#three utilities problem

[noelements-setempty]

Three households, all without utilities

Upon a torus where we lay our scene

[reasonsforhope]

Article | Paywall-Free

"The Environmental Protection Agency finalized a rule Tuesday [October 8, 2024] requiring water utilities to replace all lead pipes within a decade, a move aimed at eliminating a toxic threat that continues to affect tens of thousands of American children each year.

The move, which also tightens the amount of lead allowed in the nation’s drinking water, comes nearly 40 years after Congress determined that lead pipes posed a serious risk to public health and banned them in new construction.

Research has shown that lead, a toxic contaminant that seeps from pipes into the drinking water supply, can cause irreversible developmental delays, difficulty learning and behavioral problems among children. In adults, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, lead exposure can cause increased blood pressure, heart disease, decreased kidney function and cancer.

But replacing the lead pipes that deliver water to millions of U.S. homes will cost tens of billions of dollars, and the push to eradicate them only gathered momentum after a water crisis in Flint, Mich., a decade ago exposed the extent to which children remain vulnerable to lead poisoning through tap water...

The groundbreaking regulation, called the Lead and Copper Rule Improvements, will establish a national inventory of lead service lines and require that utilities take more aggressive action to remove lead pipes on homeowners’ private property. It also lowers the level of lead contamination that will trigger government enforcement from 15 parts per billion (ppb) to 10 ppb.

The rule also establishes the first-ever national requirement to test for lead in schools that rely on water from public utilities. It mandates thatwater systems screen all elementary and child-care facilities, where those who are the most vulnerable to lead’s effects — young children — are enrolled, and that they offer testing to middle and high schools.

The White House estimates that more than 9 million homes across the country are still supplied by lead pipelines, which are the leading source of lead contamination through drinking water. The EPA has projected that replacing all of them could cost at least $45 billion.

Lead pipes were initially installed in cities decades ago because they were cheaper and more malleable, but the heavy metal can wear down and corrode over time. President Joe Biden has made replacing them one of his top environmental priorities, securing $15 billion to give states over five years through the bipartisan infrastructure law and vowing to rid the country of lead pipes by 2031. The administration has spent $9 billion so far — enough to replace up to 1.7 million lead pipes, the administration said.

On Tuesday, the administration said it was providing an additional $2.6 billion in funding for pipe replacement. Over 367,000 lead pipes have been replaced nationwide since Biden took office, according to White House officials, affecting nearly 1 million people...

Environmental advocates said that former president Donald Trump, who issued much more modest revisions to the lead and copper rule just days before Biden took office, would have a hard time reversing the new standards.

Erik Olson, the senior strategic director for health at the Natural Resources Defense Council, said that the Safe Drinking Water Act has provisions prohibiting weakening the health protections of existing standards...

Olson added that the rule “represents a major victory for public health” and will protect millions of people “whose health is threatened every time they fill a glass from the kitchen sink contaminated by lead.”

“While the rule is imperfect and we still have more to do, this is by far the biggest step towards eliminating lead in tap water in over three decades,” he said."

-via The Washington Post, October 8, 2024

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! Can I request poly!marauders x fem reader as they join her lingerie shopping? The chaos would be endless

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: no smut but mdni please because this is definitely mature content, nudity, allusion to smut

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 638 words

It’s hard not to strut a little as you come out of your room. It had been James’ idea to utilize the store’s lenient return policy to simply get everything you liked and bring it all home to try on, and it was a stroke of genius. As soon as you’re in view, Sirius whistles loudly and Remus flushes a shade of pink that makes you certain he’d have fled the store if you’d done this there. 

“I rather like the strappy ones,” Sirius declares. 

“I don’t really see what, erm…” Remus’ brow furrows as he looks at your nipples. “What’s the point of wearing something that only goes around the things it’s meant to cover?” 

“I don’t think any of it should be covered,” says James. He’s reclined comfortably against the back of the couch, eating a banana while his eyes drink you in. 

Sirius nods in near feverish agreement. “It’s for easy access, Moony. This way you can suck on ‘em without taking anything off.” 

“Right, but her…” Remus looks at you as though in apology, and you swallow a laugh. He has no problem being crude when you’re in bed together, but any other time he’s inexplicably shy about it. “Dovey, your crotch is still covered.” 

“Taking it off is also part of the fun,” Sirius amends, speaking as though he’s teaching a class. “What do you think of this one, gorgeous?” 

You look down at the straps criss-crossing down your abdomen. Their satin isn’t uncomfortable, though you are a bit cold. Your nipples stand at attention. “It wasn’t easy to put on,” you admit. “But I wouldn’t mind it, I don’t think. You’d just have to be alright with waiting for me.” 

The smile Sirius gives you brings a tickle of warmth to your cheeks. “Of course we’d wait for you. Especially if it means we get such a lovely reward.”

You laugh. “I guess this is your favorite so far, then?” 

He winks. “I like anything on you, baby, you know that.” 

You’re taking that as a yes. “What about you, Jamie?” 

James takes the last bite of his banana, folding the peel over itself. “Honestly, I like it best when you’re not wearing anything. Not that you don’t look beautiful in all of them, of course,” he hurries to add. He relaxes when you smile. “If I have to pick a favorite, I did really like the blue one you had on earlier. You know, the one with the lace?” 

You hum, nodding. “I liked that one, too.” It’s very different from the one you have on now, sweet and sky blue as opposed to this brazen, salacious thing. “Remus?” 

“I think you look lovely in all of them,” he says equitably. 

You laugh. “Well, I can’t keep all of them.”

“Why not?” Sirius sounds outraged.

“B—because!” you guffaw. “It’s too many! I’d never wear them all. I’m only keeping three, the rest are going back.” 

“I’ll give you a chance to wear them all,” he bargains. 

“I’d have nowhere to put all of them.” 

“I will happily donate one of my drawers to the cause.” 

“I’m keeping three,” you say, aiming for stern despite the smile that won’t leave your lips. “Remus, pick.” 

Remus chuckles at your bossy tone, but his expression turns contemplative. “How many are left?” 

“I think…maybe four?” 

“Let’s see those, and then I’ll decide.” 

Fair enough. You turn to go change into your next ensemble, grinning to yourself when Sirius whistles again and James claps for the view of your backside. 

“Be thinking about your favorite, too,” Sirius calls after you. “Once we’re done, that’s the one we’ll tear off you.” 

“Do you really want to ruin what she’s just bought?” you hear Remus ask faintly. 

“Oh, my darling Moony. You really aren’t getting this, are you?” 

[raven-dor]

just a shell of me

in which rafe cameron finds the girl of his dreams, and refuses to let her go

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader, rafe cameron x pogue!reader

WARNINGS: given last name (Bradshaw), making out, soft rafe, angst, ward being a jerk (as per usual), kie being nosy, kissing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

🎶 : another life - sza

AN: ♥️💗

The summer air was heavy, savory even, thanks to the salt spraying from the ocean. You ducked your head, running quickly across the Ward’s large lawn. The house, or mansion, more like, was guarded by motion detectors and traps, set to go off with one wrong move. Pausing below Rafe’s window, you tried to figure out a way you could scale the wall. The gutter was right in front of you, practically calling your name. Then again, you had little faith in that supporting your body weight. The porch was directly under his window, and if you willed yourself (or utilized your upper body strength), you would be in the clear.

You decided to do the latter. Jumping up to the roof, you carefully walked the rest of the way to his window, tapping urgently, the fear of getting caught clouding your mind. "Let me in!" You hissed, tapping on the glass a little louder than before. "Rafe!"

His room appeared empty, and you frowned. He’d just texted you saying he was home, so why was he not in his room? The door's handle moved, and your eyes widened, pressing your body against the wall, holding your breath. The window creaked open, Rafe’s familiar timbre breaking the silence. "Front doors exist, you know.”

You scoffed, climbing through the window clumsily. "As if your father wants you associating with a disgraced Bradshaw."

Rafe shut the window behind you, muttering under his breath. "I don't care what my dad thinks. He's an asshole anyway."

"Never said he wasn't." You looked around his room, arms crossed defensively. "Still looks the same."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, watching with evident amusement. "You were here last week."

"Yes, last week when I was still a somewhat redeemable Bradshaw and my mother hadn’t abandoned me."

Rafe frowned, hands carefully wrapping around your waist. "Are you alright? You know it’s fine if you’re not. You've been through-"

"I don't want to talk about it." You wiggled your eyebrows mischeviously. "Now take off your clothes."

He shook his head. "You can't just show up here whenever you want and expect something. You're using me to ignore the real problem. You know that you need to talk to someone. Your father died, and your mom abandoned-"

You leaped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Rafe- just let me forget about that for tonight, please."

He sighed, pulling you flush against him. “You're not getting out of talking about this."

Lacing your fingers into the hair near the nape of his neck, you tugged, eyes fluttering shut as his lips neared yours. "I think I just did."

Placing his hand gently on the side of your face, he pulled your lips to his once more. "God, I love you." His breath hitched, heart dropping as he waited for a reaction. "I-"

You smiled, actually smiled. "I love you, too. Now less talking and more-” He fell back on his bed, pulling you along with him. “Smooth.” 

He grinned, eyes falling to your lips every so often. “I try my best.”

The morning light streamed through the blinds, ripping you from your sleep. You dug your face into your pillow, trying to indulge yourself in a few more moments of peace. You sighed, reaching out in Rafe’s general direction, frowning when you realized that Rafe was no longer in bed. 

You groaned, pulling the covers tight around you as you sat up. "Rafe? Where are you?"

No response.

You huffed, standing up and investigating. He wasn’t in his bathroom or his closet, which was much too large for a boy who wore the same three outfits. You felt dejected - after last night, you would have thought he’d stay with you, talking about everything and nothing. 

Your eyes caught the time on his alarm clock, pulling you back to reality. You had work in three hours, and since you did not have a single work-appropriate item of clothing stored here, you had to go back home. Your shorts were thrown haphazardly across the room, your shirt at the foot of his bed. It was like a scavenger hunt, finding all of your clothing before he came back. 

"Leaving so soon?"

You grabbed your shirt off the ground, nodding. "I have work, Rafe. I know that's something you're not accustomed to-"

"Don't do that.” He frowned. “Don’t start deflecting." He shut his door, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Stay. I’ll drive you so you’re not late.” 

“I don’t know-” 

“I’ll make you breakfast, you can take a shower. I’ll buy you a new outfit, even. We can talk." He spun you around, smirking at the flustered look on your face. "Stay with me."

You tried to fight it, his charm, his loving look, but he was hard to tell no. Irresistible, you would call him to your friends. Never to his face, his ego was already too large. "Alright, fine. I'll stay." He nodded like he already knew you’d say yes. You hissed at his back, watching as he walked back out the door and down the stairs. "Blueberry pancakes, please."

He held a thumbs-up, saluting you. "Yes, ma'am."

You showered quickly because even though Rafe had vowed to drive you so you weren’t late, there was still that nagging voice in the back of your head saying that you would be. You pulled on the clothes you’d worn yesterday before venturing back out to his bedroom, searching for a hoodie in his closet. The familiar creak of his bedroom door broke the silence, and you laughed. "Those pancakes didn't take long-"

Ward Cameron stood in the doorway of his son's closet with an eerily calm demeanor. Your heart dropped, knowing that every outcome of this conversation would end horribly. "Mr.Cameron."

He smiled. "You are not my son."

You pulled on Rafe’s hoodie, hugging yourself, a chill running down your spine. "I was just leaving."

He nodded. "Perfect." You walked toward the window, pulling it open before realizing your mistake. Turning around, you walked toward the bedroom door, smiling gratefully when the older man moved just enough out of the way to let you by.

You’d almost been free, your foot already on the first step, when Ward grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "I don't want to ever see you on my property ever again. Do you hear me?” 

“Yes, sir-” 

“Stay away from my son. You and your family's recent fall in-” He grimaced. “Your reputation will ruin his prospects. I don’t need you messing up everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve.” He let go and smiled. "Have we reached an agreement?"

You nodded, and he sighed. "Speak up."

"Yes, yes, agreed. I agree." You ran down the stairs, tears streaming down your face. "Sorry for disturbing you."

Rafe pushed the door open, carrying a tray full of blueberry pancakes, coffee, and a little bouquet of daisies. “I hope these meet your standards, Your Highness.” Setting the tray down on his side table, he frowned, looking around his room curiously. “Baby?” 

“Shit!” 

He tilted his head, looking out his window for the source of the curse. “Baby, where are you going?” You opened your mouth, about to speak, before deciding against it. If you spoke, he would break you down into staying, and you couldn’t do that to him. 

Rafe leaned out the window and yelled after you, confused beyond belief as to why you were leaving without saying goodbye. “Come back!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Kiara pulled you aside, smiling quickly at a customer who walked past. “You’ve been all mopey since you got here.” 

“Nothing’s wrong, Kie.” You faked a smile, sticking your tongue out. “See? I’m smiling.” 

“I don’t appreciate the sass.” She glared, lowering her voice. “Is this about-” 

“I don’t appreciate you butting into my personal buisness.” You teased. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the regular at table five is waving me down.” 

Kiara scoffed, yelling after you as you walked away. “You’re in denial!” 

You ignored Kiara, smiling at the man in front of you. “You want the usual?” 

“I think I’ll try something new today, sweetheart.” He glanced down at the menu, fixing his glasses before reading off his order. The entrance bell rang behind you, but you ignored it, taking the menu from the customer's hand. The old man smiled, laughing to himself. “Your friend is staring at you.” 

You laughed along with him, making a mental note to smack Kiara upside the head. “She’s like that.” 

“You mean he?”

You nodded, smiling like you had made the mistake on purpose. “Sorry, sir. Long day.” 

“No worries, sweetheart.” 

You knew he’d follow you. You wish he hadn’t, but Rafe was anything if not persistent. Keeping your head down, you stepped past him and behind the counter, putting away the menus. “Please leave.” 

“You left,” Rafe whispered, leaning over the counter. “With no explanation.” 

“I didn’t think you would need one.” You explained like it was obvious. “Are you going to take a seat?” 

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not enjoying your approach to the situation. “Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“Are you going to tell me why you left?” 

You sighed, pouring a mug of coffee and stepping out from behind the counter. “Either take a seat or leave, Rafe.”

 “I’m not leaving.” He was adamant, following after you as you handed the mug of coffee to your customer. 

“Is this young man bothering you?” The old mann whispered, admiration blooming in your heart. 

You shook your head, smiling. “No, but you’re sweet for asking.” 

Rafe smiled quickly at the old man before turning back to you. “What happened? I thought we’d finally-”

“You want the truth?” 

“That’s all I want.” His hand twitched, and you could tell he wanted to reach out and hold you.

“Here’s the truth. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Not good enough for me?” He laughed, his voice raising, grabbing the attention of your customers. “Not good enough-” 

“Your reputation is everything, Rafe. I can’t be the one who ruins it, I just can’t.” Your eyes were watering for the third time that day. “Now will you please leave?” 

“I’m not leaving.” He looked thoroughly upset. “Why would you say that?” 

“It’s the truth.” You hissed. “That’s what you asked for.” 

“You sound like my father right now.” He laughed. “If anything, I’m not good enough for you.” 

“We both know that’s not the truth.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a disgraced-” 

“Stop saying that.” His voice was weak, practically pleading. “Wait a second, did my-” 

“Rafe.” You couldn’t have him catching on. “Go home, please.” 

“What did my father say to you?” You avoided his eyes, staring at the wooden floor. “I knew it.” 

“Rafe-” 

“I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Rafe!” You hissed. “Don’t say that. He’s just looking out for you.” 

“So he did say something then?” Rafe took your silence for an answer, turning toward the door. “I’ll be back.” 

“No.” You shook your head, following after him, ignoring the onlookers. “It’s not worth it, really.” 

“Well, it’s his fault that I lost you, so I would say it’s worth it.” He jumped into his jeep, slamming the door shut. “He’s gonna-” 

“You didn’t lose me.” You called out, heart pumping a million miles a minute. “You never lost me.” 

“What?” He climbed out of his car. “What did you just say?” 

“I said-” You laughed, in disbelief that this was all happening. “You didn’t lose me.”

“Yeah?” He walked slowly toward you, like a lion stalked it’s prey. “You still want me?” 

“I always have.” You whispered, scared to move. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you.” 

“Dangerous words.” He was grinning, pulling you into him. “I might have to take you away.” 

“Can’t do that.” You laughed, your breath intertwining with his. “I have to finish my shift.” 

“Well, shit.” He frowned. “Guess I’ll just have to kiss you here.” 

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Guess so.” 

He leaned down, lips soft like he thought this was all a dream. A growl escaped from his throat, pulling you impossibly close, lips attacking your passionately. You yelped, giggling as he tried to keep kissing you. “Stop laughing.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” You pecked his lips. “You’re attacking me.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” His eyes were soft, lips still against yours as he spoke. “You’re not leaving, I don’t care what my dad says.” 

“Excuse me?” You jumped, pulling yourself out of Rafe’s arms. Kie was standing on the porch, her hand on her hips. “I’m glad this-” She waved in your direction. “Got resolved, but your table’s food is ready. So… break it up.” 

“Alright.” You nodded. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Kie smiled. “Stop distracting my employees, Cameron.” 

“I’m not your employee!” You yelled at Kie. “Stop spreading lies.” 

Rafe laughed at you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he saluted the pogue. “Yes, ma’am.”  

taglist: @milesdrift  @rottenstyx

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[heartyluv]

I LOVE how you write the lads guys!!! May I please request taking advantage (in a kind way, of course) of zayne’s medical expertise and asking him silly medical questions? Just like really random stuff! lounging around with him at home or being out and about while asking those questions would be so funny and I’m sure he would kind of like it lol

Note: This idea is too cute, I love it. Thank you so much, luvly. I felt like this works best as headcanons, so I hope that’s okay. 😚 Enjoy!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

Warning: Just a brief explicit headacanon after you and Zayne have been intimate.

Zayne/Reader

✴︎ Dating a doctor meant that you officially had a walking medical encyclopedia for a boyfriend and you had no shame in utilizing his knowledge. Thankfully for you, Zayne was always happy to deliver whenever you asked him all kinds of questions.

✴︎ I feel like when you start getting comfortable enough to ask him, it’s really simple things. Like it’s questions about your personal health at first. You’ve definitely asked him something like; “Babe, how do I make my headaches go away faster?” and “What do you think are the best vitamins I should take so I don’t have to keep taking gross ones that aren’t doing anything?”

✴︎ Not only does Zayne answer your questions, but he gives you some deeper insight so that you have your own knowledge about things. And you like learning from him—especially because of the way he looks at you as you stay hooked onto his every word.

✴︎ He loves the little text messages you send him. You ask him something almost everyday, sometimes even attaching a photo for reference LOL. I picture you at the supermarket, stumbling upon these new health beverages that you want to try out. But if your Dr. Zayne says that they’re simply drinks full of more sugar than actual benefits, you’ll have zero problem putting them back on the shelf. “Do any of these actually work for gut health? I sent you the nutrition label. What do you think?”

✴︎ I believe he always takes your questions seriously, but you have moments where you ask him something so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. “Zayne, babe… I ate like three apples and a pomegranate, and now my mouth feels weird. Am I dying?” Don’t catch him on a day where he’s feeling goofy either, because he might scare you a little bit.

✴︎ “You may have oral allergy syndrome, my love.” Just imagine his tone being dead serious and the silence that follows. And when you start losing it over the phone, he tries to calm you down, but he’s just smiling so hard at your theatrics. When you search it up and you start worrying if you’ll ever be able to eat another mango again in your life, he tries to suppress his laughter, all while attempting to soothe you at the same time.

✴︎ You’ll be walking around while you guys are on a date and will randomly ask him how many calories does he think you’ve burned, just to see how accurate he is compared to your walking app that tracks all of that for you. Not only does he get incredibly close, he’s also able to do the same with the amount of steps you’ve actually taken.

✴︎ “Quick, we’ve been walking thirty minutes, normal paced. How many calories? Go!”

✴︎ Just wait till you start watching one of those medical shows. You never watch an episode without him because you have to know how accurate the writing is. He’s gotten through three seasons with you and sometimes, he’d answer questions before you even asked because he just knows you so well. And you legitimately learn so much that even you start pointing out unrealistic things yourself.

✴︎ “That doesn’t even make sense. He was hit in a major artery, wasn’t he Zayne? He shouldn’t even be able to argue with a doctor right now.” He’s so proud of you, by the way. How information sticks with you. And honestly? He finds it sexy—particularly knowing that he’s the reason why you know the things that you do.

✴︎ Times when you try to eat healthier, you always ask him how many calories something will be if you take something out or off. Like you’d still eat junk food or foods that aren’t exactly healthy, but you wonder what the difference will be if you add a vegetable. LOLLL.

✴︎ “Zayne, if I put only mushrooms on the pizza, is that better?”

“Honey, I think it’s best to just discard the pizza entirely in order to properly fulfill the goal you intended to reach.”

“But Zayne…It’s Friday and it’s pizza.”

✴︎ Some more questions off the top of my head from you would be; “If I eat more carrots than usual, will the decrease my chances of having to wear those thick bifocals when we’re old?

“If I’m on top more often when we have sex, will that tone my thighs out more?”

“How is it possible to drink a gallon of water a day? There’s just not enough time to drink all that liquid.”

✴︎ Omg, you totally believe that ginger is like the cure all and you even make him eat a raw slice of it a day LOLLLL. He admits that it has its benefits, but when he tries to tell you that you have to do more than just eat ginger, you listen, but you’re still so insistent about it.

✴︎ “Despite the benefits and your complete belief in the sacred ginger, love, please make sure you continue to take your daily supplements. Add to your regimen so that you improve your health—don’t take from it believing that something is an optimal replacement.”

✴︎ This one is a little explicit. But, I imagine you and him finish having sex, he’s on top of you, both of you already came and feel good. And even when you’re breathless, even with the glorious man above you, you can’t help it when you ask: “Do you think we’ve met our quota on physical activity for the next few days?”

✴︎ Zayne can’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your neck. But he’s also filthy enough to move his hips just a little, hinting that he in fact could go again and says, “I think it’s best to try again… One more time, just to be safe. I’m sure the quota will be more than met once I’m finished with you.”

✴︎ Of course you’re going to let him fuck your brains out again. Why wouldn’t you let Dr. Zayne take care of you? What kind of patient would you be if you didn’t?

[mokulule]

Haunt is where the Heart is

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

Summary: Danny is down on his luck. He meets Jason. Both of them are a bit weirded out by their own behavior, but it works out in the end.

Chapter 1

Danny sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He leaned on his elbows at the tiny kitchen counter in his one room apartment. He crumbled up the final notice in his hand.

He was out of options. Damn Skulker just had to find a way to Amity when he’d just managed to find a job willing to give him a chance and that was that; he was out of a job before he even got his first pay check, whatever he had earned was deducted to cover the damages.

It was a week ago they turned off the utilities and in two days he was out of an apartment entirely.

He slid down on the cold floor and looked up at the mold that had started to creep in on the ceiling after the tenant above him had a broken pipe.

Dread coiled in his stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the mold or the cold or the fact he’d charged his phone at the library the last week because he had no power and everything to do with the thought that he might have to move back home.

Home, a house wired to kill him the rest of the way… He shuddered at his core at being back there, always alert, never knowing what tweaks his parents had made to the defense systems and whether they remembered to make an exception for his oddly high ecto-signature.

But what choice did he have?

His parents would be delighted, they still didn’t understand why he moved out. Especially not for that sad excuse for a flat. Especially not when he could follow in the family footsteps. They didn’t require a high school diploma from him after all. He could just hear his mom: really Sweetie, it is for the best.

He could help reassemble the portal, for some reason they just couldn’t seem to get it working.

He closed his eyes wishing himself away. To Sam and Tucker who were thousands of miles away and not even in the same direction, but he had asked them to follow their dreams. To Jazz who used to serve as a buffer between him and their parents.

Maybe he should have broken the portal from the inside, stayed in the ghost zone instead of this.

He should have left Amity when he had the chance, should have found a new haunt, but what if ghosts found a crack to slip through? Like Skulker had done. And well, now he couldn’t afford it.

His thoughts circled back to home, and he held himself tightly. He couldn’t go back there. But Amity was too small or rather the Fenton’s were too known for him to be homeless, it would be noticed.

He just didn’t have a viable solution.

Oo o oO

Five days later he sat in a diner at a rest stop a little way out of Amity, thinking if he widened his job search to outside the city perhaps he could find someone who would give him a job. With the ability to fly it wasn’t like the commute was a problem.

Officially he’d moved the few belongings from the apartment back to his parents house, but he’d yet to sleep there. He just couldn’t get himself to do so. Every moment in that house he was on high alert, and after trying for hours that first night he’d finally relented to his body’s need to get the fuck away and found an open box of packing peanuts in a warehouse to crash in - the fact that Danny kinda missed Boxy had been the topping on a very long day.

His parents didn’t understand Danny’s need to look for a job, but at least they hadn’t been overly insistent on keeping him at home.

He turned the page in Elmerton Times scanning the job listings for something without unreasonable expectations. Why did a cleaning job require three years of experience? Also did cleaning his parents’ biohazard of a lab since he was eight count?

With a frown he noted it down as a maybe.

The door opened and a young man looking to be around Danny’s age walked in drawing Danny’s attention, though at first he couldn’t tell why…

Sure he looked well enough aesthetically: fit, broad shouldered - but if a pair of muscled shoulders and a nice ass was all it took to draw Danny’s attention Dash would have been a contender. The leather jacket and motorcycle helmet was cool, but it reminded Danny of Valerie.

Really, Danny wouldn’t normally be staring at a stranger at all like this. He’d realized a couple of years ago that his crush on Paulina was just because everyone else was doing it, and young teen Danny had been desperate to fit in.

So what was it that made him stare?

The stranger turned his head revealing a lock of snow white hair in his bangs he was definitely too young for. He narrowed his eyes at Danny and Danny’s eyes widened in turn before he was quick to look down at the newspaper and his by now cold coffee.

Tension wound up his spine when booted steps approached his table ominously. Danny couldn’t decide what he was feeling. Embarrassment for staring? Fear? Excitement?

The stranger cleared his throat and spoke in a surprisingly pleasant voice.

“Can I sit here?”

Danny looked up with wide eyes, gaze running over the subtle lines that to his eyes clearly held concealed weapons before settling on the man’s face. There was a deceptively friendly smile on his lips, but his blue-green eyes were hard and assessing. A gruesome scar scar ran from the corner of his upper lip all the way up the left side of his face - Danny quickly focused back on his eyes before shrugging.

“Sure.”

Danny purposely went back to the newspaper noting down another maybe as the stranger sat dow across him, bumping Danny’s knees with his long denim clad legs. Danny’s heart sped up in his chest for no determinable reason.

“Looking for work?”

Danny looked up then looked pointedly back at the paper open on the job section. “Geh, what gave it away?”

He got a smirk in response that was more genuine than the earlier smile and his own lips tugged up in response.

“Guess, I asked for that.”

The waitress came over with a big plate of still steaming scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon as well as a cup of coffee. Danny couldn’t help eyeing the plate. When was the last time he had such a substantial meal?

“I’ll have another of those,” the stranger told the waitress indicating the plate before pushing it across to Danny rumpling the paper in the process.

Danny looked at him surprised. He was about to open his mouth - to protest or thank him? He wasn’t entirely sure - but he got waved off.

“None of that. Just eat. You look like you need it.”

Danny frowned thoughtfully, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. At the first bite he moaned and leaned back as the greasy food hit the spot in his stomach.

The stranger let him eat for a while. He was observing Danny with a peculiar frown on his face every time Danny stole a glance at him. It didn’t take long for his own plate of food to arrive and Danny was glad for the distraction. Could it be that for some reason Danny was just as interesting to the stranger as the stranger inexplicably was to Danny?

Finally Danny pushed the plate away.

“So looking for work?” The stranger tried again after a moment of silence.

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Danny said firmly crossing his arms and leaning back.

The man barked a short laugh in surprise.

“What makes you think I’d involve you in anything illegal?”

Danny’s gaze flicked pointedly to the barest outlines of the hidden weapons, before he raised an eyebrow.

“Point,” the stranger grinned tapping a finger thoughtfully on the table. What Danny would give to know what went through his head. Then he offered a hand towards Danny for a handshake.

Danny suspiciously took the glowed hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Jason.” The stranger gave his name expectantly, and Danny felt compelled to offer his own, it was only polite.

“Danny.”

“Nice to meet you.” He said as he let Danny go.

“Remains to be seen.”

He grinned again at Danny’s sass. After a moment he pursed his lips thoughtfully before finally speaking.

“So here’s the deal. I’m moving back to my hometown and I’m looking for a roommate slash housekeeper to take care of the apartment when I’m gone since I travel a lot.”

Danny blinked in surprise. Then narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not having sex with you either.”

That stumped this Jason character, and Danny could believe the idea had not even occurred to him. That was at least one point in his favor and Danny relented.

“You gotta realize how weird and creepy this is? So what’s going on? We don’t know eachother.”

“I don’t-“ Jason rubbed his forehead, then leaned back almost as if taking a step back considering his actions. Hesitantly he said, “You seem a bit down on your luck, and I really could use someone to live in the apartment when I’m not around. A mostly empty apartment is easy pickings for break-ins. And it is big enough.”

He tilted his head, somehow the green in his eyes looked more pronounced when the light hit them like that. “And you seem trustworthy, somehow.”

“Well you don’t.”

He outright laughed at that. He really was nice to look at when he smiled, Danny mused. It made him look his age, took away the hard calculation in his gaze. Made him look less like some kind of hitman - which was Danny’s current theory as to Jason’s profession.

And - Danny supposes - there were worse jobs than being a live-in housekeeper to a hitman as long as he kept Danny out of his work. For one it would solve his housing situation - and just the thought that he was gonna have to go home to his parents' house at the end of the day to make an appearance crawled like skittering insects down his spine.

Once Danny was out somewhere more stable, he could also look for something new.

It didn’t solve his worry about the ghosts coming to Amity despite the portal being shut down, but while Jason did not at all ping Danny as trustworthy, there was still that something that drew Danny’s attention. Something he knew would eat at him if he left things at this.

“Okay, so say I agree, what then?”

Jason blinked in surprise clearly at this point not expecting Danny to agree - that made two of them.

“Uh, I suppose I give you the address. It’s in Gotham. You could ride with me, but you probably need to pack. Do you need funds for travel?”

He was already reaching inside his leather jacket and pulling out a roll of cash. Danny started laughing because this whole situation was ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” he said, placatingly holding up a hand and trying to stop laughing, “I just can’t believe I’m doing this.“

Jason huffed. “I will give you that the entire situation is odd."

Their eyes met, two pairs of blue with a hint of hidden green. Danny couldn't help the smile that spread his lips. Jason rolled his eyes, but Danny could see him fighting a smile of his own.

Hitman or not, Jason seemed an okay sort - and, Danny mused, when taking a leap of faith it was a big advantage that one could fly.

-

Alternatively how early days Red Hood acquired a protector spirit for the fallback safehouse where he actually keeps his belongings.

Okay so I don't know when I will continue this, the future of this fic is still pretty vague in my head it's mostly like a mood of ace-spectrum Danny and Jason occasionally living together while Jason prepares to and eventually does upend the Gotham criminal underworld and everything goes up in fire.

Anyways, did you like it? Thoughts?

Edit: now with a masterpost you can subscribe to

[astra-ravana]

A Guide To Shape-Shifting

Shape-shifting has long captivated the human imagination, holding a prominent place in the realms of witchcraft and the occult. In fact, the myth of the shape-shifting witch can be found in folklore around the world and across multiple cultures, from the British Isles to the Americas to Asia and Africa. Witches were reported to turn into rabbits, cats, deer, mice, owls, ravens, and wolves. Shape-shifting is an intriguing practice that involves altering one's physical form, or at least one's perception and is often associated with mystical abilities and spiritual connections.

What Is Shape-Shifting?

Shape-shifting, in the context of witchcraft refers to the belief and practice of altering one's form or perception through magick and ritual and can take place in the Otherworld or on our current astral plane, depending on the needs of the witch. It encompasses the idea of undergoing a physical or metaphysical transformation, allowing witches to embody different beings, animals, or even objects. Often times this occurs when the witch wears the body of an animal, we know literal transformation is not possible, but it can certainly happen on an energetic or spirit level. This can occur in one of two ways: the witch's spirit transforms into the spirit of an animal or the witch's spirit 'rides' a living animal or external spirit on the physical plane or in the Otherworld. In either case, both are considered shape-shifting and can be used for the same purposes.

Some History

By the 13th century, it was widely believed witches could turn into animals at will. Witches were believed to turn into hares, toads, dogs, cats, and other animals to steal from their neighbors, curse livestock, and otherwise create mischief and mayhem. In many cases, harm done to the animal form caused similar wounds to the human.

In 1649, John Palmer of St. Albans, England confessed to transforming into a toad in order to torment his neighbor. The neighbor reportedly kicked the toad and Palmer complained of sore shins afterward. Similar stories appear in American folklore, including Aunty Greenleaf who was said to take on the form of a white doe to torment her neighbor's livestock. When the doe was shot with three silver bullets, Aunty Greenleaf was said to later die with three silver bullets in her spine.

Of course shape-shifting myths and folklore don't end there. We also have the Navajo skinwalker, the American loup-garou, Korean kumiho, Japanese yokai, the Kitsune, and the Mexican La Lechuza.

Famous incantations come from Isobel Gowdie during the 17th century witch trials. During her confessions, Gowdie named two charms one for transforming into a hare and and one for transforming back into a woman.

To Transform Into A Hare:

"I shall go into a hare

With sorrow and such a meickle care;

And I shall go in the Devil's name

Ay while I come home again."

To Transform Back:

"Hare, hare, God send thee care.

I am in a hare's likeness now,

But I shall be in a woman's likeness even now."

Other witches reported similar shape-shifting incantations as seen below.

To Transform Into A Cat:

"I shall go into a cat,

With sorrow and such a black shat;

And I shall go in the Devil's name,

Ay while I come home again."

To Transform Into A Crow:

"I shall go into a crow,

With sorrow and such a black thraw;

And I shall go in the Devil's name,

Ay while I come home again."

Modern Uses Of Shape-Shifting

In contemporary witchcraft, shape-shifting has taken on metaphorical and symbolic significance. Modern witches utilize shape-shifting as a tool for personal growth, empowerment, and self-discovery. Through the exploration of different archetypes and primal instincts, witches seek to deepen their understanding of themselves and their connection to the natural world, develop a relationship with an animal guide or totem, or even gain new perspectives on a problem. Shape-shifting becomes a means to tap into hidden aspects of the psyche and to embrace transformative experiences. This can take many forms, including calling upon different animal spirits during spellwork, meditating on different animal aspects, working with animal spirits, journaling, ritual dances, etc.

Shape-shifting also shares a deep connection with shamanic journeying and hedge riding, a practice in which the witch traverses the different realms of the Otherworld for spiritual insight and healing. Within hedge riding and othet shamanic traditions, shape-shifting serves as a means to enter other dimensions, communicate with spirits, and tap into their wisdom and attributes. By assuming the form of a particular animal, the shamen can embody ita qualities, accessing unique perspectives and guidance on their journey. An animal form is also taken often as a form of protection during otherworldly travel, as animal spirits are often able to traverse undetected, acting as a form of invisibility, much like Celtic fith-fath incantations. An animal form also allows the witch to travel more quickly and in some cases, access areas previously unreachable, such as high mountain tops, deep within an ocean or lake, or even borrowing underground or into tight spaces.

How To Shape-Shift

Modern witches engage in shape-shifting through various techniques and practices. Visualization exercises play a significant role, where witches create vivid mental images of their desired form or archetype, often coupled with ritual work such as wearing animal skin/bones, dancing, drumming, or incantations. Through meditation, yoy can enter a state of deep focus and receptivity, allowing yourself to embody the essence and qualities of the chosen form. Energy work such as harnessing personal energy or working with elemental forces, can serve as a catalyst for the transformation, although most witches find it easier to use a mask or skin, or use an ointment to prompt the change. Needless to say, there are multiple approaches to shape-shifting and you need to experiment to find which method works best for you. Below are several ways to engage in shape-shifting from both folklore and modern witchcraft.

• Incantations And Charms- This is probably one of the most commonly cited historical ways to shape-shift, with the incantations from Isobel Gowdie and her fellow witches being cited most often. These incantations can be modernized and adapted to turn you into any animal you desire. Since most witches do not incorporate "God" or the Devil in their craft, these titles can be changed to reference deities or the forces you believe in such as Lord/Lady, Horned God, Hekate, Lilith, etc. Pagan musician Damh the Bard does an excellent job of this in his "Fith Fath Song" where he says "I shall go as a wren in spring

With sorrow and sighing on silent wing

And I shall go in our Lady's name

Aye, til I come home again

Then we shall follow as falcons grey

And hunt thee cruelly for our prey

And we shall go in our Horned God's name

Aye to fetch thee home again

Then I shall go as a mouse in May

Through fields by night and in cellars by day

And I shall go in our Lady's name

Aye til I come home again

Then we shall follow as black tom cats

And hunt through the fields and the vats

And we shall go in our Horned God's name

Aye to fetch thee home again... "

Of course writing your own incantations works just as well, if not better, than using others' words.

• Wearing Animal Skins, Bones, Or Masks- Apart from incantations, many witches engage in shape-shifting by animal skins, bones, or masks to encourage a transformation. This is often coupled with ritual dancing and drumming until an altered state of consciousness is reached. In Call of the Horned Piper, Nigel Jackson describes such a ritual. In order to shape-shift, the initiate would undergo a symbolic death by undressing and crossing a lake or other body of water. Upon arriving on the other side they would don a wolf skin or belt and enter into an altered state of consciousness to "be projected forth into the form of a wolf". This same practice can be replicated with any animal pelt, bone, or mask, using a cold shower as the bridge to 'death' should you not have access to a river or lake and privacy.

• Trance, Meditation, and Visualization- Reaching an altered state of consciousness coupled with one or both of the aforementioned methods is the key to actual transformation. Reaching an altered state of consciousness can be done in a variety of ways, including ritual dancing, drumming, humming, consuming psychoactive plants, or using ointments. The methods used are essentially the same as hedge-riding, however the goal of reaching the trance state is to shape-shift. With that intention firmly in your mind, you can visualize yourself shifting into your animal form, your consciousness slowly becoming that of an animal. You may find walking/crawling on all fours, growling, hissing, or otherwise behaving like the animal aids in this transformation. Become the animal you wish to transfrom into.

If you are looking to shape-shift while hedge-riding, visualizing the shift, reciting an incantation, and donning your animal garb within the Otherworld will also work. Unlike on our plane, you won't need to shift your consciousness again, as that has already occurred. While you don't necessarily need anything physical to do this, having real animal remains or a mask on your person prior to hedge-riding will greatly aid you in your work on the astral plane.

When first starting out, start small, shape-shifting for very short periods of time. Experiment with a variety of methods, combining them into a ritual that works for you.

Shape-Shifting Safety

There are dangers to shape-shifting into an animal form. This includes not being able to return to your body because tou have forgotten you're human, forgetting which realm you belong to, being captured, injured, or killed within the Otherworld or while riding a live animal. There are many tales of witches traversing the world as an animal and being injured only for the same wounds to appear on the witch's human form. These injuries sometimes resulted in the death of the witch, so be mindful of hazards while shape-shifting.

What You Can Do To Protect Yourself

1. Set clear and firm boundaries and time limits for travel. Setting an alarm or using a musical cue can help pull you back from a trance.

2. Have a spotter who can help rouse you should you not come back when originally planned.

3. Have a safe word or incantation that when spoken pulls your spirit into your body.

4. Use a red witch's thread tied around your finger or arm to anchor your spirit to your physical body. If you get lost, follow the thread back to your body.

5. Carry or wear protective charms that will prevent your spirit from being stolen or harmed while in the Otherworld. Your familiar or household pet can also act as a protector of your body, sitting on or near you during shape-shifting to ensure nothing else tries to inhabit your body.

6. When you are finished, make sure you are completely grounded in your human body.

Shape-shifting in witchcraft remains an enigmatic and alluring practice, intertwining myth, history, and contemporary spirituality. It offers a gateway to explore the depths of our own selves, connect with the primal forces of nature, and embark on transformative journeys of self-discovery. Whether through the exploration of archetypes, communion with spirits, or embracing the hidden aspects of our being, shape-shifting provides a mystical transformation that resonates with the essence of true witchcraft.

[calciumcryptid]

The KinnPorsche the Series core three ships headcanons but it is things about their relationships that surprise the rest of the cast.

KINNPORSCHE

KinnPorsche being into each other beyond sex is the main shocker. Obviously, sex is a huge component of their relationship, but it was never the only component. Every time anyone sees them on normal dates, there is a moment they do a double take.

For Kinn, it is him calming down his lifestyle for Porsche. Kinn was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth, and he utilized it to his full advantage throughout his life. The notion he'll abide by whatever lines Porsche establishes with what rich kid nonsense he'll put up with verses which rich kid nonsense he won't makes people think he is possessed the first couple of times they see it.

For Porsche, Kinn is his first genuine relationship so everyone is a little thrown by him acting like someone who is new to relationships. Porsche bribes the staff for information on Kinn's favorite things, favorite places. He tends to blush and giggle when talking about Kinn. He has a hard time with communication, establishing boundaries, and time management with his other relationships. Every time, people get a little surprised and amused this is the same Porsche as charming bartender Porsche.

KIMCHAY

KimChay going public with their relationship in the WiK space surprises a lot of people. After everything they've been through, Kim doesn't want Chay to be a dirty secret, and Chay figured it was better to reveal it on their own terms. Kim's idol persona does take a hit, but it recovers when it's clear Chay is staying around (besides, now that WiK has a consistent muse the release schedule becomes steadier).

For Kim, people are shocked by how peaceful Kim is with Chay. Kim was raised as an assassin, an enforcer, with harsh training and traumatic baggage. Whenever he is with Chay, it all seems to seep out of him as he melts into Chay's touch.

For Chay, people are startled by how intense Chay is about their relationship. He doesn't take slander to Kim kindly, even if he has hurt him in the past. If they are arguing behind closed doors, he'll back Kim up in public. After all, Kim has defended himself enough. Now, Chay is is here to do it for him.

VEGASPETE

In general, VegasPete's existence is enough of a shock on its own, but the main thing people are surprised by is how co-dependent they are. They were both lone wolves in their own ways before each other (Vegas never taking bodyguards with him, and Pete being a lot more closed off and fake with his colleagues). Now, you can barely see one without the other. In fact, seeing one alone is a warning sign because (best case scenario) the other one is probably around the corner or (worst case scenario) Thailand is about to burn.

For Vegas, him listening to Pete baffles a lot of people. Vegas is a schemer with control problems; however, Pete can tell him something won't work for xyz reason and Vegas won't bat an eye. It doesn't even have to be Vegas' plans, it can simply be the minor family needs more bodyguards or they don't have a specific type of cooking oil. Genuinely, someone could point out something and Pete could point out the same thing ten seconds later, yet only one of them is chewed up and spit back out for it.

For Pete, everyone's day was ruined when they realized he liked Vegas for his personality. They figured Pete defecting would be a short-term sexual thing, and Pete would be back once the glow wore off. The reality is Vegas will be an annoying know-it-all petty bitch, and Pete will stare at him with fond eyes. Vegas gets sopping wet and pathetic, and Pete is visibly turned on. The compound wishes it was a sex thing, as it would be easier to wrap their heads around it.

[ckret2]

The second dimension has just been burned; Bill—who's definitely an innocent victim in this situation and totally didn't have anything to do with the fire—is inside the nightmare realm "dream realm" with a bunch of dying shapes from the neighboring dimensions that also caught fire; like a million gods are at the scene of the fire trying to figure out what happened; and the Axolotl's just been hit with a nonstop barrage of cosmic horror. But he's about to face an even greater horror: watching politicians and contractors try to get a single task done.

Here, have a fic. It's part three of a series about the Axolotl witnessing the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre before anyone's even figured out what happened or whose fault it is. Here's part one and part two.

####

Outside what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, what seemed like half a city's worth of gods had assembled within just a few hours: agents from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, concerned local politicians, firefighters, cops, paramedics, reporters, rubberneckers, and volunteers. The scene was one of simmering panic being just barely suppressed by training and professionalism: everyone there had a job to do, everyone there was focused on doing it, and none of them knew whether it would be enough.

Behind what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, where there was supposed to be an empty void with the point-sized Dimension Zero, there was now a multicolored cosmic foam, frothing and roiling nauseatingly in a way reminiscent of waking from a fever dream to discover that you're actively in a state of delirium and behind the wheel on the freeway. Only the Axolotl knew that, inside that foam, there was a mad dance party of the enslaved dead and dying, overseen by the party host ghost who called himself the Magister Mentium.

Neighboring what used to be the incinerated wall named Dimension 2 Delta, five 1D and 2D dimensions had been burned down to nothingness. The ATTF had just confirmed that a sixth had joined them, two more were well on their way to full incineration, and there were unconfirmed reports trickling in that efforts to contain the fire had failed and two more 1D dimensions were burning up like fuses. The flat and linear living beings of thousands of worlds had been rescued; shapes huddled together uncomfortably on 3D worlds, evicted ghosts haunted ghost worlds, and gods who had once seen themselves as above all mortal concerns now found themselves sitting shellshocked in an "above" they'd never imagined—and they were the lucky ones. The ones who hadn't burned up in the pale blue fires or fallen down into the eternal dance party.

And amidst it all—all the fear, the fire, the death, the panic—the desperate attempts by gods that didn't know each other or didn't like each other to find a way to make this right—those who thought a crisis of such interdimensional magnitude called for kindness and compassion verbally wrestling with those who thought it called for punishment and control—a Time Giant in a hard hat, whistling a country song she'd heard on the radio that morning, completely ignored everyone else there, strolled right up to the sickly swirling border of Dimension Zero as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and started looking around for the wall named Dimension 2 Delta she'd been called out to inspect.

She was dressed in goggles, a flannel shirt, sensible overalls, and leather work gloves. There were several tools strapped to her belt: a time tape measure, a space hammer, and a utility repair kit with patches and sewing needles for making quick mends to the fabric of reality. She eyed Dimension Zero's undulating border, glanced down at her tiny repair kit, and frowned dubiously. It seemed that the problem she'd been called out for was too big to hand stitch back together. She shrugged in resignation.

The cop who looked like a crab with two mushrooms growing out of his hollowed-out eye sockets smacked one claw against the cop made of two interlocked burning rings. "Hey. Is she supposed to be here?"

VENDOR turned, took in the Time Giant's appearance, and shouted, "Hello! Excuse me? What are you doing?"

She gestured with a thumb at Dimension Zero. "I was called about a prematurely crunched dimension. Here to do an inspection."

Irritably, VENDOR said, "You're supposed to be inspecting Dimension 2 Delta, not—this thing!"

"Well, I don't see D-2Δ around here. Looks to me like it's gone," she said. "Some jackass has been blowing up my office phone all day trying to rush me out here. I had to cancel three other inspections, call another guy in on his day off, and come out myself to get this over with so we can shut this guy up. So I ain't here to stand around painting my fingernails. Unless you can point me to D-2Δ, I'm gonna inspect the dimension that is here."

VENDOR, the jackass in question, said, "I'm the one who called you and I'm saying you can't go in!"

"Uh huh." Behind her goggles, the Time Giant's expression was completely unreadable. "Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go do my job."

The flaming rings whirled between the Time Giant and Dimension Zero's border, hundred eyes narrowed threateningly. "This is an active crime against reality! It's still under investigation."

"Then what was the big rush to get me out here!"

The argument was clearly audible over the general din as the Axolotl and the storm cloud with the ATTF returned from inspecting one of the many out-of-control fires. "Cops," the storm rumbled. "Hate cops."

The Axolotl's frills fluttered in agreement. "Interesting from an apocalypse cop."

Static crackled irritably over the cloud. "I prefer 'apocalypse agent.'"

As they caught up, the Time Giant was saying, "I ain't got time for this." She pulled out a length of time tape without unlatching the measure from her belt. "So when won't this place be an active crime scene?"

"Hold on!" The cloud flicked VENDOR's metal side with a lightning bolt to catch THEIR attention. The crack of thunder startled the Time Giant and cops into looking its way as well. To VENDOR, it snapped, "This isn't your investigation, back off." To the cops, it said, "And this is not a crime scene." To the Time Giant, it said, "I put in the initial call. Dimension 2 Delta spontaneously combusted; we want to know why. He says"—it gestured toward the Axolotl with a fork of lightning—"whatever's left of it is in there, so that might as well be where you start your investigation."

"Thank you," the Time Giant sighed. She let the tape snap back into place. "ATTF, right?"

"Right."

"I prefer to get my info from whoever's actually in charge of a dimension. So, we got any gods that can tell me about 2Δ—property owner, in-house maintenance...?"

There was suddenly a large wall of steel and glass in between the storm cloud and the Time Giant as VENDOR physically shoved THEIR way back into the conversation. "2Δ is in Lady Morgenstern's district, but she's still on vacation—(and apparently decided this incident wasn't worth coming back into the office for)—but, I am on the urban planning committee. If there's anything you need to know, you can talk to me. I can request any municipal records we have on 2Δ's construction and maintenance."

The Time Giant screwed up her mouth. "How long will that take?"

"A few hours, most likely."

The Time Giant's scowl deepened.

She wouldn't get anything useful from a career politician from a different district who knew bupkis about Dimension 2 Delta. The Axolotl said, "If you need somebody who personally knows 2Δ, I... might know someone. A mortal from the wall."

"Uh-huh." The Time Giant didn't look much less dubious about this offering. "It better be a mortal that's at least a quantum physicist. Preferably one with experience in dimensional maintenance."

"I... don't know." The Axolotl nearly added I don't think so—but he was growing less certain he knew what that triangle was capable of, and he didn't like his suspicions. "But—he is an eyewitness to Dimension 2 Delta's destruction from the inside."

The Time Giant chewed on that; then sighed, pointed at VENDOR, and said, "Okay, you request whatever files you can get," and pointed at the Axolotl and said, "In the meantime, I'll talk to your guy. Where is he?"

"Turn around, jumbo."

The group flinched in surprise. They turned toward the missing wall and the grotesquely bloated singularity behind it.

From the zeroth dimension's impossible border, the shining yellow triangle, hardly larger than a fleck of dust, blinked blearily out into the third dimension. He was holding a red plastic cup and wearing a party hat. He looked very much like a hungover homeowner trying to sign for a package at 7 in the morning.

They stared at him.

VENDOR demanded, "What in the world are you?"

"I'm a triangle," said the triangle. 

"You're not supposed to be in there. Get out."

"Hmm! Let me think! No!" He floated up to camera level with VENDOR, apparently not noticing he'd started tilting at an angle. "Why don't you make me?"

"How dare—! Do you know who you're talking to, mortal?"

"Nope. I only know the people worth knowing."

The Axolotl had to choke back a laugh as VENDOR's lights buzzed brighter with irritation.

The cloud quietly asked, "Your friend from 2Δ?"

The Axolotl nodded. "This is the Magister Mentium. He's the only survivor of Dimension 2 Delta. That I know of, anyway." He looked to the triangle, hoping he'd tell him that he was wrong—that the triangle's dancers really were his people from his own dimension.

But the triangle neither confirmed nor denied the claim. He just shot the Axolotl a dirty look. The Axolotl's heart sank.

"Are you sure he 'survived'?" VENDOR asked. "He doesn't appear to have a body. I don't think he's alive."

"What's with everyone's obsession with how alive I am today," the triangle griped. "Hey, worlds-for-guts! Come over here and I'll show you how 'lively' I can be."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Beg harder."

The crab cop snapped his claws. "You think you can threaten a god? Better watch your mouth, mortal."

"Oh, now I'm mortal again!" The triangle laughed. "Hey, make up your minds! Am I dead or not?"

"I warned you—!"

The Axolotl quietly inserted himself between the two, muttering to the crab, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that 2Δ isn't one of the dimensions hubris is illegal in?" From the corner of an eye, he could see the triangle pinching his fingers in mocking imitation of the cop's claw snaps. He blocked the triangle from the cop's view.

"It is up here—"

"He isn't up here. He's down there." The Axolotl stared at the crab until he backed off.

Throughout all this, the Time Giant was surveying the triangle dubiously, jaw set in an unimpressed line. Finally, she asked him, "Is uh—is your god home...?" (Even as tense as he was, the Axolotl had to fight back a chuckle. You could always tell when someone wasn't used to talking to mortals.)

"There's no gods here," the triangle retorted. "I'm the magister of this dream realm. So who're you and whaddaya want?"

No gods came up to smite the triangle for denying their existence, so the Time Giant shrugged and continued to address him: "Civil engineering inspector, cosmic structure maintenance. I'm here to figure out why D-2Δ collapsed, look over the place you're in now, see whether it's is up to code."

"Ugh, it's about time," the triangle groaned, as if he'd had any involvement in the Time Giant's appearance or any reason to expect her to be here. "According to these jokers, we got given a flimsy universe! Bad wiring or something!" (Had the triangle been eavesdropping on them the whole time?) "It'd explain a lot! The place wasn't very robust!" His irritated gaze circled the group of "jokers" in question—Axolotl, storm cloud, vending machine, the cops—then did a double take at the cop made of two flaming wheels. "Whoa, and I thought frills here was the freak. How many eyes do you have?" He squinted and started trying to count them. The rings rotated irritably and the triangle flinched. "You can shapeshift 'em. Wowww, optometrists must hate you."

The Time Giant waved a hand between the triangle and the rings to get his attention back. "So you are in charge of whatever's left of D-2Δ in there?"

"Of course he's not," VENDOR said. 

"Yep, that's me," the triangle said.

"Fantastic," said the Time Giant, loudly ignoring VENDOR. She pulled out a miniature clipboard strapped to the back of her toolbelt. "Then you get first priority in deciding what happens to the place, as long as it don't violate cosmic construction code. What's your ideal outcome here? Gut this dimension, clean out the rubble from D-2Δ, and rebuild somewhere else?"

"Don't even think about it," the triangle said. "Stabilize our dream realm."

VENDOR cut in again, "You can't expect to stay in there! A void at the center of the multiverse is no place for three million squatters—"

"You're way behind, Jack," the triangle said gleefully. "We're up to ten million now!"

THEY gasped in horror. "Ten million?!" THEY started cycling through THEIR stock of moons for one better sized for the population.

The request to stabilize the dimension gave the Time Giant pause, but before VENDOR could try to jump in again, she said, "Sure, got it." She made a note on her clipboard. "I'll look around, figure out if it can be repaired, make sure it isn't about to collapse around your ears—or whatever you have. Corners?"

"Great! I keep hearing this awful grinding noise! And the electromagnetism keeps flickering on and off! Can you do something about that?"

"I'm here to try," the Time Giant said. "Can I come in?"

The triangle hesitated. He looked to the Axolotl. "Hey, frills. Do you vouch for this freak?"

His gills fluffed in surprise at the question. Him? "Yes—she's a professional." The Apocalyptic Threat Task Force wouldn't have her on call if she wasn't dependable.

"All right," the triangle said. "Both of you come in. Welcome to the dream realm."

The Axolotl and Time Giant exchanged a look. She shrugged, scooped him into her arms like an oversized house cat, and headed into Dimension Zero.

####

"Wow. I've never seen nothing like this before." That was the fourth time the Time Giant had said that so far. (Two of them had been spent on the eternal dance party. She'd made eye contact with a square who was coughing an endless plume of black smoke out from around his dry and cracking eye, and the Axolotl—still being cradled in one arm—had felt her shudder before she deliberately turned away. If she was horrified, she was doing a better job of locking it away than the Axolotl had.) "Just moved in?" 

"Pretty recently," the triangle said. "I can't tell you exactly when! I abolished time."

"Probably for the best. This place is a real fixer-upper—I don't know if it could handle time." She had started poking and prodding as soon as she entered Dimension Zero—feeling the quality of the fabric of reality, flipping open invisible breaker boxes to inspect the fundamental forces. She paused as she peered into one box. "Where's the gravity?"

"Beats the heck outta me! I gave up looking for it. Think I like it better without gravity." The triangle had been weaving around her during her whole inspection. He was still clearly under the influence—but now, the Axolotl was less certain what influence he was under. The more the Axolotl saw him separated from his eternal dance, the less he looked like a partied-out drunk, and more like he was distracted to the point of dissociation. His voice fluctuated randomly between "loud" and "too loud." He tilted and zigzagged when he moved, drifted when he tried to hold still. He simultaneously flickered around the dimension like an indecisive quantum particle that couldn't figure out where it existed and maintained a steady, unblinking, spotlight-like stare at the Time Giant and what she was doing. "But the gravity's nothing. A while ago, the weak atomic force went out for like a whole week; you can imagine what a pain that was to get working again!"

She whistled under her breath. "Is this your first reno project? Should've started with something simpler, like a 2D universe, and worked your way up to 3D. 1D's beginner-friendly too; but honestly, with all the restrictions it's not worth it unless you're really creative with portals. 2D's a reasonably accessible middle ground."

"We came from a 2D universe," the triangle said. "After all the work we put into getting to the third dimension, I'm not about to go back!"

"Fair enough." She shifted the Axolotl from where she'd been carrying him in her arm to set him up on her shoulder so she could free her hands. He draped over her shoulder with his tail hanging down her back to watch as she shined a flashlight into the breaker box. There were five switches labeled in marker on tape, "ELECTROMAGNETISM," "STRONG WEAK ATOMIC FORCE" "WEAK  STRONG  WEAK  STRONG!!! ATOMIC FORCE," "????," and "???????? (DON'T TOUCH!!)" The weak atomic force switch was being held in the "on" position by a bundle of black rubber bands that, upon closer inspection, appeared to be made out of the triangle's own arms. The ???? switch had been replaced by a wormhole.

She prodded the wormhole with the butt of a pen. The triangle yelped and flinched. "Hey, whoa! If you're gonna get handsy, at least buy me dinner first!"

She stared at him, slowly shook her head, and muttered, "Never seen nothing like that before." She shut the breaker box. "Well, this place is no Goldilocks zone, but it's honestly kinda impressive it hasn't imploded yet."

"I'm taking that as a compliment!"

She put away her flashlight, pulled out her clipboard, and said, "So you mentioned a grinding sound. What's this grinding?"

"Right, that!" Now that she wasn't doing anything interesting worth watching, the triangle zoomed in front of her to make direct eye contact. "Every time I try to move, all of existence starts creaking and groaning."

"You're moving now and I don't hear anything."

The triangle rolled his eye. "I don't mean moving in here, I mean moving!"

She frowned.

The Axolotl suggested, "I think he's—at the center of the dimension. When he moves, we move... through the dimension. Perhaps he means when the dimension's literally moving with him?"

"Uh." The triangle squinted uncertainly. "Yyyes?"

"Huh. Dimensions shouldn't be moving." She unhooked her time tape from her belt, held it up in front of her, and said, "Can you move about... twenty lightminutes away?"

The triangle sighed heavily. "Yeah, sure." He zoomed off to the side. Existence seemed to zoom with him. The whole time he was moving, the Time Giant stretched out more of her time tape.

The Axolotl felt something very far away rumble.

"Is that all you needed, or are you gonna ask me to roll over and bark, too?"

"Haw haw," she said flatly. "Yeah, that's it." She glanced at the Axolotl. "How long did it feel to you like it took him to move?"

The Axolotl tried to think through the momentary vertigo. "Thirty, forty seconds?"

"Uh-huh. For him to move twenty lightminutes in thirty seconds, he'd be moving forty times the speed of light."

"Oh."

"Is that good?" the triangle called.

The Time Giant grimaced. "Well..."

"I can do it faster!"

"D—don't do it faster." She held up the time tape for the Axolotl to inspect. "Look at this."

Every measure mark on the tape was labeled 0 sec - 0 sec - 0 sec - 0 sec.

The Axolotl gave it a baffled look. "He did say he abolished time."

"Sure, but there's relative time, and then there's absolute time." Which was probably a statement that made sense to Time Giants, but all the Axolotl could guess was that she meant the time tape was not supposed to say zero seconds.

She let the tape retract and stroked her chin with a gloved hand. After a moment of thought, she said, "Lemme check something out."

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 3 of a probably-7-part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. Here's part one and part two if you missed it. I'm posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl slowly discover just how much of a monster that silly triangle he likes really is.

It's ALSO chapter 63 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. I'm gonna fix the chapter numbering once I know how many chapters this plot is. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a oneshot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: okay, I lied that last week was the least horrifying chapter, but it's only because this chapter ran so long I decided to cut it in half. The horror comes next week. Enjoy this brief lull while everyone acts like this is a totally normal property inspection.

Anyway, lemme know what y'all think, and next week we're right back on the cosmic horror!)

[thinkmarkthink]

The problem began when Bruce refused to take off his utility belt at TSA.

“This is me complying,” he said, deadpan, as the scanner screamed.

“I’m going to need you to remove the metal objects, sir,” the agent replied, eyes twitching.

“You’re going to need a bio-scanner and a Class C government override to get that off,” Bruce muttered.

Clark stepped in, smiling his “please don’t report us to Homeland Security” smile. “He has… orthopedic concerns. Titanium hip. Very sensitive.”

Bruce blinked once, betrayed. “I do not—”

“You do now,” Clark whispered, patting his ass.

Meanwhile, Diana had cleared security ten minutes ago because she’s a goddess, not a threat, and was now standing at the Cinnabon kiosk asking philosophical questions about frosting.

Flash had already sprinted halfway across the terminal, found their gate, bought a novelty mug, lost the novelty mug, and somehow ended up trying to charge his phone in a vending machine slot. “Guys,” he said, voice echoing through the comms, “this place is a nightmare. There’s a child chewing on a power cable. I think I just saw a raccoon.”

J’onn, who did not understand Earth airports, had shapeshifted into the pilot, entered the cockpit, and was now in a small standoff with actual airport security. “I was attempting to understand humanity,” he explained, completely calm, as they escorted him away.

“By impersonating a Delta captain?” Bruce hissed, catching up.

“I said attempting.”

Arthur hadn’t shown up yet. He’d sent a text — stuck in Atlantic trench dispute. bring peanuts.

Back at the gate, the agent squinted at them. “You’re traveling as a… group?”

Clark nodded. “Business retreat.”

“With… Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce, sunglasses on, tried to look like he wasn’t vibrating with hatred. “We’re coworkers.”

“Supervisors, technically,” Hal added, materializing with a slushie and zero shame.

Somehow, miraculously, they made it onto the plane.

Flash got a window seat. Diana got upgraded to first class after smiling at the steward. Bruce got stuck next to a baby who kept tugging on his cape. Hal fell asleep drooling on Clark’s shoulder. Clark let him. J’onn read SkyMall and looked concerned about the human obsession with wine decanters shaped like moose.

And in the middle of it all, Bruce Wayne—vigilante, billionaire, obsessive planner—sat with his arms crossed, lips tight, whispering to himself:

“We could’ve teleported. We have three zeta beams. I built the goddamn satellite. I hate all of you.”

The baby spit up on him.

Clark passed him a napkin and didn’t even try not to laugh.

[ice-mint]

HOTD HOUSES AU

Aegon is squatting, because he's been thrown out of his mother's house and he'd rather spend the little money he has on drugs and booze than pay rent.

Helaena has money to pay rent but moved in with him because she heard he has a lot of roaches and spiders (they are free roaming! What a considerate owner!) and she doesn't really mind the dirt.

Corlys is currently living at his beach house because Rhaenys threw him out of their shared home (again) after she saw one of his very obvious bastards at his workplace. He hopes she'll forgive him soon (give it three months).

Rhaenys likes fine things, has a different plating arrangement for every occasion and works of art worth thousands. But don't be fooled, her grandkids only managed to make her remove the plastic cover from the couch three months ago.

Jacaerys is currently away at university engaged in a rooming situationship. Neither has discovered yet you can actually fold clothes and that the drawers are there for something. They are half a month away from contracting scurvy since all they eat is ramen noodles, pizza and chicken nuggets.

Rhaenyra enjoys the antique style of her home, it's a family heirloom with invaluable furniture and modern amenities. One benefit is that she doesn't have to take care of the kids while they are lost in the maze of tunnels under the mansion. Daemon also lives there, but the only thing he owns in that house is a bottle of three in one shampoo and his viagra pills.

Alicent's house used to look like Rhaenyra's until Viserys got sick and she started binging the Property Brothers. She thinks a cozzy almost monochrome house is an improvement. The only colour besides earth tones and white allowed in the house is sage green. Yes, she needs 26 cushions on the sofa, she doesn't care it's uncomfortable.

Aemond's house is... concerning. He claims to keep it permanently wrapped up due to OCD but he has also soundproofed it (to sleep better). His neighbours have yet to see anyone leaving (he has no friends).

Enter at your own peril.

Baela and Rhaena have managed to rent a very cossy and spacious apartment. It has a lot of plants, a great location and a sunny balcony. The only problem in paradise is that Lucerys (Rhaena's boyfriend) seems to think he also lives there despite contributing nothing to rent or utilities. He just wont leave, and keeps eating all of their left overs. Baela is, putting it lightly, at the end of her rope.

[sightseertrespasser]

"I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically" Staring at you with big HUGE eyes. I would love to hear the tangent

Alrighty then.

First things first, what is Tacnet?

Sometimes also referred to as a Battle computer, Tacnet is short for Tactical Network and its ostensibly the worlds most demented excel spreadsheet.

In more literal terms, Tacnet is a type of supercomputer.

Supercomputers are incredibly useful pieces of technology. Able to run simulations, predictive algorithms and utilizing real world statistics to essentially speculate the past, present or future. The bottleneck for a regular old supercomputer is that someone has to sit down and manually input all the information necessary for those calculations.

You want to know what kind of gun made that specific bullet hole?

Well first the supercomputer needs the ballistics data off as many kinds of guns as possible, then it needs data on the material that was shot, and it also needs as much information as possible on the bullet hole in question.

You skip out on any of that input and the odds of the supercomputer being correct gets progressively lower.

Problem is, the supercomputer can’t actually think, and therefore can’t estimate how accurate its own calculations are. A computer works in total binary. If it only has the ballistic data for three kinds of guns, it doesn’t matter how much the bullet hole doesn’t match the data sets its been provided, the supercomputer will select whichever of the three matches the hole the most closely.

A computer, no matter how advanced, is incapable of knowing when it doesn’t know something.

But people on the other hand. . .

We turn now to an ambitious young R&D developer many millennia ago.

Once upon a time, this member of Research and Development was on the team responsible for designing new Cold Constructed mechs for Sentinel Prime. And they had a GREAT idea.

“I’ve got it!” They say, unaware of the ominous music rising in the background.

“The great powers of the supercomputer cannot be realized within its current limitations! Its greatest flaws are that it must be stationary, it must be manually fed information and all calculations it does generate must be reviewed by a thinking mech!”

Their coworkers groan. It’s too early in the morning for this shit.

“Therefore!” The mech says, quickly sketching out a box full of smaller boxes that is supposed to be a computer and the miserable approximation of a mech.

“We simply remove the separation, and make the mech itself the data intake for the supercomputer!”

Lightning crashes in the distance, someone tiredly gets the fire extinguisher. Again.

It’s not a hard sales pitch for a totalitarian government to go “Yeah we want super-cops. Here’s the money, make it happen.”

And in a tale as old as capitalism, an untested feature was rolled out with catastrophic consequences.

If you’ve read my tangent on how Crashes work, then you already know about logic cascades.

Tacnet is a supercomputer. A tool. Like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it, and someone who really doesn’t know what they’re doing is liable to hurts themselves.

So what can Tacnet really do in the hands (or processor) of a master?

Some psychic-type level nonsense. Anyone who’s gotten the hang of their Tacnet, in their own fields of expertise, are able to know exactly what will happen before anyone else.

Let’s compare Smokescreen, Bluestreak and then Prowls Tacnets and how they’re used.

Every Tacnet starts the same, but can be developed and trained to excel at different things.

Smokescreen - Place Your Bets

Smokescreen has trained his to work best for gambling. “Training” can be anything from downloading tables of statistical analysis to personally observing the phenomenon and making notes.

Let’s look at rolling dice. If you rolled a six sided die, any number is equally likely to be rolled. Or 16.67 % odds for each.

So if 3 dice are rolled, then every total value outcome from 3 to 18 must be equal odds as well, right?

Nope! If three six sided dice are rolled, there is a 12.5 % (or 25% if you combine them) chance it’ll be a 10 or 11. And that’s out of sixteen possible outcomes.

So if you know the difference but your opposition doesn’t, then suddenly you have a huge advantage while betting. And this is just the most simplified example I can think of.

If you’ve got the time, statistics are absolutely wild and there’s a mathematical equation for pretty much anything.

All Smokescreen has to do to get good at a game is learn the rules and then plug in the numbers. You know how card counting will get you banned from most casinos? Well Smokescreens worked that out too. Talking to other players (collecting preexisting data points) he can find the average of how much he can win in a night before people get too pissy.

Another thing Smokescreen has going for him (especially over Prowl) is that Smokescreen is much better at reading people. He doesn’t just have statics on the games, but the players.

Mapping out the connections between individuals and taking personal motivations into account, Smokescreen at his peak can not only predict who the winners will be, but he can also predict who will loose on purpose, who will bet the most, who will cheat and who will seek to take their winnings by force.

Experience, experience, experience is the golden ticket.

Also, it’s Smokescreen himself who has to craft the profiles of his victims gambling buddies. Once fleshed out, Tacnet can do wonders mid game, giving Smokescreen room to focus on his social schemes instead.

Luckily, after the burning of Praxus, most people don’t really know what a Tacnet is truly capable of. So Smokescreen looses just often enough to keep folks from realizing that he always knows how every game will play out before they even start.

Bluestreak - Shoot Your Shot

Going in the opposite direction of utility, Bluestreaks Tacnet is all about kinetic calculations.

This fucker is doing the type of math that’s more letters than numbers. Constantly.

Air resistance, velocity, acceleration, gravity, weight, density, temperature, vector, displacement and time.

There’s equations that call for each and every one of those factors, usually in combination.

Your average sniper, even a good one, is usually considering wind speeds, the pull of gravity and the distance from the target when lining up a shot. Bluestreak is taking in all that and then working out the influences of about 15 more factors on top of that. Even before he’s picking where exactly on the target he’s going to hit. Since remember, if he’s got data on not just his own weapons but his enemies defenses, then it really becomes as simple as “would you like them disabled or dead?”

Aim is no longer a question of ability, but an equation to be solved.

Still, physical capabilities does play a part since a steady hand goes a long way towards realizing those calculations.

Tacnet may crunch the numbers, but Bluestreak is the one who has to find all the details relevant to the shot and pick which ones to feed to the machine.

Additionally, Bluestreaks Tacnet in particular has the experimental feature of massively increasing the amount of sensory data he can take in per second, effectively causing him to perceive things in slow motion. This is less something Tacnet is doing, and more a case of Bluestreaks own processor utilizing the bandwidth normally taken up by Tacnet.

Tacnet itself takes a substantial amount of power to run. Normally, it causes problems by siphoning too much power from other systems to do its job (see logic cascade crashes). But Bluestreak has the funny little quirk of somehow doing that in reverse. So when his sense of time dilation becomes maxed out, Tacnet isn’t running the formulas to help him shoot anymore, it’s just Bluestreaks own skills at that point.

Outside of that rare circumstance, Bluestreak is effectively playing with aimbot in real life.

Prowl - Know Your Fate

So we’ve established that Tacnet is powered by mathematical formulas and data collection.

What would happen if someone just, kept going? Kept feeding it? Building up more and more infrastructure for Tacnet to grow around until it has a point of reference for almost anything?

You get an oracle.

Prowl puts the Tactical back into Tacnet. He’s essentially the Jack of all Trades and Master of several of those subjects actually.

Sure, Smokescreen has him beat for behavioral analysis, and Bluestreak is leagues beyond what Prowl can calculate for trajectories. But no one has doubled down on what Tacnet can really do like Prowl has.

You know that (not actually true) statistic about how humans only use 25% of their brains? That’s your average Tacnet user.

Prowl just happens to be insane.

He is constantly taking in new data. He is constantly taking notes, making observations, stripping it down to the raw numbers involved and packing it away into monumental resource centers for Tacnet to refer to.

You ever see someone who’s really good with excel sheets and then see them do some shit you didn’t know excel sheets could even do?

It’s kinda like that.

If you’ve ever read the classic Sherlock Holmes stories, a lot of what makes Sherlock so effective is having such a detailed knowledge of the world around him.

Let’s go back to the bullet hole analysis.

Prowl could look at the bullet hole and tell you after two minutes: “It was this specific Cargo vessel at this time with an illegal weapon.”

From the outside, this looks like a baseless guess. But to Prowl it looks like this:

a) The gun must be a new imported weapon as nothing he currently has on file matches the marking its made in that kind of material.

b) The shooter not only missed their shot, but was shooting downward at an excessive angle. Indicating this was a very large mech firing downward at a much smaller target, likely a mini bot.

c) The shooter can be exactly tracked by looking at the local registry for recent out bound flights, specifically ones with no cargo.

Why? Because the shooter is most likely a transport shuttle. Easy access to imported goods, very large but not a war frame (hence the missed shot) and having failed to kill their victim, would flee town immediately without waiting to take on cargo.

Of those two minutes it took, he spent 1:30 waiting for the flight records to load so he could look up the name of the shuttle.

Scale those skills up to a war room, and Prowl not only knows why an enemy troop is retreating, but where they’re retreating to, what losses they must have taken and whether or not it’ll be worth it to finish the job.

Prowl isn’t smart because he has a Tacnet. Tacnet is OP because Prowl is that smart.

When I write his perspective, Prowl often has an accuracy percentage attached to his calculations. Tacnet isn’t the thing making those estimates. Prowl is the one judging how accurate Tacnets suggestions are.

Dudes just a freak.

—————————

In summary, Tacnet is like if you had every kind of calculator in your pocket and the only limit was how many equations you’ve added on and the amount of information you can feed it.

That last bit is the biggest challenge for Tacnet, as conflicting or flawed data can cause. . . Issues. Aka Logic Cascades. Aka “Why can’t I make it make sense.” Disease.

Let’s just say there’s a reason not many people know what Tacnet is capable of, as a lot of early Praxian Enforcers could be taken out by confusing emotions, plot holes, and particularly well executed magic tricks.

Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence when your new shiny police force can be hospitalized by watching Back to the Future 2.

Being one of the first Cold Constructs built with a Tacnet, Smokescreen figured out how to mostly get around that glitch early on and taught Prowl and Bluestreak how to do the same. In this particular setting, Tacnet is poorly understood and best kept mostly secret for those reasons.

(Bizarrely, between Tacnet and the radar uses of doorwings, Prowl and his brothers would actually be really good at predicting the weather.)

———————————————————————

Bonus bit: Good fucking lord it would absolutely terrifying if you could somehow combine Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreaks skills into like a Tacnet hivemind or something.

Though with wing speak, to an outsider that’s probably what it already looks like.

———

The three brothers look at the same bullet hole, silently communicating in a way the local non-Praxian officer couldn’t pick up on.

“Oh yeah, looks like Rotor didn’t like Brick cutting into his half of the dirty money. Slippery little guy but you can find both their hideouts here and here.” Smokescreen, the eldest, pulls up a map for reference.

Prowl is already out the door, Bluestreak is lining up a shot through the window.

“What is he. . ?” The other officer looks from Bluestreak. Then to Prowl, trailing off, “Where is the other one. . ?”

“Oh Prowls off to arrest the shooter.”

“But he’s a grounder, can’t Rotor fly?”

A shot rings out.

“Not anymore!”

[doberbutts]

is it just me or is like the whole stuff of cishet men dni and (cis perisex) women only spaces conflating vulnerability with safety? like, with a cis man and a cis woman who otherwise have quote unquote equal positions in society otherwise, there's the risk (or put it danger) from him being able to use his male privilege against her. but if it were a trans man or another cis woman instead that doesn't make them safe and unable to weaponize misogyny or commit interpersonal violence against her, they are just vulnerable to her ability to fight back so to speak in ways that the cis man isn't. but it feels like (general) we talk about these things like they're the same.

I firmly believe that every single transgender person is a marginalized gender due to their transgender status- this is something that I have seen discussed within black transfeminism regularly (see also: MaGe) and yet we get onto tumblr and suddenly all of that disappears under "by effect of being a man you inherently have male privilege and your very existence oppresses all women" rather than realize that transgender people as a whole operate within a structure of marginalization themselves.

As I have said repeatedly- it's not that I don't think trans men are capable of having male privilege (we are) or that I don't think trans men can contribute to and even utilize misogyny to our benefit (we can) - it's that the power and effect of this can depend wildly from trans man to trans man, and what one trans man is capable of might be well out of reach for another.

I have a good friend who is, on paper, demographically very similar to me. She is a cis lesbian, black/white/native, occupying the same tax bracket and occupation, disabled and neurodiverse. We've had extensive discussions about black and gender and gay politics, even when we don't agree we can usually see where each other is coming from.

I have absolutely no problem stating that in certain situations, I do absolutely have privilege over her despite my status as trans and hers as cis. I'm fairly cis-passing at this point. We go out to eat together whenever we can- it is demonstratably significantly more likely that she will be hit on and harassed by a cishet man looking to shoot his shot with a pretty girl than I am. It is significantly more likely that any and all pushback she gives this hypothetical man will be, at best, ignored, and at worst, met with physical or sexual violence. It is also significantly more likely that my very presence at the table will prevent him from doing so, as my approximate physical positioning to her acts as a claim to would-be creeps, and any pushback I give in this scenario is more likely to be met with him backing off.

It's also true that should this would-be creep clock me, register either of our gay signaling, or be racist on top of sexist, this situation might also go sideways for the both of us at any given point. It's entirely possible that this guy will spike her drink when I get up to use the bathroom, or that he'll follow us out to the parking lot and stab one of us, or cause a scene to get us both kicked out. We are both black and gay, after all. Intersectionality is key, here.

Three years ago, I had not yet started testosterone. I only passed maybe 50% of the time, and usually assumed to be a teenager despite being just touching 30. Three years ago, this hypothetical situation would have played out much differently.

Twelve years ago, it did. I was in college and had gone to a local McDonalds with one of my friends, another student there, for lunch. A man old enough to be our grandfather began to hit on us, ignoring our pushback and attempts to move away from and ignore him. I was binding at the time, with my hair cut short, going by he/him exclusively with my friends and out within my college sphere. And yet, what made this guy back off was my (white) cishet friend who prickled at him and began to make a scene until he heard that we were college students, at which point he disengaged entirely. Yup- he was looking for high schoolers to creep on, and we both made various noises of disgust once we realized his actual target.

Being a trans man had very little if any effect on this situation- my presence at the table was no help, my refusal to play ball was no help telling him to go away and that we were not interested was no help. The only thing that helped was killing his pedophile boner once he knew we were adults. I shudder to think what would have happened had we actually been kids.

Back to my cis lesbian friend and the present day- the portion of the sport and dog fancy we both occupy is very cis woman dominated. She can and often does flex what power she has in order to help others get their start- we joke often that she's collecting a posse of trans men as she's somehow managed to sell to majority trans men with her most recent litter. She has no problem wading into a situation where a trans man is being ejected from a queer group and arguing for his right to stay. Early on in my transition, she would loudly correct pretty much anyone misgendering me until that person fixed their shit- and would hover making faces behind me if I was present at a show and they were being a shit about it.

She also sometimes goes on woman-only retreats. And, to be clear, it is her opinion that a trans woman by definition of being a woman should be invited to these retreats. She does not want men at these woman-only retreats, and that does include trans men. And, you know what? I don't really blame her- she wants a space where her womanhood is centered and not have to deal with Men And Their Feelings. Fair- men can be exhausting to deal with especially for lesbians. But she also agrees that maybe pushing a freshly-out trans man out of the group is perhaps a bit cruel if he has been there for years. Most likely, he will go on his own once he gets his feet under him. There's no need to shove him out the door prematurely.

And I think that's really the crux of it.

[witherby]

Can mouse forcefully get spit out if the pocket dimension? Like if theyre in that dimension in a dark room in that blob from, but the room had like ALL the lights turn on from every angle so no shadow is cast, would they fly out?

Fantastic question!! I'll answer you in three separate scenarios.

If Flittermouse goes into the darkness of a room and then all of the lights get turned on, thus generating no shadows at all, Mouse simply wouldn't be able to re-emerge in that room. They would have to travel through their pocket dimension to a space that is dark, and pop back out from there.

If they slip into a shadow, then manifest as a dark little blob where a shadow doesn't naturally form, and then the room becomes bright, it's distinctly uncomfortable. They can hold position for a short while, but fighting against light will wear them out, and they'll release the flat form they have to rest in the pocket dimension. Dim light can be overpowered and disabled to eliminate the problem, but lights with powerful lumens are overwhelming and often avoided.

And the same is true in reverse! If Mouse is in an already bright room that isn't generating any shadows (which I'll be utilizing in my angsty Conner prompt btw 😏), they can't slip into the darkness to leave it. Mouse cannot create darkness from nothing; it has to be in the same space they're occupying in order for them to be able to manipulate it.

Long story short: once Flittermouse has made it into the dark, they can't be forced out. But if you catch them out of the dark and illuminate the space, they can't get in.

Thank you for asking! I've been sitting on that info for a looong time wondering if anybody was interested 🩷

[kpopfanfictrash]

Jingle All the Way Collaboration

Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.

All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!

Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!

(Links to be added as fics are posted)

Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas

Author: @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed

Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Posting Date: December 19th, 2023

Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon

Author: @leahsfavefics

Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au

Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.

Posting Date: December 21st, 2023

Title: Back to December

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au

Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: A Christmas Fix

Author: @yoonia

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)

Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

Title: Everwinter

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au

Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: Miracle of the Season

Author: @cybrsan

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au

Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Posting Date: December 29th, 2023

Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays

Author: @sugaurora

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au

Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.

Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.

What’s a former porn star to do?

Posting Date: TBD

[sarahelizasims]

Clean lines, warm woods, and moody accents come together in this striking row of three contemporary townhouses. With a cohesive façade that balances symmetry and individuality, each unit offers an open-concept layout, oversized windows, and a calming neutral palette inside.

Think sun-drenched living spaces, sleek kitchens, and tranquil bedrooms, all wrapped in a design that feels equal parts sophisticated and soulful. Private courtyards add a touch of nature, making these homes the perfect blend of city edge and serene escape—tailored for Sims with taste.

40 x 30

Residential Rental Lot

Requirements:

Turn bb.moveobjects on before placing.  *optional* TwistedMexi has a script mod that does it for you automatically, so there is no reason to always have to type it in.

T.O.O.L by TwistedMexi.

Required CC - Please refer to the included PDF document for downloading items that were not included in the zip file, as some are still in early access.

The lush red hydrangeas are a recolor; download the mesh here.

FYI - For some reason, the stairs by the false bakery shop disappear whenever I mess around with the area, like changing wallpaper or adding walls. It is a weird glitch. Whenever it gets removed, just add it back again.

My game is DirectX11, so you may need to update your images to DX11 in the Sims 4 Studio.

And of course, if anything isn't right and you need help with something, please do not hesitate to message me! Feel free to comment, send a message to me on Tumblr, or utilize my community chat! I would like to use it more. ♡

Terms of Use:

Do not re-upload my lots and claim them as your own.

You're welcome to edit or modify my builds, but please remember to credit me as the original creator!

Do not put my builds behind a paywall.

I've included some of my recolors, please refer to those posts for their TOU.

Thank you to all CC Creators.

Please let me know if there's any problem with the build. Tag @sarahelizasims so I can see your gameplay and any personal touches you've made!

📥DOWNLOAD (Google Drive)