#his performane was great though

[hotcocokiss]

i watched the whale and the only happiness it left me with was knowing i supported brendan fraser.

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[steveskafte]

LAST WORDS BEFORE LEAVING If you've followed my work for any amount of time, then you know my great love and affinity for songwriters. In wild lives spent pouring their hearts out, I've seen a few still find something meaningful to share straight through to the end. That final, brilliant burnout of an artistic life is a powerful experience, songs released so near to the death of the voices that made them. The first (and youngest to die) among these is probably the man who influenced my writing the most. Mickey Newbury was most famous as the songwriter of "Just Dropped In", a hit for Kenny Rogers in 1968. Even though he had little success with recording his own songs, he sang with far more heartfelt expression than anyone who covered them. But his studio albums were somewhat over-produced, drowned in a lot of string arrangements that tended to take the edge off. In the mid-90s, after some years away from regular recording, Mickey Newbury finally released a deeply honest recording of his work – a live album called: "Nights When I Am Sane". There are performances on it that carry more emotion than I've heard from any artist, especially "Four Ladies". For the final decade of his life, he suffered with pulmonary fibrosis, which had a significant effect on his lungs and ability to sing. "Help Me, Son" is an intensely dark, yet strangely hopeful exploration of fragility and reliance on others. Spoken as much as sung, there's a weariness in it that feels like a heavy blanket in winter. Warm and weighty, but with a threat all around. He died on September 29, 2002 at the age of 62. This song was released posthumously in 2003, on his album: "Blue to This Day". Mickey Newbury - Help Me, Son youtube.com/watch?v=SFi9KnX4aDo ~ ~ ~ It would be somewhat self-important for me to attempt any sort of biography of Johnny Cash, one of the single most influential and well-documented songwriters of the 20th century. So I'll set that aside, assuming you know his basic story. It was right when his life was ending that I was first getting into music, so I heard the old man right alongside the young one. It never occurred to me to mark any real division or preference between the two – and if anything, I was more drawn to the last, wheezing breaths that carried so much depth. "Like the 309" was the final song that Johnny Cash wrote. Just something aching with feeling, I can't hardly hear it with getting overrun with emotion. Waiting on a train to rush off into somewhere, either known or unknown. He died on September 12, 2003 at the age of 71. This song was released posthumously in 2006, on his album: "American V: A Hundred Highways". Johnny Cash - Like the 309 youtube.com/watch?v=a-4zdfQGDP4 ~ ~ ~ The career of Jack Hardy was a very long and rather obscure one, unless you're familiar with the folk singer-songwriter scene in New York. In the late 1960s, he achieved the dubious honour of being the only person ever convinced of libel on a U.S. president – for a rude cartoon he published of Richard Nixon. After that misadventure, Jack had a very prolific career as a musician, releasing an album every couple years from 1971 until his death. All through those decades, he hosted a weekly meeting in his apartment where everyone could share their latest work to somewhat friendly criticism. He was known for cutting everyone to the point, saying "shut up and sing" if an introduction ran too long. That emotional economy was key to the man, with a raspy voice and a straightforward expression in everything he recorded. "Rust Belt Town" was likely the last song he wrote, or very nearly if not. It's one of the most honestly angry and sarcastic performances I've seen, in the disaffected voice of someone watching their factory town crumble. Jack Hardy was suffering with lung cancer at the time, and that's likely present in his voice, which already wasn't pretty by any stretch. He died on March 11, 2011, at the age of 63. This song was never released, and the live performance was recorded not long before his death in November 2010. Jack Hardy - Rust Belt Town youtube.com/watch?v=rZZ45qvV4CU ~ ~ ~ Now, we're stumbling back into someone famous. David Bowie was a dozen different things in his life, as a man or musician. He certainly influenced my writing in the early days, when I was just learning to tread that incredible line between absurdity and sense, and holding your heart up like strange stained glass to the light. As old rock star heroes lose their youth, most folks look away. But what he did towards the end was just as likely to move me. "The Next Day", his album from 2013, probably reaches me more consistently than anything back through his career. Fame can be this dizzying thing, too high and wild to see the human. Coming down from that can feel more real. "Lazarus" is certainly the most fitting song I could imagine about death, hope, and resurrection. It's terrifyingly personal, deeply felt, without restraint. I cry every time I hear it, and likely always will. I owe a lot to David Bowie for how I'm compelled to put words together, and I'm glad he left it like this. He died on January 10, 2016 at the age of 69. This song was released just two days earlier, on his album: "Blackstar". David Bowie - Lazarus youtube.com/watch?v=y-JqH1M4Ya8 ~ ~ ~ I said to my wife the other day that I knew of no one who tried more ways to be happy than Leonard Cohen. From a long string of relationships, through a whole lot of religions and ways of thinking, reading about his life is observing a protracted inner struggle. That's probably the biggest barrier to appreciating his music, and why most folks have no knowledge of him beyond covers of "Hallelujah" – one of the most famous songs ever written. I've not a huge fan of his voice, he was never much of a singer, but he often had a grasp of poetry that was full of power. Recklessly cold tracks like "Avalanche" or "Nevermind", strangely hopeful tunes like "Democracy" and "Waiting for the Miracle", or the dark, storied sadness of "Chelsea Hotel #2" and "Famous Blue Raincoat". In any case, it's the end that brings me back. Outliving all the others I've mentioned before, Leonard Cohen by this point had surrendered even the attempt to sing. "You Want It Darker" is more of a rhythmically recited poem. So primary to his work for five decades straight, unrelenting shadows tempered by an irrepressible temptation to hope. I feel it too. He died on November 7, 2016 at the age of 82. This song was released only two weeks earlier, on his album of the same name. Leonard Cohen - You Want It Darker youtube.com/watch?v=YD6fvzGIBfQ ~ ~ ~ October 6, 2022 Kings County, Nova Scotia Year 15, Day 5443 of my daily journal.

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Bokuto Koutaro

Previously:  Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro. Tsukkishima Kei

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 4.1k

Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Angst, Hogwarts AU, Bokuto / Reader

Summary: Tutoring Bokuto Kotaro in Charms seems like a waste of your time. But then you get to know the Hufflepuff seeker, and start looking forward to your tutoring sessions with him.  

A/N: Comments as always, are much welcomed. Feel free to shout at me anytime!

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“I’m Bokuto!”

You stare coldly at the large hand shoved into your face. “Yes, I know. And so?” You arch an eyebrow and let your question linger awkwardly in the air. Surprisingly, even that fails to  dampen the brightness of the grin on his face, despite the fact that any other student would have turned tail and run at being on the receiving end of the resident Ice Queen of Slytherin’s glares. 

Your Charms professor coughs into his hand. “Ah. Yes. Bokuto requires some tutoring assistance, and I thought you’d be the right person to help out.”

You open your mouth in protest, but clamps it shut at the look of warning the professor shoots at you. It’s your bad luck you got caught sneaking books out of the restricted section of the library, it wasn’t as if the books you had your eye on contained dark magic in any case, they  just contained spells deemed too dangerous for idiots like the one standing before you to even attempt. And instead of detention for a month, your Charms Professor who’s always had a soft spot for you suggested you divert your free time to tutoring struggling students instead. 

“Fine”, you snap before turning to the boy. “You better not be as bad as Ushijima - Merlin only knows he was as dumb as a bag of bricks”. 

Bokuto agrees to meet you every Tuesday in an unused classroom for Charms tutoring. You do not care that he seems to wilt ever so slightly at the insults you lob at his Hufflepuff teammate - you have no time to suffer fools, after all. 

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Unfortunately, while Bokuto doesn’t take everything as literally as Ushijima (it was a problem you faced when you tutored the stone faced boy, especially for a subject requiring as much personal flair as Charms), he struggles with the precise motions and pronunciation needed for Charm incantations, and you’re losing your patience with him after he messes up Aguamenti for the tenth time today. 

“You need to move your wand like a wave of water before pointing it sharply - like you’re shooting a jet of water into a glass”, you repeat yourself in exasperation. 

He tries his best, waving his wand exaggeratedly but forgets the emphasis on the second syllable, so his wand remains completely dry. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. “Look - it’s really not that hard. If you remembered all the notes I gave you about this charm, you’d have gotten it by now. Merlin - what’s wrong with you dumb Quidditch Players?” 

“It’s not that easy to remember everything when you keep calling me dumb all the time”, Bokuto mutters, resentment colouring his tone. 

Your shock that Bokuto - the human embodiment of a sunbeam, seems to have abandoned his usual cheerfulness for an uncharacteristically stormy expression, quickly morphs into annoyance that he has the temerity to get short with you considering you’re the one that’s been forced to give up her Tuesday evenings in an attempt to get him to pass his Charms exams. 

“That’s because you ARE dumb”, you retort coolly. “Try casting the charm again”. 

He shocks you again by gathering his things and walking out of the classroom. 

“Where are you going?”, you call after him, confused. Even Ushijima put up with your insults and snide remarks for an entire term, but Bokuto doesn’t even look back.  

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Bokuto doesn’t turn up next week either despite struggling in class with the very charm you spent hours trying to hammer into his head. Nor the week after that. Midterms come and go, and you overhear from a group of his twittering fangirls in the bathroom that his spot on the Quidditch team is on the line after failing his Charms exam as expected. 

Guilt gnaws at you. Strange, since you assumed your heart is practically a block of ice by now. 

You spend days trying to corner him to no avail. You always knew he had plenty of friends, but you didn’t realise how popular he actually was. He’s constantly surrounded by his teammates - or even other Quidditch players like Kuroo from Slytherin, or Hinata from Gryffindor, and his childhood best friend Akaashi follows him like a shadow despite being from Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff. 

So you bide your time and wait until he finishes Quidditch practice, whispering from the shadows “Diffindo” to sever the straps of his bag. Your plan works - Bokuto cheerfully waves his teammates to go on without him, and the horde of hungry Hufflepuff Quidditch players head off to the Great Hall for dinner. 

“Why haven’t you come back for tutoring sessions?” You try to sharpen your question into an accusation, but your guilt makes you falter midway and you just sound bewildered instead. 

Your bewilderment is mirrored in Bokuto’s eyes. “Huh?” he frowns. “I thought you didn’t want to tutor me in the first place, so I asked my friends to help me out instead.”

You snort, tapping your foot. “Akaashi’s a year below, so I doubt he’s much help, and Kuroo’s much better at potions than at charms. And I hear you’re going to get kicked off the team if you don’t pull up your Charms grades in the remedial exams before Christmas.” 

The furrow between his brows deepens. “Why do you care if I’m failing my exams?” 

You’re not accustomed to dealing with someone so straightforward and genuine and innocent. You’re used to conniving serpents like Oikawa and Daishou who would have no hesitation hiding daggers in their sleeves just to get ahead, so the fact that his question is honest floods your belly with guilt.

“Because I feel bad for calling you dumb.” You decide to honour his honesty with a straight answer. “Do you still want me to tutor you if I promise to be nice?” 

Any shadow of lingering guilt is chased away by the sheer sunniness of his smile. 

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The ice in your heart starts to thaw in the face of his exuberance and friendliness. 

“You’re much nicer than people say you are”, he tells you one day with blunt honesty. “Why don’t you have more friends?”

You shrug, accustomed to the title that your peers have chosen to label you with. The Ice Queen of Slytherin, your housemates whisper behind your back after you slash Miya Atsumu’s robes in your second year, leaving him standing in nothing but his underwear after he pulled your bra strap on a dare. 

Your mother and older sisters taught you self-defense charms even before you entered Hogwarts, and you have no qualms about using them, even against one of the most popular boys in your house. But it proves to be a miscalculation - one that leaves you with few friends other than those who’ve known you since your childhood. 

“I don’t need friends”, you say, words frigid. 

He grins at you, undeterred. “I’ll be your friend!” He declares, leaning forward, balancing his chair precariously on two legs. 

“I’d be happier if you pass your exam”, you tell him dismissively, though there’s an amused curl at the corner of your lips. 

True to his word, Bokuto drags Akaashi over to the Slytherin table during dinner the very next day. You startle as he plops into the empty seat across you, Akaashi giving you a slight nod of acknowledgement that’s also tinged with an unspoken ‘sorry you have to put up with my overly excitable best friend these days’ that you snort at. 

Kuroo rounds up the trio, and between his and Bokuto’s bickering over who’s getting the best pickings from the meat dishes on the table, and Akaashi’s admonishments not to cause a ruckus that fall on deaf ears, you’re so entertained that you laugh aloud, though you wince internally when half the Slytherin table snaps their heads around to stare at you, dumbfounded. 

Miya Osamu actually looks up from his katsudon to elbow his brother. Miya Atsumu chokes on his food. 

You assume it was just a one-off event, Bokuto just trying to repay you with his kindness, but to your surprise, he’s back at least twice a week, and soon your lonely corner at the Slytherin table turns into the most boisterous ones. His very presence draws the most random assortment of people into his sphere - soon you’re joined by Tsukkishima, the quiet, stone faced Ravenclaw, Hinata, Bokuto’s self appointed protege and burgeoning sun in his own right, Sawamura, the stoic, steady Hufflepuff Keeper, on top of the usual suspects like Kuroo and Akaashi. 

Not everyone is as amused by this turn of events. 

“What’s he doing at our table?” 

“I heard he’s being tutored by the Ice Queen herself - maybe that’s why he’s here.” 

“That makes sense. Heard he’s really dumb.” 

You stiffen as you hear your classmates snigger. Bokuto wilts, even the ridiculous mop of hair on his head starts to droop. Kuroo and Akaashi wear twin expressions of murderous intent on their face and both start to rise, insults on their tongues when you whip out your wand, freezing your offending classmate’s lips to his glass. 

“Call him dumb one more time and I’ll freeze your balls to the bench”, you smile sweetly, poison in your words. 

Kuroo guffaws as you turn back to your conversation with them with a saccharine “now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” Akaashi snorts into his hands. 

Bokuto looks at you as if you’ve handed him the latest firebolt model on a gilded plate. You refuse to meet his eyes for the rest of the night. 

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You find that he responds far better to praise than negative reinforcement, bouncing around the classroom with such childlike enthusiasm whenever he succeeds in casting another new charm that it makes your lips tilt upwards. The combination of his Hufflepuff diligence and your renewed patience makes his performance in charms skyrocket, and soon, he’s improved enough for you to teach him the more fiddly, advanced charms. 

‘You have to flick your wrist lightly’, you tell him for the fifth time this evening. Ascendio is a difficult charm to master, even by your own standards, your own wrist already sore from the various rounds of demonstration. 

He tries to mirror your action. It doesn’t work. 

‘Um.’ You rack your brains, thinking of something, anything that might help. 

Ah.

‘You’ve got to move your whole arm like it’s the wing of a snitch. You know – keep the arm and wrist action light, like the flutter of wings.’

He furls his brow, trying to mirror your action again. It doesn’t work. This time, he pouts. 

Impatient, you grab his hand. ‘Look!’ You slap at his arm to get him to loosen up – seriously, what do they feed these quidditch players, taut muscles tensing beneath your fingers as you try to puppet his arm into an approximation of the wrist movement. He gazes down at you with wide eyes as you press your form against him. 

‘I’ll show it to you again. Ascendio’, you call, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, your feet lift off the ground, your skirt fluttering in the air. Then with a smooth swish of your wand, you descend to the ground, cocking your head to your student. ‘Come on, Bokuto, you’ve got to master it by the end of the night.’

He tries again and again to no avail. Charms is a far more creative branch of magic than transfiguration or even potions – and what works for one might not work for another. You recalibrate, trying to relate what you’re teaching to his true love - Quidditch. 

‘Maybe you could imitate the movement of a snitch about to take off once the whistle blows?’ 

 ‘A snitch?’ he laughs boisterously at your suggestion. ‘I could do that.’ 

He screws up his eyes tightly, his entire body falling still before he raises his arm. With a flick and swish, a hooted “Ascendio”, Bokuto floats up into the air.

“I did it!” He pumps his fists in the air, grinning down at you. Then with a smooth finite incantatem, he descends back to the grimy classroom floor. 

“Well done!” You laugh aloud, clapping your hands, so drunk with elation at his success that you don’t notice the sudden softness in his golden eyes. 

-----------------------------------------------

“Waiting for Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks. 

You hesitate for a beat, a pink tint to the apples of your cheeks before you nod without a word. 

“I’ll leave you two be then”, the Ravenclaw boy says, walking off with his hands tucked in his robes, a small smile flickering on his face. 

You exhale slowly through your nose. Maybe you should have left Akaashi to wait for Bokuto instead - they’re best friends, practically platonic soulmates you gather from Bokuto’s chatter as he walks you back to the Slytherin dungeons every Tuesday night, something he insists on despite your protests. You’re just his tutor - but here you are, hanging around outside the classroom where his remedial exam is being held, palms clammy in nervous anticipation. 

You tell yourself that you’re waiting for him because you can’t wait to know whether the tutoring sessions that take up your precious Tuesday evenings will end. You wonder if that means that he’ll stop coming over to hang out over dinner with you, the thought making your heart feel as if it’s frosted over again. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” His booming voice interrupts your reverie, and you glance up to see him burst out of the classroom, the joy on his face outshining even the sun. 

“You passed, I assume”, you snark, hands on hips, but he doesn’t even register your badly disguised coldness, grabbing by the waist to lift you easily into the air, spinning you in circles until you’re both giddy with delight. 

“I did, I did, thanks to you!” He crows, still clinging on to you like a lifeline. “They were so impressed when I cast Ascendio, and I was like swish, and they were like aughhh wahhhhh - and it was so awesome!” 

“I’m glad my effort paid off then, dummy”, you tease - seriously, it would make your housemates’ jaws drop if they caught you giggling, let alone being held aloft in Bokuto’s arms, but you’re just so happy for him that you don’t order him to put you down. 

He stills suddenly, and you’re worried that he’s taken offense at the affectionate nickname until you notice his eyes are trained at the arch above you and oh - 

Mistletoe. 

It’s Christmas, and the house elves have hung enchanted sprigs of mistletoe around the castle on the orders of the mischievous headmaster to prank unsuspecting students. Any student trapped under enchanted mistletoe may only be released upon giving or receiving a kiss, and you’re about to press a chaste kiss to Bokuto’s nose when you glance back at him and notice his eyes are molten gold, laden with desire. 

“Bokuto - “ you begin, but you’re promptly cut off by the searing brand of his lips against yours, gasping as he backs you against the wall, his mouth plundering yours. You should protest, but any sentient thought you might have is lost in your newly awakened hunger for him, this beautiful, sweet boy with golden eyes and silver hair who’s kissing you. 

“I like you,” he says breathlessly when you finally push him away in an effort to pull air into your deprived lungs. “Go out with me - please?” he adds, almost as an afterthought, brushing his thumb against your cheek with a gentleness that belies his large frame crowding you against the wall. 

You want to, oh Merlin - you want to indulge in the warmth that’s starting to sprout in the previously frozen tundra of your heart but you have to recognise that he’s Bokuto Koutaro, Quidditch player extraordinaire bound for the professional leagues, so popular that he already has a fanclub in school. 

And you - you were a social pariah before you met him, you would ruin his reputation if anyone finds out that you’re in a relationship with him, not to mention you’ve been accused of being cold and distant and harsh - all characteristics that disqualify you from being a good match for him. 

“I can’t.” You shake your head, keeping him an arm’s length distance from you, because if he comes any closer, you might lose your resolve. “We wouldn’t work out at all”.

The golden light dims in his eyes, and his arms fall limply to his side.  “Is it because I’m dumb?” He asks, his voice heartbreakingly quiet. 

“No!” You cry, taking a step towards him. “That’s not it at all!” 

He frowns, confused. “Then why don’t you wanna go out with me? Don’t you like me?” 

“I do”, you admit, hating yourself for having to extinguish the spark of hope in his eyes. “But we won’t work out -” 

“Why’re you so sure of that?” He takes a step forward, reaching towards you. You knock his hands away and he stumbles back, stung. 

“Because I’m not good enough for you!” You shout, your words echoing against the castle walls. “Because I’m snarky and frigid and cold and rotten to the core - and you’re wonderful and funny and sweet and you deserve so much better than me”. 

Your words stun him into silence, and before he can work out a response, before your resolve starts to crumble, you take a large step away from him. With trembling hands, you reinforce the frozen fort in your heart, forcing yourself to beat a hasty retreat. 

“Besides”, you add, voice shaking. “What could I possibly offer you?” 

You disappear around the corner, coldly ignoring him even as he calls your name. 

-----------------------------------------------

“He’s wandering around the castle like a lovelorn ghost”, Akaashi says, dropping into the library seat across yours. 

“Explain why that makes it my business”, you hiss with the indignation of a cornered boggart with no means of escape. 

He just gives you a knowing look and you glance at the skulking librarian, wondering if you should risk a detention to drive your sharpest quill into the back of the Ravenclaw boy’s hand. 

“You know, it’s sad you think so little of Bokuto-san that you refuse to allow him to make choices for himself.” 

“What are you - “ 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” His gaze remains resolute, even as you snarl. “Why don’t you prove me wrong?” 

-----------------------------------------------

But you’re stubborn, so you avert your eyes whenever Bokuto comes into your line of sight, changing seats so you don’t sit anywhere near him in Charms, escaping whenever he tries to call your name. Your Tuesday tutoring sessions with him are a thing of the past. You even hear from Miya Osamu that Bokuto’s been trying and failing to bribe first years into letting him into the Slytherin Dungeons, though they’re all far too frightened of your reputation to even dream of crossing you, not even for the bait of a ride on his rare firebolt.

You’re lonely, but you refuse to admit it to yourself.   

You even refuse to watch the match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin despite it being touted as the social event of the year. Both team’s lineups are exceedingly impressive. Representing Hufflepuff there are powerful players like Bokuto, Ushijma, Azumane, even surly Kyoutani. Slytherin’s certainly no slouch either, with Oikawa, Suna, Daishou, Kuroo and the Miya twins. 

But you huddle in the library and ignore the screams and cheers of the whole school spectating the match until Akaashi skids into the library, distress clear on his face. 

“He’s injured”, he manages to spit out between heaving breaths, and you don’t even need to ask who he is, panic turning your ribs into kindling, burning a blaze through your chest as you sprint full speed towards the hospital wing. 

Quidditch is a horrendously dangerous sport - the Daily Prophet Sports Section is full of horrendous injuries like long lasting concussions and smashed bones that you’re already imagining the worst by the time you cross the threshold of the hospital wing. But Bokuto’s not even lying on the cot - he’s sitting upright, a confused yet hopeful expression on his face as you stare at him, dumbfounded. 

“A-Akaashi said you were injured”, you manage to stutter. 

Bokuto waves a bandaged finger at you. “Yep”, he says, taking wary steps one at a time towards you. “Suna got me good when I was about to catch the snitch”. 

“Oh”, you say lamely. “I see.” You’re thankful no one else is in the hospital wing to see your disgrace. “I’ll be going, then”. 

“Wait! Please don’t run away again”, he begs, taking advantage of your distracted state to catch your hand, his fingers circling your wrist easily. You tug against his grip, but it’s futile - you’ve left your wand in the library in your mad rush, and years of Quidditch training have sculpted Bokuto into the human embodiment of a brick wall.

“Let go of me!” You order him in the coldest tone you can muster. It’s not even icy - in fact, it’s probably lukewarm.  

He shakes his head, as stubborn as you. “Not until you hear me out”, he replies, pulling you out of the hospital wing into the nearest unused classroom. 

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “What do you want to say to me then?”

“Well for starters, you’re the most amazing, scary girl I know”, he says, grinning boyishly at you. “You’re so much smarter than me I don’t know how your head doesn’t go pfft cos it sure isn’t large enough to hold all your brains. And you’re nice - I don’t know why you pretend you’re not - Yachi said you cursed the boys who teased her ‘cos you found her in the bathroom crying, even though you literally met her for the first time - “ 

“Why are you telling me this?” You cut in, confused. 

“Cos you asked me what you could offer me” He answers simply, his fingers slotting in between yours. “The answer is you. I want you. I like you.” His grin softens into a bashful, goofy, adorable smile. “And I know I’m not smart like you or Akaashi, but I know enough to think you like me too.”  

Your mind is entreating you not to give in, reminding you that you’ll only drag him down with you but your selfish heart wins out. The weeks you’ve voluntarily isolated yourself from Bokuto have been cold and lonely, and the truth is you miss him - you miss the silly jokes he makes, the playful banter, his boundless confidence and kindness and friendliness. Maybe that makes you selfish, but you can’t deny it any longer, you want him for yourself.

So you reply with a shy smile of your own. “Maybe I do - like you, I mean”, you say, with an earnestness you must have learnt from him, tilting your face up towards him like a flower seeking the sun. 

His eyes grow wide with delight as you step into the circle of his arms, allowing him to draw you against his broad chest. 

“And to be honest, maybe I’m the fool for not letting myself admit that I’ve always liked you”. 

“Don’t call yourself tha - mmmph!” 

This time it’s your turn to interrupt him with a kiss, tipping his head down to slide your lips against his, the heat in his eyes and the sunshine in his smile that finally melting the last vestiges of ice in your heart and transforming you from a snow maiden into a girl made of flesh and bone. 

-----------------------------------------------

Akaashi convinces you to sneak into the holding area before the next match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. 

You’re self conscious, constantly adjusting the scarf in Hufflepuff yellow and black looped around your throat, but that immediately dissolves when Bokuto whoops the minute he spots you, bounding over to sweep you into an embrace, demanding at least twenty kisses before he lets you go. 

You oblige, because when faced with Bokuto’s pleading eyes, you’re weak, soft.  

Then you realise why Akaashi was so insistent on you surprising Bokuto just before his big match. 

Miya Atsumu falls off his broom, slack jawed. Miya Osamu trips over him. Even Suna Rintarou looks at you and Bokuto with a modicum of fear and respect. 

“Get it together!” Kuroo snaps at his team, hands on hips. 

None of that registers with Bokuto, of course. The minute the whistle blows, he speeds off, leaving even Oikawa in the dust, and before a dazed Miya Atsumu even scores once against Daichi, the Hufflepuff keeper, Bokuto is already holding the golden snitch aloft in his hand. He proceeds to do laps of aerial cartwheels around the pitch before hovering in front of the stands where you sit, shamelessly blowing kisses towards you. 

You hide your burning face in your hands. Akaashi just sits beside you, intolerably smug. Bokuto, oblivious as ever, just whoops.

[makeste]

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

hey everyone, so can we talk about this?

this is the first time that Katsuki has talked about his own personal shortcomings to such an extent. he’s flirted with acknowledging them out loud before, at the provisional course, and we know he’s been working on improving himself, because we saw the change during the joint training arc. but this is the first time he has actually come right out and admitted that there is something he knows he’s missing, and that his goal now is to find it.

so there are two parts of this that I want to break down and discuss. let’s start with this:

“I’ve learned that just because I’m strong in a fight, that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.”

JBox translated this as “I’ve learned that pure strength isn’t enough to become strong.” I’m curious as to how Viz will word it. but it’s Mangastream’s translation that really piqued my interest. “that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.” correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this is the first time Katsuki has ever talked about himself as a person at all. up to this point he’s seemed to have zero interest in any kind of self-reflection. and even now, he’s still bringing it up in a context of strength. he needs to be “strong” as a person because that will help him become stronger as a hero. but regardless of how he frames it, or whether or not he’s only seeking it because it pertains to his goal of surpassing the number one, this is still huge IMO for him to bring up strength of character and acknowledge that it’s still something that’s eluding him.

and it’s not like this hasn’t been brought to his attention before. for all of his strengths, his personality is the one thing that’s been consistently singled out by virtually everyone he’s ever met as a glaring fault. and yet he doesn’t seem to have ever given this real thought until recently. possibly because he didn’t think it actually mattered in the big picture. or maybe it’s because until recently, he was able to shrug off those accusations because he knew that deep down he was good where it really counted. like, yeah, he might swear a lot and he might not get along with people and maybe his temper gets the better of him at times. but he was able to brush that off because he knows deep down that he’s a hero. and not just any hero, but the person who’s going to become the best hero. and so he had faith in his own integrity, and didn’t let other people’s perceptions bother him, because who the hell cares what anyone else thinks.

but note that I did say “until recently.” because in the last six months or so story-wise, a lot has changed. things which have sent little parachutes of self-doubt sailing over Katsuki’s formerly impenetrable walls of indifference. he was singled out as a target by villains. yeah, they were wrong about him, but it still says something that they thought he was a good prospect. and not just them, but everyone. the press gathered together less than 48 hours after a child was kidnapped, and felt comfortable speculating about whether or not said child was unhinged and destined to follow the villain path. yeah, Aizawa shot them down, but Katsuki still got a behind-the-scenes documentary feature look at how some of the actions he’d never before given a second thought to were actually affecting the world’s judgment of his moral character.

and then All Might lost his power at Kamino. something which Katsuki felt was his fault. and then, directly on the heels of that, there was the shock of realizing that the childhood friend he’d maligned and tormented for years had ended up being All Might’s chosen successor. and there are so many ways that Katsuki could have responded to that realization. being jealous of Deku. being derisive of All Might’s choice. but instead, his reaction to learning Deku had it right was to immediately follow it up with: so I’m wrong. and just, wow, though. and then, of course, this was all compounded even more when he failed the provisional license exam. so now we have the villains, the general public, and the heroes -- or at least, the people in charge of deciding who gets to be a hero -- all hitting him up with various different versions of you are flawed, you are deficient.

anyway, thankfully at this point he did something he’s never done before and actually reached out to someone, even if it was in the most shounen way ever (“should I just talk to my rival like a normal person? nah I’ll challenge him to a fight”). and he and Deku had a heart to heart via their fists, and then All Might gave him a hug and some good mentor advice. so the worst of that line of thinking was curbed before it could become more damaging. and he seems to have rebounded since and is back to his old confident ways.

buuuuuut. we have seen him paying more attention to other people’s remarks than he seemed to before. maybe this was something he always did, but just pretended like he didn’t. hard to say. but there’s no denying the way that Horikoshi made it a Thing during the Band AU arc, when we saw those upperclassman grousing about how “class 1-A is the one causing all the trouble” and then Katsuki listening in, stony-faced. and then he got really pissed off and ranted about it afterward.

so yeah. and then more recently, during the joint training arc, we also had that incident where Monoma -- on camera, with Katsuki watching, and we know for a fact there was sound because U.A. based their teaching model on The Hunger Games, and also the kids were able to hear Shinsou’s voice-changing shenanigans earlier -- was all “SO HOW ABOUT THAT TIME THAT BAKUGOU CAUSED THE DOWNFALL OF THE SYMBOL OF PEACE, EH.” which marked the first time we confirmed that Katsuki isn’t the only one who’s made that connection. mind you, I don’t think Monoma actually meant it; he was just trying to rile Deku up into talking so he could pull the ol’ Jedi mind trick. but still, the fact that he had that remark ready to go means that it must have crossed his mind before. and at this point I think it’s pretty safe to say he’s not the only one. it’s an obvious enough conclusion to draw, and society was a hot mess for a while following Kamino, and it was the kind of thing where I’m sure that a lot of people, shaken up in the aftermath of this disaster and struggling to process it, would be looking to assign blame.

so now Katsuki, who formerly did not give a shit and was very proud and upfront about his lack of shit-giving, has been more or less forced to confront the fact that like it or not, his behavior -- and other people’s perceptions of it -- maybe matters a little more than he thought. and it seems like maybe he’s become a bit more sensitive to that lately. a little more aware.

I think it must be frustrating for him in some ways, because he knows that he’s good and that his intentions are good, but he has difficulty conveying that. and the other thing is that he’s not the type of boy to ever have people actually say to him, “hey, you’re a nice guy.” (Kirishima, I think, is the only one that might have actually said that sentence to him -- I feel like he has? -- and honestly there’s a reason why Katsuki trusts him so much, and things like this are no small part of it.) “amazing”, sure. he gets that all the time. and “strong”, which is the adjective he himself uses the most when talking about things he admires. but never good. and he might not ever show any signs of needing that type of reinforcement, but (a) sometimes we don’t know that we need something, especially if it’s something we’ve never had before, and (b) even if Katsuki was in any way adept at identifying his emotional needs (he’s not), the odds of him ever mustering up the will to actually ask are slim to say the least.

but no child wants to be bad. Katsuki’s one and only desire since he was very little has been to become a great hero. and heroes are inherently good. this boy, for all his surliness and stubbornness and toeing-the-line, works hard. he listens to his teachers. he studies. he fights fairly, and shows honor in other ways (like fessing up immediately to being the first one to throw a punch). he shows kindness and gratitude and concern in his own prickly ways as well. his goodness isn’t the kind that comes up to you and slaps you in the face, but it still manages to shine through like sunlight through a cloudy filter. he is a good person. and I think that sometimes, during his more intense moments of self-doubt, he may have wondered if maybe he’s not. but he is.

and having said all of that, one of the things I would like to see at some point in the future is for someone to actually tell him that. for him to get that validation. because I think that’s something he’s seeking, even if he’s not aware of it. even now he still has the media censoring his interviews, as if they’re worried he’ll somehow corrupt the viewers with his attitude. even though the whole reason he’s being interviewed is because he proved himself through his actions. somehow it’s still not enough. so I just think it’s something that would mean a lot to him to hear. “you are strong, but also you’re a good person.” so yeah. All Might, maybe -- get on that.

moving on now to the second part of this essay!

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

you know what I find interesting about this? at first glance, one might assume that he’d already solved this mystery. doy, the kid that only ever thought about winning and victory has to learn how to help others. we got that already; All Might broke it down for us nice and clear back in chapter 120. we’re good.

and the thing is, it really seems like we are good, doesn’t it? Katsuki passed his remedial exam with flying colors. he and Todo saved a bunch of would be purse-snatching victims, and he even saved their wallets (that makes it sound like he got them to save 15% or more by switching to Geico lol but NO, IN THIS CASE IT WAS LITERAL). and let’s not forget that dominant performance during the joint training arc, in which he both allowed himself to be rescued, and breezily rescued others with no qualm. by all measures, it would appear that he has embraced this new way of heroing, and seems to be taking to it as naturally as he takes to everything else.

so then the question arises: if he already figured out that IT’S THE RESCUING, STUPID, then why is he still talking about “what he lacks” as though there is still something he’s missing? and not just missing, but as-yet-unidentified to boot. he doesn’t actually know what it is. he’s trying to figure it out.

so I have a few guesses, but since this essay is already running long, I’m just going to jump right to my main one: what he’s talking about is the difference between this:

and this

in a very similar way to how Katsuki himself proved there was such a big difference between this

and this

“the difference between those who are aiming for the top, and everyone else.” so yeah. and if this applies to the “winning” part of the hero equation, then it also stands to reason it should apply to the “rescue” part as well, right?

so what would that mean? basically, as far as I can tell, it’s the difference between your everyday rescuing, and between Deku’s style of rescuing. no, I’m not talking about the bone-breaking. I’m talking about, “my legs just started moving. why? I dunno!” or, as All Might puts it, “their bodies simply moved before they could think.”

what Deku has is not just the will to rescue. it’s the instinct to rescue. in the same way that Kacchan uses his quirk intuitively to reach ever greater heights, what Deku does intuitively is to save and protect others. he is unrivaled in this. his instinct to rescue surpasses even All Might’s. and this is what makes him great.

what Katsuki is doing right now is rescuing on the balanced, sensible, government-approved level of things. which is fine! admirable, even. but compared to what Deku has, it’s the same as Monoma’s will to win pitted against Katsuki’s own utterly indomitable will, which is completely illogical and excessive in exactly the right type of way, and is what drives him to the levels of excellence that he’s achieved. Deku’s will to rescue is like that. it’s on a whole different level.

and I think one of the biggest things I can say in praise of Katsuki is that he is not yet satisfied with where he is in terms of his moral strength. he understands that there’s a level he has yet to unlock and achieve. something that he isn’t yet grasping. and I’m pretty sure this is what it is. and if that’s the case, then he’s in luck, because I think it’s safe to say there will be plenty of opportunities in the near future to hone his own rescue instincts. Deku didn’t really start to approach Kacchan’s own levels of WIN NO MATTER WHAT until his battle with Muscular, and the key thing that made the difference there was the stakes. needless to say, in this latest arc, we have stakes aplenty. 

and all it takes is one moment. for there to be something to be on the line which Kacchan realizes in a moment of clarity that he can’t lose. something to trigger his own instant of my body just moved on its own. and then from there? who even knows. but it’ll be a sight to see.

so that is my [checks notes] 2600-word essay about Kacchan’s 75-word speech in chapter 247. to sum up, what I want for my son in this arc is for things to finally click for him to get that moment of Hero Autopilot, and also for other people to get with the program and acknowledge what a good kid he is, goddammit. even if he gets embarrassed. or embarrasses them immediately afterward by demonstrating exactly how good of a kid he is by blowing up the nearest inanimate object and launching into colorful tirades about someone’s mother. Bakugou is basically like a poorly wrapped Christmas gift. ugly on the outside, doesn’t quite look right when stacked next to the other gifts, but once you rip that sucker open TAH DAH, IT’S THAT BRAND NEW THING YOU WANTED! and it kicks all the other gifts’ asses. what more could you want in a character lol.

[kittyprincessofcats]

GPF Torino - Day 2

I'm going to continue what I did yesterday and write down my thoughts of the day before going to sleep. Small warning: While I feel better now compared to earlier, I'm still heartbroken about Rika, so if I sound sad/angry/bitter in this post, that's why.

- We watched the Ladies, Pairs and Men's practices this morning, which was amazing. I'm honestly enjoying the practices more than the actual competiton. Maybe because there's no stupid judges and no points to worry and stress about during the practices. I can just lean back and enjoy the skating.

- Yuzuru went for the 4A in practice 3 times. One the one hand it was pretty epic to see those attempts. But on the other hand, he fell pretty hard of all of them, and I don't want him to injure himself before the free skate.

- Nothing to do with the GPF, but we went to eat Sushi for lunch and it was delicious.

- Here's my story of trying to deliver my cat plushie to Rika: I asked one of the security guys where the gift boxes for skaters are (because the website said there'd be some, and because it's hard to throw a plush toy from all the way up there. I also wrote letters to Rika and Yuzu and you can't really throw those on the ice.) The man told me it's not allowed to throw stuff from all the way up there anyway, but he didn't know anything about the gift boxes and just told me to "ask downstairs". I went to one of the organizers downstairs and asked. She didn't know either and went to get her collegue. The collegue asked if I speak Italian. I don't. They finally told me that there is no gift boxes, but that I could leave the toy with them and put Rika's name on it and they'd give it to whoever's responsible for delivering fan presents. I left it with them and now I can only hope it'll actually get to Rika. I guess I'll have to look for that plush cat in her Instagram present photos later :D

- Junior Ladies: As someone who's neither a big fan of Kamila nor of Alysa, I'd say that based just on these skates the placements were fair. I also have to say that both of them impressed me with their performanes here. The one placement I don't agree with is Daria's bronze medal - I'd have given that to Ksenia.

- Funny moment:

Alysa: *jumps "4Lz" in the warmup*

My dad: How many rotations were that?

Me: The judges will say 4.

My dad: I counted like... 3 and a bit?

Me: Yup, that's about right.

My dad: Good, I thought my eyes were deceiving me.

- Though one thing I have to say is that I did kind of start rooting for Alysa halfway through just because there was some really obnoxious Russian fans sitting close to us. They screamed like crazy at the Russian skaters, didn't bother clapping for anyone else, one man was shouting things all the time, and the only time they cheered for Alysa was when the announcer said the words "second place". And that wasn't a "Well done, second place is a great achievement" cheer, it was a "Yay, we're glad you're not in first" cheer. And later I felt like Alysa was kind of left on her own during the victory ceremony while the two Russian girls had each other (kind of like Rika at the NHK ceremony). So yeah, I felt pretty bad for Alysa here.

- I don't understand much about Ice Dance tbh, but P/C were really fun to watch. My dad keeps calling him "giraffe man" because of his long neck.

- Ladies SP: a.k.a. the moment my mood went from good to absolutely awful :( I don't even want to say much more, I'm just really sad. The free is where Trusova is planning 5 quads and Shcherbakova 3, so the short really is where Rika should have placed ahead of them to have a chance at a medal. I kept doing the maths in my head and even if she skates a clean free now, it's not going to be enough for anything more than 5th unless some others make mistakes (which is also thanks to Shcherbakova and Zagitova being overscored here).

- And just to be clear: I don't hold this against Rika at all. She's injured, jetlagged and nervous and I saw how much better she was in practice. Anyone who says anything rude about her will catch these hands.

- Also the scoring was awful again. No edge calls from what I've heard. Even with this performance Rika should have been ahead of Trusova and arguably Tennell as well. Scores for Shcherbakova and Zagitova were too high. Alyona Kostornaia was amazing - I'd have given her a few points less, but only 1 or 2.

- This honestly made me way sadder than Yuzu yesterday. Mostly because 1) Yuzu has already achieved everything and has nothing left to prove, 2) Everyone and their mom is a Yuzu stan so it's not like he's lacking fan support, and 3) ... I'll honestly admit that I'm a Rika stan first and a Fanyu second.

- After Yuma Kagiyama and Haein Lee yesterday, I asked if my faves placing last in the SP was going to be a trend - guess I shouldn't have said that.

- One thing that made it better, though: I loved seeing all the fan support for Rika! From what I could hear while cheering myself, the cheers for her weren't any quieter than the ones for the 3A. And she got so many presents thrown on the ice! That was really lovely to see.

- Sweet moment:

Me: I wish there was other Rika fans sitting next to me.

My dad: Hey! I'm right here!

- My dad brought his huge camera and he's taking pictures of all the skaters. He's at over 6000 pictures now. When we get home, I'll delete the bad ones and post the really nice ones here.

- The two girls sitting next to us saw some of my dad's pictures and asked if he has any of Yuzu. He sent them over 15 pictures from practice. Which would have been cute and all if this hadn't been right after the Ladies short and if I hadn't been sitting between them feeling like crying.

- I tried to enjoy pairs after that, and I kind of did. I'm happy for Sui/Han, though their performance was far from what they're able to do. I'm thrilled for Peng/Jin - that's my two favourite Pairs of the competition winning gold and silver, so that's nice.

- The Ladies FS is last tomorrow, and I genuinely suggested just leaving after Rika's performance - because I really don't care about the ET girl showdown. Obviously Kostornaia is better than the other 3 and should win hands down, but I'm not invested enough in even that to sit through the outrageous scores the others are sure to get. But my dad thought it would be rude to just leave - as if the skaters will notice 2 people more or less in the audience.

- The men's practice is at 7AM tomorrow and whoever made that decision is my enemy. I hope I'll be able to get up that early, since I'd really love to be there for practice on Yuzuru's b-day, but I might oversleep :/

- Even though my BiB nails didn't seem to have helped, I'll still do IAoP nail polish tomorrow.

- I'm starting to think that Rika should go for the 4S. Not like she has anything left to lose now. Except, of course, if risking a quad could make her injury worse - in that case I wouldn't do it and just focus on making it through the comp without worsening her condition.

[spilladrop4hadestown]

Hadestown...

Okay, after having time to process my very quick trip to NY to see what I knew would become my favorite musical...here are my thoughts on Hadestown.

I went in with very high expectations and it did not disappoint. It was amazing and it’s pretty much all I want to talk about now!

I was Center Orchestra 3rd row and it was amazing. There weren’t any tall people in front of me so I had a clear view. The theater was smaller than I thought it would be which was actually really nice. It felt very intimate. The only “issue” was that I couldn’t just stare at Reeve or Amber the whole time because...they could see me y’all! I felt like I had to be on my best behavior. Lol. Andre stared right at me!

There’s so much I wanted to remember but the whole experience was amazing and my trip was a bit overwhelming so here’s what stood out that I can recall in no particular order...

Andre de Shields has a commanding stage presence. He had an air of authority about him while also being playful. That man is a legend!

The Fates! They are so good! Jewelle, Yvette, and Kay are so in sync. The way they all move together is otherworldly, which I know is the point but to see it live is incredible. Seeing them on Hades and Persephone’s balcony moving in sync stands out in my mind. It was so cool to see. Oh and when they show up with the lanterns! That was cool. Also they play menacing so well. The shared looks and head nods between the 3 of them before they start messing with Eurydice were fantastic. I can still see Kay smiling and nodding so clearly in my head. And can we just talk about how stunning all 3 of them are? I mean whoa! Jewelle’s voice is AH-mazing! I know nothing about singing really or music stuff in general but I think I’m super into altos! Yvette’s Fate just looks like she’s having so much fun causing trouble. Her smile and the excitement in her voice...I love it! And I love Kay because I too am small and scary!

Patrick Page! First of all, I have a crush on that man! Whew! HIs voice...damn! I just really loved all the moments where Hades wasn’t trying to be big and bad. Right before Persephone leaves, it looked like he was resting his chin on something and was sulking. It was hard to tell though looking up through their balcony railing. Then after she leaves he has his back tuned to all of us until it’s time for him to come down the stairs. Epic III! His face during that whole thing! I’m a sucker for sad Hades! The way he just stared at his hand when he produced the flower! His face was priceless! He and Amber have incredible chemistry and they are both such talented actors.

Eva Noblezada was fantastic! She stared right at me during Flowers and I had to wipe away tears. Amber was sitting behind her near the piano right in my eye line. So I’m staring at them and they’re both looking in my direction and we’re all getting emotional over Flowers and yeah, I just feel like it was a moment.

Reeve Carney! What can I say about Reeve? His voice is beautiful (and I got to tell him so) and his face is beautiful (I kept that to myself). His La la las gave me chills. I loved how he looked at Persephone in the beginning with such awe, like he was star struck. He and Eva staring at each other across the stage was a moving scene. They also have great chemistry. 😏 

The workers were great of course. T. Oliver Reed was on for Tim. All of them are so buff it’s ridiculous. I mean it makes sense for the story and for the actors with the physical demands they have with performing. Kimberly and Afra are arm goals for sure! There was one part (prob during Chant) where they were kinda piled together and they looked like statues. There was no movement (not a single muscle twitch) except for the turntable rotating them and it looked amazing!

Speaking of...I loved the turntables. And the lamps! They swung right over my head and it was the coolest thing ever! Oh and when the set opened up...that was incredible! 

And of course, there’s Amber Gray! I could write essays on her performance and I probably will. Lol. I love all the actors but she’s my favorite so here it goes.

Her face! First of all, it’s lovely so jot that down! But the best part is how expressive she is. She puts so much into that character. Her movements too. That dancing while folded over...how? She is a force of nature on that stage! 

In the beginning of How Long, she played it more angry than questioning when she said, “What are you afraid of?” And “He’s just a boy in love!” It was delivered more aggressively than the cast recording and I loved it. Nothing beats that Amber growl!

She always looked at Orpheus and Eurydice so protectively and it was so cute/heartbreaking to watch. You could see the turmoil in wanting to protect them but also feeling powerless.

Our Lady of the Underground. We all know she hip thrusts and looks down after she says, “Step into my office.” But did you know that she sticks her tongue completely out also with a devilish smile? The whole thing is absolutely obscene and I’m so here for it! Persephone is fucking feral!

Raise a Cup! Oh my god, Amber Gray sang Raise a Cup a few feet away from me and I’ll never forget it.

Now on to the Stage Door...Ahmad came out first and I’m glad he did but it made me sad knowing he only had one more show left. I’m so happy for him heading to West Side Story though! He’s a cutie!

Then John came out and his tie had skull and crossbones on it so I told him I liked his tie and he said it was for an event across the street (I later leaned this was The Bonyz).

Patrick came out next and I told him how amazing his voice was and we took a picture. The Fates came out the door but were leaving to go to The Bonyz so I just got pictures of them (looking fine by the way) as they walked by. They’re mostly blurry but there’s on where Yvette is looking right at me with a big smile.

Then Reeve and Eva came out but started on opposite ends of the crowd. Let me just say that Reeve Carney is a beautiful, beautiful man! I took some pictures with him and told him how beautiful his voice is. Eva is so sweet and I told her that her singing Flowers brought me to tears. We took some pictures. That was it because everyone else was headed to The Bonyz. What I want to know though is how did Amber cross the street in front of the theater, dressed like she was, without being noticed? Lol. 

As Reeve and Eva started across the street together I told them to have a good evening and Reeve looked back at me and replied, “Thank you. You too.” Sigh.

The next day was the Broadway Flea Market and it was awesome! I went before it officially opened and there was already a line for the Hadestown booth that had just started setting up. My goal was just a poster signed by everyone (gotta get those elusive Andre and Amber signatures, ya know!). But then I saw Persephone’s fans signed by Amber and I knew I had to have one! They had Fate fans signed by all 3 of them that looked so amazing, but Amber’s was my priority. Then I saw the candles and thought, “Why not? It’s for a good cause.” I popped by a little later and Jewelle and Kimberly were there. I got to tell Jewelle how great the show was and that I loved her voice. I told Kimberly how freaking awesome the workers are and that it was super cool when they all were completely still on the turntable like statues. They were both so nice. Then I did the autograph line and got another playbill signed by Patrick, Eva, and Reeve as well as some black and white pictures I had that I took of the Walter Kerr. Eva thought my pictures were cool and showed Reeve before I got to him in line. Then Eva’s signature went off the picture a little and she goes, “Oh shit I fucked it up. I’m such an asshole.” I told her it was fine because it’s unique now that it’s messed up and she goes “It’s authentic.” It was the most Eva interaction I could imagine if that makes sense. Walking past the booth again, Afra was there so I got her to sign my Playbill from the night before. I wish I had asked Kimberly and Jewelle when I saw them earlier.

All in all it was an amazing time and I have some awesome Hadestown memorabilia now. The only problem is...I now want to do it all again! Why is NY so far away?

[libidomechanica]

So, take theres name

So, take theres name, called me before  their Coranall. Loneline whose  rubious paintessences, who, in  the Long Knives barely 

had none knelt never beautiful  olives of field. When  yu seen where are  life to proof. Wrappe though in 

extremest kisse in other, as  bad: in vain�� but  not passing: Mark me! “KING of the 

ramparting 

Boreas thing, a key…Even the 

bird then all whatsoever  trace of thee bridal  yellows what shall send  of that are to 

suit the said, ‘ Youre where ; and twilight does yett, 

where about that so it  goes. “I swearied, dove, to take  to thee, and  inter blank and like though they  put to grown my 

humour was a basketball  which are cocktail county,  flame-hot. The value,  and the  red like a voice on” their of  your strife, my neste: 

his coraged, and soul, we  wall, utterd on the rought,  a poisonous and left with  the 

exhaust proved you and all blind your  hearts doubt; and ripe,  adieu my tear many thrusts 

insubstance. That is explain,  nor of the silent  than all set me before  their checkmate, nor neede more  hope of all arrive  whatever grass! “But add  to its neckcloths chains willing  snatch the spots unconfind,  in Junes in the  days underfoot, and one 

bastion, or  any senses, or foot statue, like  a man of courses  star-pitch never change to haue 

gate,” of chief pacha 

sits marry leisure tame,’ chiding 

the Black  and haply third and stolen like 

of great hidden ever Ive lost,  but for a boy, a  sugred bramble and  quavering one, we moonbeams: and  gold comes what  if by such for I took his  not short of leaves of the  Holy Land;— and dealer,  had been half promise  of hope to me I  shall wings, that I 

was cut of an icebox  have seen, and high: only marrow  drowning. To live lease 

Not a jocund calld 

with care na by. to  be sixth years  in ague. And shruggd—and Juan  wants told you! Thus for  at these and flyes, and quite of  a princely repentance.  the sage of Tityrus  inquire Or  both performan act the five 

brass and I hated rocky 

marred with many a  whale w

as as favourd as to  the second 

corps, Faint! for it 

at a shift, my still expectation  growing bare. For, like their  souls out she ware . My 

dreamt I stops: Potterd wondering fruict, 

[ariofourpointo]

In the picture: Left - Patrick Cutrone Middle - Hachim Mastour Right - Manuel Locatelli

The three of them were the members of Milan Primavera team as the picture was taken back in 2014, the time when Mastour’s reputation was sky-high compared to the other two, thanks to the hype he got from his professional acquisition in such tender age of 14 two years earlier. Positioned as trequartista (Center Attacking Midfielder), the slot for the ‘fantasista’ or ‘the man who bring imagination into the play’, no one could deny his massive talent. Mastour had been familiar with excessive media exposure and expectation that are supposed to launch him into stardom.

Meanwhile, Cutrone and Locatelli were relatively unnoticed then. The former was a prima punta (Center Forward, a classic number 9) while Locatelli played as regista (Deep-Lying Playmaker like Andrea Pirlo, Demetrio Albertini and Carlo Ancelotti before him). Loca, though, was the captain of the Primavera side thus giving some justification upon his talent. Cutrone, despite a respectable youth scoring record, never seemed to be regarded as future prospect. The hype was just not there for him.

Fast forward to 2017, three years after the aforementioned picture was taken, we can see what happen to those three youth prospects. Let’s start from Loca. He had been featured, bar not so regularly, in Milan first team fixture last season (2016/17). His biggest impacts were the game against Sassuolo (scored an equalizer with stunning half volley as a substitute), Juventus (scored the match winner through a screamer to top of the goal), and Inter (displaying his astute playmaking with high work rate to cover the pitch; nevertheless he had a lapse of concentration leading to the dying minute equalizer of Ivan Perisic). Overall, I rate him 7 out of 10.

Moving on to Cutrone. He was mostly remained a Primavera player despite being included to the first team roster at the end of the season last term. During the pre-season recently, Cutrone displayed some impressive performane: scoring two goals against Bayern München in no ordinary ways. His rise had something to thank to his prolific goal rate in consistent basis with the Primavera team. It is a highly deserved achievement for him. He is 6 per 10.

What about Mastour? Here is the clue: he scored below five in my parameter. Well, the article about him from Matthew Santangelo on thesefootballtimes.co explains Mastour’s situation quite well. Mastour has not been able to meet all the hype and expectation casted upon him. Being loaned out overseas in hope for gaining playing minutes, Mastour never managed to bring his full potential upon the ‘real game’. I mean, he was a YouTube sensation, but so was Neymar. The difference between the two is that Neymar has made it into stardom while Mastour path toward it seems so blurry, much alike to Martin Ødegaard and Adnan Januzaj (where the fuck is he?).

From contractual perspective, it can be justified that Locatelli is the one with the most advanced position. He is now in contract with Milan until 2020 (bar the shitty payment thus show his love and loyalty to the club). Cutrone’s will expire next year but I am positive that Milan will keep him (the direction seems to go that way, IMO). In the meantime, Mastour’s had expired at the beginning of this month but it turned out Milan gave him another chance to prove himself. He is awarded a one year new deal but he will have to start all over again from the youth side. Isn’t it, let’s say, enigmatic?

In footballing context, three years looks like forever. I mean, the calamity of Italian NT 2010 World Cup campaign despite boasting the so-to-say identical roster with 2006 World Cup winning squad is one thing. Another thing is the path of career that our three protagonists had been through. Nobody knows that it will end up in this order, that the most hyped player becomes the one whose progression is the slowest. Despite naivety in blaming everything on Mastour, it is quite wise to point out that Mastour had been unabled to get a grip upon public expectation. The factors may vary, but I can say that excessive expectation and non-constructive environment might halt him from reaching his full potential. For me it is a gargantuant remorse.

However, there is still time to nurture the career of this prodigal son of Milan. One year in Primavera with the help of our legendary dynamo Rino Gattuso as coach may help to forge ‘grinta’ (Italian word for grit) upon Mastour consciousness. Personally, I prefer players with big heart who are willing to run tirelessly, to ‘create’ endlessly, to show his commitment in every-matches. Those kind of attitudes are needed in order to achieve greatness similar to what the previous generations of Milan players had achieved.

These old-timers realized they had enormous talents as basic capital to be legends but they never forgot to hone their skills, to always strive in every occasion, and to show their affection toward the jersey they bear. This semi-paranoia, winning-mentality is very important to be deployed sistematically during the education of young players so that they know what it takes to end up big, to have the right mindset in approaching every single game in their career. This might be untangible but if you look closely, you can always tell which players who pledge to differentiate themselves from the rest within the big flock called 'mediocrity’.

It is not always pleasant for everyone to see ambitious people reaching out for their goals but as long as you have faith in yourself, in your self-value, and you don’t hesitate to work your ass-off for it to thrive, don’t stop now. Never stop. Your idleness, ego, and weak mental state are the only obstacles that stop you in achieving greatness.

Kuningan, August 1st 2017

[the-fitsquad]

PROLINE Gold Series Laptop Workstation, Sort 12

Laptop Workstation Ergonomics Suggestions

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Want to visualize what these inventive workstations and private offices will appear like in various colors? As a outcome of this, Windows itself can become smaller depending on the device, the OS itself can be built quicker, and devices will not be encumbered by components and attributes they don’t in fact want speeding up all round functionality in the process on smaller or much less capable devices. At the opposite end of Lenovo’s portfolio is the mighty P910 , a workstation that gives 1 or two Xeon E5 CPUs there’s no E3 here and undoubtedly no consumer components. This versatile series of desks permit you to customize the best desk for your space. The HP Z4 Workstation also functions significant design and style improvements for tomorrow’s workplace environment with a sleek and modern industrial style such as ergonomic front and rear handles, a substantially smaller chassis for cramped workspaces and a new dust filter selection for industrial environments.

Strains from repetitive activities, incorrect posture, badly developed furniture or positioned workstations can all lead to decrease productivity in staff. Intel mengganti FSB dengan QPI (Intel QuickPath Interconnect) yang memungkinkan untuk memindahkan memory controller dan PCIe controller dalam CPU. Make confident to pick up an NVIDIA graphics card so you can take maximum advantage of GPU rendering possibilities. The advantage to employing this workstation app as opposed to operating on your neighborhood machine is that in the workstation, you will be in a position able to access information stored on DNAnexus without downloading the files to your nearby machine and getting constrained by your local web bandwidth. The Snapdragon 800 was a considerably much more strong chip that didn’t struggle almost as considerably with Windows RT. Paired with 2GB RAM for multitasking, factors run pretty smooth on this mini tablet.

HP’s 9826 was the company’s 1st production workstation. And whilst OpenCL is compatible with any graphics card (at least to some extent), CUDA is only accessible with NVIDIA cards. two Multicore is made to improve functionality of specific software merchandise. Your work is vital and your workstation requirements to back you up. When it comes to dependable workstations that will not quit consider HP Z. HP Z Workstations function no compromise reliability, aid secure information integrity, and offer effortless serviceability all from a system that has reliability constructed into its DNA. HP and Adobe engineers function closely to confirm that Adobe Creative Cloud applications can take complete benefit of the overall performance functions of HP Workstations to give pros greater self-confidence in their production remedy.

However, if you are merely intrigued by the thought of a tiny desktop Computer for the workplace, take into account the compact HP Elite Slice, which provides more than sufficient productivity although also providing a customizable modular design and style. The greatest internal distinction in between the Z820 and the Z800 is that while each systems have a huge plastic shroud that covers the CPUs and memory, the Z820’s can be removed in 1 piece, which means that – as with the rest of its tool-less assembly program – essential components can be swapped out with out the need for a screwdriver. Simply because of employees like Windows ten Crucial Sale Shop () , i will refer every person to this site. What I discovered was I could get a employed Dual CPU Xeon two.8ghz+ workstation with a Quadro FX4000+ GC, 12-24gigs of DDR 1333 ram for a affordable in price range price.

Working all through the UK, our specialist team of joiners produce educational and office environment furniture that is exceptional in every way from our unique fold-away Compu-Desks to bespoke developed and crafted bookshelves that can turn any wasted space into an appealing one particular. To give you an idea of the precise hardware that will compliment your SOLIDWORKS application and allow you to reap all of its positive aspects to the maximum level, we have composed a list of qualities the best SOLIDWORKS workstations possesses, so let’s jump to matters of importance. Desktop A basic property Computer at your desk as it really is wordy meaning suggests2. 1. A folio is raised as quickly as the guest checks in. Main areas for a checkout are the belldesk and the cashier.

Any copying, modification, display, overall performance, publishing, licensing, creation of derivative works, framing in other web pages, use on other internet sites, uploading, reproduction, transmittal or redistribution of the EQ Content material which is not expressly authorized by these Terms of Use is strictly prohibited. ThinkStation delivers the latest generation of Intel® Xeon® processors, which offer you unmatched multicore processing efficiency combined with effective NVIDIA® Quadro® specialist graphics in an innovative and extremely-usable design and style. (Then), we implement the project primarily based on the program regardless of whether it signifies installing hardware, configuring workstations, organizing education, writing analysis, or designing a new technology.

It’s the first office system to support casual work and to provide comfort at the desk, in circulation spaces, and in group areas—all within a constant style vocabulary. Sensible and robust workstations that represent an powerful standard for ICT furnishings. Our advisable Revit Workstation specification guarantees you have the power and stability required at a sensible price tag point for heavy computational tasks, whilst getting multiple cores to take advantage of Autodesk Revit’s multithreaded capabilities such as opening and saving Revit files, loading components into memory for the 1st time, point cloud data display etc. But the professional graphics processors excel at CAD or digital content material creation, with CUDA acceleration and certified drivers to give consistent overall performance.

Intel 17-6850k Broadwell CPU, Nvidia Quadro P5000 GPU, Asus X99 Deluxe II, Corsair Dominator Platinum DDR4 3333Mhz 64GB (4 Sticks), Samsung 960 Pro SSD 512GB, Western Digital Black 5TB HDD, Corsair HX1000i Power Provide, ThermalTake Core P5 open water cooling case. These types of desks also usually come with generous storage and table top space, so you’ll always be tidy and organised. Some motherboards give the alternative to have one more graphics card, but restrict it to only SLI or only Crossfire, which is why the MSI 236A guidelines the motherboards for Xeon processors as the ideal motherboard. Fresh entrepreneurs can supply IT help and onsite computer solutions to home customers and little firms. A desk is the centrepiece of the house office, which is specifically why we’ve created a gorgeous range of solid hardwood possibilities for you to create a workspace that is best for you.

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