#is neat from a reader's perspective and a technical perspective

[oliviabutsmart]

Physics Friday #15 [DWQ]: Multiverse theories

Preamble: What is DWQ?

This is another mini-series that will be ongoing. Similar to opinion posts, there is another type of post that I want to explore.

DWQ - Dealing with Quacks (alternatively, Crackpots or Nuts)

Both crackpots and quacks are unified by what they do. They propose there is something "fundamentally wrong with physics" and that they have this new theory that will change everything.

Their theory is about some fundamental truth with the universe. That the "physics establishment" is constantly attempting to chase ridiculous theories because they don't want to accept reality.

A crackpot is someone who generally has expertise in physics, or a related field like chemistry or engineering. Often they are motivated by a desire for fame.

A quack is someone who has no experience in the field, often with a monetary interest in what they are selling.

"Nuts", which is short for "religious nuts" are those who promote their ideas out of faith and a desire to spread their beliefs. They are more likely to strawman existing ideas first.

I hope that you, the reader, can already understand why I don't like these people. They muddy the waters, mess around with science communication, and give the profession a bad rep. They also lie and pedal disinformation, which ends up acting as a gateway to more serious conspiracy theories within the medical or political realm.

It's also important to identify that this acts on a scale. Technically, some string theorists are a lite form of crackpot - particularly in the way they present their theories and ideas to the public.

But they are significantly more respectable than a flat-earther, or a self-help guru, or a evangelical apologist.

The Multitude of Multiverse theories, or the MultiMultiverse

Multiverse theor(ies) are usually strawmans made by religious fanatics. Think PragerU as a great example.

The argument goes like this:

Scientists have no empirical explanation for fine tuning or the reason for the existence of the universe

In order to explain it, they constructed multiverse theory to explain the source of it

By occam's razor, the simpler argument is the existence of a creator entity, that fine-tuned things for us

Of course you can see how bad the arguments are. The problem is of course that science hasn't accepted any multiverse theory.

Multiverse theories are neat explanations or consequences of other theories, but they are either limited in their explanatory power, or their efficacy to test.

But what are the multiple multiverse theories? Here's three that people claim are multiverse theories:

Many worlds interpretation (a QM thing, and only a multiverse theory in pop culture)

Inflation multiverse theory (one possible consequence of the cosmic inflation hypothesis)

Just an actual multiverse theory (arguable cosmic inflation can lie here)

Many Worlds Interpretation

I've already run through the main gambit of what the Everett interpretation is, so I'm going to tackle this from a pop sci perspective.

When you were younger, you might've heard that the many worlds interpretation literally means many worlds. That with every decision you make, you create a new seperate branching reality. And that multiple realities can simultaneously exist.

Of course, there is an issue with this. Mainly that there aren't multiple realities - there is just one reality, in a superposition of states.

This superposition dictates there is one reality, just that this reality is probabilistic. These realties aren't separated by physical space. It's just one big 'wavefunction'.

Decisions in the many worlds interpretations are also examples of when pop sci goes wrong. It's not necessarily the religious nuts who cause this misconception.

What causes more splits in the wave function is the interactions within it. When an electron collides with a positron, when a chemical in your brain goes from one end to the other. Interaction is what creates these splits.

Technically, decisions are caused by the interactions between electrical signals in our brain, and us making a decision often involves interacting with the world around us. This is how the misconception arises, but the reality is that the split occurs well before and well after a choice is made.

Of course, it's important to state that, the many worlds interpretation is still not the "correct" interpretation. What it posits hasn't been proven.

Inflation Multiverse theory

Inflation theory in itself is already a bit on the rocks in terms of an explanation of why our universe is the way it is. There isn't really any way we can use GR/the standard model to explain why inflation happened. At least, without having to add an extra field or constant in our equations.

Generally, inflation is explained using the addition of a new inflaton field, which in the higher temperatures of the early universe, caused a rapid expansion of spacetime.

This rapid expansion is generated by the field living in a heightened energy state.

At some point, the field reaches a sudden drop-off, at which point the expansion rate suddenly slows down to our expected GR level. The inflaton field then remains at a local minima.

Where does the Multiverse theory come into this?

The drop-off of the inflaton field is not universal. It only occurs at particular points in spacetime. This creates a 'bubble' of space that slowly expands in comparison to the surrounding ocean of space that is rapidly expanding.

We exist in one of these bubbles, which expands at a normal rate. But we aren't the only bubble.

There could be several bubbles surrounding us. All separated by physical space that expands at incredible rates. These bubbles create an effective multiverse.

It's not technically a multiverse because every bubble is still in one single physical universe.

Generally, this version of inflation multiverse theory is better accepted as it has inflation theory to back it up. But it's still not provable, so it's not regarded as truth.

The actual Multiverse theories

There are several multiverse theories. But the key thread linking the other multiverses, is that there is no physical way to traverse the space in-between worlds, and that each universe is seperate in beyond a physical capacity.

I can't go into many different multiverse theories, because the main point is that they're all either bullshit or thought experiments.

One example is the "temporal multiverse theory" which states that time is actually a 3-dimensional quantity, were our multiverses are caused by separations in time.

When you go back in time and alter the past, you end up in an alternate timeline future. This is a common way to interpret most time travel movies or scenarios.

Another is the "10-dimension" theory. There are 3 dimensions of space, 3 dimensions of time, and 3 dimensions of "universe". What is this universe dimension? Well it's effectively supposed to be an altering of the fundamental physical parameters.

The problem is that we don't think that the universe happens to perfectly have three degrees of freedom in it's construction.

The 10th dimension is usually unexplained in this theory.

So what was that fundamentalist strawman about?

There is an idea in physics called "quantum darwinism". This theory basically states that from the many worlds interpretation, there will be one probabilistic reality where human consciousness lives in. And thus that version of reality will be the one we see, as it was fit for human life.

This principle can be extended to various different versions of multiverse theory. That out of the many possible realities, we observe the reality that created the perfect conditions for human life.

This argument, that the universe was predisposed to observation, because it had to circularly, is called the anthropic principle. It can be said that it's an extension of the copernican principle.

And that's it. That's the strawman. Of course, this form of darwinism is not really an actual theory, more a thought experiment.

Conclusion

This post is slightly less long than the other ones but still a lot. Oops! Ruh roh!

Anyways, I hope y'all like this post with a different topic. They will be rarer because I want to take my time tackling these types of posts. Please lmk if you think this post was informative or if you'd like to see more!

Next week will probably be on Baryon Acoustic Oscillations. Follow if you wanna see more!

[confiscatedpeaches]

William Afton x [Stalker] Reader (Afton's Perspective)

Technically William Afton is also a stalker in this case, but the og title is "William Afton x afab [Stalker] Reader" so yeah. I thought it would be neat to see his perspective when he first saw you. The reader is not necessarily gendered in this version, so I removed afab.

DNI if Under 18. The reader is assumed to be at least 18.

CW: masturbation, stalking, age difference

Afton has always been the obsessive type. Though he hasn't been interested in anyone since his wife divorced him. That was until he saw you.

Frustrated with paperwork, he turned to look out a small window; something he usually does to gather his thoughts. However, once his eyes landed on you his mind began stirring and whirling with twisted thoughts and desires.

He saw you from a distance. Your hair was slicked back from sweat, either into a ponytail or just slicked behind your ears he wasn't sure. A look of concentration was spread across your face as you lifted and placed boxes from your truck onto the concrete below. He found your rather young figure intriguing. You were so concentrated on your work that you failed to notice him. He silently admired and praised your dedication, he loved watching submissive little worker bees.

As you got closer, he recognized you. He had actually met your parents before when initially working out a deal between him and your parents' catering/food delivery company. They were kind and (un)fortunate enough to show him a picture of you. They said you tried attending college, before dropping out to help out with the company. At that moment he felt a small tent begin pitching in his pants, and was glad the desk was in the way. Even though he was imagining you spread out beneath him on that same desk. Quivering and shaking like the shy-whore he imagined you to be.

However, now alone in his office, he had no need to hide his growing erection. Still watching you, his hand slid into his trousers. He started with small strokes, imagining your soft tender hands instead of his own. It gave him a sense of power over you. You had no idea, yet he was pleasuring himself to you for the first time.

His strokes quickened and intensified. He knew he needed to have you. He remembered he had a spare room in the basement, the perfect place to bring in prey. He would take you, and force himself on you until you gave in to his dark desires, and you'd come to enjoy him too, he was sure of it.

He thought about pressing his body weight into you as he pounded into your smaller frame. God how he needed this. This wasn't just a simple desire anymore, he craved you deeply. He imagined cumming inside of you, filling you up with him.

He came inside his pants, still watching you from afar. A filthy mess, for sure, but a delicious one. Though he was finished, for now, a twisted desire began growing in his chest.

"Mmm, little bunny... I'll get you soon enough."

[notbecauseofvictories]

reading The Last Unicorn because I can’t fall asleep, and it’s interesting how faithful the Rankin/Bass film was (I grew up on it and remember the thing with shocking clarity; turns out it borrows whole scenes from the book, quotes lines verbatim---even the songs!) while simultaneously stripping out a lot of Beagle’s quite deft humor.

[choosing-criminalminds]

One More Time

Summary: Their love was years and years in the making, and even when prison quickly builds back up the walls they worked so hard to break down, Spencer learns just how strong the foundation of their trust is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader(ish) -> told mostly in the 3rd person, from Spencer’s POV

Category: angst (?)

Warnings: mentions of character death (Maeve, Gideon), mentions of blood (Maeve’s death), slight panic/anxiety, language -> let me know if there are any more to add!

Also, un-beta’d, we die like the trash we are.

Length: 5.6k

A/N: Okay yeah so first post. So…this turned out much longer than expected? This is for Ellie’s ( @spenciebabie ) writing contest/celebration and goodness I’m so nervous because I’ve barely written, much less posted, anything in years. Anyway, I guss I decided to challenge myself to write this? I hope you guys like it?

Also, if anyone wants a new friend, please hit me up because I’m too shy to say hello myself.

Prompt was: “Why don’t you make me?”

-*-*-*-

“Trust has to be earned, and should come only after the passage of time.”

—Arthur Ashe

-*-*-*-

For all his genius, Spencer didn’t know what to make of the fact that he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.

It wasn’t until years down the line that he realized he had been exceptionally aware of her since they met, carefully observing, cataloguing the way she so gently and kindly defied every expectation and pushed past every preconceived notion he had of her. By then, she had already settled in a little corner of his heart and helped seal the cracks in his life that he didn’t even know existed.

But when she first joined the team as an intern, he was more than a little reluctant to get to know her. It was during the summer between her college graduation and the start of her graduate studies, and she seemed too worldly, too perfect. She wasn’t like the girls from high school, or even college, for that matter, who were simply mean. On the contrary, she was wonderfully polite and incredibly ambitious, intelligent, and very much the type of girl that was far too out of his league, one that wouldn’t spare him a second glance before continuing down whatever focused path she was on.

That’s why he planned to avoid her as much as possible her first day in the office. She had, thankfully, spent the morning in Hotch’s office, since he was her official supervisor, but when he saw them about to emerge right before lunch, he panicked, muttered a random excuse, and shuffled out of the bullpen, leaving a bemused Derek and Elle in his wake.

It didn’t help that he was ducking out of rooms while JJ was giving her a quick tour and making introductions, and almost every member of the team had cornered him, encouraging him to talk to her, to befriend her due to their closeness in age. (“She’s only what? Two-ish years younger than you?” When he mumbled that exact date, Penelope had broken into a large, wicked grin, poking him teasingly in the cheek. Gratefully, she held back any further comment.)

Spencer had blinked, a little surprised, when Penelope Garcia, who generally disliked change, had only good things to say. Remarkably humble about her achievements, and not in the standoffish fake way, Penelope commented after admitting she had run a background check on her. Genuine, and quite sweet.

Polite, Derek had said, if a little quiet, trying to see where she fits in the team dynamic. You should reach out, be a friend, he suggested.(Spencer ignored the very pretty slipped somewhere in the comment, as well as the knowing smile shot his direction when he felt his cheeks flushing.)

A surprisingly wicked sense of humor, was all Elle said with a sly smile. (Spencer chose to ignore that too.)

And when Spencer tentatively asked the man, Jason Gideon, a man of generally few words, had spoken of her, however briefly, with surprising fondness, because of course Gideon had met her when she was a child, because of course her uncle now headed legal three floors up, and of course her uncle was the last third of the BAU’s Holy Trinity, of which Gideon and Rossi were a part of.

You’ll get along very nicely.

Spencer was incredibly intimidated, to say the least.

And then when he couldn’t avoid her anymore (because of course they were desked next to each other), all it took for her was noticeably catching herself from extending a hand, then offering a small little wave and a nervous smile to leave him breathless. (He pointedly ignored the look knowing look JJ shot him.)

He tried to stifle the little seed of hope—that she definitely wasn’t interested in him, and her saccharine smile was nothing more than a false front to make a positive impression during a lucrative FBI internship meant only to bolster her resume—but the resolve crumbled quickly. She turned out to be so genuinely kind and sweetly humble that Spencer cursed the fact that the internship lasted only through that summer.

It also certainly didn’t help, either, that the very first thought he had when meeting her was a single word.

Pretty.

-*-*-*-

It was almost ridiculous how well she got along with everyone in the office.

She clearly made it a mission to make the most of the time she had and was more than willing to put in the work and prove her worth. Although she was technically Hotch’s intern and her main role was to assist the core field team, Spencer watched as she managed to get on absolutely everyone’s good graces through a combination of unassuming charm, sharp wit, and willingness to learn and to help that was so uniquely her.

For Spencer, it meant that she happily listened to what he had to say, encouraging him to continue when appropriate or saving a quiet question for later when it wasn’t. When she told him that she enjoyed listening to him talk, Spencer was taken aback, stuttering as he tried to figure out if she was only saying that to be polite. She gave him a gracious smile, ensured that she “quite honestly enjoyed” listening to him, and proceeded to ask a few well-timed and well-pointed questions to smoothly nudge him back to their previous topic.

Spencer stared at her, slack-jawed, then smiled bashfully, and allowed himself to hope.

(He definitely didn’t know what to do with the fact that when she knowingly reached out to his hand resting on the table and lightly tapped the back of his hand, he didn’t have his typical knee-jerk desire to pull away. He also mostly certainly didn’t know what to do with the fact that when her thumb grazed over his knuckles to sooth the tension he didn’t even realize he had, he felt an inexplicable calm ease into his very bones.)

-*-*-*-

“It’ll take a good five, six years to finish my J.D./Ph.D., but Hotch offered me an open invitation to join the team when I do, and I’m more than inclined to take his offer when the time comes.”

Spencer peered at her, breathing out a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. It was the last day of her internship, and she was making the rounds to say her thank you’s and goodbyes individually to the members of the team. He was the last one, and he had been dreading the conversation the entire day.

While he wouldn’t describe what he felt for her as anything beyond a genuine, platonic friendship—in the grand scheme of things, they’d only known each other for ten weeks—their easy companionship had become very dear to him. And he was terrified and nervous that her time with the BAU would be just a small chapter in her life before she moved on to the bigger and better things, leaving him behind as a fond but distant memory.

She laughed softly at his surprise, before it trailed off into a sigh. She then took a deep breath and asked. “Do you trust me?” Spencer looked at her, a bit dumbfounded. Did he trust her? Her gaze was heavy on him and the question weighty, a gentle demand for an honest answer. Did he trust her? Yes, he did, he supposed, they were friends. Right? He breathed in deeply, squared his shoulders just a bit, and answered in the affirmative.

As if she sensed his hesitance, his unease, she gave him a knowing look and took one of his hands into hers, fingers brushing over fingers, before hooking her pinky around his. “Because I promise you, Spencer Reid, I’ll be back, right here. You’ll be waiting for me, yeah?”

He looked at her in awe, the dim light of the nearly-empty office reflecting off her kind eyes. Warmth spread through his chest, and she smiled so brilliantly that he nearly forgot to breathe, to answer. To answer. He smiled back, twitchy, introspective, and considered the weight of her question. He nodded and responded simply.

“Always.”

-*-*-*-

She managed to remain on the Bureau’s consulting payroll over the next several years, though she was primarily based in the Bay Area as she finished her graduate studies at Stanford. The team as a whole still went to her for a fresh perspective when needed; she video called in to help on cases when necessary and met up in person if a case called them to California.

He knew that she kept in touch with JJ, Penelope, and Derek, and that Hotch and Emily (whom she met shortly after Emily joined the team and a case brought them to LA) were also friendly, if professional, contacts. Spencer himself was known to receive the odd phone call from her.

However, what had Spencer almost covetously pleased was that they had something they shared exclusively between the two of them, because she had steadfastly kept her promise to write to him.

-*-*-*-

Her letters were as beautiful as they were constant, and Spencer handled and read each one with care.

Her handwriting suited her; while it generally was neat and clear little scrawl, he knew it would get a little freer, and little loopier when she was tired, if she was particularly excited, or if she found herself a bit tipsy. (And yet she still managed to always write in an almost perfectly straight line even on a blank sheet of paper. He was envious, and when he told her as such, he could hear the laughter in her response as she wrote it a little more wobbly than usual.) And while he knew her to be tilted more on the quiet, introverted side of the scale, she had a way with the written word, each phrase poetic and thoughtful.

And they were remarkably therapeutic to write in return, Spencer found. Their initial letters mostly consisted of light banter about their mutual and individual interests, updates on the progress of her research (sprinkled amusing tidbits of her exasperation and frustration), bits and pieces about his cases and updates on and amusing anecdotes about the team.

However, over time, he slowly opened up to her, about his fears, his hopes, his dreams. And when he hesitantly divulged bits and pieces about the drugs, his mother, the headaches, he felt the relief in his entire body when she responded with empathy and grace. In turn, she did the same. She was vulnerable, she was open, and as wonderful and quite near perfect as he knew her to be, he was pleased to find her so incredibly human.

Those letters he slowed down to read, committing them to memory with more intention.

(He kept her letters in the drawer of his desk at his apartment, and eventually moved them to a specially designated box when he needed more room. When he learned that she did the same, he couldn’t help the tender warmth that fluttered in his chest. He still didn’t know what to do with the feeling.)

-*-*-*-

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It took six years, and an additional five months at the Academy (and then another few weeks as she was introduced to the legal team, with whom she would also be working with in her role as legal liaison), but she kept her promise and found her way back to the BAU, and it was like she was never gone.

This time, in her re-introduction to the team, she was a breath of fresh air.

When she approached him individually with a nervous smile, she reached out, then hesitated, and a sense of déjà vu washed over Spencer. But then, she had placed a hand on his elbow, and when she smiled, he breathed in a sense of peace and familiarity, of comfort.

“You waited.”

He smiled back, and in a rather forward gesture on his part, he adjusted so he could take the hand on his arm into his.

“Always.”

-*-*-*-

She was too good for him.

Whatever relationship they had—Spencer didn’t know what to call it, though friendship seem too trivial of a word for it—he knew it was too good, too perfect to last.

Because in a cruel twist of fate, her first case back on the team, however unofficial it was, was Maeve.

He was hyperaware of the neutral expression on her face when he finally brought his fears to the team. To anyone else she would seem serene and put together, but to him the slight sag in her shoulders and the realization transitioning to acceptance were clear as day. Spencer never mentioned Maeve to her in their letters, but later, in retrospect, he believed she had an inkling, at the very least. You seem happier, she had written, once, not too long after he first became acquainted with Maeve, and that makes me happy.

Did it? Then he didn’t want to know what his misery would do to her because then, Maeve died, and in his grief over another woman, he fought desperately to push her away.

She could share his happiness, but he refused to let her share his pain, his brokenness. She did not deserve that, and he would not be the one to destroy the beauty and sunshine and hope she brought everywhere with her.

But when they finally took Maeve’s body away, and when the blurred commotion of sirens and law enforcement and emergency services and constant hammering of half-hearted condolences and check-ins finally died down, he felt the blanket around his shoulders be adjusted, and a now-familiar pair of hands take in his own, firm, and refusing to ever let go. Thumbs traced over his knuckles as soothingly as he remembered, and only then did he begin to vaguely process the fact those hands had been tucked into his almost the entire evening, anchoring him through the haze and the fog.

As if on cue, she squeezed his hand gently, like she knew exactly when he was slowly becoming aware of her presence, and he suddenly found he lacked the strength to do what he initially intended.

Still dazed, he felt her shift, and she was kneeling on the ground in front of him where he sat on the curb, and softly drew him into a hug. Any form of resistance he previously had dissolved; he clung to her, tears stinging his eyes once again.

It’s okay, I’m here, I’ll stay, she whispered, I’ll stay, always and always.

Just don’t push me away.

“I-” His voice cracked. “I loved her.”

He paused, his voice weakening.

“I love her...”

Hands ran soothingly through his hair.

“I know.”

She always did.

“…so much.”

He didn’t need to see her face to realize that she was crying with him, for him—he could feel her trying to contain the trembling in her chest, trying desperately to remain composed. He tried to do the same, but when she tilted her head and let him bury his face into her neck, Spencer finally felt fresh tears begin to flow, and he allowed her to take his face into her hands and chase the tears with her fingers.

And Spencer wept freely, first for death of the woman he loved, and then for the tears and the grief he caused the one person he could call his kindred spirit, his soulmate.

-*-*-*-

He healed, slowly.

There were good days, when the thought of Maeve did not stir up memories of blood and fear and gunshots but, rather, of auburn hair and admiration and hushed conversations on the phone. On those days, he felt like he was no longer haunted by a ghost and could finally begin to move on. On those days, he could slow down, appreciate the small things again, and focus on how a pair of familiar, steady hands pulled him out of the past, anchored him in the present, and allowed him to hope about the future.

But then there were the bad days when her touch scalded and burned his skin. The warmth and the pulse of blood rushing through her veins and the germs on her hands and her life was overwhelming because Maeve was dead and cold and gone. So, with every glare and with every sharp comment aimed at where he knew it would hurt, he finally made good on his desire to push her away.

It was on those days the bitter voice in the back of his mind whispered how it was supposed to be Maeve, not her, there alive with him, holding his hand as they faced the world.

It was also on those days he chose to disregard the regret that settled in the pit of his stomach each time he heard his own biting voice, and disregard the horror brought on by even thinking of wishing she were dead instead. He began to ignore the tremble in her hands when she reached out to him and brushed her fingers against his in concern, and he ignored how she gradually began pulling back, hesitant, nervous that her touch would be unwarranted, unwanted. He certainly ignored the unconscious flex in his hand, the ache for the reassurance and comfort he had become so accustomed to—

He ignored it all until he woke up, one night, to an empty bed, and a sudden surge of panic rushed through his body and bile rose in his throat. She was right there, when he fell asleep, giving him a small smile and nod when he asked if she could read to him, to stay the night. Now, without a word, she was gone, she was gone, shewasgone and Spencer could feel the tightness in his chest and tears sting his eyes when realized that the only one to blame was himself, himself, himself.

Why, he thought bitterly, why was he like this? Why must he try to push away every good thing in his life?

But then, there he stood, barely aware of the tears on his cheeks and ice running through his veins, as he found her curled up on his couch, franticly wiping away her own silent tears and exhaustion from her eyes. He stumbled forward, upset, upset at himself because he made her cry again. And when she flinched when he cradled her face in his hands, apologizing to him, he nearly choked back a sob, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe away the tears that did not belong on her face.

Neither of them went back to sleep that night, and Spencer began to realize just how strong she was, as she gently told him through her tears the hard truths of his situation and where she stood in relation to him.

I can’t fight with a ghost, she had murmured hoarsely, but I can work with her legacy and her memory.

And then, with a pinky wrapped around his, she promised that she would be there to help him through it, but the only way was if, and only if, he let her.

It was that night (or, rather, morning, as the sun rose) that he began to come to terms that, whether he deserved it or not, she—and her pure and unadulterated goodness—was more or less a permanent fixture in his life, and he felt more at peace than he had in ages. And when the early rays of sunlight filtered through his windows and caught her in a soft glow, he found himself once again in awe. He reached out, hesitantly, and his heart soared when he felt the familiar pressure of her hand slipping into his.

She was steadfast and loyal and strong. She was brave, she was patient, she was kind. Moreover, she was alive, she was breathing, and she was here, present, by his side. It took time, and more painful conversations and more painful realizations, but eventually, the good days were a bit more consistent, the sun just a bit brighter, and his breathing a just bit freer with her hand pressed firmly into his own, her pulse thrumming beneath his fingers until his heartbeat synced with hers.

And Spencer was finally learning, learning about what to do with the fact that with her by his side, he felt like he could truly face the world.

-*-*-*-

Face the world he did.

When Gideon died, he felt his hand twitch, and the compulsion to escape and hide tugged at the back of his mind, and an old, nearly forgotten itch made its way from the crook of his elbow, slowly ebbing into in his veins and nagging in the crevices of the back of the mind.

But when he felt her hand slip into his, he felt it abate, the tension in his muscles eased. When her lips twitched into a knowing, gentle smile, he could see the underlying grief and frustration. Of course. She had known Gideon just as well as he did, if not better.

He breathed deeply and smiled back. It was weak, it was twitchy, and it was sad, but it was a smile, nonetheless. He wasn’t in this alone.

-*-*-*-

They were seated on a large blanket in a secluded park in D.C. on one of their rare days off when she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, and suddenly it seemed like all the right pieces finally fell into place.

And when she whispered those three little words, and everything made sense. He looked up from where he laid, and again he was breathless at how the setting sun caught in her hair and reflected off her skin and her eyes. But then, when he opened his mouth to respond, the same three little words caught in his throat and his breath hitched, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to respond, to let her know that her feelings were returned, but the words failed him.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, and he trembled as he felt her hands cupping his face and fingers gracing over his cheekbones, “if you don’t reciprocate; I’ll live. But I just wanted to let you know–know that I’ll be by your side no matter what happens.”

It wasn’t until they were at the door of her apartment, when he found the strength to push past the nerves and respond.

“I do re-reciprocate, and I want–I want to say it, because I do,” he stuttered out, “but I just…don’t know how to say it yet.”

He suddenly felt like a prepubescent schoolboy, nervous and quaking and terrified. But then, magnetic as she was, she brought his gaze back to her face, and her knowing smile breathed air back into his lungs. His heart blossomed, and the fingers rubbing circles into his hand anchored his attention on her. “Then I’ll wait until you can. Always. Forever.” She paused. “Do you trust me?”

Spencer peered up at her, brows furrowed. Unbidden, the memory of the first time she asked him the same question floated to the front of his mind, and he couldn’t help the breath of amusement. The question caught him off guard, but this time, when he found his voice it was resolute, quick, and sure.

Yes.

He felt a pinky hook around his, and the now-familiar warmth bubbled in his chest.

“Good, because it’s a promise I intend to keep.”

This time, the tears her fingers caught were those of appreciation and relief.

-*-*-*-

And then, the sun set, and prison happened.

-*-*-*-

At first, it was easy to ignore.

Prison changed him. He knew it did, and he knew that she wasn’t naïve to the fact either. He was a bit harder, a bit more defensive, and while he tried his best not to show it, he knew she could see the darkness had just a little bit more of an edge. He was well aware of how she watched him just a bit more closely.

It seemed alright at first. It took a while for him to adjust; there were certainly bumps and bruises along the way, along with some admittedly choice words exchanged in frustration, but that was expected.

But he supposed it was the small things, and small things add up.

The first week her hand naturally slipped into his like nothing’d changed, but his grip was tighter and more desperate than normal, like she’d disappear or slip through his fingers if he didn’t. At the same time, he was also too terrified to touch her otherwise, as if she’d break like glass if his grip on her waist was just a bit too tight.

She never commented, gave him space, and allowed him to initiate physical contact.

She didn’t need to know, he rationalized, it wasn’t her burden to bear.

Then he began to hold her at arm’s length. She pushed, gently, and he pushed back, harder. He knew she was only trying to help, but he needed to figure it out for himself, lest he hurt her again. She only sighed, and relented. While her concern was apparent with how she watched him with just a little more unease, she gave him space.

However, while she was an exceptionally patient person, there was only so much distance and space one could handle. When she reached out, worried, and pressed just a little harder, he withdrew completely, and his rationalization slowly evolved. Stop hovering. Don’t need you treating me like I’m broken. Don’t need your pity.He ignored the pain that flashed in her eyes, the quiet desperation in her voice whenever she called after him after he refused to listen, and the increasingly familiar ache in his entire body when he began to avoid and refuse her touch.

It was the small things, because when the nightmares started, it wasn’t so easy to ignore.

-*-*-*-

“—eathe, Spencer. That’s good, breathe.”

The mumbled affirmations continued as he slowly processed his surroundings.

Queen-sized bed. Egyptian cotton sheets. Breathe in. Goose-feather down pillows. A firmer memory foam pillow that smelled of her shampoo. Breathe out.

Safety.

He was still bleary-eyed when he sunk back down, burying half his face in the pillows and ashamed as he mumbled a quiet apology. Her voice was kind, understanding, telling him it was alright as she tucked a stray lock of curls away from his face. When he seemed to settle back down, her hand gentle rested on his jaw, thumb absently tracing his cheekbone.

“Do you want to talk—”

“No.”

She frowned, sighed, took a moment to flick on the lamp light and collect her thoughts; he could see, through his lashes, the gears turning in her head about how to proceed. Meanwhile, he heaved a sighed, and sat up against the headboard. His eyes closed, doing the same as her. She then reached out, touched his hand, grazed her thumb over his knuckles and drew circles on the back. It started slow, hesitant—she was surprised that he didn’t recoil, and frankly, so was he—but the motion was familiar, grounding, so he let her continue. He knew it helped her focus as well.

“Spence, you’re…you need to talk to someone—it doesn’t have to be me! But bottling it up all inside, it’s clearly tearing you apart.”

“I agreed to start talking with my therapist, haven’t I?”

His voice was flat, defensive.

“But you haven’t, and…knowing you, you won’t be telling them the whole truth.” His jaw tightened and his lips pursed, his hand gripping the sheets flexed, and he looked away from her, intently staring at a random point in the room that wasn’t her. As always, she seemed to know him far too well.

She let out a breath of a sigh; she knew he was beginning to shut her out again. Her free hand lifted to his shoulder, rested in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve told you before, that you’ve started to shut people out. I know–I know you’re so, so strong, but you don’t have to face it alone. You don’t need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders; we’re not as fragile as you seem to think we are.” She paused, contemplating. “If you need someone with distance that you can trust, call Derek, call Hotch, even, but remember, Spence, I made you a promise: I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

When he didn’t answer, still staring off into the mid-distance, she sighed.

“I’ll leave, give you some space. Think about it.”

She was at the bedroom door when he finally cleared his throat and responded. His voice was bitter as he bit out: “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

A quiet ‘wha–’slipped from her lips as she angled toward him as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

“If you want to leave, fine. You seem to be doing that quite well recently. The door’s right there and you don’t have to come back until you want to make me a charity case again. But if you want me to talk, if you think you can handle it, then be my guest. Take a seat and why don’t you make me?”

He instantly regretted the words, but some dark part of his mind as pleased that he could see the anger and annoyance spark through her as she inhaled deeply and slowly turn around to face him in full. “I will if that’s what it will take.”

Spencer’s gaze hardened.

“You don’t have the fucking guts.”

A brief moment passed as she took him in full, eyes flashing. Spencer raised his gaze, challenging, daring her, and then, the same, shadowed part of his mind was savagely happy that he had finally gotten a rise out of her, because she bit back with venom.

“Fucking try me.”

And then, he watched her warily as she visibly froze, then deflate, her jaw tightening and eyes welling with unshed tears as she stumbled backward to the door.

“But–but not like this. Not like this. I’m–I’m so sorry you didn’t–you don’t deserve…” Her voice was quiet, but it was hitched with a swirl of emotions Spencer couldn’t pinpoint, and he was suddenly aware of the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m going–I’m going to go…” He heard the doorknob turn, and suddenly the sound of gunshots rang in his ears, and he could the taste the metallic bitterness as blood and dead brown eyes filled his vision.

Wait. Wai- She was halfway out the door when he called out, voice cracking, and through blurred tears he saw her shut the door and shuffled and stumbled back into the room toward him, kneeling in front of him. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the whispers of his name and the urgency of the apologies. And then his eyes fluttered closed when she reached up to brush the tears away, and the motion opened the floodgates. It was one of the many little touches they shared—thumbs wiping over cheeks and hands cupping faces—and he had half a mind to shove her aside, but dear God he hadn’t felt it in far too long; he leaned, almost desperately, into her touch and he could hear her sniffling back her own tears.

Fuck.

He was always like this.

His passive aggressiveness was his defense mechanism; he lashed out blindly whenever he felt vulnerable, not caring who he hurt and how much. It was something she had been helping him work through, and he thought he was getting better, but here he was, hurting her because of it again.

Not like this.

He barely noticed that she had pulled him into a tender hug, but now that he did process the warmth of her embrace seeping into his bones, he wanted to push it away. He didn’t – he didn’t deserve this but now she was pulling back, and it sent a brief course of panic through his body, a fear that she was pulling away, away from him, away from the darkness and shadows that loomed permanently over him. He wouldn’t blame her, but–but…oh.

Her eyes always spoke volumes for her, and now that she had firmly tilted his chin up, her gaze firm, resolved.

“I know you are feeling vulnerable, and I know that you believe you can do this on your own.” She breathed in deeply. In turn he gazed up at her through his tears, as evenly as he could, and she met it without wavering. “You are strong, Spencer Reid, so, so strong, been so for so long. But…but I made a promise that I would always be by your side, and I’m never going to break it. So please.” Her voice hitched, and his breath caught in his throat. “Please, trust in me, one more time. Just one more time.”

Moments ticked by to the time of his heartbeat before he finally nodded, and the relief and the elation in her eyes soothed the dull pain inside his heart. This time, he drew her into his arms and into his lap and sighed as he leaned into the crook of her neck.

Thank you.

I love you, too.

-*-*-*-

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”

—Maya Angelou

-*-*-*-

[samwisethewitch]

a real witch reviews the arcana (aka that phone game based on tarot cards that keeps showing up on your explore page)

I’ve been seeing The Arcana all over Tumblr and Instagram for several months now, and since I am a Genuine Real Life Witch™️ and have been reading tarot for several years now, I thought it would be fun to play the game and review it both from a gamer perspective and a witch/tarot reader perspective. 

Spoiler: I really, really like it.

Please note that I have done virtually no research into the developer or development history of this game. This review is based purely on my experience from my playthroughs. 

So what is The Arcana?

The Arcana is a fantasy/romance visual novel created by Nix Hydra Games. A visual novel is an interactive, text-based story with static visuals, so it’s almost more like an interactive graphic novel than a video game. Honestly, visual novels remind me of those “Choose Your Own Adventure” books that were really popular in the 1980s and 1990s more than anything else. 

(Note: I recently learned that a visual novel is NOT the same thing as a dating sim, although the two genres are similar and do sometimes overlap. Dating sims... simulate dating. That’s really all there is to them. Visual novels typically have a more plot-focused story, and may have other stuff going on besides the romance.)

The story of The Arcana follows the player character, a magician’s apprentice living in the fictional city-state of Vesuvia, who is enlisted to track down a suspected murderer. Where the story goes from there depends on which route you choose to play. There are currently six routes, each with a different love interest. Each route has its own unique story, although obviously there are some overlapping elements.

Sam the Gamer’s Review

Like I mentioned, The Arcana is essentially an interactive novel, so I’m reviewing it the way I’d review a book. So, let’s just run down some of the typical book review questions, shall we?

Is the content good? Yes. It has gotta be difficult to juggle six parallel storylines and make all of them equally compelling, but this game pulls it off. There were parts that genuinely had me in suspense, other parts that had me giggling at my phone, and some parts that were (intentionally) frustrating. I’m really impressed with how each route is totally different from the others -- not just in content, but even in tone. For example, Portia’s route comes across as much more lighthearted and fluffy, whereas Julian and Muriel both have a lot of angst in their respective stories. It’s really well done.

Are the characters well-rounded and realistic? Again, yes. Okay, “realistic” may be a bit of a stretch in some cases Vlastomil but all six of the main romanceable characters have fleshed out personalities that feel natural within the story world. The side characters in this game are also really interesting, although I do wish some of them had bigger roles in the story.

What about the technical stuff (dialogue, grammar, etc.)? For the most part, it’s pretty good. The dialogue flows naturally, and different characters have different speaking styles, which is a little thing that makes SUCH a big difference. I noticed a couple of typos, but nothing too crazy.

The gameplay was pretty good. The only real mechanic is choosing one of two or three dialogue options at certain points in the game. There are a couple of places in each route where these choices are timed, but other than that it’s a very stress-free gaming experience.

Another thing that impresses me from both a writing and a gameplay angle is the multiple ending mechanic. Your choices matter in this game. Each of the routes has an “upright” ending and a “reversed” ending. I’m not exactly sure which choices affect the ending you get, but I’ve only managed to get “upright” endings so far, and I didn’t have to do anything special to unlock them.

Sam the Witch/Tarot Reader’s Review

Honestly, I did not expect this game to be as accurate with its depiction of magick and the Tarot as it was. 

Each character is based on one of the Major Arcana, and I feel like they did a really good job of matching their personalities to their cards. Nadia is based on the High Priestess so she’s very intuitive and intelligent but tends to be distant and hard to read, Julian is based on the Hanged Man so he feels the need to sacrifice himself for others (with lots of gallows humor along the way), Lucio is based on the Devil so he’s a fucking bitch all about power and excess, etc. 

I reeeeaaalllyy like the use of “upright” and “reversed” endings instead of the typical good vs. bad endings -- based on upright vs. reversed meanings of Tarot cards, of course. I also really love that the reversed endings aren’t 100% negative, just like how reversed cards in readings aren’t necessarily negative.

I don’t wanna spoil anything, but I also really like how the upright endings deal with the upright traits of that character’s Major Arcana card, while the reversed endings deal with the reversed traits of that card.

This game also includes some pretty realistic depictions of witchcraft and magick. Obviously because it’s a fantasy world there is fantasy magic involved, but astral travel is a major theme in pretty much every route, and the way it’s depicted in the game is very similar to my real life experiences with it. 

There’s one character who is a kitchen witch and makes homemade enchanted food with magickal herbs, which made me feel warm and fuzzy because it reminded me of all the times I’ve used kitchen magick to make charmed food for myself and my loved ones.

Tarot readings are obviously a big deal within the story world, but there’s also a character who uses runestones! Which I think is neat!!

They mention some real-life magickal plants. Myrrh being used for protection comes up a lot, which, in case anyone was curious, is actually one of the common uses for myrrh in spellcraft.

They clearly did their research and honestly I’m thrilled.

Other Cool Stuff About This Game

It’s probably the most queer-inclusive video game I’ve ever played. Right off the bat, you’re given the choice to choose between he/him, she/her, or they/them pronouns for your character. The pronouns you pick do not affect the story in any way.

All six love interests are romanceable no matter what gender you play as. Which means this is canonically a universe in which everyone is queer. Hell yeah.

Two of the six current romanceable characters are women, and one is nonbinary. The routes for these characters are just as well written and romantic, with just as many wink-wink-nudge-nudge innuendos, as the men’s. There are also multiple nonbinary side characters.

Also! Racial and ethnic diversity in the main cast! And the main characters all have different body types, which is another nice touch.

This is nerdy as hell but I love how the different cultures and ethnic groups in the game are based on real-life cultures? It’s just one of those little things that makes my heart happy.

The art style is pretty as fuck.

In conclusion: I feel like this review is overwhelmingly positive but I just genuinely can’t think of any major criticisms of this game. It’s fun, it’s free, there was clearly a lot of thought put into it. I was really pleasantly surprised. Everybody go download it and play it. You’ll have a good time, and afterwards you’ll understand all the memes.

P.S. I know people are gonna ask so: I chose Julian for my first playthrough because he’s tall and goth and has messy hair and that’s honestly all I look for in a man. Now that I’ve played all six routes, Portia’s is probably my favorite because it’s so cute and wholesome and I just really want a soft bookworm girlfriend, please. Lucio’s route is a close second because after seeing him as an antagonist in everyone else’s routes it’s actually really interesting to see his story told from a sympathetic angle! But like I said, I’ve played all six routes.

[stabletwooriginals]

CHAPTER FOUR: Perspective

LittlePip had the bright idea of looting a building she is way too underleveled for. That's not really a Gamer Joke, as FoE really does seem to take a lot of rules and mechanics from the Fallout games. But it's also funny.

Her opponents are the classic brain-bots we know from the games, made more horrifying with the simple detail of sounding like children. "Come on out. We only want to kill you for trespassing!" also reminds me of the turrets in Portal.

This is also where we get our first reference of the zebras as the enemy, via the intercom playing an ancient, automated message. Oh, and the first mention of the Minstry of Technology too!

The Mr. Handy equivalent of a plasma weapon is said to look like a unicorn's horn. That's cool.

While trying to escape on collapsing catwalks we get the first instance of self-levitation! That's a creative use of the canonical ability unicorns in the show possess. I'm not even sure if a unicorn levitaed *another* pony in season 1. But I think they never levitated themselves? This also gave me flashbacks (or rather flashforwards) to all the cool stuff LittlePip can do later with her levitation, I'm excited to get there.

 Oh fuck me with Celestia's forehooves!

The first instance of a PipSwear! Now, I love them. They are iconic. But heck, gosh, darn it if they don't sound awkward when said out loud. Which kinda makes them not work as swears, in my opinion. But for me, they are dumb fun and sometimes that's enough. Her remark that she picked these exploitives up from the raiders is a nice touch. That she keeps them up and builds on them is all her, though.

IRONSHOD FIREARMS How do you like *them* apples?   I didn't get it.

So, I am not a native English speaker. I know this saying, but I was curious where it comes from. *Apparently* that's not really known, but according to this article the phrase was used like this in 1895 already. However, it was also used to refer to anti-tank granades in World War I, for their apple-like appearence. Since granades also look like apples in FoE, I will take the risk and say that I think I do get Ironshod Firearms' slogan.

The anti zebra propaganda found in the factory overmare office is both creative and glossed over. The slogan ("Better Wiped than Striped! Join the Equestrian Forces Today!") is heavily reminicient of the German rhymes of similiar racist nature from the world wars. And the depiction of the zebras as some dark creatures with evil glowing eyes is over the top, but only a reread might reveal this as the neon sign it is, as the zebras have not yet been introduced as the enemy force properly.

In the overmares office Littlepip finds a ton of useful items, from spark batteries , a StealthBuck and gum (which could be the first instance of MintAls, altough not called such, as LittlePip doesn’t know them yet (and if they aren’t, she finds some later in this chapter in an abandoned camp under a bridge), to the one, the only: little macintosh. This revolver will become LittlePips iconic weapon that she keeps until the very end of the story. Presumably made for or at least by Applejack, so this also gives Littlepip a neat little tie to one of the original shows main characters.

Hacking the terminal LittlePip discovers that she could have opened the safe she picked with a bobby pin remotely from there. Intentionally or not, this is a dig at Fallout 3′s design philosophy of giving you several ways to open locks, making only learning one of them enough, while skilled characters are left feeling a bit overqualified.

Leaving Ironshod Firearms, LittlePip admits to having given up on finding Velvet for now and being set on just exploring the world instead. Again, very Fallout 3 in my book.

Past a playground that became a graveyard for little ponies (dark!), she finds a “Sparkle~Cola” vending machine. This becomes LittlePips favorite drink and when I first read it, I was super happy about that for some reason. The book keeps mentioning how she sipps on carroty cola sometimes and every time I remember thinking it was a fun detail. I have no idea why.

Resting on a bench closeby we get a description of this poster:

(Art by Droakir - DeviantArt)

First mention of the Ministry of Morale, first instance of Pinkie Pie and a really fun description of how her graying mane makes it look like a candy cane. Like the poster on the zebras, this is also great, classic propaganda writing. Obviously it is a reference to the episode Green Isn’t Your Color, but while I feel that it is referencing some real life propaganda, I do not know a specific one.

Watcher suddenly is back, helpfully explaining that the MoM is “another well-meaning idea that was so much better on scroll.” What a fitting description of pre-war politics in FoE.

Getting jumped makes LittlePip call back to the slaver, that complained about sprite-bots sneaking up on ponies. If I recall correctly this will be one of the biggest sources of fun in FoE: Callbacks like this, that help paint the world in your mind by connecting the dots for you. Im certain some find this aspect annoying, as they rather enjoy doing that work themselves, but as a casual reader (of a very long story) I always welcomed it. I will also stop pointing them out from here on, unless they strike me remarkable in other ways.

A quick reminder of the raider armor she is wearing and some foreshadowing how it makes her look like “a nightmare pony”, before Watcher offers that she needs to find her virtue. This will be as important as in the original show, but also almost take LittlePip until the end of the story to really figure it out. Right now, she doesn’t quite believe him and his connection to the sprite-bot drops. Now we get a different voice from the radio the sprite-bots play, when Watcher is not in control of them. Similiar to President Eden of the Enclave in Fallout 3. This however, is Red-Eye, altough not named yet, giving a motivational speech about the posibility of rebuilding Equestria. Naturally, this confuses LittlePip even further, having seen no trace of any leaders or reconstruction efforts.

Well, technically she has seen slavers, so, unbeknownst to her, she actually has seen a part of Red-Eyes plan.

But it gives her the idea to look for settlements and actually finds one in the distance. A undamaged looking caravan is moving away from it, all in all a great disovery.

While a fun and memorable scene in itself, what follows is meant to reflect a corner stone of LittlePips character. As she approaches the settlement she gets mistaken for a raider by her barding and shot at. Remembering the caravan she collects her strength and stands up to her agressor, threatening to kill them if they attack the others. This reveals the misunderstanding -- her attacker thought she was endangering the caravan -- and LittlePip exits the chapter loosing consiousness from her insuries.

Footnote: Level Up. New Perk: Egghead -- You will add +2 skill points each time you gain a new experience level.

What a chapter! While it might feel like not much happened, so many pivital and iconic elements were introduced here. Even if a lot weren’t named yet. Like Calamity! It does feel weird that LittlePip just admits on giving up on Velvet like that, though. On my first read I didn’t mind, because I just enjoyed how similiar the experience felt to playing Fallout 3, which I liked more than any other entry at the time. Now it seems odd, but there are a lot of other things to focus on and enjoy in this and the coming chapters.

[corpsebrigadier]

Questions for an Author

Tagged by @twistedsinews​

Tagging anybody who wants to dump a bunch of info about their fic writing habits; feel free to say I tagged you like I actually typed your username next to an at sign.

Name: CorpseBrigadier

Top 5 Fandoms Written: Final Fantasy Tactics, Final Fantasy VI, Ultima, and then everything sort of trails off into fandoms where I wrote one or two pieces for exchanges.

Top 5 Fandoms You Want To Write For/More: I really love the idea of eventually trying to write fic for more of the Victorian novels I study (Messed up Isabella Linton/Catherine Earnshaw! Unrequited, awkward Camden Farebrother/Tertius Lydgate! Wilkie Collins anything!), but I always feel like my writing for something requiring that much research/investment isn’t going to be as strong as it is for something that offers as many opportunities for expansion as a JRPG. I also really ought do some Vagrant Story stuff, and I feel like Ultima honestly deserves more fic about its weirder elements. (Won’t somebody think of the Talorids?)

Stories You Wish More People Knew About: 

“Let Your Curse Be On Me” (Final Fantasy Tactics) is honestly where I did some of my strongest writing about the older Beoulve brothers, but the fact that it’s sort of experimental IF designed for people without canon knowledge means that it can require more work on the part of some readers than your average FFT fic. There’s also probably a major disconnect between how I read the narrative (as somebody who planned out all the routes and sees how they dovetail) and how a player/reader experiences the story. That all being said, I’m so proud of pretty much every sequence on Dycedarg’s route, and I wish more people knew about all my important thoughts on his childhood hang ups.

"Coins” (Final Fantasy Tactics) is another piece of writing that I feel is very strong, although I recognize that having Rad as a perspective character is a very weird starting point, and that the story it tells can feel very tangential to FFT’s plot. Still, it’s a really fun piece of worldbuilding, and I love how the three major characters who aren’t Rad ended up spanning such an interesting spectrum of villainy.

“Ex Corporibus” (Final Fantasy Tactics) is dark, violent, depressing, and a sequel to a longer fic that honestly wasn’t as well put together as I would have liked (”Ex Ornamentis” has bits that I’m very proud of, but the first half is very much me finding my footing re: shipfic and longer pieces). It is absolutely the fic I re-read most out of my own works though, and I am overjoyed whenever anybody else mentions they like it in any capacity.

“Alcestis” (Hadestown) has a lot of plot elements that aren’t directly stated, and the format (postcards) is one in which I definitely spent more effort on photo editing for some segments than in writing for them. I still think it’s really neat, and I’ve been thrilled whenever anybody stumbling onto it notices all the subtle, very-much-intentional details I put into it.

“Seasons” (Ultima VIII) is the oldest piece that I have archived under this username (I moved it here from a now defunct account), and while the prose is a little more clumsy than some of my more recent works, I still have a lot of warm feelings about it. I understand why nobody is particularly taken with a piece about the aftermath of one of the Ultima series’ least popular entries, but I think my take on it is cool, and I’ve always been super happy with the ending.

Ship(s) Written The Most: Wiegraf/Zalbag, Dycedarg/Ruvelia, Ramza/Delita, Wiegraf & Miluda, Dycedarg & Zalbag. 

Character(s) Written The Most: Pretty much the characters from the ships above: the older Beoulves, the Folles kids, and those two guys who are purportedly FFT’s major characters. 

How Many OCs Do You Have: I don’t do a lot with OCs. The place where I come closest is with Rad (Final Fantasy Tactics), who technically has a presence in canon as a named character but had nothing by way of a personality until I got my grubby hands on him. 

How Many Series Do You Have: Four. One for my shipping manifestos, one for my series of 1,000 word bizarre FFT rarepairs, one for my various minor ficlets for my FFT ficverse, and one for my two utterly depressing Wiegraf/Zalbag pieces. 

What Do You Do With Fics You’re No Longer Interested In?:  Everything I’ve abandoned in my WIPs folder is like a gently moldering compost heap, always ready to lend itself to new forms. 

Coming Soon:

Achronological, wistful Dycedarg/Ruvelia with what I hope is an absolutely killer finale involving Orinus.

Hopefully another IF piece that riffs on the Oeilvert sound novel. 

Maybe... someday a finale to the Reliquae series

Not yet started?: I have super cool IF plans in my head, but I have yet to open up Twine and start setting up rooms for my grand vision of various Ivalician women trying to make sense of Ernesta Bulow.

Line From A WIP: “Women have their own wars, and nobody will name us saviors of Ivalice no matter how much we bleed for them.”

Do You Accept Prompts?: It depends. I sometimes solicit them (this is how I ended up with that series of rarepairs), and sometimes a friend will just mention “Hey have you ever thought about _____?” and a fic will manifest a few weeks later. In general though, I don’t really advertise the degree to which I take suggestions for fic.

How Do You Feel About Kudos? Writing in only itty bitty fandoms, I treasure each individual kud the masses see fit to bestow on me. I love comments, and I try to comment on everything I read and enjoy, but just that little “Oh hey, I liked this” means a lot to me.

Do You Read Fic As Well? Heck yeah! I’m slowing down these days on account of various real life reasons, but I love reading widely in collections when I do exchanges, and I am pretty much always game to read anything FFT-related. I also sometimes just have a hankering to check and see “Is there fic for that?” after I encounter something new and weird that I like, and I’m always pleasantly surprised when the answer is yes.

[writer-dreams]

Love Potion (Part 5) (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Part 5 is here now!!!! I'm sorry for the wait!! I hope all if you enjoy!

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / End

Update Tags: @celestialceci @marvelobsessedteen @imaginesforthepeople @danidomm @marvelrose @vogueworthy-barnes @glossysoph @stevesvibraniumshield @bi-mama @fiveisadorable @paulalucianap1 @drama-llama-04 @mellow-delight @hahaboop @awesomehannaha @stantalentstanclc @queenskyster @outsider-underwater @babebenhardy @imaginespnr5er @riddikuluslypotter @pitkins @bughug1999 @drawlfoy @onyxbunny22 @sorgenprinzessin @vivianhuynh77 @dauntlessdracarys

House: You choose

Blood Status: You choose

Warnings: Possible swearing

Note: The reader in this story is female / uses female pronouns

Word Count: 2,514 words

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

3rd Person POV

Day 5

Y/n walked out of the common room, feeling much better after a refreshing night’s sleep. She was glad that there were no classes today, which offered her some time to relax after the horrendous situation yesterday. Y/n scowled at the thought of Pansy. She was going to kill that pug-faced twat one day. Oh, that wench was going to get it someday- Caught up in her thoughts, she crashed into the hard chest of someone. Blinking rapidly in confusion, she looked up and noticed those familiar grey eyes and infamous blonde hair. Draco.

Draco grinned cheekily at her. "Hello, Love. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Oh, fine. My head has stopped spinning and I feel stable enough to be able to walk around properly."

"It’s good to hear that. I was actually looking for you anyway. Walk with me?" Draco asked, flashing a charming smile at her and extending a hand towards her. Y/n’s heart fluttered at his sweet smile, but she managed to return a small grin and placed her hand inside his. Maybe in the beginning of this, she would have been disgusted at even the thought of touching him, but now....it felt almost pleasant to do so.

She thought about how much she despised him in the beginning, and her new-found adoration for him. She wasn’t in love with him, but she wouldn’t mind being friends with him.

Draco ended up dragging her to the black lake. The water gleamed a deep shade of blue, concealing all the creatures that lurked below the surface. The bright sun already high in the cloudless sky, showering them in warm light.

"What are we doing here?" Y/n asked curiously.

Draco gestured towards the large wooden pier that overlooked the lake. He then tugged on her arm and pulled her towards it, like a child excitedly dragging someone to see their greatest creation. The old wood creaked under their feet but Draco didn’t seem concerned. He took a seat at the end of the pier, swinging his legs over the edge. He then looked at her to do the same. She sat down next to him, feeling oddly comfortable in his presence. She felt Draco’s warm hand rest of top of hers but she didn’t pull away. His grey eyes stared intently into her (e/c) orbs.

"Merlin, Y/n. I’m so glad you’re alright." Draco stated.

"Me too, Draco. I don’t think I can thank you enough for saving my life. I owe you." Y/n replied sincerely.

"You don’t owe me anything, Love." Draco took her hand in his as he placed a soft kiss against the back of her hand.

The moment was ruined when the pair heard some footsteps. The loud steps were accompanied by an obnoxious voice that caused Y/n to roll her eyes.

Not again.

"Drakie-Poo! Why do you constantly choose someone like her over me??" The annoyingly high-pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson whined.

"Excuse me, Pug-Face? I’ve had just about enough of you and your jealousy. How many brain cells does it take to understand that he’s not interested? Clearly, you prove it takes more than one."

Pansy’s face twisted into a snarl and she quickly turned to Y/n. She opened her mouth to retort but Draco quickly cut her off.

"Parkinson," He said Pansy’s name in such a cold, hostile manner that Y/n felt shivers run down her spine. "What the hell are you doing here? After what happened last time, I’m surprised you still have the guts to come near us."

"Draco, you have to believe me. She’s drugged you or cast a hex on you or something! Don’t you remember how much you despised her?! How much you hated the very sight of her in the same corridor as you?" Pansy cried out.

Y/n averted her gaze down to the floor. Pansy wasn’t completely off with her accusation. Technically, she had drugged Draco with a love potion. He didn’t really love her, it was all because of a stupid potion. This whole situation was changing her perspective of Draco. She was beginning to fall for a fake version of the blonde-haired prat.

"What is with your obsession with me and Y/n? Even creepier, you claim that I’ve been spelled to fall in love with her? How dare you! You’re just as annoying as Saint Potter. Now leave us be, Parkinson, or I will have my father know about this!" Draco snapped at Pansy.

Pansy gazed down at her black shoes. Her fists were shaking violently at her sides, as if she were trying to keep herself from shouting at Draco. She looked back up and her eyes were filled with pure hatred as she threw a burning look at Y/n.

"I’ve tried everything. I’ve been by your side since forever, I’ve supported you through everything. All of a sudden this twat waltzes into your life and you’ve fallen for her?! Where have all my efforts taken me?!" Pansy said through gritted teeth.

Draco rolled his eyes and nudged Y/n slightly. She looked back at him to see him getting up and walking towards the castle, his back turned to Pansy. "Come on, Y/n. Let’s just leave."

"I pushed her off the Quidditch stands for you!" Pansy shouted before gasping and covering her mouth with her hands quickly.

Draco stopped walking immediately, his whole body visibly stiffening. He slowly turned back around, his bangs covering his eyes.

"What did you do?" He hissed.

Pansy didn’t answer. She stood completely still, as if afraid that the slightest movement from her would cause him to attack. Her stance reminded Y/n of a deer caught in a headlight. Draco switched his gaze to Y/n, who was slightly taken aback by the intensity of his grey eyes.

"Is that true?" He asked slowly. Y/n could see he was trying to restrain himself from lashing out at the Slytherin girl. Pansy looked at Y/n with pleading eyes, begging her not to tell the truth. Y/n knew she couldn’t lie to him and Pansy didn’t really deserve to be saved from Draco’s wrath. She hesitantly nodded, watching as Pansy’s knees buckled slightly, a defeated look in her eyes.

With an enraged look, Draco swiveled back to Pansy, his wand whipped out and pointing threateningly at her. Even then, Pansy refused to move from her spot.

"I can tolerate you annoying us and interrupting our dates. However, I can not tolerate you trying to kill my girlfriend." Draco brought his wand closer to Pansy, who was still frozen with fear, "I wish I could say that this will not bring me great happiness."

With a wicked smirk, Draco shouted, "Densaugeo!" A purple light shot out of his wand and hit Pansy directly in the face. Pansy cried out from the impact and fell to the ground, screaming as she covered her mouth. From between Pansy’s twitching fingers, Y/n could clearly see that Pansy’ teeth were growing longer and longer. She looked almost like a demented kind of beaver. The Slytherin girl scrambled from the ground and rushed towards the hospital wing. Watching the girl’s form grow smaller and smaller, Y/n ran towards Draco and pinched him roughly on the arm. The Slytherin Prince let out a yelp, pulling his bicep out of her grip.

"What was that for?"

"How could you be so foolish? I understand that you only wished to protect me but you’ll be expelled for hexing her!" Y/n cried. She wasn’t sure why she cared so much if he was expelled or not.

"Oh, relax. Pansy would never want to get me expelled. She cares too much," Draco said, "Even if I don’t."

"I’m also sorry that I couldn’t do more." Draco continued, "I want to hurt her even worse than I already have but her family’s part of the Scared Twenty-Eight."

"It’s alright. I think you’ve done enough." Y/n smiled, "Now let’s just enjoy the rest of today."

Draco nodded, allowing himself to be dragged back to the pier. The pair sat down together, back in their original position. Y/n then leaned over and rested her head on Draco’s shoulder, admiring the water. Draco didn’t seem to mind and pulled her body closer to his. Y/n’s mind was swimming with questions. Why was she feeling so comfortable around him? Why did her heart feel so fluttery? Why was she literally leaning on him? Her mind screamed at her to get off of him, though her body didn’t move. Y/n silenced her thoughts, just wanting to enjoy the calming sight of the lake.

"Ah! I’ve almost forgotten!" Draco snapped his fingers, sitting up straight and rummaging through his uniform’s pockets. He then pulled out a crumbled piece of paper, unfolding it and holding it out in front of him. Y/n squinted her eyes to look at the words through the paper in the light. She could make out Draco’s fancy and neat handwriting, though she couldn’t actually read the words that were written. The blonde male caught her stare and flipped the page over so that she could see.

"It’s a poem." Draco smiled at her from the top of the paper. He flipped the paper back before clearing his throat and reciting the poem.

"(Y/n), we haven’t been together for long,

Yet, I feel obligated to write you a song.

To confess the deep affections I hold for you,

And I hope you feel the same way too.

This may seem quick, yet I know you are the one.

You may scoff at me, but my heart cannot be stolen by just anyone.

My feelings for you have changed so much,

Switched with a simple touch.

This love you have given me is a drug,

Intoxicating, addicting and given by hugs.

I assure you that my love for you is not fake,

No, there has been no mistake.

A goblet of pumpkin juice,

Raised to you in truce.

You return the gesture, as if it was planned,

A cup of (f/d) in your hand.

I love everything about you,

I could not say anything more true.

I love how clever you are or how beautiful you always look,

Merlin, if I could write it all down, I’d write a bloody book.

Know that this is no joke.

Your love envelops me like an invisibility cloak.

We’ve stitched our love together with needles and red thread,

It’s about time we’ve set aside our differences and learned to accept them instead.

The world has given me such an amazing girlfriend.

I never want our time together to end.

Love is often called weak, useless, something you should not feel.

You have shown me the hidden strength that love has concealed.

Potions class was where our love first began,

If I were to leave it now, I’d be a mad man.

I wrote this poem for you, filled with endless rhyme,

To show that I love you, (Y/n), until the end of time."

Her heart swelled as he finished. Without thinking, she gave him a tight hug, feeling his body shake as he laughed lightly. Coming back to her senses, she released Draco, feeling slightly embarrassed. She wondered why this poem filled her with happiness while the first poem had disgusted her. What had changed? She used to gag at such a sappy poem, why was she suddenly feeling like she was flying? Why did her heart skip a beat whenever she looked into Draco’s grey eyes? Why did she feel completed whenever she was with him?

She was brought back to reality when she felt Draco kiss her cheek. He pulled back with a grin.

"Did you like it?"

Did she like it? Yes, very much. Even if it was written by Draco, Y/n wasn’t really bothered by that fact anymore. Nobody had ever wrote her a poem, as cheesy as they’ve been. Draco had been the only person to do that.

"Yes." She breathed out.

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

They spent a few more hours at the lake, enjoying each other’s company. Although Y/n didn’t want to admit it, she truly did enjoy the date. (She also refused to call it a date). The sun was beginning to set, changing the sky from bright blue to a beautiful mix of yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples. Y/n’s eyes began to feel heavy as she watched the sun disappear behind the mountains.

"Tired?" Draco asked.

Y/n nodded, causing Draco to shift over to allow her to lay her head in his lap. He took off his robe and wrapped it around her like a blanket.

"Sleep." Draco whispered.

Y/n didn’t need to argue, as she found that she was quickly losing consciousness. Before she fell asleep, she let one last set of thoughts ring through her head.

You do realize this is fake right? This side of Draco, this feeling, it’s all fake.

I know, but I’ve already fallen in too deep.

**********************************************

Hello everyone! The long-awaited Part 5 is finally completed. I'm extremely sorry that it took so long. I really hope that this met your expectations. The poem was probably one of the most difficult things to write, though I pushed through because I wanted poems to be a special thing in this series. I'll try my best to be more on time with Part 6. Thank you for reading. Until next time.

-Jade

[aotopmha]

Attack On Titan Chapter 115 Thoughts

Yeah, looking at the full chapter, Levi isn't dead.

This is frustrating to me for various reasons.

Levi's face is smashed in and it looks like one of his hands is probably unusable, as it seems like fingers were blown off of it and are stuck on the blade he was using:

Hange also dives into the water with him - with that kind of setup, I think it would feel off if he died here.

He might eventually, but that wouldn't feel as weighty to me anymore because he already survived here.

In addition, if Levi dies or survives without having any effect on the plot from here on out, all this dangling of his fate and the cliffhangers were pointless and just there for shock value to keep the readers coming back.

My least favorite part of the serum fight at the end of the Return to Shiganshina arc was how contrived it was. Both, but particularly Armin, surviving that long felt like a pretty big stretch and I think we see some of that here with Levi, too. I think his survival is a pretty big stretch because he took the Thunder Spear head on.

We know the Ackermans could possibly have healing powers since we had a possible hint like that with Mikasa back in chapter 51, so Levi could end up having this kind of healing and it could somehow save him:

We also now know they are products of Titan science, so it would "make sense", but it all still reeks of character favoratism and flies in the face of one of my favorite thematic ideas of the story: the idea that all of the lives of the characters are equally valuable and each character is treated the same way regardless of how major or minor they are. 

Unlike Levi, Armin, for example, was involved in a choice (so either way, one had to go), while this was an individual moment for only Levi alone, singling him out narrative-wise. Most of the big survival moments (Eren, Ymir, Reiner) were also related to Titan powers, making it all specifically dependant on the narrative element of the Titans and leaving the human aspect fairly grounded, only mostly limiting the impossibilities to the Titans. The serum was there the whole arc and the Titans/shifters have specific established abilities that might be twisted and turned, but are still consistent and related to prior abilities.

Armin surviving wasn't as much of a favoratism-filled of a moment to me because of these aspects (the reach/contrivance came from how the situation was set up to me, rather than the components and content of it because it went against the more grounded way of how regular human characters were treated, and I think the only other time this was stretched to it’s limits was with Erwin in chapter 50), but I also don't think Levi is a nearly as well-developed or potential-filled of a character to merit giving him more chances. I think interesting stuff could still be done with Armin and we see glimpses of that, but I don't see much of that with Levi - I think most of the potential in his character was wringed out in the Uprising arc.

He softened up and became more of a protector figure and we saw the results of that in the Return to Shiganshina arc.

Thematically, the contrast between Zeke and Levi was neat, but it was also the general contrast between the SL and Marley. Levi keeping his promise and killing the Beast Titan is also something that the whole SL (specifically those that aren't in fractions working against them at this point) is fighting for in a general sense - it’s one of the SL’s general principles that they fight to make sure all of the sacrifices made by soldiers that came before could have meaning.

There isn't much going on for Levi *specifically*. Anyone could avenge Erwin or defeat Zeke because it would have the same thematic meaning regardless of who does it.

The counter-argument to this would be that Levi had the most fleshed-out relationship with Erwin, but that doesn't really translate to actually doing anything new or interesting with his character.

Plot-wise I can accept him healing, but not completely regenerating. Again, in comparison, I think the Titan stuff with Zeke is also just fine because he actually is a shifter (and has the Founding Titan power at that, the most special of them all) and the whole point of the story and the Titans is that we don't know much about them - not even the characters that know the most about them don't know everything.

This is why I was okay with Reiner surviving in the Shiganshina arc, too. The characters and, by proxy, we, didn’t know everything about his and the others’ powers, that was the point. Their survivals are, again, dependant on the established rules of the Titan element of the series. You could argue there may have also been some reaching with these cases (Reiner in the Shiganshina arc and Zeke here), too, but it is also backed by smart plotting in a different sense - by the fundemental plot design of the series, which is actually a unexpectedly thoughtful detail when it comes to writing.

Many stories don’t actually make the inherit plot structure of the story as part of the thematic point of the story, and you could still see it as an cheap excuse, but I always appreciate whenever that happens because I feel like it shows the writer’s self-awareness and that they are actually thinking about the story and how it would have as few holes as possible. It might seem cheap on the surface, but it’s also smart in it’s own way.

Moving on, though, technically the Ackermans are related to the Titans, but the connection seems to be intended to be pretty loose, so anything that reveals a bigger similarity than just a vague connection automatically feels like a reach to get the plot where it needs to go to me.

I have that problem with the more magical-leaning abilities of the Titans, too - how did we get from regeneration and creating armour to memory manipulation and rewriting the DNA of a whole race?

If they actually turn out to be the same, this is another huge reach and something I am getting tired of - at this point, every Eldian might as well turn out to be a super soldier because they all have a loose connection to the Titans. I could deal with some of the reaches because they were exceptions and they weren’t as big leaps of logic. If these exceptions grow numerous, I can't believe in any of the established rules of the story anymore, be it the point of the plotting or not. There has to be some rhyme and reason to everything from a storytelling POV. 

On the other hand, though, I love AoT's wierd and grotesque imagery and along with that we got some possible details about the Titans, specifically the “paths” cleared up. The whole scene of Zeke regenerating with the help of the mindless Titan was really interesting, nasty and creepy.

I think it also makes it much more likely that Ymir could actually be alive by the end of the story.

Since not being absorbed into a Titan requires willpower and all Eldians are part of a big Titan "mass", the “paths” could work like Evangelion's LCL where a strong will allows the person to not be absorbed into this giant hivemind and remain their own person - it seems something like an invisible network of all of the Titan Shifters and mindless Titans of the past, present and future, maybe even all Eldians - though that's a less certain possibility to me. We know the matter that appears when the shifter transforms also comes from that network (as we learn from Kruger first and for now have confirmed by Xaver):

(Chapter 114)

How the matter is stored, created or appears at all is another thing entirely, but I feel like that’s how the “paths” thing works in the basics, looking at everything we know as of this chapter. So because they are all technically of the same flesh, the mindless Titan could reform Zeke’s body.

Basically, if her death wasn't a fakeout, Ymir (or any other shifter) might technically be able reform themselves, given a strong enough will and presence of appropriate flesh. The current shifters fighting the wills of the previous ones to be reformed back to their own bodies has always been a interesting idea with a bunch of character development/exploration potential to me - such as Eren fighting with the First King/his father/Frieda/Kruger/Tybur (man, he has like 5 people in there at this point), Armin fighting with Bertholdt, Ymir fighting with Porco and so on.

If it’s not something like this specifically, then I feel like these details would be relevant somehow anyway.

Finally, we have the Eren stuff. While talking with Zeke, he basically goes against everything he believed in prior to the development of his more pragmatic perspective.

It's either his father's memories and the moment in the cave having more of an effect on him than we thought or judging by his calm demeanor, him actually appealing to Zeke and manipulating him. In both cases he needs to be smacked.

In the former case, it's him agreeing with Zeke because of his hyperfocus on the moment he went through in the cave and Eren not really having truly grown past it.

In the latter case, I think his plan might actually be to rewrite the Eldians so they wouldn't have the Titan ability anymore.

One steals even more of the freedom of the Eldian people from them by denying their continued existence. The other takes away their only ability to protect themselves against the much better technology of the rest of the world and lessens their chance of survival even more, even if it removes the Titans from the world.

I think Mikasa, Armin and everyone else have to reach Eren and return the favor he did for them - telling him to fight again.

Also, hi there Pieck, I'm curious what you're planning to do.

This was a pretty alright chapter - I wish Levi died because I think it would've been a much better writing choice in comparison to the options we have now - if he dies later, I feel like it wouldn’t have the same weight, if he miraculously recovers, it's a massive stretch, if he is injured and gets no plot importance from this point on, this was all pointless shock value drama and if he pulls some miracle stunts while injured, it's also a pretty big stretch.

I think a swift death by the hands of Zeke would've been much more thematically powerful and interesting in comparison to the alternatives we seem to have now.

The most optimal option with the current situation I see is Levi mattering in a stealthy way - with a seemingly small action that matters a lot.

I guess prove me wrong and make this good, AoT, you've done it before.

I found everything else pretty interesting, though.

This back and forth between who is manipulating who between Eren and Zeke is the longest, most dragged-out seesaw game ever. It drags, but I still want to know where it eventually goes.

It might be Eren still not having moved past his moment in the cave or it might be him manipulating Zeke. These are the two options I see, but I’m not entirely sure which I lean towards because both have some holes. Maybe slightly more towards the first option because I feel like his talk with Zeke is more consistent with his talk in the cave, but I’m not sure.

The details about the paths through the Zeke scene were nice and actually did possibly tie up some loose ends about how the Titans work, just like all the info in the previous chapter.

This is such a strange chapter to me as a result. Great, interesting stuff and not so great stuff together and much of it's quality also being dependant on how it all pans out in the long run.

We'll see.

[techmomma]

A Little Perspective

Perspective is a tricky, fickle fairy to master. Our entire lives are lived in perspective, we see it from the day we’re born. We know what’s far, near, middling, when something is above or below us, we’ve seen perspective since the day we were born, we’ve seen it longer than we’ve known what hands and eyes look like—the things most artists know that even small mistakes can spell disaster for.

Which is why when perspective is off in an image, we know. Even if we’re not good at perspective, we know. Which is part of why perspective is such a tricky, tricksy principle to master.

In order to master perspective, you must have a solid foundation in the facets and aspects of perspective. Different types of perspective, vanishing points, horizon lines, everything. Your tower will fall without a foundation.

How do you build a foundation? With the basics. And yes. That goes for you advanced artists too (like me!!). This is the same shit that every artist has to go over, again and again and again.

Until you die. Or stop doing art. Whichever comes first.

So what is the first element to master when learning perspective? That, dear readers, is the humble…

Dot.

Open a sketch page, be it digital or traditional, and make a dot.

Congratulations, you’ve mastered the first element of perspective.

The dot on your sketchpage represents what is called a vanishing point, or sometimes a point of convergence. The vanishing point is the point at which two parallel lines will converge in the distance, or essentially, the farthest your eyes can see. (Not really, but for the sake of learning this aspect before I introduce horizon lines, you can consider it so.) Fun fact: in real life, if you stand on ground that is perfectly flat, that distance is actually about five miles! Go about 100 feet up and that distance increases to about 20 miles. Neat!

Now what I’d like you to do is around the dot, somewhere on the page, draw three shapes, or polygons. A square, a triangle, and a circle. Anywhere on the page, just make sure they have some breathing room, like this.

Something like that will do. Plenty of room for each, we aren’t going to get overlap.

Now we’re going to give these shapes depth. These are going to be 3D shapes, with their flat faces toward us, and their back halves receding into the distance. So what you’re going to do is head to that triangle. Now I want you to draw a line from each vertex (corner) to the vanishing point. And do the same with the square, while you’re at it. Leave the circle alone, we’ll get to that one later. You should have an image sorta like this now, with lots of lines.

Those lines are going to help determine the edges of the forms you’re making! You actually have a 3D shape here, one that extends way out into the distance! It’s transparent right now, because you can see the secret edge that you wouldn’t be able to see normally, if these shapes were opaque. Watch what happens when I make the line on that secret edge dotted.

Does it look 3D now? Just watch for now. How about if I delete that back line entirely?

Yeah, lots more 3D! I’ll  make those lines black…

Oh those definitely look like 3D shapes now! Receding off into the distance! Now, obviously, there aren’t many blocks that recede off for miles into the distance, right? So let’s shorten these down. Pick an arbitrary spot somewhere along the long side of the triangular prism, and make a line from edge to edge--making sure it’s parallel from the corresponding edge on the triangle. Do it again for the square shape, making sure your new lines are connected.

Now erase some of the lines from those new corners you made, all the way down to the vanishing point.

Now we have polyhedrons! 3D objects! Objects that are in perspective! All of these objects are actually parallel to each other: you’d see it if you looked at them from a top-down perspective! The reason their lines appear to converge in the distance is the same reason that you can look at a straight street or pair of railroad tracks for miles, extending into the horizon, and the lines eventually appear to converge at a point. 

But that same street is going to look like this from above. They never actually converge! This is the illusion of depth.

Going back to our shapes! 

“Ah, but what about circle friend there?” you ask. No, circle is not a friend. Circle is the shitlord who steals your money in a backalley and leaves you minus a kidney. Circle is an asshole.

Circle is already technically in perspective, but what we’re going to do is make a cylinder. A long tube-y thing, you know them from using them to whap people after you’ve used all the wrapping paper. Traditionally, you would use a ruler to find the tangent point of the circle to create the “edge” of the cylinder. Now you can use an actual jpeg of a ruler like I did here.

But most digital programs these days have a line tool, and you can just put one point on the vanishing point, and extend the other out past the circle and move it around until the line and circle intersect, like this.

And erase some of the line extending past the circle.

WOO! We have a cylinder extending into the distance past our sight!

But… now what do we do to shorten it? That requires getting around circle’s asshole nature. We can do this in a digital program by duplicating the circle, and shrinking it down. (In a traditional setting, you’d need to eyeball the angle of the circle’s curve.) After you’ve shrunk it down some, move it so that the circumference is touching the lines headed to the vanishing point, in two places, like this.

That’s actually what you were doing, drawing those lines to shorten the cube and triangular prism way back at the beginning! You were making duplicate planes of the faces... facing us. You were making another 2D square, and a 2D triangle.

Now just erase some of those lines, like you did before with the square and triangle.

Look!! You have a cylinder! A transparent cylinder!

Now to make it a fully opaque 3D object, like the square and triangle, go to the smaller circle and erase some of it. It’s a little harder to tell with a cylinder where to erase, so here are the dotted lines showing the obscured parts.

Now let’s erase those obscured lines fully.

Ta-da! We just created a 3D cylinder, in correct perspective!! Cylinders are hard!! 

Honestly, a lot of perspective stuff is typically learned traditionally with rulers and pencils and string and imo, physically handling and learning perspective in such a way was super helpful and informative for me. That really taught me how to do perspective and I highly suggest starting out with pencil, paper, and a ruler, if you can. If not, that’s okay! There’s still lots of ways to learn.

Repetition is also key here. You have to build muscle and brain memory with perspective. I recommend doing this practice a good ten, fifteen more times, until you really start to get a feel for this! And do it every day, for a week. Or y’know, five times every day for three weeks. Do different, simple shapes, like rectangles, more squares, triangles, and when you get comfortable, try for things like pentagons, stars, plus signs, diamonds, crescents, so on and so forth.

If you have questions or you did this exercise and you’re just not getting it, or did this exercise and would like to see if you did it correctly, please do feel free to visit my inbox! I’m always happy to help.

Next will be horizon lines and one-point perspectives!

[ticklikeabomb]

The Language of Limbo  - Part 6

Pairing : Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader ; Marvel Cast x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language ; Angst ; Drinking problem ; mention of throwing up ; fluff

Word Count : 2k

The shooting began 3 months and a half ago and you were all entering the last week of the shooting. Today's shooting was special because you would finally shoot the scene at the mansion where you received the 'good' news to be part of Marvel. The production rented a private jet and you all flew to Los Angeles to debut the end of the production. You took a seat and saw everyone look at the seat beside you, without actually sitting on it. You were accustomed by now, to their little looks and didn't mind it, if it would benefit you in being left alone and in peace. You took place at the end of the engine, hidden from everyone but unfortunately your seat had a prime view to the people on the other side who were none other than Rebecca and Chris, all lovey dovey, cuddled together. By cuddled, it was more like Rebecca was stepping on Chris' space with her tight across his lap. He kept his hand on her leg but from his facial expression you clearly could see that he was being oppressed by her presence. His eyes locked with yours once in a pleading mode and you just turned your head at your right indifferent, looking at the clouds. The waitress asked you if you wanted something to drink and you whispered to her to bring you the strongest thing she had in store. Her eyes widened but didn't question it further. She came back with a glass and the bottle. You thanked her before stopping her hand and indicating her to leave the bottle. That's when she was about to question you but you didn't let her the chance and said, "I'm afraid of highs and planes. Please? It helps." It technically wasn't a lie but the wound was much deeper. She eventually left the bottle and you in peace. You hid the bottle and took it discretely everytime your glass emptied.

"You should go easy with that", whispered RDJ beside you. You rolled your eyes before turning to the source, who was already occupying the seat next to yours. You fake smiled at him but he kept a firm and worried expression. "I don't like planes", you replied. He chuckled before asking you the one question you were avoiding. "What about on set? Mixing it with coffee, if we could call that a coffee. Being completely wasted. I still don't know how you managed to keep it neat during the scenes but once the directors would yell 'Cut', you would stumble on your feet." You laughed, a mix of amusement and pain. "What can I say? I guess I'm a good actress then", you replied sarcastically. You didn't stop there. "Apparently I'm so good that I managed to turn everyone against me without knowing why. Well I have an idea how but I'm afraid there's a better player in here", you said while glaring at Rebecca with a look full of hatred. He followed your gaze and his suspicions were cleared. "I knew she was shady. It's just that vibe of hers and concerning you, I'm not against you." This time you couldn't contain your laughter to the point that several other actors turned their heads to you.

"Pff such a freak", commented Rebecca. That's when you lost your cool. "Hey Rebecca why don't you chock on a dick and leave me the fuck alone? Oh wait, I'm pretty sure you already do that." Your comment made some gag and Elisabeth laugh. "Oh you find that funny? At least I finally got a reaction from YOU", you said towards Elizabeth whose smile faltered and bowed her head. "Y/N that's enough. Your behavior has been anything but kind and professional. I -..", stated Chris but you cut him with a laugh. "You still here?", you told him in sarcasm not really bothering to get an answer. "And ohh by the way I'm still waiting for that thank you note regarding your bday present but I guess I'm not worthy to receive that from the one and only Captain America, the most righteous man on Earth", you continued between giggles, the liquor getting the best of you. "Ohhhkayy, come on", said RDJ while helping you stand up and leading you to a more seclude place. That's what you thought but he led you to the bathroom. "Wtf are we doing here?", you asked in confusion. "Kneel and throw up !", he said with a firm tone. "What?"

"You need to get it out of your system. Either you kneel and do it yourself or I'm helping you", he stated with his arms crossed. "Just because your RDJ doesn't give you the right to-." He stepped closer, "Y/N, I'm trying to help you here. I know what's like to be prisoned by those demons and trust me, it will end you. Not only physically but especially mentally. If you're not willing to do it for yourself, I'm doing it for you because I believe in you. I believe in your talent, I believe that you were the one for Y/C/N and I BELIEVE IN YOU." His words shot daggers in your heart and you couldn't contain your tears. You fell to the ground, holding yourself tightly while bitting on your lip to not yell your pain and frustration out. He sat beside you and embraced you in comfort. "I know, I know", he kept whispering until you calmed down. 

You stepped closer to the toilets and before doing what you were about to do, you advised Robert to leave. "Nope, I'm staying with you. You don't need to be alone anymore." You nodded weekly and a few silent tears streamed down, while you tried to purge the booze from your system. Robert stepped closer and held your hair off your face while looking away. Once you were done, he mentioned he was just stepping outside to get you some water and aspirin. "Robert? Could you please text Aaron through my phone and tell him I need him, with a red cross emoji. He'll know what that means", you whispered with a raspy voice, shame and pain flashing in your eyes. He nodded, "Of course Y/N." "Thank you, for everything !" He nodded and exited the bathroom. 

"Is everything alright with Y/N?", asked Hemsworth and Scarlet while they stood outside the bathroom. The fifty year-old only had to give them a knowing look for them to understand that it wasn't. Before he walked away to get the water, he looked both of his colleagues and quietly said, " You can do and believe however you want but I'm not giving up on Y/N and I surely wont stand on Rebecca's side." His words triggered the others insecurities and they sighed. "I've been thinking about this shit show for days now and talking with Hiddleston put some perspective in my mind and from now on I'm standing behind Y/N !", commented Hemsworth before leaving Scarlet and take his designated seat.

The actress not knowing what to do, walked to her seat and took her phone out. She typed frantically and showed it to Elizabeth who was standing beside her.

Lizzie's face turned crimson and she clenched her jaw, still not facing Scarlet. The actress retrieved her phone again before typing away and shoving it back to Elisabeth's lap.  

Lizzie took a deep breath before finally replying.

Scarlet kept pushing on Lizzie. She needed to know the truth, she needed to know if she's was being a jerk to you, if she was an accomplice of some kind of vendetta against you, ruining your life in the process.

Lizzie grabbed the phone tightly, typing furiously and silent tears sliding down her face in shame.

Scarlet's face paled at the last message. She looked up at the actress with widened eyes and saw her quickly clean her face so that no one would see how upset she was. Scarlet closed her eyes and shook her head in anger and disappointment, upset she was mislead by an outsider. Scarlet saved the draft preciously as prove material.

You exited the bathroom, sat down on your seat and drank on the water along the aspirin, Robert gave you. "Thanks", you mumbled. "Here take this and try to rest a little. There's 3 hours left until we land", he said while handing you a cosy blanket. You nodded and turned around, facing the window and trying to forget about how you fell so quickly in an abyss. You were woken up 3 hours later by Scarlet slowly shaken you and calling you. "Y/N? Wake up we've arrived", she sweetly said. You woke up with a terrible headache and frowned when you saw her shyly smile at you. "Scarlet? Why are you here with me, I mean waken me up?", you mumbled while cracking your back. She squeezed your hand tightly and looked deeply into you soul. "I'm so sorry. For showing you the cold shoulder and for my behavior. I hope you find the strength to forgive me", she said with a cracking voice. Your eyebrows raised, taken aback by this sudden change but saw the sincerity emanating of her. You nodded not being able to turn her off, not after seeing and feeling how truthful she was but also because it wasn't in your nature. "Yeah ok, I forgive you." She let out the breath she was holding and leaned forward embracing you. You awkwardly hugged her back still not recovered from your hangover but glad that things were looking forwards for once.

You arrived at the Studios and settled down in your new trailer, feeling like some drummer was doing the performance of his life inside your head. You took another aspirin before crashing once again on the bed and falling asleep. Because you've been early to bed, you woke up along with the sunshine. You cleaned yourself and headed out, enjoying the magnificent star rise and the sky switch his color pallet from orange to blueish. "It's beautiful isn't it?", the voice you came to love commented. He placed himself next to you and impregnated himself with the scenery in front of him. "Yeah all these colors. It is indeed beautiful." Mason chuckled before replying, "Oh the sky? Nah I was referring myself to something else. Someone else." A sad expression crossed your features at the mention of him liking someone that wasn't potentially you. Every day since you started the production you grew closer and closer to the point that so did your feelings. His next comment caught you out of your thoughts. "Yeah it's such a shame that the one I'm fond of is so oblivious about my feelings for her." You nodded still with that small sad expression that caught his attention. He smiled and said, "She's in a rough place at the moment but I will stand beside her, no matter what." You turned your face to him, shocked and not completely believing he was referring to you from the beginning. His hand caressed your cheek and looked in your eyes. "Having a chance to be with her, even the slightest, is worth the wait." You hand reached his and when you were about to drop a small kiss on it, someone cleared his voice harshly. Mason broke the contact and stepped slightly back. He gave a deadly look to Chris (Evans) who dared to interrupt his intimate moment with you. Chris clenched his jaw, upset. "May I talk to you Y/N?", he asked firmly and giving a deadly look back at Mason. You took a deep breath before answering, "I'm sorry Chris but can it be for later. I'm in the middle of something important." You didn't gave him the opportunity to reply back and dragged Mason along with you for breakfast. Chris clenched his fists, annoyed that you turned him off for Mason.

* gif not mine, credit to owner* * screens are mine*

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221 @introvertedsin@robertconradjr @francezka10  @titty-teetee @breezy1415

SERIES TAG LIST : @halee-bear @sanellv @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive @teatimewithhiddles @mooniessuniverse @meggie-mouse-28 @krissyq @moviefan97 @morningstar09 @cocomel0613  @katelynmarieyt @dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa @seality @azure-marine @november-ash  @everything-is-awesomesauce

[tarexippus]

@fahleren tagged me to list my favorite characters from ten fandoms and then tag ten people! Now as a token indecisive bitch these are in no particular order. ALSO SPOILER WARNING I'M WRITING MY OPINIONS FROM A PERSPECTIVE OF WHERE I AM IN THE SERIES. IN SOME CASES, THAT MEANS I'VE ALREADY FINISHED IT.

1) Freckle- The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: what's not to love? Genderfluid bicon with a lot to say.... As a genderfluid bicon with a lot to say I'm legally obligated to list freckle. If i had to give any more solid evidence, they're such an incredible actor, and i really aspire to match that level of talent. The scene where Len asks them if theyre ok and they deliver the iconic "I'm perfect." line? The "sometimes... Things that are expensive... Are worse." monologue? An idol through and through.

2) Torbjorn Lindholm- Overwatch: now i kinda thought of him as a joke but really he's a good character! He's an incredibly intelligent engineer and while he doesn't have much lore i do admire his sense of justice and his inherent good naturedness. Also he canonically fucks severely sawr......

3) Taako Taaco- The Adventure Zone: now i gotta disclaim this to say that I've only listened to about five episodes but as expected i LOVE taako. He's gay, he's feminine, he's got a strong sense of aesthetic and GLITZ.... Again i find him clinically relatable and also as a fellow longhair femme i gotta give respect to my man.

4) Naruto Uzumaki- Naruto: man i just think he's really fun. He's got a lot of really cool respectable abilities and he's got an inherent sense of kindness within him that shines through in almost all aspects. I love the way his character development goes and i especially love how he befriends the biju in the end. What a guy.

5) Rukia Kuchiki/Yumichika Ayasegawa- Bleach: this one is a tie so sue me. I love Rukia because she's got a really strong character and i just really love her consistent characterization, but also how she grows; starting out stubborn and headstrong but ultimately dependent on every other's validation, and ending strong and reliable and self sufficient. I also think her Zanpakuto and her bankai are some of the coolest and also some of the strongest, i really would have loved to see more of either or both. I really love Yumichika because he's got such an interesting obsession with his looks and aesthetic (much that i do- relatable) but it definitely belies an insecurity inside. I really like how he's technically as or more powerful than Ikkaku, but stunts himself for the sake of an arbitrary aesthetic" definitely a symbolic thing. Again, i really love his Zanpakuto, how it shares his inner sense of narcissism and even mentions how itd like to kill Yumichika for calling him a name it doesnt like. I also think how it "sulks" and doesn't reach full power because of an arbitrary aesthetic- a very tasty parallel that i love. I also really like the azure version of it's shikai.... Flowers.

6) John Egbert- Homestuck: I just really love how at the beginning he's kind if an "everyman" and doesnt have much characterization at all so that the reader feels invited to project on him. This leads itself nicely into slyly adding bits and pieces of characterization until he's a fully fleshed character without a majority of the fanbase having realized it, yet still maintaining a fondness towards him as if he's an old friend. Whether or not it was intentional i think it was an absolutely delightful tactic, and one i would love to see utilized more often. I also love the symbolic exploration he goes through in discovering his powers, starting out with the wind unconciously protecting him and ending with him literally beign able to rewrite the canon of the story; i think it parallels his character development nicely and ties back to the main themes of the story as a whole just delightfully. I also just think his retconning ability is fucking cool.

7) Deadpool- Marvel: i think he really is a bicon as we know it. He's funny, he's morally ambiguous, he's canadian, the whole monty! He really is the epitome of "i want to do something, i do it and i dont regret it." which i really strive to achieve. Also, deadpool kills marvel is my favorite comic of all time.

8) Bart Curlish- Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency: i think she's a really neat character. I love how she just straight up cannot be harmed unless dirk will be hurt and then her ability just... Nullifies. I think it's really interesting how lots of her dialogue parallels with dirk's dialogue and i just think she has so much depth and characterization to explore.

9) Pearl- Steven Universe: again, i just really love her depth and characterization. I love to see how she gets past all these mental blocks she puts on herself; how she substitutes garnet for rose in forming sardonyx, how she followed 'pink's' last order to a fault, how she thinks of everyone but herself.... I just think she's a neat, round character.

10) Pik- Coupon Kids: i think they're just an incredibly funny and interesting character... Why do they have such a relationship with their father? Why can they remove their mouth from the equation and how can they make more eyes spontaneously appear on their face? Why does creating more eyes make them nauseous? I just think that like any good character they leave the audience with a lot of questions but makes them laugh the whole time theyre asking the questions. I also love how they act like a rock to quat despite how chaotic they are. What an icon truly.

Ill tag @skingustus @snirti @trovairitz @partyinthecloudkingdom @dadpresident @dadspacito @grandgardenlover @peachpitdreams @gay-jesus-probably @spidermans-butt

(I was just tagging mutuals- if you wanna do this go ahead! Conversely, if you were tagged and don't wanna do it, don't feel obligated to, it's just for fun!)

[pixiedst]

No Takebacks // Kim Taehyung

Genre: Angst

Characters: Kim Taehyung x reader (ft. Park Jimin)

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, swearing

Summary: With a mad scientist as a father, Kim Taehyung travels back in time to win the reader’s heart.

Word Count: 5,318 

“Taehyung!” Jimin calls. “Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

Kim Taehyung comes running down the stairs, his dark hair a mess, backpack slung on one shoulder and the top buttons of his uniform undone. He rushes to put on his new shoes and trips on his way out of the house, slamming the door shut and into Park Jimin’s car.

Jimin chuckles as he watches his friend run his hands through his hair in a lame attempt to keep it down. With his left hand on the wheel, he steps down on the gas and drives down the road.

“What time is it?” Taehyung asks, fixing his buttons. “My phone’s dead.”

“That’s why you didn’t answer any of my calls. Hey your shoelaces are untied.” Jimin says. When his friend gives him a look, he laughs. “Don’t worry, we still have half an hour before first period.”

“What? Then why’d you say we were gonna be late?” Taehyung asks, raising his voice.

Jimin only laughs at his reaction. “I didn’t feel like waiting for you outside your house like I was picking you up for a date.”

“God, you’re unbelievable! You messed up the timeline!” he yells, slouching in his seat.

“What are you talking about?” Jimin asks.

This is when Taehyung only realizes his slip of the tongue and decides to stay quiet. He looks out the window as if he didn’t hear.

The trees and buildings go by like they’re running. He watches the blur through the glass, reminiscing on the way the world looked like that when he came back.

Disguised by the look of a regular watch, Taehyung’s Time Manipulator wraps itself tightly around his wrist, feeling heavier every second as he slowly reaches the school building.

Having a mad scientist as a father isn’t exactly something to be proud of but it has its perks. This is one of them. He’s never travelled back so far in time before, but after practicing every night while his dad was asleep, he’s almost sure he can do this right. He has a mission. That’s why he’s here. He’s willing to set things right and change the way things ended up being in the future.

He’s thought about this. He knows the Grandfather Paradox, where somebody goes back in time to kill their grandfather before the conception of their mother or father, which only prevents the time traveller’s overall existence.

But he’s not going to kill anybody. He’s not crazy. He only wants to change one little thing, which he’s sure isn’t going to affect anybody’s lives drastically but his own.

He’s going to get Y/N before Min Yoongi does. He failed before but with this second chance, he’s not going to let that happen again.

Jimin parks the car, and before he even turns off the ignition, Taehyung gives him a quick thanks for the ride, opens the door and almost leaps out of the car to get to his first class.

He didn’t do this last time. Ten years ago, well in his perspective, he was almost late for class and made it just in time to see the girl of his dreams sitting next to another boy. Of course, this wasn’t a big deal at the time, but if he changes this one little moment and gets that seat before the other boy does, he might have a better chance of getting Y/N’s love.

Getting this new idea makes him silently thank Jimin for lying to him about being late. Messing up the timeline by just a little bit might actually get him what he wants. He makes a mental note to promise Jimin ice cream later in the afternoon.

Just as he hoped, the classroom is still empty. He takes the seat next to the one he remembers Y/N sat in before. As he places his bag on the floor, he begins to realize just how weird this might look. If he remembers properly, he was never early for class. Granted, he was never late either. But it would still be a strange sight to see Kim Taehyung sitting inside the classroom at least fifteen minutes before the actual class begins.

With this thought in mind, he takes his bag again, slings it over his right shoulder and steps out of the room. He decides to buy a quick snack from the vending machine and a water bottle and roams around the hallway, waiting for students to come inside.

A couple minutes pass and he takes his phone to check the time before remembering its state. Huffing a breath, he shoves it back in his pocket and peeks through the window to look at the clock.

Would this be the right time to go inside? Y/N isn’t here yet. It wouldn’t be weird to be sitting next to her old seat, would it? It’s not like the teacher is strict about this kind of stuff anyway. But what if she sits somewhere else? He can’t just stand up and take the seat next to her. That’d be creepy, and that’s the last thing he wants to be. He wants her to like him, not get creeped out.

After being lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn’t notice Y/N passing by him and walking straight inside the classroom. The only reason he breaks out of his trance is because he recognizes those shoes. They were her favorite pair.

His heart begins to beat harder in his chest. He pats his hands all over his head in another attempt to fix his hair. Giving up, he waits a few seconds before going inside the room. He watches her find her seat, which is the same one as he remembers. And just as he hoped, the seat next to her is empty.

Score!

He makes his move. He steps toward her area, and just as he makes his way closer, his eyes catch the same boy from ten years ago on his way to the same target. He can’t let this happen again.

Faster than he expected, Taehyung surprises himself as he dashes for the empty seat. Although he makes it, he also gets everybody’s attention, including Y/N’s. The room is suddenly silent as all eyes are on him.

He racks his mind for an excuse and blurts out the first thing he can think of. “My shoelaces are untied. Just slipped a bit. Don’t worry about me.” For evidence, he raises his left leg to show his untied laces.

Everybody goes back to their regular conversations, almost forgetting him. Taehyung releases a sigh of relief and sits more comfortably on the seat. He does as he did years ago, placing his bag on the floor, pulling out his textbook, notebook and pens. The only difference is that he’s sitting next to Y/N. He places his right hand over his watch, silently thanking it for its power.

The class goes on as usual, and just like before, Taehyung doesn’t understand a single word coming out of their teacher’s mouth. Numbers and Xs and Ys and other weird symbols next to them still confuse him.

In the corner of his eye, he can see Y/N nodding and answering along the class, writing down notes that somehow look neat. She’s always been smart. He liked that about her. Even ten years later when she gets married and announces the birth of her first daughter, he never let his feelings for her die down because he knew what his dad was working on all this time. He had this plan in mind for years.

Maybe he’s not so different from his mad scientist of a father.

Before he knows it, the bell rings and all the students to get up, get their things, and rush out, not caring what their teacher is announcing.

He presses his lips together as he slowly gathers his things. With Y/N doing the same next to him, he isn’t in much of a rush as the others are. When he’s almost done, his teacher calls him over.

“Taehyung. Can I have a word with you?” she calls.

This didn’t happen before. He pushes the thought aside and walks toward his teacher.

“Anything wrong, Miss?” he asks.

She lets out a sigh. That can’t be good. “Your grades are dropping. You’re a smart kid, Taehyung. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m starting to think you might need a tutor.”

His eyes light up like a million stars. Ten years ago, he wouldn’t have had that reaction. He probably would have even whined about it, but now it looks like a gigantic door of opportunity has opened up.

“That’s a great idea!” he says. “Maybe someone from this class? So I wouldn’t be uncomfortable?”

“I was thinking of a teacher-“

“No! I get… squeamish around teachers. I’m- wooh, I’m already kind of losing my breath here, Miss. I might need a trusty classmate to do the job. Someone with top grades, listens in class all the time, takes perfect notes…”

Can it be any more obvious?

Thankfully, the teacher gets it. “You know what, that’s a good idea. Y/N!”

She walks towards her, getting her attention. It feels like Taehyung’s heart is going to leap out of his chest.

Thank God!

This is finally his chance to get to know her. Of course, throughout the years after this, he’s already known so much about her—they were friends, after all. But he’s sure that getting this new opportunity is going to let him see more sides to her and, if things goes as he wishes, maybe she’ll be able to open up to him. That would be the biggest step to achieve his goal. All he has to do is be a good student.

He watches her nod at the offer, their teacher telling her how this is going to be extra credit for her. Knowing Y/N, she would never pass on an opportunity of extra points like this.

“How does every Wednesday sound to you?” she asks, her eyes meeting his for the first time this whole day.

The sudden eye contact makes him want to melt on the spot, but he holds onto the nearest seat and leans on it cooly, pretending to be calm.

“Um, maybe we can meet more than just once a week? I really need to pass this subject. My parents would kill me if I fail or even get below a B,” Taehyung says.

Technically, he’s not lying.

Y/N thinks for a moment, considering the suggestion before nodding. “Alright. Are you okay with meeting up every Saturday too?”

“Yes!” he says a little too loudly. He clears his throat and brushes his nose. “Yeah. That’s, uh, that’s cool with me.”

“Okay! I’ll see you on Wednesday after class,” she says, flashes a smile, and leaves the classroom.

He watches her leave. When she’s finally out of sight, he releases a heavy sigh and laughs out loud, forgetting the presence of his teacher, who simply gives him a strange look. He doesn’t even care. He’s gonna be meeting the girl of his dreams more often than he expected.

Stealing his dad’s Time Manipulator was the best idea he ever thought of. Everything is going just the way he hoped for!

-

It’s Wednesday afternoon. There was a car accident just over an hour ago so there’s crazy traffic outside the school. As much as Taehyung would pity whoever was involved in the crash, he can’t help but feel a surge of excitement in his veins. It kind of makes him feel guilty. Normally he’d sympathize. But right now, waiting for a bus that won’t arrive any time soon makes him strangely happy.

Y/N stands next to him, watching the trail of cars in front of them, a small breeze making her hair flow. It’s like Taehyung is watching a movie. How can someone be so beautiful?

When she feels his stare, she averts her gaze to him, making him look away. At the corner of his eye, he sees her turn her head back to the traffic.

She lets out a sigh. “What do we do now? If we don’t get to your house soon, we can’t start our lesson. Should we just postpone-“

“No!” he says before stopping himself. She looks at him. “Uh, I mean, we can still make it. Why don’t we just walk a bit and ride a train?”

“I don’t really like trains, but I guess we don’t have a choice,” she says. “Let’s go, then.”

She walks ahead, with Taehyung quickly following, making their way to the nearest train station. It’s a five or so minute walk.

Outside he’s completely calm, but he’s really just hiding the excitement that’s bubbling on the inside. He’s walking next to Y/N, going to his house. Normally in Korea, that would be a big deal, but she isn’t the type of person to care about going to other people’s homes. She’s just so comfortable with people, and that’s what he loves about her.

When they find seats in the train, Y/N rubs her eyes and yawns as she scrolls through her phone.

“Are you tired?” Taehyung asks.

She nods slowly. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I had a chemistry test today and had to stay up to study. I’ll try to do my best today, though.”

“You can sleep for a bit. We won’t be there for a couple of minutes. I’ll wake you up when we’re there,” he says.

She nods again and puts her phone in her bag. Taehyung can tell she’s falling asleep quickly because of the sudden calmness of her breaths. He smiles a bit and takes out his phone, checking all his social media. It’s funny seeing all the old posts again and memes that are trending in this time. It’s quite amusing.

Suddenly he feels a weight on his right shoulder. His body freezes. Turning his head slowly, he sees her head leaning on him. His heart is beating so fast, he wonders if she can hear it.

He begins to slow his breathing to calm himself down. He can’t keep moving his shoulders if he doesn’t want to wake her. Glancing up, he looks at the small map showing the train’s direction and finds that they have two stops left. He sighs. If only they can stay like this a little longer.

When the train is almost at their stop, he uses his left arm and gently shakes her shoulder, trying to wake her up. It doesn’t take long. Within a few seconds, she begins to stir and her eyes open.

She doesn’t move her head yet, like she’s taking in the situation. When she realizes why the world is tilted to the side, she jerks up and keeps her eyes on the floor as she fixes her hair.

“I- sorry,” she stutters.

Taehyung holds back his laughter. “Don’t be sorry. It’s fine.”

If only she knows how fast his heart is beating right now, watching her as her cheeks flush. He unconsciously touches his watch again as they wait for the train to arrive.

“New watch?” she asks, trying to ease the tension. But Taehyung only feels more tense. “You didn’t have that on a few days ago. I noticed you keep touching it, so I figured it’s new.”

He takes his hand off the device. “This? Oh, it’s my dad’s. He gave it to me.”

He only lied about the second part. Technically, at this time, his dad hadn’t finished it yet so it wasn’t given to him. He didn’t steal anything either since everything in the future hasn’t happened. But what about the watch? Is he gonna wear it forever? Even when they’re together? What happens if he takes it off?

“Tae?” Y/N asks. “Tae. We’re here.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles a reply even he doesn’t understand and follows Y/N out. They head straight for the exit, going to his house.

The walk is silent. He can’t tell what she’s thinking about, but he does notice her occasionally looking at him. He pretends not to notice. When they reach his front door, he types in the pass code, with Y/N respectfully looking away and they step inside.

It’s just how he left it. Messy as usual. In the future Taehyung is much more organized and clean, but he remembers that in this time, he’s messier and dirty. He awkwardly takes his shoes off and scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry about the mess. I thought my mother would- right. She had to go to work early today, and my dad’s always in his lab,” he says. “Totally my fault. My room is cleaner, I promise.”

When they get there, they get to work straight away. The textbook is out, along with their notebooks and pens, and Y/N starts explaining everything to him. It doesn’t feel like it, but three hours fly by quickly. When Y/N checks her phone, her eyes widen.

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” Taehyung says.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, that’s not it. I’m just surprised you survived three hours of math and didn’t spontaneously combust.”

They laugh at that. She’s right. Normally, when he was this age, he would’ve slammed the book shut in three minutes and grumble to himself about how much he doesn’t need this subject. But now he does. He needs her.

The front door slams shut.

“Must be my dad. He’s probably going out to get more stupid materials for another invention,” he says, rolling his eyes for effect.

She closes her textbook and puts her things away. “I need a reward,” she says.

Taehyung shrugs. “Sure. What kind? Ice cream? Tteokbokki?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Can I get a tour of your dad’s lab? I’ve always wanted to see inventions in the making.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s go then. He won’t be back until a couple of hours.”

Some families use basements as storage rooms, others use it as a lab for a mad scientist to make his crazy intentions. It’s like stepping into a whole other world. The walls are covered in bookshelves and whiteboards with drawings and arrows, making a confusing mind map. Blueprints blanket over the long tables with crazy things like tubes and cake sitting on top of them. When Y/N asks about the cake, Taehyung tells her to ignore it.

At the back of the room, where there’s no light, is another shelf but covered in a white sheet. Curious, Y/N steps toward it. Taehyung doesn’t stop her. She pulls the sheet down, revealing everything his father created. There are labels taped on them for identification whether they are failed devices or successful. To her dismay, most of them have the letter F on them, with only one labelled with an S. Carefully, she picks it up.

“What does this do?” she asks.

Taehyung turns around and examines it. He flips it over and sees a little name that says Time Resetter, and suddenly he his limbs feel like jelly. He almost drops it, but Y/N catches it in time.

“Sorry, it got too heavy,” he lies.

He’s been doing that a lot lately.

“What does it do?” she asks again.

He shakes his head. “Nothing important. Some kind of resetter or whatever. Whatever, it’s another useless thing my dad made.”

Y/N grazes her hand over the devices on the shelf, the dust of each one getting on her fingers. These are the things Taehyung’s genius father created, and he calls them useless? Sure, they don’t work perfectly or have completely failed, but just because some things don’t go right doesn’t mean it’s the end of everything. His father failed to make some of the things he dreamed of creating, but from the looks of the things around them, it doesn’t seem to have stopped him at all.

She turns around, walking past Taehyung and heading straight for the blueprints blanketing over the long table, curious to find out what his father is working on now.

“A ‘Time Manipulator’?” she asks, picking up one of the blueprints.

Taehyung feels his blood turning cold. He pushes away the urge to run over and take the blueprint out of her hands and crumple it to pieces. That would only make him look suspicious. He has to play it cool.

“What, like time travel? Is my dad really working on that?” he forces a laugh. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Y/N shrugs. “Hey, if he can make something called a Time Resetter then I wouldn’t be surprised if he can actually pull this off. Your dad is smart, Tae.”

The watch feels heavier on his wrist. He covers it with his other hand, feeling a tinge of guilt swell in his chest. He knows what he’s doing is wrong. So many things could happen and mess up his plan, but he took the risk anyway. He knows this. What he doesn’t know is Y/N’s gaze meeting his awkwardly placed hands.

“Are you okay?” she suddenly asks.

“What?” he says almost too quickly.

“Didn’t you cough?”

“Cough? I’m not si-“ the sound of a man’s coughs interrupts him. Taehyung and Y/N look at each other, frozen. He mouths, “My dad.”

The door begins to open, and faster than he could imagine, Taehyung rushes to Y/N and tugs on her arm, bringing her to the bottom of a table far from the one they were standing by, away from the light. He pulls her body close to make sure neither of them are seen.

Seconds after, Taehyung’s father steps inside the room, clearing his throat. He places a small bag of what seems to be medicine. He’s sick, Taehyung thinks to himself. He wasn’t sick before.

He ignores this thought and continues to stay still. How they’re going to get out without his dad noticing, he’s not sure. But it doesn’t matter to him right now. The girl he’s been in love with is leaning against his body. Who cares if his dad is feeling a little under the weather? He’ll get over it.

Y/N wriggles under his arms. She turns her head a bit to meet his eyes then tilts her head a bit to point to his father. He hasn’t noticed, but his dad is observing his unsuccessful machines. What Y/N is trying to tell Taehyung is that he is pre-occupied.

Quietly, they jog to the door, careful to not make a sound. Y/N is about to turn the knob when a voice stops them.

“Do you kids really think you could sneak away from an old man like me?”

Taehyung gulps as he feels his heart pound even faster than before. His dad is right. There’s no keeping secrets from this guy.

“Are you Taehyung’s girlfriend? Finally?” the scientist asks with an eyebrow raised.

Y/N immediately replies, “No, sir, no. I’m just a friend. I came over to tutor him in math since he’s struggling.”

“Alright, then is going into my lab a part of your lecture?” he asks.

She answers, “No sir. It was my idea. I was curious and convinced Taehyung to bring me here.”

Taehyung’s dad shifts his gaze to his son. “Well? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

The young boy’s lips suddenly become dry. The fact that he had messed up and got the both of them caught is clouding his thoughts and blocking his throat, keeping him from saying anything. No one can hide anything from his father. That’s why he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“How many?” his dad asks.

Taehyung looks up. “What?”

“How many years did you go back?”

He can’t breathe. The world is spinning at the speed of his heart as he watching the scene unfold before his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to get caught. He was supposed to have Y/N’s heart and be with her like he planned, like he always wanted. There has to be a way to change this situation, like… a reset.

He jolts to the shelf at the back and pulls the Time Resetter, flipping the ON switch. He hasn’t a single clue on how to operate the device, but he doesn’t have much of a choice left. A small screen appears, showing too many options, but he doesn’t have enough time.

His dad rushes over and tries to take it out of his grasp, but he clings on to it desperately.

“Kim Taehyung, let go of the Time Resetter!” his father shouts, but the boy only hugs it tighter.

Everything is happening so fast, Y/N is frozen, trying to keep up. She watches her friend and his father grapple for the device. There has to be something she can do.

That’s when everything is starting to come together. Taehyung acting weird in class as he ran for the seat next to hers, his enthusiasm when she was assigned to be his tutor, him smiling when she realized she fell asleep on his shoulder and lastly, the watch. She knew it looked familiar when she saw the blueprint.

She walks over to the table where she found it and examines it more. Her theory is right. The watch on the blueprint is the same one around Taehyung’s wrist. She almost wants to laugh. The guy actually went back in time to go out with her. How stupid could he get?

She heads to the boys and stands next to her friend. God, he messed up so bad. “Taehyung,” she says, in a soft voice.

He stops and looks at her, his eyes shining with tears. Taking the opportunity, his dad takes the resetter from his grasp and walks across the room. But Taehyung doesn’t care about that anymore, not when he knows what’s about to happen.

“You don’t understand,” he tells her.

“I do,” she says.

That’s enough for him to break down crying. She pulls him into a hug before he can fall on the floor. He clings on to her body as if fearing she’ll disappear. The sad thing is that his fear is about to come true.

“Why would you do this? Why would you do something as stupid as this?” she asks him, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

“I love you!” he cries. “That’s why! Is that so wrong?” He turns to his dad. “Is it?”

Y/N turns his head to face her. “How many years did you go back?” He only shakes his head, but she needs answers. “How many?”

Taehyung drops his head and mutters, “Ten.”

She pulls away and steps back.

“Y/N-“

“Ten years. You went ten fucking years back in time for what? Me? You had a life! You had a future! And you were willing to throw all that away?” she screams, enraged.

Taehyung steps closer to her. “I did it for you.”

“Did you think if I’d even want that? Did you think I wouldn’t find out any sooner? Dammit, Tae, you’re so dense!” she says.

Taehyung’s head falls, droplets of his tears making small puddles on the floor. Y/N releases a sigh and places both hands on her hips. There is only one thing left to do. She turns to Mr. Kim and he looks back at her. Without a word, he flips a coupe switches and presses a few buttons before walking back and handing the device to her. When Taehyung sees this, he stumbles back, hitting a table and books and blueprints and other scraps topple to the floor.

“No!” he sobs. “No, no, no!”

Y/N makes her way toward him and tries to give him the machine but he only shakes his head.

“Please, don’t do this,” he says, looking at the Time Resetter as if it were poison.

She wipes a tear before he can see it. “You have to. What you did was wrong.”

“What am I supposed to do then? When I come back?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “That’s for you to decide. But I hope you make the most of your time there and live well. Love like the way you should. Not like this.”

There is silence after she says this. Taehyung continues to stare at the machine, and she may be imagining it, but Y/N swears she saw something flicker in his eyes, like he’s considering it.

She’s about to tell him to take it when he looks up and meets his eyes with hers. “I just have to ask you one thing before I go,” he says.

There’s a sudden whirl in her stomach but she tries to ignore it. “What is it?

“In the days of me being here, the days of us together. Did you, even just a little bit, have any feelings for me?” he asks.

She blinks and steps back before she can stop herself. Taehyung notices her sudden change in position and stands up straighter, refusing to take his eyes off of hers.

“No,” she says, failing to keep her voice steady. In attempt to hide her emotions, she places the device on the nearest table and turns around. “Take it already. I have to get home.”

Taehyung steps forward and takes her hand, spinning her around. “Then tell me why you’re crying.”

She pushes him back. “Just take the Time Resetter, Tae. Take it and erase this. Live your life like you should have, and I’ll live mine.”

Knowing he is out of chances, he finally does as he’s told and takes the machine with shaky hands. He releases a sigh and wipes the remaining tears that roll down his cheeks. He looks down at it, then to his father and then to her. He can feel everything inside of him break.

“No takebacks,” she tells him.

Before he can regret it, he smashes the red button and everything goes black.

-

Taehyung wakes up on a chair in his dad’s lab. The bright lights on every corner of the room blur his vision. Everything is the same as before except the blue walls are full of holograms of information. The blueprints that once cluttered the tables are now what shows on the thin touch screens, accessible by a single swipe.

He looks at his wrist, the Time Manipulator resting on it. He lets out a sob.  Everything hurts. With tears welling his eyes he pulls it off, the device humming beneath his fingers. He places it back on the table where he took it from.

Every day, every hour, every minute and every second he spent ten years ago—it’s so hard for him to even fathom it—never existed. But in a way, it did. He knows this because he remembers every detail of it, even if he doesn’t want to. It feels like the Time Resetter’s punishment; forced to remember every drop of pain from his mistake.

He stands up and slowly walks to the shelf at the back of the room. Ten years into the future, even with all the new technological advancements, his father never changed the dusty sheet. He pulls it down and sees the Resetter. He takes it.

A couple tears fall on it and he doesn’t bother to wipe them off. He places it back on the shelf and looks at the watch on the table. It glows in the light as if mocking him.

His body moves for him. He strides toward it and puts his hand on it, and then he stops. He pulls himself back, resisting every urge to take it, and falls on the floor against a wall.

He screams and cries.

“No takebacks.”

[thememorycheats]

Robert Frost, 1874-1963, is rightly regarded as one of the great poets of the 20th century. There are so many excellent poems in his collection, both famous and under-regarded. I will examine five of these: 'Nothing Gold Can Stay', 'In Hardwood Groves', 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening', 'The Road Not Taken' and 'Fire and Ice'. Many common threads connect these poems: firstly the general technical skill, the precise rhythm and gentle rhyme; then a common perspective on the world, Frost's curious mix of pessimism and contentment where the future is somewhere between complicated and apocalyptic but the present is not yet condemned.

What makes his poetry worth examining is that they are very good, and pleasant to read. The most loosely after all structured is 'In Hardwood Groves', which is only made of three stanzas each containing one line with 8 syllables, two with 9 and one with 10 in an ABCB rhyme scheme. But it is not merely the technical ability to stick to a strict rhyme and meter, but also the knowledge of when to break it for maximum effect that makes his work memorable. 'Nothing Gold Can Stay', for example, is written in iambic trimeter —e.g. "Nature's first green is gold"— until the final, title line, which has only five syllables. This difference makes the line more memorable. The last line sticks in the mind longer. 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' uses an AABA rhyme scheme where the B of each stanza is the A of the next. This gives the impression that the structure of the poem is reaching forwards to the future, and ties it all together, and means that when the final stanza is AAAA it feels closed off and ominous. 'The Road Not Taken' breaks traditional rules of punctuation with its two and a half stanza, twelve line opening sentence. The prolonged enjambment gives the poem a stream-of-consciousness feel despite the iambic pentameter and ABAAB rhyme, drawing the reader into the narrator’s decision-making process. It creates a powerfully introspective tone in the poem. Frost’s poetry contains not just a knowledge of the conventions of poetry but also the ability to use and break them when necessary. His work is not rule-bound despite its use formal structure, but rather both neat and alive, so that minor variations in form alter the tone of the text more significantly than would occur in less structured works.

Frost’s works tend to treat the future as a source of anxiety. 'In Hardwood Groves' is the most optimistic of the poems considered, with death required before the fallen leaves can “fill the trees with another shade”, but even here there is a sense that he wishes the world were not as it is: “in some other world” it might be different, but here “in ours” the journey back to life is long and filled with death. 'Nothing Gold Can Stay' is fundamentally about how the future is inevitably worse than the past, as the best ('gold') things will always disappear in the end. The line "So Eden sank to grief" extends this, alluding to the fallen Biblical paradise of a primordial past, thus extending the trajectory beyond the transitory into the inevitable. In 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' the future is "miles" long and full of "promises to keep". The dark, cold woods—in the depths of winter, the season when nothing grows, when simply being outside can kill—stand for the darkness of an unnatural death, and they cannot be seen from the village more than any human can look beyond the grave. When the narrator calls them "lovely, dark and deep" as a whole shows the narrator flirting with the idea of dying rather than endure the world. 'The Road Not Taken' casts the future as fixed: that whatever path we take, we will end up wishing things had been different. There is a fundamental cynicism about human nature here: that even when our choices are each "as just as fair" as the other we will still end up thinking of that decision "with a sigh" in times to come. 'Fire and Ice' of course is about the end of the word—not as something that might happen, but rather that “the world will end” in ice or fire. Everything will end, eventually. The future is not merely dark but outright apocalyptic. In each case, the future is far from an unalloyed utopia. Instead it is full of death, regret, and hardship.

It is easy to look at Frost's biography and decide that this pessimism derives straightforwardly from his long struggle with depression, from the continual death and privation that marked his early years. But Frost lived to be 88, with a full life to the end, including a significant role in the election of Kennedy as the president of the United State. To reduce his life to the difficulties is to ignore the material reality of his history, and to ignore the nuances of his work too. For while there is great negativity about the future in his work, the present is not such a source of anxiety.

'In Hardwood Groves' offers a clue at why. The fallen leaves "must go down into the dark decayed", but also will be "put beneath the feet of dancing flowers", a much more positive image. There are two concurrent possible perspectives on 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening': that his stop by the woods represents suicidal ideation, or that the speaker merely rests from his busy life in a peaceful forest. In the latter interpretation, we can see that even in a difficult world there are chances to rest, rejuvenate before carrying on in a world that still contains some beauty. Dawn is linked to such beauty in 'Nothing Gold Can Stay', which appears each morning, as are the first leaves that grow every spring. Indeed, the ‘unfallen’ state of leaves is called flowers: hardly rare phenomena. And of course flowers and woods and leafy shade are all emanations of nature. The woods themselves in 'The Road Not Taken' are perfectly pleasant: grassy, brightly coloured and unspoiled – not “trodden black”. This is the link among these, that if there is hope in this world it comes not from the works of humanity, but from nature.

Overall Frost’s poetry tells us that while the future is almost certainly going to suck, there is hope for the good and the wonderful to be found, mostly in simple events like a flower, a walk in the woods, and the break of dawn. In our present, there are still sunrises and forests and flowers. Even if Anadarko seems likely to start drilling our seas for oil and no one is doing much of anything against climate change, there are still beautiful things worth protecting, and nature is worth protecting, and we still have snow, at least for now.

[linhgd9]

Global Document Scanning Pen Market Research Report Covers, Future Trends, Past, Present Data and Deep Analysis 2020-2026

“A SWOT Analysis of Document Scanning Pen, Professional Survey Report Including Top Most Global Players Analysis with CAGR and Stock Market Up and Down.”

The global “Document Scanning Pen Market” report offers a planned observation of analyzed data associated to Document Scanning Pen market. The Document Scanning Pen market report offers multiple opportunities to various industries, vendors, associations, and organizations offering items and administrations Brother, FUJITSU, Doxie, TaoTronics, Hanvon, Neat, PenPower, SVP, IRISPen, HSN, HP by providing a huge platform for their overall expansion by competing among themselves and supplying reliable services to the consumers.

Impact Of COVID-19

The most recent report includes extensive coverage of the significant impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on the Heated Jacket division. The coronavirus epidemic is having an enormous impact on the global economic landscape and thus on this special line of business. Therefore, the report offers the reader a clear concept of the current scenario of this line of business and estimates the aftermath of COVID-19.

Apply here for the free sample copy of the report @: https://www.marketresearchstore.com/sample/document-scanning-pen-market-822606

The report conveys delivers thorough information regarding the market’s major competitors as well as currently emerging organizations that hold considerable shareholdings in the market on the basis of sales, revenue, demand, superior products manufacturers, and satisfactory services providers.

On the basis of demand and methodologies currently used by the market holders, the global Document Scanning Pen Market report delivers in-depth and thoroughly analyzed forecast concerning the growth rate pattern of the market in the several coming years. Furthermore, The report presents a detailed segmentation USB Connection, WIFI Connection, Bluetooth Connectivity, Market Trend by Application Mobile Office of the global market based on technology, product type, application, and various processes and systems. The market report delivers detailed information about the alterations in the types of product, its innovation and advancements that may be caused as a result of a minor deviation in the profile of the item.

Read Detailed Index of full Research Study at:: https://www.marketresearchstore.com/market-insights/document-scanning-pen-market-822606

The analysis of quality and efficiency of the global Document Scanning Pen market are based on the quantitative and subjective methods to obtain a crystal-clear perception of the present and expected growth patterns. The report also includes the bifurcation of the market based on geological areas.

The global Document Scanning Pen market report brings comprehensive data about key factors escalating or slowing down the growth of the business. The report incorporates altering competitive dynamics study. The report provides precise knowledge that helps in opting correct business choices. The global market report systematically represents the information as flowcharts, facts, statistical graphs, diagrams, figures, and assurance which display the status of the particular trade at the global and regional platform.

The additional geographical segments are also mentioned in the empirical report.

North America: U.S., Canada, Rest of North America Europe: UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Rest of Europe Asia Pacific: China, Japan, India, Southeast Asia, North Korea, South Korea, Rest of Asia Pacific Latin America: Brazil, Argentina, Rest of Latin America Middle East and Africa: GCC Countries, South Africa, Rest of Middle East & Africa

There are 15 Chapters to display the Global Document Scanning Pen market

Chapter 1, Definition, Specifications and Classification of Document Scanning Pen, Applications of Document Scanning Pen, Market Segment by Regions; Chapter 2, Manufacturing Cost Structure, Raw Material and Suppliers, Manufacturing Process, Industry Chain Structure; Chapter 3, Technical Data and Manufacturing Plants Analysis of Document Scanning Pen, Capacity and Commercial Production Date, Manufacturing Plants Distribution, R&D Status and Technology Source, Raw Materials Sources Analysis; Chapter 4, Overall Market Analysis, Capacity Analysis (Company Segment), Sales Analysis (Company Segment), Sales Price Analysis (Company Segment); Chapter 5 and 6, Regional Market Analysis that includes United States, China, Europe, Japan, Korea & Taiwan, Document Scanning Pen Segment Market Analysis (by Type); Chapter 7 and 8, The Document Scanning Pen Segment Market Analysis (by Application) Major Manufacturers Analysis of Document Scanning Pen ; Chapter 9, Market Trend Analysis, Regional Market Trend, Market Trend by Product Type USB Connection, WIFI Connection, Bluetooth Connectivity, Market Trend by Application Mobile Office; Chapter 10, Regional Marketing Type Analysis, International Trade Type Analysis, Supply Chain Analysis; Chapter 11, The Consumers Analysis of Global Document Scanning Pen ; Chapter 12, Document Scanning Pen Research Findings and Conclusion, Appendix, methodology and data source; Chapter 13, 14 and 15, Document Scanning Pen sales channel, distributors, traders, dealers, Research Findings and Conclusion, appendix and data source.

Enquire Here Get customization & check discount for report @: https://www.marketresearchstore.com/inquiry/document-scanning-pen-market-822606

Reasons for Buying Document Scanning Pen market

This report provides pin-point analysis for changing competitive dynamics

It provides a forward looking perspective on different factors driving or restraining market growth

It provides a six-year forecast assessed on the basis of how the market is predicted to grow

It helps in understanding the key product segments and their future

It provides pin point analysis of changing competition dynamics and keeps you ahead of competitors

It helps in making informed business decisions by having complete insights of market and by making in-depth analysis of market segments

Thanks for reading this article; you can also get individual chapter wise section or region wise report version like North America, Europe or Asia.

About Market Research Store

At Market Research Store, we provide reports about a range of industries such as healthcare & pharma, automotive, IT, insurance, security, packaging, electronics & semiconductors, medical devices, food & beverage, software & services, manufacturing & construction, defense aerospace, agriculture, consumer goods & retailing, and so on. Every aspect of the market is covered in the report along with its regional data. Market Research Store committed to the requirements of our clients, offering tailored solutions best suitable for strategy development and execution to get substantial results. Above this, we will be available for our clients 24×7.

Ask Queries/Buy Report Directly by Contacting Us @ sales@marketresearchstore.com

Contact US:

Market Research Store 3422 SW 15 Street,Suit #8138, Deerfield Beach,Florida 33442, USA Tel: +1-386-310-3803GMT Tel: +49-322 210 92714 Website: https://www.marketresearchstore.com

  from NeighborWebSJ https://ift.tt/3e48TpG via IFTTT

from WordPress https://ift.tt/3xyQZmC via IFTTT

[ephemerational]

Pillow Grave (VIII)

The ground is still a long ways off, hidden away beyond the impenetrable darkness. 

If there even is one. 

I suspect that there is. 

Supposing that I'm correct, it's a little bit closer now. 

I must have fallen from somewhere, a cliff or building or other structure, which has to stand on something, so there necessarily has to be a ground. 

But I don't remember. 

I can't always have fallen. 

If I did, could it really be called falling, technically?

Doesn't feel right. 

A little closer yet. 

I look up into the void, or down, I can't tell, and through the clouds of now vaguely materializing forms, the letter "L" looks back at me. 

Less than an inch away from my retina. Some more letters dig themselves into my cheekbones, creating a sharp pain all over the right half of my face. 

I lift my head off the keyboard. 

Not yet sufficiently sober, my body sways from side to side, forcing my center of mass beyond the chair's edge. 

Figures. 

I haven't stopped falling. 

Thud. 

Face to carpet, back to darkness.

I awaken to the high-pitched voice of my younger brother and a light tap on the shoulder.

“Hey, I thought you were gonna show me the around the school today.”

The young boy in front of me is beaming from cheek to cheek.

“Yeah, definitely, I was just… waiting here for you.”

“I dunno Vi, it kind of looked like you were sleeping.”

“Sleeping? In class?”

I smile widely and blow out some air through my nose in hopes of making the act more convincing. “How dare you accuse your brother of such delinquency?”

“If you say so. We did homeroom-introductions with miss Wagner today, everyone seems really nice!”

“Wagner? You lucked out then, her classes are pretty low-effort. You didn’t talk to anyone, did you?”

“Of course I talked to them, duh. They’re my new classmates, and I told you they’re nice.”

“Any word you speak to those vultures is ammunition against you. Just wait until they find their first target and you’ll see. I’ve done school for a bit now and the best way of being ignored is ignoring them. They’re boring as shit anyways.”

Was I still being sincere when I said that? Was I sincere at any point? When did it all get so twisted, so dark and callous? Why did I feel like I had to experiment with him? Why did I poke everything until it broke?

“I am no longer him!”

“No longer who?” 

Lloyd responds in the muffled, barely understandable tone of a man mumbling into his pillow.

“Don’t even worry about it… I need to take a shower”

“Woah, what kind of epiphany has led to taking action as drastic as basic hygiene?

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Even as warm water beats against my face and layers upon layers of filth and dead skin are stripped from my body, the thoughts won’t go away. I can’t live like this. I need absolution. Just some, just a little bit, not actually from the good one himself though. That’s worthless, he’ll forgive anyone. He already forgave me for fuck’s sake. How much could that possibly mean. I open my mouth and take in the jet of disgusting, metal-tasting water, in hopes that it will drown me before I can bring this particular train of thought to conclusion. My half assed attempt at suicide proves unsuccessful. There has to be a place for this kind of forgiveness. Fuck talking to some religious dipshit, but sad, directionless teenagers playing psychoanalyst for each other, so they don’t have to deal with the reality of their own misery for a bit? Now that’s something I can get behind. And forums like that ought to exist everywhere.

A few google searches and DMs to angsty teenagers in Lo’s comments lead me to just the place I was looking for: “The darkness glows”. A wall of absurdly pretentious confessionals, ten times the wordcount they would require, were the people responsible even remotely as interested in conveying their actual issues as they are in convincing readers of their depth, stretches down farther than any reasonable human would ever dare to scroll.

The site was apparently created by a lifestyle blogger named Veronica Heine, who became somewhat famous amongst the goth-adjacent two years ago after unexpectedly killing herself and leaving multiple novels worth of purple-prose as her suicide note. Further digging into her uncovered this site, which she assumably set up in order to help herself, but which didn’t gain any traction until the connection to the now dead pseudo-e-celeb had been was revealed. That is to say: quite a bit too late. The girl however succeeded in becoming a messianic figure for depressed assholes who think that she somehow sacrificed herself to bring them this site and therefore save their lives, miraculously unaware of the existence of suicide hotlines.

I guess I shouldn’t be too cynical of the whole matter, seeing how this is exactly what I needed.

Thanks Veronica.

For a moment I consider contemplating how incredibly macabre and creepy that thought was but decide against it.

Instead I start reading a post.

“There is no out. There can’t be. The thing we want to escape from once simplified to its most basic, nuanceless core is reality itself, or rather the human experience that is the lens through which we conceptualize it. How could there possibly be anything outside that except death? Anything that seems like an out is just another in, a pathway to another corner of the same shitty old building where the only way to escape is jumping out the 21st floor window. It still sucks, wherever your path leads, but at least it sucks in a way that’s new, refreshing almost for a while. It puts past shit into perspective despite not being an exit and becomes the new, interesting shit, which might just be enough? As long as one keeps taking the “out”s that aren’t really and continuously turns the old shit into the new shit, the grind stays interesting enough to be worth it, maybe. Maybe that’s the point of it all.”

“If you’re still looking for the point, you have already missed it, because there is none and that is the point.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that there is one? Isn’t that just a “the path is the goal”-type twisting of words, that denies the initial discernibility of a thing’s nature, but not the verisimilitude of its existence. That’s even kind of the thing I described above.”

“It would be, if I, like you apparently do, operated on the assumption that “points” or any comprehensibility-serving abstraction of physical reality is an inherent property of it, rather than a foundationless attribution made by flawed human minds.”

“In that case you’re just being needlessly obtuse by referring once to the point of existence and once to your point about existence with the same word in the same sentence.

Being hard to understand doesn’t make you profound, you know?”

“Well what’s profound?”

“Anything that makes people go “oh, I get it, the world’s like THAT” in the form of a very neat, memetic sentiment. No more than a paragraph. The kind of shit middle aged women go nuts for.

didn’t miss that you changed the topic btw.”

The commenter didn’t respond to this.

What IS profound? THAT, yes, sure, but also more, right? There has to be more. It’s not satisfying like this. There has to be a more profound explanation of profundity. Did THEY, the commenter,  find it satisfactory, of did they just not reply because their ego had been bruised?

I come to the realization that that becoming cognizant, not knowing, but actually becoming cognizant of the fact that other people do exist and have thoughts is genuinely the worst feeling imaginable.

I take a large gulp of rum straight from the bottle and the burning sensation in my throat distracts me from the terrifying thought that some guy on the internet had maybe been given a glimpse at the true nature of things that simply doesn’t do it for me.

Why did I go here?

Where did the rum come from for that matter? Sometimes it seems like alcohol just appears around me. Wait, right. This was about Lo. It’s hard not to feel pathetic in this situation, despite the overwhelming work I put into cleansing myself from such feelings forever. The space girl would surely have a blast observing and commenting upon my fucked-up coping mechanisms, but then again, there are few pathological behaviors with which she doesn’t have a field day, this tendency of hers very much included.