#period where i had to finish my lines was when i was moving across the country and dealing with really heavy family issues lol

[appeypie]

Hello! Sorry for out of the blue but, i saw you were in Style on the Rise. Is that project still happening?

No prob! I'm not 100% sure myself, tbh. I know there were some problems with mods having to delay things due to understaffing and outside issues.. But it hasn't been outright cancelled.

Last update was 3 months ago, which was optimistic that it would still get released. I hope it does, all of the art I've seen for it is stunning

[mxnhoo]

to me. (l. hs)

"where's the trophy? he just comes runnin' over to me." ╰➤ athlete!heeseung x fem!reader ft jay, sunghoon, jake, riki (enha) genre. romance, fluff, basketball (majority of the plot LOL), semi-proofread w/c. 3.6k warnings. mentions of injuries/hospital, giving up on dreams, idk if this needs to be mentioned but a lot of praying cly's note. i tried my very best to recall all the basketball terms from when i still played in a team, and with the olympics taking over my tiktok, i just HAD to write something after seeing all those cute edits. hope ya'll enjoy this one! don't forget to like/reblog/comment if you did<3

now playing : the alchemy - taylor swift

Loud cheers reverberate from every corner of the room, each individual having their own team they were cheering for. The basketball court that centred the huge hall consisting of athletes that were running back and forth, bouncing the basketball and making moves that one could easily miss if you blinked. The athletes had serious expressions on their faces, anyone being able to immediately sense the tension as the game continues to progress. However, even with all the chaos that was happening, your gaze was fixated on one player, and one player only. Your boyfriend, Lee Heeseung.

Your eyes followed him as he sprinted from across the court, skillfully dribbling the ball with his hand as he successfully gets pass his opponents, finding himself open and having the opportunity to shoot a shot. He picked up the ball in his hands and took his shot for the hoop, the ball spinning around the hoop before finally falling in. You stood up in excitement and cheered loudly, the audience surrounding you quickly following and filling the area with loud cheers.

Heeseung, with his right hand dangling in the air after his shot, quickly curled his fingers into a fist and shook it in triumph, feeling proud after being able to help his team earn a point. The camera quickly panned to him, his face appearing in the big screen and he took the opportunity to nod his head and flash a pleased expression. He ran back to his court to defend, and while the opponents were still at the opposite end of the court dribbling towards them, Jay, who was Heeseung's teammate, took the opportunity to fistbump him.

As the opponents quickly approached, Heeseung stood in front of the dribbler, his feet never stepping beyond the 3-pointer line as he held his hands up, observing his opponent's every move and as his opponent quickly passed the ball, Heeseung made an attempt to intercept the pass and it succeeded, allowing him to take hold the ball and he wasted no time to dribble across the court again.

The opponents were quick to respond, and with them blocking Heeseung's way, he passed the ball to Jake who dribbled in, picking up the ball to do an lay-up which was quickly interrupted by his opponent's hand, the ball instantly being blocked and it flew behind Jake, the opponents having the ball again.

The match quickly went on and before you realised, it was already the break period before the last quarter. The scoreboard was currently a 1:2, and nervously glancing at the sidelines, you saw the athletes feeling clearly pressured, their realisations setting in that if they don't buckle up the next quarter, they were going to lose. Your eyes fell on Heeseung who was sitting on the bench, speaking to all of them with a serious expression on his face, probably coaching them. His teammates were all standing up, surrounding him and listening to him attentively as they listened his instructions on what to do next and right before they could finish their discussion, the referee blew his whistle to indicate the start of the next quarter. The different teams did their cheers accordingly before setting foot back into the court.

Heeseung prepared for the jump-ball, staring at the ball that the referee was holding between him and his opponent, and with the whistle blowing, the refereee threw the ball in the air and Heeseung jumped upwards, his hands reaching for the ball and flicking it towards him where Jake was. Jake took hold of the ball and dribbled in, managing to earn a point from a lay-up effortlessly despite the amount of tension he was feeling inside. Jake cried out in relief, his faith slowly crawling back to him as he managed to start off the quarter well for his team.

Points have been earned multiple sides from the two different teams, and currently, the opponents were ahead by 6 points. There were only 6 minutes left, and features of worry were taking over your featuresas many 'what-if''s filled your head. What if something goes wrong? What if Heeseung's hand starts to hurt again? What if he gets injured again? What if they don't win this quarter? Will they manage to do it? What if they don't win?

You bit your lip as you carefully watched the match, your fingers fidgeting as you aggressively rubbed the top of your thumbnail. The loud cheering that filled the entire hall slowly start to disappear as your head starts to get filled with the different thoughts. Your eyes that were fixated on Heeseung watched his every move, realising his serious expression as he observed the opponent, and you glanced at his right hand that was slightly shaking.

You recalled the moment when he had badly injured his right hand a few years back, how there were many sleepless nights in the hospital because the boy fractured his hand, leaving everyone worried that he possibly wouldn't be able to ball again for the rest of his life. You prayed every single night, shed so many tears, begged for a miracle to magically happen that he would just be okay again. That he can have the chance to achieve his dreams again.

The best day of your life, other than Heeseung asking you out a little before he got injured, was when the doctor announced that Heeseung would be just fine, but that he needed a year to fully recover, and that he wouldn't be able to play basketball the same way he used to. You remember the grief-striken expression on Heeseung's face when he found out, recalling those nights when he silently cried to himself which shattered your heart, but he never gave up, working hard constantly and earning himself an opportunity to play basketball again on his dream stage.

You recalled the days he had to practically re-learn basketball with his left hand, the journey becoming even more difficult since his left hand wasn't his dominant hand, but he was determined. He always woke up early to go to the gym, working out to achieve his ideal physique and then played basketball afterwards with his mates, using his right hand as minimally as possible.

You recalled one night when you and Heeseung were on a basketball date out, you in his jersey and him in his tank top, both of you just continuously doing bounce passes to each other as you both walked and looked into each other's eyes. The sun has set, the only source of light from the post lights in the court, and it was starting to get chilly. The cold breeze blew onto your faces and your hair lightly flowed in the air, and Heeseung gave you a smile that you'd never get tired of.

You both talked about random topics, whether it was about controversial questions such as "M&M or Skittles", or if it was about serious topics. One thing you'll never forget from that night was the sight of his exasperated look when he asked you, "Do you think I even have a chance?" while doing a hard bounce pass to you, the sound of the ball bouncing being the only thing that could be heard. He never specified what he meant, but you already knew.

He never admitted it, but you could tell that he was so close to giving up, and upon hearing his question, you immediately set the ball to the floor and walked to him, opening your arms and bringing him into a warm embrace.

It was an embrace he never knew he needed so much. An embrace of comfort, an embrace of reassurance. It's honestly pretty heartbreaking when it seems like you can't professionally play a sport you dedicated your entire life to. His whole world was crashing down.

You gently patted his back as you felt him cry out, nuzzling his face into your shoulders as you felt his tears on your skin. You hated to see him like this, you hated to see him so helpless and unfaithful.

"I know you'll make it," you speak up after a moment of silence, still continuing to pat his back slowly. "I'll always be here, Hee, I'm always supporting you."

That was the day you realised that it wasn't just his journey, it was a shared journey between the two of you. You pulled him up from his dark moments, and the bond between the two of you only depeened.

From that day on, Heeseung started to take trainings even more seriously, all while still taking care of his right hand, and you could see him drastically improve, whether it was his faith that he could achieve his dreams, his hand condition, or his skills in basketball in general.

You were so proud of him, and you never once gave up on him. And now you were watching your boy kill it on his dream stage, though you were worried something could happen to him again. Your teeth sunk hard onto your bottom lip until it formed a cut, but the pain didn't even register until you heaved a sigh of relief as your boyfriend scores another lay-up. 4 points gap.

All is good so far. They were closing the gap, and they had a chance to win. Everything is going well.

However, the sense of relief quickly crashed down as you looked at the clock and realised there was only about 4 minutes and 38 seconds left, panic starting to grow in you again. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn't even want to blink and your eyes were starting to dry out. You grabbed the waterbottle that was placed beside you and opened the cap, gulping down on it as you kept your eyes fixated on the ball, your eyes following it as it constantly gets passed from player to player.

Your breathing starts to pace up as you feel the anxiety inside you accumulate. Heeseung dribbles the ball, trying to strive in for a lay-up until the opponent brutally knocks into him onto the ground. You gasped loudly and stood up, your hand flying to your mouth as the crowd let out loud multiple "oooh" and "ahh"'s. The referee instantly blew his whistle and announced that there was a foul, giving Heeseung the opportunity to get 2 free-throws.

At this point, you didn't even care that Heeseung had the opportunity to score extra points to close the gap. You were only worried if he had gotten hurt in any way, watching as his teammates help him up from the ground and how his hand shakes more aggressively than earlier. You slowly sat back down on your seat, biting your lip and even tasting your own blood as you placed the palms of your hand together, almost as if you were praying to God that everything would be okay.

The camera panned to Heeseung who stood behind the free-throw line, bouncing the ball on the spot as he stares at the basketball net intensely, mentally taking his aim. His teammates and opponents all stared at him intensely, this nerve-wrecking moment possibly being a game-changer. The timer stopped, allowing Heeseung to take his own time to score, and as he picked up the ball, he shot his shot, his right hand dangling in the air.

One shot in. 3 points gap.

Everyone around you cheered and you felt the tension inside you ease down, realising that if he could still shoot just fine, he was probably okay and a small smile appeared on your face, praying for the best for his next shot. If he makes this shot, the gap between the two different teams would only be 2 points, and there was a high chance for them to be able to tie this quarter, and maybe even score more points than the other team if all goes well.

The room grew quiet, everyone staring at Heeseung as he bounces the ball once again, his eyes on the hoop as he takes aim once again, bringing the ball to his face just slightly below his eyes, and he takes his shot again, the ball going in and the number on the scoreboard for his team going up. Everyone cheered and you stood up again, bringing your hands to cover your face as you felt emotional. Your boyfriend was going to achieve his dreams of winning, you just know it, and you were going to be there to experience this achievement with him.

2 points to close the gap. 2 points until his dreams could possibly come true.

Heeseung roared out loud, looking at the camera once again, showing a rock hand gesture to the camera which you knew damn well was directed to you. You and him always enjoyed doing the rock hand gesture to tell each other "I love you" in sign language. You could see people in your peripheral vision mirroring Heeseung's hand gesture, and your heart warms up as you eventually do the same.

With the last 4 minutes and few seconds remaining, you can immediately feel the change in atmosphere. If the atmosphere was fierce earlier, you could say this one was suffocatingly intense. In the last few minutes, getting an opportunity to score was getting increasingly impossible and your worry returns once again, all the thoughts washing over you. You knew he could do it, you knew he had the skills to do it, but with the clock running, you'd hate to admit that your brain is starting to have second thoughts.

Since the quarter scoreboard was still a 1:2, if they win this quarter, the game would be tied and the game masters would then look at the total number of points scored. In the first quarter, Hee's team won with 34 points. Second quarter, the opponents won with 42 points, and 23 on the next. So this means the opponents currently have a total of 65 points, and if Hee's team is going to win, they'd need a total of 66 points, which also means 32 points alone in this quarter.

You looked at the current scoreboard, noticing how their current scores were a 30:32. 2 more points to catch up, and 3 more to take the lead and secure their win.

The fourth minute passes by, the ball being aggressively passed across the court and fought for.

The third minute passes by, and up till now none of the teams score. Your hands aggressively fidget against each other, and the audience grew silent, attentively watching as the match progresses.

The second minute, the opponents almost manage to score a lay-up, but Riki managed to block and get the rebound, managing to pass the ball to Sunghoon who dribbed swiftly across the court.

The last minute. The last minute for any magic to happen. Up till now, no teams have scored, and the supporters for the opponent team have basically relaxed in their seats, being sure that their team have secured their win already. You remained silent, along with the other supporters and you felt sweat trickle down your temple. Your breathing slowed down as your eyes flickered from player to player.

It was so evident that all the players were tired, and that they just wanted for everything to be over, and when you looked at Heeseung, the exhausted expression on his face broke your heart. He brushed his damp hair back with his hand, wiping his forehead with his jersey as he observed the opponent approaching him, preparing to make an attack.

30 seconds.

The opponent managed to dribble past him, catching Heeseung off-guard and causing him to fall on his butt. Your face turned sour as you watched the scene unfold in front of your very eyes, watching how the opponent picks up the ball to do a lay-up while Heeseung was still on the ground.

25 seconds.

Jake jumps in front of the opponent, successfully jumping the ball from going in and the ball flew to the air, all the athletes eyeing the ball and finding every opportunity to get the rebound. Sunghoon jumped into the air and took the ball, an opponent running up to him in an attempt to snatch the ball away.

20 seconds.

Sunghoon and the opponent continue to snatch, Sunghoon yelling out that he needed someone to be open, and Jake immediately responded to his call, stepping into an area where there were no defenders. Sunghoon successfully wins the ball, and passes the ball to Jake, and you could see Heeseung standing back up to his feet, his state so obviously weakened.

15 seconds.

Jake now has the ball, and he dribbles across the court. Heeseung was still at the opposite end of the court, at the brink of fainting as his teammates try their damn best to score at least another shot. Jake was frantically blocked by the opponents, not having any opportunities to strive in or shoot, so he tries to find anyone open to pass to.

"Heeseung! C'mon!" Jake calls out, immediately causing Heeseung to snap back and run towards the other court where all the other athletes were.

10 seconds.

Heeseung runs outside the 3-pointer line, holding his hands up for Jake to pass the ball to him, but one of the opponents constantly block the pathway between Jake and Heeseung, making it difficult for Heeseung to be able to receive the ball. However, there was a moment when the opponent let his guard down, allowing Jake to successfully pass the ball to Heeseung.

5 seconds.

Heeseung, standing outside the 3-pointer line, takes his last chance to shoot his shot, praying that this shot makes it.

Everyone remained silent, their eyes watching the ball.

The sounds of the ball perfectly falling in between the hoop echoed through the whole hall, and the ball bouncing on the ground after the shot was the only thing that could be heard.

They did it. They won.

33:32. Quarter scores were a 2:2, but with the points accumulated, they won.

The referee blew his whistle to indicate the end of the quarter, and he announced, "Winning team, ENHA!".

All his teammates cheered, and you couldn't believe it. Your jaw dropped, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes from how elated you felt. You watched Heeseung, observing as he scans the crowd, and as he spots you, his face immediately lighting up with a wide grin. He's now walking towards you.

Walking. Jogging. He's running. Running to you, sprinting, even.

You subconsciously walk towards him on the bleachers, watching him approach you behind the railings and once he was at close proximity, he opened his arms and embraced you. Embraced you so tightly you felt like you were going to explode. You hugged him back with the same amount of tightness, feeling the tears escape your eyes, having no words to explain how jubilant you felt. You both exchanged no words, but he knew how proud you were of him. Multiple reporters surround him, holding their cameras to him to take photos of him and capture the moment between the two of you. He pulled back from the hug to immediately cup your cheeks and pull his lips to yours.

You cried into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and he kissed you so passionately. His mouth moved in such a slow rhythm, taking his time to enjoy how perfect your lips were on his, how you complemented him so well. You felt your heart pick up the pace, almost feeling like it was going to explode, and you immediately felt blood rush to your cheeks. Loud cheers could be heard from every corner of the room, but with his lips on yours, the sounds gradually started to fade, the only thing that mattered being you and Heeseung.

Heeseung didn't experience this win alone, he experienced it with you.

He pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as he intensely looks into your eyes to form eye contact and he gives you his cheeky smile. "I did it. We did it, love."

"You did it," you look at him as tears continue to flow out of your eyes, caressing his cheek and he laughs at how emotional you were. He used both of his thumbs to wipe your tears, cupping your jaw as he gives you the smile that made you fall in love with him

"We.. did it. I couldn't have done this without you, love," he stares at you, his eyebrows arching upwards as he gives you his cute pout. The way he emphasised 'We' didn't go unnoticed, and you laugh, leaning in closer and your noses touch, closing your eyes as you give him the biggest smile.

"I'm so proud of you baby, hope you know that." "I know that very well." "Anyways, what're you doing with me? You should go celebrate with your teammates," you chuckled, and your chest felt fuzzy at how the first thing he did was run to you. "I don't need to," he retorts. "What about your trophy, baby?" you pouted. "The only trophy I need is already here with me."

You chuckled at how cheesy he sounded, opening your eyes only to be met with his serious gaze.

"I'm being serious, Y/N, you're the only thing I could care about at this moment," he confessed. You felt butterflies fill your stomach as your hands playfully smack his chest. "Thank you Heeseung, for winning." "I love you," he blurts out, which catches you off-guard but you laughed at how genuine he was. "I love you more."

And he pulled you into another kiss to celebrate his victory.

cly's tmi. before this song trended on tiktok and the olympics started, my friend and i had already talked about this song and i've been wanting to write about it for like.. 3 months now. i'm so happy i finally managed to do it, and can i just talk about how SWEET this song is? i don't really listen to taylor swift much but this song hits so hard.

[j-trow-95]

2024 in review

Thanks for the tags @artsyunderstudy and @nausikaaa

Wow. 2024 has been ... a year.

I've spent this last year flip-flopping between periods of intense creativity and intense burnout. I've barely posted anything on here, and even less over on AO3, but I have been writing, and the plot gremlins have been working overtime when it comes to planning out where the WIPs are going.

Object permanence and keeping timelines straight in my head are things I struggle with, so I can't remember exactly when I actually achieved any of these things, but I did, and that's all that matters.

Huge thanks as always to Ashton for the incredible artwork in this fic, and for the beta help along with my editor Zoë, @cutestkilla and @iamamythologicalcreature

I posted one chapter of The Trails We Blaze, my 2023 @carryonthroughtheages fic, which is a SnowBaz/The Road to El Dorado au.

Simon and Baz have been through a lot together. Growing up as criminals on London's streets; surviving the Great War; dealing with a lot of repressed feelings. But after their latest con goes wrong, they're left with nothing but an ancient map, a signet ring of unknown provenance or value, and promises of a city that doesn't even exist.

Thrust into a world of adventure with danger at every turn, they're forced to decide how far they're willing to go for a myth, a fortune, and a chance at love.

This fic is going to be a real labour of love and I have big plans for it going forward. If you haven't started it yet, here's what to expect:

adventure across post WW1 England, France, and Spain

exciting action

political machinations

idiots in love pining for each other

epic romance (when they eventually get their shit together)

I know roughly how this is going to end, and I have a first draft up to the 'It's Tough to be a God' sequence (if you know the original film), but I'm currently trying to rewrite a large section of that draft. Discovery writing has been a massive learning curve for me, but I'm excited to get back to this fic and the characters.

Again, massive thanks to Ashton for the stunning artwork of Lauren. I never stop geeking out over the fact I get to call this incredible woman my friend, and that I get to actually look at my chaos gremlin MC anytime I want!

Most of my time writing this year has been spent on approximately the billionth rewrite of my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge.

I am desperate to get this story into the hands of readers, whether that's though trad or indie publishing, and so far I've had good feedback from my editor and alpha reader on the previous draft. But me being me, I couldn't leave it at that.

So now I'm rewriting the book and completely changing the way it's written. The shift from 3rd person/past tense to 1st person/present tense has finally got things moving in terms of developmental edits; the plot flows more smoothly, character interactions and growth are coming more naturally, and for once the villain motivations and plans are becoming clear! Praise the chaos gods.

Lauren Atkins is many things. Student. Daughter. Friend. But at her core, she’s a survivor. And she has one thing on her mind … revenge.

For the lovers of genre spanning sci-fi, morally grey main characters, full spectrum queer identities, and found family, A Survivor’s Revenge will have you asking, how far are you willing to go to protect the ones you love?

I went back and looked at some super old drafts of ASR a couple of months ago; after a conversation with my alpha reader decided to reinstate an old plot line that I'd shelved, and I am super excited to get back to this one. Lauren has become even more morally grey since I last handled this plot line, so things are going to get very bloody very quickly.

So the last two months have been spend sporadically rewriting this behemoth, and I'll be continuing that into January. Originally I was doing this as part of the PaWriCo writing challenge, but I don't think I'll manage to finish the full draft by the end of January. Currently it's sitting at 27.3k words, and if I wanted to hit par I should've been at 65.2k. So, likelihood of hitting 100k by 31st January is minimal.

This little floof is largely the reason for me falling behind.

Benjamin has been back in the vets consistently since the end of November for scans and surgeries, and now for an ongoing infection following the most recent surgery. It's safe to say my nerves and wallet are strained to the maximum, but he's 100% worth it.

So yeah. 2024 may not have been the most productive year for writing, but things have been happening behind the scenes, and I'm hopeful that I'll be able to share more in the new year.

I've missed interacting with people on here, I'm tired of just lurking. This chaos gremlin is back, baby!

Tagging (sorry if you've already done something like this):  @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @emeryhall

@hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @letraspal @orange-peony

@shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @theearlgreymage @you-remind-me-of-the-babe 

[puckpocketed]

Published on The Coaches Site Live 24th May 2024: How Barry Smith’s Left Wing Lock changed hockey forever - author unclear ?? (link // archive link)

In a system similar to the trap, as your opponent breaks out with the puck, the left winger drops back from his normal position, almost lining up as a third defenseman, and moves the other defenders to their right – creating a 2-3 alignment. The centre moves over towards the spot where the left winger would be and the right winger is coming across to push the puck to the left side of the ice and try to create turnovers. The entire unit would have to read off each other, knowing exactly where everyone was going to be and being able to cover if things broke down. If the left winger has a chance to go at the puck carrier to create a turnover, the centre drops back and the right winger moves to the middle. It’s seamless when executed properly. It can be a mess if it’s not.

Full text under the cut. Squirelling this one away because I don't want to lose it. Apologies for no image IDs. Some really fun stuff about that era of the Red Wings and the story behind the tactics.

The Detroit Red Wings had to do something.

Detroit had all the pieces to be a championship team. In the 1993-94 season, they finished 46-30-8, totalling 100 points and finishing first in the NHL’s Western Conference.

The two previous seasons ended with semifinal losses, despite regular season point totals of 103 and 98 respectively.

In the first round of the 1993-94 playoffs, Detroit hosted the 8th-seed San Jose Sharks, who were making their first appearance in the Stanley Cup playoffs in franchise history.

Their run would last longer than the mighty Red Wings.

Detroit led the series 2-1, then trailed it 3-2, before scoring a 7-1 victory at home to force a Game 7.

As it turned out, their win in Game 6 was their last of the year.

Jamie Baker scored at 13:25 of the 3rd period and the Sharks eliminated Detroit with a 3-2 win at Joe Louis Arena.

It was the first time an eighth seed beat a top seed in NHL history.

I remember it well.

I was a 13-year-old, who was just really starting to get into hockey, living in Windsor, Ontario.

At the risk of sounding like Sarah Palin’s ill-fated line about Russia, I could see Detroit from my house.

The Red Wings had endured, at that time, nearly 40 years without the Stanley Cup. They had a Hall of Fame Head Coach, a line-up as deep as any in history and a fan base starving for something to celebrate.

The Detroit Red Wings had to do something.

A visit to Sweden that summer by Red Wings Assistant Coach Barry Smith set off what would be the Team of the Decade, the birth of a system that changed the way Detroit played and altered the history of hockey.

“I went over to Sweden, I had some friends over there, and there were a couple of systems I was looking at,” Smith recalls. “With European hockey, playing on the big ice sheet, there are a lot of things they can do there that we can’t do here, but what they were doing was interesting.”

Detroit was a very offensive-minded group, yet Scotty Bowman, their Head Coach, knew defence won championships.

As Smith remembers with that team, they could win 6-4 or 7-5 but had no way of winning 2-1, and a 1-0 victory was completely off the charts.

They did not have the mentality for that.

“If you can’t play defence, I don’t know how much success you’re going to have,” Smith admits. “There are only so many track meets you can win with, so this gave us a chance to play good two-way hockey.”

“I wanted to offset our offence with better defence,” he continues. “We figured out if we did a better job in the neutral zone, our defence would have a much easier job of identifying what the rush was and because we had a good offensive team, we were looking for turnovers and that quick strike mentality.”

“With our left D being as good as they were, we could play those two guys 30 minutes each, so we were good on that side of the ice,” Smith boasts. “I sat down with Scotty that summer, and we talked about this system and called it Left Side Back, which sets up, so you’ve got your left defenseman in the middle of the ice.”

In a system similar to the trap, as your opponent breaks out with the puck, the left winger drops back from his normal position, almost lining up as a third defenseman, and moves the other defenders to their right – creating a 2-3 alignment.

The centre moves over towards the spot where the left winger would be and the right winger is coming across to push the puck to the left side of the ice and try to create turnovers.

The entire unit would have to read off each other, knowing exactly where everyone was going to be and being able to cover if things broke down.

If the left winger has a chance to go at the puck carrier to create a turnover, the centre drops back and the right winger moves to the middle.

It’s seamless when executed properly. It can be a mess if it’s not.

Roots of the Left Wing Lock appear to have originated in Czechoslovakia, as a way to survive games against the dominant Soviet Union teams of the 1970s.

Taking pieces from the neutral zone trap, the left wing drops back in line with the defenseman, where the trap would force the puck carrier out of the middle of the ice and seal off the boards, which not only made it hard to make passes in the neutral zone but also prevented teams carrying the puck into the offensive end – resulting in a lot more dump and chase.

“Teams in Sweden,” Smith says, “were playing a torpedo system at the time, which was two wingers racing out of the zone and playing way up by the offensive blueline was a bit too much and I wasn’t sure the guys would buy into it.”

Barry Smith and the coaching staff brought the system into training camp in the 1994-95 season and he says the transition was pretty easy to teach.

The players, Smith says, weren’t skeptical of it at all.

“The left D loved it because it gave them a chance to freewheel, go back and create offence,” Smith expressed. “It also put the centre in the middle of the ice a lot, which they liked, so if you can have the middle of the ice-covered by your two best players, you have something positive happening.”

As Smith explains, coaching-wise, there is no one single system that is successful. A system just means where you are trying to line up and play off each other.

“It helped us create turnovers and create scoring chances off those turnovers, have less shots in our end, it helped us not play in our zone very much,” Smith highlights. “If the left wing has a chance to pressure and go, he’s gone, and we immediately have to take that spot. In the D zone if the right D stood up at the blue line and the puck got into the right corner, now the left D has to go and the left winger has to move into the middle, which is not normal for him, and the centre plays in the spot. Everyone had to be in sync.”

Smith emphasizes it’s the execution and it’s the players that have to understand the teaching points that make it work.

“Nothing works if the players don’t buy in,” Smith points out a few times in our talk. “We had a great leadership group, and we couldn’t have done anything without them being ok with it or understanding it so when we first brought the idea to them, they jumped on. I know the two left D were smiling.”

The team had the benefit back then of the two-line pass, a rule the NHL eventually removed in 2005.

At the time, teams could not pass the puck directly across two lines coming out of their own zone – the defensive blueline and the centre ice redline.

With a shortened neutral zone passing rule, the Left Wing Lock was even more formidable.

��Whatever team you have, whatever they think they are going to use, you have to understand what your players can do, and you have to honestly evaluate your team,” Smith continues. “In a football analogy, if you’re deciding you want to go to a West Coast offence, but your quarterback can’t read past one pass pattern, you have no chance.”

The system started working.

In the strike-shortened 1994-95 season, Detroit once again finished first in the Western Conference and cruised through the playoffs, beating Dallas in five games, sweeping San Jose and stopping Chicago in five before crashing to a halt in the Stanley Cup Final, being swept by Martin Brodeur, Scott Stevens and the New Jersey Devils.

The left-wing lock, despite the major shift in entertainment value for the fans, was turning things around.

“At that time, there was no redline, so that really stymied teams that tried to stretch you and honestly, we could sometimes go an entire period without the other team getting through our blueline,” Smith details. “I think the opposition got stymied because they had pressure on the forecheck and the neutral zone, it wasn’t like the 1-3-1 where you are sitting back a bit, we were on top of you, creating chances in the offensive zone because both guys could pinch hard along the boards, it really worked for what we were trying to do and it was extremely effective.”

Another famed part of Detroit’s hockey history was born from this system.

With all the offence these teams had – guys like Sergei Fedorov, Steve Yzerman and Brendan Shanahan – it was three hard-nosed, lunch bucket players, like the city itself, that became fan favourites.

The Grind Line.

“It was our secret sauce in the 1990s,” shares former Red Wings right winger, Darren McCarty. “Scotty Bowman knew his team so well and what he had and when it was Kirk Maltby and Kris Draper and I, it was so much more important for us to not allow goals than it was to score goals. We took a lot of pride in that.”

The three, along with Joey Kocur, became as formidable a group as the top scoring units. As an opponent, if you were matched up against the Grind Line, you were in for a long night.

McCarty looks back fondly on when the system was installed.

“I loved it because as the right winger, I didn’t have a lot of responsibility other than chasing the puck,” he remembers. “I’m not the best skater, I had good hockey IQ, but Draper and Maltby were the best penalty killers in the era, so I got to open up some physicality and really jump into it. Especially in the playoffs, we would just shut teams down, there was no answer to it.”

Maltby agrees.

“Obviously, we had success with it. It didn’t take a real long time to get used to it, but you had to learn sometimes you want to finish a check or run around a bit but at times that wasn’t the role, you had to be patient and allow your linemates to do what they were doing, but once the puck was turned over, especially in the offensive zone, it was time to go.”

Maltby was a latecomer to the Detroit run, he joined the team for the 1995-96 season after a trade from Edmonton but would spend the next 14 seasons wearing the Winged Wheel.

“Coming from Edmonton, we were a young team, so I was learning the NHL game and then ended up in Detroit, which was a well-coached team with a ton of talent and expectations,” Maltby explains. “We didn’t play Detroit that much and I don’t remember seeing the lock very much to be honest, because they had the puck the whole time.”

“The first thing I remember with Barry, I was new, and I didn’t really know anyone on the team, but he came up to me and we were talking and his first question to me was “Can you skate backwards?” Maltby laughs, “I thought it was a bit of a joke because at the NHL level, everyone can. I didn’t really know how to answer it, I thought I was almost being set up for a joke or something.”

Smith was quick to credit The Grind Line for their adaptation of the lock.

“We had good players in Detroit and they weren’t just good players because of their skill, they were good players because they had hockey sense and hockey IQ,” Smith highlights. “Especially that group, with their reads, it was automatic. If the left winger is gone, the centre comes back. I remember later on, we could play guys like Draper, Maltby and Kocur or McCarty and those guys could all rotate together, that’s how good they were covering for each other.”

Going from a heavily offensive-minded, run and gun team to a defensive lock, a tight system could not have been easy for everyone.

These teams were not only built on skill and speed, the hockey IQ was off the charts.

“It did change some of the guy’s roles from the previous way of playing where we used to freelance. Now there’s more responsibility for the left side and the centre and you gave your right wing a little more freedom because he was the pressure guy,” Smith admits. “I think the simplicity of it helped because there weren’t a lot of rotational reads to it.”

“The less you make a player think, the more likely you are to have success. You can’t play thinking, you have to be ready to go in microseconds, so I can’t screw up their reads or their anticipation of the actual game.”

Trust is a word that came up a lot in these conversations.

Darren McCarty hit on it a couple of times.

“The biggest thing when you are introduced to a new system is that it just takes time, but we had such great skill it caught on really quick,” McCarty says. “It gave us an extra weapon, we trusted the system and we trusted the other guys would be in the right spot and I didn’t have to think, I can just go because those guys know what I was thinking.”

Kirk Maltby was no different.

“I feel like part of it was hockey sense but a good part of it is chemistry and trust,” Maltby reiterates. “You need all that to go along with any system you’re playing. For me, once we got playing a few games we just complimented each other the way we all played, how Scotty wanted us to play that system and we read each other well, we knew what we were trying to accomplish as individuals playing a team sport.”

The Detroit Red Wings broke through in 1996-97.

They took down St Louis in six games, swept the Mighty Ducks in the semifinals and then, in a series that may have meant more to Red Wings fans than the Cup itself, knocked off Patrick Roy, Claude Lemieux, Peter Forsberg, Joe Sakic and company, finishing Colorado in six.

I remember watching that goal in the sunroom of my parent’s house.

Poor Janne Niinimaa.

Just this past year, my son and I went to Little Caesars Arena on a night that ended up being Darren McCarty Night.

They showed his two crowning moments over and over, the Stanley Cup goal and the Claude Lemieux turtle.

I couldn’t pick a favourite, but the goal still gives any Red Wings fan chills.

“You can’t sustain any system if you aren’t having success,” Smith states. “If it’s not working for you, I don’t know how long you are keeping with that system until someone says ‘time out, there must be a better way to play.’”

Smith brought the system to Assistant Dave Lewis and Head Coach Scotty Bowman and they had found their missing piece.

“One of the most amazing things about Scotty was his ability to ask questions to everybody. He goes and gets a haircut and comes back with a new forecheck,” Smith chuckles. “He hears a lot of people and he’s not afraid to try new things. Once he understood the nuances of it, he’s got such a good hockey mind – and still does – and so if you bring him something where we are able to put our best players in a position to be successful and we can create defence so the opposition can’t get into our zone, he’s all for that.”

Could it work in the NHL now?

The consensus is split.

“I don’t know if it would work in today’s NHL without the clutching and grabbing, but my responsibility was just to lock a guy up, wrap your stick around his waist or chase the puck and try to create havoc,” McCarty chimes in.

Maltby doubles down on that thinking.

“I don’t know if it would work with every team in the league but with this group, we had so much skill, guys who were good skaters and we had elite defensemen, this system just allowed us to have the puck more and then create turnovers or force teams to make plays they don’t want to, which allowed us to get the puck back.”

Smith’s take is a bit different.

“In today’s game it’s easy because everyone is 1-2-3 now, if you take a look at Colorado right now and what Cale Makar can do, he would be in the rush all the time, which is great because he’s better than most of your forwards.”

The game is constantly evolving.

Detroit evolved too.

“For the longest time, the league couldn’t figure it out,” McCarty boasts. “But when they did, we evolved, and it became the Russian Five. The Grind Line was the same though, we didn’t want the puck because we wanted to hunt after it and when we got it, we’d give it back so we could hit guys.”

Detroit took a very similar path the next season.

Mission accomplished.

The Detroit Red Wings did something.

The left wing lock turned out to be the final piece of the puzzle.

As I put this article together, I watched some old games and highlights and scrolled through name after name of some of the most elite players that came through The Joe at that time, I had to ask Barry Smith:

Could the whole system have even worked if Detroit didn’t have a Hall of Fame roster?

Smith laughs.

“I don’t know. If we would have had great right defence, maybe we would have called it Right Side Back.”

[jortschronicles]

Eclipse Coronation Ottoman

At the start of the reign of Gabriel III and Sonja III, I made them a promise. During their reign, in honor and imitation of all the fancy and beautiful clothing they produce, I would cut into a fabric that scared me and attempt to make something wearable.

Prior to Pennsic, my lovely wife picked up some garb for us at a SCA yard sale. this included the following rust/gold ghawazee that a local of mine (recently laurel) informed me is about 200-300 years post period, but would be an OK time saver for garbing myself up for Pennsic. With that knowledge safe in hand, I planned and started to sew a gomlek, with the intention of creating a single-layer supportive undergarment to reduce the number of layers worn on hot afternoons at pennsic. This would be my first ever supportive garment! As you can see in the following photos, the supportive garment was a success.

I began my research with Ottoman Turkish Garb, An Overview of Women's Clothing by Baroness Katja Davidova Orlova Khazarina. This document was recommended to me by Baroness Dominique Michelle le Vasseur. With a bit more of an idea of what I was doing (but only a bit, I was roaring full speed ahead) I used the gomlek pattern found on Turkish Costume by Vanessa Giddings. I made the gomlek from a light-medium weight white linen from stash. I serged each edge of the pieces before pinning together to prevent fraying and to buy me some time to properly finish the seams when I got home from pennsic.

Notably, this is where I made my first mistake. After making the gomlek, I decided to attempt to make it supportive just in case I didn't finish a zibin before pennsic (reader-- she didn't finish the zibin). After making the gomlek according to the Giddings pattern, I then pinched and pinned along the seam between the front body and the front gore to force a little more lift and create a "shelf" on which the breasts could rest. Because I made t his supportive, I'm glad I used a just shy of medium weight linen rather than a more appropriate looser weave, because it gave the garment the body to support the breasts.

As I was in the last leg of time crunch before Pennsic, I wanted this linen to relax as much as it was going to as fast as possible. So i threw on the gomlek, some leggings, and a lazy turban, then did some intense yard work for ~2 hours. My breasts never moved from their assigned seats, the garment relaxed comfortably, and I could move just fine in it. I then finished the gomlek off with a quick button loop and faux-pearl headed button at the neckline, though it has no structural purpose due to how I altered the garment.

With a heart full of ambition and a head empty of reason, I attacked a plan to finish a brand new entari, zibin, and an extra gomlek prior to pennsic. I accomplished none of that.

The following picture shows how I wore this for Pennsic: Gomlek, the post-period ghawazee, lazy turban, some shalwar off amazon recommended by Viscountess Caterina Giovanni, my apprentice belt, and some Rus boots as I was advised to wear ankle support in the Bog.

Upon my return home, I started planning the Entari, with the goal of having a gomlek and entari to wear to Namron Protectorate for Domi's laurel elevation (reader-- she didn't finish any of it in time). I selected from stash a black cotton for the lining and a red and rust upholstery fabric for the outer layer. This was chosen for the similarity, to my eye, between the repeating pattern in the stripes on the upholstery fabric and the patterns present on some extant entaris and in court portraiture. ORIGINALLY I had selected a bright blue silk i was certain I had in stash but my box o' saris was nowhere to be found.

The above portraits, miniatures, and extants were accessed through the Ottoman Turkish Garment Database. The prevalence of red / blue color combos in the portraits and extants, as well as vibrant colors across the board, inspired my choices. As you can see in each of the extants as well as the art, the inside edge of the garment is faced in a color different from the lining and the outer layer. In many of the portraits, the bottom edge of the garment is turned out as if caught in motion, displaying this vibrant facing. The entaris come in different lengths but tend to be in the knee to floor range, while a hip to knee length undergarment appears to be worn as a middle layer.

The center bottom quilted kaftan in red and gold (belonging to Selim I, garment c. 1512-1520) inspired my choice of fabric, as seen below.

Fabric selected, then began the cutting. I used the pattern, cutting diagram, and notes from Kelebek's Persian and Turkish Clothes and drafted out onto my lining layer. Because the gomlek worked up so easily, I just used the black cotton liner as my muslin for this garment. As seen below, it fit pretty well from the outset and the notes and diagrams proved helpful in making sure everything lined up right. Gores are my nightmare. Seen below, the garment as it stood had REALLY prominent hip bumps.

We know that prominent hip bumps were part of the fashion just judging from the art and extant garments (including one amusing extant of Hanzade Sultan's zibins with an attached note deriding the poor quality of the hip bumps) but after repeating the pattern onto my outer fabric, they started bothering me. I was pretty sure I had them sitting too low, or some part of the slope wasn't quite right.

Protectorate was fast approaching, and I had little time to make major adjustments and fiddle with a lot of trial and error. I made some quick adjustments, smoothing the slope of the hip bums into more of a 15 degree angle than the 45ish degree angle they were sitting at prior. Around the same time i started fretting about the hip bumps, I realized my box o' saris was AWOL and began to panic. After fruitless hours scouring the house and workshop, no luck. For my own mental health, I put the project aside to handle AFTER Protectorate, but before Coronation. I had a promise to keep, after all.

I returned home from Namron Protectorate and got to work. With my silks still missing, I selected a soft but bright blue polycotton with a nice sheen from stash and made my bias facing.

It wasn't perfect, but time was short and the fabric was bright. You can also see from this photo the adjustments I made to the hip bump. I left the original shape intact, just folded and gently tacked down inside the body so I have the chance to fix it in the future, when I feel more able and comfortable. And so, the handsewing of the Entari began with Coronation just days away. I finished tacking in the lining, which is only attached to the outer shell by the facing, fun fact, and did a quick try on to make sure it all sat the way I wanted. I was very satisfied with the result. In the future, though, I would probably face the sleeves BEFORE I seam down the underside, because that was the only part of the facing truly miserable to line up and attach.

Then came the last minute fastenings. I'd wanted to weave some trim to make proper button / loop pairs down the front, but didn't have the time. Suggestions from my locals mostly relied on me having not yet put the body, facing, and lining together. I made do, dug through my ribbon supply, and grabbed some shiny polysatin 3/8" ribbon I usually use for making ribbon roses. I cut them into 9" lengths, folded in half, lined up with the yellow vertical stripe down the front, tucked the ends under, and tacked them down securely. For the buttons, I used some Vindheim buttons from Bad Baroness. For a last minute closure I literally finished 2 hours before driving down to coronation, not bad if I do say so myself.

On the day of, I added a long, sleeveless undercoat that for sanity's sake, we'll call a zibin. I need to make one of those rather soon, don't I? I received the coat second hand at Mooneschadowe Trade Days in exchange for a monmouth cap, with the encouragement of Viscountess Mama Cat. I wore a small embroidered hot pink hat over a pink-and-rust silk and pashmina scarf that my lovely wife got for me at Pennsic as a gift, with a veil pinned over the top. The veil is actually one of my spare white scarves, my big "floofy" one that gives my siblings in the order scarf envy. I ordered it from the same place I got my green apprentice belt sash, my wife gets cadet scarves, and both of us get a variety of veils. Mama cat helped me make sure everything sat right on the outfit and helped me get the veil just right. The peacock feather pin is from Sonja III's Queen's Champion tournament, the favor she gave to all the competing fighters. I am wearing the handwoven silk scarf I was made in, a twin to my Doña's and her Queen's white scarves, and it has a subtle Ansteorran Star woven into one end. The pin (hidden because the wind was fighting me while we watched the eclipse) is purple and gold (my heraldic colors), a twin to the silver and deep blue pin the Ansteorran Cadets got for HRH's Nicolette's gift, which she used to pin her Queen's White Scarf in place upon her ascension to the throne.

What feels most important to me, though, is this picture. The Order of the White Scarf is charged with protecting the Queen's White Scarf in the interregnum, with the newest white scarf present protecting it personally and the oldest white scarf present taking it from the arm of the Queen stepping down and putting it upon the arm of our new Queen. We pass it through the circle, some of us pressing it to our forehead or hearts, some of us giving it a good squeeze, some of us kissing it. To myself and much of the rapier community of Ansteorra, this is more than a scrap of fabric on a brass hat's arm. This is the memory of what Don Tivar and Countess Tessa of the Gardens did for us so long ago, legitimizing our community and uplifting us. This is the memory of brothers, sisters, and friends come and gone, of Queens who, for a moment or a lifetime, became one of us, became the head of our order. This is the hope of every cadet who dreams of bleaching their scarf, of every fencer who imagines themselves in the shoes of Errol Flynn or Cyrano. A good Queen inspires us to do better, do more, and reach further, and a great Queen makes our Order stronger with just her presence.

None can compare with bright honor rare We go as the swift arrow flies To stand in the strife, to hazard our lives For a glance from Your Majesty’s eyes

There are certainly adjustments I would make if I were to do this again, notbly find my box o' saris and use a silk facing, among others. I would like to make some non-supportive gomleks in a much lighter fabric and some supportive zibins as well. I would prefer in the future to attach the facing BEFORE i sew down the underside of the sleeve so i feel SLIGHTLY less murderous while sewing. And because of how I roll, in the future I would definitely add a pocket or twelve. I intend to replace the ribbon button loops with some woven trim loops, or at the very least add some matching ribbon bars to the button side for a little more visual balance.

This project would not have been possible without the support of Baroness Dominique Michelle le Vasseur and Viscountess Caterina Giovanni, and the inspiration of the lovely and kind Countess Jacquette d'Anjou, whose conversations and costuming at Gulf XXXI finally kicked me into high gear on this.

[lostinfantasyworlds]

Life Update

Heyyyy it’s been a while! I never really expect anyone to notice when I fuck off for long periods of time, but in case you did and happened to be wondering why I was mostly MIA for most of 2023, here's what I've been up to.

The short version: My husband and I sold our first house over the summer and bought our “forever” home! It worked out so much better than I could have hoped, but it turns out that prepping a house to sell and moving = lots of stress and chaos...which caused me to tumble off the deep end mentally for a while afterwards and I’m only just starting to recover.

---

Before I elaborate, I feel like I have to give a disclaimer because the last thing I want is to come across like I'm complaining or ungrateful. I'm very aware of how lucky and privileged I am to be a homeowner, so I am by no means asking for sympathy or trying to act like "buying/selling a house is so stressful, woe is me!" I understand that homeownership is a pipe dream for a lot of people, especially in the current economy, and I don't take that for granted. I'm genuinely grateful that I even have the opportunity to be stressed about something like this, but I can't deny that it was stressful.

If anyone is wondering how I managed to buy a house at all, I'm happy to answer that in a separate post. The abridged version is extremely lucky timing plus countless hours of hard work put into fixing up our first house that we bought for cheap back when the market was way more balanced (2016).

When I talk about the stress of last year, it's almost entirely in regards to my own mental health which is something I've always struggled with. I get overwhelmed VERY easily by regular life, let alone when I go through a major change (no matter how positive it is). Every big transition period in my life has triggered intense anxiety disorders and/or depression for me, so that's the main reason why things felt so difficult.

If you happen to be thinking something along the lines of "shut the fuck up, no one cares you were stressed, you're so privileged to even be able to own a house," ...believe me, I've already said to myself a million times. That is part of why I end up so depressed in the first place, because I feel like I “don’t have the right” when my life is so wonderful. But thanks to therapy I understand more about my mental illnesses and I'm trying to be less hard on myself now.

Still, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea 😅.

---

Anyways! If you want to know more about our house/see some pics, the long version with all of my rambling is below the cut!

The long version:

My husband and I bought our first house in 2016, right after getting married. It was conveniently located right across the street from where we had been living with 4 of our friends (which is how we were able to save enough money to buy a house), but it was in such bad condition that it didn't even meet the FHA minimum property standards so we had to use a special type of mortgage to purchase it. We always meant for it to a long-term flip, planning to live there while renovating it so that we could sell it after a few years and use the profit to buy a house that would be more permanent.

We put so much literal blood sweat and tears into that house. In the beginning we spent every single hour of our spare time fixing up the house. We do all renovation work ourselves because my dad and husband have experience with demolition, electrical, and plumbing. And anything we don't know how to do we just figure out as we go along. The only time we hired a contractor was to replace the roof that had extensive water damage.

(This is the water damage discovered down the whole back of the house a few weeks after we bought it 🙃)

(One before-and-after out of many to avoid making this post absurdly long. The contractors finished the ceiling when they did the roof but otherwise we did all the work on that bathroom ourselves, including moving the shower wall back 6 inches so that the shower door wasn't mounted to the window trim 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Over a few years we worked on remodeling each room until we eventually we got super burnt out, and then the pandemic happened and we both fell into a deep depression. Finally, in 2022 I got myself a therapist and started clawing myself out of the dark place I was in, and at the start of April 2023 we started prepping the house to sell. I had been watching the market steadily increase to absolutely insane levels and knew it was kind of a “now or never” situation, even though I still felt very fragile mentally so I was worried how I would handle such a large undertaking.

I never could have imagined just how amazing it would turn out. We truly couldn't be happier with our new home, it’s pretty much everything we were hoping for and I still can’t believe how lucky we are to have gotten it. I was prepared to have a hard time finding an affordable house. I had heard of all kinds of horror stories and the crazy competition going on in the market was intimidating. I thought we were gearing up for the long haul, and prepared myself for a lot of disappointment. Our house was the first house we put an offer on (the third one we looked at in person) and we somehow got it! It’s insane, I'm so fucking grateful.

The only catch is that it's a lot more of a fixer upper than we had originally planned on buying. I didn’t think that we would ever buy another house that required as much renovation as our first one did, because that shit was intense and we are now in our 30s and very tired 😂. But our new house has so many features that were on our “would-love-to-have-but-probably-won't-find-in-this-economy” list like laundry upstairs and an attached garage (also a pond??!?! We have a fucking pond and I love it so so much🥹). So we knew we could turn it into a home we’d love spending our lives in if we put in the work. Plus it was actually well below our budget (probably because of the condition it was in).

We decided to offer what we were willing to pay, which was well above asking but we still didn't think we'd have a chance because the market is so competitive. I don’t know if our real estate agent just worked some magic (she was amazing), but we were genuinely stunned when she told us we got the house.

(Our beautiful pond🥹 🥰)

After that, things moved SO fast. The timing made it overlap with the prepping/listing of our first home, which was really stressful to juggle all at once on top of our full time jobs. I thought selling was going to be the easy part since the market is so skewed towards sellers right now. And it did go amazingly well once we listed (64 showings and 12 offers in one weekend, fucking nuts?!?!!), but the months leading up to listing the house were CRAZY. I knew it would be a lot of work to prep the house since we had a bunch of unfinished projects, 4 open permits with the town that we needed to get closed, and had accumulated so much shit over the years, but I definitely underestimated how intense it would be, especially with the overlap of buying our new house. I had used up all of my PTO for the year by June in order to deal with house things and felt like I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I pushed myself way past my limits and knew I would pay for it eventually.

But we made it through the chaos and officially moved in July. Let me just say that I hope I never have to move again😵‍💫. It was 90+ degrees (F), 95% + humidity that weekend, and then POURING rain on the day of the move🙃. But other than that, everything went pretty smoothly! After a couple weeks of getting settled and sleeping in the living room, we started on the renovations in early August.

(Before and after of our living room that we are using as a hobby room for D&D, music, art, etc I love it so much!)

(Before and after of the downstairs bedroom which we use as our office)

We remodeled two whole rooms in about 6 weeks, which was wayy too much. We had been going nonstop since April and by the time we got to October, I hit a wall. Because my mental health was incredibly fragile to begin with, surprise surprise I ended up stuck in another bout of horrific burnout-fueled depression for a solid 2+ months after we finally paused to take a break. I've struggled with my mental health since I was a teenager, having periods of depression, panic disorder, and GAD on and off. Also over the past year, I’ve started to suspect that I may have undiagnosed ADHD so there's a lot going on with my brain. I've always been a very sensitive person, and my mental health is the first thing to suffer if I don't take care of myself.

I started feeling a bit better in December, but then things got crazy again with work and the holidays, so I ended up back in burnout land yet again. Now I think I'm finally starting to truly recover as I enter the slow season at work. We are easing back into renovations but I've been trying to take it as easy on myself as possible to avoid falling back into that dark place, which is why you haven't seen much of me on tumblr. It bums me out, and I often feel frustrated with my own limitations when I see everyone posting and chatting and creating and I want so badly to join in, but I sadly just haven't had it in me for a long time. But I'm still lurking and forever obsessed with InuKag and hope to be recovered enough to participate in fandom stuff more soon!

I've still been writing and drawing here and there whenever I get a bit of inspiration. I actually just finished an Inuyasha redraw that I'll be posting soon! I've also been writing a lot more recently, or at least thinking a lot about my WIPs😂. The main one I've been working on is If It Kills Me, which I am dying to share with you all. But it's a mystery/thriller/actiony type of story with plot points that still need to be figured out, so once those pieces fall into place I will hopefully be able to wrap it up. I'm going to be working on it a lot in February, so we'll see what happens.

I would love to share my other main WIP The First and Last this summer (since it's a summer-based story), but we'll see how things go. The next major renovation project is the kitchen 😵‍💫, so fandom things might have to sadly take a backseat again during that. But I'll still be lurking here and missing you all! ❤️

[seedlessmuffins]

there’s something so important, about that win yesterday. not only did we beat a team that has stanley cup aspirations, which has two of the best players in the world on their team (which we shut down), overall it was a stunning performance from every single player on the ice. from jt miller’s five points, to boeser’s four goals, to demko’s .955 save percentage with the flu to the introduction of hughes as the captain in a stunning fashion, across the board it was a great night not only for the team, but for the fans 

(full tactico thoughts below the cut)

what we saw last night was a full team effort, not just the top 6 forwards and top 2 defensive pairings clicking. everyone across the line up was pulling their weight and clicking into place last night. because of injuries, illness, and our salary cap situation, we ended up playing with a player less, and with 11 forwards and 6 defensemen. this meant that the bottom 3 wingers especially needed to play more then they usually would, against the tough opponent of the most complete oilers team they have ever iced since they drafted mcdavid. and the bottom five did exceptionally well in the positions they put themselves in!! 

lafferty, for being a new acquisition, knew exactly what he was doing. he positioned himself well, especially during the pk, right near the goal and was always in a good place to either pass or get the puck within shooting range of the net. he is such a smart player, drawing that penalty in the third is absolute genius and he just knows where to move within his line and how to create a good pass. i think hoglander worked well with him, as he made some nice little plays especially behind the edmonton net during one of the power plays (i think in the third period?) to keep possession of the puck. i was glad to see him make the roster, i think he’s a smart player and a solid person to have on the 4th line. 

i adored joshua’s game, honestly he was one of the standouts of the night for me. he was willing to use his body, not only to block shots on the pk but also to drop the gloves less than 5 minutes into the game, but he was also able to position himself well to be in scoring positions and it paid off as he scored the 8th and final goal for the canucks. joshua is one of my favourite players, and i hope he continues doing well this season both with his physicality and his scoring, he is nothing but an asset and really is a necessary staple of our third line at this point. 

the hirose/juulsen pairing did well when they were on the ice, nothing notable, however the cole/meyers pairing was incredible. very physical, both in hits and blocking shots, able to get back quickly and had some nice puck distributions, and other then meyer’s stupid penalty in the first period, they were great. ian cole is an amazing addition to the team and i can’t wait to see what more he will do, especially on the pk, he was excellent and i can’t wait to see more. 

the “pbj” line of di guiseppe, boeser, and miller was incredible and so productive. near the net all night, lighting the lamp, excellent puck possession and was able to fight the hard battles in the corners. of course boeser’s 4 goals deserve to be celebrated, they were incredible (especially the first goal? sexy, sexy hockey), but di guiseppe and miller’s passes made it possible for boeser to finish the passes with incredible accuracy. these guys also did great work on the pp, they made up an excellent second unit to keep the pressure in the edmonton zone without the stars on the ice, and i think boeser got his groove back. lets see 30+ goals this season.

tocchet really loaded up the top line and the top d pairing, with hughes/hronek and garland/pettersson/kuzmenko as the top lines. i thought both lines did an excellent job not only creating chances, but also shutting down the mcdrai line when they were both out at the same time. petey had some stunning, sexy passes (i’m still thinking about his first pass to garland for the first goal,,,, holy shit that was sexy) and garland was able to hold his weight and finish the chances he was given practically on a platter. kuzya had a quiet night, but he made some productive moves to keep possession and he was able to keep the puck in the offensive zone during pp time so i’m not mad at how he played, i know he will only improve from here. hughes/hronek were exceptionally productive, both in passing and in blocking shots, and they had mcdavid shut down all night. the oilers not registering a single high danger scoring chance AT ALL at 5v5 with petey on the ice?? yeah that’s my selke candidate right there

and demko, how can i forget about thatcher demko? he made save after save, and the dmen gave him space to do so every time. he had a clear line of vision, and he used it. he made some incredible saves and came away with a save percentage that reflected that, all while having the flu! shoutout to desmith, though he only was in for 10 minutes he made some strong saves and didn’t look as nervous between the pipes as he did during the preseason. i’m glad he settled in nicely.

overall, we worked very well as a team. special teams were cooking, goalies were cooking, everything looked cohesive. there were some big hits, from joshua, meyers, and petey notably, and some good blocks. other then the first 5 minutes of the first period, and some sloppy passing in the middle, it was a strong, dominant game. we choked the life out of the oilers, even getting noted most boring man in the nhl to make salty comments about our decisions. i'm most proud of how we handled ourselves in the third, as edmonton were losing their heads with sloppy hits and stupid penalties, we kept ourselves together.

we fucking won. it was a great game. i'm so excited for this season. see you on saturday in edmonton.

[jichanqz]

CARREFOUR • ERIC SOHN

PART 1

PAIRINGS tbz eric x f!oc

WORD COUNT 2.6k+

GENRE fantasy, mythical creature!au, angst, romance, slow burn

which is better, or which is worse? having no power among those who do or having your power used against you?

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Most of his time is spent alone in his study, sitting at the intricately carved wooden table, poring over books after books. His eyes dart among lines, between each words and every pages as his hand moves swiftly across the paper, jotting down every single information obtained.

He drowns himself in the waves of books, too deep to notice the perpetual knock on the door. He finally raises his head at the sound of the door creaking open, slightly adjusting the position of his reading glasses that had slid down his nose bridge. "My highest apologies for barging in like this, Your Royal Highness. You were not answering, I was afraid that something might've happened to you."

He waves his hand at the sight of the maid gravely bowing in front of him. "No, there's no need to apologise. Am I needed for anything?" He takes off his glasses and pays full attention to the servant. "It's already time for dinner. The King and Queen are already waiting for you at the dining table.

His eyes scamper to the old, grandfather clock at the corner of his study. He slams his back against the leather chair as he catches sight of the time, burying his face in his hands. A heavy, disgruntled sigh leaves his mouth. He always lose track of time the moment he's indulged in his books.

He then straightens his posture again. "Thank you for reminding me. You may go." His signature smile is returned with a bow from the maid before she disappears behind the door, leaving him all alone again, alone among the piles of books.

Never once he leaves the room untidy, every book is ensured to be arranged at their original place back. He closes the robust door behind him, making his way across the long, dim hallway to the dining hall. Midway through, he stops in his track, his eyes are locked on the massive aged painting hanged on the wall. He scanned every corner of the artwork with cloudy, uninterpreted eyes.

I am almost there.

His eyes are shaky, jaw clenched tight before he drags his feet away from the massive frame, proceeding to the royal dining hall.

He is greeted by a line of elves servants loyally standing at the side of the dining hall, profoundly bowing as he enters the room. The King and Queen are already there, sitting at both ends of the small dining table, facing each other. "My apologies for keeping both of you waiting." His apology receives a nod from both of his parents. He takes a seat right in the middle, and the hall falls silent again, lacking any voice or whisper.

"Eric." His father starts, breaking the excruciating silence. The cheerful fire burning in the hearth at the side of the hall is not enough to chase away the coldness biting at his bone, not able to tame the churning nervous feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Eric had prepared himself mentally to hear the next words coming from his father's mouth. He had long expected that this moment will finally come. Still, he is not yet ready to face it. Will he actually be ready? He himself has no clue.

"The full moon is in less than a week. I hope you are ready." Eric heaves a hefty sigh he doesn't even realise holding as his father finishes his sentence. His parents' silent stare, waiting for his answer is pinning him in his seat, very discomfited to even shift in the seating.

Eric clears his dry throat, flashing a fake confident countenance along with that signature smile of his, before locking eyes with the King and Queen. "I was born ready." Fake it till you make it they said.

The full moon. The moment when magical powers have no limit. Where the energy of the creatures will not be consumed every time they use their power during that period of time.

"Good. I wont be fully convinced that you are actually ready to take the throne until then." Eric gulps the lump in his throat for the umpteenth time.

The throne. Being the only heir is not promising enough that the sovereignty will fall into his grasp that easily. Owing to that, he has been doing everything to stay on his parents good side, obeying every order that is placed on his shoulder. But this very next dictate that is about to be carried out is contravening Eric's morality.

"Eat up, my son." The three of them start eating as the King picks up his cutlery. Again, the room is filled with silence, not even the sound of cutlery clinking can be heard. The still atmosphere is very different with what's going on in Eric's mind; busy and industrious, sorting up each and every thought flooding in.

"And one more thing, Eric." His father adds, his eyes remain glued to the dish. "The blonde root of your hair started showing. Be sure to dye it before you leave this palace." His hair, the most recognisable dissimilarity that makes him stand out among his people, an abomination to his parents.

He never feels disheartened by his unique feature, but he rather appreciate it. He never understands why his parents dislike his hair that much, yet he never questioned anything and just followed his father's demand. "Yes, father." Eric replies rather curtly.

Suddenly, the Queen clacks her wine glass to the table in an exaggerated manner, an action that the servants are keenly aware of its meaning. Before the servants could dash to the dining table to serve the Queen, Eric grabs the tall wine bottle, stopping the servants in their tracks.

"Eric." The Queen utters rather sternly, her eyes piercing through Eric's. The son simply flashes a smile to their servants before pouring the wine into the glass himself. "Here you go mother." The glass is placed in front of the Queen with much delicacy.

"We hired workers in this residence for a reason, Eric Sohn." Hearing the Queen's words, the elves servants keep their mouth shut, heads hanging low.

"Having workers doesn't necessarily mean that we should just sit back and do nothing, mother." Things are always like this and Eric is extremely sick of it.

Growing up, he has encountered tremendous amount of discrimination towards the elves, done by the people of his bloodline; the so-called fairies. He learned that the messed up relationship between both community had rooted since a very long time ago. He was told that the feud was caused by the elves, but nobody wants to expatiate on the matter every time he brought the issue up.

Everybody seemed to be restraining themselves from talking about that incident, and Eric had discerned that there is so much more attributing to the incident. There is definitely an untold veracity that people are desperately trying to keep buried in the pit of their stomach.

He never once agrees with all of the enmity. He believes that antagonism is a choice, a choice made by the impermanents when they can legibly opt for peace. He has long desired on changing the gruesome history between fairies and elves, and create peace among every creatures, which is the reason on why he is yearning to taking the throne.

"Well, at least this excessive kindness of yours will help you on your mission, deceiving and getting along with that elf community." Eric's mouth feels raw at his mother's remark regarding the dictate. Deceiving. No, he is not deceiving anybody. His parents order is indeed merciless, but he had no choice, this is the only path that is leading him to the royal seat, the only path that he has to end the feud between both tribes.

But he is not taking his parents' order mindlessly. He is not walking into the mission with bare hands. He had came up with a plan. Nights had been spent poring over books, absorbing every single knowledge on ensuring that no harm is coming to both tribes. And what's left is for him to execute the plan very carefully.

Brown leaves are decorating the ground, crunching as you drag your feet above them, making your way from house to house. The sky's light purple, tint of orange starts to fade as the ball of rays rises higher over the horizon. The clouds are vague, yet the sparkle is evident and discernible, spreading here and there across the vast empyrean.

A rattan basket in your left hand, while your other hand knocks at the wooden door of a beautiful, small cottage in the middle of the village. You hum along to the melody of nature as you wait for the door to be opened, taking in the well-nurtured house compound around you.

Judging by how the variety of flowers in the pots surrounding the house blooms beautifully and how the green axonopus covering the ground is well trimmed, one wouldn't expect that the owner of this house is an old, retired soldier. A werewolf to be exact.

The teak door behind you creaks open, revealing a face that is way too familiar to you. He flashes the brightest smile, one that is contagious. The crinkles around his eyes become even more visible as his lips grow wider. The sign of ageing that gets even more seeable as the days go by never outshine the calmness held by that facade.

"Aletheia." He is one of the few people who calls you by your full name, which never fails to trigger a certain spot in your heart. They remind you of the exquisite meaning behind that eight letters that define your identity and individuality.

He opens the door fully, revealing his neat interiors and his trig outfit. He never fails to appear highly presentable. He is donning a brown, wool crew neck sweater layered over a button-down plain, white shirt, matched with a cotton trousers in light khaki.

"I am expecting you in your shape-shifted body when I see you today, Uncle Elex." Your response receives a neverending smile from him.

"Shape-shifting requires a big amount of energy, Aletheia. And I am getting weaker day by day. I am afraid that I will not be able to enjoy the warm sun rays the next day if I do shape-shift. Plus, kids being scared with this old, grumpy werewolf is the last thing that I wanted." The words leave his mouth slow and steady, unwavering.

"You do know grumpy is the most unbefitting word to describe yourself, Uncle Elex." You rummage through the basket in hand, grabbing a small sac made of rough linen and a glass vial. "Here's the herbs that you requested, Uncle Elex. A sac of dried ginkgo and a vial of grapeseed extract." Taking the items from your hand, he proceeds to put them aside on a cabinet located near his door frame without checking what's on the inside.

"How much does it costs, Aletheia?" He is a regular at the apothecary which you work at. Yet he always asks for the price every time he purchases something, not that you are complaining, though. Just to be sure, that's what he always said.

"It's the usual, Uncle Elex. 20 Copper Pēidtts." He rummages through his woven pouch and hands you a piece of Silver Pēidtts.

"You always pay more, Uncle Elex. I'll feel bad if I let you do that again this time." You hand him 5 pieces of copper, only to receive that usual smile from him. "No, Aletheia. Just keep it for yourself, I insist." When it comes to Uncle Elex, you know that he'll stick to his words, and nothing can change him.

"Have you succeed? Have you found your power, Aletheia?"

You pull up the usual smile you always wear every time you got that question. In the world that you live in, every creature was born with a power. Every creature except for you. Some of them have the healing ability, while others can defy the law of space, teleporting from one place to another. Well, that doesn't sound quite right. In this world, there's no law.

Everyone can do extraordinary things, you name it. Except for you. You are just ordinary. The ordinary among the extraordinary.

Your condition has forced you to work harder than anyone else. You need to struggle to get something done that others can settle by just snapping their fingers. You have been working real hard, toiling to survive and to prove that you fit in this society. You have been putting your every efforts in proving that you are just the same as the others. You have been grubbing away, trying to regain your 'lost' power back. But until this very day, you are powerless still.

"No, Uncle Elex. I am still the same Aletheia. The ordinary Aletheia." You inhale deeply, taking in every hope suspending in the air.

Uncle Elex walks out of the door to his front yard. "Look at this bunch, Aletheia." He gestures to a bunch of colourful flower planted on the ground. "Do you know what they are?"

You are an expert when it comes to something related to herbs and wild plants, thanks to the years of experience gained from working at the apothecary. But when it comes to flowers, you don't know as much as Uncle Elex. You shake your head, having absolutely no clue.

"This flower is called gladiolus. Do you have an idea on what these flowers represent?" Looking at how clueless you are, Uncle Elex continues. "The gladiolus is very much like you, Aletheia."

"Very much like me? What do you mean, Uncle Elex?" You are utterly perplexed. His calm smile remains on his façade as he continues. "What does the name of this flower remind you to, Aletheia?" You never lied to the middle-aged man before you, and you don’t intend on starting it now so you just shake your head.

"Gladiator, Aletheia. People commonly recognise the glads by their strikingly tall stalks and large, abundant, spiky blooms, which looks almost like a sword, the weaponry in which is used in gladiator fights." Something about Uncle Elex lights up when he speaks about flowers, which is something he likes. But your confusion is still ravelled.

"How is that related to me, Uncle Elex?"

"The spikiness of this sword-like flower was meant to pierce the heart of its recipient with love, Aletheia. A little romantic, yet a little violent. What I am trying to say is that your burning passion and desire on searching for your power is what makes you who you are today.

It is very admirable, Aletheia. Your personality is never not able to pierce the heart of people around you. Yet, it can also be very destructive, violent, to you, and towards people around you."

"The tall, strong stem symbolises the strength of a character. Strength, the biggest trait in which I found ignited in you, Aletheia. Keep the fire ignited, but forget not that the flame can be ruinous if it is getting out of hand." Uncle Elex looks at me in the eyes as he finishes his word.

People said that eyes are the gateway to one's heart, but you definitely are not able to tell what Uncle Elex is feeling or even thinking right now. His grey eyes hold something that you cant decipher, a look that is very calm, yet very turbulent at the same time.

Romantic and violent.

You had probably uttered that out loud, you can’t tell.

"You don't need to put way too much thought on what I just told you, Aletheia. Just continue your journey with faithfulness and sincerity, and you'll be able to construe and arrange your thoughts as you carry on along the way."

please consider reblogging, thank you ♡

NEXT PART | MASTERLIST

[veebs-hates-video-games]

I keep threatening to say something about Xenoblade Chronicles 3, but it keeps not happening. I either can't figure out what I want to write or am unable to actually write it, like I'll have an idea and then sit up, but that'll make my head get weird and make me give up on it for the rest of the day. Again.

I think I finally figured out what I want to talk about though, and if I can make it through 265 hours of the game itself (plus another 35 on Future Redeemed, the standalone DLC story) I can probably handle writing a single post about it, even if it takes me a few tries across several months and turns into kind of a retrospective on the entire series.

As a brief intro for context, in the summer of 2022 when the game came out my health had reached a new low point, even compared to the already not great lows it's been at other times in my life, and XC3 is honestly probably one of the reasons I'm still here now. And I don't just mean on Tumblr.

Ok, maybe that's a little too brief. I have a weird and wacky combination of physical/psych/neuro things that have been going on for years, but up until 2020 they were only partially disabling and left me moderately functional and still fairly happy, and they seemed to be improving for a change. Since that summer they've all been gradually going downhill though, and I've at least for the time being ended up basically completely disabled and unable to do a lot of basic things in my life, and I haven't been having a great time with it.

It doesn't help that I've gotten the absolute bare minimum support for a lot of it (or sometimes even less than that) because most of my doctors retired or moved or changed jobs in the past couple years, and along with it taking forever to get set up with new ones a lot of the new ones have been extremely reluctant to actually address any of my needs. It's super cool to not only get next to zero help with any of the new problems that came up but also not be able to get prescriptions for any of my psych meds and be effectively forcibly detransitioned. That's starting to slowly turn around now, but only barely.

Anyway, by the beginning of the summer of 2022 I was at the point where I was having periods where I was having trouble forming coherent sentences some of the time, and while my brain generating gibberish like "aspirational truth-pissing" or "post-kneecap society" is very funny (to me at least), it's not super useful. I'd become pretty isolated, a lot of friendships and relationships had become pretty distant for various reasons, and I'd had to move back in with the one person who actually abused me (which is pretty far in the past but still pretty uncomfortable).

Basically my life had next to nothing going for it at that point, not much was showing any signs of improving, and it was pretty hard to find anything to look forward to.

(ok so maybe that ended up being not so brief because I don't talk about all that stuff much and apparently I have a lot of feelings about it)

Good news, though! There's a new game coming out in my favorite series!

I have a long and complicated relationship with the Xeno games. I first played Xenogears before Xenosaga was even out, but I never finished it because some of the jankiness frustrated me (and I'm replaying it now and those things about it have aged really poorly, but it's still plenty interesting otherwise). And then I never really played Xenosaga myself (although it's probably next in line after I eventually finish Xenogears) because I never had a PS2, but I had friends who were super into it that I absorbed everything from.

And then by the time the first Xenoblade came out my Wii had already died. A couple years later I had a computer that could emulate it though, so I played it in Dolphin with the HD texture mod...until about halfway through the game, when my CPU caught on fire. A friend gave me a free replacement, but it was slower and didn't run stuff like that nearly as well, so I held off on finishing it until 2020 when I finally could afford new computer stuff (mostly because I had to spend some of my SSI backpay because you're only allowed to have at most $2000 in your bank account at any given time because this country hates disabled people).

And of course it was great.

And then I grabbed the Switch version so I could play Future Connected, which was also great, and then quickly moved on to Xenoblade Chronicles 2 after that...and then stopped playing that one for several months because Tora really grated on me. I think "blushy-crushy" is the point I gave up at. Thankfully I went back to it a bit later, because aside from that and some of the overly horny character designs it's pretty great overall, and Torna completely recontextualizes so much stuff and makes the base game even better.

I even played some of X, and I would've finished it too if my save hadn't gotten corrupted. Maybe some day I'll figure out how to use a memory editor or something to fix it, because it seems almost fine, and I don't really want to replay 70 hours of it...

So I was understandably pretty excited by the surprise announcement in early 2022 of the third game and then its release date getting pushed up even sooner, and even though my life had imploded further by that summer, some of that feeling carried through.

And you know what? Xenoblade Chronicles 3: also great. I know, big surprise. It looks great and the music's great and the actual gameplay is great (and much better explained than in the previous game), and all of that is great and has already been said by a million other people.

And they've also all had plenty to say about how the characters and their interactions and development are great, generally handled even better than in any of the previous games, and how the side quests are mostly great and actually advance character growth and world building, unlike a lot of them in the first game.

And then also lots of people have had lots to say about their mixed feelings about the story itself and its ending, which some people didn't like for what it didn't answer but which I personally did for the things it did focus on and the general vibes, and then there's been plenty of wild speculation on the implications of Future Redeemed too.

But it wasn't until I finished Future Redeemed and sat on it for a while that I think I figured out what I have to say.

I think what hit me the most about it is the way it expands on the base game and rest of the series, not in the literal narrative way that I've seen most people talking about (although that's definitely fun too) but more in terms of how it made me think about the third game and the series as a whole thematically.

By giving more context and more info about the motivations for the different sides of the conflict (and also introducing another side) it got me thinking about how the entire series can be looked at as how we (or anyone) approach the future, and it doesn't really frame any of the possible ways of doing that as inherently correct and unquestionable.

The central conflicts of each of the games are all about who gets to decide what the future will be and which people and ideas from the past/present should be brought into that future. The settings and situations they find themselves having to make those decisions in are also all the result of previous people's decisions and what was inherited from the past.

Is the future predetermined, or do/should people have free will to make their own choices? Should those choices be individual or collective or by a single central entity? If the outcomes of those decisions turn out to be flawed should they keep pursuing it and stick to the original vision or should it be replaced by something else? If there's been so much pain and suffering and loss in the past, is a future even desirable? Which existing things should be preserved, or should we just start over entirely?

And generally there's more than one answer presented for each of those questions, and often there's even more than one different way of approaching the same answer shown, e.g. you can have no future by preserving the present indefinitely so nothing changes and nothing is lost, or you can just delete fucking everything.

Even answers to those questions that are implicitly endorsed in one game by being associated with the protagonists of its story may turn out later to have more nuance to them. Ok, predestination and fate suck and we should all have free will to make our own choices. But now what if people use that free will to choose things based on fear and anxiety that ultimately restrict other people's free will and choices?

There's no simple answer, no one correct solution, and it takes continued hard work to push the world forward towards a better place. Even when people don't know or even can't know what led the world to the state it's in and all they know is that the way it is is cruel and unfair, they have the ability to come to their own conclusions about the answers of those questions and can work together with like-minded people they find to try to change the world to make it more like what they envision.

And that's real and how things work in reality too. We inherited the world in the state it's in from the people before us, who made their own decisions about those things. Sometimes it was genuinely what they thought would be best for everyone, sometimes it was lashing out because they'd been hurt, sometimes it was someone who didn't care about anyone but themself. But no matter what the reasons, it ultimately is the way it is, and we have to take that and do with it what we will.

Only we, the people who are here right now, can decide what the future will be. Only we can use the power of friendship to kill god. Or heck, you spend half the game in XC3 literally building mutual aid networks. That seems like a pretty reasonable place to start.

[lycorid]

Wow, a yuri with adult characters! And they’re both 35!

Years ago, when I spent a lot more of my free time reading manga, I would often come across a scanlator group called the Sexy Akiba Detectives. Their name came to stick in my mind because of how often I saw it in their custom credits, accompanied by whatever comments they had about the chapter. I learned from reading those notes that they were a yuri focused group that occasionally did other genres as commissions. Years later, tonight actually, their name popped up in my mind and I went and looked through the list of manga they’ve scanlated, looking for something to read. This manga stood out to me, so I gave it a shot.

I read the available chapters Mangadex has, then I went looking for the rest; the next site I found only had up to chapter 30, so I’ll have to find another. All in all, I’m really enjoying it. I don’t agree with the last line of the description calling the characters “some awful human beings” however, as I feel like it just glazes over why the characters act the way they do and how the people around them influence it to instead just boil it down to them being “terrible people.” I haven’t finished the manga yet though so maybe the two main characters become serial killers or something.

The big plot twist is revealed chapter one and acts as the catalyst for everything else, so I don’t feel a particular need to add a spoiler, but some people do care so as always; thar be spoilers below.

I haven’t quite had time to sort my feelings about this manga into more coherent thoughts, so a lot of this will be just me rambling. A lot of this manga is more feelings for me anyway, so it isn’t that off anyway.

The way homophobia is presented in this feels very refreshing, though it feels odd to put it that way. Relatable may be a less… inciting word. It isn’t loud and violent, it isn’t in hushed whispers, it’s subtle; it’s baked into the words and actions of the characters in a way that feels natural. It’s a hidden poison.

Fairly early in the manga, Ayano comes out to her husband, and later his family, that she had an affair with another woman. These are the panels that stuck out to me specifically.

I cropped out parts that weren’t relevant to my point. I do wonder if I’m looking too far into it, and the mother is just reacting that way not because she kissed a woman, but because kissing was as far as it went.

This is the kind I’m use to seeing and experiencing, the kind that even well-meaning or seemingly decent people display. They don’t even notice it. Violence is in your face, you have to at least pretend to disavow it. But this is so baked into people’s beliefs that questioning it would have everyone in the room look at you like you’re crazy. If you put homosexual and heterosexual relationships on a scale, the former would have no chance of touching the ground.

This kind of language exists when you see lesbianism as a transitional period or a phase in a woman’s life. You can play around while you’re in school, but once you graduate then marrying a man and having his children is where you will always end up.

Ayano as a character is also really interesting to me. She is a great example of a passive character; she constantly moves forward in life without any real will or want, at least until she meets Akari. She married her husband because she thought he’d be an okay person to marry, she agreed to wanting children but left it to something that will come when it’s time; more and more, it becomes apparent that she doesn’t want these things because now that shes taken something for herself, she can’t stop. She admits almost immediately to her husband that she had an affair, shes completely open about it to his family, like she wants them to push her away, to initiate everything, because she can’t do it herself. She makes no attempt to hide her feelings and openly admits to him that shes texting the woman she had an affair with. She wants to want, to take, to not be passive, but she doesn’t know how and still needs someone else to give her the push.

It feels a little unfair to write so little about this manga in comparison to Tomorrow, I Will Be Somebody’s Girlfriend when I have comparable feelings to both, but the latter is so much easier to write about because there’s so much going on, so many characters (and it’s longer!) while the former is more of a nebulous feeling in my chest that brings hazy memories of my own to mind.

[chorusfm]

The Eyebrows

Recently I was able to catch up with Charlotte, North Carolina-based power pop band, The Eyebrows, to discuss their latest album called Double Take. The Eyebrows are singer-songwriter, producer, guitarist, and multi-instrumentalist Jay Garrigan, bassist and vocalist Darrin Gray, and drummer and multi-instrumentalist Shawn Lynch. In this interview, I asked the band about what went into the writing/recording process for Double Take, how they approach building out their setlists for tours, and much more. Double Take released on April 19th, and there are still a few physical options of the record at the band’s store here. Where did the album title of Double Take come from? What���s the significance of the title as it relates to these songs? On one hand, I feel that my life is the definition of a double take, which is a surprised, second look at a person or situation whose significance had not been completely grasped at first. I’ve often asked myself why this is. The title Double Take also describes the dual nature of our latest album, a direct result of an innovative approach to recording that Mitch Easter inspired. This album features each song in two distinct versions: one polished and produced by Mitch in the studio, capturing the rocktastic essence of our sound only in the way someone as talented and artistic as Mitch can, and another raw, vibrant version that I recorded & mixed myself in our practice space, echoing the mid-fi and lo-fi aesthetics of bands like early REM, GBV, and Suicide that I deeply admire. This approach not only showcases our versatility as an imaginative studio and visceral, live band, but also challenges listeners to reconsider our music through different sonic perspectives & palettes, highlighting how varied production styles can alter the perception of the same song. How did the process of recording this LP with Mitch Easter go? Any vivid memories from the studio sessions? As far as memories go, we were absolutely buzzing as The Baseball Project just finished tracking and mixing their latest album with Mitch right before we started to track our album. To be literally standing right where our heroes Peter Buck, Mike Mills, Scott McCaughey, Steve Wynn and Linda Pitmon were was awe-inspiring, and we hoped to catch a ride on a glimmer of their musical mojo. REM was very formative upon younger versions of myself and drummist Shawn Lynch. In the early 90s, Mike Mills once said he wanted to put his two cents into anything I do, and I stupidly lost his phone number. Maybe he will do a double take at some future time, haha. Also in this session, we got to use some really interesting gear, such as running a mix buss through a 60s EMI console – much like a console The Beatles would have used during the 60s. I believe Kurt Vile bought this console from Mitch recently. I know for a fact we were the last band to record on Mitch’s legendary main console before he let it go—a console that was used to mix the soundtrack of The NeverEnding Story. Reflecting on Double Take, where each song undergoes its own transformation across two sides, it feels apt to echo a line from the movie: ‘Nothing is lost…Everything is transformed.’ (shivers!) Recording with Mitch Easter at his studio is always a great time, and having detailed musical conversations comes naturally within the walls of the Fidelitorium. We can talk about things like… what kind of mic, amp, and reverb is needed to give this Hohner Pianet a period-specific, 60s sound? I love the energy of your band’s performance on the music video for “Say Yeah!”. Where was this video shot at, and how pleased are you with the final product? “Say Yeah!” was shot in the raw veins of our beloved Charlotte, NC in my backyard, a place as battered and beautiful as the tune itself. We filmed it right next to a very toxic, chemical-laden creek right across from – what I can only call – the apartment-ization and gentrification of my neighborhood and city. When we first moved here, we were surrounded by woods in… https://chorus.fm/features/interviews/the-eyebrows/

[mubal4]

RFP Podcast Episode #279 – Ultra Dad Session #87: “Will to prepare?”

 As I am wrapping up Thinking for a Change by John C. Maxwell, I came across another couple parts that I am compelled to share. I guess these last few episodes have become a book review 😊. No worries, I believe all these lessons are great to pass along to see if and where they may resonate.

 This particular section is a quote by Thane Yost:

 “The will to win is worthless if you do not have the will to prepare.”

 I read this and my mind went to ultra-trail marathon’s/running and training - or “preparing” for them. Having the “will to prepare” for a race I don’t think had ever entered my mind. It was just the thing I felt I must do if I wanted to complete an ultramarathon. Having the “will” to train wasn’t a concept for me, I just ran. However, in a race, I’ve felt and thought about that will to continue, to keep moving forward, like life! There is something, that why, passion, purpose – however we want to classify it, that keeps us moving forward, no matter how much pain we may be in or how much hardship we are facing, there is that will. But the will to prepare/train? Not a feeling – conscientiously at least. Yes, during training periods, or preparing for a life mission, we deal with the same struggles and pain caves that surface in an ultramarathon. Yes, there are days we don’t want to get up and do the things we must do and honor our commitments. But we do – there is that will to prepare. For me however, it is the race – that why I guess, rather than a will – is it the same thing???

 The RFP Ultra Dad’s Podcast is sponsored by Time on the Trails – delivering you a customized experience out on the trails in Arizona and beyond.  Please visit us at www.tottaz.com and on social media via IG, FB, TW & LI.

 Keep an eye on the Ultra Dad’s Instagram account @ #ultra_dads.

 You can view the live recording of today’s episode on our YouTube Channel Here!

 Listen on Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/relentless-forward-progress-with-mike-ubaldini/id1305969863?i=1000607921551

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: RFP Podcast Episode #279 – Ultra Dad Session #87: “Will to Prepare!”    

 How’d we get here?

 The Ultra Dad’s Podcast came from an idea Cindy Shane created.  Well, she planted the idea in our head after listening to the first time Bryan was on the RFP Podcast in May 2020.  There have many times over the years when we speak on the phone or in person the “we should be recording this” line comes out.  Well, here we are jumping in with both feet, like we tend to do, sharing with you our perspectives on life.  Let’s be candid – we are not perfect, and we fail often. Our favorite term to use is “it’s not ideal” and there have been countless times we’ve uttered, “a plan is great until you are punched in the face;” – but we do laugh a lot, at ourselves and/or each other mostly 😊.  All that said, there are those brief moments where things tend to fall into place and we, somehow, make it to that finish line – as ultrarunners yes, but most importantly has husbands, fathers, friends, and human beings.  We wanted to share those imperfections and those incredible moments that we’ve been fortunate enough to experience together over the last 30+ years.  So, sit back, grab a cold one, and hopefully this will be another time where things fall into place.

 -��       Bryan & Mike

[delusionalinsecurewreckpiningphd]

the first one is a statement i keep hearing my boss and people five, ten years my age telling me about my juniors and interns. as much as i hate to agree with them, i do see where both are coming from.

those people from the older generation grew up in a time that "making it" was literally a matter of luck and effort. Just the fact that there is no Internet, and "printing documents" was a legit job description means they didn't have access to the vast amount of network, tips, advices, examples of success, etc. that they can use to make it in their career, to move upward socially. It was often for them a matter of getting involved with the right circle that can elevate them up, and the only way for them to do so is by their own effort. Going to events, putting themselves out there, and statistically speaking, the more they did so, the more likely they would meet the right circumstances that promoted them into a higher salary or recommended a career path that they could excel at. And in that process, they understood that it was their responsibilities. They saw that their efforts were rewarded. And so they thought "my income = what effort i put invested in".

The last 20 years fucked up this system. The internet equalizes this but also tells us that yes, even if we might be able to make it comparatively within our own circle, there are other assholes out there that cheats. It's so hard to keep your grit when you see that "cheating" is far more rewarding. Being born into the right family, whether they're caring and supportive, or just sufficiently wealthy. Being surrounded by a supportive environment. Living in a city or a country where there are laws designed for you or at least leaving you untouched. It's privilege. But also, financial insecurity, ecoanxiety, the general consciousness of no matter how hard you try, a random fuck could attack you and screw your day, if not life. Younger generations generally starts to see that there are so much not being in our individual control anymore. So when it comes down to the workplace, "younger generation doesn't feel responsible for their own task anymore" because yeah, why would they, if it doesn't work out for them?

And it genuinely sucks that the whole "owning up your thing", while can be a good life lesson in general, are being used as a critique against the younger folks. A lot of my mentors think of their jobs not as an exchange of their labor for money, but rather as a platform that they can use to affect changes around them, toward their goals. Which is a good thing, a valuable mindset that can be used even when someone is just doing volunteer before getting their first internship. But the fact is, they had that luxury to not be chained by money. It was tough for the older folks too, they sure didn't have the same material conditions we have (not talking about the US - surely i dont know about the boomer baby period etc.). I would guess the difference is the Internet now allowing us to know at some level that it has always been that unfair.

Imagine you're running a marathon with your family. When they started, they ran barefoot. But all around them, everyone was running barefoot. They got to tell themselves, we're the only one that can take us across the finish line.

Then when you started, they gave you running shoes, fed you well, you had phones telling you the good running form, how to breath, video from atheletics sharing tips and advices how to to run and conserve your stamina. And your parents would sometimes say things like "look at all the advantage that they have that we didn't." And then you see on your phone that 5000 miles ahead of you, they were running in a Tesla, puffing out exhaust that surely will be the thing you breath in when you get there.

"Younger generation just isn't as committed to their job/own up to their responsibility anymore" and "younger generation are being severely underpaid that they are no longer able to become self-independent the way people their age merely years ago can" are both true statements and both points to the severely fucked up system being left behind for them

[drakoneve]

The Wolf Amongst Dragons

request: Can you pretty please do a daemon X reader where it's his niece who teases him about being super smitten with the reader BC she is a headstrong stark and makes a fool out of the court because she can. Perhaps she gets quite hurt in a battle that the king sends her and others out to fix. Basically it just ends up being fluffy where the reader knows his feelings and just soaks up the complete love he has. Like this boy has been knocked off his feet and he hates to admit it hehe 

pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n stark 

word count: 1k

warnings: canon typical violence, injured reader, blood

a/n: i tweaked this a little, hope you don’t mind!

You made a promise to yourself the day your older brother, Cregan, loaded you and your belongings into a carriage headed for the capital. Until this point you’d never stepped foot out of Winterfell, let alone were you prepared to move to the other side of the continent. Yet you had no choice. When the King of the Seven Kingdoms requests a Northern representative for the royal court, the Lord of Winterfell had no choice but to send his little sister.

When you finally arrived at the Red Keep you were meet with by King Viserys, his wife Queen Aemma, their daughter Princess Rhaenyra, and the king’s brother Prince Daemon. The Kingsguard stood tall in gleaming armor in full force surrounding the royal family, who was also accompanied by their personal staff.

“Lady Stark!” King Viserys cheers as he opens his arms in greeting. “We are honored to welcome you to the Red Keep! I hope your travels went smoothly?”

“Thank you, your Grace,” you answered as you bowed respectively. “The Kingsroad is fine, your Grace. It’s more the climate that’s concerning me. i’m not yet used to such... conditions, to say the least.”

Queen Aemma steps forward, “I’m sure you’ll adjust before you know it. Please, allow me to show you to your chambers.”

The queen was gracious enough to accompany you not only to your chambers, but she then took you on a tour of the palace. She began with the throne room, then took you out to the royal gardens where she took you to the Godswood. Having a weirwood tree right here in the Red Keep made you breath easier. At least this place had some trace of the North. Being so far from home unnerved you deeply, but in this place you could feel a connection to home.

Over the next few days you attended Small Council meetings where you watched from the sidelines. King Viserys assured you would have a seat on the council soon enough, but others suggested you have an ‘adjustment period’ of sorts. You scoffed at the idea but still took your seat outside the council table.

Being separated from the council, however, was not enough to restrain you from calling Otto Hightower a ‘spoiled southern cunt’ for suggesting Daemon send members of the City Watch into Flea Bottom to reprimand those who are already fighting to survive. During these meetings you happened to catch the violet eyes of the rogue prince, who had yet to make your acquaintance. 

Not long after your arrival in Winterfell, King Viserys announced that Queen Aemma is with child once more, and the palace went into a mode of celebrations. A feast had been prepared and the throne room transformed into a dining hall with room for dancing. 

Most everyone had finished their meals and began mingling and dancing their way around the room, but your attention focused mainly on the many molten swords of the Iron Throne. You had to admit the sight of the royal seat of Westeros was quite an intimidating sight.

Something inside told you to take a step towards the throne, and so you did. You stopped when you approached the first line of molten swords and reached out to trail your fingers lightly across the hilt. 

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Daemon advised teasingly as he came up on your right side. “My brother does not take kindly to those who yearn for his precious throne.”

“I merely grazed the hilt of one measly sword,” you refuted. “I did not sit my arse upon it and call myself the queen. Nor do I want to.”

“Truthfully?” he inquires, a look of curiosity upon his face. You take the moment to take in the sight of him, and you cannot deny he’s an incredibly handsome  man. Like the rest of his Targaryen ancestors, Daemon is beautifully crafted by the Gods of Old Valyria— blessed with silver blond hair and lilac eyes. 

You nod and look back up to the throne. “I could think of nothing worse,” you admit. “To live my life upon this ghastly thing and have to sit through endless bore-me-to-death Small Council meetings? Sounds miserable to me.”

With that you excuse yourself respectively to retire for the evening. You make quick rounds to the other members of the royal family to excuse yourself for the night totally unaware of how Daemon’s eyes are following you the whole time. He watches as you begin with his brother and sister in law, before finding Rhaenyra (who’s in the middle of the dancefloor with Alicent) and saying goodnight to her, too.

He laughs to himself when Rhaenyra and Alicent each take one of your hands and pulls you around in circles with them, as if trying to convince you to stay with them just a bit longer. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but his heart beats harder at the sight of your dark gray satin skirts flow around you while you twirl, at the smile on your face as you laugh with his niece and her friend.

Eventually you pull away from the girls before officially making your way out of the throne room and away from the chaos. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Several months had passed since the death of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and war had begun in the Stepstones just as Corlys Velaryon warned King Viserys and the eternity of the Small Council. Still Viserys refused to step in as king and help the Lord of Driftmark defeat the Triarchy once and for all. After the king rejected Corlys’ offer of Laena’s hand in marriage and instead married Alicent Hightower, the seasnake took off to fight in the Stepstones. It wasn’t long after that that Daemon joined Corlys in his war efforts.

You stayed in the Keep for awhile, trying to convince Viserys to aid Corlys and Daemon in their efforts of holding the Stepstones to no avail. Viserys had allowed you to take a seat on the council while Corlys and Daemon were gone, and each time you tried to plead with the king to see reason Otto Hightower would weasel his way in the king’s ear against you. 

So you decided to go to the Stepstones yourself, naturally. You recruited Ser Harwin Strong to accompany you once he swore on his honor he would not say a word of your plan to anyone until his safe return to King’s Landing. 

You and Harwin arrived on the shores of the Stepstones in time to rush to Daemon’s side as he was overrun by members of the Triarchy. You wore the armor your father had gifted you after many years of insisting on joining your brother Cregan on the battlefield with the Stark bannermen. 

Vaemond Velaryon scoffed at your arrival and insisted Corlys send you away. Daemon stepped forward, piercing Vaemond with his furious lilac gaze. 

“Put your cocks away, boys,” you tease, unimpressed. “We’ve a war to win, do we not?”

You joined the war torn men around the large table set up with the maps of the battlefields. Conversation continued back and forth as the lot of you tried to come up with a plan to take down the Crab Feeder and Triarchy. Laenor’s plan of sending Daemon to the Crab Feeder as a scapegoat of false hope only for both Caraxes and Seasmoke to burn the Triarchy men alive. 

For the most part everything went as planned, until you jained Daemon’s side as he was ambushed, unarmed, by a circle of the enemy. You’d jumped into the fight, effectively taking out several Triarchy soldiers before tossing a sword Daemon’s way. He showed his thanks by slaying the rest of the men with you, but not before one of them slashed you in the side, leaving a bloody gash on the side of your thigh.

“Fuck!” you yell as you clutch your leg, losing your balance and hitting the ground. Blood streamed down your leg in a slow, but steady, flow. Daemon joined your side in a flash, ripping the white flag he’d had to feign surrenderance to tie the cloth as tight as he could above the gash in your thigh.

The battle continued around you though for the most part Caraxes’ and Seasmoke’s flame had discouraged most of what was left of the Triarchy. With Daemon’s aid you were able to safely make it back to the shore where you’d first arrived to be treated by the healers available.

Daemon stayed by your side through the stitching and even went as far as to hold your hand and offer sweet words as comfort. You were grateful for him, this way you had something else to focus on other than the pain. And if you needed an alternative to keep your mind busy, there was no better pick than Daemon.

His silvery white hair fell around his face perfectly despite being slightly matted with sweat and blood. He’d always been handsome, that you couldn’t deny, but seeing this softer side to him made him even more so in your eyes. It’s no secret Daemon is a troublemaker, and you should probably keep your distance, but after this how could you?

Long after the battle was over Daemon was crowned King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea. He’d cut his infamous long hair short, and it suited him. Sometimes little wisps of silver hair would fall down into his face and you had to remind yourself to breathe at the sight.

Your relationship with Daemon changed after the war in the Stepstones. Whereas before the war you would avoid Daemon in court, you now sought him out. Not that you had too, because he often would join your side in Small Council meetings or invite you out to the training yards.

Tonight however, you opted to stay in your chambers.

You’d already stripped down to your nightclothes when a knock came from the other side of your chamber doors.

“Come in.” you called.

The doors open and Daemon entered, dismissing your guards. They looked to you before leaving once they had your reassurance.

Daemon didn’t hesitate to step right up to you. “Forgive me for the hour, my lady, but I’ve found myself in a situation I am quite unfamiliar with and it seems you are the only one who can help me.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, trying to ignore the fluttering of your heart. “How am I supposed to be of aid?”

“Be mine,” he responds quickly with confidence. “I must confess from the day you arrived here in the Keep I’ve been quite taken with you. And the day you rode onto the shores of the Stepstones, I knew I could not live without you by my side—”

You reached your hands out to cup either side of his face. “Daemon, do not jest. I’m afraid my heart could not take it.”

A genuine smile breaks out across his lips. “I would never,” Daemon insists. “I’ve felt this way for a long time, my little wolf.”

Daemon’s hands fall to your waist as he pulls you into his body, leaning down to kiss you firmly. You pulled away and kissed his forehead before resting your own against his. 

“Come to bed, Daemon,” you purr and pull away towards the bed.

He laughs and smiles down at you. “As you wish, little wolf.”

[chifuyusfingers]

Could I request Tokyo Revengers boys when their s/o calls them baby boy? 😁

Tokyo Revenger boy's reaction to their S/O calling them baby boy.

_Mikey | Draken | Baji | Ran | Rindo | Chifuyu | Kokonoi_

M i k e y

He was annoying you, like usual. This time, he was holding the TV remote above your head because he doesn’t want to watch what you have on.

You’re jumping up and down, trying to grab the remote. He’s laughing at your failure.

“Mikey,” You whine. He just laughs even more. You try giving him the puppy eyes, but to no avail. He continues to hold it over your head.

He starts lowering it closer to your head, teasing you even more. He brings it back up above his head when you try grabbing it. "Oi baby boyy,” You whine.

“What?” He looks at you wide-eyed. You grab the remote from his hand, smiling at your success.

You turn back to the couch. “Oh, no,” He wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you into the air. “Baby boy’s still not done teasing you.”

B a j i

“Baby, can you get me something?” You call out to your boyfriend. You were laying on the couch, dying from your period.

You kept groaning, feeling bloated as fuck. Baji would do everything for you, letting you just relax. You didn’t like him doing this, but there’s no point in fighting him.

“What would you like, my love?”

“Can I have a glass of water?” You unwrap yourself from him and he leaves, but not without kissing your forehead first.

You wonder how lucky you got to be able to call him yours. He comes back, giving you the glass of water and even a bag of chips. “Thank you, Baby boy.”

He stands there, mouth open, eyes not blinking. He just stares at you. “What?” You ask him.

“You just called me…”

“Get used to it.” You pucker your lips, sending him a kiss.

C h i f u y u

You were cuddling on the couch, not paying attention to what was playing on the TV. “And I love your hair.” He says, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger.

You both have been giving each other compliments, telling what you love most about each other.

“And I love your skin, and your eyes– actually, your whole face, and your body, and your personality, just your entire being.” He kisses the top of your head. “I love you.”

“Thank you, Baby boy. I love you, too.” You giggle.

“Uhhhhh,”

“What?” You ask.

“Baby boy? Really?”

“What?” You shrug. “I like it.” You mumble.

“Just don’t say it in front of the other guys, okay?” He chuckles. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Okay, Baby boy” You smile.

“You’re gonna be the death of me."

D r a k e n

You couldn’t reach the remote and were far too comfortable to even attempt to get up.

Somewhere nearby, you could hear your boyfriend shuffling around and decided to make your call for help.

“Draken!” You called, hoping he would come into the room. Sure enough, Draken poked his head through the doorway and looked at you.

“Yes?~”

“Hey baby boy- can you get me the remote?” You asked while pointing at the remote besides the TV.

Draken was about to grab it but froze and turned to stare at you wide-eyed as he processed what you had just said.

“Wait a second.. What did you call me?”

“Draken?” You repeated questioningly.

“No no, not that.”

“Ah- baby boy?” You watched as his face lit up in excitement, the adoration for the new name clear on his face. “Sorry can you say it again?”

Realizing he was just trying to get you to repeat it, you rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Can you just get the remote?” You whined.

Draken grabbed the remote and walked over to where you were, holding it out to you. Before you could grab it however, Draken pulled it out of your reach.

“Can you ask one more time?”

Izana

As you two were standing in line waiting to order your food, you were low-key eavesdropping on the couple besides you.

They were cooing over each other with cheesy pet names and although you wanted to find it cringy, it was kind of cute.

The line moved forward and you nudged Izana who was spacing out.

“Come on baby boy-” You froze when you realized you had just addressed him by the pet name you’d heard from the couple.

izana's expression was absolutely blank as he looked at your flustered face.

After a few more seconds of staring, a laugh left his mouth and his face turned red.

“Baby-boy? Haha wow Y/N t-that’s cute- I MEAN, its cheesy, yeah it’s so c-cheesy like wow.. I thought you could think of -something better..” Izana stammered before nervously shuffling ahead.

It was one of the rare times you saw izana so lost for words, and you made a mental note to do it more often. Izana looked back at you to see if you were following.

“Are you coming babe?”

R a n

“I can’t find my phone baby boy!.” You informed Ran who was in the other room while you searched under the couches.

You heard a gasp followed by clattering and the sound of metal hitting the ground.

You hurriedly rushed into the kitchen to find Ran had knocked over half of the shelves of pots, but he was smiling at you brightly.

“Is everything okay?? What happened??” You asked worriedly, but Ran just ran to you. He pulled you into a big hug while cheering. You were confused, but just waited it out until he could explain his excitement.

“You called me baby boy! And damn it was so fucking cute and hot- I mean How long I’ve waited for this day!” Ran said dramatically, letting you go and swaying.

“For a pet name? If you wanted me to call you one before you could have asked.” You laughed.

R i n d o

Rindo was sitting on the couch flipping through the channels as you entered the room.

“Hey baby boy have you seen my phone?” You asked as he lifted his glass of water to his lips.

As soon as you said that, Rindo nearly spat the liquid out of his mouth. You looked up at him in concern while he struggled to gulp down the water, not wanting to make a mess.

Once he managed to swallow, he looked up at you like nothing had happened.

“Ahem. No, sorry. Haven’t seen it.”

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanour from sweet to serious. “Is everything alright?” You just didn’t realize how Rindo was trying to contain himself.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. It might be upstairs, that’s where you forget it the most when you’re busy. I’d go look there if I were you.” He suggested as you thanked him and left the room.

As soon you were gone, Rindo hid his face behind his hands while giggling.

K o k o n o i

You were watching a movie with koko on a rainy evening. You were leaning against his shoulder when an idea suddenly surfaced in your head.

You shot up into a sitting position and nearly scared koko half to death. “Baby boy.” You yelled out.

“..What?” koko asked in confusion. You turned to look at him with a smile..

“Your nickname is gonna be baby boy. Because it sounds cute, and I like it.” You went back to leaning on him while he processed what you had said.

Slowly, a smile came across his face. He felt flattered.

“If I’m baby boy then I’ll call you mo-.”

You stopped koko without letting him finish his sentence, "Don't you even dare to think that."

__________________________________________

Hey there! I hope you enjoy reading it? It's totally up to you though~ Hope you're well and be safe!~

_____________________________________________

[popcornforone]

ONE WEEK WITH DAVE YORK

CHAPTER TWO TUESDAY

Late Breakfast

Yep it’s time for Chapter two of your week with Dave York. Thanks for all the likes & shares with chapter one. It’s always appreciated.

Chapter One Monday

Synopsis: With the girls staying at Dave’s parents you have a lie in, which turns into more than just an extra snooze, & therefore a very late breakfast to be enjoyed.

WARNINGS: all warnings for this are on the main page however… DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Morning & Oral sex, mention of period sex but doesn’t actually happen, controlling & slight Dom Dave, fantasy’s being played out, mention of facials, spying & invading privacy, lack of trust, throat fucking, swearing, tasting, food involved. Masturbation, Mention of past incidents & injuries. I think that’s everything let me know if I’ve missed anything out.

Thanks for reading peoples, all feedback is always welcome. See you next Saturday for Wednesday

You panic when you turn over on Tuesday morning & the time reads 7:30am. “Fuck” you shout & go to move out of your bed. But that’s when Daves hand grasps you thigh. “It’s Tuesday you’re fine” he moans & the grasp & words make you shudder. Dave never has sex with you in his & Carols master bedroom. He always slips into yours quietly, while his cock does the same, slipping inside you, as he muffles your moans. A firm hand over your mouth or burying your head into the pillow does wonders for silencing. But he always finishes, lets you fall asleep & then heads back to his bed & wife. But no this morning you’ve woken up to this gloriously naked beautiful man, scars on show, & already hard. “My parents sweetheart, remember” he yawns & wraps his arm around you waist, pulling you back to bed. That’s when you remember that your pasta last night turned into a bit of lady & the tramp & he fucked you from behind while doing the washing up & then took you upstairs, to ravage you into your bed. No muffling last night. You screamed his name to the empty house so it bounce through all the room.

You lie down next to him & sigh “morning Mr York, did you have a busy night?” “Yes did, & I do believe I hit the target” & as always the first kiss you receive from him is soft. But that doesn’t mean the rest of him is. His hands are already on your hips & approaching your sex ready for another round this morning. “Ooooh this is a sight I always like to see” he coos after his lips part yours & he lifts his body to linger over you, lining up for a quick entry. “Please, please make me realise I’m awake, & this isn’t just my usual morning dream” & then your face turns red from embarrassment & your startled. You never fully touch yourself in the morning to the point of orgasm, but you always tease a little, & you always think it’s Dave nudging against you, teasing. & you’ve just confessed that to the man who’s hard & ready to take control of your body. “Really?” He says, looking smug & ready to get you to beg for him “tell me what “i” would usually do as you feel yourself, tell me sweetheart, & I might live up to that fantasy” his eyes are dilated & his tip is leaking. He’s straddling you, stroking his length ready to do whatever your mouth now says.

“Well first of all I massage my breasts above my top in large ooh god” & his hands do exactly what you would do, flicking at your nipples “I mean do you want me to put a…” “god no!” He exclaims, “if I had no kids or wife, you’d clean & run this house naked & let me clean you every time you got dirty, which would be on the hour” & you moan at his touch “keep talking girl,” he grunts “Dave please” you rock your hips & take his hand from your breasts & trial it down your body as to where yours would go if he weren’t here “yessss” as your entwined hands reach your sex & you let go “one finger or two ?” & he raises an eyebrows “two but I think we’re past that point….. oh Dave” & his thumb slides across your clit & he throbs his penis through your folds slowly. “How far do you go sweetheart” he frowns his eyes closing as he adjusts to your tightness. “Far enough to make me think it’s you fingaasassasssss” he rocks slowly inside you, your walls being dragged by his every movement, his thumb still teasing your clit. You shut your eyes moaning “oh yes Dave” every few rocks. This is sensual. This is not the Dave York you usually get. You get the assassin, the man who needs a blow off, the man who needs to let out frustration, but here your are getting the Dave that you believe Carol gets when he sleeps with her.

You open your eyes for a moment & realise his aren’t shut either & that he’s looking at every single movement your body is making as he feels you against him. It’s like he’s analysing data, it’s just that data is your naked body, being controlled by his. He catches your eyes & smirks, “just admiring” he says “don’t often get the time to look at how beautiful all of you is, fuckkkkk” your hips interrupted him as they have picked up the rocking & your clamping around his cock …”thought you said you didn’t get that far” he moans “your inside me Dave, I’m always ooooh baby…” & he picks up his pace, it’s no longer as slow & seductive “… cum, youre always going to cum. Your cunt is too insatiable to not” & you bring his head down & passionately take his lips with yours. He’s completely flush against you, all his weight bearing down is heavy but feeling across those broad shoulder(being careful to avoid that knife mark from 6 weeks ago which is still sore) bares down makes you squeeze him more & makes him pulse harder.

It feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced with Dave before. No more words are said just heavy breathing & moaning & looking into each others eyes, before you both cum. Your bodies are sweaty messes & he just giggles & laughs when it’s over. “Surely that’s better than your fingers” he whipspers into your ears as he lies down next to you, still inside you “yes baby it is, but your not here usually in the morning or it’s far too early” & you snuggle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. You feel like a half an hour doze will set you up for the rest of the day. It’s at this exact moment he realised that he had slept in your bed, as he yawns, his eyes a little heavy too. Why did he do that, he’s a married man, you are his house keeper & nanny & fuck toy. & then he hears you snore, sound asleep again, caressing his chest. After a few minutes of lying in bliss, listening to you sleep in amongst the rest of the silent house, he slides his penis out of you, cleans the both of you up & throws the duvet back on top of you. He heads to your dresser & finds the hidden keyboard & screen, typing in his master override. The cctv of your bedroom that you believe you only have access too, he downloads to his personal secure server, ready to analysis later, much like he had just done your body.

You eventually stir at 10am, feeling satisfied & also knowing full well before you lay your hand on the pillow that Dave won’t be there. He will be on a conference call already or be out jogging. You leap in the shower quickly, today was more making appointments & play dates for the kids & seeing if you have time to work on your art portfolio. The Yorks had been kind enough to give you the second garage to paint & draw & create in. Often you’d thought about getting Dave to come in & observe or be the muse but you thought that might be a step too far with your art. As long as you are clean & sensibly dressed to get the girls from school later that’s fine. Skinny jeans & a nice mint green t-shirt go on as you go down stairs. Once again no sight of Dave in the lounge, study or kitchen but you see he’s left you pancake mix, & coffee ready to be brewed. You smile & start making them & realise there’s enough mix for 2 so you send him a message.

*where-ever you are breakfast will be ready in by 10:45am 😊 & you put on your rock music playlist which you know is not suitable for the kids as you jump about getting cutlery & flipping those little circles of breakfast delight. It’s as you go to the bin that he’s leaning against the door frame in his running gear all sweaty, which startled you. “Seriously Dave” you gasp “I’m not a target, you don’t need to sneak up on me” “you are always my target” he scowls at you still leaning & chugging back a bottle of cold water. Every bead of sweat you really want to lick up & tell him how sweet & salty he is.

“How far did you run?” You ask trying not to be distracted by your arousal, as you pour his coffee into his mug & place it on the breakfast bar. “The standard 5k” he says & he puts down his water bottle & grasps the coffee mug sitting on the bar stool. The breakfast mugs aren’t small, but his hands always seem to eclipse them. So large & sturdy, grasping at them with long fingers. It always makes you think about when he has you around the throat when he grasps them. He notices you staring a little longer and that you are licking your lips, so he slurps a lot more than usual, to make you feel even more than just what those hands do. “5k that’s good, anything interesting happening out there today” you’ve not stepped outside the house yet, & probably won’t until you go to pick the girls up at 3:30. You slide his 4 pancakes onto his plate & the 3 onto yours, then place them in front of your two spots. “No nothing out of the ordinary at all. Thank you” he says & as you slide onto your bar stool to start eating, he slides his hand onto your thigh. It’s not a tight grip but it’s one that could lead to more if the mood was right.

These aren’t the best pancakes you’ve made but they aren’t the worst either. You’ve got about two mouthfuls left when he finishes his & checks his phone. He glimpses up at you, at the exact moment some maple syrup trickles from the side of your mouth. Its instantaneous as he moves off his stool towards you & licks it up, before moving his lips to yours to taste the breakfast again. He licks the roof of your mouth to get every inch of flavour from you, while holding your head in place. As you break he stares back at you in shook at what he’s just done. He didn’t even think twice & his tongue was lapping at your tonsils, that could have been an embracing situation. What if the girls & carol had been here. But he quickly puts that out of his mind when he sees the loving little smirk on your face. “So a big appetite today then?” You joke taking the next two mouthfuls of your breakfast & gulping down the coffee. “Oooh girl you have no idea” he says, snatching your plate away to put in the sink & then brushing down the surface. He’s back next to you in a flash almost knocking over his bar stool before he lifts you up onto the island. “Dave let me at least finish my mouthful” you muster through your food. He then lifts himself to straddle you but then screams “ouch the fuck”. The kitchen island has got these low hanging lights. Perfect for setting the mood of a dinner party or looking at exactly what you’re cooking & cutting, but not good for mounting your nanny to thrust into their glistening cunt. Yours is already dripping for him, it’s been aroused from the moment he startled you. You laugh as he lowers himself back down & rubs his head. Unfortunately Dave is now not in a good mood & your little giggle is going to be met with consequences.

“You mouth is not aloud to giggle until I say it can sweetheart” he commands . Oooh fuck you think, you’re extremely turned on & scared right now. Dave uses this voice when you hear an operation has gone wrong & it was the voice he used when he told you to hide on the day they came to take him out when he was fucking you at your apartment. “Yes mr York” you whisper & he puts his hands on your hips while you are still lying across the island. “You said yesterday I should watch your mouth” he grunts as he slides you off the island & back to your feet, he presses against you hard, so you can feel his groin pulsing against you. “I think it’s time we checked it’s still up to scratch” & he takes his large powerful hands from your hips, spins you around, so his back is now facing the island, & pushes you to the floor on your knees. From his pocket he produces a hair tie for you. “You know the position girl” & as you tie your hair up he takes off his t-shirt, wiping any left over sweat away from him & you pull down his trousers, which he had been in commando while he ran. He stands before your complete naked, glistening, the most perfect specimen of a man, even with the scars & bruises. He takes his hand to his harden length & proceeds to to start stroking it, while your slide off your top & trousers while still kneeling before him. His cock is at your eyes line as it leaks precum. He admires as he strokes himself, your underwear & your body. It’s not the slimmest or prettiest but it always turns him on & he wishes you showed off your curves a little more so the world could see how good you looked under those plane clothes. You bow your head trying desperately to not lick your lips, do puppy dog eyes at him or touch yourself. You know he likes to make you wait before you engulf him & he loves the thrill of making it all the more sweeter, when you eventually do. He will command you to start & once he does that will be it. You rock silently, hands on thighs. He is loving the fact that he can be completely dominating, & control you with all of about 5 words. Hed never get away with standing in his kitchen completely naked with anyone else, not even his wife, but you will do anything to attend his needs. It was a small clean up operation with some red wine which lead to your first sexual encounter together & your willingness to go the extra mile.

He looks down at you & goes to the base of his shaft “okay that’s enough waiting comeance..” before he can through rest of his sentence that he usually does in this situation, your licking at his tip, the saliver trailing from him to your lips. So eager to taste every remnants of Dave York. Every drop of precum upto that moment has been a delicious waste & he gasps “oooh sweetheart & you thought ooooh crap” you reach behind him & squeeze his arse “I had an appetite, god you oooooooh” as your mouth locks around him & you make the first sucking notions pulling yourself into him. You don’t care if he’s gonna face fuck you rough, if your in control or if he’s going to give you a facial at the end of this which will spill onto your breasts, you want his cock as far down your throat as possible. You want to look messy & you want him to wish that he could have your mouth, arsehole & cunt every single time, because that’s what you always think of the second you see him every morning. “Oooh yes girl take it all” & he plants a hand in the island to steady himself as the other goes to the back of your head to encourage your bobbing motion, before he starts to thrust his hips in a minute.

He is pulsing down your throat & you are sure he is getting longer, harder & girthier than before. Filling up all the available space as you hollow out around him. Your first gag makes him stop trusting & he moves a piece of hair that’s trailed across your face & you do you sexy eyes at him glancing up thorough your flickering eyelashes. “However sweetheart, she’s not gonna walk in on us, you’ve got timmmmmeeeeeee” time is drawn-out as he moans because he’s fully inside your mouth & down the back of your throat. “No oh nooo ooohhhh” words are already failing him “no gag reflex that time” & you smirk slightly & return to commence your bobbing sucking & stroking. He feels so good as his Hips keep rolling towards your head. You leisurely slurp around him, tears starting to gather in your eyes, this feeling & taste of him, you are sure when you get up eventually from the floor, you will have left your own pool of arousal. You are now flush against him, a hand flat against the kitchen cupboards for balance, the other moving between this shaft, thigh & balls which you occasionally tease. When you move towards him as his hips reach your face, you can feel the hair on his base prick your face. He’s not clean shaven down there but he always makes sure it’s not over grown. He likes it when you tug in it some times, much like he likes you keeping a small amount around yours. However he has recently booked you up waxing appointments within your own time, with the professional knowing in advanced as to what he wants left down there when you go to see them. Still controlling you even then.

Tears stream down your face now, gagging every couple of thrusts. Eyes stinging & glaring up at him as he moans your name. His hands clinging onto the island for all its worth, hips rolling in a figure of 8, rhythmic & hypnotising. You dont care that your knees hurt or that you look a mess, he is making noises so explicit that if it wasn’t for the house being sound proofed, the whole town would know that Dave York was having sex, & fucking the tonsils out of the back of his employees throat. “God you’re so good, god you treat me right, oh fuck, so close” his eyes are shut as he cry’s this. You are clenched around nothing, dripping at turning him on so much. & then you realise you are now actually in control. He’s lost, knowing he’s about to explode at any second. But what would he like to see after his initial let go on his come down. You go for the deliciously dripped look as he’s previously called it. Your mouth slides all the way down his length, to the base & so his tip slides into your throat. Your tongue then does a loop around him & you slowly edge back licking the bottom of his shaft & you know when the spills coming. & on cue at the half way point, your lips fully engulf with the lick onto his cock, & he does one last throb & thrust & screams “fuck me” as he spills into your mouth lashings of cum. Salty, sticky but all Dave & ever so delicious, it coats your mouth, you will taste of him for days, long after she’s back home at the weekend. You continue to slurp suck & attend, knowing he will still be hard as his hips still rock desperate to taste all of him. Your lips part slightly at one point to let some of him spill onto your breasts, a treat for after his come down. You can see his eyes are still shut as his thrust become shallower & you feel less liquid sliding down your throat. Why does his cum always taste so good.

His eyes open once you have let go of his slightly softening penis with a loud pop & you say “ delicious as ever mr York” before returning to you rocking on your knees, the floor is now soaked from you. He looks down at you in that position, your face a mess, hair all over the place, despite being tied up & drops of his cum across all sorts of parts of you. “Oooh sweetheart, you know how to look after me” & he slides down to his knees from the island, finally letting go of it, leaning in for a kiss. & then he sees the splattering of his seed across your breasts. “naughty girl” he moans eyes intoxicated. His rough hands unclasp your bra & once your chest is exposed he attends to licking every drop of his cum off you. “Dave, oooh fuck Dave” you echo, as your hands trials across his chest as his lips explore you once again. He slides a finger into your knickers “well I will have to deal with this later”He sighs “your so wet but I’m afraid i may have gone to far there, give me an hour or so & we can complete this.” He says as his lips engulf yours once more & his hand move to your neck, before it slide down your shoulders & the two of you sit on the kitchen floor in a post oral sex haze.

Eventually you let him go & stand up, which he seems confused at. As you stand up however your knickers don’t & your slide off the soaked material to expose the rest of yourself to him. His eyes widen with anticipation. “Oooh girl, laters going to be so much fun. I’m going to make your scream my name so many times” & he goes to plant a kiss on your mound, but instead you wave your sodden knickers in his face. He catches them & you can see his cock twitch a little. “ to remind you of that promise” & his lips part. You’ve never actively given him your undies before he’s always just taken them, but this pair here he is never going to give back to you. “I’m going to go take a Bath, then I’ll come & clean this up before picking up the girls” you say & you wiggle your hips & arse as you walk away. “Bath?” He asks exquisitely, he knows you don’t have one in your bathroom. “Yes I’m going to use the family bathroom bath & no your not joining me” he had previously joined you for a bath & made most of the water spill out of it 3 weeks ago when you were on your period, which you were both concerned about which had been late, finally arrived & he wanted to help you through as much of the pain as possible. You leave him kneeling naked on the kitchen floor holding your knickers moaning “oh fuck me, she’s a tease”

It 3:20 as you put your coat on to get the girls. Since leaving Dave in the kitchen, you’ve said all of about 10 words to each other. Mostly coffee, can you print this, foods on the table. He’s been busy sorting out whatever is going down on Friday & checking security features on the house & you’ve cleaned your bathroom, changed all the sheets & done prep for dinner tonight. You knock on his office door & poke your head round as he looks at something intently on him laptop before closing it & returning to gaze & look at you up & down. “Should be back here with the girls by 4:30 unless you need me to get you anything Mr York” you ask. Despite making each other scream from pleasure, you’re always professional to each other until lust gets involved. “Nope can’t think of anything but thank you” he nods & you go to leave, but in a flash he’s out of his chair & his hand is around yours before his lips crash against yours. You allow his tongue to explore for as long as possible before your both go to break at the same time. He smiles a happy smile & his eyes dance, something that rarely happen “you okay” you ask “yea I am actually,” he pauses “youre the only person who ever asks me that you know” & he rubs his chin. Why is he having feelings for you right now, it’s just sex, it’s just sex he says inside his head. “I’m a caring soul that’s why” you reply & kiss the back of his hand “& I know that if your not okay I should be worried in all sorts of respect” “ahhh that is true” he smirks & waves you off on your way out of his office.

He watches to make sure the car pulls away & off down the road before he returns to his laptop. Dave had been discussing Fridays job with people earlier, but now he is down loading all your bedroom & bathroom cctv footage from the last two weeks, up to your breakfast replacement sex this morning onto his server. Your knickers from yesterday & today he takes out & frees his length, ready to watch you touch yourself multiple times, so he can see what new little kinks turn the two of you on. He spills into the material 5mins before the car pulls into the drive. Cleaned up & looking like a normal work from home dad he greets the girls who excitedly tell him about their last couple of days, while you go & start getting things ready to do home work & then cook dinner. Yea to the rest of the world Dave seeing his daughters is normal father like behaviour, but you know the second you’ve both put the girls to bed tonight, he’s finding you to make sure you cum while his tongue is at least 3 inches inside your cunt.

Chapter Three