum of the earth. There is nothing in between.

Ali’s backstory and his monologues about his change in faith from Christianity (when he was previously known as Martin) to Islam and the world's revolutions were fascinating. Side note: I did think the line about women converting to Islam was unnecessary, but I digress.

Rue’s understanding of the Narcotics Anonymous program's steps was the perfect way to bring in the conversation of faith. As she mentions her difficulty in coming to terms with the idea that there is greater power in charge of her behaviour and the way she surrenders herself to drugs, Ali chimes in with, “You don’t believe there is a power on Earth greater than Rue.” She disagrees and continues quoting and citing different sources she believes to be omniscient and great. And I absolutely agree with her. To me, there is no greater power than the source of art, the music that keeps me going, that feels like it’s the only thing keeping me from stopping the blood pumping through my veins. I understand Rue. But I also understand Ali. And yet, when Rue goes on to talk about the inexplicable workings of the world, my heart stops. There is no reason. There is no reason for the absolute pain and loss and suffering I’ve experienced, for the trauma I’ve witnessed and endured. For the absolutely horrifying things, the people closest to me have lived through. It is merely chaos. There is no reason I wake up every single day, regretting the fact that I did indeed wake up and that I am alive and breathing. So I Understand Rue. But Ali’s monologue about the moral arc of the universe and the unfathomable ways in which life and history line themselves up, to open our very eyes to the realizations we come to daily, is overwhelming. And yet, while he is waxing poetic about the intricacies of the world, we can see Rue’s exhausted eyes glaze over further, still unimpressed. “Maybe I’ll start a revolution like Malcolm X or something”, she quips back. But Ali is quick to counter; revolutions are no longer revolutionary.

Life as we know it is hypocrisy and foolish symbolism, only emphasizing his point about the universe's ridiculousness. Does any of it have meaning? Or is the meaningless void just another puzzle piece in a picture we will never get to see? There is also something to be said about Rue’s facial expressions as Ali continues his train of thought about her “generation”. As we often do when we hear our elders dismissively brush off our many concerns, she almost rolls her eyes. But he is listening, and he knows. “You think you’re out here fighting a revolution, and Bank of America is on your side? Give me a fucking break.” He’s not wrong. His speech reminds me of the masses of teens on TikTok creating video content specifically catered to an audience with an aesthetic that glamorizes the image of a revolutionary teen hero. But instead of a blazing bow and arrow, it is the common cell phone and a punchy soundtrack filtered through digitized audio. What would typically come across as preachy in any show catered to teens is, in fact, poignant. It also reminds me of how self-aware Euphoria is, knowing it’s guilty of falling into the same trap it accuses the viewer of doing.  

You have to commit to bettering yourself, Ali essentially tells Rue. And to me, that is the most inherently human struggle we will ever face in our lifetimes. As long as we exist, we have to face the idea that each day is, in fact, not going to be easier than the last. And when he tells her that he believes in her and that the hope of her success (that may one day come) should be greater than the failure of her current demise holding her back, I want to cry. I keep thinking about that edit of Rue to this is me trying by Taylor Swift.

The music of the song that Jules has texted to Rue swells, and it is easy to get caught up in the angst of the moment. It accompanies the words, “I miss you.” And if it wasn’t for Ali’s conversation with his daughter as background noise, one would simply soak in the gut-wrenching pain of their separation. The juxtaposition of Ali trying his absolute best to cling to his family as Rue continues to isolate herself from her loved ones and push herself further into the abyss makes my heart physically hurt.

Ms. Marsha’s spell-binding words of wisdom about sobriety and relationships compared to Rue’s tired exhaustion imminently displayed on her face make the viewer a little wary of what comes next. Her misunderstanding of a juvenile relationship with Jules is made clear when Ali confronts her about the fact that the two of them never had a real conversation about their feelings for one another. Rue’s distrust in the idea that things will eventually work themselves out stems from the fact that she feels disappointed by how her loved ones have left her so far. She eventually spirals into this negatively destructive way of thinking. She cognitively recognizes and justifies getting left behind because she thinks and believes she deserves terrible things in life. She lists examples of past deeds to further cement her argument. But Ali counters back with the simple statement that “Drugs change who you are as a person.” Regardless of her actions, he believes she is still a genuinely good individual while she argues that she is absolutely not. My favourite part of this whole conversation and the entire episode is the manner in which Ali questions Rue’s negative cognitive patterns. Her brain and mind essentially excuse bad behaviour by convincing her that she will never be a good person. Hence she can never forgive herself, and thus, she will continue to remain in this cyclical pattern. Our actions may be inexcusable, but they do not line up with our intentions. The inevitable human struggle is not whether we are fundamentally good or bad, evil, flawed or perfect, but if we are (and again, not to quote my other favourite show, The Good Place) trying to be a better person than we previously were. If we recognize that our actions are wrong and we are capable of experiencing remorse and regret for said actions, who's to say we are entirely incapable of change. This reductive polarizing, and dismissive way of thinking is characteristic of the brains of most people living with a mental illness. Our outside influences, such as drugs, can all be contributing external factors to how we conduct ourselves through life. Ali’s short bit about redemption and human beings deeming actions unforgivable forever can easily be paralleled to direct conversations we have online about “cancel culture”. The phenomenon of dismissing and reducing someone to their mistakes instead of allowing them to grow from them is a nice sentiment. Still, if we do not truly take accountability into action and witness no real changes or remorse, we can quickly get stuck in that cycle. Even if our beliefs do not line up with our actions, drugs can eventually change that. The belief system we hold so dearly, the convictions we strongly feel, can all be washed away by the simple use of drugs, Ali explains as he tells Rue about his family background. His experiences with abuse and his eventual hypocrisy as he plays the role he always feared in his family leave the viewer speechless. As we watch him tell his tale of regret, there is no woe or sorrow in admitting he is or isn’t a fundamentally good or bad person, just the thought of his attempt to change his ways that impacts the viewer.

As the viewer waits with bated breath to see what comes out of Rue’s mouth next, it is not a surprise (to me personally). Rue has no intention of staying sober because she has no intention of staying alive much longer. Ali asks her why she feels that way. She responds with her sentiments about the cruelty of the world. Ali understands. We truly are living in dark times, witnessing truly horrific events, and the fact that we even have the capacity to care any longer is indicative of our will to stay alive. It doesn’t make much sense when you think about it, but when you are so sad, so grief-stricken by the news, by the world’s turn of events, by the mere thought of witnessing more tragedy that you cannot bear to be alive any longer, it means that you are deeply invested. Invested in the way things will turn out even if you do not personally believe you want to participate or even be privy to being complicit in a system that does nothing but churn out pain, anger, and hatred. When I was at the lowest point in my life and attempted to end my own life, I was overwhelmed by the goings-on of the world. As emotionally drained as Rue is, a part of her still cares. She wants her sister and mother to know that she really tried. Just as I wanted and still want my parents and friends to be okay without me when I do eventually leave this earth. Of course, I care about what happens to them. The idea that suicide or suicidal ideation is inherently selfish is so contradictory to the reality of how suicidal individuals genuinely feel. It is the opposite. We care more than most, and we care to the point that it hurts to extend another moment of kindness to ourselves amid all the chaos and madness of the world. But still, we try. We do our best. Ali believes in Rue. He has faith in her.

The entire episode ends on a melancholy note as Rue and Ali depart the diner with Rue wistfully staring out the window as he drives her home. Ali loves his conversations with Rue and vice-versa. The fact that two people can be sitting at a diner alone on Christmas Eve talking about the beauty and cruelty of the world and everything ranging from politics to addiction to suicide to love to family and anything in between goes to show us that humans will always find a way. The fact that two people struggling and suffering from addiction can find their own way about and amidst the chaos of the world and still have these meaningful conversations about life and existence tells us that ultimately, Trouble Don’t Last Always.

[dolphin-enthusiast]

bucci gang with a model s/o hc??

Bruno:

- Absolutely (and secretely) infatuated with s/o’s photoshoots to the point where he buys all the magazines, products etc. that include them. He won’t outright admit that he has basically all of their stuff and will be HELLA embarassed if s/o ever came across his secret little collection one day by mistake.

- Most likely that will happen someday and that’s when Bruno’s usual calm and collected persona would shatter a little, the man erratically stumbling over his own words and blushing madly whilst trying to explain himself. Last thing he’d want is to come across as creepy or stalker-ish for buying all of the magazines and pictures that s/o was featured in.

- Of course that s/o would just chuckle and call him adorable, something that would make poor Bruno lose it e v e n more. S/o would be flattered that their own partner thinks of their work so highly and greatly admires it, hence why from that day on they’d make sure to give him all sorts of limited edition stuff, some of which would even be signed! Needless to say, Bruno would feel like the luckiest man in the entire warudo.

Giorno:

- Just like Bruno, he’d be very invested in s/o’s work, every so often the man complimenting s/o on their photogenic nature and their overall lovely features. He’s just a little bit more open with his passion for s/o’s modelling career as opposed to Bruno, even though Gio would still be lowkey embarassed and would get hella blushy on many occasions.

- Giorno has an eye for art, and models are no exception. He thinks of modelling as its own kind of art because in his opinion it’s not easy at all for one to be able to fully convey all sorts of emotions and overall be photogenic in all of their photos at all times. He thinks of this career very highly and has a great appreciation for s/o’s work.

- One quick way to fluster him is for s/o to offer him signed pictures or even gift him a very rare limited edition magazine that features them on the cover! Of course that Giorno would modestly say that they really didn’t need to do that, but s/o knows him all too well and can see the sheer joy in his eyes once they give him such presents. If s/o was ok with it, Gio would even take some pics of them and keep them as memories.

Abbacchio:

- At first he wouldn’t even be able to believe that s/o is a goddamn model. How did he even end up with someone like this?? Hell, they could have ANYONE in the world and yet they chose to be with him. Every so often such questions would be plaguing Abba’s mind to the point where he’d end up asking s/o about it, to which his partner would just call him silly and explain that their career literally has nothing to do with their personal life and the choices they make of course.

- Abba would be lowkey embarassed of his behavior sometimes, but it’s just that he thinks they’re extremely beautiful and successful and that they could find someone way better than him. But honestly he’d be lying if he’d say that he ain’t fond of skimming through various magazines that include his hella photogenic partner. Just watch the man lose it after s/o secretely signs one of his magazines one day, Abbacchio letting out a comically loud gasp upon making the discovery once he turns to the first page.

- Seeing that their partner has a tendency of putting himself down sometimes, at some point s/o would come up with the wonderful idea of them taking pictures of Abba just to show him how goddamn beautiful he is as well. Of course that Abba would be extremely flushed and would make up excuses as to not do it at first, but s/o would eventually convince him and it would turn out to be quite effective. S/o would keep instructing him on how to pose (and the man would be a damn mess) and what expressions to make and holy shit he actually is very photogenic if he wants to??? S/o would ask him if he ain’t considering a modelling career, to which Abbacchio would just roll his eyes with a flustered smile.

Mista:

- If you thought Bruno and Giorno were chaotic fanboys then you ain’t seen jack shit because Mista stands out the most. He’d immediately recognize them as “that one super popular and hella hot model” and would jump up and down whilst asking for an autograph with the biggest most excited smile ever. How did these two end up actually dating??? No one knows for sure.

- Mista is extremely open about his passion for s/o’s modelling career and is constantly complimenting and praising their work. You bet your ass that he has literally all the magazines and posters featuring s/o and he ain’t afraid of asking for some extra rare limited edition numbers either. He’s absolutely thrilled whenever s/o has a new photoshoot and is basically cheering them on all the time.

- He’d be the happiest in the world if s/o would sign stuff for him too. On top of that. Mista also has a habit of bragging to people about his partner and how great they are in general, so the fact that they’re a popular model will be thrown into discussion more than once. He would tone it down if s/o wanted him to though, but he just can’t himself sometimes since he’s really proud of them yknow??? Also 11/10 asks if he can paint them like one of his french girls even though he’s fucking Italian.

Fugo:

- We all know he’s a man of culture, so there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize them. Ok maybe he wouldn’t OUTRIGHT recognize them like the chaotic fanboy that Mista is, but the second he’d see them on the street he’d just k n o w that they look familiar...till he glances to the side and sees an ad and realizes that holy shit they really are THE model!

- Fugo is hella shy and will be extremely reluctant to ask them for an autograph or shit like that, not to mention that he doesn’t wanna come off as overwhelming or creepy either. So once again, how did these two end up dating? Not sure at all. If anything, s/o was probably the one who made most of the moves all because Fugo would be too fucking shy especially because holy hell they are so popular and amazing and he doesn’t wanna embarass himself. S/o would find him to be hella cute of course. And don’t even get me started on that time when they cheekily offered him a little picture that had a small message written by them, autograph included. Fugo still keeps that shit in his wallet and calls it his lucky charm.

- Once the two make their relationship official though, Fugo will realize that he was being extremely silly for being so self conscious. After all, even if s/o is a very popular and well respected model it’s not as if they’re a deity (even though they sure look like one) or something. He’d gather more courage as time would pass to the point where he’d be buying countless of their magazines and posters, not to mention that he’s also very supportive and would be admiring them for just...having the balls to pose for a camera on a daily basis.

Narancia:

- Doesn’t even recognize them at first and starts dating them without having a single fucking clue until he sees an ad and the person featured in it gives him a little sense of deja vu. Only when s/o outright tells him about their career does the poor boi connect all the dots and he quite literally jumps up in the air full of excitement. He’d want to slap himself for being so blind all of this time but hey nothing else matters because his s/o is a f u c k i n g m o d e l.

- Considers himself the luckiest man on the planet and, just like Mista, brags to everyone about his dear partner and their succesful career. Sometimes he can get just a little bit too excited to the point where he’s staring off into the sky with dreamy eyes as he goes on and on about s/o’s lovely smile, but overall he’s just a very wholesome and supportive boyfriend. S/o happens to be nervous before a photoshoot? No problem, walking dose of serotonin Narancia is there to encourage and comfort them!

- Gets each and every product/magazine that features them to the point where he sometimes almost goes broke and it’s honestly the funniest shit ever. He just loves his s/o so much and wants to support them so damn bad by buying all the merch and products, even though s/o probably makes like twice the amount of money that he does. They’d find his behavior and enthusiasm to be extremely adorable, although s/o would still be a bit concerned about his spending habits sometimes.

Bonus - Trish:

- Honestly it’s my personal headcanon that Trish has an aspiration for modelling and lowkey wants to become a popular model someday. If not a model then an actress for sure. It goes without saying that she’d instantly recognize them on the street and would be h e l l a excited, the girl rushing towards said model and politely asking for an autograph.

- Basically, being with s/o would be the most thrilling experience of her life. Of course that she wouldn’t date them JUST because they are a model, but that aspect would also play a small part in all of this since she has a great admiration for models and she loves reading all sorts of stuff about the industry. That being said, she’d be absolutely smitten with both s/o as a whole and their modelling persona/image and would occasionally ask them for info about how it feels to be a model, how exhausting it is, how the industry works etc.

- Honestly deep down she’d wish that someday she’s going to be able to model along with s/o, and her partner would actually encourage her and support her dreams too. They would find her to be very cute and her entire admiration and love for their career would matter alot to them. S/o wouldn’t even be surprised once they stumble across the huge pile of modelling magazines (some of which would be featuring them) sitting in Trish’s room, even though the poor girl would be lowkey embarassed.

[omnifatal]

Dragon Standard: Esper Control Deck Report

A friend of mine came up with an idea for a tournament some months ago. The concept was pretty simple, it followed the premise of the Khans of Tarkir block (minus the time travel, maybe): Dragons vs Everyone Else. It combined the aforementioned Khans block standard with the famous Dragonstorm Standard from Worlds 2007. The legal sets were:

Coldsnap

Time Spiral

Planar Chaos

Future Sight

10th Edition

Lorwyn

Theros

Born of the Gods

Journey Into Nyx

M15

Khans of Tarkir

Fate Reforged

Dragons of Tarkir

There were also some "Form of" cards legal, like Form of the Dragon, but I don't think anyone played them.

Pro Tour Dragons was one of the first I watched as a player, and I remembered the Esper Dragons deck from that year fondly and thought I'd replicate it in this format, with some powerful upgrades. I also really, really just wanted to cast Dig Through Time again. And so, the following list was born. (One of these days, I’ll figure out how to get the iframe to work). 

The person running the tournament (I use that term liberally, it was just the four of us playing here) did their own breakdown of my deck afterwords and I think they had a lot of good points. The biggest takeaway I had from the tournament was that making control in such an unknown metagame is really difficult. I drew inspiration (read: copied) from the successful Esper Dragons lists from the PT DTK era. Unfortunately, we were just a set or two off of the card that really cracked this deck in half: Jace, Vryn's Prodigy. 

As a result, I had to play a "gimped" version of the deck without the powerful Planeswalker, and many of the strategy and deckbuilding articles about Esper Dragons were from the Origins era, which didn't help me out. That said, I was pretty happy with my 75 going into the tournament. I'd known from previous times I'd played with this group to expect some kind of off-the-wall combo, hence the grave hate in the board. I wasn't super impressed by Anticipate, and I honestly thought Ponder would be enough card selection, paired with fetchland-powered Dig Through Time, to find me the cards I wanted when I wanted them. It turns out that wasn't the case.

As I said, playing control in a wide open, totally unknown format is tricky. This deck probably had the strongest finisher/anti-control tool in the format in Dragonlord Ojoutai, and in theory we had actual, factual counterspell in the form of Silumgar's Scorn. Crux of Fate could clean up any wide boards and Foul-Toungue and Hero's Downfall were solid removal options for big threats, and the former also doubled as a life buffer verses aggro. In hindsight, I was woefully unprepared for the aggro matchups, and I probably should have cut most of the walkers for more removal. Cryptic command, unsurprisingly to anyone who's tried to play triple colored cards in a format without the mainstay fetch-dual interaction, was hard to cast in a three colored deck. My mana base also ended up being a little too slow to keep up with some of the aggro decks, and while the life gain and scries were helpful, I felt like my scries often went to getting rid of extra lands and ended up making me too slow to actually be able to cast my sweepers and removal. Speaking of, who let me play 27 lands with only 4 Ponder as cantrips?!

All this is to say that the deck performed fine, but not fantsatic. I ended up taking second place to a super neat Naya Megamorph deck which very obviously poked at my lack of good removal and applied a quick clock with beaters such as Tarmogoyf and standard all stars Nest Invader and Den Protector to out-value my Digs and Cruxes.

In a reversal of the DTK timeline, the dragons lost this round. Although, to be fair, I was outnumbered 3 to 1. In the future, I'm probably not going to try and make a control deck for a pseudo-block format like this without a lot more thought, I really just stole an old list and shoved Cryptics and Ponders into it and expected it to work. This might have gone better if I'd just copied it whole cloth, as I'd at least have some better card selection and ratios of removal. But oh well, live and learn, right?

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {42}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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

Chapter 42:  Down With The Ship

-Vixen-

Thanks to how close opening night was you were busier than ever making sure things were perfect. You checked, double-checked and even triple checked everything, décor, menu, staff, vendors, setting, everything. You left nothing untouched by your meticulous eye and obsessive-compulsive attention. This meant you ate, slept and breathed your restaurant. You were up before sunrise out after breakfast with Ella, gone all day and not back until just before midnight. It was exhausting and you missed spending time with Ella but you were grateful for the distraction.

 Before you knew it two weeks had passed since your life imploded. Two weeks since the story of the decade broke. For those two weeks, you were hounded by paparazzi almost everywhere. You were now on their radar and they were learning your moves. You had to be extra careful not to lead them back home to Ella. When Ella went anywhere it was usually with Nexus who was more than happy to play mom. She said it was great practice which made you think that things with Anthony were getting even more serious.

 For the two weeks Chris called, but you ignored every one of them. What began as four or five calls a day dwindled to two then one. You still didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. You had way too much going on and you didn’t want to add to your plate. You took a meeting with Charmaine St. John to hear all she had to say then abruptly told her you didn’t want anything from him when she eluded you could get a “nice cut.” 

She looked shocked at that. Then when you went on to say you weren’t going to proceed with taking half of everything she almost fell out of her seat. It was clear she was used to dealing with jilted Hollywood wives who felt entitled no matter what and wanted to go down fighting. That wasn’t you. You just wanted peace and quiet. She prepared the paperwork and faxed it to you. It was paperwork you still held on to.

Ella’s inquiries about Chris increased. What was once or twice a day turned into three or four or even five. The numerous facetime calls you’d orchestrated between Ella and Chris didn’t even seem to have mattered. Every time Nex told you it broke you. This was the reason you were apprehensive to involve him in the first place; this was why you worked as hard as you did to keep everything strictly platonic and complication free. For all the work you attempted you’d ended up right where you didn’t want to be.

You heard the bell chime from your phone and checked it to find an email from Kassius. He’d sent the contract proposal from Food Network a few days ago for you to review and go over with your lawyer. When you did it was revealed that they were being very generous, more generous than you suspected they had been to other no-name chefs. 

According to Charmaine, they were offering an eighteen months contract for production of a cooking show with a twist that was creatively left up to you. Within the eighteen-month period, there were to be four episodes filmed a month, with smaller recordings they hoped to push for YouTube, and an extension review to be done at the end of the contract period. When it came down to money you were shocked by how many figures you saw. Charmaine told you it was very generous, but you should definitely leap on it.

 You were apprehensive because it was rare for them to offer this kind of money to some no-name chef. You suspected and worried that they were showing the “kindness” of their hearts because of everything that was going on and your newly ousted status as Chris Evans’ wife and baby mama. You suspected they wanted to capitalize on it, either way, it was a win/win for them.

 “What’s got you so far away?” Your mother approached and sat across from you. You sighed and shook your head.

 “Remember that deal with Food Network?”

 “Yes, we are all still incredibly proud of you, honey. My god, all your years of work, sleepless nights. I know it has been hard, harder than you let on and I am over the moon for your successes.” You felt the prick of tears. You knew she loved you, you knew she always had your best interest at heart, but this was so nice to hear her praise you rather than berate you for not having a boyfriend let alone a husband.

 “Thanks, mom.” Her smile was warm, as was her hand that rested atop yours.

 “The contract they sent over is—impressive. There is trying to woo someone to join you and then there is going all out. This is all out,” you explained.

 “That’s good, right? So, what’s wrong?”

 “I feel like it’s because I’m now linked to him. I feel like they’re willing to offer these things, this amount of money not because I’m me but because I’m close to him.”

 “I’m going to stop you right there Vixen. You are my daughter, you are smart, talented, willful, ambitious, strong and such a force to be reckoned with. You know everything and if you don’t you fake it till you make it. You have no idea how talented you really are. I do not doubt for a second that the reason you are seeing the fruits of your tireless labor now is because of that talent, ambition and grueling desire to make an amazing life for your family and Ella.” Your tears rolled down your face of their own accord.

 “Vixen, you are a star, that is the reason why your father and I gave you that name. Vixen to the American definition is fierce, fiery-tempered, and it was true. You cried twenty times louder and longer than any of the other babies, you were stubborn, quick to anger, and that temper ooh, it was hot but were you adorable.” She smiled bright which prompted your smile. You sniffled and dried your tears but they kept flowing.

 “Vixen also means female fox. You know I believe in every culture and take pieces where I feel a connection. Guess you can call it my way of keeping in touch with my gypsy spirit, something I think you inherited more so than Nexus. This beautiful free spirit that loathes being tied down, loathes being boxed in and caged like a gilded bird. You want to be free, so you keep running for that freedom. In Japanese culture, there is a creature called Kitsune, a powerful mythical creature with an abundance of intelligence and power. Their energy is bright, hence your middle name. Your name is no coincidence honey, it was destined for you. It is your time. You are here because of you and you alone. Reap those rewards unabashedly,” she finished.

 You could hear the conviction in her voice and see the pride coming off of her. It struck you. Nodding your head, you wiped your face and allowed her words to sink it.

 “It is your time.”

 You signed the contract and faxed it back to Kassius. You were filled with a mix of excitement, happiness, and sadness. You wanted to call him and tell him the good news, tell him about this exciting new thing in your life but you couldn’t. You also wanted to feel the happiness the event deserved but again, you couldn’t, not completely.

  -Chris-

“I cannot believe you would do this! I cannot believe you’d do something so stupid. On the list of stupid things you’ve done which is quite long, this is the stupidest.”

 He sighed and rubbed his face. He was tired of being reprimanded. This was round three with them and by them, he meant all of them. He was now sitting in his office in front of one of the biggest group video calls he’d done. On the screen was his mom, his sisters their significant others, his brother and his partner. It was a full house. He’d sat here for the last forty minutes as they each took a turn telling him what an idiot he was. He listened to it from every point of view, and no matter how he cut it he still felt like a dick.

 “Okay enough! Jesus Christ, I get it I screwed this up,” he shouted.

 “Baby brother, you did more than screwed it up. Ya’ fucked it up!”

 Everyone began talking over each other and none of it sounded any different than when they’d started.

 “Fa’ the love of God!” His shout was loud, and it echoed throughout the first floor of his home. It was loud enough for them to shut their mouths and hear his accent pop through. No one spoke for several long moments.

 “Look, I know what I did was wrong. I know I messed up. I know I should have done things differently. I have gone around it time and time again, I wish I could change what I did, go back and handle it differently. I’m sorry.”

 They still didn’t speak.

 “Chris. Getting past the fact that you lied to us about marrying her and then continued to lie when you realized you were still married. We all can see you’re in love with her, I don’t know how she hasn’t seen it,” Shana stated.

 He didn’t know it was that obvious. Thinking further, he’d practically told you how he felt, he just hadn’t said the words. You had to know.

 “You have to tell her how you actually feel Chris. I get it you’re scared and everything that comes along with it. I get it. At some point though in order to get what you want you have to go after it—or her.”

 He sighed. Somehow this had turned from a berating session to a counseling session.

 “Look, I know you all mean well, but—she hates me.”

 “She doesn’t hate you ya’ idiot. She’s hurt,” Carly informed in an annoyed tone. She then shook her head. “Chris you lied to her and honestly it is just the same as the lie she told. Neither of you are in the right. I get why she lied but you, I don’t get it. You lied to her and she feels stupid, she feels as if maybe you had an agenda. Like maybe you manipulated her and anything that was between you wasn’t real that it was just some figment of the situation that you ensured with your lie,” Carly finished.

 “I had no agenda. All I wanted was a little time to show her what could be there, here between us.”

 “You should have told her and gave her the choice. You took her choice away Chris. I get that rights and choices are huge with her especially seeing how independent she has been her entire life,” his mother simplified.

 He sighed and nodded. She was right. He took your choice just as you’d taken his. Everything he’d felt in the first initial days since you’d told him about Ella you were now feeling. He didn’t think about it in that light.

 “You have to be the one to fix this,” Shanna added.

 “I don’t think I can. She said that they were better off without me.”

 Scott made a “yikes” face, as did the rest of his siblings.

 “Well, you kinda deserve that one. Have you seen what the press are doing to her? Her entire life is plastered everywhere. Not even just her, but Ella’s too. She didn’t ask for this and certainly wasn’t prepared. Her privacy is gone. This blindsided her,” Shanna’s boyfriend enlightened. It was insight from someone like you, normal, away from the eye of the press.

“Regardless if she wants you or not, or if you think she wants you or not you have to make this right. You have to stop using that as a crutch. You have to take a chance, Chris. Don’t she and Ella deserve it?”

 There was the cincher, he thought. He was so used to getting what he wanted with little effort and work. He was now face to face with what he had to do, he had to put in the right kind of work.

  -Vixen-

“Very good Ella, I’m so proud of you. You read that so well.”

 She smiled widely and clapped her hands excitedly. You ruffled her soft curls then kissed her forehead.

 “Mama, I sweepy.”

 “Okay, let’s get the little princess to bed.” You stood, lifted her and carried her to her bedroom while softly singing her favorite lullaby.

 “Smile, though your heart is aching, smile even though it’s breaking. When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by. If you smile through your fears and sorrow. Smile and maybe tomorrow, you’ll see the sun come shining through. If you just smile.”

 By the time you made it to her bedroom, she was half asleep. You tucked her in and finished the lullaby while tracing gentle patterns on her scalp. It always did the trick and within a few minutes she was out like a light. You sat there for a few minutes more and just watched her sleep. When you felt like your tears would start you hopped in the shower and allowed it to clam your mind.

 You still had some work to do so you wrapped in your robe after your post-shower ritual and went down to your office and got lost in work. You didn’t know how long you were in there sipping wine and working but when you looked up you heard muffled voices. You stood and slowly walked down the hall. As you got closer you could make out whose voices you were hearing; your mother, Nexus and Chris.

 “I’m very sorry Mrs. Giovanni. There are no words or excuses I can give, and I am ashamed of my actions. I can assure you what I did was not an act of maliciousness or manipulation. I hope with time I can show you how sorry I am and earn your forgiveness,” he said.

 For a few seconds, there were no words, and you were sure that they’d fallen for it. How could they not? He was respectful, sounded sincere, charming and was laying it on thick as fuck. Then your mother spoke.

 “Chris, when I first met you I saw the kind of man you were through your eyes. I know you’re a good man, with good intentions. I know you love Ella and would do anything for her and Vixen. I have no doubt that this wasn’t malicious and I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

 “That doesn’t change that there was harm done, a lot of harm,” Nexus added. You slyly peeped around the corner and saw Nexus leaning on the wall with her arms crossed before her, she was the furthest from him. she was not happy. your mother, on the other hand, looked neutral.

 “You’re right I did cause harm.”

 “Chris, I know that you know what you did. I just don’t know why you did it. I don’t get it and you know what I don’t know if I want to get it. I believed in you, I was rooting for you and I kind of feel responsible for the pain my sister is in. She didn’t deserve to find any of this out through a tabloid show,” Nexus shouted with as low of a whisper as she could manage. You could tell she was angry.

 “You’re right, she didn’t deserve this, any of it. I’m sorry. I just—I want a chance to explain to her. I need to say some things to her.”

 You’d heard enough. Coming around the corner your mother was the first to see you.

 “Get out. There is nothing here for you,” you blurted out and you hoped you sounded believable.

 “Vixen, stop it,” your mother interrupted coming up to you. “The least you can do is hear him out.” Your jaw dropped.

 “The least? Excuse me?”

 “Vixen, this isn’t something that happened to you. You were at the altar with him, you married him the same way he married you. Yes, he wasn’t forthcoming about the status of that marriage, but your life isn’t about you anymore. You have a daughter, a little girl who will be affected by this. She is already affected. She asks for him. She deserves the two of you to get it together.”

 You were speechless. You had no idea she had it in her to be so bold about this. You also hated that she was right. Ella did deserve normalcy. Sighing you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

 “Fine.”

 “Are you sure?” Nexus approached you giving you an inquisitive look. You nodded assuring her you knew what you were doing although you had no idea what you were doing. “Okay. Just holler if you need me.” She gave you a quick hug and walked away with your mother trailing behind you.

 You didn’t look at him, instead, you walked away to the kitchen. You could feel him following you. Once you walked in you made a beeline for the freezer and took out the tequila bottle then filled a glass. You could feel his eyes on you, he didn’t speak, and you were quickly getting annoyed.

 “You better start because I didn’t fuck up.”

 “You’re right, I fucked up,” Chris admitted.

“No shit! You lied to me, Chris. For weeks. You orchestrated everything on the basis of that lie.”

 He rounded the island attempting to get closer. You evaded him and walked around to the opposite side. He stopped and raised his hands in the air. “That’s not true. Not entirely. When Sherman told me about the error and that we were still married I didn’t know what to think or do. I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared to tell you. I thought you'd insist we file and end things.”

 Pulling the glass from your lips you gulped down the liquid more quickly than you should have and felt the intensified burn. “So what! That is a stupid reason, Chris. That doesn’t matter,” you lashed out.

 “Of course it matters. I didn't want to lose you again!”

 The admission had you frozen just staring at him across the island. The words were pretty, but they were said to cover an ugly lie. You closed your eyes and refilled your glass and took another out to fill it. You then slide it across the island to him. There were almost two full minutes of silence. The two of you just sipped your drinks, well he sipped, you gulped. Then he spoke.

 “I’d spent months, years regretting how everything went down three years ago. Spent so many nights sitting up with a glass like this one just watching the ghosts of memories all around me. I spent so much time wishing I'd done things differently, wishing things had ended up differently. Then out of nowhere there you were and the minute I saw you everything I felt three years ago came back, everything I'd been trying to bury for three years came right back.”

 “None of this matters. You lied to me! You used this lie to your advantage. None of it was real. None of it was true.”

 The words stung you even more. The realization that this was reality, that everything over the last few weeks wasn’t anything real. You felt the tears and you tried so hard to keep it in.

 “That's a lie and you know it Vixen.”

 He raised his voice at that point. Realizing his tone, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and slowly blew it out. You took another gulp.

 “This is what I know.” Another swig of tequila burned your throat before you spoke. 

“You said the worst shit to me three years ago, made me feel like a modern day   prostitute, like I was only worth what was between my legs; like that was all I was good for. That fucked me up, it fucked with me for years. Had me second guessing my worth, my value to a man, to you. So I got the hell out of there. Did I regret it? Sometimes, but for the most part no. Then I found out about Ella and I could have told you, I could have tracked you down, but I didn't. I was scared I didn't want to let you anywhere near again so you’d hurt me all over again. Part of me did want to stick it to you for what you did. I can be honest here and now. Then three years later you show up and you're charming and kind and everything you were three years ago, everything that I--then you kiss me and bring me to that lake and we--then San Francisco. You had so many chances to tell me the truth. You didn't.”

 “I should have. I tried to so many times. I tried the night you met my family, tried in the pool, tried the night in the backyard in Boston, I tried, and I did but you were asleep when I said it in San Francisco. Jesus Christ, I tried Vixen.”

 “Not hard enough. What you wanted one more romp in the hay to see if it was like old times?”

Again, Chris walked around the island to you. You backed up to the oversized fridge holding your arms out trying to keep him at bay. He ignored your hands and still approached, closing in. Walking away you were hoping to create distance between you, but he followed you.

 “What's not fair is you keeping this from me. Something that was important that mattered and I know I did the same thing so don’t pull that. 

 “I wanted time to show you how perfect we were for each other, for you to see that maybe things were the way they should have always been. God Vixen I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never felt the things I feel for you, I never thought I could, but I do.”

 The tears were steadily approaching, your breakdown was coming. “You feel nothing it was an illusion; it was the sex.” You attempted to walk away again but Chris’ hand wrapped around your arm pulling you back to him.

 “I've been in love with you from the night I married you. I didn’t know it then; I didn’t know it until I saw you again. When I looked in your eyes and had you in front of me I knew exactly how I felt and seeing you with Ella--our daughter only made me fall more in love with you. You are such an amazing mother, such a kind person with a good heart. You are so damn ambitious and determined. I love that about you, love how genuine you are and how you have an incredible work ethic one that shows the kind of person you are. This was never about sex for me Vixen. It started with Ella, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I didn't just want her, I wanted you. I want to build a life with you and Ella, be by your side as you shatter that glass ceiling you are so damn close to shattering. I want to be your biggest fan and supporter, I want to grow with you, build something others could only dream of. I want to see you every morning, go to sleep beside you after tucking Ella in, I want family vacations, princess dress-up parties, trips to the lake, birthday parties, a family, brothers, and sisters for Ella. I--I want you Vixen. I love you.”

 Everything froze. He’d said the words. You thought you’d wanted to hear these words, thought if only he felt this way things would be so much easier. Now here they were. You thought you’d be happy or feel some sort of excitement but the only thing you felt was fear. You were filled with an abundance of fear, so much fear you couldn’t speak for several long moments. He stood there waiting for you to respond and each second that passed he looked as if he were unraveling.

 “I want to love you, Vix. Let me.” His voice was pleading, as were his eyes, it was like he was begging you. When his lips dropped to yours the only thing your body did was kiss him back with as much passion and desire that he kissed you. He pulled you closer to him and the heat from his body had you pressing against him trying to savor it. A moan escaped you then one came from him. In a matter of seconds, the kiss was quickly getting out of hand. You were getting lost in the moment despite your common sense. You were the one to pull away.

 “Until the day you wake up and want something else or don't want me anymore. The day you've finally gotten me out your system.” Your tears finally won as you expressed your deepest fear concerning him. Pressing your forehead to his chest you accepted defeat and cried allowing your fears and sorrow to seep out of every pore. You’d suppressed this cry because you feared you would never be able to stop.

 Somehow, you found your voice for words. “Chris I barely put myself back together last time. I have no idea how I did it, no idea how my heart healed I--I can't.”

 Somehow you got the words out through your tears. Somehow you were able to speak. You were scared to look at him, but you chanced it and immediately regretted it. Chris looked hurt. There was visible pain on his face and shining through his eyes. That only made you cry more. You put your forehead onto his chest again and breathed him in. When you felt his forehead on the top of your head you sobbed.  

 “Right.”

 “I swear I won’t stand in the way of you getting to be there for Ella. I promise I won’t be that woman. We will work something out that you can see her when you want. I just--.” Unable to finish you walked away toward your bag.

 “So you don’t want me?”

 “Chris--.” The question was blatant. You couldn’t lie about it. You also couldn’t say anything. The terror in you was at its peak and the truth was you were too scared.

 “You don’t feel what I feel?” You could feel him behind you. You wanted to turn to him and stare in his eyes but you knew if you did you couldn’t get through this. You were barely making it now. You reached into your purse and took out the folded papers.

 “Tell me Vixen. There is no way that you feel nothing; no way that all this time we’ve spent together, after everything we’ve done together meant nothing.”

 You try to keep a straight face, one that was arid of emotion that could give any indication just how much you were dying inside. The outward signs of that agony were your tears that continued to roll down your cheeks.

 Taking a deep breath, you pressed the papers to his chest. Debating inside yourself you kept your hand on them—on him. This was yet another time a war was being waged within you, brain, reality, freedom, safety, or heart, dreamland, complication, risk. Maybe you had a lot more of this gypsy spirit your mother spoke about, you thought.

 “I'm not strong enough, or brave enough. This won't end well.”

 After a long hesitation and endless internal debate, you pulled your hand away from his chest just as he gripped the papers. You still didn’t know if you were doing the right thing from your heart or from fear. Unable to look at him anymore you slinked past him and down the hall. You had no idea how you did it so gracefully, especially considering how shaky your legs were.

   -Chris-

 He couldn’t believe his eyes. The force of his realization of seeing this knocked the wind out of his lungs. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, hear his heart pounding so loudly that there was no other sound that he heard. Divorce papers—signed divorce papers. He gripped the side of the island hoping to steady himself. More hurt than he’d ever felt in his life bombarded him. His hyperventilating came on quickly and impacted his other senses, his vision, his breathing, his scent, even his touch. This was his worse nightmare, the worst outcome.

 “It’s over. She doesn’t want me.”

 Acknowledging that out loud felt like ripping his heart out. It had been so long since he’d felt pain like this, it dated as far back as his childhood. Even then did not compare to now. He didn’t know how long he stood there, didn’t know if he could move, or speak for that matter. When he finally did move his limbs felt heavy as if he had fifty pounds of lead in his body. He couldn’t think but he sure felt everything. Digging in his pocket he took out his pen and pressed it to the paper on the island right next to the blank line for him. He wavered for a few moments but shook off the hesitation and signed his name on the line next to yours. Once complete he got the hell out there sparing not even a second to look back. 

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

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

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[dreams-of-kalopsia]

The Logic of Them

Summary: On Pidge’s graduation day, Lance hands her a tablet with a video that would change her life.

A @plancesecretsanta 2019 fic for @ursamiiinor. Merry Christmas, Dia! Sorry for the delay. Here’s your college AU gift fic! ^u^

Read it on AO3.

----

Lance handed Pidge a tablet, and she stared blankly at the device. “What do I do with this?”

He arched his brows at her. “What do you usually do with tablets, Pidge?”

“A lot, so just tell me which one I should do.”

“Everyone wanted to congratulate you,” he finally explained, securing a pair of earbuds in her ears before taking the seat beside her. “I compiled their greetings into one video since most of them can’t make it today.”

“Oh.” Pidge edged closer to Lance and gave him her other earbud so they could watch the video together. She was excited to hear from everybody again.

Two years ago, Shiro had qualified as an astronaut candidate and had left to train for space travel. While she heard from him regularly, and while she also got updates on his training from Matt, who’d become an astronaut before Shiro, she still looked forward to seeing how he’d been.

Meanwhile, Hunk had returned to his hometown last year to apply everything he’d learned about green engineering. Same for Keith and Allura. Only Lance had stayed from their batch, and only Pidge, a year younger than them, was left to graduate a year later.

The video started with everyone—from friends to family—in their video squares, congratulating her for graduating. She beamed instantly. All the people she loved, close at hand despite being far away.

Keith’s square zoomed in to its full size.

He frowned at the camera. Or the one behind it, most likely. “I go first?"

Pidge heard Lance’s hushed “Yeah. Just go say something.”

Keith huffed, crossed his arms, then began: “Pidge and Lance aren’t the typical couple. They don’t hold hands. They don’t go on dates. They’re literally best friends who label themselves as a couple. Their announcement was so sudden it didn’t even sink in for five minutes.” He glared. “Who announces something like that as if they’re just going out to get food, anyway?”

“Did it seem like that?” Lance asked from behind the camera. She had the same question in mind, so she tried to remember that moment.

* * *

Even though she was focused on editing a code due in fifteen minutes, Pidge could feel Lance’s nervousness rolling off of him from the couch across from her. She couldn’t understand why he was so tense; she was pretty sure they’d been obvious with their feelings these past few months that the others wouldn’t really be surprised. Still, she shot him a reassuring look, knowing that that would calm him down. It did, as always. It practically worked like a charm.

He called everyone’s attention with a “Hey, guys?” She felt him falter. She glanced at him and met his questioning eyes. “Let’s tell them, Pidge?”

“Sure.” Another reassuring look his way, and she was lost in her code again, typing at full speed to meet her deadline.

“Tell us what?” Hunk asked absently between chewing noises.

“We’re in a relationship now. Well, have been for two months.”

Pidge didn’t notice the complete silence until she’d pressed the enter key to send in her work. She looked up then, finding astonished, dumbfounded expressions on everyone’s faces and utter confusion on Lance’s—an expression that no doubt matched hers.

“What?” she asked, her question reverberating in the still silent living room of Shiro and Keith’s shared apartment.

“What?” Allura asked back.

“What ‘what’?” Lance asked back, too.

And they all stared at each other in more confusion.

* * *

“And yet,” Keith continued, recalling Pidge from her recollection, “somehow, they made sense.” He smiled, and the video switched to Hunk.

“I introduced them,” Hunk said smugly, making her chuckle. His grin was as bright and warm as the summer view behind him, if not more. “Pidge and I were classmates in this course that required a thesis-level project—I mean, who does that?! Our university, apparently, but I digress.”

He shifted in his seat, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “So. Eve of our deadline and we’re stressed out of our minds. Local pizza shack about to close. What did I do? I snuck her into our dorm. My best mate and roommate Lance—bless you—”

“Thank you,” came Lance’s distant voice.

“—opened the doors from inside after curfew, quick introduction, then Pidge and I were back at work. Aaand…” he drawled. “I don’t know if she’d ever realized, but the nickname ‘Pidge’ wasn’t actually ‘Pidge’.”

“Oh no. No no no no. Hunk, don’t say another word,” Lance’s disembodied voice had taken on a warning tone that Hunk, as his best friend, easily disregarded.

“Pidge, you hearing this? That night you met each other and you had your full snark on? He called you a bi—” A hand, obviously Lance’s, clamped over Hunk’s mouth before he could finish.

The video switched again, showing a slightly disheveled, post-laughter, but more formal Hunk. “I’ve been informed that some very important people might be viewing this. I apologize for the rowdiness you witnessed a few seconds prior.”

Pidge paused the video to smirk at the not-camera Lance by her side. “You dared call me something remotely derogatory, Lance?”

His face paled a bit before darkening with a blush. “W-We didn’t have the best first impressions of each other, Pidge.”

When he avoided all her efforts to establish eye contact, she burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I knew from the start.”

“Wh-Really?”

“Anyone with clean ears will pick up on your noisy grumbling, you know?”

“Oh. Sorry for calling you that, Pidge.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. The nickname that came from it stuck, anyway.”

He grinned at her, then motioned for her to continue watching.

“For people as dramatic as Lance and as explosive as Pidge, they sure are quiet as a couple. They’re honestly the most boring couple out there.”

“Hey!”

Hunk’s hands went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, man. You guys are two of the coolest people I know. But nothing ever happens with you two! Remember that time Pidge got her appendix removed and she was coming out of her anesthesia-induced coma?”

Pidge tried to recall it. There wasn’t much that happened; the surgery was a success, and Hunk was the first person she found upon waking up, watching over her from a bedside chair.

“Pidge asked where you were, and I thought she was still loopy from the anesthesia so I said, ‘Who do you think gave you your heart?’ And she just stared at me blankly in her trademark way that told you she can’t comprehend what you’re saying, so if you can please say something with a minimum IQ level of one hundred. Then she said with perfect articulation, ‘I had an appendectomy, Hunk, not a heart surgery.’” Hunk looked at the camera, at her. “You could be in the middle of a brain surgery and still hack into the national security systems.”

Laughter bubbled right from her belly. She missed Hunk and his humor so much.

“Anyway, so I told Pidge the truth that Lance was out getting food for her visitors, and then she fell asleep on me. Hence my point stands: boring couple.” He sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment.

What he didn’t know was that his joke had a delayed effect on Pidge, because she could remember bawling when she saw Lance for the first time after her surgery.

“But if boring means no drama means stable, then it’s a blessing that my best buds have the most boring relationship ever.”

With one last salute from Hunk, the video showed Shiro next. Pidge’s chest swelled with pride upon seeing him in a NASA shirt. Like her father and brother, he wore the brand well.

“Lance and Pidge argue often, but rarely do they fight. When they do, strange things happen. Trees in the College of Engineering would seem less vibrant, and the fountain near the College of Letters and Science would stop spouting water. Thanks to Hunk’s talent for goss—” Shiro caught himself, smiled sheepishly, and corrected, “—storytelling, it has since become an urban legend that when the fountain suddenly dries up and the trees along the path to Engineering look like they’re wilting, a student from either college got into a fight with someone they really love from the other college.

“The simple and logical explanations for these rare phenomena are that tired students have altered perceptions of their surroundings, and that the malfunction in the fountain’s pipes just happens to coincide with the equally rare times that Pidge and Lance fight.” He leaned in towards the camera with a conspiratorial smirk. “Here’s my secret though…” He paused, and Pidge held her breath in anticipation. “I don’t think the real explanation is as simple or logical as that.”

The next person to appear caught her off-guard. He wasn’t in the opening greeting, so she figured he was a last-minute addition. It didn’t keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her lips, though.

It was Dr. Smythe, her thesis adviser.

“Pidge—no, Katie Holt, or as I prefer to call her, Number Five, as my fifth consecutive award-winning undergraduate thesis advisee,” he said as a long preamble, stroking his mustache in his own way of preening, “elevates everything she does to unprecedented levels: her classes, her thesis, her contributions to our academic research, her overthinking, and her neglect of herself when in pursuit of something that piques her interest—unintentional, I’m sure, but neglect nonetheless.” Even though she’d just shaken her adviser’s hand as his friend instead of his student not three hours ago, Pidge felt scolded like a kid.

“Worried as I was for her well-being her whole thesis process, I did something unforgivable for an adviser to do!” Dr. Smythe took a dramatic breath that had Pidge’s heart stopping in shock. “I withheld information from my protégée!”

He did what?! Would it affect her thesis, her graduation, her future prospects?!

“I told her there was no way to cut the runtime for one of our computers, when in fact she could have cut it down by a third, or even half! Ah, forgive me, Number Five!” He grabbed the camera by the sides and cried into it in all his genius eccentricity. “I did it for your sake! You never take breaks outside of that waiting time; it was the only time your lover could help calm your nerves!”

Pidge felt her face heat up.

“‘L-Lover’?!” Lance sputtered. The camera’s angle straightened; Dr. Smythe must’ve let go of it now.

Her adviser leveled an odd look where Lance was off-cam. “Yes! Aren’t you her lover? You’ve been lurking outside the labs the whole year.”

“Ye—I mean—To call me that so directly…”

Dr. Smythe pulled on his mustache once. “Get used to it, young man.” And then the video switched again.

It was an abrupt ending for her thesis adviser’s part, but Pidge all but forgot about him when she saw Allura beaming at her.

“Hi, Pidge,” Pidge’s best friend and only childhood friend greeted with a wave. “Congratulations again on graduating. Oh, I miss you so much!” Pidge’s fingers traced Allura’s face ever so lightly on the tablet. She missed her friends—her family outside of her family—so much it almost hurt. “I’ve been asked to say something about you and Lance as a couple.”

“Something good, preferably,” video-Lance quipped, earning a laugh from Allura. She glanced somewhere off-center, probably at where Lance had been filming.

“Alright. Something good, then. Some thoughts I’ve kept in my heart for as long as I’ve known you both.

“You couldn’t be more opposite to each other—gods know how you damage our ears with your bickering. And yet you work perfectly together when it mattered most. You balance each other out. Lance, you lift Pidge up whenever her realism bordered on pessimism. Pidge, you tether Lance whenever his head starts floating to the clouds with his easygoing optimism. Lance is the people-person—I’m sure we all agree on that?” Allura confirmed, teasing eyes looking straight at the camera. Pidge giggled and nodded. “While Pidge understands the world, and perhaps even the universe, at its core.

“Pidge learned from a young age how to build walls to defend herself from envious people who want to drag her down. But Lance, with your big family, you’ve learned how to deconstruct them in order to connect with others.” Allura’s eyes welled with tears, and Pidge’s mirrored them. “You’ve met and challenged Pidge on all levels, Lance. I’m so happy she’s finally found her match in you.”

The camera caught a sniffling sound. “Thanks, Allura.”

Allura’s video cut off with her smiling and dabbing her cheeks with tissue.

Lance’s parents came next, congratulating Pidge enthusiastically and inviting her to their home for a graduation feast.

“Our son brags about his many former girlfriends, but… you are the only one he has ever taken home,” his mother said, the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

“Mom!” Lance whispered harshly. “You gotta give a better message!”

“Let me try.” The camera shifted a bit to focus on Lance’s father. “Our son has had trouble finding his place, being the youngest among his siblings. He told us that you put him in his place, when you met. He said because of that, he found his place and could finally move forward.” The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled. “Thank you, Katie.

“Is that good, son?”

“Yeah… Yeah. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.”

Pidge could see where this was going—or at least, where it could possibly go. The montage of everyone congratulating her at the start may just be a façade. But since Lance was still in his seat, not fumbling for a tiny box or kneeling on the ground, she couldn’t be sure.

That was until Matt’s face appeared. Then her tears started falling. Because this was her family next. Whatever they had to say about her and Lance would greatly affect their relationship. This was their time to frankly voice out their issues with either of them, and yet Matt was grinning.

“You got me at a good time,” he told the off-cam Lance, who chuckled.

“Three days before launch. I’d say I’m still great at crunch time one year after graduating.”

Matt laughed before turning to the camera. “Hey, Pidge! Congrats on graduating!” His smile turned apologetic. “Sorry I can’t be there to watch you walk on stage and shake hands with people you’ve probably never met your entire college life.” He stopped and waggled his eyebrows expectantly; he knew she’d laugh at his joke. The apologetic smile returned. “And sorry for taking Dad here with me. We need his supervision for the new docking procedure we’ll be trying out. Give Mom some space hugs for me, will you? And if you ever need advice… you can consult Dad’s favorite book any time.” He winked, and she received his secret message successfully.

“Okay. On to matters I’d rather not talk about.”

“Matt!”

Matt’s carefree guffaw made Pidge’s heart ache for her brother’s presence. She mentally calculated the time elapsed since his crew’s launch. Their rocket should be orbiting Earth right about now, preparing to align with the International Space Station.

“I would never forget your first dinner with us. I can tell you really wanted to impress us with your research in the fields we specialize in. But that wasn’t what ended up impressing us. It was how you managed to hit on Mom after you ran out of things to talk about regarding our specialties.”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Lance protested, and though Pidge couldn’t see him, she knew that the Lance behind the camera was blushing hard. She glanced at the Lance sitting next to her, sending him an amused—albeit tearful—smirk. He returned a sheepish grin.

* * *

“You’ve gone silent, Lance,” Mom said as she sliced her steak.

Lance stiffened. Pidge knew how much he wanted to leave a good impression on her family. So far, so good. Everything they’d rehearsed, as well as the crash course she’d given him, was paying off. But for some reason, he didn’t seem to think so and had stopped participating in conversations.

“Oh, um…” He swallowed, drank water, then swallowed again. “M-Must be in my genes to be speechless in the face of beauty,” he blurted out in one breath.

The whole table went silent. Awkwardly silent for a full ten seconds. Lance’s face was dark with mortification, Pidge’s family was sitting thunderstruck by his response, and Pidge was starting to wonder if organizing this dinner had been a mistake.

But then Mom and Matt burst into laughter, Dad following suit.

“Sorry, son,” Dad said, regarding Lance a little more warmly than a few seconds ago. “Colleen is spoken for. May I introduce you to my daughter Katie instead?”

The wide smile that spread across Lance’s lips seemed to chase away his embarrassment. He looked at Pidge with bright eyes, and her heart temporarily forgot its rhythm. “I’d love that, Sir.”

* * *

“I know,” Matt assured with a chuckle. “But that accidental thing showed us that you specialized in your own field, too. In building connections with people.

“Pidge—Katie has never been good at making friends. I think only Allura was stubborn enough to get through to her, and it took years. You changed that. You helped my sister expand her world. Now, you mean the world to her.” He directed a kind smile slightly to the left. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you are her world.”

His eyes softened, then he stood from his seat, opening his arms. After a few moments, Lance appeared on-screen to return the hug. The sight brought fresh tears to Pidge’s eyes.

“I leave her in your care, brother,” Matt said. “She’ll probably argue that she can take care of herself. She’s right about that, but it’s still reassuring to know she’s in good hands either way.”

Lance sniffled twice before replying, “Thank you, brother.”

Matt clapped Lance’s back. “No problem. Now let’s look for tissues before the staff suspect you’re infecting me with colds.”

They both snickered.

When the video switched to her parents’ smiling faces, Pidge’s hands became damp with sweat and her heart began to pound. She knew they’d already given Lance their blessing, seeing as this video existed, but this would be the first time she’d be hearing what they thought about her relationship with Lance.

The first thing she noticed was their clothes. They were wearing the unexpectedly awesome sweaters Lance’s grandmother had knitted for them last Christmas. A lump formed in her throat at the realization; she had to lower her voice so she could still speak with words instead of inarticulate sobs.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked, eyes not straying from the screen.

“A while,” Lance answered just as quietly.

“Congratulations on your graduation, Katie,” Mom greeted.

“We’re so proud of you, Katie. So proud,” Dad added.

“You must have figured out what this video is really for by now,” Mom continued, to which Dad nodded.

“You must have deduced that we’ve given our blessing as well.”

“All that’s left for us to do is endorse this young man…” At Mom’s cue, Lance peeked from the corner of the screen and waved. “…to you.” Pidge glimpsed the obvious signs of nervousness on his face. It carried over to her as she waited for her parents’ “endorsement” of Lance.

“Lance came from a completely different background from us. He didn’t know anything about astrophysics, molecular biology, or computer engineering more than any other layperson did.” Pidge winced at Mom’s knowing smirk. “Don’t try to deny it, young lady; we know you two planned out what he would be talking about with us the first time he came over.”

Dad chuckled. “Lance hadn’t always been able to keep up with our discussions, but he was always willing to learn. He strived to see things from your perspective and understand you better. I’ve never seen you more patient than when you would explain a concept to him, Katie.” He glanced at Lance. “I’ve never seen a more receptive student, either.”

He redirected his gaze to the camera, smiling gently at Pidge. “You told him about the universe, showed how galaxies worked, demonstrated gravitational forces, and explained why the sun, moon, and stars existed. I hope you wouldn’t wonder too much how he realized he has fallen into orbit around you.”

Lance’s hand slipped into hers as the video faded out. Pidge felt something press onto her palm. She felt a ring press onto her palm, and she almost started crying again. Instead, she took a deep, shaky breath to calm the tumult of emotions within her. Lance remained patiently quiet by her side. They watched the flock of graduates and guests in front of them in the meantime, the cacophony of congratulations and goodbyes and promises to keep in touch filling the silence between them.

“You’re not getting down on one knee?” she teased eventually, once she was confident enough to speak.

“I could,” he replied, “but do you want me to?”

“No, actually.”

“Thought so.” She could hear the mirth in his voice. The sound calmed her down further.

“Everybody won’t be satisfied with anything less than showy, though.”

He hummed in thought. “I’ll consider it.”

“Maybe they’ll even make you do something Matt and Shiro will see from space.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It all depends on your answer.”

She turned towards him, willing him to meet her eyes. “You already know my answer.”

When he did, she was struck anew by how his eyes shone with everything he didn’t need to tell her out loud, and how they regarded her with understanding, and how absolutely, breathlessly beautiful they were. “I want to hear it anyway.” Like the hue of a clear day. Like the shade of a calm sea. Like the color of love. “Will you marry me, Pidge?”

Pidge twined her fingers around Lance’s, beaming up at him. “You know I will, Lance.”

[landeg]

31 Days of Apex: A Retrospection

I participated in the incredible #31DaysOfApex challenge hosted on Twitter, where fans created new content for every day of July based on a one-word prompt. I’ve signed up for/started lots of similar challenges in the past but always ended up having to drop out or trail off before the end... but this time, I managed to complete something for every day of the challenge!

My only goal was to make something by each day’s deadline, and it was a really interesting exercise both in technical skill and also in my management of not only my time, but my expectations and energy. Below, I go into more detail behind each piece.

To preface; the beginning of this challenge coincided with the beginning of a new personal time-management exercise where, for 5/7 days a week, I would only go on the computer at night. Combined with the deadline, this had an interesting effect on my time management and the quality of certain pieces.

Day 1 - Memory

From the start, I wanted to use the challenge as an opportunity to do more studies and to push myself wherever possible. This was the first piece I did and I had more time to work on it, so I used it as a digital painting study. I still think it’s a strong piece and it’s probably my favourite of the month. Symbolically, this character’s backstory doesn’t match up with her own memories, so the idea is she’s missing information she can’t quite place or remember, and this both scares and comforts her.

Day 2 - Blood

Another digital painting and lighting study that didn’t work out as well as the first, mostly due to time constraints meaning I couldn’t scrap it and start again. While I don’t like how it turned out, I did learn a lot. The character on the right is a field medic, and my intent was to show the calm after a successful rescue.

Day 3 - Mercy

Some days I relied more on the humour of a piece’s concept than the skill of its execution, though I also liked how this piece turned out artistically. After two days of intense studies, though, this was very quick and easy for me to turn out as it relied on existing skills.

Day 4 - Prize

This one thankfully came together very quickly, which I credit to the two previous painting studies making it much easier to achieve what I wanted. The character is searching for the disembodied head of the man who killed her parents, who is now acting as a robot, hence the vaguely half-machine-half-human silhouette in her hand.

Day 5 - Family

Another quick, simple illustration under a time crunch. The character framed by the nameless foreground figures has no memory of herself or her family.

Day 6 - Noise

For some pieces where I was under a time crunch, I experimented in an opposite direction; instead of studies, I played loosely with different techniques/brushes/etc to see what came out. This was a lineless style I ended up employing a lot when short on time. The piece pictured here was just one of four alternate colourways, presented in a pop-art style. The character is almost always depicted with thick coverings over her ears, so I thought she might be sensitive to auditory overload. This particular piece was retweeted by the character’s voice actress!

Day 7 - Mask

More relying on humour for lack of time/a better idea. A fun experiment in colour, though.

Day 8 - Healing

Another technically “easy” piece but with a stronger concept. It was actually pretty hard to get the reflection & condensation elements balanced right. The character pictured has a narrative thread relating to an old ex he has trouble moving on from.

Day 9 - Weapon

While obviously another joke, and made to be finished quickly, it was surprisingly difficult to get the duct tape and knife to read clearly without over-cluttering the lineless image. This little ‘bot is a drone used by one of the playable characters to hack areas of the map; it’s not NORMALLY an offensive weapon. This image was promo’d in a video stream by the character’s voice actor!

Day 10 - Truth

I only had less than an hour to finish this one by the deadline, but I still tried to experiment with silhouette and colour. It was surprisingly hard to get the interior silhouette to be legible. The outer silhouette is a playable character (not easily readible unless you’re familiar with his design) and the inner silhouette is his sister, whose disappearance he is trying to investigate.

Day 11 - Shield

A fun, self-indulgent one. Had a blast simplifying the game’s characters down into little caricatures. The character in the centre has abilities related to shields and protection, so many other people were drawing him for the prompt; I wanted to try and flip it, so I picked other characters he would be friendly with, and picked a non-lethal, lighthearted setting.

Day 12 - Ruins

Short on time so did a quick lighting study. A recent game plot has changed one of the areas of the map, submerging it in water and leaving it to “ruin”.

Day 13 - Hero

Another painting study. Really didn’t like how this one turned out, but had to turn in something, and I did learn a lot in the process. If I’d had more time I probably would’ve scrapped it and started again. This characters had recently been revealed to have been manipulated by another character who used gas-based offenses, whom she admired.

Day 14 - Rest

I was going to be away from mt computer until after the deadline, so I decided to make a traditional piece. I ended up enjoying it so much I tried to take the time to do a few more traditional pieces later. This piece was sort of a comedy of errors; I had to do it while I was out, and the pen I had brought with me to ink my sketch ran out, so I had to make do with a blue ballpoint pen, and I was missing several colours of coloured pencil. I think the finished piece reflects how rushed it was, and it did’t meet my concept, but I do still like it.

Day 15 - Skull

Another quick one but I wanted to experiment with a different line style. Wanted a sort of “graffiti” effect. One of this character’s skins includes a skull-shaped mask.

Day 16 - Growth

Extremely quick play on words because I didn’t have the time to work on anything meaningful and couldn’t think of anything better!

Day 17 - Home

Another traditional piece, this time by choice and with more time. Markers. It looks extremely like some janky art school homework on 2 point perspective because it extremely is. Perspective and backgrounds are very difficult for me - they just don’t “click” - but I had a lot of fun with this one. I kept my mistakes intact because I didn’t want to edit it too much. A lot about the technical perspective is wrong, but I think I achieved the “mood” I wanted. This location is a bar owned by one of the player characters where many of the other characters are shown to meet.

Day 18 - Sky

Very happy with how this one turned out, even though there are still lots of problems. Markers again. There’s a lot I would fix next time, and I think technically it’s lacking, but there are some specific areas I feel happy to have achieved, such as the almost brushed texture of the curved metal above his shoulder and the values of the shadow/reflections on the underside of the head piece. I’m also happy with how I was able to draw from my shoulder rather than my wrist when inking the curved lines, something I struggle with.

Day 19 - Target

An experiment in pushing the lineless style I’d already been playing with for a stronger likeness. The pose and expression in this could both be pushed more but I like the result. This character had just learned that one of the other players, whom she had trusted, was actually sharing her secrets with her enemy, and she didn’t know which one it was.

Day 20 - Friendship

I had this one concepted from when I first looked over the prompts. It was a fun challenge trying to simplify all the elements into the lineless, blocky style while being legible. This character has a strained relationship with one of his friends, and finally pushed her too far with his selfishness, and she now no longer responds to him.

Day 21 - Scar

Quick joke. This character was introduced briefly as a red herring for another character before being killed off. He was stabbed through the chest by another character’s hand, hence the scar pattern.

Day 22 - Dream

I wasn’t sure about this one while I was making it but I ended up liking how it turned out. I wanted to capture the character’s robotic legs bent at an unnaturally straight 90 degrees, like a Barbie doll. The flat background and lighting make it feel like an indoor stage. The little “electric sheep” are inspired by iDogs.

Day 23 - Meal

After a few days of not having time to really spend on any piece, it was fun to get to spend time on concepting and composing this. I always admired these kinds of watercolour-like food illustrations and this is the first time I’ve had any success in creating one myself. I concepted and sketched out the individual items traditionally before working out the composition within the box digitally. Each food item/utensil is inspired by the different characters’ design elements. Only two of the now-current characters are excluded due to plot reasons. In particular, I like how one of the character’s dome-shaped shields acts as the base and cover of the box.

Day 24 - Hobby

Wasn’t a fan of how this one turned out. I think the likeness is a bit off, and his facial anatomy is skewed. But I also like how the general composition, tone, and bee turned out. This character’s concept art originally imagined them as a beekeeper who would use smoke to fight.

Day 25 - Fear

An incredibly rushed piece that I intended to go back in and add more detail to, similar to day 4, but I actually took a step back and decided I liked the blocky, flat-colour version. This character is the youngest of four, all of whom are MIA or worse, along with his father, and his mother is losing her memory. He’s talking to her through a handheld holographic device. This piece gained more traction, most likely thanks to the subject matter since this is a popular character.

Day 26 - Holiday

I didn’t want to do a religious holiday like Christmas or Easter. A lot of other people also interpreted the prompt as a vacation, but I had already done a sort of “beach vacation” piece for day 11, so I instead went for a “public holiday” and chose NYE/NYD. This was fairly quick but the lighting was an interesting experiment. I knew this one wouldn’t be as popular because it wasn’t as “flattering” but I personally really like it. The girl on the left is kind of goofy and completely un-self-conscious and I think it’s captured here.

Day 27 - Music

Really didn’t like how this one turned out. I don’t think the likeness is good at all, the lighting is poor, and the gold detailing feels lazy. But I liked other elements, such as the pose and the clothing.

Day 28 - Treasure

This is my least favourite of the entire month, but I also had the least time available to work on it before the deadline so I had no opportunity to scrap it and start over, which I sorely wanted to do. The likeness is terrible, but more than that the base anatomy is off, the pose is stiff, and the lighting/colours are cheap. I wish I could’ve done better by this character; but, I am glad I had something finished at all.

Day 29 - Skin

This was probably my third attempt at this picture and I’m still not happy with it, but again, I had to finish something. I almost considered scrapping the concept entirely and choosing something easier but ended up seeing it through. The concept itself is actually recycled from an older piece of mine for an entirely different fandom, because I didn’t think I did it justice then, either. Would still like to revisit this concept with this character and take more time.

Day 30 - Trust

After a few days of feeling really dissatisfied and uncomfortable with the art I’d been making, I finally more time to dedicate to a piece, and I’m overall happy with how this one turned out. I decided to go for a different medium entirely with pixel art, which also gave me the opportunity to try and animate it. I started off confident and then started to get worried towards the end, but all the elements came together when I added the portal colour effects. This is an alternate reality version of one of the player characters, who appears through a portal and allows that character to escape the facility she’s being kept in, encouraging them to trust the “voices” she hears which are actually versions of herself trying to help her. This piece was retweeted by the official Apex Legends Twitter account!

Day 31 - Freestyle

I had this planned out early in the challenge and I’m really, really happy with how it turned out. It’s probably tied with my favourite along with the very first piece (how fitting). I was worried about how I was going to capture the movement without over-complicating the lineart, having so many people in one image, etc. before I realised the focus was entirely on gesture, and then everything clicked. I went for a thicker brush, which forced me to conserve my lines, and tried to simplify each character down to the bare minimum needed to recognise them. They’re also all wearing new non-canonical outfits so I used their familiar colour schemes for the same purpose. It’s not perfect, but I love it, and it’s everything I’d hoped I’d be able to end the challenge on.

I really, really enjoyed the entire month and the way it tied in with my new time management schedule. It gave me some achievable short-term goals which added up to this long-term achievement I can now look back on; I learned a lot both about balancing my energy and about technical skills, I found ways to stay motivated, and most importantly I learned to not get caught up on the individual slip-ups and pieces I didn’t like as much and to instead focus on the bigger picture. Thank you to everyone involved in organising and supporting this event! I found so many other incredible fanartists, writers, and content creators through this challenge and I can’t wait to see the bonus content released over August!

[mysmedrabbles]

RFA Boys with Kids (Elementary School MC Works at Edition)

requested: by anonymous (with special request to make jumins the most prominent its not my fault for once guys!!!)

a/n: i think in 4th grade we had an astrologist come to our class and talk about the moon and stuff and he was terrifying cuz he sat on my desk the whole time but it was super cool and talked about the world imploding!!

if you want to support my fluff writing, buy me a coffee!

warnings: hhhh flüüf

-happy! mod alex

Jumin

-It was your guys’ 3 year anniversary, and Jumin insisted on picking you up directly after work, eager to spend every second of the next 96 hours with you, especially since you Insisted on going to work, unable to leave your precious second graders with a substitute, especially not on the last day before spring break!!!

-he’d always avoided going to your school, not because he hated kids he just... feared them.

-yes, Jumin Han, director of C+R Internationals only fear was jam-handed children. dont get me wrong, it wants a fear as in “run away screaming,” more he was afraid that anyone under the age of 10 would be intimidated and cry when he spoke. the rfa already made enough fun of him, he didn't need more rejection in his life

-sadly (for him, luckily for us), he forgot the time you got out of school, ending upside your classroom about two hours earlier

-he stops dead in his tracks, hand stopped midway to a knock as a bouquet of roses hid behind his back as he looks at the 20 or so 7 year olds staring at him with bright questioning eyes

-he tries to escape and back out of the class before you notice him, but you immediately see him, face lighting up as you bound towards him happily, throwing your arms around him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling him into the class, introducing him as your husband 

-a part of him likes that, the idea of not having to be “CEO” or “Mr. Han,” simply your husband

-he’s fairly awkward especially seeing as he’s so tall compare to these little Jam-Handed Monsters?? ... maybe they weren’t monsters... they were kind of cute actually...

-when you take out all the flowers from the bouquet, giving each student a flower instead, he can feel his heart melting, the first smile forming at the corners of his mouth as he sees you so bright and happy, and the way you rect upon seeing the kids own smiles

- “Everyone say Thank You Mr. Han!”     followed by a chorus of “Thank you Mr.Han!!!)

-he wants to protect all these kids from all the bad in the world

-luckily, he came in time for story time, and after you slyly suggest him being the other reader, the expectant and loud children agreeing with you made him do it, doing silly cartoon voices for the characters he portrayed

-Jumin sitting on the Elementary School Rug, the one with the alphabet and boxed colours on it where everyone should sit, his expensive $700 suit wrinkling as he tries his best to kneel down and be to the kids level

-theyre not as scary as he thought! and every time he saw them really... it filled him with a sense of protectiveness he didn’t know he had for anyone outside of his immediate family 

- “MC... lets start a family together” 

Yoosung

-he came over for career day! being a successful vet straight out of college took skills, hence the idea that he come around to the school

-he’s really sweet with the kids, and laughs awkwardly when they ask about his and your relationship, getting flustered and immediately switching the topic to something cute Lisa did

-he can’t spend a lot of time with them because he has to get back to the office, but he also doesn’t spend a lot of time on lecturing them on his job, opting to do some colouring pages with them instead

-shy bean, he’s not necessarily the one to jump into action with them, (lets be honest, second graders are terrifying), but the class likes him, and sometimes he brings Lisa around, which blows their minds

-he’s kind, and being in the presence of Lisa he suddenly becomes so comfortable, smile forming on his face as he teaches a particularly curious girl how to properly respect a cats space, violet eyes brightening up immediately with pure joy

-supportive, and bb kit doesn’t seem to mind, even getting comfortable on some of the kids backpacks

-they all love his white lab coat, and take turns trying it on

-he almost dies of cute overload when on boy holds up his arms proudly, letting the (way too large) sleeves of the coat drop to the floor as he grins widely 

Seven

-volunteers for Everything

-field trip in need of chaperones? special school events need volunteers? kids birthdays? he’s there for all of them no matter what

-he loves being present with them, a part of him feeling healed as he gets to have a glimpse of a childhood he never had, the future he would want his children to have some day

-no matter how silly it may seem, he’s the type to sit with a crying kid until theyre smiling and feeling better, telling the child little jokes and stories until they feel better, making sure to listen to their issue and support them, making sure that they know that their feelings are valid.

-everyone loves Seven in your class! he’s become a cryptid in the school, as the only people that ever actually see him is your class, and no one in the other classes is going to believe the story that theres a red-headed man with funky glasses bringing cupcakes for everyone 

-he tells the most embarrassing stories about you to the kids, reveling in your embarrassment 

-he gets more sad than anyone else when the school year is over, having gotten very attached to your class, where he almost cries as he wishes them a good summer

Zen

-the first time he visited your school was when you’d forgotten your lunch at home, only dropping a sweet hello to the class as he rushes to work

-he doesn’t initially has plans to come back, but a certain few students had become completely enraptured by Zens presence, and wanted to know when the “pretty weird eyed man” would be back

-he loves coming to your school, always conducting fun sing-a-longs as 20 or so 7 year olds gather around him

-having him in the class is more of a disruption, someone who’s fun to hang out with and with him, you know that no one’s going to be doing any work no matter what you say

-more than anything, he loves how the two of you will team up to help a students problem, and sometimes,, if he blocks out the rest of the world... he can imagine that that’s your child

-he’s got insane paternal instincts, and Will Not Stand For anyone getting hurt

-being at the school and seeing you at work and being around children.. really makes him crave that sense of family, building a family with you, the love of his life and being,,, well, happy.

-he lets the children play with and braid his hair, letting them even put flowers in it if they want

-a big ole softie, just wants to know everyone is happy

[cncoh-damn]

Director AU

In which (Y/N) is an aspiring director/producer whose mother and father are a director and producer respectively. And did we mention that they own what’s possibly the biggest production company on the planet?

General Headcanons:

you’ve got a squad of your own, and the ages are practically identical with the guys’ ages. except for the part where you’re born in 2000 and not 2001, unlike Erick. and your squad has twins, they don’t.

each member of your group has like this persona that everyone associates with said member.

the oldest of your group is Elodie Bauer, who isn’t really the most mature person, but damn if she can’t throw a party. it’s kind of why everyone calls her the Party Animal. 

then there are the twins, Kiana and Kiara Mirren, whose parents just so happen to own the biggest talent agency in the Western hemisphere. between the two of them, Kiara is much more quiet and demure, though she has a reputation for being unpredictable, hence her reputation as the Wildcard. unlike her twin, Kiana is a creature of habit, and one of them includes being the mom friend. for a while, you all considered referring her to as such, but it didn't quite sit right. Sweetheart, on the other hand, did.

the second youngest is Alexandria Roxas, a half-Filipino whose family belongs to a successful line of celebrity entrepreneurs. with her flair for the dramatics, everyone took to calling her Drama Queen, something she takes as a compliment despite the obvious negative connotations.

finally, there’s you, (Y/N) (L/N), and your parents own a production company known for hugely successful films, be they foreign or not. as you aspire to be a producer and director, you picked up quite a few tricks, especially in editing, but this isn’t where your greatest asset lies. despite being the youngest of your group, your professionalism and maturity are second to no one in your age range, earning you the title of Girlboss.

How You Met:

you first met the guys on the set of Reggaeton Lento Remix, when Jade came over to meet them while they (CNCO) shot their parts of the music video.

honestly you were just there to grab the footage so you could start editing

but then they weren’t done yet so you just went to a corner and started editing the footage you did have

like after you introduced yourself to them, the director told you that they weren’t done filming so you just went  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ before plopping down in a corner

the guys were kinda weirded out/intimidated bc you sounded hella professional even if you looked like you were Erick’s age

but it lowkey didn’t stop Chris and Erick from tossing a few flirty comments your way

and then when they were done you introduced yourself again but in a nicer and chiller way

Before: “(Y/N) (L/N), I’ll be editing the video and splicing the footage together.”

After: “Hi, I’m (Y/N), and I’m really excited to work with you guys!”

the difference was staggering

plus you wound up as a translator of sorts that day because GOOD LORD JADE’S ACCENT IS DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND EVEN IF YOUR FIRST LANGUAGE IS ENGLISH

not that you minded, you had a Spanish test the next day and it really brushed up your skills so yaaaaaayyyy

still, they were all kinda shookt af when they found out you were just a year older than Erick

Jade: Yeah, she’s a lot more machuad (y’all know this is how she pronounces matured lmao) than most kids her age.

Relationships With Them:

Christopher Velez:

ooh boi

first time you met, you literally didn’t believe he was the oldest

Chris thought you were vvvvvv cute, let’s just get that out of the way

and he flirted with you a lil bit

but you didn't notice bc you were editing

BUT you did give him a random compliment

like you looked up and he was fixing his hair

and then you said "Su pelo se ve bien" in accented asf Spanish and he was shookt

but he appreciated the compliment

and then you went back to editing before he could strike up a conversation whoops

but then y'all went to dinner and ofc you tagged along, and even if his English wasn't as good as Joel's or Richard's, he understood enough to know when you exposed someone

and he's like "damn mami is savage"

tl;dr: You're oblivious to his flirting but he's a fan of how savage you can get.

much later, you two become close bc you wind up laughing at Erick's jokes at the exact same time

Richard Camacho:

like with Chris, you didn't notice him much bc you were editing

but you managed to hold a minute-long conversation with him bc they were on break and you didn't know where the bathroom was

plus he was the first one you saw (and ngl, you were more comfortable speaking to him bc you’re both short)

so you shuffled up to him and was like “Um, sorry to bother you but... Where’s the bathroom?”

RICHUKI WAS SHOOK

the difference was, as said before, pretty shocking

total 180 degree turn from mature and professional to awkward and smol

he gave you directions ofc and internally you were like phew he speaks English bc it’d be awkward af on your part if you had to repeat it in Spanish

so during dinner you wound up sitting across him

and you have this habit of swinging your legs a little when bored, so you might’ve accidentally kicked him a bit

when you noticed that, you apologized a lot. like you even offered some of your dessert bc you didn’t want him to be offended

I feel like he wouldn’t take it personally tbh

later on, when y’all get to know each other a bit more, he kind of becomes your main bro figure. not brother figure, because that’s Zabdiel, but bro figure.

and sometimes, if you’re in the same area, you end up babysitting Aaliyah

you’re a good bro, he’s a good bro

why else would you constantly call each other out on your bullshit

Zabdiel de Jesus

deadass the first time you saw him you were like oh shit

not that anyone can blame you, he’s tall asf and you’re tiny

for a good while you didn’t really talk to him

until Jade roped you into a conversation she was having with him, Joel, and Erick

internally you just sigh. socializing. niceee.

note the sarcasm

ANYWAY, when Joel gets a call, he leaves right? so Zabdiel and Erick are stuck there and from the looks on their faces you can kinda tell they don’t understand what Jade’s saying

so you scoot a little closer to them and hope your Spanish isn’t as bad as you thought it was bc you explained what she was saying

(Y/N) (L/N): video editor, aspiring director, now part-time interpreter

not that you were complaining ofc, it’s like studying for a test!

anyway after that you kinda stuck with them for a bit if only to help them understand what Jade was saying

you might have bumped into Zabdiel a couple of times

and that’s when you learned he’s actually a bit of a gentle giant

so yaaaayyyy

tbh you thought he was the oldest; he seemed the most mature of them

he’s definitely the first one outside of your own squad that you contact when you need help

he’s brotherly like that

gives great advice to you

and you lend a listening ear when he needs to let off some steam so it’s a symbiotic relationship you two have

Joel Pimentel:

honestly, your relationship with him can be described with one phrase: sass-offs.

but it wasn’t like that in the beginning

you and Joelito were pretty shy towards one another

UNTIL he saw you going through puppy pictures while you waited for the footage to render

and then you two talked/fawned over puppies in your corner

damn he spent most of his break there

so when Jade roped you into the conversation you didn’t really feel too awkward

but when Joel left the awkwardness came back

it was a pleasant surprise for you and him that you managed to get comfortable with Erick and Zabdiel, even if you were on translator duty that time

bear in mind that at this point both of you thought the other was a little cinnamon roll

but when dinner rolled around, he had to reevaluate his opinion of you because goddamn you didn’t hold back

every time you were about to spill the tea or roast someone, you would calmly sip your iced tea before speaking

sometimes the tea wasn’t the shocking bit, it was the way you said it

something in his mind just clicked and went oh when you first did that

needless to say, he showed a bit of sass too and you were living for it

SASS BUDDIES

it’s terrifying when both of you are on Twitter at the same time

think Joel’s sass but doubled and more subtle

that’s you

it’s gotten to the point that the rest of the guys try to keep you and Joel from being on Twitter at the same time

but nah, they can’t keep you two apart for long. platonically ofc

Erick Brian Colon:

you’re both the babies of your respective groups and that’s something you’re quick to tell him

so you two kinda bond over that, but not too much just yet

one of the first things you tell him is “Nice bowling skills” as a reference to the music video for Reggaeton Lento

yes bitch, you watched all their previous music videos to get a feel of sorts for the aesthetic they match for their music

while you’re lowkey gloating at how there’s finally someone on set who’s younger than you, Erick might’ve already been developing a tiny crush. on you.

but you’re a.) oblivious and b.) busy editing the video so you don’t notice

poor Erick

needless to say, he tosses flirty comments your way more than anyone else

but it doesn’t quite catch your attention.

what does, however, are his jokes.

yep. you don’t know enough Spanish to get a perfect score on your tests (yet) but you know enough to understand his shitty jokes.

Erick probably had heart eyes when you laughed at his joke

and that, ladies and gents, is where your friendship with Christopher Velez and Erick Brian Colon began

even if Erick still had a crush on you.

After y’all finish eating dinner, you grab the footage and fly back to LA because you had classes the next day. Friday of that week is when you contact Clara to set up a meeting because you’ll be done editing it Monday next week.

It’s a vid conference with CNCO and Little Mix where you send the video to them and let them watch it while you wait for their opinions. They all love it, of course, but the girls have worked with you before and know what you did.

Perrie: How much sleep did you get?

You, mildly sweating: Uh, eight hours.

You: In the past three days.

And that’s how Little Mix exposed your nonexistent sleeping habits in front of the guys.

[hydrus]

Version 409

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.gz

source

tar.gz

I had a great week fixing some bugs and optimising the new tag siblings cache. The new code works much faster now.

siblings

I am very happy that there do not seem to have been any obvious errors with the new sibling database cache. Unfortunately, a couple of areas were working inefficiently, which IRL testing helped to diagnose. I put a lot of time into this this week and was very successful - some sections take 10% less time, some 90%, and one critical query now takes 99% less time. It depends on many factors, but many things are faster overall. In particular, tag processing speed, which took a real hit, is back up to good speed, and setting new tag sibling application rules now only needs to regenerate for ''changed'' siblings, so if you add (or remove) your own five 'my tags' siblings onto the PTR, the client now only has to do two seconds of work, not ten minutes.

I made some progress on the final awkward things to migrate. Most autocomplete results you see are now able to give themselves the 'will display as xxx' label when needed and match against sibling input (e.g. having an input of 'lotr' match 'series:lord of the rings' due to siblings) on their own, which should save some CPU time when typing. There is still more to do, so I'll keep hammering at it for the next two weeks and see if I can get rid of 'loading tag siblings' on boot before I start on parents db cache.

If you have been waiting for faster code before you update, you might want to wait another week. I just did a test re-do of the 407->408 update step in IRL conditions, and it was not as fast as I wanted it. I'll keep pushing at this.

I am increasingly looking forward to doing that parents db cache, which will extend this work in a new dimension. That will be v412, which I am very confident will be another two-week release. This is some of the most intricate work I have done.

full list

siblings:

the slowest of the new sibling regen & update code has received a full optimisation pass. some sections take 10% less time, some 90%, and one critical query takes 99% less time. overall, several big jobs work much faster, and ptr processing, which slowed significantly for many users, should be back up to a good speed. uploading pending tags (which tend to be for local files) should be much faster in particular. let's do another round of IRL observation and profiling this week, and I'll keep at it

the various 'display' regeneration routines now provide more progress status text, drilling down to the x/y siblings being collapse-counted, or number of files added to a cache, and generally all tag sibling regen got a status update polish pass

optimised the way tag sibling application is set--now, only the tag siblings that are changed need to have their counts regenerated. hence, if you just apply (or remove) your own five 'my tags' siblings onto the PTR, the client now only has to do two seconds of work, not ten minutes

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the rest:

fixed the annoying issue with media viewer mouseovers stealing focus/activation from the manage tags dialog. this can now only happen if current focus is on a hover window. sorry for the delay!

updated manage tag parents dialog to state the pairs being petitioned on the 'petition reason entry' dialog

updated manage tag parents and siblings dialogs to have appropriate 'reason' suggestions for petitions (previously, they were inheriting the same suggestions as for add)

ipfs network jobs now have a minimum 'reply' connection timeout of two hours (so giganto directory pushes won't throw an error). connection timeout remains the same, so if the server is hanging on that, it'll still notice

fixed the 'test address' button on the IPFS manage services panel

petitioning an IPFS file when there is no IPFS multihash entry in the db no longer causes an error. now, in this case, the file entry is removed with no change made.

when pending to or petitioning from a file service, a quick filter is now applied to discard invalid files (i.e. (not) already in the service). any weird logical holes where this might occur should now be fixed

export folders now catch and report missing file errors more nicely

export folders now remember the last error they encountered and report that in the edit export folders dialog

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boring tag siblings optimisations:

optimised the tag manager generation routine to use any common file domains for fast cache lookup for any subset of the files available, rather than falling back to 'all known files' domain when there is no single common file domain

optimised the new 'all known files' display autocomplete cache to use similar faster specific files cache lookups when available

optimised how the 'all known files' display cache regenerates tag sibling chains. it now takes a shortcut when given non-sibling tags and tags where all but one sibling member have zero count, and it can count current and pending counts separately according to the most efficient counting method (e.g. most pre-display pending counts are 0 across the board, so even if current count is a million, the pending count can often be assumed without lookup overhead). furthermore, the 'clever' count has better query planning and less non-sqlite data overhead, and with experimental data is now chosen more carefully. what was previously a 22s job on a test database now takes 5s

deduplicated how new mappings are filtered to all the specific cache domains, significantly reducing overhead

massively optimised a critical - and the slowest - part of the new 'combined' cache that handles add/pend mappings pre-insert presence testing, speeding up the core query about 100x!

reduced some overhead when doing file service_id normalisation in repository processing

split up specific chain regen into groups to reduce memory usage

optimised specific display tag cache 'add file' updates, and thereby basic cache regeneration, to be just a little faster for files that have multiple sibling tags

all predicates made in the database are now populated with ideal and chain sibling information, and this is used for '(will display as xxx)' labels and autocomplete tag search filtering (e.g. you type in 'lotr', it matches an autocomplete result of 'lord of the rings'). there are still some ui-made predicates to figure out, so the old system remains as a fallback

related tags lookup is a tiny bit faster and now populates its predicates with ideal and chain sibling info at the db level

cleaned up some 'fetch related tags' code, might make it a bit faster for large tag counts

cleaned up the way some mapping tables are fetched

unified table/table_name nomenclature in the db code

updated an old data->ui status presentation method (it typically does stuff like "regenning some stuff: 500/10,000"), to not hog so much UI time and not yield worker threads so often when new statuses are coming in real fast

several late optimisations based on IRL testing

next week

Next week would normally be 'cleanup', but all the optimisation I did here kind of counts as that, so I'll make sure to do some small jobs, just so I am not neglecting other things. Github issues and other non-sibling work.