#i have math/science muses so i need these for me

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Muse

Senku x Artist Reader Pt.2

Summary: Reader seeks Senku's Help. The reader finds herself nearly failing all courses involving science and math, what a shocker! Senku can’t help but give the reader a hard time as she asks him to be her tutor...

Word Count: 1,372

Tag List: @maria-trisha

It wasn’t often that Senku was left alone, unbothered by distractions in the school lab. Usually, other classmates carry on with experiments. Sometimes Taiju would keep him company, but Taiju was too extroverted of a friend so much work wasn’t completed with him around. Senku was enjoying the quiet stir of the boiling water, he was currently crouching as he slowly poured some unknown liquid down a buret. Pouring until he reached the desired volume. Senku was deeply concentrated in his work, unaware of you quietly approaching from behind.

“Senku….”

Your voice so soft, Senku almost didn’t acknowledge your presence until he saw your reflection from the lab counters. Slightly startled, he put down the liquid and turned around to face you. Right away Senku could tell something was off. Your voice was too soft compared to your loud and obnoxious self, you looked flushed, and your eyes kept averting him as you slightly swayed.

“Is something wrong?” Senku, asked slightly worried by your behavior.

“Everything thing is ok…. it’s just…” your voice started to trail off as you walked closer to him, standing beside him as you placed the papers you were holding onto the counter, “…I need a favor…” You nudged the papers closer to him. Looking over the papers, the red marking on the paper was hard to miss. Nearly every question was marked with a red X’s. He could see eraser marks littered on the paper, hardly masking the drawings underneath.

You just couldn't help yourself.

 He could feel you staring at him, waiting for his reaction. He knew he had to be delicate, clearly you were embarrassed. He let out a deep sign as he ran his fingers through his hair, “You make Taiju look smart…”  He glanced at you, and he knew he could’ve been more delicate. You were looking at him with tears in your eyes as you hurriedly scrambled to pick up the papers.

“Neverminded! I’ll ask someone else…”. Before you could walk away from him, he gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Senku….”

“I think I have vague of idea of what you need from me. But I need to be ten billion percent sure. What’s the favor?” He waited as you calmed down, blinking the tears in your eyes away.

“Not to make your head any bigger…” you started off, you gripped Senku’s hands in yours and looked into his eyes, pleading. “you’re the smartest person I know! You know so much about science and math! It’s your specialty! And well…I need help from the best!”

He didn’t say anything, he watched as you pulled the crumbled test scores back out, placing them on the counter. “I need you to be my tutor!”

“Hmmm…. I don’t kn- “before he could finish teasing you, you had dropped down to your knees and gripped his right leg and began to shake and beg.

“PLEASE SENKU! PLEASE BE MY TUTOR!”

“OK! Just get off me you airhead!”, he shook his leg to get you off. Pleased by his response you beamed and leaned in for a hug only to be stopped by his hand to your face.

“Thank you so much Senku! I owe you one!”

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It’s been a few days since you asked Senku to be your tutor and finally you were going to have your first study session with him. He trailed behind you, following you home as you began to ramble about all these other courses and clubs you were in, making more sense for him as to why your grades were lower than Taiju’s.

“…And I also joined the beginner’s pottery, and OH! I joined a glassblowing class! How cool is that! You turned to see Senku not so amused at your choices.

“Glassblowing? Why the hell would you take that?!”

“Because it sounds cool! Who knows, it might come in handy one day! Maybe someday you’ll be asking me to make you some of the glass bottle thingies that you use!” you said very smugly.

“Uh huh…whenever that day comes, I’ll be sure to get on my knees and beg the very same you did for me…WHICH IS NEVER!” Senku stated as he pinched your arm to get you moving faster.

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Finally at your home, you and Senku got yourself situated getting ready to learn. Before Senku could even open the book, you let out a deep groan.

“Uhhhhh! I don’t want to do this!” you grumbled. Resting your cheek on the table as you looked up to Senku, whose eye was twitching at your behavior.

“The sooner we get started, the sooner we can finish. So, get your damn head off the table and let’s do some science!”

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After 2 hours of Senku nonstop calling you an airhead you were finally taking a break, although you had to do a lot of convincing on your end to make it happen. Senku was a relentless tutor.

Senku watched as you got up to go get some snacks before moving onto the next topic on your tutoring.

“You want anything?” you asked, looking down at him sprawled on your floor.

“Just a cola…thanks.” Senku listened to your footsteps getting further away, until it was just him in your room. He glanced around your bedroom, and he realized just how much you were into art. Paintbrushes and pencils scattered on your bed, posters of bands that he has no clue about littering your bedroom walls. Stacks of sketchbooks up against the leg of your desk. Standing up from his spot on the floor, he walked over to your desk and noticed a sketchbook he hadn’t seen you with. It wasn’t unusual that he wouldn’t recognize one of the many sketchbooks you owned, but this one was different. It was well taken care of. The leather of the sketchbook was in pristine condition, the paper wasn’t crumbled or had pages coming loose from the binding.

Curious, Senku opened the sketchbook, flipping through the pages, he noticed that he was the subject of many of the sketches. You had drawn him from different angles, some in his lab with a serious face, others with a soft look in his eyes gazing into the night sky, others it was just him…He felt like he learned something he wasn’t supposed to. This felt personal…Senku hurriedly closed the sketchbook and sat back down in his spot.

“Hey Senku, here’s your co-are you okay?” you kneeled in front of him, tilting your head as you examined his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay!” he swatted your hand away from his flushed face, “Break’s over let’s move on…”

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“Are we done? “You whined as you watched as Senku grade the practice sheet he created for you.

“You definitely improved…I guess we’re done for the day.” He watched as you cheered, relieved to give your brain a break. “Since I was teaching you about science, it’s only fair if I ask a question about art…”

You turned to look at him shocked written all over your face.

“YOU WANT TO LEARN ABOUT ART! OMG! YES! WHERE DO I EVEN START!” you gushed. Senku quickly cut you off before you could start your usual rambles.

“I didn’t say I wanted to learn about art! Listen, you airhead! I just had a question regarding art.”

“Oh…what’s your question?”

“What does it mean if an artist…repeatedly draws something or someone?” he asked. He tried to make the question as ambiguous as he could, without exposing what he saw.

“Hmmm… it could mean many things! I guess it depends on the artist…I would just assume that the subject is the artist’s muse.” You replied, nonchalantly, sitting on your bed as Senku packed his stuff.

“If you were to draw your muse over and over again…what would that mean?” he asked, by now he towered over your sitting form, and watched as you slightly turned red by his question.

“W-what? W-why are you asking?” you stuttered out, confused by his questions.

“Just curious…about art and stuff…you’re the only artist I know…” Senku said quietly, looking into your eyes.

“Well…it’s like I’ve always said,” you looked away from his eyes as you glanced at your hands, smudged with pencil stains. “My muses are my love.”

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A/n: Thank you so much for reading! If anyone has suggetions or requests don't hesistate to ask! Just please be patient with me!

[bitchface24-7]

Oops my hand slipped and I’m back again (for the 3rd day in a row (I think I have a problem))

So following the trend of me seeing too many fanfics of smthn I don’t vibe with, I’ve noticed that a lot of Jayce and/or Viktor x reader fics have the reader as a scientist (makes sense writing-wise, provides a lot of opportunity for characters to interact and bond)

Problem is, I am dogshit at science. I was good at most subjects in high school, but science? Nearly failed. I was good at math and word problems too which made it even more confusing to me but it is what it is ig. So I was hoping for another JayVik x reader where this time, the reader is an artist

Now I primarily draw OCs and people (usually digital or w/ marker) so I’d like smthn leaning towards that but frankly you can do whatever

I just think it’s be funny if, while Jayce n Viktor do their cool nerd shit, the reader is fully unhelpful and doodling in their sketchbook. Quality time except I’m drawing sexualized men (gender equality) and my hot boyfriends are solving global trade or whatever

(Mayhaps also drawing them for studies and anatomy practice and showing them because I like forcing ppl to look at my art >:)) )

Again, take as long as you need to write this, hope you’re doing good :))

MY MUSES - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: after escaping Noxus with your best friend Mel, you've cherished the peace of Piltover compared to the wartime of Noxus. You were able to flourish in the city of progress with your artistry. It was the way you and Mel found solace in your old home. Now, you've been commissioned by the council to paint a portrait of the Hextech duo.

warnings: talks of wartime, insecurities, awkward talk, becoming friends with J + V, anatomy practice, complimenting your two boys, fluff, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration, even I've fallen into “make reader a scientist to make life a little easier.�� I hope y'all enjoy artist reader!

You're painting in your studio at the Academy when the door is opened, and you smell the delicious fragrance of vanilla, cardamom, and sandalwood, it’s Mel.

You put your paintbrush down and turn to look at your best friend, a smile beaming on your face. You get up and go for a hug before stopping yourself, your clothes are stained with paint and you don’t want to ruin Mel’s pretty white dress.

She fondly rolls her eyes and pulls you into a hug anyway. Mel’s not a very touchy person. It was seen as a weakness is Noxus. She’s only really touchy with you, you’ve been her friend for as long as you can remember. She wholeheartedly trusts you.

And you know how rare that is.

“Hello dove. How’re you today?”

You scrunch your nose at the nickname, it was a nickname given to you when you were much younger. “It’s because you don’t see the glory of war. You’re gentle. Something I desperately need in my life.” Mel had explained, her Medarda Mask no where in sight.

“I’m good. I’m almost done the landscape you commissioned for the council room.”

Mel’s smile widens the tiniest bit, but her gaze is downcast. This isn’t a social call. She’s been tasked to ask you something.

“Mel, I understand. Just, tell me what you need from me.”

A sigh escapes the gorgeous woman, “The council has requested a portrait to be made of the two Hextech innovators, Viktor and Jayce Talis.”

You raise your brows in confusion, “Okay… why is that a bad thing?”

Mel leans on a clean section of your work station, a hand coming up to rub her forehead, “They’re constantly working. They don’t see the prospect of taking a break. If you were to paint them, you’d have to paint them in the lab; as they do dangerous experiments. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You place your hand over top Mel’s hand that’s braced against the desk, “I’ll be okay. I can’t imagine they’d let anyone get hurt.”

Mel nods sagely, the hand that was rubbing her forehead is now placed over your hand. She’s now cupping your one hand and rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll tell them what the council has demanded. When will you be free to paint them?”

You look over to the almost finished landscape painting sitting on your easel, “Give me a week.”

Mel nods, gives you one last hug, and leaves your studio to break the news to Viktor and Jayce.

You just hope they’re nice to you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The week passed by in a flash, and here you are. Standing in front of two very large doors that make you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You don’t understand why you’re so nervous. You’ve painted portraits of the top-class in Piltover. The cream of the crop. The top one percent, and you were fine. You were mentally rolling your eyes every few minutes, but you were fine.

You’re now asked to paint two scientists and you feel like you’re going to have a stroke.

At least Mel gave you some advice in regards to both men, “Jayce is quite kind, easy-going, and easy to talk to. You’ll make quick friends with him as you are. His partner Viktor on the other hand… is a different story. He’s cordial, but stubborn. He’s quite witty with a sass that almost matches mine. He’d prefer it if you skipped the flowery talk and just got straight to the point. He’s not a fan of the mind numbing politics of Piltover. Say what you mean or don’t say anything at all.”

With that mantra repeating in your head, you knock on the doors to their lab.

“Come in!” A voice exclaims, “We cannot leave our stations, the gems may become volatile if we do.” Another voice adds, this time with an unfamiliar accent.

You lightly push open the doors and are stunned by the state of the lab. Papers everywhere, equations on a blackboard you don’t even want to attempt to understand, ink stains, scraps of metal.

You suppose this is their version of an art studio.

“Oh!” The first voice you heard exclaims, “You must be Mel’s friend, the one who’s been commissioned to paint us. I’m Jayce. The one brooding over there with goggles on his face is Viktor.”

A scoff, “I am not brooding. I simply do not see the purpose of a portrait being made of us. It takes time away from our research!”

You cut in, reminding yourself of Mel’s advice, “The council has ordered it. Besides, I need to study you two for a little bit. Understand your anatomy and proportions. Then when I have a clear understanding, we’ll take one day out of your schedule to get the painting done.”

Viktor raises his goggles, putting them into is hair and the most beautiful pair of eyes you’ve ever seen narrows onto you, “You’ll only need one day to paint us?”

“The weather is constantly changing. That means so is my light source, my shadows, my colours.” You explain easily, “If we spend the whole day together, I’ll be able to easily get the portrait done and you two can go back to work. Sound good?”

Viktor purses his lips before nodding, Jayce just looks between the two of you with a small smile. He thought that would’ve taken a lot longer.

Guess you’re pretty special.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One Week Later.

Their work is fascinating. You don’t understand quite a bit of it, but their enthusiasm and passion make up for your lack of knowledge.

Here they are trying to solve most of the worlds problems and you’re sketching them in your sketchbook with hearts in your eyes.

You focus on their bodies, how they bend, contort, their planes and shadows. How light glows onto them.

You focus on their unique features. Jayce’s sharp canines, Viktor’s cheekbones and moles. Jayce’s broad chest and Viktor’s cane and brace.

Those two points are especially important. They’re so detailed. And they’re a part of Viktor, you’re not going to erase something so vital to him as a human being to make the portrait “nicer to look at” according to the upper echelon of Piltover.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t feel a presence come up behind you, “Whatcha doing?”

You jolt, putting a hand to your heart as your pencil drops to the ground, “By Janna Jayce! You scared me!”

A boisterous laugh permeates the lab, “You we’re so focused, I couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing.”

“We’ll… I was drawing my two very beautiful muses.”

There’s a small silence in the lab.

“Your—“ Viktor starts, then clears his throat as Jayce stands there, stunned, “Your beautiful muses?”

You nod, not realizing their disbelief, “Of course. The two of you have such beautiful features. Jayce is quite tall, with broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and strong legs. A nice hair cut, strong brows, big eyes, and pink lips. You, Viktor on the other hand—“

You’re cut off by said man, “Are not as conventional—“

You cut him off this time, “Are also tall, lean, lithe, with long beautiful legs. You have a face carved out of marble, messy hair, eyes that look like liquid gold, beauty marks, and a nice pale complexion that compliments Jayce’s tan. You’re both quite handsome, just is different ways.”

The two men are stunned into silence, and it takes a few minutes before you realize what you said. You feel your face heat up as you try to hide behind your sketch book. Viktor lightly smiles at that as Jayce laughs and forces your sketch book back down onto your lap.

“You know, I’ve never heard such an honest compliment before.”

“Neither have I.”

You feel like killing yourself. Maybe jumping out of one of the lab windows will do the trick.

“So,” Viktor’s interrupts your dark humorous thoughts, “Do you feel prepared to paint the portrait?”

You look the two men dead in the eye, even as embarrassment consumes you.

“Yes.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A day is set and you bring all your art supplies that you need into the lab. You even set up a place for the portrait to be.

The setting will be in front of their main work station, the hexcore and hexgems glittering in the background. You brought a comfortable armchair for Viktor to sit on, you know these paintings can take some time and you don’t want to over-exert his leg. You assume Jayce can stand for a few hours, placed right next to Viktor.

As you explain your thought process to them, the more excited they seem. And to think, they didn’t want to do this originally.

“Ok, get comfortable. Viktor you can put your cane to rest against one of the arms of the chair. Jayce, can you place your hand on the top of the headrest? Perfect. You two comfortable?”

You get nods and yes’ as your answer.

With that, you start to paints them.

You ensure to be as diligent as possible. You start with the boys, adding bits and pieces to the background as you go. You make sure to her the green in Jayce’s eyes, the beauty marks on Viktor’s face. The house Talis emblem on Jayce’s jacket; the intricacies of Viktor’s cane and leg brace. The purple and blue glows of the Hextech give the painting an almost magical feeling.

You have to say, this may be your best portrait yet.

A couple hours pass and you deem the painting complete. The two boys sigh, Jayce cracks his back as Viktor cracks his neck. Most of the painting was done is silence, a few tiny conversations sprinkled throughout the process.

You didn’t want them to move.

The two come to where you’re sitting and gaze at the portrait in awe. It’s… them. It looks so life like, as good as a picture. But it’s softer, it looks beautiful.

And they look phenomenal.

“Are you sure that’s us?” Viktor jokes, pointing at the painting, “Those men are incredibly handsome.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, “Now you know what to say when you look in a mirror. That’s how you look, and it’s how you’ll be remembered.”

Jayce smiles and puts a hand on both your and Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor looks touched at the sentiment.

“You should move your art stuff to be here. Permanently.” Jayce states easily.

You almost choke on your own spit, “Pardon? Why would I do that?”

“Because we'd miss you,” Viktor replies a cocky look on his face.

You huff out a laugh, “Ill be of no help to you. I'm not a science brain. I'd just be in the lab drawing you two constantly.”

“We’d pose for you.” Jayce jokes

“Even if I wanted to practice nude anatomy?”

Viktor hums, “Not in the lab obviously, but yes even then.”

You smile at them, “It’s a deal then.”

And to think you were scared they wouldn't be nice to you. You just obtained two pretty muses (hopefully for the rest of your life.)

TADA!!! This was such a cute request. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Pebble, you keep those requests coming (and everyone else who requests too 🫵😏)

I have like four requests now in my inbox and I squealed when I saw it. I've never had so many requests before. Usually my inbox has like… spam and fishing schemes. So this is amazing to me!!

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Next-to-last of our species

Based on this

“Project Cadmus’ purpose was to create an anti-Justice League of sorts,” Dr. Lilva said calmly, twisting her hair in the hand that wasn’t handcuffed to the table. “But despite Luther’s unimaginable wealth, he was cutting costs in this incredibly delicate operation. He decided that instead of one clone for each Justice League member, we’d do one for two.”

“Why?” It wasn’t like Luthor to cut costs, Batman mused. He flaunted his money as if it’d make people forget he was a supervillain. Maybe he’d spent too much on his last mech suit. He should tell Dick that. “I don’t know. But it worked in our favor. We weren’t really creating clones. We were creating embryos that had your DNA. But, as we all know, you need two sets of DNA to form a full body. So, mixing two of your DNA together would not only give the clones a stable body, but the powers or,” she motioned to him, “intelligence of the parents. Which is how we got here.”

Three scientists from the now destroyed Project Cadmus, Dr. Lilva, Sal, and Trit, had turned themselves in to the Justice League saying they were willing to share everything that had happened during Project Cadmus on the grounds that they be allowed access to job opportunities in their very narrow fields. Dr. Sal, who seemed most against turning themselves in, rolled his eyes. “It would have been fine if—“ “No it wouldn’t!” Dr. Trit glared to him. “It would have!” “No! It’d be fine if we hadn’t combined Martian Manhunter and fucking Batman! We created a Batman that can shapeshift and move things with his mind!”

Dr. Lilva sighed. “Be quiet. Our first stable clone was made of a combination of Superman and Luthors DNA. Where we made a mistake was the creation of 14; the combination of Martian Manhunter and Batman.” Sal scoffed. “He wasn’t a mistake. He was a success. As smart and calculating as Batman, capable of shifting into inanimate objects and people, as well as incredible telepathic and technopathic abilities. The mistake was making him too smart. Too aware.”

“We wouldn’t have been able to prevent it.” He looked around. Superman didn’t look very good. He was pale and sweaty, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Martian Manhunter had a very odd expression on his face, as if he was trying to find every bit of information about ‘14’ that he could. He probably was. Superman met his eyes, and he knew he was questioning how he felt. He was fine.

“13, the combination of Superman and Luthor, didn’t have Luthors intelligence but he did have Superman’s powers. Average intelligence but very emotional, he seemed to feel everything ten times more intensely than others. 14, however…. He was best at learning. Not just science or math….” Lilva shivered. “He watched us, copied us, and it took us far too long to realize, but he was reading our minds. Learning.”

“Unfortunately, it took us longer to fully understand the lengths of his technopathy. We thought it was just light electrokinesis, but—“ she cut herself off with a strangled laugh. “When he started talking about our personal information, things we looked up, things we talked about at home without our Cadmus devices—that’s when we realized he’d attached himself to every. Single. Piece of technology. That we’d interacted with.”

She motioned for Sal to speak. He sighed. “One day, I was staying late to finish some work. 13 was incredibly clingy, and 14 was a charmer, so they got to share a room. One of the walls was made entirely out of nth glass. 13 was asleep, and 14 was watching me. He tapped the internal mic, and asked me why I wasn’t at Lily’s recital. He told me that she was asking ‘Mrs. Millie’ if she’d seen me come in. He told me…. he told me ‘lily pad is very upset.’” Sal looked disturbed. “I had forgotten my daughter, Lily, had a play. She was playing the sugar plum fairy. Mrs. Millie is her teacher, and ‘lily pad’ is a nickname I have for her. And he knew that, despite me never mentioning having a family.”

That was a little disturbing. Not just knowing about his family, that was easy with a little research into the employee, but to know not only the teachers name, the recital, and a nickname, that implied that ‘14’ had been watching Sal for quite a long time. “How does this imply that ‘14’ had ‘attached himself’ to your devices?” Lilva motioned for Trit to speak. She also sighed. “Ok. So. Uhh, during my break I’d, uh, use my home phone to watch Netflix and stuff. And keep in mind Project Cadmus was located almost twenty five miles underground, and the break room was on surface level.”

“Well, one day I was watching The Nun, and when I got back down I had to deal with a ‘strange situation.’” She used air quotes then sighed again, running a hand through her short hair. “13 was crying and 14 was trying to comfort him, telling him it ‘probably wasn’t real’, which made him cry harder. When I asked what was wrong, 14 yelled at me for ‘choosing to not watch Friends this one time.’ 13 interrupted him and asked me if demons were real. I told him I didn’t know, and asked 14 what this was all about.”

She laughed. “He didn’t answer, but it was pretty easy to figure out. I usually watched Friends during my break, but I’d finished it at home. So I’d decided to watch a movie. And before this we’d seen signs of 14 building a mind link between himself and 13. It was obvious that he’d attached himself to my phone, and shared with 13 what I was watching. Unfortunately, it was a horror movie.”

“After that we noticed that the electric doors would unlock and relock at random, usually locking us and the other doctors in and letting 13 and 14 out. Our computers would glitch and turn off when using them, the machines made to test their ability’s would break down right before testing. I’d tried to make sure no one put physical locks on anything because I didn’t want 14 learning how to pick locks.” Trit sighed again and glared at Sal.

“And someone didn’t listen to me.” Sal scoffed and rolled his eyes. Lilva glared at both of them. “How was I supposed to know he’d learn? He didn’t have any lock picking skills or anything to pick locks with!” Lilva gave him a look. “He had his mind.” “So, ‘14’ knows how to pick locks telepathically?” “Not just pick them,” Trit replied, “in less than a day he learned how to unlock and relock them. We learned this when Sal turned off the power to their electrical door and put locks on them.”

Trit and Lilva waited for Sal to speak. He grumbled. “I went in to fix a light that 13 had broken when he was practicing flying, turned around, and both of them were outside the room. I watched as 14 relocked the locks he’d unlocked without touching them.” Sal looked embarrassed. “I was stuck for three hours as they destroyed the lab. I had access to my—“ Lilva raised her hand for him to stop. She was looking at her phone. She was pale.

“Ms. Lilva?” He asked after a moment, “Is something wrong?” She took a deep breath, then tried to give her phone to him. She wasn’t able to. When her arm raised a spark left her phone and she yelped and dropped it, rubbing her hand as it continued to spark. At the same time, the Watchtowers main computer turned on. Batman felt himself and the others tense. The screen was covered in static.

“Stand up!” Lilva told him, her voice shaking. “Flash, stand up and walk fourteen feet backwards from the screen. Do it! Now!” Sal muttered swears. “Why me?” Flash asked, even as he stood. “Because you’re the only one who’ll give us an instant honest reaction on what you see.” That was a good point.

Flash went fourteen feet, turned and jumped. “Holy shit!” He almost choked. “There’s eyes in the screen! Like, a face—oh my god it’s smiling at me.” Bruce quickly stood, as did the others. The scientists stayed seated. Batman walked backwards to Flash, keeping his eyes on the screen. There was nothing. Static, static, static, then—he stood next to Flash and he appeared.

He took a few steps back and forward, testing his eyes. A foot forward he was gone. And a foot back, the same. Only when Batman stood fourteen feet away from the screen did he see his and J’onn’s clone, 14. He was hidden in the static, but at fourteen feet away the static melted together to form a face. It reminded him of when he was a child, stuck at galas and so bored he looked to the marble to find hidden pictures.

The static face was watching them intently. Batman could feel a finger gently poking his mind, trying to enter. He locked his psyche down tightly. 14’s face seemed to become amused. “Interesting…” Martian Manhunter muttered. “He knows who we are. All of us.” Superman stood next to Batman, tense. “What do you mean?” “It means he knows our identities. He knows where your parents live, the code to Batman’s contingency safe, the names of Wonder Woman’s mother and aunts….it seems that the moment the doctors phones got close enough to the computer, he attached himself to it.”

That wasn’t good. The static face seemed to think it was hilarious, laughing. “Who are you?” He asked sternly. It didn’t seem to affect the face. The face disappeared. Bold words appeared. ‘You know who I am,’ they said, ‘you just spent ten minutes talking about us’. So he’d been listening. How quickly was he able to get into the computer? “What do you want?” The words disappeared and were replaced with new ones. ‘Nothing much. Just, oh, I don’t know—the people that tortured and experimented on us dead? That too much to ask?’

So revenge. “What does 13 think of that plan?” He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a low ringing sound coming from the computer. It got louder at his question. ‘His name is Connor. And he shouldn’t have to worry about these things. He had it worse than I did.’ He glanced toward the scientists. They’d only told them of the clones and that there had been experiments—they hadn’t said what type of experiments. “Could you elaborate?”

‘Sure. The people sitting in front of you–if they can even be called people–are sadistic, selfish, narcissistic assholes who not only ‘encouraged’ us to show our powers with physical torture but also sold information they learned in the project to third parties. Like they’re doing right now.’ Suddenly Sal, Trit, and Lilva’s bodies began sparking and smoking. Trit shrieked and removed a wire from her hair and waistline. They sparked and the one from her waist caught on fire. Trit continued to panic as she tried to pull a chip out from under her manicured nails.

Sal removed two chips and a wire from his tie, belt and hair while Lilva removed four wires from her bra, waistline, shoelace and hair band. The one from her hair caught fire before she could pull it out, and a small section of her hair caught fire. Sal helped her pat it out as a distorted laugh came from Lilvas phone on the table.

‘She deserves worse.’ The words on the screen said, ‘Superman. Have you ever been burned before?’ Superman didn’t answer, instead whispering to Wonder Women about how odd it was he didn’t hear the wires and bugs electrical humming. ‘CLARK KENT.’ The words were bigger now, and he felt someone pinching his mind. ‘DO YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE BURNED? DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN BE BURNED?’

Superman jumped and turned, reading the words. “Uh, no—no, I haven’t. I can’t.” He sounded unsure. Batman didn’t blame him. The static disappeared, and a video played. It looked to be camera footage. It showed a medical room. Sitting on one of the beds was a boy, maybe fifteen, with short curly black hair and blue eyes. His skin was unhealthily pale, and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants, the shirt having Superman’s symbol on one side and the number 13 on the other.

Out of place in the medical room was a fire pit. There was a fire poker in it, and the flames were lit up green. Doctor Trit came in. “How do you feel?” 13—Connor glanced at her then looked away. “Fine. A little nauseous. Is that normal?” Trit walked to the fire pit, shifting the poker around. “Perfectly. Hold out your hand.” Dread pooled in Batman’s stomach. Connor looked nervous, but did as he was told.

Trit pulled the fire poker out, kryptonite attached to the end. Its end was slightly red and orange, cracks running along it. She turned and placed it in Connor’s open palm.

Connor shrieked and screamed, trying to pull his hand away. Trit held him still. Connor struggled, tears running down his face, begging her to stop, to help, to take it away. Trit made him hold it for twenty seconds before pulling it back. When she did they saw Connor’s hand, the flesh bubbly and red with blood, blisters forming. Connor cried, and the video ended. The static returned, but it was quiet. Almost in respect.

"Jesus christ," Flash muttered, and Batman was a little worried about the way Wonder Women was looking at the scientists. "We were just doing our jobs!" Trit cried weakly, "We didn't want to but we had to!" 'SHUT UP' The text said, and the scientists began to yelp and wither. 'There is a fine line between experimenting on a subject and torturing them.'

'What you did to us stepped several feet over that line. What you did to us spat in the face of workplace ethics and our human rights.' Trit suddenly shrieked, and Sal began convulsing. 'We're never going to forget or forgive what you did to us. He will never feel truly safe, truly happy as long as your alive.' Sal began foming at the mouth, whimpering. Trit was muttering 'make it stop' over and over again, and Lilva was writing something on the table. It looked to be a will.

"He's melting their minds," Martian Manhunter gasped, "That—that is not a metaphor. He's quite literally reducing their brain matter to mush." Flash went to the scientists side and tried to keep Sal still while Green Lanturn began copying what Lilva was writing. Her handwriting was getting worse and worse. Wonder Women went to Trit's side as she began to sob and stutter, attempting to speak. It was all incoherent.

'I don't want to hurt people.' The screen said, 'I don't even enjoy hurting them, no matter how much they hurt me. But this isn't about me, it's about Connor. It's about ensuring Connors safety. It's about making sure Luthor gets a clear cut message; hurt him, and see what happens. Try to hurt us and I'll destroy him and everything he cares about. Fuck around and find out.'

"We can help keep you safe," Batman said as Sals twitching slowed, "Both you and Connor. You don’t have to kill them." Lilva wasn't writing so much as scribling, and Trit was still crying. Her eyes were bloodshot. 'I do, Batman. They installed both of us with a kill switch. Only two ways to trip it; either insert a key into the incubators were were created in, or enter a code on the computer in Luthors office.'

Batman felt his heart drop. 'The key and the incubators have been delt with, the computer and any copy of the software destroyed. Only one person had the code. The lead researcher. And he shared the code with two other people. I have to keep my brother safe, Batman. We're all we have. I'm sorry.'

The room was much more quite now; Trit was dead, Sal was unconscious, and Lilva mumbling incoherently. 'I want to live the rest of my life by your code, Batman, and I'll try my best to do so. But please, please understand that I had to do this. Not just for revenge, but for our safety. Martain Manhunter would’ve never found the code in their minds; he's not as invasive as I am. They would’ve left and immediately killed us. Thats why Sal wanted to get out of their as quick as possible.'

'Maybe one day, when the dust has settled and Conner feels safe we can talk face to face; really talk, y’know? I'd like to do that. But I don't know when the right time for that talk will be.' It was quiet as the rest of the League read the message. The humming was fading. Batman felt his heart jump when his pocket buzzed. It was his phone.

It was a new contacct thats number kept changing. It was named 'Danny'. The text read, 'but in the meantime, I'm down for some small talk.'

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be |  l

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet a new kid and your feelings for your best friend are said aloud.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of slut shaming, implications of violence, implications of strict parents

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Starting my first ever series for Eli! I always wanted to do a series following his story line in the show along with a female character so I did! I'm aware of other series being done like this by other writers on here, but this will be my own unique twist. There are similarities because it does follow the show's storyline but different because of my own interpretations!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“If the limit never approaches anything, then the limit does not exist,” you listened to Eli as he helped you with your math homework. “But in this case, it does, so what is it?” he pointed at the problem on the sheet.

“Two?” you furrowed your brows, trying your best not to sound like you were guessing. 

“C’mon, Y/N, you’re in Calculus for a reason,” he encouraged.

“Only because I passed Trig with an 89, they only let me in because of pity,” you frowned. 

Calculus has been your enemy since the beginning of the semester. You really didn’t want to take the class in the first place but your parents had been adamant about you taking higher-level classes. You would’ve been fine filling up your schedule with more creative art classes like ceramics and photography, but that wasn’t the agreement. 

Math and science classes were part of the agreement. 

Thankfully, you had two smart best friends who helped you whenever you had trouble.

“My advice?” Demetri spoke up.

You and Eli glanced at him, a knowing look on both your faces.

To be honest, while you had two best friends, only one was good at helping you out. 

Demetri on the other hand? He had a habit of giving unsolicited advice. But because you loved him, you tolerated and actually encouraged him to hear what he had to say. 

“Rewatch Mean Girls,” he deadpanned. 

You let out a chuckle. “What I’m hearing is, that you guys are agreeing to watch it for our next movie night,” you grinned.

Both boys groaned.

“I’m fine watching your sci-fi, superhero films, but a girl needs her rom coms and chick flicks,” you mused. 

Being the only girl and having vastly different interests compared to the guys, there were moments where you felt outnumbered. Sometimes you have to plead for one movie night to be your pick. 

“I’d be down for Mean Girls this Friday,” Eli shrugged.

You silently clapped your hands, face creeping up with heat when you and Eli made eye contact.

“Demitiri?” you turned your attention to your other best friend.

After a minute, he rolled his eyes, agreeing.

“This Friday, my place,” you grinned. “Both my parents will be having a date night, so we’ll have the place to ourselves,”.

“Are you sure your dad will allow that?” Demetri cocked a brow. “That man is scary and I don’t want to know what will happen when he sees his daughter home alone with two boys,” he shuddered. 

“He won’t mind, he likes you guys,” you attempted to reassure. “Besides, we’re just watching a movie,”.

“We know that, but will he?” Demetri asked in a mix of sarcasm and sincerity. 

“C’mon, my dad isn’t that scary,” you trailed. 

“I-I don’t think he likes me very much,” Eli said quietly. 

“He does,” you straightened up. “Don’t worry about my dad guys, you’ve known him for ten years,” you stated.

You watched as the boys avoided your gaze, the sound of the cafeteria surrounded you when they both fell silent. Leaning back in your seat, you wondered why they were bringing this up now. 

Like he read your mind, Demetri spoke up, “I’m just pointing out an observation I’ve noticed for the last few years. The older we get, the more of a threat your dad thinks we are,” he explained. “Guess it’s the raging teenage hormones!” he gestured with his hands, joking at the end.

Eli’s lips spread out into a smirk.

Relaxing, you shook your head at the way your best friend acted, even though you found the joke to be funny.

For the next few minutes, Eli went on to explain limits to you. You were about to ask a question when a new presence stopped you.

“Hey, can I sit here?” 

You all turned your attention to a kid with dark hair and brown eyes, a tray in his hand as he gestured at the empty seat next to Eli. 

You were about to welcome him until Demitri beat you to it. 

“Check back next semester as you can see we’re entirely booked,” he said sarcastically but the new kid didn’t catch it.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he was about to walk away. 

“He’s kidding, you can sit,” you gestured to the empty seat. “I’m Y/N, that’s Demitri and Eli,” you introduced. 

“Miguel,” he nodded.

Just then, Yasmine and her entourage walked passed, causing Miguel to go into a trance. 

You frowned at his reaction. You hated that just cause they were pretty, it forgave all the terrible things they’ve done to your friends and you.

“You’re just torturing yourself,” Demetri warned. “They’re the rich girls”.

“Do you talk to them or…?” Miguel asked.

“Yeah, all the time,” Demetri feigned a smirk. “We hang out after school, make out,” he shrugged. “Eli is homecoming king, and gets laid more than anyone”.

You rolled your lips together, glancing at your lap.

“You pretty much signed away all hopes of losing your virginity before college the moment you sat at this table,” he frowned. 

Comments like that reminded you that boys will be boys. In the sense that virginity is still frowned upon. The societal pressure to lose it before a certain age disgusted you. 

What happened to not conforming to society's rules?

“Oh, great, Yasmine is looking at us,” Eli narrowed in on himself, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “Probably making fun of me”.

“I wouldn’t assume that,” you reassured. “She’s always going to have that nasty look on her face,” you grimaced.

Then you made eye contact with her. 

She whispered something to Moon, causing both of them to burst out laughing. 

You figured she was making fun of you again, calling you a slut or whatever. Dropping your gaze to your food, you checked your phone for the time.

“I gotta go, it was nice meeting you,” you smiled towards Miguel as you got up. 

“What about your homework?” Eli asked.

“I got limits now,” you attempted to reassure but your composure fell when you accidentally looked Yasmine’s way. “Besides I have to get my sketch done before class,” you hoisted your bag over your shoulder. 

Art was your passion. Since you could talk, you could draw. Your best friends might’ve been computer nerds, but you? You were an artistic geek. 

Still, as talented as you were, Yasmine and Moon used that area of your life to make fun of you. Whether it was a silly doodle you drew during class or an actual piece you worked your ass off for class. 

They tried to diminish your spirit with your art, but thankfully you haven’t lost it yet.

Shaking your head to brush the thoughts away, you gulped down the lump in your throat and managed to make your way down the hall to your art class twenty minutes early.

While you were gone from the lunchroom, the conversation at the table shifted, focusing on you.

“Do you like her or something?” Miguel asked Eli.

The awkward boy stilled at the newcomer’s question, opting to fidget with his fingers while staring at his tray. He didn’t think he was being obvious, the only other person who knew of his infatuation with you was Demetri. 

“He’s been in love with her since they met in kindergarten, her too but they’re too scared to admit it,” Demetri answered for him. “I think they’ll get married before either of them admit they do like each other,”.

It was true. 

You liked Eli and Eli liked you.

The moment you laid eyes on him on the playground, that was it for the two of you. But both of you are socially awkward, insecure people…neither of you had the guts to tell each other how you truly feel.

Leaving Demetri to stand and watch at the mutual pining unwind for the last ten years.

“I’m not in love with her,” Eli defended. “Besides, she wouldn’t ever like someone like me,” he folded in on himself. 

“You won’t know if you never strike first,” Miguel tried to reason. 

“Good luck with getting Eli to do that,” Demerit said.

Eli sighed, keeping his gaze down. As much as he wanted to argue, he knew deep down that his friend was right.

~

“Keep this door open,” your dad barked quickly followed by your mother scolding him.

The door had been half-way opened, or half-way closed, when he walked past. He decided it wasn’t to his standards so he made sure the door was wide, banging it against the adjacent wall.

“Sorry,” you said, not looking up from your notebook.

You were sitting in your room, Eli helping you study for your Clac quiz tomorrow. It was a routine for the two of you, hanging out after school and doing homework. Quality time well spent and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sometimes Demetri would join but he decided to play Dungeon Lord after school today. Part of you was happy to hear he wouldn’t be joining.

Especially when that meant you spent more time with Eli. Meaning there would be more brief moments where your shoulders or knees would brush. Which would send butterflies straight to your tummy.

“Miguel seems nice,” Eli shrugged, placing his pen down. “He mentioned something about karate, he wants all of us to join,” he smiled lightly.

“Really?” you smirked. “What did Demetri say to that?” you laughed, knowing he had some highlighted opinions about it.

“Wasn’t on board, but I don’t know,” he glanced down. “Maybe it could be fun,” he said.

“If you want to,” you passed him a smile. “It’d be nice to see you kick Kyler’s ass for once,” you sighed, glancing at the problem in your book.

You missed the way he frowned but he continued, “You should join too,”. 

“Me?” your eyes widened and you glanced up to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah,” he cracked a grin. One that was big and genuine, something that only happened in front of you or Demetri. “You’d be great at kicking ass too,” he reasoned. 

“In my dreams,” you huffed out a laugh. “I can barely do a push-up,” you shook your head. 

“Maybe just think about it,” he suggested.

“Okay, I will,” you nodded. “So, how am I doing?” you licked your lips. 

You pushed your notebook between the two of you. 

Both of you leaned in, your shoulders brushing against each other. Anytime you inhaled, you smelled him. 

He smelled nice. 

“You’re doing good, you just need to remember that an open circle means the limit exists but not in the function,” he pointed at the problem you got wrong. 

“Stupid circles,” you huffed out a breath, running a hand over your hair. “Thanks again, Eli,” you pressed your lips into a soft smile. 

“You’re going to do great, okay?” he nudged his elbow with yours. 

“Okay,” you nodded, allowing yourself to believe. 

You went over the material for a few minutes, your mind getting lost in all things limits and functions. 

Unbestowent to you though, Eli was watching you. 

He watched the way your nose would scrunch when you didn’t understand what you read the first time around. The way your lashes fluttered as you scanned the page. The way you would lick your lips in concentration. The way you would crack your knuckles when they got too stiff. 

He was utterly in love with you. 

Being friends for ten years, you’d reach that point without even dating. Even if it was just puppy love, he knew one thing for sure—he likes you, a lot. 

He doubted himself when he thought about what Demetri said. And when he thought about the comment Kyler made earlier of him being a loser. He had come home crying, knowing he was never going to get a girlfriend because of the way he looked. But then his mind thought to Miguel. 

Maybe he could be wrong, maybe he could get a girlfriend. Maybe it could be you.

Without second-guessing any further, he opened his mouth.

“Hey, Y/N?” he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah?” you reached your gaze to his, your head resting in your palm. 

“I like you,” he confessed, face going pale at the fact that he actually said that to you. 

Your eyes went wide, face blank as you took in his words. You didn’t say anything for a few moments, just staring at your best friend. 

“I-you know, never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he felt embarrassed, shaking his head as he went back to his homework. 

“Wait!” you reached out and touched his arm. “I like you too,” you gulped, a smile creeping up on your face. 

“Really?” he seemed taken aback.

You nodded enthusiastically. 

The two of you gazed at each other for what felt like a few minutes until you bent over in giggles, still in disbelief. 

“I’m glad you told me,” you reached for his hand on your desk, squeezing it. 

“Me too,” he squeezed it back. 

You felt your cheeks heat up before you turned back to your work. 

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you doing work, holding hands.

~

The next day at school, Eli was sitting with Demetri and Miguel. 

Having just told the news about you and him, he was feeling a little proud of himself that he actually did it. 

And more relieved that you actually reciprocate his feelings.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Demetri raised a brow.

Eli smiled, his cheeks turning pink while Miguel laughed. 

“I’m glad someone took my advice, now you see my Sensei is legit,” Miguel pointed out. 

Eli nodded, a small smile on his face.

“I’m gonna need more evidence to back it up,” Demerit crossed his arms over his chest. “This,” he gestured to Eli, “has been a work in progress for ten years, your words of encouragement just gave him enough push,” he scoffed. 

About to respond, Eli was stopped by the smell of your perfume. He turned his head to the left just in time to greet you as you approached the table.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted, taking your seat next to Eli. “Hi, Eli,” your cheeks warmed up.

“Hi, Y/N,” his eyes beamed with admiration. “You look nice,” he blushed, glancing over the pretty green sundress you wore today, but his gaze circled back to your face.

“Thanks,” you glanced down, running a hand over the skirt. “It’s been in my closet for a while, I figured it’d be happy to see the light of day,” you shrugged, unaware he wasn’t talking about the dress.

“You should wear it more often,” Eli commented.

Demetri and Miguel sent each other a knowing look before Miguel decided to cut the awkward lovey-dovey talk.

“So, Y/N, did Eli tell you about joining my karate dojo?”

You focused your gaze on him, the warmth of your cheeks dissolving when your mind was pushed away from Eli. “Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “I thought about it, but I don’t know if I want to do something like that. I need my hands for my art, I don’t want them beaten and bruised,” you stifled a laugh. 

Miguel nodded in understanding. “Thanks for thinking about it, Y/N,” he pressed his lips in a smile. 

“No problem. Anyway, do you want to join us for movie night this Friday?” you extended your invitation to him. “You can pick the movie,” you offered. 

“Sure, I’d like that,” he grinned.

“Awesome”. 

~

Friday came around and you were all seated on your couch in the living room watching Spider-Man. 

You actually enjoyed the pick, especially watching the nerdy boy become the hero. One who reminded you a lot of the boy sitting right next to you. 

Miguel was on the recliner, Demetri on the other end of the couch, and Eli in the middle with you on the other side. Except, Eli was scooted closer to you, only a bowl of popcorn separating the two of you. 

Your hands happened to brush a lot when you’d reach for the popcorn. Though, you didn’t mind. 

You had gotten to the part where Peter Parker discovered his powers, a glass in your hand as you had come back from refilling your drink.

“That’s a cool painting,” Miguel noticed the piece of art framed by the TV. 

It was an oceanscape of the beach.

“Y/N painted it,” Eli stated.

“No kidding,” Miguel said in amazement, standing up to study it. “You’re really talented, Y/N,” he smiled over to you. 

“Thanks, that was my first one so my parents framed it,” you shyly said. 

“You should see her sketchbook, it’s filled with the most awesome things,” Eli smiled.

You glanced at him, sending him a thankful look. 

“Can I see?” Miguel’s eyes beamed. “My yaya loves paintings, I’d love to show her your work,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ll grab some that you could take pictures of,” you stood up, cheeks on fire. 

It wasn’t often that you got praised for your art, mainly from your parents or your friends. So this was new. But you took the pleasure from it nonetheless. 

Heading to your room, you grabbed a few of your favorite paintings before you went to your bag in search of your sketchbook, only you couldn’t find it. 

As panic erupted, you thought back to the last time you saw it. You had it in art class and then you went to P.E. You could’ve sworn you had it then, but you guessed you were wrong. 

“I can’t find my sketchbook,” you gulped, walking back to the living room. 

“Maybe you left it in your locker or someone found it and took it to the lost and found,” Miguel offered, gesturing with his hands. 

“Yeah, it’ll turn up,” Demetri reassured. “I don’t think anyone would have wanted to steal it,” he shrugged.

“We’ll help you find it on Monday,” Eli said, reaching for your hand.

“Thanks, guys,” you blew out your breath.

You were glad you had them and you really hoped your sketchbook turned up. 

Part of you didn’t want to think about it, but you were worried about who had it if they did. And it only traced back to two girls.

~

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[idv-sunsxin3]

Diggers // Dating Headcanons

Note// I gotta write this since i successfully managed to bring him home;;; 🥺

____

Diggers is canonly a hippie. He is based on them, his voice lines often tell how peace is better than war- I don't have the mind to interpret him with many kinds of hippies stereotypes because I'm still skeptical about some things that I don't even know better- 🤔🫠

There may even be misunderstandings because it actually really happened to the hippies from the 60s sometimes -

Diggers cherishes the times he gets to talk with you, always looking forward to seeing every day and getting to know you...

He is even eager to share his passions while he learns to understand yours as well. He has always been accepting and non-judgmental, ever since you first met. No matter the flaws.

It's probably how he treats everyone because of his moral standards- but it's also more than that... because it's you.

He definitely senses something different about you the moment your fingers touched..

You're his muse, "the sunlight from the mornings, the starlight of the night.... his whole universe." Yes, he said that to you once once--- 😭🫠🥺

But well, he loves showing some of his works of art - well, only the ones he managed to keep. He most likely does graffiti and flower power aesthetics.

Imagine there is a time you two painted a mark of your initials inside a heart with a paint spray on the same bench you both sat in where you first met each other--- it would be fate for sure smh;;;;

Hangouts usually would be staying with him at the back of his van with the doors open, so the windy day can go through. You sometimes lay down on the carpet he places down. You would hear him play his guitar as he sits across from you, serenading you with his slow, soothing tunes.

The sight of the grassfield's landscape can be seen from the van's back seat, along with the small silhouette of London from afar. Once Diggers stops playing, he tends to place his hand on your head and give it headpats... slowly massaging your scalp after as you try to stay awake.

He loves pampering you in his own way, letting you rest with him during lazy days.

He is a sweet, laid-back lover... He trusts you enough that his jealousy levels are low to none just by simply thinking of the many things that can make you feel safe and happy with him- having himself being part of your life is already an honor to him.

But of course, I can imagine he would be like a kicked puppy whenever you ignore him for too long... like not seeing for 3 days can already make him feel droopy;;;

You'll do a lot of outdoor activities with Diggers when dating him-- he would always say things like like "be one with the forest" or "connect with mother nature" while making you these pretty flower crowns to adorn them on your head,,,

Camping in a forest is one of the common things you two do, Diggers knowing lots of things about how to survive in the wild while only having his van as a refuge.

Don't underestimate for his slender figure!!! He can even name you many kinds of herbs, flowers, and berries. Even point out the ones that are venomous or poisonous. He can't do math or this deep insight science, but at least he is knowledgeable in certain fields.

This is just me, but I love a Diggers giving his s/o the passenger princess treatment. No more questions/ih

He talks to you in a very honeyed and flowery voice, you don't even know if he's ever angry at you even while being this upset---(to be true, he never brings himself to be angry at you-- it wouldn't be cool) With how he calls you "Honey", "Baby ", "Love", and so much more, you'll probably need a sleeping bag because man, his voice;;;

He is very affectionate - maybe a bit touchy even. Lots of hugs, kisses, hands on the small of your back, waist, or hip - he always has this tendency of keeping a hand on you when you're around.

If you give him the consent(because consent is beautiful✨️), he doesn't feel embarrassed when pulling you to his lap or holding you so close from behind around anyone.

His holds are meant to be pure and innocent. Having your bodies touch helps him charge his batteries from any stress he ever has to experience in a fast-faced world you both are living in.;;😔

He always likes to carefully plant soft kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, hands, and shoulder,,, (neck if he really wants to make out with you;;; 👉👈 *gets bonked for not being normal *) Lots of smooching when he finds the lovely opportunity.

He is 100% honest with you, never lies at all. Even would tell you his honest opinions in a sincere, half-hearted manner. Otherwise, it would be against his principles of a peace and love relationship. He wants to love you unconditionally no matter the future struggles that may happen between you two. Always avoiding toxicity and any form of hate towards you.

He loves taking care of his body, eating natural and non-processed food as possible, and going on vegetarian diets. He wants to share his little routines with you, if you want to, of course,,, it is pretty much a way he shows that he enjoys living life with you and taking care of you if you allow him to once in a while. It's like a sign of building trust for him. 🥺

It's so cute when he wants to try and persuade you to try these vivid color clothes with lots of patterns on it, even having these flower matching Keychains.;;

No matter the path you want to go to, he'll always support you and your choices,,, he'll encourage you to do anything your heart desires to achieve, as long as you're true to yourself. 🥺✨️

Overall! He is such a walking green flag. What else can I say to support that? You probably might have more ideas, and the floor is always open for them, my friends 😌✨️💅

[arpmemething2]

Quotes from Firefly/Serenity Sentence Starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

“Let’s go be bad guys!”

“Ten percent of nothin’ is … let me do the math here … nothin’ into nothin’ … carry the nothin’ … ”

"We’re crooks. If everything were right, we’d be in jail.”

"Nothing buys bygones quicker than cash."

“Like woman, I am a mystery.”

“Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature.”

“Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.”

“Well, maybe I’m not a fancy gentleman like you, with your … very fine hat. But I do business. We’re here for business.”

"How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?"

"Um, I’m trying to put this as delicately as I can…how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?"

"Go to blackout! We're being buzzed!"

"Well, I guess death will solve the issue to everyone's satisfaction."

"Everybody plays each other. That's all anybody ever does. We play parts."

“Did something just fly off my gorram ship?”

"You guys had a riot... on account of me? My very own riot?"

“We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.”

"It's been a big day, what with the abduction, and all."

"I'm not sure you'd be safe."

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

"Seems like a lovely little community of kidnappers."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're exactly where you ought to be."

“Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue?”

"If you take sexual advantage of her, you will burn in a very special level of hell. The kind they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."

"Go play with your rainstick."

"Don't make yourself sick."

“Mercy is the mark of a great man.”

"I don't suppose you'd find it up to the standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less... petty theft and getting hit with pool cues."

"You gonna give us what's due us and every damn thing else on that boat. And I think maybe you gonna give me a little one-on-one time with the misses."

"I cannot abide useless people."

"Mmm. You missed a spot."

“Man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything … ”

"This is the place. We'll buy you the time."

“Also? I can kill you with my brain.”

“Psychic, though? That sounds like something out of science fiction.”

"It’s not embarrassing to be a virgin. It’s simply one’s state of being."

"That's why I never kiss 'em on the mouth."

"I been waiting for you to kiss me since I showed you my guns."

"I'll be in my bunk."

"They don't like it when you shoot at 'em. I worked that out myself."

"Drunks are so cute."

“Going on a year now, nothins twixed my neathers not run on batteries.”

"He's not wildly interested in ingratiating himself with anyone, yet he's very protective of his crew. It's odd."

"How we treat our dead is part of what makes us different…than those did the slaughtering."

“The important thing is the spices. A man can live on packaged food from here ’til Judgment Day if he’s got enough rosemary.”

"I think you have a problem with your brain being missing."

"Okay! Everybody not talking about sex, in here. Everybody else, elsewhere."

“First rule of battle, little one … don’t ever let them know where you are.”

“Terse? I can be terse. Once, in flight school, I was laconic.”

"Don't you just love this party? Everything's so fancy and they have some kind of hot cheese over there!"

"I hate to bring up our imminent arrest during your crazy time, but we gotta go."

“I don’t think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar.”

"You can't open the book of my life and jump in the middle."

"I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."

“I aim to misbehave.”

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

"Every man there go back inside, or we will blow a new crater in this little moon."

“You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who’s in ruttin charge here.”

“I cannot abide useless people.”

"I I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed."

"You are very much lacking in imagination.”

"Call me if anyone interesting shows up."

"Very well-bred petty crook knows that the small concealable weapons always go to the far left of the place setting."

"This must be what going mad feels like."

"You don't seem to be lookin' at the destinations. What you care about is the ships, and mine's the nicest."

"Remember that sex we were planning to have, ever again?"

"Someone's carryin' a bullet for you right now, doesn't even know it. The trick is, die of old age before it finds you."

“If anyone gets nosy, just …you know … shoot ’em. “

“WHOO-HOO! I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT SOME O’ ME?! YEAH YOU DO! COME ON! COME ON! AAAAAH! Whoo-hoo!”

"I'll do anything you want me to. You know how I can make you feel."

"I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

“Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ’em right back!”

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but y'all got something that belongs to us, and we'd like it back."

“Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face.”

“I’ve been under fire before. Well … I’ve been in a fire. Actually, I was fired. I can handle myself.”

“I’ve been out of the abbey two days, I’ve beaten a lawman senseless, I’ve fallen in with criminals. I watched the captain shoot the man I swore to protect. And I’m not even sure if I think he was wrong.”

“In the maiden’s home, I heard talk of men who weren’t pleased with their brides…”

"Got your next heist planned?"

"It's good to be home."

"She still has the advantage over us."

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed."

"Yeah, but she's our witch."

“We’re not gonna die. We can’t die. You know why? Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.”

"Can you stop her from bein’ so cheerful?"

“How did your brain even learn human speech?”

“Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!”

"You are such a boob."

"You don't need strength as much as speed. We're fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut skin."

"Your mouth is talking. You might wanna look to that.”

"You guys always bring me the very best violence. "

"Every problem is an opportunity in disguise."

“We got some local color happening. A grand entrance would not go amiss.”

"I'm assumin' y'all were listenin'? Did you hear us fight?"

"I... I threw up on your bed."

"I swallowed a bug."

"I'm... trying to think of a way for you to be cruder. I just... it's not coming."

"It sounds like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to."

“Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.”

"I said you're a coward and a piss-pot. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

"You paid money for this, sir? On purpose?"

“I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.”

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

"You were truthful back in town. These are tough times. A man can get a job, he might not look too close at what that job is. But a man learns all the details of a situation like ours... well... then he has a choice."

"So you had to be naked?"

"So… are you enjoying your own nubile little slave girl?"

"Just keep walkin', preacher-man."

"We crashing again?"

“No power in the verse can stop me.”

"I know something ain't right."

“‘Course, there’re other schools of thought.”

"Can't miss a place you've never been."

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"Physical appearance doesn't matter so terribly. You look for compatibility of spirit. There's an energy about a person that's difficult to hide.You try to feel that."

"Can we fly somewhere with a beach?"

"What gives you the right to put her in a dangerous situation like this?"

"I think I've been kidnapped."

"Money wasn't good enough."

“Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle.”

"Is it bad that what she said made perfect sense to me?"

"See, morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like."

"What was that?"

"Well, you were right about this being a bad idea."

"Haven't you killed me enough for one day?"

"You save his gorram life, he still takes the cargo."

[rodolfoparras]

Wolverine pussyfucker here to fill in gravity falls lore info!

Stan got kicked out and sold sham products (Stan-vac: it sucks more than anything!) until he got a letter from ford telling him "hey pls pull up to my reclusive shack"

WELLLLLL FORD HAS BEEN BUSY!!

He accidentally summoned a dream demon from the second dimension named bill ciphwr and entered a toxic yaoi relationship where bill would use ford to try and get a physical manifestation while manipulating (and lowky falling in love) and ford was in love with him and referred ti him as a muse

Untillll they broke up and bill went a little wacky

So bill was using ford to build a portal to let him into the third dimension, byt ford was like "shit i need to destroy this" after they broke up so he was like "stan can you take my journals where i detail expressly how to build this portal and go a thousand miles away and never talk to me again"

Stan was pissed because "we havent talked since we were teens and now u want me to leave!? Frick you!!" And accidentally pushed ford INTO said portal, ending up with ford going through universes in an attempt to destroy bill and/or get home

Stan was like "shitballs i need to bring my brother home" and spent thirty years pouring over 2/3 journals and figuring out complex math and science while making as much money as possible to pour it into fixing up the portal because he loved his brother so much

WELLL he had 2 great nieces/nephews named mason/dipper and mabel, who pulled up to gravity falls when their parents were fighting one summer and dipper found the missing journal so stanley was like "hey =) fork it over =) i have GYAT to finish the portal"

MEANWHILE ford was becoming hot and doing interdimensional mercenary stuff and finally he was about to kill bill cipher when the portal opened back up and he was sucked back into gravity falls

But yeah stanley stole fords identity to fix the portal to bring ford home

If you held me at gun point and asked me what the show was about I’d never be able to come to this conclusion Jesus Christ I thought it was about two kids and a weird old man never ever would I guess this is the plot behind it

ALSO THE ROMANCE IS REAL?? I THOIGHT IT WAS A JOKE!! AND HE TRIED TO KILL HIM AG THE END??

And dear god poor Stan his whole life he’s just trying to make up for mistakes he’s made and they aren’t even small like hey get better at communicating with your brother no it’s hey fix this portal to bring ur brother home😭

[roadandruingame]

RaR Musings #21: The Crossroads of Simulation, Storytelling, and Fun

I'd had this one on a tab for a minute, because a lot of things happened and I've had a lot of time to think about things.

Exertion has done a lot to emblemize division between major game design philosophies.

On the one hand, a simulation-based game engine was necessary for a GM-less game, where creatures of theoretically infinite size difference could interact, in a way that everyone at the table can collectively intuit and agree on.

But, it did mean a lot more interaction with double-digit math, and 1m-wide tiles are far too granular to make the foundation of a "1 stamina = 1m movement, or swings 1 Size of weapon, for 1 damage" environment. Doing that math isn't fun, and held back use of storytelling as a driving force.

I transitioned to approximation-banding, and made only Tiring activities cost Exertion, shrinking the numbers so it was more about What Who was doing and Why, How, Where, and When it was supposed to happen if it wasn't Here. It meant you didn't actually even need a grid, or a map, instead keeping note of locations and settings by narrative impact, rather than how many spaces you had to move your little plastic man around the playmat.

But with the loss of specifics, questions about multiattack arise; how exhausting is it to attack more than once in a 3sec span? Anyone should be able to do it, and skill should have a positive impact, but how much does it change per weapon? It gets a little bit videogamey, in a completely different way than simulation is gamey, and in a way that has no mechanical consistency, leading to disagreements at the table.

More than that, are either of these systems even fun? While I have enjoy prompt-based creativity, and get a thrill when numbers come up in sub-1% statistical probabilities, that doesn't mean everybody will. And however it runs, it needs to be fun enough and easy enough to prevent players from suffering creative and emotional burnout, which leads them to becoming hesitant about sitting down for a session.

But I also, absolutely, abhor the recent trend of DND enthusiasts ignoring all the rules in favor of goofing off with friends. Having fun with your friends is good. Having fun with your friends while you play a game is great. Changing the rules of a game so that you have more fun playing it is fine. But dismissing the rules of a game wholesale to the point that they make zero impact on ANYTHING you can do? Why even pretend to play the game then?

Tabletop rpgs, unlike videogames, are work. Videogames don't progress unless you press buttons, but ttrpgs make you have to imagine the buttons and what they do, and require everyone present to agree on what the button actually does when you press it. Inventing these buttons has to be consistent, everyone should understand what happens when you press them, and everyone should enjoy the process of both making the buttons, and the fictional pressing of them.

You need to have fun, but simulation and storytelling are important for a game too.

___________________

I talked with two people of note lately.

The first was a prospective playtester, who (apparently, according to a third party) had no real interest in Road and Ruin, but still pursued me around multiple games of Warhammer 40k and ASOIAF to ask questions about it. And, as I so often do, I fell in love with my own game all over again. It's rapidly becoming my decade-long magnum opus, and everything it does is designed to excite me just as much as it is to entertain someone else. We ended up building him a Tatzl Plague Doctor, a plague-rat harpy unaffected by most diseases it carries, who travels the world transferring the diseases of others to himself, before bottling the diseases, and a Goblin Alchemist, part vampire, and pursuing science to one day rid themselves of the otherwise incurable disease. And, thanks to RAR's Story Roster, what is otherwise a nearly statistically-impossible task to discover at random, is given several boosts in probability, without guarantee, thanks to being a personal quest.

The second, was my dad. I owe my introduction to fantasy and sci-fi entertainment to him, and though he's never played a ttrpg, he's heard me complain about mechanics and players for years. His is the opinion that making a game that tries to do everything is senseless, and one should create a game to do one thing, specifically, and well. Many would agree with him. But his is also the opinion that if you force a player who enjoys Dungeons, to fight Dragons, that they'll absolutely hate it, and throw a tantrum over not getting to play the thing they joined the game for, and vice versa. A game that blends Dungeon players and Dragon fighters only stands to disappoint both parties, who will always end up playing something they don't want, eventually.

It's absurd, honestly.

Ttrpgs are a social fabric. Bringing the people who enjoy two different things together, to alternate their enjoyments, only strengthens the hobby, and ensures that it's easier to find people to play. By bringing this alchemist playtester into the fold, I get to see someone enjoying something they have an interest in, and work to make their quest come true. By joining with me, he gets to come along on my quest, and adding a little sprinkle of creativity that I'm not personally responsible for is just the kind of prompt I like in prompt-based creativity. The session becomes collaborative, between two or more people enjoying themselves, rather than confrontational, or one-sided legwork, which plagues the GM-dependent scene.

It's silly to disparage people on their preferences, but it's sillier to declare that other players couldn't possibly have something to improve your experience.

______________________

To that end, I think I have to lean heavier on variant rules.

Other games have them, but often, they're a little twist of math that alters the outcome slightly, or even devoid of mechanics at all.

No, I task myself with the rather silly task of creating a Simulation ruleset, and a Storytelling ruleset, based on the same variables and producing similar results. Players of simulation-like grid-based bookkeeping combat, as well as storytelling-focused, theater-of-the-mind, vague interactions, can come together and use the ruleset that they prefer, in order to get to play those Plague Doctor harpies and Vampire Alchemists.

As some say, the rules shouldn't get in the way of having a good time. But the rules should BE what someone USES to have a good time. And since my idea of a good time is different from someone else's, I should be just as welcoming of their preferences, as I ask that they are of mine.

The real risk is overcomplexity. Players already don't like having to learn one set of rules, much less variants of the same rules. There's every possibility that they balk when faced with the possibility of having to learn multiple types of rules for what amounts to the same game. But then, that's what the rules-lite version is for: the opportunity to completely ignore anything complex.

[melpcmene-arch]

🌻!!

new ask game, send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the hell i want ( always accepting! )

(*Most of these are spoilers. Not fully in detail, as I left a few major(?) details out for the sake of it. Minus Code Purple, which I just put a link in. But the rest is just assumptions of what I believe could've happened behind the scenes. Just to fill in the gaps. )

Since I did say that I was just going to say whatever I want about the Oaks— and Sparrow's muse is vibrating in my head. Code Purple was enacted by Sparrow. And I personally think he had so many reasons to do this. Though the main reason happened to be, if I remember correctly ( Though I think one day I'mma go back to Season Two and re-listen to a couple of episodes. ), was his child, Normal, who happened to be six around that time when it all went to hell. When that flesh monster was going to kill him. Sparrow had been planning to enact Code Purple for some time now. His education system was vast different than what Normal now experiences today. To live in a world that was very dangerous, and learning more than just simple maths and english. Sparrow is a druid, and most of his childhood was learning druid magic. ( I may end up going through certain spells up to level twenty to see what spells that Sparrow knows! ) But also learning how to handle a gun, though that is more of his twin's expertise than his. Aka Lark. ( Who I like to believe is more of a ranger than a druid, in my opinion. )

The Headquarters was both their place of operations, and maybe their own makeshift school. Because after ( though not intentionally ) unleashing the Doodler into their world. Their world is currently not safe. They had, as mentioned, flesh monsters, etc, inhabiting their world. Dangerous creatures. And aside from their own classes; maths, english, maybe a bit of science, anything that was mostly just essential in terms of what's more important when you have something terrible tainting your world, they also went on missions, learning from that kind of experience as well. It's simply just building up more of what I can imagine what happened because not a lot of is really that explained? More so when it comes to like, behind the scenes of what these kids who are now grown adults with their own families went through minus a few scenes.

But the main point is: Sparrow did not want Normal to go through that, nor wants Normal to get harmed by the monsters in this world. In a way, the Flesh Monster that was accidentally released from its containment was the incentive that Sparrow needed to do the swap. To have a substantial amount of safety in another world so that their lives could go back to normal? Not far from a long shot, but far enough that all the people ( minus a selective few ) have forgotten and simply believes that they live on Earth still. A somewhat normal Earth not knowing what has happened. Headquarters is still up and running, but not as great as before.

[rj-drive-in]

Drunk Science, Holiday Edition, Department:

Happy Holidays, brethren. I hope the Santas are good to you.

Also of note: The Arkham Bazaar Lovecraftian Micro-Fiction edition for 2023, featuring my story "Ambergris Morning," is now available right here!

THE SANTA SYMMETRY © 2023 by Rick Hutchins

The train was just pulling into the Harvard Square station when my phone issued a burst of music to alert me to a text message. I had it set to Rudolph in the spirit of the season. I rummaged it out of my pocketbook as I walked the crowded ramp to the turnstyles and saw a single-word message from Aleska.

“Vavoom,” said the text.

I groaned a little. She was drunk again.

Obviously the message didn’t make much sense, unless she was trying to tell me that she got lucky, but that only happened once in a blue moon. My first thought was that she was trying to say “barroom,” asking me to meet her at Grendel’s, but she never called it a barroom. Then I remembered that her safe word was “vaccine,” so maybe she needed help.

“?” I texted back to her, getting no response. Then I texted“??,” followed by “???” Nothing. “What do u mean?” I texted, but still got no reply.

It was irritating, but I knew I had to check in on her. She had been hitting the bottle pretty heavily lately, ever since her professor recruited her to work on some super secret grant-funded math project that she couldn’t talk about. It had her pretty stressed out and she had a history of self medicating. So I abandoned my shopping plans and called an Uber to pick me up at the info center where Out Of Town News used to be, and took it to her studio over on Tremont.

When I got there, she didn’t answer the buzzer, of course, so I let myself in. Her unit was at the back of the first floor. The first thing I saw upon entering was the mess on the kitchen counter. As I turned the corner, I saw the rumpled sheets and blankets and topsy-turvy laptop on the Murphy bed.

Then I saw Aleska.

There was an extra-large punch bowl sitting on the bar cabinet against the far wall, half full of red liquid. Aleska was standing in front of it, arms by her side, bent over, face planted in the juice, her head fully submerged.

“Oh, crap,” I said.

Rushing over, I grabbed her by the back of the neck and heaved her out of the punch, her strawberry blonde hair spraying red dots all over the walls. I eased her back down onto the couch. She didn’t appear to be breathing, but as I leaned in to give her mouth to mouth she coughed and sputtered back to life. Thank God. Her breath could have stopped a Fed Ex van in its tracks.

“I thought you were dead for a second there,” I said.

“Babe doll,” she replied groggily.

“Huh?”

“Paper towels,” she enunciated more carefully, sniffing.

“Oh, right!”

I grabbed a roll of paper towels from the kitchen corner and handed them to her. She wiped off her face and blew her nose, tossing the balled-up towel on the coffee table, where it joined some Baby Ruth wrappers, a fuchsia Nike sports bra, a home COVID test, and an empty bottle of Zubrowka. This woman is going to live alone forever.

“So why did you text me?” I asked.

She sat back on the couch, her heavy-lidded eyes blinking slowly and suspiciously. “Did I text you?” she asked.

“Yes, you did.”

“What did I say?”

“Vavoom.”

She frowned boozily. “Maybe I was horny. You wanna get laid?”

“Not unless you take two showers and gargle about a gallon of Listerine.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Too much trouble.”

“Think, Aleska, think,” I said. “Why did you text me?”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Vavoom. Oh, I know! The vacuum. I have to tell you about the false vacuum.”

“Okay. What about it?”

She patted my knee clumsily. “This is top secretive stuff,” she said. “I signed a non-disclositive agreement to not tell anyone. So don’t tell anyone.”

“Maybe you just shouldn’t tell me.”

“But I have to!” she said. “It’s crazy! It all started with Dr Mirmeier. Have you heard of Mirmeier?”

“Of course. He’s the genius who discovered the second decimal point in Pi. I had him in my sophomore year.”

“You never took Advanced Quantum Chromodynamics.”

“When I say I had him….”

“Never mind!” she said. “My stomach is already queasy. Anyways, Mirmeier did a Rainmann analysis of the Nosferatu quatrains.”

“The what now?”

“No, wait,” said Aleska with a puzzled look. “Nostradamus! He did a Rainmann analysis of the Nostradamus quatrains.”

“Okay.”

“And he developed a formula that was able to generate brand new quatrains from the square roots of Fibonacci numbers.”

“Say what? That’s insane.”

“It gets more that than that,” she replied, waving her finger in the air. “When Mirmeier accidentally substituted imaginary numbers for the Fibonacci numbers, the formula started generating new verses to ‘Jingle Bells.’”

“What?! Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

“I swear to gobs I’m not! And it’s going to get even crazier. When they got to the 137th verse, things started to get weird.”

“Weird how?”

Aleska sat forward on the couch, blinking hard, excited. “The verses started describing the fundamental nature of the universe!”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.”

“The first verse described the Big Bang. Then there was a verse that described the Inflationary Period and another one that described anti-matter asymmetry. Then there were verses that described the phase transitions of the unified force into separate interactions. They don’t even know what all of the verses mean, but all the ones they do understand check out.”

At this point, I was just staring at her like a deer in the headlights. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you know how crazy this sounds?”

“Shirt… um… certainly I do,” she said, sitting up straight and trying to act sober, and failing miserably. “And it gets even crazier, because this is where I got involved.”

“And how did you get involved?”

“As soon as the governmental caught heard of this, they put a big lid on it. Then they called in Professor Drummer for his expertise. I presume you know Professor Drummer.”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“He’s a smart old guy. You seem to like smart old guys. I should introjuice you.”

“Just go on!”

“Well, they recruited Drummer and so then he recruited me, because I’m so awesome at complex multi-axis equations.”

So smug. “When you’re sober,” I said wryly.

“Whatever way I am or was, I was able to crank those puppies out twice as fast as the professor. And when I got to verse 18,769, they started to make predictions.”

That sent a little bit of a chill down my spine. “Predictions of what?”

She leaned toward me, favoring her right eye. Maybe it was easier for her to focus one eye than both. “Future developments in the evolution of space-time.”

That left me speechless for a good thirty seconds.

“Such as…?” I ventured slowly.

She paused, possibly for effect. “Vacuum decay,” she said.

Oh. That. My throat went dry.

“When?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Imminently. Sort of like Betelgeuse. Any second or any century now.”

“And then the universe just vanishes.”

“But no!” she exclaimed, raising an index finger and teetering to the left. “Not neshish… nesser… ugh, necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

“False vacuum decay doesn’t have to mean the vacuum collapses. It all depends on whether it decays to a true vacuum or a lower-level false vacuum on the scalar field. A million things could happen. Maybe the Planck Length will shrink. Maybe monopoles will split. Maybe a new force will decouple from the unified field.”

“A fifth force?”

“Or sixth, if Dark Energy counts.”

“But the fine tuning….”

“Yeah, there’s more bad possibilities than good ones.”

“And this verse you generated doesn’t give any details or hints?”

She looked away to the left. “No.”

“And none of the subsequent verses elaborated?”

“She looked away to the right. “No.”

“Well,” I said. “Thanks for telling me. Now I get to live in constant terror for the rest of my life, however short that may be.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I had to tell someone.”

“All right,” I sighed. Who knew if I wouldn’t have done the same thing?

End of the world or not, I had to finish my shopping and get everything in the mail in less than two days. I made Aleska a cup of coffee and left her on the couch wrapped in a blanket with her usual promises to ease up on the booze.

My family is all on the West Coast and I don’t make friends easily, so I had planned to spend Christmas Eve alone at home. I was on my way back to my apartment in the late afternoon of that day when things started to get weird.

On the Red Line, I overheard a bunch of girls talking about flocks of birds falling out of the sky or flying into skyscrapers en masse. Standing in line at Starbucks, a couple in ugly sweaters were talking about mass whale beachings in San Diego and Virginia. And McMurdo, of all places. The woman in the apartment next to me was going out as I was coming in and mentioned that her uncle’s bees had all flown straight up into the air and never come down. By this time, a strong feeling of dread was growing in me.

Inside, I quickly turned on CNN, but they weren’t reporting about strange animal behaviors. They were reporting on the Earth’s magnetic field. Something was happening to it. Something strange and terrifying.

The US Geological Survey was reporting that the North magnetic pole had split and the two new poles were drifting apart at about five miles an hour. This is what was messing with the animals. The CNN anchors had brought a large standing compass onto the set and it was swaying back and forth like a metronome. I didn’t have a compass of my own to check for myself, but there was no reason to doubt it.

Was this the beginning of the reversal of the planet’s poles that scientists had long been predicting? They didn’t know. But I knew. This was the fallout of the false vacuum decay. Aleska must have been right about the monopoles.

A sense of panic crept into the anchors’ voices as they reported on related stories from around the globe. A bright purple aurora borealis had appeared, visible as far South as Minneapolis. Internet blackouts were affecting large parts of Canada and most Scandinavian countries. UHF stations were off the air across the board. A ring of high-intensity lightning storms had formed around the equator. NASA had lost communication with several polar-orbiting weather satellites.

And NORAD was tracking two Santas!

[rifleseye]

Mun VS. Muse

Similarities:

Interests — We're both incredibly passionate about our interests! Perceptor's obviously got a special interest in science, and that's something I heavily relate to. And though I might not be a scientist myself I'm still very intrigued by science.

Low-Empathy — We've both got low empathy. That's to say that it's hard for us to relate to other people's feelings, and can actually feel uncomfortable in situations where that might be seen as the proper thing to do.

Eye Problems — I wear glasses. He wears that reticle. I don't really have to go into detail about this one.

Metallurgy — We both work with metal! Though my time working with metal was limited and more or less for the artistic side of it, it's still something I wanna get more into. (Also it's amazing how much you learn about the chemical compounds that make up metal when you work with it. Very hands-on.)

Absent-Minded — Percy and I are often described as absent-minded, when really we're just focusing and fixating on what we're doing to the point everything else becomes background noise.

Emotionally Stunted — Don't gotta go into detail in this. Says it on the tin.

Blunt — We're both really blunt, and it's not because we're mean (though it's often misinterpreted as such) but rather that tone is both difficult and that we try to be as concise and to the point as possible. No need to play mind games in communicating.

Strong Ethics — We both feel very strongly about our morals. Percy's more focused on scientific ethics while I'm really into ethical philosophy tho :P

Near Death Situation — Yeah.

Dissimilarities:

Intelligence — Perceptor's waaaaaaaay smarter than I am on an academic level. I wanted to pursue science as a kid but math was a huge barrier to it so I went into the arts instead.

Dyscalculia — I cannot for the life of me understand math. Percy's a mathematician.

Creativity — I'm an artist, not a scientist. I'd like to think I'm good at it too. Meanwhile I think the only art Percy ever does is drawing up graphs and blueprints.

Height — I mean. I'm 5'4. He's 36'.

Neurosis — Percy's OCD is a bit more towards the cleanliness side of things. Whereas he keeps his space organized to the point of having a spartan area, I'm much more messier. (I'd go more into why he acts that way but I'll save that for an hc post :P)

Metal vs. Organic — Pretty obvious.

War Vet — Percy's one, I'm not.

tagged. @aircommndr

[abronzeagegod]

Untitled YA Project Chapter 3: Step One Hypothesis, Step Two Experiment

First Chapter || More

11:48 AM local time

Chicago, Algonquin State, United States of America

“No way, you’re messing with me,” Mike said to Justin as they sat in their chemistry lab. “There’s no way sound just… doesn’t exist in your house.”

“I’m telling you that’s exactly what happened,” Justin tried to justify his story.

They were lab partners, which worked out for the both of them. Justin was very smart when it came to chemistry, so Mike lucked out because Mike was very bad at math and science. And Mike was the perfect lab partner for Justin, because he didn’t complain when Justin finished things early and then got bored and messed around with the extra stuff and usually made a mess.

“I don’t believe you even for a second. What did your dad say?” Or not say since he couldn’t say anything you would hear.”

Justin gave Mike a flat expression as he held an eye dropper over the beaker he was experimenting with. “He doesn’t really talk much in the mornings any more, not since mom left.”

“Right. Sorry,” Mike hastily said. “So you want me to come over and check it out after school?”

“Don’t you have football practice or something?”

Mike shrugged. “Only in the technical sense.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I do have practice, but only if I show up.”

Justin finished his own handmade mixture that was definitely not on the syllabus and eyed it suspiciously for a few moments. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen but the most that could be said was that the glass was slightly warmer than it was before.

“You don’t want to go today?” Justin asked. “I thought you liked football.”

“I do, but sometimes you just need a break. And your thing sounds way more interesting.”

“I could definitely use the help,” he told Mike, as he stirred the mixture to see if that would change anything. When nothing did, he shrugged and made sure to dispose of it properly.

Thankfully the bell rang, ending the class, and signalling that Mike and Justin could both go to lunch.

“Thank god,” Mike said. “I’m starving!”

“You’re always starving.”

“I’m a growing boy!”

After they put their stuff away and made it to the lunch room, Justin picked up their previously abandoned conversation. “I don’t know what’s going on at my house. And once you realize that you can’t hear anything it’s really creepy.”

“Well you didn’t blow up anything in lab today, so we don’t have detention, that means we’ve got the whole afternoon open.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Justin pouted a little.

He didn’t actually want to cause damage, he just wanted something exciting to happen once in a while. Sometimes there was that impulse thought in his head that told him it would be fun to get into trouble, to break stuff, to yell and get loud, and just be noticed for a minute. But what was really the point? He would just get yelled at, told to stop doing what he was going, and then have to spend entirely too much time staring at the wall in detention.

Mike clapped Justin on the shoulder. “Next time we can blow something up real nice. Just when we don’t have a mystery to investigate at your house.”

Justin laughed, once. “You always know just what to say.”

“Oh! You know what we should do to prepare?”

“What?”

“Learn sign language! Like Ashley and Kit did back in sixth grade so they could talk during class. I wonder if they still remember it,” Mike mused. “I’ll be right back. Hey! Kit! You still know sign language?”

Justin just shook his head as Mike took off. He was always doing a million different things, rushing off to go do whatever struck his fancy next. But he was a loyal friend, even if Justin didn’t understand him all that much sometimes.

Mike was very outgoing and Justin was not. Mike did sports and made friends with everyone, Justin preferred to stay inside and play videogames or build little robots with the various LEGO kits he managed to get his hands on.

Lunch finished with Mike learning some quick sign language from Kit at another table, and Justin packed up his stuff. He waved a quick goodbye to Mike and headed off to the second half of his classes: history, english, and geometry.

He barely paid attention in history. They had just gotten to the start of the Louisiana Purchase and the wars it caused in 1808. He knew it was objectively important stuff, because he lived in one of the states that was made as part of the treaties and truces made after the slow defeat of the United States by the various Native American tribes and their various allies, most notably the bee people, the zlilfians down in the Caribbean. But he was still thinking about his house and the silence that surrounded it.

“Mister Oswada,” his history teacher said after the bell rang and the other students started to filter out of the class, “you seem particularly distracted today. Did you get yourself into trouble once again?”

Justin stopped a few feet away from Mister Collins’ desk.

He was one of the older teachers, probably in his early seventies, and it showed on his face. Amidst the wrinkles stood a few scars across his face that probably predated said wrinkles. His wispy grey hair gave Mister Collins an eccentric look, only enhanced by his bright green eyes. He’d look more at home in a science or math class, but instead he was a simple history teacher. He was also one of the smartest teachers, who knew almost everything asked of him, wawa never surprised by anything any students did or tried, and of every teacher, Mister Collins was one of the few who truly understood technology and whatever new things the kids were into.

Mister Collins patiently waited for an answer, looking at Justin over the rim of his round glasses.

“No, I didn’t. Not today,” Justin responded. “Something happened at home this morning and it’s been on my mind, that’s all.

Mister Collins took off his glasses. “Mister Oswada,” he said slowly. “I understand that things have been difficult and not the best at home for you. But there are people who are willing and able to help if you need it. You just need to ask.”

“Yeah. Cool. Thanks,” Justin said because he wasn’t sure what else to say to that. “I’m gonna go to my next class now.”

The history professor could only nod and let Justin go.

Next was English and he paid even less attention in that class. They were supposed to be analyzing a work by some New Englander about something or other in a time like a century ago, but Justin didn’t really like the first two pages so he didn’t read the rest. There were more pressing thoughts in his head today.

Then it was just a geometry test that he should have done much better on, but he was still extremely distracted. He didn’t really care all that much, he knew he did badly so what was the point of dwelling on it?

The second that the bell rang dismissing class, Justin ran to his locker, threw all of his books in it, and then put on his jacket.

But for all of his rushing to get out of school and back home to study this weird silence, he had to wait for Mike for almost fifteen minutes.

“You ready to go?” Mike asked from behind him, coming from a direction Justin did not expect.

“What did you do to your shoulder?” Justin asked, pointing at Mike’s right shoulder that had an ice pack on it.

“Oh I told my coach that I strained it in gym class this morning, and that I definitely failed that geometry test so I should try to make it up. Can’t play football if I’m injured and failing,” Mike said with a proud smile.

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble doing that one of these days.”

“Probably. But you’re not one to tell me about getting into trouble. Besides, we’ve got much more interesting things to investigate. I’m really curious about this house and silence thing you’re talking about.

They elected to not take the bus and instead walk the little over a mile to Justin’s house. The entire walk, Mike was on his phone looking up explanations for the quiet that was only around Justin’s house.

“Localized low pressure system,” Mike said as he scrolled through the now fourth page of results on google.

“I don’t think that’s how pressure works.”

“Are you doubting the veracity of freakweatherforums dot blogspot dot com?” Mike asked, his voice filled with fake outrage and hurt. “And I thought we were best friends.”

“We are. And yes, I am doubting the truth of your website.”

“How dare you! Engelbert here has spent minutes making this blog, and you just come in here and tell him that he is wrong? Have you no shame sir?”

Justin rolled his eyes, but couldn’t entirely suppress the chuckle.

“Oh this is a good one! From an alien sighting website! This is claiming that your house has been invaded by a secret eldritch alien life form that has no form or substance but feeds on noise and will grow and expand until it consumes all life on earth rendering it a silent, empty, husk.”

“Jesus,” Justin breathed out. “Well, I apologize to Engelbert. His theories make way more sense.”

Mike laughed as he finally put away his phone. “Well, we’re here.” They stopped on the sidewalk just outside of Justin’s house. “You ready to go inside?”

“I think so. This is so weird,” Justin said as he stared at his house. “It looked so normal.”

Justin had this concerned, sinking feeling that the silence he experienced this morning was gone, that Mike would think him crazy, maybe even stop being his friend because of it.

“This was stupid, let’s go,” Just said, quickly turning away from his house.

“Oh come on, let’s at least go in,” Mike said as he walked the opposite direction, towards the house and away from Justin.

Justin turned around to watch him, and about halfway down the sidewalk to his front door, Mike suddenly stopped. He turned around to look at Justin. He could see Mike’s mouth moving, he could tell that his friend was speaking. And then yelling. Mike’s face was starting to go red from the effort of screaming and being loud, but just heard nothing.

After a few more moments of that, Mike returned to where Justin was standing. “That is freaky. Oh. I don’t like that at all. You were so right. This is weird.”

“Really weird.”

“Now what?”

“Well.” He had thought this far ahead, but now that he was here it seemed so much more real. And a little scary. “I want to go inside and get some stuff. I’ve got some equipment I want to use to try and measure how big this thing is.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got a little portable radio and I finally rebuilt my RC car I got for Christmas two years ago. I figure we put the radio on the car, turn up the volume, and then move the car around, trying to mark down where the silence… field… thing extends to. Then maybe do some stuff to try and record sound inside of the field and outside to see if we can find any volumes or frequencies that pierce it.”

“That’s all just off the top of your head?” Mike asked with a little smile.

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Let’s do it then,” Mike said as she threw his bookbag on the front lawn and followed Justin into the silence and the house.

Moving through his home felt eerie and surreal. It was his home, he knew that. But it lacked something essential. It was like a slightly warped copy of his house. There was something subtly wrong with this place, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He felt tired and alone and a little cold. The whole place made Justin just want to lay down.

He jumped when he felt something touch his shoulder.

Mike tapped him, and Justin practically jumped out of his skin.

The reaction was only physical, the yelp died before it could be formed. The silence had smothered it.

Then it all clicked back in his head. Justin remembered what they were doing.

Moving quickly now, they grabbed a bunch of equipment from Justin’s haphazard and messy room, and then from the garage.

Back outside they both took a few deep breaths and Mike even spent a minute trying to pop his ears as an attempt to undo the unsettling feeling that settled on them as part of the whole experience.

“That felt so weird and creepy and I don’t care for that at all,” Mike said.

“I know. It feels so… oppressive,” Justin said. “And depressing.”

“Yeah,” agreed Mike. “You still want to measure this thing?”

“I do, but I don’t want to step foot in there for very long.”

“Yeah, me either.”

For the next two hours, Justin and Mike measured the field of silence around the house. They marked the borders with chalk on the sidewalk or by planting sticks upright in the lawn. They even took several audio recordings inside the field and across the field.

They found out that there is no sound inside of the field nor anything that can be heard through the field. Nothing penetrates it one way or the other.

“I really don’t like this,” Justin muttered. “But it is fascinating.”

Mike was laying on the cold sidewalk, claiming he was trying to cool his fried brain. Suddenly he stood up. “You know, I give up. I’m posting this on the internet. Someone out there must know what’s happening. Let’s do the RC car and the radio thing again.”

Justin shrugged, he didn’t see how that was going to help, but he turned up the radio once more, stuck it to the back of the RC car and started driving it in circles in and out of the silence field.

“Hey, I’m at my man Justin’s house, and check out this freaky nonsense happening. There’s no sound around here. I’m losing my mind,” Mike narrated. “What’s happening?”

He filmed the little car running around, music blasting loudly, and then suddenly getting cut off as it passed the small stick fence. Even the whine of the little motor powering the RC car wheels gets cut off.

“Someone please tell me what is happening!” Mike pleaded on the video as he finally cut it off. He posted it online and waited for someone to give him an easily explainable answer.

A few seconds after the video got post Mike got the first comment.

“Fake lol”

“Helpful,” Mike said out loud to the comment.

But then suddenly he got a notification that the video was removed.

“What the hell?” Mike said. “They took down my video for some reason!”

Before Justin could ask what was happening his own phone started ringing. He was getting a call from an unlisted number.

my kofi where i post everything

[defaultjane]

Getting to know your Mutuals

I was tagged by @celemee, thank you for the tag! ^_^

What's the origin of your blog's title? I think "The musings of a narcissistic drama queen" is pretty self-explanatory. xD

Favorite Fandoms: Resident Evil, Horizon (Zero Dawn), Dragon Age, Mass Effect

OTP(s) + shipname: Helena Harper x Ingrid Hunnigan (Hunniper), Leon Kennedy x Claire Redfield (Cleon), Elisabet Sobeck x Tilda Van der Meer (I don't think they have a shipname), FemShep x Samantha Traynor (Shaynor)...and a ton more. xD

Favorite color: A really deep, dark, rich colors of red, blue, and purple.

Favorite game: Just the one? Resident Evil 2 (1998)

Song stuck in your head: A little thingy I made up to remember what I need to buy from the store. It goes like this: "Oranges, milk, soup veggies, eggs". And I just realized I forgot the soup vegetables. Dang it!

Weirdest habit/trait? I think a lot of my habits and traits are probably weird but no one witnesses it, so I don't know. Probably my strict routines because if I have none, everything falls apart.

Hobbies: Music, writing, gaming.

If you work, what's your profession? Officially, my title is "optimizing, revenue, and inventory manager", which is a fancy way of saying I'm one of the assholes partially responsible for the fact that there are ads on radio and podcasts in my country.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would love to be a farmer. Alas, it's a thankless job I couldn't afford.

Something you're good at: Coming up with perfectly justifiable excuses for indulging bad habits.

Something you're bad at: So many things. Like, I am so stupid it would be funny if I weren't still smart enough to know just how stupid I am.

Something you excel at: Writing dialogue.

Something you love: Excluding the obvious, I love music. And cold weather, space, water, candles, my gadgets and appliances (oh you bet I've named my computer and my dishwasher).

Something you could talk about for hours without off the cuff: I don't know, I'm more of a listener than a talker. Resident Evil-lore, perhaps?

Something you hate: Bad men. We all know of at least one, most likely more than one.

Something you collect: Names that I think are cool. I write them down and maybe use them in stories.

Something you forget: That some people are just selfish and dishonest. I know it sounds naive but I'm often pulling a surprised Pikachu-face when I realize that I've been dealing with someone who was just rotten because I forget that not everyone has good intentions.

What's your love language? Love languages aren't real, they were invented by guys who used them to condemn women into servitude by convincing them that women’s love language is acts of service. Change my mind.

Favorite movie/show: Oh, my goodness, there are so many. But to name just a couple that I could watch (and have watched) over and over...Terminator 2, Misery, Fried green tomatoes, The Golden Girls, Archer, The Simpsons (early stuff), Law and Order SVU (also the early stuff).

Favorite food: I don't really have one. I guess if I had to say something, I'd say...Potato. Give it to me in any shape or form and I'll eat it.

Favorite animal: Give me any one of the felidae family.

Are you musical? Yes.

What were you like as a child? Horrible and stupid. Haven't gotten better since. xD

Favorite subject at school? Biology and science.

Least favorite subject? From grades 1-6, it was math. From 7-9, gym. I didn't get better at math, but gym got worse because it went from playing baseball and basketball and field hockey, etc. to girls having to do gymnastics and aerobics and stupid shit like that while boys got to keep on playing games.

What's your best character trait? Humor.

What's your worst character trait? Anger. I can get irrationally angry over the stupidest shit, like real first world problems-type of shit. Thankfully, I don't stay angry, but it's just dumb to get mad over things like Coca Cola introducing a shitty new flavor. Just put cocaine back in it or leave it alone.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? I would've remembered to buy the damn soup vegetables which were the reason I went to the store in the first place.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Julia Child sounds like she would've been fun to hang out with.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics. Just one??? there are so many great ones I've read over the years. Randomly pulling one out of the hat... to hear the nightingale (sing on, as if in pain) by ink_kettle. It has some of the best characterization I've ever read.

[lowreyglobalconsultants]

Nominication for study?

For those unfamiliar with the expression 'nominication,' it is a Japanese portmanteau of the words 'nomu' meaning to drink and 'komyunike-shun' or communication in English. It refers to the phenomenon of enjoying communication over a drink and is a large part of Japanese culture.

Sometimes people I have met have mused over the idea of a lesson held while drinking to enjoy English communication. Overall my instinct has always been that this is an ineffective way to study, as the best way to take away results from an English lesson is through active involvement. This includes speaking and asking questions which we will achieve in a nominication- based lesson, but it also involves writing notes and clarity of mind to put together information and new language usage opportunities. I typically chuckle and say, 'good idea' because I know these spontaneous ideas rarely come to fruition.

That opinion is formed from the core of what I believe and how I plan my language lessons, but the problem is that there actually may be some benefit to such sessions. As a student of Japanese, early on I spent time making word lists, reviewing grammar points and writing out the same kanji (Japanese version of Chinese written characters) but I could barely communicate. Part of that problem was fear, but the other half was a lack of practice. It wasn't until I joined the local festival and a Bon Odori (traditional Japanese dance to honor the recently departed) called Enshu Dainenbutsu that I started to get some practice and grow my speaking skills. On top of this, my son started soccer and I took care of driving him and cheering for him, so I had many chances to interact with other parents. I discovered that after a couple of beers I was able to communicate more and it helped me make bigger steps in my speaking ability. A Time magazine article cites a research done by British and Dutch scientists where they concluded that there is a positive influence on foreign language skills after a few drinks (not too many!)

The reason is simple enough to imagine. When we are under the influence, we worry less and we speak more freely. By eliminating the overthinking factor, I found I could have longer conversations and activate words that I had thought I had forgotten. There is also room to experiment and, if we manage to ensure that we don't drink too much, we can stay aware of people's reactions and grow. I feel a reason why this can help is that language is more than math, more than science, there is an artistic element to it as well. The brain needs to grow on many different plains to increase our aptitude and confidence, which is such an important factor in reaching the next steps in communication.

So does this sway my hardliner opinion? A little. I still think structured lessons and practice are essential, especially in a business context. However students could separately enjoy the occasional session with a private teacher or language group which may help give the students a judgement free environment in which to practice their speaking capabilities. Even some classes I have taught like to have a seasonal party to relax and enjoy English communication, but a class still needs to be centered in a classroom with a pen or pencil in your hand.

[just-a-bookish-reader]

Back to School Readathon 2023

Starting a few days after the fall semester starts for my university, Liv is helping to host another readathon, except that this one is not 24 hours, its almost a week long! With both reading prompts and photo prompts, each based on particularly school themed events and classes, there is about to be so much going on from August 25-August 31!

Unlike the graphic novels and manga readathon, I do not plan to try to read more than the books I'm selecting for each reading prompt this time, unless I read way faster than I'm expecting! As far as the photo prompts, based on the spirit week we all know and love, we don't actually have to dress up or even have our faces in any of the photos! As mentioned in Liv's announcement video, you can simply use props to do flat lays with books, and I'll be mentioning one that I'm already planning out (and will likely take the picture super ahead of time!).

Gwen has put out some awesome movie suggestions for the "study hall" prompt as well, specifying that the prompt is just that the movie needs to take place in a school, not necessarily a dark academia or anything like that (literally you can watch High School Musical even!) and if you are a patron of Gwen, she'll be hosting a live viewing of Heathers!

While there are enough prompts for a full school day, there is no particular order required or even recommended to my knowledge of how to follow each prompt. It certainly is not expected for you to knock out more than one prompt in one day unless your second prompt is the "study hall" aka movie prompt!

Here are some examples that I had to sift through of my own books to narrow down to my final selections!

English

Sirens & Muses by Antonia Angress

My Last Innocent Year by Daisy Alpert Florin

The Whispering Dark by Kelly Andrews

I Kissed Shara Wheeler by Casey McQuiston

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik

Only a Monster by Vanessa Len

Ink Blood Sister Scribe by Emma Torzs

Margo Zimmerman Gets the Girl by Brianna R. Shrum

Dear Medusa by Olivia A. Cole

The Cloisters by Katy Hays

Bunny by Mona Awad

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

Ordinary Monsters by J. M. Miro

Math

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Two Dark Reigns by Kendare Blake

The Second Death of Edie and Violet Bond by Amanda Glaze

The First Bright Thing by J. R. Dawson

Seven Faceless Saints by M. K. Lobb

One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater

The Six Deaths of the Saint by Alix E. Harrow

Master of One by Olivie Blake

One For My Enemy by Olivie Blake

The Square of Sevens by Laura Shepherd-Robinson

The Second Sight of Zachary Cloudesley by Sean Lusk

Once a Queen by Sarah Arthur

Physical Education

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen

We Are the Song by Catherine Bakewell

Sing Me to Sleep by Gabi Burton

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson

Lunch

The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

The London Seance Society by Sarah Penner

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

Heartless by Marissa Meyer

Science

Red Dust, White Snow by Pan Huiting

Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan

The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan

Dragonfall by L. R. Lam

The Sun and The Void by Gabriela Romero-Lacruz

Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko

How High We go in The Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu

All the Dead Lie Down by Kyrie McCauley

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner

The Midnight Girls by Alicia Jasinska

Book of Night by Holly Black

Study Hall

Grease

Love, Simon

Easy A

Edge of Seventeen

Legally Blonde

The Breakfast Club

High School Musical

Superbad

Booksmart

Dead Poet Society

Heathers

Social Studies

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Weyward by Emilia Hart

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth

Furyborn by Claire Legrand

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

First Bright Thing by J. R. Dawson

Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland

How High We Go in The Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu

Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge

Final Results:

English:

A Lesson in Vengeance by Victoria Lee

Math:

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

PE:

A River Enchanted by Rebecca Ross (activity is music)

Lunch:

Poison by Bridget Zinn

Science:

How High We Go in The Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu

Social Studies:

Weyward by Emilia Hart

Art:

Nimona

Study Hall:

Easy A

[themuseandantarctica]

* 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒑𝒕. 21

change however necessary.

“Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.”

“Mother’s love is peace.  It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved.”

“I loved my mother from the day she died.”

“You do not have to deserve your mother’s love.  You have to deserve your fathers.  He’s more particular.”

“I wish people would love everybody else the way they love me.  It would be a better world.”

“Love is the delightful interval between meeting a beautiful girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock.”

“Love affairs have always greatly interested me, but I do not greatly care for them in books or moving pictures.  In a love affair, I wish to be the hero, with no audience present.”

“At the beginning of a love affair, not even the neurotic is neurotic.”

“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”

“Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking.  The one is the shadow of the other.”

“Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath.  At night, the ice weasels come.”

“Luck is an essential part of a career in physics.”

“Nothing is as obnoxious as other people’s luck.”

“Shallow men believe in luck.  Strong men believe in cause and effect.”

“What luck for rulers that men do not think.”

“I’ve done the calculation and your chances of winning the lottery are identical whether you play or not.”

“What we call luck is the inner man externalized.  We make thinks happen to us.”

“I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have.”

“Luck affects everything.  Let your hook always be cast.  In the stream where you least expect it, there will be fish.”

“I’m so unlucky that if I was to fall into a barrel of nipples I’d come out sucking my thumb.”

“The foundation of all morality is to have done, once and for all, with lying.”

“Lying is done with words and also with silence.”

“We tell lies when we are afraid… afraid of what we don’t know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us.  But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger.”

“The most common lie is that which one lies to himself; lying to others is relatively an exception.”

“Man is only man at the surface.  Remove his skin, dissect, and immediately you come to machinery.”

“You cannot endow even the best machine with initiative; the jolliest steamroller will not plant flowers.”

“The most technologically efficient machine that man ever invented is the book.”

“It is so characteristic, that just when the mechanics of reproduction are so vastly improved, there are fewer and fewer people who know how the music should be played.”

“The amount of genuine leisure available in a society is generally in inverse proportion to the amount of labor-saving machinery it employs.”

“I sometimes wonder whether our planet is the asylum of the universe for disordered minds.”

“Every man is wise when attacked by a mad dog; fewer when pursued by a mad woman; only the wisest survive when attacked by a mad notion.”

“It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

“The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness.  Think of your three best friends.  If they’re okay, then it’s you.”

“I don’t suffer from insanity but enjoy every minute of it.”

“There is a pleasure in being mad which none but madmen know.”

“The history of saints is mainly the history of insane people.”

“All of us are mad.  If it weren’t for the fact that every one of us is slightly abnormal, there wouldn’t be any point in giving each person a separate name.”

“Insanity in individuals is something rare—but in groups, parties, nations, and epochs, it is the rule.”

“Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you.”

“What garlic is to salad, insanity is to art.”

“Be mad.”

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

“Using words to describe magic is like using a screwdriver to cut roast beef.”

“The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”

“When magic becomes scientific fact we refer to it as medicine or astronomy.”

“In the last analysis magic, religion, and science are nothing but theories of thought.”

“I am a member of a magic circle—the Secret Six—which is so secret that I don’t know the other five.”

“The secret of magnetism, now explain that to me!  There is no greater secret, except love and hate.”

“Magnetism is one of the Six Fundamental Forces of the Universe, with the other five being Gravity, Duct Tape, Whining, Remote Control, and the Force That Pulls Dogs Toward the Groins of Strangers.”

“Good manners: The noise you don’t make when you’re eating soup.”

“Good manners can replace morals.  It may be years before anyone knows if what you are doing is right.  But if what you are doing is nice, it will be immediately evident.”

“Clothes and manners do not make the man; but, when he is made, they greatly improve his appearance.”

“Manners are especially the need of the plain.  The pretty can get away with anything.”

“The married state is the most complete image of heaven and hell we are capable of receiving in this life.”

“Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they cannot be separated; often moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing anyone who comes between them.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead marrying a woman old enough to be my wife.”

“Love is blind and marriage is the institution for the blind.”

“The conception of two people living together for twenty-five years without having a cross word suggests a lack of spirit only to be admired in sheep.”

“I’ve been married so long I’m on my third bottle of Tabasco.”

“No man should marry until he has studied anatomy and dissected at least one woman.”

“The majority of husbands remind me of an orangutan trying to play the violin.”

“By all means marry.  If you get a good wife, you’ll be happy; if you get a bad one, you’ll become a philosopher.”

“Marriage is like a bank account.  You put it in, you take it out, you lose interest.”

“It doesn’t much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find out next morning that it was someone else.”

“I don’t think I’ll get married again.  I’ll just find a woman I don’t like and give her a house.”

“The thing of this world cannot be made known without a knowledge of mathematics.”

“Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are talking about.”

“Life is good for only two things, discovering mathematics and teaching mathematics.”

“We used to think that if we knew one, we knew two, because one and one are two.  We are finding that we must learn a great deal more about ‘and.’”

“Mathematics is the art of giving the same name to different things.”

“Beauty is the first test; there is no permanent place in the world for ugly mathematics.”

“In the arithmetic of the world, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.”

“In real life, I assure you, there is no such thing as algebra.”

“An equation for me has no meaning unless it expresses a thought of God.”

“The pleasure we obtain from music comes from counting, but counting unconsciously.  Music is nothing but unconscious arithmetic.”

“There can be mathematicians of the first order who cannot count.”

“Anyone who cannot cope with mathematics is not fully human.  At best he is a tolerable subhuman, who has learned to wear shoes, bathe, and not make messes in the house.”

“Mathematics is like drafts in being suitable for the young, not too difficult, amusing, and without peril to the state.”

“‘Obvious’ is the most dangerous word in mathematics.”

“If people do not believe that mathematics is simple, it is only because they do not realize how complicated life is.”

“The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings.”

“As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.”

“The laws of nature are but the mathematical thoughts of God.”

“If there is a God, he’s a great mathematician.”

“In most sciences one generation tears down what another has built and what one has established another undoes.  In mathematics alone each generation adds a new story to the old structure.”

“Why do we believe that in all matters the odd numbers are more powerful?”

“Uneven numbers are the gods’ delight.”

“Pure mathematics is the world’s best game.  It is more absorbing than chess, more of the gamble than poker, and lasts longer than Monopoly. It’s free.  It can be played anywhere—Archimedes did it in a bathtub.”