#page 2297

[pesterloglog]

Karkat Vantas, Vriska Serket

Act 5, page 2296-2297

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling arachnidsGrip [AG]

CG: OK THIS IS GOING TO SOUND PREPOSTEROUS GIVEN OUR LAST CONVERSATION.

CG: AND I GUESS PRACTICALLY EVERY CONVERSATION PRECEDING IT.

CG: AND I'M PROBABLY GOING TO HAVE TO DO SOMETHING COMPLETELY DISGUSTING LIKE APOLOGIZE.

CG: AND EVEN THOUGH I'LL HATE MYSELF FOR IT I WILL TOTALLY MEAN IT, I PROMISE.

CG: LIKE, REALLY REALLY MEAN IT.

AG: You're going to ask me to join your team, aren't you.

CG: YEAH.

CG: HOW DID YOU KNOW.

AG: I don't seem to have much choice now! Aradia kicked me off the good team.

CG: HAHAHAHA WOW THAT IS GREAT.

CG: WAIT, SORRY.

CG: NO WAIT, I DON'T HAVE TO APOLOGIZE, THAT'S RIGHT. YOU HAVE NO CHOICE NOW.

CG: I APOLOGIZE TO MYSELF FOR OFFERING YOU A SHITTY MEANINGLESS APOLOGY.

CG: APOLOGY ACCEPTED, KARKAT. LET'S BURY THE THRESHER WITH A TOTALLY PLATONIC BRO BULGE BUMP.

CG: BUMP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

AG: You dork.

AG: Do you really think your usual pedantic quips are going to 8ug me now????????

CG: I'M NOT TRYING TO BUG YOU I'M TRYING TO GET YOU TO JOIN MY DAMN TEAM, NOW STEP IN LINE SERKET.

AG: I was just 8etrayed and a8andonded 8y my two accomplices and 8est pals, and on top of that I am soaked in the 8lood of my lusus which I just had to decapit8 myself.

AG: So listening to a cra88y asshole 8e all tickled with his own mediocre retorts isn't going to spoil my evening!

CG: OK, WELL, SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT THAT.

CG: BUT I MEAN YOU CAN JUST DUMP HER CARCASS IN THE KERNEL AND BRING HER BACK STRONGER THAN EVER.

AG: Wow.

AG: Uh, good to know.

AG: I guess. ::::\

CG: NOW WHY DON'T YOU HOP IN THE TRAP, WASH THAT NASTY BLUE SHIT OFF, AND JOIN OUR FUCKING SESSION ALREADY.

AG: What! It's so rude to dict8 hygiene procedure to a lady. Under any circumstance! Even for douchey loudmouths with delusions of leadership.

AG: May8e you should try to think a8out the dum8 things that fall out of your protein chute for once, Vantas.

CG: BLAH BLAH BLAH.

CG: NOW MY CHUTE IS DOING A FUCKING STELLAR IMPRESSION OF SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT.

AG: Anyway, you know my 8lood's the prettiest and you'd o8viously kill to have it.

CG: NO IT SUCKS.

CG: TOTALLY HAPPY WITH MINE, NICE TRY THOUGH.

AG: 8S!

AG: Why would you hide 8ehind your lame gray anonymity then?

AG: You do realize everyone thinks that's totally lame, right????????

CG: IT'S NOBODY'S BUSINESS.

CG: I DON'T SEE WHY IT SHOULD BE A MATTER OF PUBLIC RECORD.

CG: I'M NOT GOING TO WEAR THAT SHIT ON MY SLEEVE LIKE YOU DO.

CG: LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY.

CG: IT'S PRIVATE, SO EVERYONE CAN GO POINT THEIR PROBING BUSYBODY SNIFFNODES UP THEIR OWN IMPERTINENT SEED FLAPS.

AG: Fine. Like anyone really cares! It's just lame and insecure.

AG: So why don't you tell me what I've got to do here???????? I await instruction from my 8igshot a8looded leader.

CG: OK FIRST THING'S FIRST.

CG: YOU'VE GOT TO CONNECT WITH TAVROS QUICKLY AND GET HIM IN THE SESSION BEFORE HE GETS KILLED.

AG: Uggggggggh.

CG: WHAT.

AG: Can't someone else do that?

CG: NO. WHY.

AG: XXXXO

CG: WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL, JUST DO IT.

AG: 8ut I h8 that guy!

CG: WHO CARES.

AG: This is your command decision? Getting someone who h8s a guy to save his life? Pretty weak, 8oss!

CG: WHY DO YOU EVEN HATE HIM, IT'S FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

CG: IF ANYTHING YOU SHOULD PITY HIM.

CG: ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WERE THE ONE WHO PARALYZED HIM.

AG: I know. I don't really understand it.

AG: It's just a really special kind of h8! It never goes away and it doesn't make a lot of sense.

CG: THIS IS KIND OF A WEIRD TIME TO BE CONFIDING IN ME ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS OF BLACK ROMANCE BUT OK.

AG: Oh god, what?

CG: I MEAN IF YOU'RE REALLY IMPLYING TAVROS IS YOUR KISMESIS I THINK YOU'RE BRAYING UP THE WRONG FROND NUB.

CG: BOTH PARTIES HAVE TO HATE EACH OTHER EQUALLY, I MEAN LIKE TRUE HATE.

CG: MAYBE YOUR FEELINGS COME SOMEWHAT CLOSE TO FITTING THE BILL BUT I DON'T THINK HE CAN HATE ANYONE, IT'S WEIRD, HE'S KIND OF BROKEN IN THE HEAD.

AG: Fuuuuuuuuck, WHAT are you talking a8out?

CG: I THINK THIS SUBJECT IS BEYOND A LOT OF PEOPLE'S GRASP BUT I KNOW A LOT ABOUT IT, NOBODY EVER REALLY WANTS TO TALK TO ME ABOUT IT THOUGH.

AG: Whoa really? Oh no shit, REALLY????????

CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY.

CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE.

CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

AG: Karkat, holy fuck.

AG: So.

AG: 8oring.

CG: A WELL BALANCED PERSON IS IS GOING TO HAVE A GOOD DISTRIBUTION BETWEEN HATE AND THE VARIOUS PITY HUMORS.

CG: HAVING A GOOD BALANCE KEEPS ALL THE EMOTIONS SHARPER, SEE I THINK THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

AG: Oh????????

AG: I hope you know I already wore out some good note-taking pens today. All the pens.

AG: All of them.

CG: SEE, MY HATE IS LIKE A FINELY TUNED INSTRUMENT BECAUSE I'M AWARE OF THESE PRINCIPLES.

CG: I COULD HATE A HOLE IN PARADOX SPACE ITSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH TO A NEW REALITY FRESH FOR THE HATING.

AG: Hahahahahahahaha, you don't even know how much I'm laughing at this.

CG: BUT SEE, YOU'RE TOO HEAVY ON THE HATE SIDE, OR AT LEAST YOU PRETEND TO BE WHICH IS MAYBE WORSE.

AG: You aren't reading anything I say are you? You just want to talk and talk and talk.

CG: AND YOU THINK YOU'RE HATING UP EVERYONE HARD WHEN YOU'RE REALLY JUST BURNING OUT THAT ENTIRE EMOTIONAL HEMISPHERE.

CG: IT'S LIKE LUKEWARM HATE. PRETENDER'S HATE, WITH NO COUNTERPOINT AT ALL.

CG: AS SUCH THERE'S NO REAL SUBSTANCE TO YOUR HATE, IT'S LIKE A CARDBOARD MOVIE PROP.

CG: WHICH IS WHY YOUR BRAIN IS BROKEN, KIND OF LIKE TAVROS'S BUT ON THE OPPOSITE HEMISPHERE I GUESS.

CG: OR MAYBE YOUR BROKEN BRAIN LED TO THE IMBALANCE IN THE FIRST PLACE, I DON'T KNOW.

CG: WHATEVER THE CASE IS, YOU'RE KIND OF EMOTIONALLY SCREWED, SORRY TO SAY.

CG: YOUR HATE'S TOO DULL FOR A PROPER KISMESIS, IN MY OPINION.

CG: AND I DON'T SEE ANYONE CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO BE YOUR MOIRAIL HONESTLY, UNLESS THERE'S SOMEONE OUT THERE WHO WOULD ACTUALLY BOTHER PITYING YOU.

CG: AND LANDING A MATESPRIT? HAHAHAHA!

CG: SERIOUSLY, LIKE THAT WOULD EVEN INTEREST YOU.

CG: BASICALLY ANY FEATURE OF YOUR EMOTIONAL PROFILE THAT USUALLY MAKES SOMEONE VIABLE IN THE REDROM DEPARTMENT MUST BE TOTALLY FRIED.

CG: YOUR BLACKROM POTENTIAL'S PROBABLY TOAST TOO.

CG: HEY.

CG: ARE YOU THERE.

AG: Oh, yeah.

AG: I started tuning you out.

AG: Are you done?

CG: NO WAY, I COULD GO ON.

CG: THIS IS FASCINATING, TELL ME HOW THE FUCK THIS ISN'T FASCINATING.

AG: Did you learn this crap from your awful romance movies?

CG: THEY'RE REALLY INTRIGUING SOCIOLOGICALLY.

CG: INCREDIBLY COMPLEX, SOPHISTICATED STORIES, YOU WOULDN'T GET IT.

AG: Hey asshole, stop watching movies for girls.

CG: WHAT PART OF INTRIGUING SOCIOLOGICALLY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND.

CG: ALSO THEY'RE AWESOME, SHUT UP.

AG: Argh, ok! Man! Just let me connect to stupid 8oy-Dum8fuck so I don't have to listen to this anymore!

CG: YEAH OK.

CG: OH, WAIT!

CG: I NEVER EVEN GOT TO THE DAMN POINT.

AG: What is it now!

CG: I DIDN'T NEED YOU SPECIFICALLY TO CONNECT TO TAVROS, I MEAN I COULD GET ANY SCHLUB TO DO THAT.

CG: YOU JUST HAVE TO GET IN HERE ASAP BECAUSE I REALLY NEED YOUR MIND POWERS.

AG: You do????????

AG: I mean.

AG: O8viously you do. Duh.

AG: What for?

CG: I RAN INTO SOMEONE HERE.

CG: A SORT OF DOUBLE AGENT I GUESS.

CG: HIS NAME IS JACK.

CG: HE HAS SOME INSIDE INFORMATION ABOUT HIS KINGDOM.

CG: HE WANTS TO WORK TOGETHER WITH US TO OVERTHROW THE BLACK QUEEN.

CG: SO I SAID OK.

CG: AND NOW I NEED YOUR HELP.

AG: Um, ok.

AG: I can try.

AG: What does he know?

CG: HE RECENTLY GOT HOLD OF SOME INTEL REGARDING A WEAKNESS IN THE QUEEN'S DEFENSES.

CG: I DON'T KNOW ANY MORE THAN THAT.

CG: BUT WE'VE GOT TO HURRY AND GET STARTED ON THIS THING, OR IT COULD GET KIND OF AWKWARD.

AG: Awkward? What do you mean?

CG: I MEAN HE'S JUST STANDING HERE NOW.

CG: WAITING FOR ME I GUESS.

CG: BUT IT'S OK, I THINK HE'S PRETTY MUCH SETTLED DOWN.

AG: Settled down?

CG: WELL, HE STABBED ME ONCE.

AG: Oh, only once!

AG: Are you sure you should trust him? I don't know if I would, 8ut hey I'm not the leader.

CG: NO, NO, IT'S COOL.

CG: HE'S COOL, IT'S FINE I DON'T REALLY MIND THE STABBING, IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING.

CG: WELL OK I'M PRETTY SURE HE MEANT TO STAB ME.

CG: BUT I KIND OF THINK THAT'S LIKE

CG: THE WAY HE GREETS PEOPLE?

AG: This game is so stupid.

CG: IN ANY CASE I THINK HE'S PROBABLY ALL STABBED OUT.

AG: Whew!!!!!!!!

AG: Oh, man.

AG: Since you're 8leeding I should ask Terezi what color your 8lood is.

CG: GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.

CG: SHE CAN'T SEE ME OR SMELL ME OR ANYTHING, I'M WAY OUT OF MY HIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE ON THE PLANET.

AG: Ok, then I'll ask Jack.

CG: NO, JACK WON'T TELL, I MADE HIM PROMISE HE WOULDN'T TELL.

AG: Dammit! Stupid lousy tightlipped sta8happy dou8le agents.

AG: Doesn't Trollian have some kind of viewport feature?

CG: YEAH BUT I'M PRETTY SURE ONLY SOLLUX KNOWS HOW TO SET THAT UP, AND HE'S BEEN INCOMMUNICADO FOR HOURS FOR SOME REASON.

CG: ANYWAY THAT WHOLE FEATURE SEEMS TOTALLY INVASIVE AND LARGELY POINTLESS TO ME, SO JUST FORGET IT.

AG: Yeah ok, here we are a8out to em8ark on an espionage mission. A spying tool sounds totally useless!

AG: Another gr8 point, captain.

CG: WHATEVER.

CG: JUST GET YOUR ASS IN HERE SO WE CAN DETHRONE THIS GODDAMN QUEEN.

CG: IT'LL MEAN ONE LESS GOD BOSS WE HAVE TO FIGHT.

AG: Fine, I'll be right there.

AG: Just try not to lose too much of your mystery blood and die.

arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

original inspo | art | playlist | moodboard | headcanons

boba fett x f!reader

Rated E | 40k [complete]

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, canon-typical violence & death, age gap, smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), outdoor sex, hurt/comfort, strangers-to-lovers, sort of slow-burn

The year is 2297, and your days in Vault 113 are spent among the pages of your books - of fairytale romance, of noble knights and handsome princes. That is, until you venture from your Vault, and are immediately thrust into the harsh and cruel world of the Wasteland.

And when you find yourself being rescued by a man in armor - you can’t help but wonder if those beloved stories might just have come true.

i. the fear and the fire of the end of the world

ii. the stench of the sea and the absence of green

iii. the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on

iv. like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

v. you are unbreaking, though quaking

vi. like the bonfire that burns, that all words in the fight fell to**

vii. be known in it's aching, shown in the shaking**

viii. you’ll gaze unafraid, as they sob from the city roofs**

ix. i'm in love, i'm in love with you**

x. not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do**

series is now complete | reader is ‘new’ to the world so knowledge of the fallout universe is not necessary to enjoy! 💕

[nightswithkookmin]

As for Tae, I think when Jimin suffers and does something self-harmful, he will cry and say stop to his fan but it will be too late. I don't mean to be pessimistic. I hope God will protect Jimin, but he is human and he has endured enough

Jimin is stronger than he looks but yea we all have our breaking points. he's human after all and the constant pestering and negativity can take a toll on him.

And it's funny you mention this cos somewhere in my drafts there are several posts I've made talking about this very topic in regards to two POCs I know out here who keep going at it with eachother.

Some people don't know when to stop and will keep going and going till they've inflicted maximum damage on others. It's not cute.

There's constructive criticism and there's badgering and hammering down on people and that's equally as toxic and harmful as the supposed evils we seek to correct in people.

Many words won't fill a bushel. A word to a wise is enough. If your intention is to draw a person's attention to their mistakes, you don't go pestering them with it. And humans have brains and hearts for a reason, give them room to reflect on their actions and do the internal work they need to do and once that is done learn to forgive them and not hold their mistakes over their heads especially if they grow from it. But we all seem to have lost the plot.

Somehow in this community, it's always aha that person slipped that one time I'm gonna weaponize that and use that as ammunition to drive them out of this space so I'm the last one standing. It's nuts.

And it's true not everyone is like that in this space, there are a couple of bloggers out here who I don't fuck with yet they'd slip into my DMs every now and there to ask for clarification or let me know Hey you said this and that's quite problematic.

I just thank them and post clarifications here on my page. I respect those accounts you know. Cos you can tell they don't have ill intentions towards me.

Thus it's difficult for me to equally start tearing into them out of the blues on my platform- I'd rather send them a private message to talk- if I care enough about it but most of the time I don't care💀

What someone chooses to do with their platform is none of my business really unless they wanna @ me then let's go. I will stab you in the guts and bug spray your eyes. Don't play with me.

Tumblr staff are paid to moderate the platform and keep people in check. If an account violates their community guidelines then it's their problem not mine.

But that's just the problem isn't it? We see ourselves as a community and thus some have assigned themselves moderators of this community and have appointed themselves judge jury executioner passing judgements based on ambiguous virtues and arbitrary social rules- very high school of us in here.

Quick segue- that bitch going around people's blogs screaming I'm evil because I'm a "Ted Bundy stan" WHAT'S GOOD? It's the she was "exposed" and the "she lied" for me. Bitch if you don't shut up.

If I have to deny being a fan of something then am I really a fan of it at all?? Have you met me?

Like no, imagine that for a moment. Me. Scared to admit I like something because.... wait for it

Ita so deviant I'm afraid it will offend a bunch of strangers I've never met on the internet and they will not like me for it???

If I'm a Stan of Mr O'Brian Bundy WHO'S GONNA CHECK ME? YOU? ANON 2297 HIDING BEHIND AN ANNOYMOUS BLOG TO CRY LIKE A LITTLE BITCH ON PEOPLE'S BLOG POSTS?????

I THINK THE FUCK NOT.

I promise you YOU ARE NOT THE ONE WHO'S GONNA CHECK ME.

I'm a fan of True crime FOR SURE said that ones I'll say it again but Ted Bundy is not the hill I'm finna die on I'm sorry. He is the least interesting serial killer out there. Yawned my way through a stranger besides me- read it twice and yet I still hate the Author💀

Just because I hate the Author, again DON'T MAKE ME A FAN OF TED FREAKN BUNDY- that's just insulting. he's so bland. BORING

For the record, I AM obsessed with BTK and have since fell down the rabbit hole of serial killers who leave erotic poems behind for their victims.

SUE ME.

Oh here's one I think you'll love!!!!!!

It's called "Oh, Nancy Anna why didn't you appear"

T' was perfect plan of deviant pleasure so bold on that Spring nite.

My inner felling hot with propension of the new awakening season

Warn, wet with inner fear and rapture, my pleasure of entanglement,

like new vines at night

Crime literary analysts have described this quatrian as remarkable and have compared it to the works of writers such as James Joyce.

"The poem is in many ways remarkable because of the levels of meaning that BTK suggests in the words he uses. Reminiscent of James Joyce's epic, Finnegan's Wake, BTK uses words that suggest several meanings. Starting with the very first line in the poem, the T with the superscript 1 is used in scientific research to designate the beginning phase of a study. Subsequent phases would be T2, T3, etc. On another more ordinary level, the superscript 1 could be interpreted as an apostrophe to create "T'was" except that "T'was perfect plan" is missing a word, like "a" or "the." It appears as though whatever BTK had in store for Anna was something "bold" and new."

Oh no, she's a fan of serial killers let's cancel her

You do that Karen, I'm gonna be here and do me 💅🏾

People have their heads so far up their ass all they breathe is shit.

You place a lot of responsibility on Tae when you expect so much of him as a friend and colleague to JM. He's equally just an Idol and like JM he has his own crucible and haters and people out to get him.

I seem to recall him going on a love all seven campaign right before they announced their Solos. Let's give him credit. Cut him some slack.

We all disappointed with the way things unraveled these past few weeks. And some of us might never really move on but like I said life goes on.

Don't know why Tae went silent on us, but with time the reason shall come to light. Personally I'm not too happy with him for that. He broken my vmin heart. I won't ship them together for a while but yall feel free.

Okay who wants to hear about a serial killer who drew a picture of his penis on a victims night stand

[drmikewatts]

Evolving Systems, Volume 15, Issue 6, December 2024

1) An evaluation of CNN models and data augmentation techniques in hierarchical localization of mobile robots

Author(s): Juan José Cabrera, Orlando José Céspedes, Luis Payá

Pages: 1991 - 2003

2) A hybrid machine learning framework for intrusion detection system in smart cities

Author(s): Komal Singh Gill, Arwinder Dhillon

Pages: 2005 - 2019

3) A hybridization of multiple imputation and one-class bagging ensemble approach for missing value and class imbalance problem

Author(s): Pranita Baro, Malaya Dutta Borah

Pages: 2021 - 2066

4) Nonlinear dynamic engineering processes modeling using a lyapunov-stability based novel locally connected recurrent pi-sigma neural network: design, simulation, and a comparative study

Author(s): Rajesh Kumar, Smriti Srivastava, Amit Mohindru

Pages: 2067 - 2092

5) A wild horse-assisted decentralized control strategy for a PV-battery energy storage system in a DC microgrid

Author(s): S. D. Sandeep, Satyajit Mohanty

Pages: 2093 - 2109

6) An evolutionary algorithm-based approach for efficient design of Wiener spline non-linear adaptive filter and its experimental validation

Author(s): Lakshminarayana Janjanam, Suman Kumar Saha, Rajib Kar

Pages: 2111 - 2134

7) An autonomous centreless approach to chunk-wise data partitioning

Author(s): Xiaowei Gu

Pages: 2135 - 2157

8) An explainable approach to deep learning from CT-scans for Covid identification

Author(s): Eduardo Soares, Plamen Angelov, Ziyang Zhang

Pages: 2159 - 2168

9) Short-term electric load forecasting using empirical mode decomposition based optimized extreme learning machine

Author(s): Priyambada Satapathy, Jugajyoti Sahu, Amiya Naik

Pages: 2169 - 2191

10) Empirical mode decomposition-based biometric identification using GRU and LSTM deep neural networks on ECG signals

Author(s): Hatem Zehir, Toufik Hafs, Sara Daas

Pages: 2193 - 2209

11) HUMRC-PS: Revolutionizing plant phenotyping through Regional Convolutional Neural Networks and Pelican Search Optimization

Author(s): P. Kumar, A. Senthilselvi, S. Suprakash

Pages: 2211 - 2230

12) Deep neural networks for the early diagnosis of dementia and Alzheimer’s disease from MRI images

Author(s): Qian Wang

Pages: 2231 - 2248

13) An enhanced spider wasp optimization algorithm for multilevel thresholding-based medical image segmentation

Author(s): Mohamed Abdel-Basset, Reda Mohamed, Ibrahim A. Hameed

Pages: 2249 - 2271

14) A novel Move-Split-Merge based Fuzzy C-Means algorithm for clustering time series

Author(s): Wei BaZongquan Gu

Pages: 2273 - 2295

15) GAN-enhanced E-nose analysis: VTAAE for temporal dynamics in beef quality assessment

Author(s): Viancy Vincent, Gobalakrishnan Natesan

Pages: 2297 - 2311

16) Handwritten signature verification system using hybrid transfer learning approach

Author(s): Rashmi Rathi Upadhyay, Koushlendra Kumar Singh

Pages: 2313 - 2322

17) Evolving knowledge representation learning with the dynamic asymmetric embedding model

Author(s): Muhib A. Khan, Saif Ur Rehman Khan, Omair Bilal

Pages: 2323 - 2338

18) Deep residual learning-based denoiser for medical X-ray images

Author(s): Ajay Mittal, Navdeep Kaur, Gurprem Singh

Pages: 2339 - 2353

19) A one stream three-dimensional convolutional neural network for fire recognition based on spatio-temporal fire analysis

Author(s): Zeineb Daoud, Amal Ben Hamida, Serge Miguet

Pages: 2355 - 2381

20) A multi-agent reinforcement learning based approach for intelligent traffic signal control

Author(s): Karima Benhamza, Hamid Seridi, Amel Bentagine

Pages: 2383 - 2397

21) IG-ANGO: a novel ensemble learning algorithm for breast cancer prediction using genomic data

Author(s): M. Shalini, S. Radhika

Pages: 2399 - 2418

22) Optimizing parameter settings for hopfield neural networks using reinforcement learning

Author(s): Safae Rbihou, Nour-Eddine Joudar, Khalid Haddouch

Pages: 2419 - 2440

23) A hybrid principal label space transformation-based ridge regression and decision tree for multi-label classification

Author(s): Seyed Hossein Seyed Ebrahimi, Kambiz Majidzadeh, Farhad Soleimanian Gharehchopogh

Pages: 2441 - 2477

[zirhlikuzgun]

January's crew - Page 2

,,,

[866] {347} ♂ Flint Nilsson

[867] {348} ❤️ ♀ Jean Nilsson

[868] []

[869] []

[870] []

[871] {349} ♀ Kathi Nilsson

[872] {350} ❤️ ♂ Pierre Nilsson

[873] []

[874] []

[875] []

[876] {351} ♀ Elisa Nilsson

[877] {352} ❤️ ♂ Hessel Nilsson

[878] []

[879] []

[880] []

?

[15481] {6193} ♂ Conny Bertilsson

[15482] {6194} ❤️ ♀ Julia Bertilsson

[15483] [4729 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15484] [1653 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15485] [2410 newborn babies]

[15486] {6195} ♂ Calvin Bertilsson

[15487] {6196} ❤️ ♀ Jenny Bertilsson

[15488] [4821 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15489] [1638 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15490] [2487 newborn babies]

[15491] {6197} ♂ Gary Bertilsson

[15492] {6198} ❤️ ♀ Zira Bertilsson

[15493] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15494] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15495] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15496] {6199} ♂ Gert Bertilsson

[15497] {6200} ❤️ ♀ Ziri Bertilsson

[15498] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15499] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15500] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15501] {6201} ♂ Kevin Schwarz

[15502] {6202} ❤️ ♀ Hilda Schwarz

[15503] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15504] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15505] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15506] {6203} ♂ Karl Schwarz

[15507] {6204} ❤️ ♀ Frida Schwarz

[15508] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15509] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15510] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15511] {6205} ♂ Kalim Schwarz

[15512] {6206} ❤️ ♀ Petra Schwarz

[15513] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15514] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15515] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15516] {6207} ♂ Kurt Schwarz

[15517] {6208} ❤️ ♀ Billi Schwarz

[15518] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15519] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15520] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15521] {6209} ♀ Jennifer Blomberg

[15522] {6210} ❤️ ♂ Martin Blomberg

[15523] [4939 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15524] [1585 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15525] [2314 newborn babies]

[15526] {6211} ♀ Julia Blomberg

[15527] {6212} ❤️ ♂ Marko Blomberg

[15528] [5623 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15529] [1645 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15530] [2297 newborn babies]

[15531] {6213} ♀ Zira Blomberg

[15532] {6214} ❤️ ♂ Manni Blomberg

[15533] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15534] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15535] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15536] {6215} ♀ Zif Blomberg

[15537] {6216} ❤️ ♂ Milo Blomberg

[15538] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15539] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15540] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15541] {6217} ♀ Hilda Hielscher

[15542] {6218} ❤️ ♂ Micke Hielscher

[15543] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15544] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15545] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15546] {6219} ♀ Hazel Hielscher

[15547] {6220} ❤️ ♂ Michael Hielscher

[15548] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15549] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15550] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15551] {6221} ♀ Flora Hielscher

[15552] {6222} ❤️ ♂ Melvin Hielscher

[15553] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15554] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15555] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15556] {6223} ♀ Bettina Hielscher

[15557] {6224} ❤️ ♂ Morris Hielscher

[15558] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15559] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15560] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15561] {6225} ♂ Joakim Fröberg

[15562] {6226} ❤️ ♀ Michelle Fröberg

[15563] [5100 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15564] [1650 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15565] [2288 newborn babies]

[15566] {6227} ♂ Justin Fröberg

[15567] {6228} ❤️ ♀ Martha Fröberg

[15568] [4623 newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15569] [1702 newborn cousins and siblings]

[15570] [2316 newborn babies]

[15571] {6229} ♂ Jeppe Fröberg

[15572] {6230} ❤️ ♀ Melanie Fröberg

[15573] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15574] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15575] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15576] {6231} ♂ Julien Fröberg

[15577] {6232} ❤️ ♀ Mary Fröberg

[15578] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15579] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15580] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15581] {6233} ♂ Harry Kessler

[15582] {6234} ❤️ ♀ Nina Kessler

[15583] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15584] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15585] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15586] {6235} ♂ Hilbert Kessler

[15587] {6236} ❤️ ♀ Natalie Kessler

[15588] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15589] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15590] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15591] {6237} ♂ Hubert Kessler

[15592] {6238} ❤️ ♀ Natja Kessler

[15593] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15594] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15595] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

[15596] {6239} ♂ Freddy Kessler

[15597] {6240} ❤️ ♀ Nargiz Kessler

[15598] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn friends and play/roommates]

[15599] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn cousins and siblings]

[15600] [¯\_(ツ)_/¯ newborn babies]

,,,

[rajkumaridasi]

Shraddha TV Satsang 22-08-2023 || Episode: 2297 || Sant Rampal Ji Mahara...

🎉 8 सितंबर 2023 जगतगुरु तत्वदर्शी संत रामपाल जी महाराज के 73वें अवतरण दिवस के उपलक्ष्य में आयोजित महासमागम में आप सपरिवार सादर आमंत्रित हैं।

💥 आयोजन स्थल का पता है -

🎊सतलोक आश्रम सोजत (राजस्थान),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम खमानो (पंजाब),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम धुरी (पंजाब),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम धनाना (हरियाणा),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम भिवानी (हरियाणा),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम कुरुक्षेत्र (हरियाणा),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम बैतूल (मध्य प्रदेश),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम शामली (उत्तर प्रदेश),

🎊सतलोक आश्रम धनुषा (नेपाल देश)

इस भव्य कार्यक्रम का सीधा प्रसारण 08 सितंबर 2023 को सुबह 09:15 बजे से साधना TV पर और सुबह 09:30 बजे से पॉपुलर TV पर होगा। साथ ही, इस विशेष कार्यक्रम का सीधा प्रसारण आप हमारे सोशल मीडिया Platform पर भी देख सकते हैं जो निम्न हैं:-

Facebook page:- spiritual Leader Saint Rampal Ji Maharaj

Youtube:- Sant Rampal Ji Maharaj

Twitter :- @SaintRampalJiM

↪️💥अधिक जानकारी के लिए संत रामपाल जी महाराज द्वारा लिखित पुस्तक "ज्ञान गंगा" फ्री में ऑर्डर करे ⤵️

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeLPF3UzWec_Keiq3rtd2ctK6-_VyNnAZI8-rXDDREYWLc8uA/viewform?usp=sf_link

या

अपना नाम ,पूरा पता, पिन कोड ,मोबाइल नंबर हमें Whatsapp करें +91 7496801825

पुस्तक और डिलीवरी चार्ज बिल्कुल निःशुल्क (फ्री) है।

↪️💥PlayStore से Install करें :-

"Sant Rampal Ji Maharaj" ऐप्प🙏

↪️💥अवश्य सुनिए जगतगुरु तत्वदर्शी संत रामपाल जी महाराज के मंगल प्रवचन निम्न टीवी चैनलों पर :-

➜ साधना चैनल 📺 शाम 7:30 से 8:30

➜ श्रद्धा चैनल 📺 दोपहर - 2:00 से 3:00

#SaintRampalJi

Visit- "Satlok Ashram" on YouTube.

[thailandeventguide]

Are you a fan of Japanese culture and anime? Do you have a passion for cosplay? Get ready to immerse yourself in the exciting world of KOKORO cosplay event! Join us on Sunday, May 21st, 2023, at The Market's 1st Floor Zone M1 for an unforgettable experience. Kokoro Cosplay at The Market in Bangkok Our fantastic lineup of guests is ready to entertain you with their incredible costumes and performances. Whether you're a seasoned cosplayer or just starting out, you'll be inspired by the creativity and dedication of our guests. Fantastic Costumes and a Crossplay Contest But that's not all – we're also hosting a Cosplay Event Contest for those who want to show off their skills at gender-swapping splay. This is an excellent opportunity to push the boundaries of traditional cosplay and explore new and exciting ways to express yourself. Tickets for the event are priced at 150.-/person, and they're selling fast! Don't miss your chance to be a part of this one-of-a-kind event. Get your tickets today and prepare for an unforgettable KOKORO day! For more information about the Cosplay event, please visit our Facebook page at KOKORO cosplay or follow us on Instagram at @kokorocos.ai. Stay tuned for more upcoming events by following our page for the latest news! To learn more, check out the event on Facebook or follow us on Instagram at @kokorocos.ai. Stay updated with our latest news and upcoming events on Thailand Event Guide.     https://thailandeventguide.com/event-pro/bangkok-kokoro-cosplay-may-21-2023/?feed_id=2297&_unique_id=6443ba514180a

[suenitos]

12 paragraphs finsihed. 2297 words. seven pages double spaced times new roman 12 point font. written in the span of TWO HOURSSS

wait i want to read that

SIX PARAGRAPHS IN. I HAVE THREE MORE TO GO AT LEASTTTT

[chrisrin]

ive had some people say like “wow im surprised u didnt read homestuck, since you’ve made the how far we’ve come hermitcraft animation”! nope! hadnt read it before. only reason i knew abt hfwc was because of pomodoko’s DSMP animatic to it. i knew the HS one existed and was the original, but i didnt know anything further.

cant wait to watch that animatic when i eventually can (?)

update on my reading progress so far under read more! (if u care to know my thoughts--i’m still in act 5 act 1(? i think that’s how people call it???)):

im on page 2297 (which is this part in the story) making progress through act 5!

some bits and thoughts so far: 

i love karkat. love that guy. he’s super cool

vriska is absolutely fucked up hoooly shit poor tarvos man. and then when aradia gets rightfully pissed vriska goes and uses sollux to KILL(?BUT NOT REALLY) her?? jfc. i know the white head guy (i just call him Dream) is encouraging her but she’s still at fault LMAO. i love fucked up characters though so vriska is at least compelling, but god she’s a bitch isnt she. 

equius’s whole dedication to the blood hierarchy borders on a degradation kink and i think it’s the funniest shit in the world.

nepeta’s shipping wall also had me losing it. she has a crush on karkat,,, cute <3

karkat being a nerd abt the whole emotions and kismesis(?) stuff was really funny even if i dont really know what it means. i’ve seen that chart before with the hearts, diamonds, spades, and clover as like. a relationship board (and it was also sorta on nepeta’s shipping wall w the red hearts and white diamonds) But i dont fully know what it is yet. but Ya King go off love that guy. 

my friend has been making me very cool and convenient charts and diagrams for the trolls so i can parse together what is going on. im better at identifying them now though. but i still struggle w the colors LMAO.

it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that the color of their blood = the color of what their type was. my friend had to point it out to me. 

i think that’s all my thoughts so far. my friend is excited for me to get to “make her pay” which they are telling me to make sure i dont get too far ahead on my own so they can be in call w me when i get there.

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

part i. the fear and the fire of the end of the world

[masterlist]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 3.4k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, canon-typical violence & death, mentions and use of guns/weapons, death of people and animals, sort of slow-burn

a/n: I’m so excited to share this series with you! Reader is new to the world, so much will be explained (game knowledge not required to enjoy!)

The year is 2297, and your days in Vault 113 are spent among the pages of your books - of fairytale romance, of noble knights and handsome princes. That is, until you venture from your Vault, and are immediately thrust into the harsh and cruel world of the Wasteland.

And when you find yourself being rescued by a man in armor - you can’t help but wonder if those beloved stories might just have come true.

You still dream about the sleep.

In shades of sepia, the perfect days that never seemed to end. That always seemed to be just a little bit familiar, like you had taken each exact step before.

The idyllic neighborhood, slow jazzy notes floating in from open windows. Cars that rolled down the street until they were out of sight, always at the same time. Perfectly behaved dogs, in their neat, square yards.

Now - now that you're out - you don't know why it took you so long to notice.

Maybe you didn't care. Were content to play through that single, perfect day. To ignore - at first - the glitches. The fuzzy part of your brain that said that something wasn't quite right.

The itching memory, that something bad was going to happen. Something you had picked at, until it was raw and aching and oozing.

You wonder if that is why you woke up. That something in your brain triggered the stasis - the reason why on that morning, your eyes opened to shades of green and grey.

A dome of glass overhead, a sick pneumatic hiss when you hand flattened against it. The mask you tore from your mouth and nose as you were born onto the tiled floor, shivering and confused.

It had all come back to you.

The blaring of the siren.

The man, ushering your family into the vault.

The promise, whispered with clasped hands.

It will all be okay.

We'll be together, don't worry.

Climbing into the pod, the slow sleep that came after. Waking up, in your old life.

Never waking up that way, again.

You had sat in silence, for hours. Unsure of what to do, where to even start.

Freezing in place when there was a whirr, the sound of movement - as a robotic being rolling into the room, checking the readouts on the large display.

With thick treaded tires, and a sleek, domed head. A mass that looked like a brain floated inside with one large, fixed mechanical eye. It churned your stomach, as it chirped at you.

You are 1825 days ahead of schedule. Please return to your tranquility lounger.

The pod wouldn't let you back in, though you had tried. The red button pushed flat, the screen unresponsive. Leaving you alone and helpless as you looked at the circle of others.

Of your family and neighbors and friends, still in their perfect dreamland.

You lingered there, a while longer. Too afraid of what was beyond its safe walls. Only nudged into moving when the cramp of hunger became unbearable, until you couldn't take the repeating, robotic lines any longer.

Metal doors had opened into other rooms. Empty and sterile and shades of grey steel. Bits of your memory came back - the hallways you ran through. Glimpses of what lied in them, in your rush to the pods.

Eventually, you found a mess hall. Twin machines lined the walls - white with cherry red accents, rows of cafeteria-style tables in front of them. They were still humming with life when you approached, reading the lettering across the top in blocky, silver print.

VAULT-TEC FOOD SYNTHESIZER

The press of a button dispensed thick, pink paste onto the metal tray beneath. It felt like mush in your mouth, the vaguest flavor of something, but not enough to mask the unpleasant texture.

But, much like everything now - the loneliness, the isolation - you learned to bear it.

There are some things you found, in the days that came after, that were not quite so horrible.

A room full of beds, where you tested each one to find the best. Stripping the pillows and blankets, until yours was as close to cozy as you could get.

There was a device you found, in a room full of bubble-screen computers, with their black screens and green, blinking text. It sat half-out of its box on one of the tables, and you were unable to resist removing it from its casing.

A screen sat in the middle, on top of a thick, leather strap. A booklet fell out - the pages now dog-eared and crinkled from the amount of times you read it. The first lines still seared in your memory.

If you're reading this, a scorching wave of atomic fire has likely turned the surface into a wretched husk of its former self... which means your Vault has been activated! You now have in your own hands one of America's finest, easiest-to-use personal-computational tools: the Pip-Boy.

It becomes one of your prized possessions.

Sitting heavy on your wrist, an endless supply of screens and dials that entertained you for hours. Readouts and documents and even simple, chirping games to fill the empty hours with.

The other thing you came to cherish most was the library.

Well, you called it that - though it barely compared to the ones in your memory. It was a small room - a pair of plastic chairs, beneath a thick, metal shelf lined with books of all shapes and sizes.

You'd read them all, in the months you stayed there. Even ones that made your eyes burn with their dryness; Dean's Mechanics, Infiltration Techniques Vol. 2, Pugilist Quarterly.

Fingering tracing over the thin pages, trying to make sense of things you had never heard of before.

But your favorite were the fairy tales. Just four books, among the two dozen.

Grimm and Perrault. Andersen and Lang.

Their books thick and illustrated, the spines and covers stamped with gold.

The romances were the ones you visited, again and again. Younger you would have loved the macabre - evil witches, plucked out eyes, soul-wrenching betrayal.

But in this new world, you couldn't bear it.

You got lost in the pages. The girl who fell in love with the Beast, who was not so monstrous after all. Another, who risked everything to dance with the Prince, only to abandon him at midnight when the spell was broken.

When you grew bored, you created your own tales. Princesses that were swept off their feet. Knight fighting dragons, a fluttering in your chest when you thought about the romance.

The twisting and twining of limbs and tongues, the slow build that lead into soft, contented sighs.

They became your comfort, as the days passed.

So similar - in ways - to the ones when you had been asleep. The same routines. Paste, read, sleep.

The same clothes - the blue and gold jumpsuit you had woken up in. That the others wore as well, in their sleep. Each one the same, with the vault’s number emblazoned across the back.

On your Pip Boy you read it was to protect you from the elements outside - but here, it only added to the monotony of your day.

Every variation of an afternoon you had done at least once. Poking into every corner of each room. Fingers tracing over the glass screen of the pods, watching your family sleep.

Reading the books again, and again. Using the bits you picked up to learn more about your Vault, what had happened.

It took you a solid month to key into the computer terminal in the main office. Clicking on different words in the scramble of letters that poured across the screen, trying to crack the password protection.

Getting frustrated and giving up - only to come back again the next day.

Finally, the beep as you were let in. Clicking through the files, piecing together a mess of text that was scattered across numerous logs over the years.

That you were in Vault 113. That it was created in partnership with several more, and a copy of the previous, 112.

That some of the Vaults were created to be an experiment. A test to see how humanity would fare, released in key waves after the Great War of 2077.

Held in a cryosleep stasis - the first to be opened at 25 years, and then at 50. Continuing every quarter-century until 225 years has passed. Ending with your vault, scheduled to be released last.

The dread settles in as you started to understand what they had meant when you woke up.

That you were early.

That all you can do is wait.

You don’t even know where you’d even start - no idea if they would fare as well as you did, to be woken up ahead of schedule.

And so, the days ticked by. The marks you scratched on the wall next to your bed slowly increasing. One for each morning you woke up, until there's 182 of them lined up in neat rows.

Finally - coming to the realization that had been nudging at you for days, for weeks. The one that had been keeping you up at night, though you wished for the unconsciousness of sleep.

That you can't sit around for 4 and a half more years, just waiting. That wasn't a life, any way to live.

That you'd go mad, talking to your Pip-Boy, the robots that only had a few lines of verbal programming.

You had to know, to see. To go out.

Into the world. Alone.

You'd watched the videos.

The short animated films. The cartoon boy with the vault suit like yours, as he explained life after the fallout. How it would be different - tips on survival, how to keep sharp, how to use your own experiences and talents to your advantage.

It helped, giving you an idea of what to expect, but you hated them. The little acronyms, the cheesy animation - they seemed to mock the massive loss from nuclear annihilation.

The grainy, black-and-white recordings you find, after.

Prepared and left by the Overseer that no longer stayed there - who passed on the responsibility to the robobrains that still stood watch, when another Vault position opened.

They had made you weep, to think about what happened. Until you chest ached and your eyes stung. You couldn’t watch some parts, thinking about all those who had not been able to get away. Unable to help wondering about your extended family - your friends.

But it still hadn't prepared you for how vast and cruel the Wasteland was.

It had taken you another two weeks to actually open the Vault door. Dragging your feet as you collected supplies. Trying to pack everything you'd need while also trying to leave plenty in case someone else woke as you did.

Canteens of water, extra vault suits. The pink mush spooned into glass jars, clinking in your backpack, as you checked the space another time.

Leaving a note on the terminal, where you hope they'd find it.

But eventually, you had to try. You'd stalled long enough.

And so, after marking the Vault’s location on your Pip-Boy - you left.

You’ve been out for a week now. That alone feels like an accomplishment.

Not expecting how barren the world would feel, even with the preparation. It mirrors the muted browns from your dreams, though there's no hazy edges here.

Just a broken landscape of trees - still standing, stripped bare and bleached by an unforgiving sun. Crumbling roads, and what little grass endured was burnt and brittle. The air dry and thick in your lungs with the dust that kicked up, as you had carefully left the vault.

Misfortune had befell you almost immediately.

Barely out of the crumpled building that held the Vault, down the worn asphalt path, when there had been a scuttling sound. Fear and bile in your throat when a roach the size of a cat crept from the ruins, poised to spring.

Unable to do more than to grasp at the ground, fingers wrapping around a solid bit of wood. You can still hear the crunch of collision when you close your eyes, before you took off running, not wanting to see the aftermath.

The petrified branch still sits by the door, just in case.

In the half-standing farmhouse you've set up base in, until you're brave enough to wander further. That has been unnerving as well - seeing places that were different from your memories.

You had gone home, first.

It had seemed natural, though the fear lingered in your stomach, making your steps heavy. Following the road for three miles, all the while trying to force the puzzle pieces to fit. Broken bridges over dead streams, street signs that lead to crumbling, empty lots.

The road you lived on had been hit hard. It had ached - nothing left but the skeletons of your life before. Tumbling brick and rotting plaster. Chipped tile and broken floors, creaking under your feet as you stood where the kitchen once was. Must like your life before, it was just - gone.

The sentimental part of you had rooted around. Finding a rusting, red bottle cap in the ruins. A silver spoon found in the shattered remains of the counter where you grew up baking cookies.

You took them both, tucking them into your bag.

The farm you had found next, late the first night. You had been there before as a child.

The owners opened their property for apple-picking, hayrides, bonfires with sweet, melting smores. It had been a memory you had forgotten, until the bit of still-standing roof appeared on the horizon, beckoning you to it.

You'd do anything to have more of them. The memories.

The owners are gone now, as is the orchard. Just rows of thin trunks left, the branches dead and brittle.

With the wasteland around you - so very different from the safe, metal walls, the honeycomb of simple rooms - you wish you had stayed.

But much like waking up, you knew you couldn't. That you couldn't undo what happened, or forget the things that haunt you now.

Now - you spend your days wandering out. Poking around the barn to see if there's anything to take with you.

Finding a bit of joy, in some small moments.

In your books, as they soothe you to sleep. The stories are long-memorized but still bringing such comfort.

In the funny, two-head cow that had half-scared you to death when you first found it - that you know think is sort of cute. Almost poetic, in a way.

She wanders the fields behind the barn, and sometimes you go out to sit with her - keeping watch from a distance.

In your Pip-Boy, with the radio that hums out tinny tunes throughout the day - there's only a few of them it picks up, the songs on loop.

Picking through the holotapes of data - finding out that your new friend is called a Brahmin, mutated after years of radiation. It’s not much, but it's something.

It gives you hope that there might be someone else out there. It gives you the strength to think about moving on.

And you do find them - a semblance of civilization - but not in the way you hope.

You’re sleeping when it happens. Curled up in a bedroom on the second story, trying to avoid the holes that litter the hardwood floors.

It’s barely morning, the sunrise a weak, watery yellow as it peeks over the ridge. Though with a start you realize it’s not the light that has woken you. That rarely made a difference, after your time in the Vault.

Too afraid of the dark to turn off the light.

It’s the bellowing.

At first, you don’t know why it makes your skin prickle. After all, Minnie made those sounds when she first saw you - snorting and pawing at the packed earth, both sets of eyes dark and wide. Slowly settling, in the hours after - when all you did was watch from behind the fence.

The pieces click into place.

There was something out there.

You’re just getting up to look, when you hear a wild shout. The sound echoing, followed by a sharp, echoing crack.

The bellowing stops.

Your gasp is loud in the silence. Hand pressing over your mouth as your heart thuds in your chest - aching. The floor beneath you creaking as sink down onto it, trying to make yourself small.

But the voices move closer. Different tones overlapping, arguing - from the open field, then to the barn.

Then, to the house.

Your breath in your throat as the front door bangs open, a sharp voice cracking through the air.

“-lay off the fuckin’ Jet, mate. You’re fuckin’ paranoid as hell.”

The floor creaking as they move through the living room. An annoyed grunt, the rattle as something metallic clatters to the floor, making your stomach flip.

“Told you man, I heard somethin’,” Another voice answers.

Your heart drums so loudly in your ears, you’re certain it has to be audible. Tucked underneath the window, in clear view of the staircase.

If you don’t move, they’ll see you. You’re certain of it. The videos had warned you of the lawlessness, but nothing could have compared you for the fear that paralyzes you.

But, you try to be brave. Three feet to the right and you should be safe - your heart in your throat as you shift your weight, to move just out of sight.

The floor groans.

The voices downstairs stop.

You bolt.

Feet like lead, disconnected from your brain as you make for the stairs - thinking you can make it out. Skipping steps at a time, hoping that you won’t fall and break your neck. Ankles aching as you hit the bottom, sights set on the door the left open.

Almost making it out, when there’s a shout. A sharp “fuckin’ knew it” that sounds entirely too close. A gloved hand that reaches out, snagging your elbow.

Sending you off balance, slamming into the brittle wall. Pain radiates from your hip, the wood splintering from the collision. The hand closing around your ankle, yanking you hard.

The man pulls again - dragging you to the side, through the open doorway.

You’re gasping for breath, trying to yell - though nothing comes out. The air knocked from your lungs as you’re tugged across the porch, one of the steps cracking against your head as you try to grasp onto the railing.

It splinters under your grip, one of the spindles breaking free. He lets go when you reach the bottom, calling up to the second that lingers in the doorway.

“Check inside. See if there’s any more.”

A foot pressing against your shoulder, pinning you to the ground as he leans down, barking out a harsh laugh.

“Thought you could hide?”

He’s even more terrifying up close. Dark paint smeared around his eyes, dripping down his cheeks like tears. Dressed in a mismatch of leather clothes, nails driven up through the fabric at the collar. A spiked shoulder pad made from bent metal, the sharp edges a deep, rusted red.

You take a deep breath… and then swing.

The makeshift weapon collides with the side of his head, and then shatters. With a loud yell he stumbles, and you scramble - pushing yourself onto shaking knees, and then feet.

“Goddamn bitch,” He snarls, and there’s footsteps from the house, calls coming from the barn.

You don’t make it to your feet before you’re looking down the barrel of a gun. Fear and a strangled whimper in your throat as you hover in a half-crouch, hands coming up to shield your face.

A shot fires.

There’s a bright red light that sears through your closed eyelids, the smell of something burning. You open them just in time to see the man pitch to the side, his body glowing with a heat you can feel. Disintegrating as you watch, turning to ash before he hits the ground.

You can barely hear the yell from the others, the sound of your heartbeat drowning the world out. Faintly aware of one cracking shot, and then another, a deep reverb echoing across the flat plane.

Rocks skittering on the ground around you, the tremor of heavy steps and sharp mechanical hisses. Loud cries and shots traded as you cower, unable to look away from the scorched earth where a person just was.

And then, everything goes quiet.

A shadow falls across you, and you’re looking up. Seeing the figure that’s crumpled against the stairs. The unmoving peppering of bodies littering the ground, out near the barn. Never making it any further.

Up, and then up - to where a giant suit of armor towers over you. Painted in shades of green that you thought you had forgotten. A long rifle tucked in the crook of its thick arm, the end a hot, steaming red.

It’s head tilts - as a low, mechanical voice breaks through the silence.

“Its dangerous to wander the wasteland alone, ad’ika.”

ad’ika - little one

thank you for reading! 💚 part ii will be out thursday, the 9th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tagging some friends that liked the sneak peek 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights , @wingofshadow , @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force , @valentine-tx, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved)

[dirkspanelcollection]

EVERY PANNEL EDOLON VRYCHE IS IN FROM VAST ERROR

Part 4

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EVERY PANNEL EDOLON VRYCHE IS IN FROM VAST ERROR

Part 1

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[jedi-mabari]

Be Gentle With Me

Word Count: 2297 Warnings: Mentions of blood, but mostly it's just fluff. A/N: Two fics in one day? Such a rarity. This is my first official Steve fic, and I hope you guys like it! This takes place after the big climax in season 2, but like, right after. No spoilers though.

Summary: You have been up late doing homework when Steve comes banging on your door.

You were sprawled across your bed, finishing your calculus homework. You were tired enough that the numbers started swirling together on the page. You dropped your pencil down into your textbook, closing it before sliding it off of your bed to gently lay it on the floor. You glanced over at the clock, yawning at the glowing red numbers. It was almost one in the morning. You stretched and your stomach growled. It suddenly hit you that you had skipped dinner, and you were pretty hungry.

You rolled out of bed, heading for the kitchen. You were home alone, with your parents gone for an extended camping trip out of town, so you didn’t have to worry about waking them up on your way to get something to eat. You skipped down the stairs to get to the kitchen to make a late night snack. You pulled the door open and started digging around your fridge for something you didn’t need to cook. There were last night’s leftovers, roast chicken and potatoes. The chicken would make a nice sandwich. You pulled the chicken, tossing it onto the counter, but as you reached for the bread, a loud knock on the front door made you jump.

“Come on, (y/n),” you heard after a second round of heavy knocking, “I know you’re home! I saw the lights.” You tiptoed to the front door, peeping through the peephole. You relaxed and rolled your eyes as you spotted Steve leaned against the wall outside. He sounded drunk, and it was better to invite him in and put him to bed than to let him drive home.

“What are you doing here Harrington,” you asked, flicking on the porch light as you opened the door. You audibly gasped when you saw the bruises on his face. He looked rough, the bruises around his eyes dark. “Who beat your face in?” You spoke as you pulled him into your house, flicking on the hall light to get a better look at the damage, worried about broken cheekbones, the thought of him being drunk long gone from your mind. He had a crisscross of bandaids on his forehead, covering only part of a serious cut.

“Hargrove,” he mumbled, allowing you to carefully examine his face, wincing as you cupped his jaw to draw his face closer to yours.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” you growled. He stumbled, his knees buckling for a moment. His hands slammed into the wall behind you to keep himself from collapsing into you. You back into the wall, dropping your hands to his chest to try and help steady him.

“Yeah, but you should see him,” he chuckled, leaning closer to you. You rolled your eyes and helped him stand up, wrapping your arm around his ribs to keep him upright.

“As bad as Jonathan last year?” You chuckled, but he didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, letting you lead him into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter as you filled a glass with water. “I could have kicked his ass.” He said as you pressed the glass and a couple of aspirin into his hands.

“I’m sure you could have,” you chuckled, grabbing a washcloth out of the draw by the sink. You ran it under warm water and rung it out until it was damp instead of dripping. “Come on, Balboa,” you chuckled, wrapping your arm around his middle as he set the water glass by the sink. You pulled him into the living room and pushed him down onto the couch.

“Fine,” he sighed, throwing his hands up, laying his head back, “have your way with me!” You chuckled, carefully pulling the my little pony band-aid off of his forehead. “But please,” he said, rolling his head to the side, “be gentle with me.” You laughed, gently turning his head so he was facing you, giving you access to his blood covered face. You gently started to clean the blood away with the warm cloth, careful not to use too much pressure so as not to hurt him anymore than he already was..

“Why are you this bad at fighting,” you chuckled, carefully cleaning the grime and blood away. You moved the cloth down to clean dried blood from under his nose. “And why Billy? You couldn’t find anyone a little less crazy? Hell, even a grizzly would have been an easier fight.”

“I did alright,” he said, looking up at you with those big beautiful brown eyes, that stupid goofy grin spreading over his face. “And I’m doing better now that I’m here with you.”

“You’re concussed,” you chuckled, cleaning away the blood on his lip and chin. His smile got wider, blinking slowly at you.

“And you’re the most beautiful person,” he chuckled, smiling at you. You rolled your eyes and brushed some hair out of his face.

“Oh god, it’s worse than I thought,” you sighed, stepping around the couch. You perched on the coffee table in front of him. “You might have brain damage.” He sat up and glared at you, taking the washcloth from your hand and pressing them against his face. He let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“Shut up. I think you're beautiful, and you should be told more often.” It was your turn to sigh, scooting back from him. He slumped back into the couch and you shook your head.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” you said. You stood up and walked back to the kitchen to get him something frozen for his bruises. You opened the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen peas when you felt Steve grab your hand. You hadn’t heard him follow you out of the living room, and you gasped as he pulled you into his arms. He buried his face in your shoulder as he pulled you tight to his chest. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You could feel him shaking as you held onto him. You couldn’t tell if he was crying, or if his body was just decompressing after his long night. You combed one hand through his hair as the other rubbed circles into his back. You didn’t know what else to do. He’d been in fights before, and had never done this.

“It’s okay,” you said, holding him in the freezer light, the cold air pouring down your back and legs. You felt his hands fist into your shirt, pulling you tight against him. You were scared, you had never seen Steve like this, and it was freaking you out. “Do you wanna know a secret?” You whispered into his ear, curling your fingers into his hair, wanting nothing more than to comfort him.

“What,” he asked, his mouth pressed into your shoulder. You carefully pushed his head back so you were making eye contact. You could see the tears in his eyes, and it broke your heart.You carefully brushed a tear from his cheek and smiled softly.

“I really do think you’re beautiful too,” you said softly, pushing some hair out of his face only for it to fall right back into place. He smiled, keeping his arms around you.

“Really?” You nodded, carefully running your thumb over his bruised cheekbone to catch and wipe away another tear.

“Yeah, really.” He dipped his head back down into your shoulder, pulling you back against him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders again. He didn’t stop shaking, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. You held him for a few minutes, kicking the freezer door closed so you weren’t shivering.

“Steve,” you said softly, your fingers running through his hair, “we should get that cut taken care of.” He pulled back slowly, letting go of you to raise his fingers to his forehead. They came away wet with blood. He looked down at your shirt and frowned.

“I got blood on you,” he said, carefully pulling your shirt away from your shoulder. “Sorry about that.” You shrugged and started leading him to the bathroom upstairs. You pushed him down into the toilet so you didn’t have to try and reach the top of his head accurately. He sat back on the toilet, letting his head rest against the wall as you dug out the small suitcase your parents kept all the first aid stuff in.

“This might sting a little,” you said, pressing a cotton swab over the cut on his forehead. At first it was cold, but after a second it began to burn. He flinched away from your hand, wincing as the Peroxide began to bubble and fizz against the cut.

“Fuck that shit burns,” he said, gently clapping his hand over the cut. You gave him an apologetic grimace, gently grabbing his wrist.

“I’m sorry, but it needs cleaned,” you sighed, pulling it away from his face. “I can only try to be more gentle.” He frowned and rolled his eyes, but sat back up so you could clean the cut. You gently held his jaw in place with your free hand and gently dabbed the swap at the cut again. He flinched and you pulled your hand back. You tried to take a step back, but his hands moved to your hips, pulling you back into place.

“Please just hurry up,” he begged, “I just want to go to sleep.” You set your mouth into a firm line and nodded, moving your free hand into his hair this time, slowly wiggling your fingers in it to comfort him while you worked. He still flinched, but instead squeezed your hips, pulling you just a touch closer each time. Before long, the cuts on his face were sanitized and properly bandaged.

“Are you done yet,” he asked, his eyes closed but his hands still gripping your hips. You combed your hands through his hair and smiled softly.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he sighed, taking his hands from your hips, using them to pull him to his feet. He slumped against you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He shuffled alongside you to your room, deciding he could at least get a half comfortable night of rest on a real bed instead of the couch.

You got him onto your bed, trying to ease him down, but he flopped back, landing diagonally on the mattress. You let out a little chuckle, removing his shoes. You’d have to wash your bedding in the morning anyway, but sneakers on the bed just seemed wrong. You grabbed his hand, coaxing him into a sitting position. He groaned and pouted.

“But I want to sleep,” he pouted, flopping his arms on the bed.

“After you take off your coat and jeans,” you sighed, unzipping his coat. He helped you by shrugging it off of his shoulders. “Alright, now, I need you to stand up and get out of those pants. I’ll toss them into the wash in the morning so you have something clean to wear.” He nodded, letting you pull him to his feet. He unbuttoned his jeans and wiggled his hips, trying to get them to drop. They did eventually end up around his ankles, but only after an encouraging push from you. You rolled your eyes as he flopped back onto the bed. You pulled the pants from his ankles, scooping up his jacket before heading downstairs.

You dropped the clothes in the washer, grabbing the washcloth out of the living room. Your shoulder had blood on it from earlier when Steve hugged you in the kitchen. You peeled your shirt off, dropping it into the washer as well. You started the washer and grabbed a clean shirt out of the clean basket on your way back to the kitchen.

The chicken was still on the counter by the fridge, and you let out a heavy sigh. You didn’t want a sandwich anymore so you grabbed the chicken and put it back into the fridge. You heard a thump from your room and rolled your eyes, heading back to your room. You pushed open the door to find Steve curled up on the floor, shaking again. You ran to him, pulling him into your arms.

“Steve, it’s okay,” you said, your arms wrapped around him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He clung to your arm as you wrapped it around his chest. He jerked like he had just woken up, gasping loudly. You held him tighter, and as he realized he was in your room, he relaxed a little. “It’s okay Steve, you just fell out of bed,” you explained, running a soothing hand through his hair. He nodded, pulling away from you just enough to turn around and wrap his arms around you.

“I’ve got you,” you assured, holding him tight against you. It must have been one hell of a nightmare to have knocked him out of bed. After a few minutes of soothing him, you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Let’s get you back into bed, okay?” He nodded, and both of you stood up enough to sit him back down on the bed. He didn’t let go of you as you tried to lay him back.

“Please stay,” he said, looking up at you with those large brown eyes that had always made your heart swell. You glanced over at your clock to see it was nearly two in the morning now. You nodded, pulling your comforter down so he could slip in between the blankets. You crawled into the bed next to him, pulling the blankets up around the both of you. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around you. You held him close, one hand rubbing soothing circles over his back, the other combing through his hair until he was asleep in your arms.

[overtrolled]

Hivebent Character Interaction Quick Reference

Page numbers of the various conversations:

2010: Gamzee/Karkat

2024: Terezi/Gamzee

2027: Sollux/Karkat

2055: Terezi/Nepeta

2058: Karkat/Terezi

2061: Karkat/Terezi

2069 - Explanation of Lusii

2082: Sollux/Terezi

2085: Aradia/Sollux

2086: Sollux/Terezi, Sollux/Karkat

2122: Vriska/Tavros

2123: Gamzee/Tavros

2139: Kanaya/Aradia

2144: Vriska/Aradia

2146: Sollux/Aradia

2161: Karkat/Nepeta

2162: Nepeta/Equius

2164: Nepeta/Tavros

2168: Tavros/Aradia (team charge)

2172-2176: Vriska/Tavros (team charge)

2177: Tavros/Karkat (games for girls)

2178: Vriska/Karkat

2193: Nepeta/Aradia

2202: Scratch/Vriska

2204: Kanaya/Vriska

2221: Equius/Gamzee

2222: Vriska/Equius

2237: Vriska/Terezi

2238: Terezi/Aradia (team charge)

2244: Scratch/Vriska (team charge)

2246: Vriska/Aradia (team charge)

2256: Terezi/Scratch (team charge)

2258: Terezi/Vriska (team charge)

2263: Terezi/Scratch (she has what?)

2276: Vriska/Aradia

2278-2281: Equius/Aradia

2285-2288: Aradia/Equius

2296-2297: Vriska/Karkat

2328: Feferi/Kanaya

2343: Eridan/Kanaya

2349-2351: Vriska/Tavros

2356: Kanaya/Vriska

2360: Vriska (to Kanaya)

2365: Vriska (to Tavros)

2369-2370: Vriska/Tavros

2448: Eridan/Feferi

2476: Feferi/Eridan

2470: Karkat (to Sollux) (PLEASE TELL ME THAT'S JUST HONEY)

2475: Eridan/Gamzee

2543: Karkat Memo

2547: Karkat Memo

2567: Memo (Karkat & Kanaya)

2574-2576: Karkat/Terezi

Other useful page references:

2091-2092: Explanation of Lord English Code / Already Here

2392-2406: Explanation of Troll Romance/Quadrants

2463-2464: Explanation of Gl'bgolyb/Vast Glub

2495: Explanation of Troll Romance/Quadrants again (1 page)

2590-2624: Aradiabot log

[togetherwearerapture]

Awake (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Summary: As Naveen Banerji’s life and Elle Valentine’s future hang in the balance, neither Ethan or Elle are getting much sleep.  (Set between Chapter 16 and 17)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine)

Warnings: ANGST, reference to sexual scenes but not specifically described.

Notes: YIKES this is my first EVER fic, for anything and I’m SO NERVOUS!! So please let me know what you all think and if you want to be tagged in any future ones, because I have a few ideas planned for our fave Ethan Ramsey and MC! I started writing this after chapter 16 and aimed to finish before the finale, it didn’t happen but I needed to unload some of the heavy angst that was hanging between the two. Hope you enjoy anyway! (2297 words)

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

“Are you awake?”

“Yes”

Almost instantly came a follow up message, as Ethan should’ve expected.

“Is Naveen okay?”

He could sense her urgency just through the text, and quickly typed out a reply.

“Still the same, his vitals have been stable all night. Don’t worry. You should be asleep.”

Ethan was sitting on the sofa opposite Naveen, who was sleeping deeply in his armchair. There were no sounds in the little river house except his comatose mentor’s soft breathing, the gentle beeping of the monitoring equipment, and the steady tick of the clock on the wall. 1.13am.

“I can’t. Just can’t switch off.”

Just as Ethan had thought. It was why he had text her in the first place. He had been picturing her laying in bed, staring at her ceiling as the minutes and hours until the hearing inched ever closer. And more than anything, right now, he just wanted to hear her voice.

“Do you want to call?”

“Yes.”

Ethan smiled to himself and pressed dial. Elle picked up straight away.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m glad Naveen’s stable. I’ve been worrying about him all night.”

“You should be worrying about the hearing instead, Rookie,” he said, then cursed internally at how it must have sounded. “I mean, not worrying, preparing. Focused on. Sorry,” he spluttered quickly.

“It’s okay, I know what you meant,” chuckled Elle softly. Ethan heard her sigh. “But I should be. And I have. I’ve been worrying about the hearing too. But now I feel like I’ve just been worried about everything non-stop, and my brain doesn’t have the energy to be worried anymore. I just feel kinda…numb.”

On her last word, her voice broke a little, and it pained Ethan to hear a small sniff in the few seconds of silence that followed.

“Elle,” he began. “You can’t let this get to you. Sure that asshole Nash will be baying for your blood, and a few of his ass-licking, big-pharma-licking Attendings, but you’ve got so many doctors on your side too. And your patients. You’ve saved their lives. So many have seen your work, your compassion, your intelligence and skill. You’ve got a strong defence.”

“I guess so,” whispered Elle. “And I have you.”

Ethan remembered the promise he made her the previous night, to be there for her, as she lay in his arms.  

“Yes,” Ethan murmured softly, “you have me.”

After a few seconds Ethan heard another small sniff, and felt another pang in his chest. He knew any words of comfort he had to offer her could never take her pain away completely, and wished so desperately that he could abolish the hearing altogether.

“I wish I could hold you.”

The words slipped out his mouth effortlessly, and he realised he had never said anything along those lines to anyone before. But it just felt right. Perhaps the lateness of the hour and the stress of Naveen and the hearing had ebbed away at any walls that Ethan had up.

“I wish you could too. I miss you, Ethan.”

The last part of her sentence was less than a whisper, barely audible, and Ethan could hear the tears in her voice. Suddenly, Ethan became aware of some of his own rolling down his cheek.

He was on edge with Naveen laying before him. It could all go wrong at any moment. His stats could plummet suddenly if the encephalitis took a hold. But he was exhausted. And god, he wanted her. It had only been a few hours since she had gone home, but what was the point of lying, or pretending? He yearned for her. For her presence, her touch, her voice, her feel. He yearned for her so much his heart hurt.

“I miss you too, Elle,” he said, his eyes beginning to well up. “I miss you so damn much.”

The tears burned his eyes and his cheeks, but somehow it felt good, cathartic almost. He hadn’t expected to cry, but here he was, and it felt good to just let them come. It was as if a damn had broken. There were no more walls to keep up, no more feelings to smother away deep in his core, the weight of them eating away at him. His hot tears seemed to melt away his steely defence, and let him just feel. Never before had he been engulfed with so much emotion; he could be about to lose Naveen, and Elle could lose her whole career.

His free hand clutched the edge of the sofa as if clinging to life itself, his knuckles turning white. His fingers pressed hard into the edge of his phone, shaking. He so badly wanted to be with her and hold her. Whenever he held her, things felt right.

All the times she had taken his hand or taken him into her arms when he thought he would break down, when he thought his knees would give way and his resolve would fall into the earth. Her floral blossom scent would engulf him with an intoxicating mix of both comfort and desire, the feel of her silky golden hair against his cheek, the softness of her small hands in his own. She had no idea how much he wanted her, needed her.

“I wish we could just go back to last night,” Elle said, and Ethan could hear the smile in her voice now. “I was so happy last night. I couldn’t remember the last time I was that happy.”

Ethan remembered just over 24 hours ago, at the ecstasy that they had experienced together. For just a night, all the pain in their worlds was forgotten. Naveen wasn’t dying, Teresa Martinez wasn’t dead, and there was no hearing. There was just them.

Ethan closed his eyes and swore he could feel her soft, full lips on his, her tongue in his mouth. He could feel her slender body under his roving hands, her peachy backside, her full breasts. The feel of her warm thighs around him as he carried her to the bedroom, her sweet, delicious taste as he devoured her against the cool glass, and the feel of finally, finally, being inside her.

“God, me too,” Ethan murmured, still half-wallowing in his glorious memories of last night. “It feels like a different world.”

“I know what you mean,” replied Elle. “I can’t believe it happened, but it did, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

Ethan had to remind himself that it really did. He had finally made love to the most beautiful, exquisite woman he had ever laid eyes on, and cared for so deeply. In the midst of all the misery of both their lives, it hardly seemed possible to experience such euphoria in the madness.

“Was it real?” whispered Elle.

“Elle? What do you mea-”

“Are you real, Ethan?”

Her words, thick with emotion, caught him off guard. Before he could respond, however, Elle spoke.

“I’m sorry,” she chuckled, “It just made me so happy, it didn’t even seem possible.”

There were a few moments of silence, before Elle spoke again.

“I wish we could just run away. After tomorrow, when I lose my license. Start our early retirement off with a bang,” Elle laughed bitterly.

Ethan wanted to chide her and reassure her that everything would be fine, that she wouldn’t lose her licence. But somehow, in that moment, his longing to do just as she said and run away together won precedence.

“Where would we go?”

Elle paused.

“There’s a painting on my wall…well, my painting actually. Of Tuscany.”

“Your painting? I didn’t know you painted?” said Ethan, surprised.

“Yeah, well I used to. I loved it. I guess medical school didn’t allow much time for leisurely activities. And definitely not here in Boston.”

“Do you have any more?”

“More what?”

“Paintings. I want to see them.”

“Oh!” said Elle, surprised. “Okay. Hang on.”

Ethan heard a few muffled sounds at the other end of the phone, the sound of a light switching on, and the sound of pages turning.

“Here…” she said.

Ethan’s phone buzzed softly, and he opened up their text conversation. Elle had sent him pictures of her paintings, in a modestly-sized artbook. He smiled at them in awe, Elle’s paintings of nature and scenery. Even through the dim resolution of the photos, Ethan could see how beautiful they were.

“I mean, they’re not great, they’re quite rushed and I never did it professionally or anyth-”

“They’re beautiful,” Ethan cut her off. “Really, they are. You should make time to paint more. And stop putting yourself down.”

“Oh,” Elle breathed softly. “I, um, thank you.”

“Can I see the one on your wall?”

“Sure. One sec.”

Moments, later, Elle pinged through a photo of the painting on her wall. Hung in what must’ve been no bigger than an A3-sized frame, was a field of bright yellow sunflowers.

“I should’ve known,” Ethan chuckled.

“What?” said Elle, her tone etched with a little wariness.

“Sunflowers. Your favourite flower.”

It was meant to come out as a question, but was more a statement.

“How did you know that?”

“Simple observation,” smiled Ethan, remembering how he had ordered her the Espresso Romano in the coffee shop. “Sunny, yellow, warm, bright and beautiful. Very you, Rookie.”

“You charmer, you,” Elle murmured happily.

“So you painted it in Tuscany?”

“Oh, god no,” Elle laughed. “I’m afraid my artistic muse was borne solely from Google Images. I’ve never been to Italy. But I’ve heard the sunflower fields in Tuscany stretch as far as you can see, it’s just a sea of yellow.” She sighed wistfully.

“A woman after my own heart,” chuckled Ethan. “But Italy is a beautiful country. Steeped in so much rich history too. Pompeii, the Colosseum, Pisa, the Teatro dell’Opera…”

Ethan trailed off, remembering the intimacy and the anguish of the opera they had attended together not so long ago.

“We should go together,” Elle interrupted his thoughts, her voice with a sudden degree of boldness and certainty that took Ethan by surprise. And yet, it made him smile.

“I’d like that, Elle.”

There were a few moments of silence, both of them lost in their thoughts about what that would mean, to run away together. Suddenly, Elle gave a tiny, stifled yawn.

“I heard that yawn, Rookie,” Ethan said sternly. “If you’re tired now, you need to sleep,” he added, more gently.

“I know,” she murmured. “But is Naveen ok?”

“He’s stable, don’t worry. I should run a couple of tests soon anyway.”

“Okay, you do that, I don’t want to keep you from him. But, Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay on the phone with me? Just as I fall asleep. You don’t have to talk, or anything. I just think it might help me drift off.”

There was such a vulnerability to her voice, it moved Ethan.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan heard her get out of bed and switch the light off, then the shuffling of the duvet as she slipped back into bed.

“Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Elle.”

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

The minutes passed by, as Ethan crouched by the sleeping form of his mentor, quietly running tests. His phone sat by the monitoring equipment, the gentle beeping of the machines not evoking any noise from the other end of the line.

Ethan paced around as the minutes turned into hours. He glanced up at Naveen’s wall clock. 3.36am.

The pacing seemed to make him all the more anxious, so Ethan picked up his phone and flopped back down onto the sofa. He pressed the phone to his ear, listening intently. He could make out the sound of Elle’s soft, gentle breathing, and it relaxed him.

“Elle?” he breathed, quietly as he could.

There was no response. Ethan was glad she had fallen into a deep sleep, and would have at least a few hours of rest before the hearing. He hoped she was dreaming of warm sunflower fields.

“Naveen’s bloods are looking good,” he whispered into the phone. It felt natural and comforting to talk to her, even if there was no response. “I think the phage is working. He could wake up at any time. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself, just in case..”

He sighed, suddenly feeling the tsunami of exhaustion wash over his body. He closed his eyes.

“You know, I can’t believe you figured it out. I’m sorry I didn’t say much earlier, when that Olsen was in the room. But…thank you. You’re brilliant. So incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth, awash with fatigue. He hardly even knew if he was still awake, or slipping into the realms of unconsciousness, but he kept talking.

“Even if he…he doesn’t make it. You let him be happy. And if he pulls through…you’re the reason he’s alive. You’re the best thing that could have happened to Naveen. And…you’re the best thing that could have happened to me.”

Ethan felt another tear trickle down his cheek.

“I love you, Elle.”

His eyes snapped open. Did he really say that out loud? Did she hear? She couldn’t have done, she was surely deeply asleep, she hadn’t said a word since goodnight. He had never said those words to anyone, god, he hadn’t even felt that way towards anyone. And yet suddenly, effortlessly, he said them.

He said them to her.

The initial panic beginning to subside, Ethan suddenly realised that it was true. And suddenly a warmth filled his body, battling away all the anger and loneliness and loss that he’d kept imprisoned within him for so many years. Love.

No matter what happened in the next few hours, he loved her. He loved Elle Valentine, and somehow, that made Ethan know that everything would be okay.

[ao3feed-keithshiro]

Sweet Dreams

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2s6F0zU

by nuttinonice

Crawling into bed is Shiro’s favorite part of the day. Sure, he loves working on the Atlas, getting to see Keith around all day long, but he loves coming home. He loves eating dinner together, snuggling up on the couch afterwards with a bad movie and Kosmo curled up on the floor by the sofa. When they have the energy, they have sex. On other nights, they might just share a shower or a bubble bath for a little physical intimacy when they’re too tired to take it all the way. They’re almost always on the same page, but sometimes Shiro is a little more keyed up than Keith is.

Words: 2297, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron)

Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)

Additional Tags: SHEITH - Freeform, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Keith (Voltron), afab language, Somnophilia, Consensual Somnophilia, Cis Shiro, Vaginal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Grinding, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2s6F0zU

[victhokchom]

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