#philosophizing popcorn ����

[skywitchmaja]

omg new big joel video essay just dropped :D

[princessshikky]

Yoo Joonghyuk and Shin Yoosung wasting an entire day to decide once and for all which one of them was Kim Dokja's incarnation first. There are graphs, lengthy discussions on the nature of time itself, quotes from philosophers and a lot of yelling involved. Han Sooyoung is also there with popcorn, occasionally booing at Yoo Joonghyuk.

[missrosiesworld]

A Thoughtful Heart

Headcanons for when Wise is in a relationship

Thoughtful Gestures: Wise is attentive to his partner's likes and dislikes. He often surprises them with small, thoughtful gifts or gestures, like bringing their favorite snacks or planning a special date around their interests.

Aware of his partner's love for classic films, Wise plans a special movie night in his bedroom, creating a cozy atmosphere with extra pillows, blankets, and their favorite snacks. When his partner enters the room, they’re pleasantly surprised by the thoughtful setup. "Wow, this is amazing! You remembered my favorite movies and snacks!" they exclaim, eyes lighting up with excitement. Smiling warmly, Wise hands them a bowl of popcorn. "Of course I did," he replies affectionately. "I wanted us to have a special night together." As they settle in beside him, Wise wraps an arm around them, and they lean their head on his shoulder with a grateful smile. "You're always so thoughtful," they say softly. Wise responds with a gentle kiss on their forehead, whispering, "I just want to make you happy."

Deep Conversations: Being a thoughtful and philosophical person, Wise loves engaging in deep, meaningful conversations with his partner. Whether discussing life, dreams, or their favorite books and movies, he enjoys connecting on an intellectual and emotional level.

Wise and his partner are sitting on his bed, discussing a thought-provoking documentary they recently watched. Thoughtfully rubbing his chin, Wise leans back against the headboard, his gaze focused and intense. "It's fascinating how different perspectives can reshape our understanding of history. It makes you think about the narratives we accept as truth, doesn't it?" he says.   His partner nods, their expression equally thoughtful. "Absolutely. It challenges what we consider to be the truth and makes us question our own beliefs and biases." Wise gently takes their hand, his eyes warm and sincere. "I love these moments with you," he says softly. "It feels like we're exploring the world together, discovering new ways of seeing things."

Protective Nature: Wise has a strong protective instinct. He's always looking out for his partner's well-being, whether it's making sure they're safe or supporting them during difficult times. He's not overbearing but offers a comforting presence.

The couple walk home along a dimly lit street after a late-night outing. Noticing his partner shivering slightly, Wise quietly slips off his jacket and drapes it over their shoulders, gently pulling them closer. "I can't have you catching a cold," he says softly, his voice filled with concern. His partner smiles appreciatively, snuggling into the warmth of his jacket. "Thank you for always looking out for me," they say, their eyes meeting his with warmth and affection. Wise's gaze softens as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to their forehead. "It's because I care about you," he promises, his voice a comforting murmur. "I'll always look out for you."

Acts of Service: Wise expresses his love through acts of service. He enjoys doing little things to make his partner's life easier, like cooking a meal, helping with errands, or just being there to listen after a long day.

The kitchen is filled with the comforting aroma of a homemade meal, and the table is carefully set. Wise finishes the final touches, smiling as his partner enters. "I made your favorite dish," he says warmly, "thought it might be a nice surprise after your long day." Moved, they wrap their arms around him, resting their head against his back. "You're amazing. Thank you," they murmur gratefully. Turning to face them, Wise gently cups their face, planting a soft kiss on their temple. "Anything for you," he whispers, leading them to the table with a smile. "Let's enjoy this together—I want to hear all about your day."

Gentle and Supportive: Wise is incredibly gentle and supportive, always ready to lend a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on. He's the type to offer words of encouragement and reassurance, making his partner feel cherished and valued.

After a tough day, Wise notices his partner sitting on the couch, visibly tired and down. He gently sits beside them, taking their hand and softly stroking the back of it with his thumb. "Hey," he begins soothingly, "I know today was hard. Do you want to talk about it?" Grateful for his presence, they admit, "It's just been a long day. Everything seemed to go wrong." Wise listens intently, wrapping an arm around their shoulders for support. "It's okay," he reassures them gently, pressing a tender kiss to their temple. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

Shared Interests: He loves sharing his interests with his partner, whether it's watching documentaries, reading books, or ideas. He also enjoys learning about their interests, making an effort to engage in activities they love.

On a cozy afternoon, Wise and his partner sat comfortably on his bed, watching a documentary on the TV, surrounded by open books and a laptop that reflected their shared interests. With bright eyes, Wise gestured toward the screen, saying, "This part is fascinating! It's incredible how they captured such detailed footage of the underwater ecosystem." His partner smiled and nodded, clearly enjoying the experience. Reaching for a marine life book, Wise added, "Maybe we can dive into these topics later, and I'd love to hear more about that art exhibit you mentioned." Grinning, his partner leaned closer. "I'd love that. Maybe we can try painting afterward?" Wise laughed softly, wrapping an arm around them and pulling them closer as he placed a gentle kiss on their forehead. "Absolutely. It's great exploring new things with you."

Affectionate: While he may start off reserved, Wise becomes more openly affectionate as the relationship deepens. He enjoys holding hands, hugging, and cuddling, finding comfort in physical closeness.

One evening, after a long day, Wise and his partner settled onto his bed, the weight of the day easing away in each other’s presence. Without a word, Wise gently pulled them closer, wrapping his arms around them in a warm embrace. They rested their head on his chest as he softly ran his fingers through their hair, a contented smile on his lips. "I��ve been looking forward to this all day," Wise whispered, his voice filled with quiet affection. His partner snuggled closer, holding him gently. "Me too," they murmured. Wise leaned down slightly, brushing his nose tenderly against theirs. "You’re my favorite part of the day," he admitted quietly, his words carrying the weight of his emotions.

Romantic Surprises: Wise likes planning romantic surprises, whether it's a spontaneous date night, a homemade dinner, or leaving sweet notes for his partner to find. He enjoys making his partner feel special and loved.

Throughout the day, Wise carefully planned a series of romantic surprises, leaving sweet notes for his partner to find. Each note expressed his love and appreciation, with messages like, “Just a quick reminder of how much you mean to me. Your smile lights up my day, and your laughter is the sweetest sound. Love, Wise.” When his partner found a note tucked inside their bag, they couldn’t help but smile. "You always know how to make me smile," they said warmly. Wise grinned, pleased by their reaction. "I love surprising you. It's my way of reminding you how much I care," he said, his voice filled with affection. His partner wrapped their arms around him, giving him a warm hug. "Thank you for always thinking of me," they murmured. As Wise gazed into their eyes, he held them close, their foreheads touching for a moment. He leaned in, and his lips met theirs, soft and tender at first, then deepening with warmth, savoring the closeness. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were soft and sincere. "I'll always find ways to show you how much you mean to me.”

Loyal and Committed: Wise is deeply loyal and committed. Once he's in a relationship, he is fully devoted to his partner, valuing trust and honesty above all. He's not afraid of commitment and looks forward to building a future together.

As they sat together, Wise and his partner began discussing future plans with a sense of excitement and anticipation. His partner hesitantly glanced down at their intertwined hands and asked, "Do you ever think about... us, in the future?" Wise met their gaze, his eyes steady and filled with love. Reaching up, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind their ear. "All the time," he replied, his voice soft yet firm. "I'm here for the long haul." His partner smiled, their eyes shining with emotion as they squeezed his hand gently. "I am too," they said, their voice filled with conviction and warmth. Wise leaned in, his hands moving to cradle their face tenderly. He paused for a moment, their breaths mingling, before pressing a tender kiss to their lips. Pulling back slightly, he murmured, "Then we're in this together," his words a vow as much as a promise.

Encourages Growth: Wise is deeply invested in his partner’s personal growth and well-being. He encourages them to pursue their passions, supports their goals, and provides constructive feedback when needed.

One evening, Wise and his partner were sitting together, discussing a dream project his partner had been hesitant to start. Sensing their uncertainty, Wise gently took their hand, his gaze warm and reassuring. "You know, I’ve seen how passionate you are about this. I think you should go for it," he said with quiet conviction. His partner looked at him, doubts still lingering. "But what if I fail?" they asked softly. Wise smiled, squeezing their hand. "Even if things don’t go exactly as planned, you’ll learn and grow from it. And I’ll be right here, supporting you every step of the way," he assured them. Feeling a surge of confidence, his partner nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips. "Thank you for always believing in me," they whispered. Leaning in, Wise pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. "We’re in this together. Let’s make those dreams a reality," he murmured, lovingly encouraging them.

Playful Side: Despite his serious nature, Wise has a playful side that comes out more in a relationship. He enjoys teasing his partner lightly and sharing moments of laughter and joy.

During a cozy evening in the living room, Wise and his partner sat on the couch. While his partner was engrossed in a book, Wise glanced over with a mischievous glint in his eyes and gently nudged them with his elbow. "Hey, what’s so interesting in there that you're ignoring me?" he teased. His partner looked up with a smile, clearly amused. "Just a really good part. Why, are you feeling neglected?" Wise feigned a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "Terribly so. I might just wither away from lack of attention." His partner laughed softly, setting the book aside and poking him lightly. "Alright, you have my attention now. What are you going to do with it?" Grinning, Wise swiftly scooped them up, pulling them into his lap. "I think I'll keep it right here," he said, planting a playful kiss on their nose, his eyes sparkling with affection.

Communication: Wise places a high value on communication. He's always willing to talk through any issues or misunderstandings, ensuring that both he and his partner are on the same page and feel understood.

Late at night, after a minor disagreement, Wise and his partner found themselves in the bedroom. Sensing the lingering tension, Wise sat on the edge of the bed, facing his partner with earnest concern. He gently took their hand, his voice calm but firm. "I never want us to go to bed upset. Let's talk about this and make sure we both feel understood." His partner sighed softly, their expression softening. "You're right," they agreed, sitting beside him. "I don't like going to bed with things unresolved either." With a small, encouraging smile, Wise squeezed their hand reassuringly, cupping their cheek gently with his other hand. "I care about how you feel and what you think," he said warmly. "Let's figure this out together." As the tension eased, his partner nodded, their voice filled with appreciation. "Thank you for always being willing to talk things through." Wise leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to their forehead, his thumb softly brushing their cheek. "It's important to me," he murmured. "I love you, and I want us to always be on the same page."

[reishifts]

HOUSE? — hogwarts scripting guide.

as we‘re all aware there are four different hogwarts houses; in this post i’ll guide you through their traits, weaknesses etc. to help you chose one for your dr ! remember this is based on what i think, not literal facts.

traits ; positive or neutral aspects that describes how sm acts

weaknesses ; areas where a person might struggle

random ; random things that remind me of the houses

songs ; songs that remind me of the houses

GRYFFINDOR.

traits: fearless spirit, passionate, willing to stand up for themselves, adventurous, bold, driven by a strong moral compass, loves challenges, enjoys leadership, doesn’t mind taking risks, loves the idea of protecting others and fighting for themselves, quick to act, often relies on their instincts, brave, strong sense of justice, naturally charismatic, direct

possible weaknesses: acts before thinking, impulsive, can overlook details, recklessness, may struggle to back down in arguments, sometimes overlay idealistic, prone to taking too much to prove themselves

random: campfires. superhero movies. red. lions. espresso. fireworks. rivers. escape rooms. leather jackets. motorcycles. snowball fights. comics.

songs: everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears. die w a smile - bruno mars. right now - one direction. wide awake - katy perry. pride - kendrick.

HUFFLEPUFF.

traits: heart & soul of hogwarts, compassionate, known for their dedication, approaches everything w patience and perseverance, hard worker, fair, patient, loyal, kind, quick to forgive, willing to give second chances, willing to put in effort, stays consistent till they succeed, good listener, harmonious, grounded

possible weaknesses: puts others‘ needs above theirs, tendency to be underestimated, may seem as naive, struggles w setting boundaries, may avoid the spotlight even when they deserve it

random: bakeries. board games. flower field. yellow. gardening. herbology. dogs. honey. pottery. family albums. road trip playlists. popcorn. stickers.

songs: why i love u - jayz. me myself n i - bebe rexha. wildflower - billie eilish. again - noah cyrus. my blood - ellie goulding.

SLYTHERIN.

traits: stragetic, values success, has clear sense of their goals and how to achieve them, resilient, adaptable, resourceful, doesn‘t shy away from things they want, self-motivated, strong sense of determination, can thrive under pressure, can read people like books, smart

possible weaknesses: selfish, competitive, trust issues, prefers to work alone, secretive, vulnerable, doesn’t ask for help, jealous

random: chess. black cars. green. goth. statues. wine. chocolate. secret diaries. crowns. luxury hotels. rare gemstones. spy novels.

songs: give me everything - pitbull. supermassive black hole - muse. jealousy - tnbh. ultraviolence - ldr. chihiro - billie eilish. heartbeat - cg.

RAVENCLAW.

traits: intelligent, creative, wise, curious, loves exploring, good analyst, can easily solve problems, values personal space, enjoys intellectual pursuits, open minded, observant, often philosophical, quality over quantity, amazing memory, drawn to abstract thinking

possible weaknesses: may seem aloof or emotionally distant, self-critical, burnouts, overly perfectionist, socially withdrawn, too introspective

random: library. ink. blue. night sky. music notes. art. operas. documentaries. fashion shows. poetry. birds. podcasts. mascara. tea.

songs: wicked game - chris isaak. art deco - ldr. glory box - portishead. softcore - tnbh. mind games - sickick. chihiro - billie eilish.

[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, II

masterlist

summary: a night out with a friend has you reaching out for joel

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. no smut (yet). allusion to SA (nothing happens)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for the love on part one! i know there is not much joel yet, but fear not, this will be rectified fruitfully in part three <3

word count: 2.6k

After leaving Joel's place, you ran across the street to change for your night out. As usual, you turned your porch light off to indicate to Joel that you had gotten home safely, a small tradition you had kept since you first started babysitting Sarah late at night. Sometimes you would linger by the front door to watch Joel appear at his window, confirming your safe return. Whenever you caught him looking, you would wave, and he would return a small salute. That tiny movement of his hand would replay on loop all night.

Tonight, you didn't have time to stay and check, but felt that familiar feeling of the hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention as you passed your living room window. You had promised your closest friend Daisy that you would head into the city with her tonight, despite it being a Thursday and you both having ungodly early morning commitments.

When it came to Daisy, you could never say no. She had these all-devouring doe eyes and a sweet Southern belle twang that only came out when she wanted something. This time, she wanted to "accidentally" bump into a guy on her course she knew would be out. Aside from Joel and Sarah, your move to Texas would have been nothing without befriending Daisy in a bar toilet. Both a couple of drinks deep at the time, she had complimented your handbag and henceforth ignited a friendship closer to sisterhood. What kind of friend would you be to turn her down in her hour of need?

Quickly changing out of your comfy chick-flick-watching and popcorn-eating attire into something revealing a little more skin, you let your hair down from your claw clip and gave it a once over with a brush. You pulled on your rite of passage cowboy boots, already sensing the shriek that would erupt from Daisy's core when she saw the fringed boots paired with your little denim mini skirt. Another thing you loved about her was how similar she was to girls back home; a true girl's girl through and through. You had spent countless late nights on one another's front porches with a bottle (or two) of wine, philosophizing over the smallest and largest dilemmas all twenty-something women toss and turn over. The future, becoming mothers some day, not becoming mothers, the next episode of The O.C., careers, husbands, whether you’d ever grow to like the taste of red wine.

A car horn beeped once outside prompting you to grab your handbag and skip out the door to the passenger's side.

"Oh, honey. Let's have a moment for the boots! Y'ready to bring this city to its knees?" Daisy giggled as you jumped in.

"Baby, you know I always am,” you chirped in your bordering offensive attempt at a Southern drawl. “So, what's this guy's name again?"

"Mark. Fancy, huh? He's in my lab group. Sometimes when we're measuring out cobalt chloride hexahydrate I look at his big strong hands and think good grief man would'ya just take me on the work bench?"

"You're preaching to the choir here, sister." You laugh. Only Daisy could say the most academic and intelligent thing in one breath to then utter some unhinged depravity in the next.

"Soooo," she longed out, taking turns looking at you and then the road and then back at you again.

"Dais, don't even-"

"How's Mr. Miller?"

You throw your head back in the same manner Sarah used to when you first knew her; when Joel would tell her to get ready for bed so that he could break open a bottle of whiskey after a long evening of barbecuing.

"He's fine, as he always is when you ask."

"Sureee. He not tried the I don't have any cash on me to pay you for looking after my kid... but I could pay you another way yet?"

"It's so not like that and you know it. Plus I don't ask him to pay me to babysit Sarah." You muttered the last part, slightly embarrassed to admit that you spent so much time with the Millers purely out of enjoyment.

"What! You're always at their damn place watching his kid while he fucks some recently divorced suburban mom."

"You think he fucks them?" You ask, with a little too much rawness to your tone.

"Oh honey, this ain't good for you. You're smitten for the bastard."

"Can we talk about something else? This is making me depressed." You forced a laugh at the patheticness of your situation. More often than not, you had to sternly remind yourself that Joel was a divorced, single father, ten years your senior, who certainly didn't share your pining for him. He had responsibilities; he was too busy to deal with your little crush, being a father and all. You told yourself it was just you projecting onto him. Probably something with a Freudian explanation.

"Alright, alright. Let's talk about Mark's friend Elijah who I am certain is out with him tonight and would eat up the whole Kate Moss meets Minnie Driver thing y'have goin' on here."

"You're just referencing the only two British women you know other than me. Anyway, he better be handsome. You always stick me with the reject friend."

"Am not and do not!" Daisy laughed, shoving your shoulder as she pulled into the bar parking lot. "I'm leaving the car here overnight, wanna have a good couple drinks. You good to get a cab back to yours later?"

"Sure thing." You said.

"Who knows, we might even get lucky." Daisy winked at you, making her way toward the entrance, a sultry but sweet swing in her hips that only she could make look so effortless.

---

Elijah wasn't exactly your type. So, you decided to keep drinking until he somewhat was.

"You're not from round here, are ya?" He asked.

You widened your eyes in mock surprise at his intellectual summation. "What gave it away?" You said dryly, not really caring for an answer. It took moving out of England to realize alcohol simply made you more British. Or a sarcastic bitch, as some had put it.

"That accent for starters. Australia home for you, sweetness?"

It was going to be a long night.

"How did you guess!" You replied, slightly repelled by the misplaced enthusiasm plastered across his face.

"Well, myself I've never been to Australia, but I sure know my way 'round down under."

You half-choked on your sip of rum and coke, which Elijah seemed to take as a win.

"Dear Lord. That's really, um, something! I need to nip to the loo. Be back in a sec." You grabbed your bag and made for the bathroom, which was temptingly close to the back exit. Weighing up your options, you decided that you couldn't leave Daisy alone with two men in the middle of the city and settled with the bathroom.

Right on cue, she bustled in behind you shrieking your name.

"For a second there I thought you were gonna leave me all by my lonesome." She shouted over the bathroom stall.

"For a second there, so did I."

"Oh come on, he's not that bad."

You flushed the toilet and flung the door open to her standing nose-to-nose with the door.

"A Soviet gulag wouldn't be that bad compared to him." You retorted, moving to wash your hands. "He's a pig! He felt up my arse twice before we even sat down."

"Okay, so - he's handsy! You haven't been gettin' much action recently, anyway. Take it as a compliment?" You turned to give Daisy a look you knew she would choose to ignore. "Please, honey. They're having a little get-together back at their apartment and I would feel so much better if you came along. It's by campus, so you don't even need to worry about missin' class tomorrow."

Once again, you felt like channeling pre-teen Sarah, fighting the urge to stomp your feet at Daisy's request. As per usual, her big pleading eyes wore down your defenses. It was so obvious she was the youngest child in her family sometimes.

"Fine. But you owe me." She squealed at your response, hugging you and kicking one knee in the air.

"Anythin', honey. A lung, even! Mark has ordered an Uber and promised there's plenty'a liquor at his place. Let's go!"

You rolled your eyes realizing the Uber had been booked before the two of you had discussed your plans.

As you walked towards the boys, who sat with their jackets already on and big grins spread across their stupid faces, your mind wandered to Joel. You wondered if he had ever brought one of his dates to a bar like this. Maybe he had taken their jacket, hung it on the coat rack, and returned to her to ask so, what you drinkin'? He would wave his hand when she offered to pay for a round or if she reached for her purse. You wondered if he ever tried his luck, touching a knee against hers underneath the table. Whether he leaned in for a kiss, or put a hand on her thigh in the cab home.

You wondered if Joel ever noticed the way your breathing sped up when he put an arm around you after a couple of drinks, or how you would blush when he paid you the odd compliment. Did he ever notice the extra skin on show when the Texas heat made dressing semi-modestly for babysitting duties impossible? Or when you would lounge around the back garden in your bikini with Sarah? Did he catch a glimpse of you in skimpy outfits and heels running from your front door to various cars or cabs, or when you would sneak back at 6am on Sunday mornings clutching the heels? The dynamic between you and Joel felt so stilted sometimes. At times, it felt as though he was holding a part of himself back. Like he was always on the cusp of telling you something, but simultaneously fighting a battle between his tongue and his head to divulge any piece of himself to you.

But other times, he didn't. Since he'd first reached out that Friday at your front door, he had never failed to be there for you. When it was the flu or homesickness, Joel was there. Last summer, you had been especially missing your grandmother's homemade tiramisu, so had scoured the local bookstores for a Nigella Lawson recipe book and made you one with Sarah. The lady finger biscuits were so soggy they had disintegrated and the taste of amaretto was too much for even you, but you cried when he brought it over, the dish covered in a bumblebee dish towel. In the colder weather, he had fixed your boiler and defrosted your pipes. And whenever he passed a fresh produce store, he would bring you figs and watermelons to remind you of your summers in Europe. When you were in the thick of writing your thesis, Joel brought you a plate of whatever he and Sarah were having for dinner, knowing fully well that you would neglect your own dinnertime to meet deadlines. Joel didn't need to thank you for helping him out with Sarah, or whatever he had meant earlier, he was always thanking you in his own little way.

"Uber's here!" Mark's exclamation brought you out of your haze. You felt a hand on your lower back, Elijah was guiding you out of the bar not-so-courteously. You couldn't help but sigh at the disparity between your daydreams about Joel and the reality of your so-called love life.

"I'm not that drunk." You muttered under your breath, hoping you were loud enough for him to get the hint. If he did hear, he didn't act upon it.

Bundling into the car, Mark sat in the front seat, and you between Daisy and Elijah.

"D'ya like her boots, Elijah?" Daisy asked sweetly, leaning across you.

"They're real nice. Would look much nicer on my floor though." Daisy squeezed your thigh as if to say don't say a word.

"They'll look even better flying towards your head." You retorted, ignoring her.

"Oh, don't mind her! She's got that famous British sense of humor."

"Well, lucky she's so damn pretty, ain't it?" Elijah responded, making your stomach turn slightly at his unrelenting forwardness.

Mark announced that you had arrived, and everyone spilled out of the car in a stupor. You were drunker than you thought.

Between Elijah lingering around you like a bad smell, Daisy and Mark feeling each other up on the sofa, and the ever-looming presence of your 9am, you decided to call it a night a little over an hour into the impromptu after-party.

"Feel free to crash in my flatmate's room rather than pay for a cab home." Mark offered. "Think I'm gonna call it a night too, kinda tired myself."

"Oh, yes! You should stay, she has class early in the morning so it only makes sense." Daisy chimed in, clinging to Mark's arm. You could only assume she also planned on staying the night, but didn't have time to answer before Mark spoke again.

"Well then, it's settled. Down the hall and first door on your left. Make yourself at home."

You were too exhausted to argue, so made your way per Mark's instructions, ignoring Elijah's puppy dog look at you leaving him high and dry. You kicked off your boots but clambered underneath the duvet with your clothes still on. The walk of shame to class tomorrow will be just great, you thought. Popping two co-codomal tablets out of your bag, you swallowed them with a glass of water from the nightstand, entirely uncaring of how long it had been sat there. You needed all the help you could get for some proper rest on the hard mattress and single, flat pillow.

The apartment fell silent soon after, aside from a few recognizable giggles and the unmistakable slam of a bedroom door. Pills finally beginning to take effect, you had started to doze off with little resistance until the bedroom door creaked open.

"Daisy?" You muttered groggily, rubbing your eyes to make out the figuring closing the door behind them. "Is everything okay?"

"It's me." The unexpected masculine voice made you lurch into a seated position, recognizing it as Elijah in the dimly lit room.

"I thought you went home." You spoke, trying to sound braver than you were feeling as the mattress dipped with his weight.

"How could I, when I knew you were in here waiting for me." Your muscles froze.

"Look - I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm sorry, I really need to get up early. I didn't mean to lead you o..."

You were cut off by his lips clashing against yours, cutting your upper lip against your front teeth. His arms were leaning on either side of you, caging you in his embrace as your cries for him to stop went muffled and unheard. Elijah's weight shifted, moving his body on top of yours, trapping you entirely underneath him. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Even if you wanted to try to push him off, your body had gone utterly lifeless in panic.

"You'll like it, sweetheart. Don't be so damn uptight." You felt sick. Your skirt was around your hips from the struggle between his body and the mattress, you were separated from him by only your panties.

He reached his hand down to palm himself through his jeans, which thanks to his undignified alcohol consumption throughout the night, was to no avail. Growing frustrated with his body's lack of cooperation, his weight on you relaxed and you took your chance to tumble out from under him.

"Where the hell are you going?" You grabbed your handbag in a haze and darted out of the door, his shouts after you growing quieter by the second.

As soon as you were out of the building, you rested your hands on your knees and emptied your stomach onto the pavement. You dreaded to think what you looked like; skirt hitched high up your thighs, no doubt mascara pouring down your cheeks, face inches away from your own vomit. You also didn't care. Silent sobs racked through your body as you tried to guide your trembling hands through your handbag to retrieve your phone. Messily scrolling down your contact list, your heart stopped at the letter J. It was the early hours of the morning, but you knew he kept his phone on during the night in case Tommy ever needed bail money.

"Hello?" His gruff voice had never sounded so sweet, the instantaneous relief that washed over your body almost brought you to your knees.

"Joel, I-I'm so sorry to call so late. It's me. Something... something's happened."

"Where are you?"

You stumbled to the nearest main road, searching for street signs. The sun was beginning to rise. You thought you might be sick again.

"West 22nd and Guadalupe." You touched a finger tentatively to your lip, not realising it had been pumping blood down your chin and onto your chest.

"You stay there, I'll be there in 15."

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .2

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom and noelle have dinner together

word count: 3572

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

The first few weeks should've been easy, at least that's what one would've thought entering a faculty of acting. But the fact was out of the eighteen kids in Tom's classes, ironically a lot of them were very shy. Oh sure, you had the stand out performers; the 'put your spotlight on me' students whose bravado followed them even off the stage.

Not to mention the workload was quite overwhelming at first. Very quickly Tom found himself staying up late into the night, reading papers and excerpts from a handful of philosophers and authors that discussed everything from the precariousness of religion to ethical questioning of the modern nouveau. A couple of his classmates complained amongst themselves about how boring and dry the readings could be, and some were definitely more bland than others. Though when his roommate, Sunny, began his evening warm ups and practice Tom found the urge to dive in came so naturally. It just didn't come in handy when he was going into the early morning hours.

Sunjit, or Sunny as he preferred to be called, was an Indian native who'd grown up in Manchester. He figured Doris roomed them together simply for the fact that they were both English. And Noelle was right when she said he was a ray of sunshine; every little problem or obstacle they came across, be it commuting in the city or their arduous work load, Sunny always had a more optimistic disposition about everything. It was refreshing, and he and Tom became fast friends.

He had also been quite taken with Noelle, the ballet student just a year ahead of him. She was a year younger than him but had been accepted into her faculty a year ago. He'd see her around on the campus, usually flocked by her dancer friends in their joggers, leotards and slick buns. And when she caught his eye, even for a fleeting moment, she never hesitated to wave hello. Sometimes they'd catch up together in the hall or on their way to school. Noelle had travelled all the way down from Maine and she'd never been anywhere outside of the East coast, so suffice to say she had a few questions about England; the people, the weather patterns, if he'd ever witnessed one of the queen's convoy or her corgis. He quickly learned corgis were her favourite dog. Her questions, especially the sillier ones, always made him smile.

This particular Thursday had been rough. Sunny didn't have class today so he spent up until 2am practicing his tremolos, legatos, and all the other chords Tom didn't half understand. As a result, he slept in enough to just miss his bus, thus he was late to class. As if that wasn't bad enough, because he had been in such a rush he forgot his notes on his readings at the loft. That had certainly gone over well when his professor -- a well studied and prolific expert on the material -- called on him to give him opinions. It didn't quite go over as well as he'd hoped.

He also had a bit of a jump scare when he checked his bank account and the funds were dwindling. Expenses in New York were truly nothing to laugh about. And despite his mum's assurances that she'd send him the money he'd need, Tom knew it was in his best interest to get a job to help keep up. Where though remained to be seen.

Suffice to say dragging himself up the stairs after school was his mountain of a molehill. At least the lobby was quiet, not even Doris was at her desk to watch soap operas and eat her burnt popcorn. So he sat on the steps, exhaling heavily through his nose, trying to will away the headache that was tapping away to be let in. It had only been two weeks, and already Tom was exhausted.

He didn't so much as bat an eye or look up when he heard the door swing open. He did however open his eyes when he heard footsteps come his way, and he looked up to find Noelle staring down at him. Her hair was still tied slick, loose strands hanging from her ears, with her jeans pulled up over her leotard. Her big brown eyes were soft, complimenting the small gape between her lips as she watched him curiously; an overall calming and ethereal presence.

"Hey," she smiled kindly, rocking back and forth in her mis-matched converse.

"Hi," Tom grinned, moving to shift from his position, "Sorry, you probably need to get by,"

"Don't worry. Are you alright?" she simpered, "You look like you got woken up by one of Wallace's cracking contraptions,"

Tom bore a smile back, shrugging dismissively, "Yeah, I'm alright. It's been a long day," he replied.

"Tell me about it," she took a seat next to him, letting her bag slump to the floor, "First time today I've been off my feet,"

"What time did you start today?"

"Seven am,"

"Ouch,"

Noelle shrugged, "I'm used to it by now. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing but..." she trailed off with a bashful giggle, her eyes still laced with concern, "Do you wanna' talk about it?"

"No, it's fine," he shook his head, "It's just been a lot, you know?"

"Hey I get it, the first couple of weeks are hell. Only by the time Christmas rolls around you feel like you're finally getting a handle on everything," she reached around to pull her elastic from her hair, shaking her head as her long hair fell around her shoulders, "You were picked out of over 2000 applications, only to be accepted into a class of not even twenty people. That's not something to scoff at,"

Tom chuckled, "You got a point," he glanced at her, "You look like you've got it all figured out, though," he said.

"Well, it sure didn't take overnight," she grinned, "Even now -- sometimes I realize I've forgotten my toe pads when I'm on the bus and if I'm late then I'll be drawn and quartered,"

"That doesn't sound pleasant," he simpered back.

"It's a living," she shrugged back, glancing up at the stairwell behind them. She then looked over at the desk, confirming that Doris wasn't at the desk. She then turned to him, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," he nodded.

"Alrighty then," Noelle stood and slung her back over her shoulder, "I'm making dinner,"

Tom was taken aback at first, after all, he barely knew her well enough, "Oh, I don't wanna' make trouble for you," he said.

Noelle shook her head, "Oh please, it's no trouble at all," she assured.

"Isn't your roommate home?"

"She's working right now, won't be home for a bit," she extended her hand to him, "You coming or no?"

Regardless of his reservations, Tom took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. Standing up he realized she towered over him as she stood on the second step. Noelle seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Damn, is this what it's like to be tall?" she raised her hand level to the top of her head, bringing it forward over the gap atop his own head.

Tom chuckled amusedly, "Savour it while you can," he took the step up and sure enough he towered over her again. Noelle simply rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless as she lead him upstairs.

Noelle's loft was as cozy and warm as she was, the pale walls were bathed in the soft glow of lamps and the fairy lights strung up along the low ceiling. And one of them had an affinity for succulents, there were a plethora of tiny pots scattered across shelves and window sills. That wasn't to say the place was pristine, though; there were some loose jackets tossed over chairs and shoes piled up at the door. The kitchenette mirrored his own, only the pile of plates and utensils in the drying rack proved it was used way more than his own was.

Tom took a seat at the dining table, curious as he watched Noelle pull out packets of instant noodles, some eggs, and vegetables from her fridge. He offered to help where he could but she assured him she had it all under control. Ten minutes later she had two bowls of upgraded instant ramen at the ready.

The dining table only had four chairs, pressed up against a window with a faint view of the city. Tom was pleasantly surprised with Noelle's cooking, it was the first home cooked meal he'd had since arriving, and it was the tastiest dinner he'd enjoyed in a long time.

"Do you like it?" she asked between bites.

"It's fantastic!" he awed, tilting his head, "I'm also happy to find nothing's burnt,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. It was one time," she giggled, "I've been cutting back on my noodle intake, but when I can't be bothered to stand at the stove for long I break 'em out,"

"Hey, a meal's a meal, sometimes nutrition is overrated," he replied, "And they're cheap, too,"

"That's a nice perk," she nodded, "If you want cheap groceries, Paddy's down the street is great. So long as you get there before 9am, that's when the nonnas go in and squeeze the shit out of the tomatoes and bread,"

"That's nice to know. Thank you," he sipped from his water glass, "Do you work, too?"

Noelle nodded, "Weekends at Frames. I slice pizza for the bowlers," she replied, "Sometimes my boss lets me take home some of the canned tomatoes if we didn't sell out,"

Tom hummed, "Is that what I'm tasting here?" he asked curiously.

She smiled, "Yeah! The spice is gochujang,"

"It's fantastic, Noelle," he replied, "Have you always liked to cook?"

"My aunt taught me how -- and my uncle served as the proverbial guinea pig," she said.

He cocked a brow, "You lived with your aunt and uncle?" he asked.

Noelle stopped mid-chew, realizing she'd let her tongue slip, "Yeah, my parents weren't really around. It's a bit of a long story," she shrugged back.

Tom swallowed heavily, "I -- I didn't mean to impose on you like that, I'm sorry,"

"Oh my gosh, don't be sorry!" she assured, "I mean -- my mom had some substance issues and my dad... well, we don't know where he went. So my aunt and uncle were named my legal guardians," her voice trailed off, bordering on dejection with every word she recounted.

Tom stopped at that, his heartstrings tugging but his curiosity nevertheless peaked. That being said he kept his questions at bay, he didn't want to offend or trigger her, especially being in her own space.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But you liked living with them?" he asked.

Noelle nodded, "They're wonderful people. I probably wouldn't have auditioned for Julliard in the first place if they hadn't encouraged me," she replied.

"How long have you been dancing for?" he asked, finding an out for new conversation.

"Since I was ten years old. I thought it might've been too late because everybody else usually starts at age three, but... here I am," she smiled back.

"Here you are," he smiled back, "And obviously you're very good if you've made it,"

"I suppose you have a point," she simpered, twirling her fork in her bowl absentmindedly, "Well, what about you, Tom?"

"What about me?" he asked.

She shrugged bashfully, "Did you like growing up in England?"

"As compared to the places I couldn't grow up in?" he simpered back, "I did. My parents split up when I was younger but I had a good relationship with both of them,"

"What do your parents do?" she asked.

"My mum's a counsellor in an employment office, and my dad was a show producer," he replied, "You ever hear of Emmerdale?"

Noelle shook her head, "Can't say I have. But that's pretty cool, though!" she said, "Is that how you got into acting?"

"Kind of. My mum signed me up for a youth theatre group to keep me busy -- awakened something in me I guess," he grinned sheepishly.

"I see. And is your dad still working in tv?"

Tom shook his head, the corners of his lips falling, "No, he passed about six years ago,"

Noelle nearly dropped her fork, quite taken aback though nonetheless she wanted to be respectful, "My God. I'm so sorry. How old were you?"

"Fourteen," he shrugged back solemnly, "It's alright, though. We're all making out okay,"

"Yeah but -- I can't imagine that could've been easy --" she stopped herself suddenly, becoming flustered, "I'm sorry, I know it's super personal and it's none of my business,"

"No, it's alright," he assured her, "Life's pretty fucked up sometimes, but we have to keep moving forward is all,"

Noelle nodded slowly, "You're right; and you made it here, after all. I think your dad's very proud of you," she replied.

Tom smiled, hoping the lighting was low enough that she wouldn't pick off the tinting in his cheeks. Taking a sip from his glass was the only natural response he could muster before uttering a quiet 'thank you'.

"I'm sure your family's quite proud of you too, Noelle," he said, "Anyway, enough sad stuff,"

"Good," Noelle huffed, jokingly rolling her eyes, "It was starting to get wishy washy in here,"

He simpered under his breath, "Alright. What are your plans when you graduate?" he asked.

Noelle rested her chin in her hand, smiling with giddy, "To get a spot at New York Ballet. They're the American equivalent of the Russian Ballet," she replied.

"Beautiful," Tom mired.

"What about you?"

"Go audition for a movie or two, I guess," he chuckled simply, "Hope and pray I don't fuck it up,"

"Have you worked on any productions before?" she asked curiously.

"A couple here and there. Mostly small parts. I just finished a short film over the summer, though," he replied.

"No kidding! What's it about?" she had both elbows on the table now, leaning in closer as though he would share a secret.

His smile widened, "My character's an aspiring journalist who stumbles upon this gang who like to take rounds in a tumble dry machine for kicks,"

Noelle's eyes went wide, her shoulders caved forward as she recoiled at the thought, "Jesus -- really? Tell me this wasn't based off --"

"A true story? I'm afraid so," he confirmed, "The moral is about how journalism doesn't care about right or wrong as long as it captures their audience's attention,"

Her face twisted in a combination of horror and intrigue, the same way most people react when learning about a serial killer, "Lemme' guess: your character gets found out and thrown in the dryer?"

"You'll just have to watch the film to find out," he chuckled smartly.

She sighed dramatically, "Oh, you mean the torture of having to physically sit and watch a movie? Unspeakable torture," she teased.

Tom playfully rolled his eyes, "If you can withstand Don't Breathe for an hour and something, I think you can withstand this,"

"I'll take your word for it," she simpered, "Do you want to move to Hollywood after you graduate?"

Tom pondered it for a moment; the thought had struck him numerous times but he was on the fence about it. The racket, the chaos, it was such a stark 180 contrast compared to England. And perhaps that was why New York struck the perfect balance with familiar inklings of home.

But hey, there would always be sunshine...

"I'm not sure. I might go back to England, we have a pretty strong film industry over there. Or maybe I'll stay here?" he wondered aloud, glancing out the window, "Obviously, you'd like to stay in the city?"

Noelle nodded happily, "I would, but I'd also love to do some travelling. Farthest I've been outside of Maine was Disney World in Florida. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled bashfully, "Maybe I'll come visit you in Birmingham one day?"

"I'd like that," he beamed back, "We'll wait out in front of Buckingham Palace and try and spot the queen's corgis,"

"Oh my goodness! Don't threaten me with a good time!" she teased back.

Their chatter died down when they heard the lock click, both of them looking over to find Bianca, Noelle's roommate, sauntering in. Another petite girl, she had vibrant blonde hair hanging loose and tousled past her shoulders, soft Bambi eyes that were tired and glazed, and her checkout uniform was wrinkled and warped as the fabric caught in her jacket. She was strikingly beautiful, the epitome of a blonde bombshell.

She stopped short when she saw Tom and Noelle, perplexed but nonetheless fronting a smile as she dropped her bag into a corner. She tossed her jacket over the back of the couch, sauntering over with her hands buried in her back pockets.

"Hey! What's going on over here?" she asked, looking curiously between the pair.

"We're commiserating about life over ramen," Noelle replied, extending her hand out to Tom, "Tom, this is Bianca. Bianca, this is Tom. He lives across the hall,"

"Nice to meet you," Tom smiled politely at her, nevertheless he had he feeling he was a mouse within the eye line of a cat.

"Likewise. You go to Julliard?" she asked.

"I'm an acting major," he nodded.

Bianca raised her brows, "That's awesome! Well I hope you make it," she turned on her heel and started for the fridge, "Do we still have that buttered broccoli?" she asked Noelle.

"Second top shelf on the left" Noelle replied.

Bianca gave an quiet, victorious 'ah ha' as she pulled a container out from the fridge, then fished for a fork from the drawer, "If you guys don't mind I'll bid you adieu," she gave a small bow, "I have a date with my bed,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "Honey, put the broccoli in the microwave at least," she said.

"Don't worry, it's fine!" Bianca waved her off, "Don't have too much out here!" and with that she sauntered down the hall, a slam of a door followed after.

Tom nodded, glancing curiously at Noelle as she just shook her head, "I promise she's usually nicer than that," she huffed.

"It's okay," Tom replied, "She looks like she had a long day,"

"She works at the grocery store,"

He cocked a brow, "So you're both on your feet all day, basically," he noted.

"It's a living," Noelle shrugged listlessly, "We do what we have to to get by,"

"I hear that," Tom glanced over at her empty bowl, reaching over to take it along with his as he stood up. "Here, let me,"

"What? No!" Noelle protested, "I can do that!" she moved to get up as well.

"Hey, it's the least I can do! You've been on your feet all day, and you cooked dinner for me!" he replied.

"Tom..." she darted to his side by the sink. He nearly reached out to touch her shoulder but hesitated, mindful of not overstepping any boundaries too quickly. It was then the pair realized how close they stood in proximity to each other, closer than what young strangers should've been. He could pick out the black diamond flecks in her irises, the faint freckles across her cheeks, the subtle but sweet notes of apple and bergamot that wafted under his nose. And the indent of an old piercing scar under her bottom lip.

"I got it, Noelle," he assured her kindly, willing himself to focus.

Noelle rolled her eyes, she knew she had a tendency to be stubborn but she could tell she'd met a match in Tom. She glanced at the soaking pot in the sink, already having made up her mind as she reached for it.

"Lemme' get this in the dishwasher at least," she decided.

"Fine," he conceded, stepping back to give her room.

Noelle huffed as she put the pot away, glancing at him over her shoulder, "What's your sign?" she asked suddenly.

His brow furrowed, "My sign?"

"Your zodiac," she clarified, "Like I'm a Gemini,"

"Ah," he nodded, "Um -- Aquarius,"

Noelle chuckled, "Damn, you're just as stubborn as me. And here I was thinking you'd be a pushover... I'm joking, by the way," she quickly clarified.

"Your dripping sarcasm wasn't evident of that?" he teased back. Before she could get a word in to protest, he placed the bowls in the sink and made a grab for the dish soap.

"Thank you," Noelle finally conceded, "Do you mind if I go get changed?"

"Not at all," he glanced behind his shoulder with a satisfied grin, "I'll be here,"

Noelle collected her bag off the floor and started for her room, pausing at the mouth of the hall and taking another look behind her. Tom was none the wiser to her silent presence, his back turned to her while his broad shoulders lifted and fell with each move he made. He had this unassumingness about him at first glance, she wouldn't necessarily pick him out from a crowd but if she knew to look for him she wouldn't have a problem. And when he smiled, little wrinkles formed at the corner of his bright eyes, clear blue eyes a sharp contrast to his pale complexion.

She turned swiftly on her heel and skittered down the hall, coming to the odd realization that she had never paid any mind to the drama department -- at least, not until now...

[rozaceous]

tcba ch 26 outline

sasuke pov. once again, draft is an outline, and this was written before i wrote out ch 24, so there might be some redundancies

also includes how i was going to end the ch

getting back to ame post-summit

pein/konan: you stirred things up but failed in your mission. not a single dead kage between you?

sasuke: if you want something done the way you want, do it yourself

interrupted w tobi on how they're bolstering akatsuki's numbers

zetsu's recruited kabuto so uh, hey senpai lol

and wow the tension between konan+pein and tobito can be cut w a knife

deidara and kisame out doing their thing to catch the other jinchuuriki, have used the summit as distraction to sneak in, they aren't back yet

so a clear 3 factions

pein and konan treat mariko and sasuke as tobito's toadies since they were recruited on his insistence, kabuto is assoc w mariko

but kabuto is there for the eye of the moon plan to come to fruition, make a clone army or something something w the use of edo tensei

mariko keeping mum on that one since she's not sure how much of kabuto being here is him thinking that it sounds like a genuinely good idea that he's committed to following through, and how much is him being along for the ride

sasuke can hardly call him a betrayer or whatever since he joined the same cause they did, but still feels gross

also he knows that tobito is 'madara' and the continued deception is irritating

so 'wtf is the eye of the moon plan' has to be explained, itachi explained it some but he wants to hear it form tobito besides not really being able to say that itachi told them already since they supposedly killed him

prev encounter w just pein and konan acting as directive was focused on the tyranny of the great nations and the flaws of shinobi society, so even tho he's aware that this is a thing it still feels extremely out of left field

so obviously this is bullshit and the skepticism will not stay out of his voice

and if it's tobi explaining this all, then it's super natural for him to then turn to konan and pein and "y'all good with this?" and immediately prod at the inherent tension dividing them, esp since deidara and kisame aren't there to buffer

and man it's like farting in a quiet room: pein and konan politely ignoring that there is this divide in the leadership and tobito and zetsu not wanting to exacerbate anything

tobito to sasuke: this is the only way to assure that there is peace

sasuke: by shoving everyone into a genjutsu against their will and giving them all their wildest dreams as an illusion? until what, everyone dies in the real world? until they starve to death? or is it only that chakra users would be sustained by the combined chakra of the jinchuuriki? or is that chakra store used up just by catching everyone in the genjutsu to begin with? are people's comatose bodies just getting eaten by wild animals or what's up with this logistically?

basically this is a load of unsubstantiated waffle, sasuke was taught genjutsu by orochimaru, who tho lacking in a doujutsu was premier at them and understood them on a technical level that's beyond virtually everyone else

also sasuke: your plan is shit, the whimsical thinking of children, and i'm not interested in a pretense of peace, i'm interested in justice

and mariko is totally down with this as a distinction (lowkey is doing an internal fistpump bc what a cool line bro and what a worthwhile philosophical delineation)

this is less internal than she thinks, can't quite keep a straight face

tobito maybe asking if mariko has a similar modus operandi

mariko: sasuke and i are a team

"i see"

sasuke: "does this mean we can stop this entire farce now, tobi" maybe that he's been looking for him, why was itachi so committed to him having the mangekyo/implication that he would need it

pein laughing, like "he's got you there"

kabuto is just ready to bust out the popcorn, now this is intrigue

so woo woo the dark chuckle, ahaha yes i am madara, your forebear

mariko: hm doubt (but also wtf i guess we're going w confrontation after all, have to destabilize this dude as much as i can if i want any hope of living thru the aftermath, but i guess also let's set him against konan and pein)

which sort of is sasuke's play, if there's a divide in intent here then it's prime time to force this confrontation since there's a chance of getting pein and konan to either stand down or join in, and deidara and kisame aren't present to act as other variables to control (kabuto is a non-issue in his brain no matter which way he falls lmao)

and this would catch konan and pein's attention bc they have been operating under the assumption that he is madara, or at least not otherwise caring

so mariko whips out: you're uchiha obito, aren't you

sasuke wondering how they went from 'obito's right eye never reclaimed/his body never found' to 'obito lived and is evil now' but willing to go along w it bc he trusts her instincts/she's rarely wrong in his experience/even if she is wrong, she's saying it for a purpose

can shun sense the zetsu movement? if yes then it's helpful if he's present for this whole discussion/debrief

confrontation

pein and konan staying out of it/focus is on containment (wouldn't let zetsu run off, but not fighting unless they're attacked first)

mariko+kabuto fighting zetsu vs sasuke fighting obito

attempts to slice and dice him fall thru bc he just reforms

mariko: fire it is!

sasuke struggling w the intangibility combo'd w the (essentially) teleportation, mariko needing more juice

they switch off

and ofc kabuto and sasuke look at each other like 'ugh, this guy again' but needs must or whatever

sasuke able to get his fire jutsu hot enough to scorch the plant goo? or lightning something, idk

how do they even kill him in canon

after sufficient chakra expenditure, sasuke released orochimaru

mariko had been trying to save chakra in order to use kotoamatsukami and letting sasuke be the heavy hitter

was planning to whammy obito but has to use it on orochimaru?

the rest of team7 arrives amidst this chaos

ofc adding kakashi to this particular psychological bender of obito's is always a good idea

mariko: shit, bc she'd been meaning to take care of obito (reform or otherwise) so shishou wouldn't have to

basically things conclude so that:

pein and konan go on their merry way ruling ame, disillusioned, talk no jutsu'd, whatever

obito reformed??? whatever. basically sasuke takes his remaining sharingan as a way of saying he's not worthy of having it (clan shit) and kakashi essentially defects from konoha to be his babysitter/seeing eye dog

orochimaru dead

zetsu dead

kabuto affirmed to stick w mariko (she may do some move to save him? debatable)

naruto not going back to konoha, but also feels estranged from his teammates (except sai lol). he still doesn't get why mariko did what she did/can't really grapple w her killing ppl, and he doesn't quite jive w sasumari's plan to destabilize the shinobi village system (tho it's a bit more subtle than that? idk). i think he ends up as sort of a nomad and hanging out w gaara a lot

sasumari 4evah lol

have no idea what i'm doing to tie in ROOT stuff, but there's a thought there?

need to regroup w team hebi and itachi

itachi and kisame can have their bromance reunion lol

idk abt deidara, hm

how i was going to end the ch:

Mariko leans into him and Sasuke's knees give way, the two of them toppling to the ground in a messy sprawl, exhausted. His whole body is shaking with it. She pushes herself off of him just enough so that she's not crushing him, and the laugh she breathes out trembles. A cut on her cheek is still bleeding. "So," she says. "What's next?"

[txttletale]

socialism: elysian and scientific

[whispering to you in a movie theater in between mouthfuls of salted caramel popcorn--other moviegoers who just want to watch we bought a zoo (2011) are glaring at us but i don’t care]

so in 1880 friedrich engels wrote a snappy little number called ‘socialism: utopian & scientific’. it’s a foundational marxist text and one i’d recommend to everybody--and i think some of the ideas in it are incorporated and built on in disco elysium in really interesting ways.

socialism: utopian & scientific does a few things. first, it lays out the ideas of the 18th century utopian socialists and explains the societal context in which they developed their ideas--and the core idea of the dialectic development of ideas. engels harshly critiques the enlightenment's conception of the history of thought as a history of individual thinkers attempting to capture an eternal, immutable corpus of truth and justice--he describes this worldview thusly (emphasis mine):

What was wanted was the individual man of genius, who has now arisen and who understands the truth. That he has now arisen, that the truth has now been clearly understood, is not an inevitable event, following of necessity in the chains of historical development, but a mere happy accident. He might just as well have been born 500 years earlier, and might then have spared humanity 500 years of error, strife, and suffering.

and of course it jumped out to me playing disco elysium that this is exactly how human development works the world of elysium--innocences are singularly world-changing individuals who personally establish systems and ideologies within their lifetimes:

dolores dei in particular is a pretty clear synechdoche (both narratively and, because of how innocences work, diegetically) for the bourgeois revolutions of the enlightenment--her followers, the moralists, are clearly analogous to the real-world post-enlightenment liberal international system. the “kingdom of conscience”, is, i think, also a pretty heavy-handed reference to engels’ sardonic use of the “kingdom of reason” to describe the empty promises of the 18th century bourgeois revolutions:

Now, for the first time, appeared the light of day, the kingdom of reason; henceforth superstition, injustice, privilege, oppression, were to be superseded by eternal truth, eternal Right, equality based on Nature and the inalienable rights of man.

so--moralists are liberals, that’s not exactly groundbreaking. the innocentic system is a literalization of the metaphysical vision of the history of ideas--that’s interesting, but it doesn’t really say anything in and of itself. so let’s go a little deeper. if engels doesn’t think philosophers, are accessing a nebulous immaterial well of absolute truth, what does he think--well, he cites hegelian dialectics, a system he and marx develop into material dialectics and historical materialism. what the fuck are hegelian dialectics--well there’s a lot of really long fucking books that answer that, but let me just quote engels here:

In his system — and herein is its great merit — for the first time the whole world, natural, historical, intellectual, is represented as a process — i.e., as in constant motion, change, transformation, development; and the attempt is made to trace out the internal connection that makes a continuous whole of all this movement and developmen

hegel posits the history of mankind as the history of ideas evolving in concert with one another--the ideas of, say, the enlightenment weren’t just waiting in the aether during the age of feudalism, fully formed until some singular genius could grasp them--instead they are the product of the ideas before them interacting through the process of thesis-antithesis-synthesis. this is dialectics--the idea that progress broadly takes the form of contradicting forces generating a novel force through their interaction.

now, engels identifies one key flaw in hegel, which is that he’s still idealist--he is putting the ideas first in this historical model, positing them as drivers of history rather than products of it. engels then goes on to lay out the fundamentals of historical materialism, which is the application of dialectics to a material view of history--when engels says “all past history [...] was the history of class struggles”, this is what he means, that historical development is the process of the creation and resolution of contradictions between modes of production and exchange (how stuff gets made and who gets it and why).

[i take someone elses double gulp soda out of their hand and slurp it loudly, ignoring their obvious outrage]

okay that’s all cool but what does this have to do with beloved crpg disco elysium (2019)? well, for a start it takes a very distinctively historical materialist worldview when it comes to its own history--the history of revachol is very much the history of class struggle, from the revolution to the strike--and the idea that the elements from which future society will arise are already present with current society is a recurring theme:

the future is change--society is in motion, contradictions must resolve, the world is dialectic--and the moralists are in opposition to this, desperate to maintain the status quo, to maintain contradictions perfectly suspended forever. from the dialectic point of view, moralism in disco elysium is the quest for no future at all:

as engels explains, a dialectic view of history means that you need to understand the past if you want to understand the present, because the present is born from elements of the past:

From this point of view, the history of mankind no longer appeared as a wild whirl of senseless deeds of violence, all equally condemnable at the judgment seat of mature philosophic reason and which are best forgotten as quickly as possible, but as the process of evolution of man himself.

for the moralists, the past is something to be forgotten, cast aside for an eternal unchanging present. which is interesting because in disco elysium there happens to be a global world-threatening force which is forgetting the past: the god damn pale. the pale is the accumulation of all human history into something flat and meaningless, the detachment of history from its context--the pale is the future, past, and present not as dialectical continuum of cause and effect but as meaningless incoherent chatter. the pale is the moralist’s view of history made real global force--

--and it has the potential to destroy everything--

and this is what moralism is. engels says of metaphysical philosophy:

In the contemplation of individual things, it forgets the connection between them; in the contemplation of their existence, it forgets the beginning and end of that existence; of their repose, it forgets their motion. It cannot see the woods for the trees.

by understanding the world in repose, as a dead thing, moralism is killing it. by discarding the past it is creating a debt that can’t be repaid. and what brings this all together is this bit of information from the game’s concept art:

innocences create the fucking pale. what they’re doing, their immanentized personificaton of the kingdom-of-reason model of history, is destroying the future. very literally, the non-dialectic view of the status quo--the quest for the right ideas to ensure endless stagnant stillness--is killing the world. the man who killed dolores dei was right:

we were supposed to come up with this ourselves. so--all that done--what’s the point of this post? what do i think any of this proves, other than that i and the DE writers are fancy communists who read books? well, my read on it at least: the pale is the destruction of history for a purpose--because if we do not understand history, we will think we cannot change it. we will wait for the great people to do it for us--we will wait for them to invent a future to live in and we will wait until we die. we are supposed to come up with this ourselves. as engels says:

The possibility of securing for every member of society, by means of socialized production, an existence not only fully sufficient materially, and becoming day-by-day more full, but an existence guaranteeing to all the free development and exercise of their physical and mental faculties — this possibility is now, for the first time, here, but it is here.

liberalism tells us that the future is unknowable, untouchable, that all we can do is wait for it to arrive. socialism--and disco elysium--tell us that the future is here, now, that everything we need to build it ourselves is already in the world. the second hardest part of that is realizing it--the hardest part is doing it.

[i am dragged bodily out of the theater by my ankles, frantically snatching snacks out of other people’s hands as i go. for the road]

[quartzitess]

Alrighty! New itfts’s out time for me to theorize like alil idiot.

_________________________________ ’

Right now I'm starting to notice a pattern, especially for clocks character. From what I can see he's becoming more aware, more sentient, he's not a strange host like creature (ei. Algebraliens.))

And from what I can see, a small snippet of an alternate clock (who I will be addressing as obj c, for the sake of simplicity) setting up some popcorn, maybe sitting down at his couch, to watch a movie? To lounge about? To flip some channels.. and doze off, you know, avarage Sunday evening.

And at the end, as pointed out by user kyndal47 in the comment section of this episode, they point out the fact in the end we can see an image of clock, staring directly back at US, (that's if we bring up the brightness at 11:31, if you wanna see for yourself?)

My first theory is about clock, more specifically, obj c, we see at the end he's setting up some popcorn to lounge, and from what I can observe. During the elimination, we see green turn into a radio as he gets eliminated. If your alittle observer like me!

(Im lying, I literally had to turn on the captions on my second watch because my silly ass forgot too :b!)

You'd notice greens still saying something.

“- There IS no coming back”

“Well, just to philosophize Between two eternities, I realize”

“it’s just a dream,-”

“- and my advice”

“Is don't neglect to”

“have a nice-”

And it cuts off. Just like that.

“it’s just a dream” r. Green says, “ and my advice is don't neglect to have a nice.., it cuts off, I don't know about you but if I had to assume, I'd like to think the ending to that sentence would've been, have a nice dream.

Have a nice dream? Obj c is dreaming, dreaming of himself being “clock” being a strange host - like creature, and more evidence to support this theory!

We hear our blurred out polka say (in reverse, again thank you user kyndal47 for providing this info) she says “change the channel” multiple times, and followed after by “i can hold Everything together for only so long”.

So from what I can see this is a dreaming obj c, subconsciously flipping through channels, while dreamin’! And perhaps polkas in a sense, a key to those channels, as her “dots” are portals that lead to different dimensions! (aka, channels!)

The blurred out polka is almost a glitched/ altered version of polka that's also more aware? Awake in a sense, she's a small and compact card with dots and her dots are portals to different channels, different channels SHE keeps together (by holding Herself together!) Literally! But when we see her fly out of blurry dot she seems less aware? Almost like she forgot what she said.

Its like when she was brought back again, she forgot a part of who she was, I mean heck! The polka we see in show barely even knows where her portals lead too!

Maybe she's in a sense a direct reflection of the tv were possibly watching the show through? The box that holds everything together, the card with millions of channels complied into one, the channels being represented as “portals” she can let people go through.

And the fact what were watchings a strange midnight amalgamation of a dream where our barely conscious obj c sleepily flips through channels while still stuck in a dream? And yet he still neglects to have a sense of control or logic in what happens in it, he forgets what or why he's here for.

He neglected what it meant to have a nice dream.

(tl , dr)

Clock, (the sentient one we see at the end of itft is addressed as obj c) may or may not be in a dream and polka dot is the key to the channels (aka universes) as her dots are portals that teleport to different places, she's stated in the episode “i can hold everything together for only so long” as supporting the theory she may be a direct reflection of the tv we're watching itft through, and pretty much the entirety of itft is a dream that obj c is stuck in.

[fandoms--fluff]

Could you make a Josie Saltzman x fem reader we’re they celebrate readers birthday it may or my not be my birthday today

Film Extravaganza

Female reader x Josie Saltzman

Warnings: none

A/n: Happy Birthday, Lovely!❤

Moodboard

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

"Are we almost there- OW!" You yelp as you get run into the corner of a wall. "Sorry!" Josie exclaims, leading you're blindfolded self away from the wall and into the direction she meant to beforehand.

"And we'll be there in less than a minute" your girlfriend informs you. "Thank, God. No offense, but having you steer me around the school with a blindfold that smells like it hasn't seen the light of day in decades is not what I imagined how my birthday would be going this year" you say, making Josie chuckle.

"I know, but I wanted it to be a surprise" Josie tells you. She's been giddy all morning and everytime you asked, she quickly changed the subject and said 'you'll find out later'.

Now it's 'later', and you're finally going to see what Josie's been cooking up for who knows how long.

"Alright, we're here" Josie takes her hands off your shoulders from where she was steering you. You hear a door shut before reaching up to take the blindfold off. You pause though, "can I take this off?"

"Yes, of course" Josie answers excitedly.

You slip off the blindfold from your head and your gaze is immediately caught by the decorations and a whole indoor film set up with an old school projector and everything. The walls are decked out with fairy lights and balloons spelling happy birthday. There's even a whole popcorn machine from the 1960s in the corner. And trays of food, candy, and all the staple movie snacks set on the cozy fort space made up of pillows and blankets.

"You're joking" you finally turn to your girlfriend.

Her eyes widen, not knowing if that's a good or bad reaction from you, "..yes?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it in a bad way. I love it, baby, thank you!" You exclaim and envelope her into a hug. She returns it, wrapping her arms around your back and holding you close.

Once you guys pull away, you have the biggest smile on your face. "I'm glad you like it," Josie says with a goofy loving smile on her face.

"Like it? I love it" you wrap your hand against hers and lead her over to all the pillows and blankets set up in front of the projector. "This explains where all the extra blankets went from the room" you chuckle. "Yeah, it was harder than I thought to sneak all of them out without you catching on" she places a kiss on the side of your head.

"Thank you so much" you gaze into her eyes and give her a passionate kiss. "Anything for you. Happy birthday!" She nods you to sit, and you obey. While you get comfy into the set up, Josie walks to the projector and turns it on.

The projector starts up, the gears and wheels spinning the film. As Josie settles in next to you, the movie starts up, flashing onto the white sheet she put up on the wall.

While the opening credits of The Philosopher's Stone plays, you bring up a piece of red licorice and bite into it, "Mmm, I forgot how good these were" you moaned at the sweet taste of the candy. "Really? When was the last time you had them?" Josie asks, intrigued. You haven't told her much about your past, but she knows it's a touchy subject.

"Let's just say, it's been some torturous years." You bring up the licorice to her, and she takes a bite.

"You're right, this is really good. Better than the one Lizzie tried to get me to eat" Josie says after swallowing. "Let me guess, it was some healthy option with no sugar and tasted like crap?" You chuckle. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up" Josie nods while laughing.

While the opening credits come to an end, you turn to look into Josie's eyes. "This is the best birthday I've ever had, I love you so much" you softly tell her.

Her eyes light up, "I love you so much too" she places a kiss on your forehead and then on your lips.

You snuggle into her side, and she drapes her arm over your shoulders. You guys spend the movie and the rest of the day cuddled up and eating popcorn and candy.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Using phylogeny to horribly warp the definition of a fish, my favourite fish is probably the binturong (Although all procyonids are also incredible). There's just something great about a mid-sized feliform with a semi-prehensile tail and a smell of popcorn about it. Plus they sometimes look like haggard old men and it's fantastic. Using fish to mean things people classically refer to as fish, I love polypterids (Bichir) etc. I love the fact some of them can move around on land, I love how basal they are to all the other ray finned fish (Nothing against other ray finned fish, there's just something charming about lonely branches on the tree of life to me), I love their shapes, I love the fact reedfish/ropefish look like they're smiling. I love the fact they (and everyone walking past) will side eye me if I baby talk them at my nearest aquarist. A tier fish, one day I will live in a place large enough to have one.

Fine tetrapod and true fish choices! Bichirs are cool fish indeed, I don’t think I appreciate them enough for just how cool they are; they even have lungs!! I’ll need to research them a bit more, it’s clear, and spread bichir joy in the world.

Binturong joy, too. Unappreciated animals deserve recognition! Plus they literally look like this:

If the Muskrat from the Moomins wasn’t already a, you know, muskrat…. He should’ve been this. 100%. Perfect nihilistic philosopher.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Monsters under the bed

A/N: Promptober day 3, folks.

Prompt: Scary Movies

Warnings: None

----

"Daddy, daddy, wake up." Matty stirred in his sleep, groaning in response to his daughter's tiny, incessant fingers poking at his shoulder over and over.

"What is it baby? daddy's sleeping, can't this wait until morning?" he attempts to look at her, in the dark, one eye still closed.

she shakes her head timidly. "Daddy, I'm scared."

Matty's eyes shot wide open.

His wife, asleep beside him, seemed to awaken. she mumbled softly, "w-whats the matter?"

"Oh, nothing-" Matty pulled the duvet back over her. "you sleep, I've got her."

"you're a good husband, Matty Healy."

A guilty husband is what he was. A lying husband. Gently, he took his daughter's hand in his, tiptoeing around the room.

***

"One more story, please??" His daughter has definitely inherited his charm and big expressive eyes. And she made him weak.

"sweet girl, it's late. you need your sleep if you're gonna grow big, smart, and beautiful." Matty yawned, "and daddy is sleepy."

"Please, Daddyyyy." She tugged at his sleeves.

Matty had known that letting her watch that horror film with him and the boys was a mistake, but she'd begged so much. She'd seen the popcorn and chocolate. She'd heard them all giggling together. He wasn't going to banish her from uncle George's lap, to whom she'd clung for dear life. She was too cute to say no to. She'd even successfully kept it a secret from her mother.

"okay, one more, then its bedtime for sure. Promise?"

her whole face lit up, flashing him her mother's signature smile. "Promise."

***

"Daddy, wake up, I'm still scaaredddd." she whisper-yelled into Matty;s ear. Her hot breath against his skin startled him out of his slumber.

"Holy-" he bit his tongue to keep from waking his clueless wife. "why are you still awake, baby?"

"I- I think- I think the monster from the movie is in my room."

Matty's neck whipped to the side to check that his wife was still sound asleep at the word "movie."

This was no one's fault but his.

"Al-alright, baby."

***

"So- ghosts aren't real- so they can't be in my closet, or- or under the bed?" she echoed what he'd just taken pains to teach her, adding extra sprinkles to her ice cream bowl with each spoonful. Matty had taught her that knowing is the antidote to fear. Because he wanted her to know that things are a lot less scary when you know more about them. When he'd established that rule, he'd anticipated having to explain how swings worked, and why she wouldn't just fly off in them. Ghosts, however, were a trickier concept.

"exactly." Matty decided he'd indulge in some sprinkles too. "Besides, Daddy built this house from scratch. Its new. It can't be haunted. That- umm, house in the movie? it's really old, yeah."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"If ghosts aren't real, then where do we go after we die?"

He thought her question for a second, under-prepared for philosophical debates with a 5 year old at 3 AM. Ultimately, he decided it wasn't the right time for coffins underground, and flesh eating worms, and skeletons.

"after we die?" He put a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "we go on to live in the hearts of the people who love us. They keep us safe in their heart. We keep them company, so they're never alone. And they never forget us."

"Like your nana?" she reached over from the kitchen stool that she'd been perched on, tapping Matty's chest tattoo. "she lives in here. right?"

Matty's eyes glittered with pride. "that's right."

***

"Daddy? Daddy, wake up. Daddy I'm still scared of the fake ghost."

Matty was too exhausted to do this anymore. He scooted over in bed, lifting the blanket to make room for her. "c'mon, baby, hop in."

He turned over to his side, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. He'd have to explain this to his wife in the morning, but for now, he would savor the opportunity to keep his baby girl safe from ghosts.

[mariacallous]

In Washington DC, I measure out my life in polls and heart palpitations. The polls are relentless, nail-biting, maddeningly contradictory. There are national polls, swing state polls, polls from tiny counties that predict a whole election, partisan polls designed to demoralise the other side.

There are polls on whether a candidate inspires confidence, compassion, leadership. I’ve noticed how, after a bad poll, I start looking for another that tells me numbers I like. I’ve also noticed how, after a good one, I will look for a bad poll to bring me down, as if I’m trying to prick the balloon of self-confidence and remind myself of “reality”.

But the polls never do quite take you to reality. Instead, they shape it. It’s not just what the polls are saying, or even how they were put together, that’s the great problem here – it’s how the obsessive focus on polls is symptomatic of how we view politics.

Polls make politics feel like a race, a game, a sport of feuding personalities. Who’s up? Who’s down? What tactics have they used to get one over on each other? What does it say about their personality? Words are seen as weapons with which politicians show off their ability to subvert or scare the opposition – not as substantive statements about what they intend to do.

And what sort of politician will thrive in this world where political speech is just a game? A candidate such as Donald Trump.

It was the communications professors Kathleen Hall Jamieson and Joseph Cappella who first noticed the connection between describing politics as a series of strategies and a growing cynicism among voters.

This was back in the mid-1990s, when the media was constantly analysing the rivalry between US president Bill Clinton and speaker of the house Newt Gingrich, the early iteration of today’s identity-based partisanship. Jamieson and Cappella found the media was focusing less on the issues the two were debating – often around health reform – and more on how they were competing.

The coverage fixated on who was winning, utilised the language of games and war, emphasised the performance and perception of politicians, put a new weight on polls.

This sort of coverage activated people’s cynicism about politics – the sense that it’s just a game between self-serving schemers – and then made them more cynical about the media.

Decades later, this “spiral of cynicism” is all around us: from the exploding popcorn of polls to the headlines. After Trump’s former chief of staff John Kelly compared him to a fascist last week, the Wall Street Journal wrote: “Harris uses ex-Trump chief of staff’s remarks to paint him as unfit for office”.

The question of whether Trump is a fascist or not was reduced to highlighting a rhetorical tactic. The idea that all politics is just a cynical game, and that the “mainstream media” is not really looking out for the cares of the voter, has become so pervasive it has helped pave the way for politicians who stand on sweeping away the whole edifice of democracy as we know it.

It’s no coincidence that this turn began in the 1990s, when the cold war had finished and the big philosophical debates about policy seemed to be over. Instead, politics became about entertaining performance – the era of Blair, Clinton, Zhirinovsky, Yeltsin. And the media began overgenerating coverage that replaced ideological debate with personality and tactics.

The 1990s were also when the reality show emerged as the dominant entertainment format. It initially grew out of observational documentaries seeking to understand society better by ceaselessly filming ordinary people in their homes in such a way that they would forget about the cameras and be more themselves.

It quickly became the opposite: a circus where all behaviour was for the cameras. Contestants learned to say and do the most vile things just to engineer scandal and generate attention for themselves.

American political TV debates started to imitate the same logic. In a busy primary debate, candidates only get a little sliver of airtime. The way to get more is to attack another candidate in the meanest and most personal way possible, and thus provoke them to attack you back. If you are attacked, then you are allowed more time to respond.

So you quickly got debates where supremely clever candidates sling personal abuse at each other to get more attention. The debate stage was set for reality show host Trump.

The design of most social media has followed the same incentives: rewarding taking the most extreme and often nasty statements to generate attention. And Trump has flourished on that as well.

The 1990s is when World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) boomed, with its cabaret wrestlers pulling obviously fake fighting moves, where violence is theatre. Trump was always an aficionado of WWE, even taking part in mock fights, and a member of its hall of fame.

This year the 1990s wrestling star Hulk Hogan spoke at the Republican National Convention; Trump enters his own rallies to the theme tune of the Undertaker, who, at the height of WWE, was the “evil” foil to Hogan’s all-American “goodie”. Many of Trump’s followers apply the cultural logic of WWE to his statements. Sure, the argument goes, Trump might say some very authoritarian-sounding things – but it’s just a game.

So can we ever find a way back to reality? To issues rather than strategies? We can, and we can even use polling to do so. When pollsters recently gave voters a choice of policies, rather than personalities, to choose from in this election, the majority, including Trump supporters, preferred Kamala Harris’s.

Partisan polarisation dissolves when we change how we cover politics. We can also develop different TV political debates, which preserve the excitement of competition but repurpose them to reward collaboration instead of abuse.

Imagine a debate format where candidates had to solve a real policy problem, and show how they would work with each other and with the opposition party to achieve it. We could also scale social media platforms that algorithmically detect the commonalities in political disagreements to generate common policy solutions. Such platforms are already being used in Taiwan.

Of course, there’s appeal in fleeing from reality to the grotesque circus of politics. But if we can’t face facts, others will force us. This month, at the Wilson Center in DC, Jack Watling of the Royal United Services Institute and Sam Cranny-Evans of the Open Source Centre presented a chilling analysis of Russian weapons manufacturing and supply chains.

The slideshow featured satellite photos of munitions factories where freshly cleared tracts of land are being readied to produce more weapons. Vladimir Putin is preparing for a vast war. China’s arms production is on a wartime footing. They are not playing.

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

what is Ashleys spirit animal ?

A) honey badger

B) wolverine

C) goose

D) Magpie

Magpie. 100% Magpie. Honestly, it didn't even click how much until I did a little research and now my brain is screaming and I can't unsee it.

It was a quick Google run, so take my descriptions with a grain a salt.

So here's how Ashlyn Moore is a Magpie

(I did not plan this) but her Cybertronian form from The Lost Chapter, which is one of the earliest iterations of this character (even if non-canon), actually shares the same color palette: black/white plating, and iridescent green highlights. Also, the wings immediately connect her to bird-things.

Her wings, when folded in that form, also result in a similar silhouette to that long tail

As a character, she likes to be perched up high in secure areas (like the bird)

She does have a weakness for shiny things/collectibles (miniature bots, exposed wiring, etc)

Magpies apparently have bold, curious, and often mischievous personalities (Do I need to explain this? The "look con spy in the eye and call them out" human? The "let's hop in Vince's car and eat popcorn as we watch the show" human? The "jumpscare Breakdown, try to chat up Airachnid, and be a philosophical menace" human?)

Magpies can also apparently symbolize bridges and the fantasy world, which is way too good for an inter-dimensional traveling character... also kinda matches the plot

They're also a trickster archetype?!?!?

Apparently, in Celtic tradition they're connected to prophecies... hehe, I wonder who else knows some things about the future?

They can have a dual meaning symbolically, being both a good or bad omen depending on the situation... The potential to bring good fortune or death is a duality that may or may not tie in really well with the plot.

Yer a magpie, Ashlyn

Fun fact, Ash's name is actually inspired by a mythical bird, but it seemed too on the nose to actually follow through with it, so I went with something that also connected theme-wise.

The arson was a coincidental quirk. But it also fits!

[vikenticomeshome]

Cyberchase Character Discussion (for your local Cyberchase trivia quiz) - #1: Inez

Since I have been archiving data from the Cyberchase section of the old pbskids.org website for the FlashPoint Archive Project lately, I thought should share some content I have dug up, particularly information that was provided on the different characters. Much of the information is no longer on the site. While much of it is available in the FlashPoint Archive Project now, and I would consider the project easy to look into and setup, not everyone will take the time to do so. #1: Inez I figure the best place to start is with her official "Meet the Cybersquad" character bio from back in the day. This was placed on the pbskids.org website way back in 2001, before the series initially started airing in 2002. This is no longer on the pbskids.org site, so I can't promise that it is still canon.

So, we start off learning that Inez is the youngest of the group, at nine years old. We never see the kids in school together, but I would not be surprised if Inez jumped forward a grade or two. The page emphasizes her curiosity. Now, would you call the parkway vs. driveway thing pedantic? For me: no comment.

The second page tells us that her favorite color is purple, her favorite food are popcorn and mangoes, and her favorite book in "By the Shores of Silver Lake", by Laura Ingalls Wilder. That is part of Wilder's autobiographical "Little House on the Prarie" series, with this particular book being published in 1939. I know its a classic that has been republished numerous times, but I do find it interesting that she went for such an old book. Her favorite music is by Mac Anthony. The page doesn't mention specific genres, and Marc Anthony has done several different genres over the years. I don't know his discography very well, but it looks like he was best known for Latin Salsa in the late 1990s and early 2000s, so that's probably her favorite music genre overall.

The third page tells us that her favorite move is "Harry Potter", as she loves Hermione Granger. Because this bio came out in 2001, only Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone would have been released as a movie at the time.

Her pet peeves are listed as heights, bad sportsmanship, and whenever Matt calls her "Nezzie". According to TVTropes, she did conquer her fear of heights by the time The Cyberchase Movie came out. She has one pet, her cat, Gatito. We do see Gatito in a few episodes of the show.

Now, there's something odd about Inez's design on the "Meet the Cybersquad" page. The star on her shirt is purple, as opposed to the yellow we got in the show. I'm not sure how this happened, as Inez had the yellow star as far back as the 1999 pilot.

This reminds me of another piece of trivia. During Season 4 Episode 2 "The Icky Factor", the kids get wetsuits for the first time, as they need to swim around Aquari-yum. They had already been to Aquari-yum twice by this point. However, they stayed in the sub the whole time during Season 1 Episode 16 "Codename Icky". Then, during Season 3 Episode 6 "The Grapes of Plath", they just wore their regular clothes with a bubble helmet to walk around the bottom of the bowl.

Look at their wetsuits. Matt gets plain blue wetsuit, Jackie gets a plain yellow wetsuit, and Digit gets a plain orange wetsuit. Inez gets a green wetsuit with a yellow star on the front and a purple vest. I like this detail. It's about as close to matching her color scheme as they could get without making the top half of the wetsuit pink, which would have just been weird. Maybe a full pink wetsuit would have been a little better? I don't know. If they did that, she would be missing out on the green from her shorts

Anyway, the next piece to look at is this page from Cyberchase: How It All Started: Webisode 3. This was an official prequel web comic that come out before the show started airing, so its a little off. I promise that this is the original image without any edits.

https://web.archive.org/web/20080610025304/http://pbskids.org/cyberchase/webisode_3/7.html

They got her skin-tone and hair color very wrong, as they showed her as white with red hair. The lenses on her glasses aren't as opaque. They did get the yellow star right this time, but I would consider her skin tone to be far more important. I would love to hear the story of how this mix-up happened. You know what? I'll add my attempt at fixing their mistake below, based on skin, hair, and glasses colors picked from "Meet the Cybersquad". I don't have much GIMP experience, but I think I did a pretty good job.

Anyway, the main reason I brought this image up was that she is noted as being a computer whiz who loves to go on the Internet. As far as I remember, she never uses her computer skills in the show, probably because they played it so fast and loose with the terminology.

So, that first image only showed her from the waist-up, but we do get a shot of her riding her bike to the library to meet her new friends and start the first episode. They did it again.

https://web.archive.org/web/20080607121655/http://pbskids.org/cyberchase/webisode_3/8.html

I honestly wouldn't care if it was just the shirt, vest, or shorts being the wrong color. Alright, I have added a color-corrected version below.

The second page gives us "Oh no, this is not good at all!" That is the prototype for her iconic phrase: "This is not good! This is not good at all!".

Did you know that on her way to the library, Inez road her bike all over town to run other errands? She went to Betty's House, the Post Office, and the Video (VHS) store before arriving at the library just in time to make some new friends and upload her mind into the Internet.

As far as character trivia goes, Cyberchase did have official printable trading cards. Here's the one for Nezzie. I love this card. One of her favorite things is E-mail. Her other favorite things include experiments and big words, but we all knew that already. They picked a more optimistic, but less iconic, favorite line for her with, "Hey, I've got an idea!" rather than "This is not good! This is not good at all!". She is great at basketball, which may be surprising to some, given her height. We'll come back to that. She is also great at reading, standing up for herself, and singing. We do get to hear her sing "Brahm's Lullaby" in Spanish for Chewcrocca's baby during Season 3 Episode 1 "EcoHaven CSE".

I can think of two pieces of official Cyberchase media related to Basketball. There was Season 6 Episode 7 "Jimaya Jam", which had a sport of the same name, except it took away dribbling. However, Inez was actually separated from the group at the time, with Creech taking over her role during the Jimaya Jam game. Presumably, Inez was just too powerful.

The second piece is from the singular Cyberchae chapter book, "The Search for the Power Orb". The story actually starts with Inez playing basketball against Matt. She is frustrated that he is able to block her shots due to his clear height advantage, and his teasing about her height doesn't help. Towards the end of the story, they retrieve the titular Power Orb, which is roughly the size of a basketball. It needs to go back into its basket to save Cybersite Serentia from complete deletion. Inez is able to use her short stature to run between The Hacker's legs, get a boost from Izzy, and slam dunk the Power Orb.

What else? I found this early concept art on the Cyberchase wiki. It seems like the biggest change was the style for her boots.

There is also this write-up from a "Who's Who" document. I don't know whether this was always available to the public, or if this was an internal document when they were developing and pitching the show. It doesn't add too much information to what I already posted, but it does state their intent to make her a tomboy, and it talks about her tendency to giggle, give inspirational quotes and stand on her head.

I figure no Inez compilation is complete without her standing on her head at some point. Here she is in Season 2 Episode 12 "The Guilty Party" flinging herself out of a handstand, twisting around, and landing on her feet.

[dearstvckyx]

Flufftober | 10.12 |

Forts, Movie, Cats - Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen sighed in contentment as he tossed a pillow onto the growing pile in the middle of the living room. His girlfriend stood nearby, sorting through a collection of blankets with the utmost care, as if choosing the right ones was essential to fort-building success.

“Are you sure we need this many pillows?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked at him, hands on her hips, giving him that playful “don’t question me” look. “Max, a fort isn’t just any fort. It’s about comfort, security, and the right pillow-to-blanket ratio.”

Max chuckled and surrendered. “Okay, okay. I trust you.”

Jimmy, one of Max’s cats, sauntered over, sniffing at a stray pillow before curling up next to it. Sassy, on the other hand, observed the chaos from the arm of the couch.

After what seemed like hours of rearranging pillows, tucking blankets, and adjusting fairy lights (because a blanket fort obviously needed an aesthetic touch), the fort was finally complete. It was a masterpiece. Tall enough for Max to fit inside (which was no small feat) and cozy enough for both of them to snuggle up comfortably.

She crawled inside first, pulling the blankets around her like a cocoon. Max followed, making sure to bring in snacks—a bowl of popcorn and a few chocolate frogs they’d picked up as a fun addition to the Harry Potter marathon. Jimmy padded into the fort and curled up right between them, while Sassy took up the spot on the pillows.

Max grabbed the remote and clicked to start Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. As the familiar music filled the room, he leaned back, his arm draped lazily around his girlfriend’s shoulders. She nestled closer to him, grabbing a handful of popcorn as they watched the opening scenes.

“Do you think Jimmy would be a good Hogwarts cat?” she asked, half-joking, as the camera panned over Hogwarts castle.

Max glanced down at the black furball, who was now snoozing without a care in the world. “Definitely a Slytherin,” he smirked.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “And Sassy?”

“Oh, Sassy would run the whole school,” Max said confidently. “Dumbledore wouldn’t stand a chance.”

They continued watching, pausing only for brief debates over which house they’d be sorted into (Max was a Gryffindor, obviously, though she argued he had Slytherin energy). As the night went on, they worked their way through the movies, cocooned in the warmth of their blanket fort, surrounded by sleepy cats, and completely in their own little world.

By the time Prisoner of Azkaban started, Max had one eye barely open, fighting off sleep. She noticed, smiling as she nudged him.

“Tired, Maxie?”

“No,” he muttered, eyes still closed. “Just… resting.”

She giggled, snuggling closer. “Sure, Gryffindor.”

Max smiled sleepily, pulling her closer as Jimmy softly purred beside them. It was moments like this that he loved the most—not the adrenaline of the race track, but the quiet, simple nights with her, their cats, and a cozy blanket fort.