#when i have all data + and the time to do it i will actually make a proper literary analysis of this

[suzukiblu]

So like, I don’t actually remember where I first saw the concept of soulmates getting access to each other’s superpowers but I very much needed to write something about it. Especially because that thought gave me some thoughts about how certain characters' origins/powers have gotten retconned, and welllll . . . We'll just call this WIP behind the cut here "soulmate superpowers".

The real problem with the marked increase in the global population of superpowered individuals both on Earth and in reality in general is what happens when they meet their soulmates. And the problem also depends, depending on the kind of soulmate. With romantic and platonic soulmates, the problem only happens on and off, which is much more manageable. 

Familial soulmates, though . . . for those the problem isn’t just “sometimes”, and therefore isn’t quite as “manageable”. 

Cadmus didn’t really tell Experiment Thirteen much about how soulmates worked, though, so when the full Kryptonian powerset only kicked in after the Kid met the real, original Superman for the first time . . . 

Well. He hadn’t known that was something he maybe should’ve thought a little more about, at the time.

.

.

.

“Wait up,” Serling Roquette says, staring down blankly at her tablet. She’s sixteen and crazy-weird and brand-new to Cadmus and showed up in wild clothes to apparently run the genetics department now that they’re under new management. Or something like that, Superboy guesses. He only signed on about five minutes before Roquette did, but she asked for a DNA sample to compare to his previous on-file samples and, like, cross-reference with them or whatever, he doesn’t know, he kinda stopped understanding what she was talking about by that point. “You’re supposed to have Kryptonian DNA in your setup?” 

“. . . uh,” Superboy says, because what kind of question is that? “Yeah? Like, no shit, doc, I didn’t get heat vision and ice breath from the human half.” 

Admittedly he is terrible with both of them, but he does have them. He just kinda avoids using them, is all. He fucks enough shit up with his TTK as it is; he doesn’t need to add frost damage and burny melty destruction on top of that. 

He’s thought about asking Superman for tips on ‘em a couple times, but he always feels real stupid when he does. Like, what kind of an even-only-half Kryptonian is he, if he can’t figure that shit out on his own? Superman did. And hell, even that asshole Henshaw did, and that prick isn’t even actually Kryptonian, he just– 

“This is human DNA, youngblood,” Roquette says, looking up at him. “Like, literally all human DNA. Real heavily augmented human DNA, we're talking ultra-crush gravity here, but like–you know, like somebody tried to forge the artist’s signature, but they didn’t actually think to use the right pen?” 

“What?” Superboy says blankly. 

“Do people not actually ever look at your DNA?” Roquette says. “Is that not a thing? You’re a clone, how are people not ever actually looking at your DNA?” 

“People look at it all the time,” Superboy says, still thrown off by what it sounds like she’s saying. That’s–he’s not–what is she saying? 

“Are they, like, mad stupid, then?” Roquette asks skeptically, wrinkling her nose and raising an eyebrow. “It’s literally the wrong pen. It’s the wrong ink. It’s not even a pen!” 

“I have literally no idea what you’re sayin’, Doc,” Superboy says, staring blankly at her. 

“I’m saying you’re about as Kryptonian as a human can get, which is literally zero point zero percent,” Roquette replies frankly, half-waving her tablet at him. “Whoever built you–” 

“Mostly Dabney Donovan, unfortunately,” Superboy says. 

“–okay, well, is Dabney Donovan as much of a lying shithead as I’ve always heard?” Roquette asks, waving her tablet at him again. “Because the data supports him being a lying shithead. He twisted your genes through a Kryptonian-shaped mold, maybe, but they’re still human genes. Fully and totally and like, seriously, does no one ever look at your DNA?” 

“I’m just human?” Superboy says blankly. “I–no I’m not! I have Kryptonian powers!” 

“Yeah, about that,” Roquette says. “No you don’t.” 

“What?” he says. She flips her tablet to face him; stabs a brightly-manicured nail emphatically at a bunch of figures and graphs he can’t understand at all. 

“You don’t have a single superpower except for tactile telekinesis,” she replies, frank and matter-of-fact. “None nada nothing and zip zilch zero. Genetically speaking, you are a highly-specialized highly-flexible telekinetic, but that’s it. That’s all you got in the playbook, youngblood."

Superboy stares at her. She keeps holding her tablet up like he’s gonna just suddenly magically understand what all the figures and graphs on it mean. 

“What?” he repeats, and feels like a fucking idiot about it. 

“When did you get the Kryptonian powers?” Roquette asks. “Like, did you come straight out the cloning solution with those, or . . . ?” 

“I didn’t get any yellow sun in development,” Superboy says, feeling–disconnected, sort of, and a little numb. What does–that doesn’t–he’s Superman’s clone. Like, only halfway, but– 

If he’s not Superman’s clone . . . is he just made out of that piece of shit Westfield, if . . . ? 

“Okay,” Roquette says. “So did you get the powers soon as you hit daylight, then?” 

“No,” he says. “I didn’t–not until–” 

When did they start kicking in? It took a few weeks or so, he knows. Maybe . . . maybe a little bit longer? It was– 

“Did it happen before you met Big Blue, or after?” Roquette asks real pointedly, and Superboy thinks he stops thinking, maybe. Just–everything in his head disappears all at once, and his mind goes totally blank, and . . . and he . . . 

“I’m not–I–” he tries to say, and doesn’t even know what he is trying to say. 

“Yeah,” Roquette says. “Like I said. You don’t have Kryptonian powers. You’ve got your soulmate’s powers.” 

Superboy stares at her for one more second, then bolts out of the lab without another word.

[kybercrystals94]

Of Scene Breaks and Plot Twists

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 2256 | Summary: The members of Clone Force 99 have an unwanted guest.

A/N: For Christmas, I wrote an entirely unserious, indulgent little fic because I can…so I did.

I am totally making fun of myself with this fic…apologies to the characters for not always (read: rarely) having a plan when I write.

I dedicate this story to every fanfic writer I know and don’t. May you never cease to amaze with your creativity and dedication to the art…you are a gift to the communities you partake in.

“Alright, boys, settle down,” Hunter says, walking into the cockpit. “We’ve got our next mission.”

“Do we actually get to blow something up this time?” Wrecker asks, sitting up in the seat he was slouching in.

Crosshair takes out his toothpick and flicks it at Wrecker, the sliver of wood bouncing harmlessly off the giant’s shoulder. “Or shoot something?”

“We have been on three consecutive data retrieval missions with no enemy engagement,” Tech states.

Echo points out, “Which is a good thing. It means we did our job well.”

“It means they were boring!” Wrecker declares.

Tech and Crosshair nod.

“I won’t promise anything,” Hunter says, grinning, “However, there is a high probability of explosions and shooting taking place this time around.”

The news receives reactive sounds of approval from most of the members of Clone Force 99. However, Echo isn’t fooling anyone with his eye roll. He’s been craving action as much as any of his brothers.

“So, what is it?” Echo asks.

“What’s what?” Hunter asks.

Echo frowns at him. “The mission?”

Hunter looks down at the data pad in his hand. “I…I don’t know. Nothing’s come through.”

“But you just said–”

“Sorry, sorry! That’s my fault,” I say, pushing myself up from the wall I was leaning against. “I’m sorta writing this as I go. I have no idea what your mission is yet. The keyword here is yet, because I’m sure it will come to me as we go.”

I’m honestly not sure what sort of reaction I expected, but five blasters pulled on me was not on the agenda. I put my hands up, heart battering in my throat. “Woah, woah, hey!” I cry, “Don’t shoot!”

“Who are you and how did you get on our ship?” Hunter growls, blaster still carefully poised to take me out if I make any wrong move.

I swallow. “I’m a fanfic writer. I’m the one writing this story.”

Oh. This is my story. Ha, sorta forgot that I can just…

The Batch lower their weapons with bewildered expressions, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What just happened?” Wrecker asks. “Why’d we all lower our blasters like that?”

“I told you, I’m writing this story. I’m a fanfic writer,” I say, and, bolstered by my own abilities, I walk over and take a seat in behind Tech, turning the chair to face my darling characters. Aww, they look so sweet when they’re confused.

“You’re using some sort of mind trick,” Tech tells me. “You’re a Force user.”

I laugh. “I wish, but no. I’m just a humble fanfic writer, I promise.”

“You obviously know we don’t understand what that means,” Hunter says, and he sounds so annoyed. A little Crosshair-like, if I’m being honest. “So explain it. Now.”

Bossy.

“Fine,” I sigh, reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone.

Tech’s eyes light up, and I can tell he wants to ask about it; however, a sharp look from Hunter makes him settle back in the pilot’s chair. I make a mental note to show it to him once I’ve calmed everybody down.

For the sake of my gentle reader, I won’t get into the vaguely detailed explanation I gave the boys. It did not go well, and nobody calmed down. After all, how do you explain that someone’s reality and existence is fictional in your reality…without giving them spoilers for their futures? Then you would have to get into fix-its and canon and head canon and all that complicated jargon. Suffice to say, I had to again utilize my writing power to make them sit down and shut up for two seconds while I assured them that their lives were very much “real”, and that I am just trying to share one of their stories with my world…and also that I am making it up on the fly.

“I would like to study these works of fiction,” Tech says.

I ensure my phone is locked and secured in my pocket. “Mmm…maybe later.”

“So, basically,” Crosshair says, and somehow he manages to sound genuine and sarcastic at the same time, “you are calling all the shots and we have no freewill.”

I guess it does sound bad when he puts it like that.

“How about a compromise,” I say, “I’ll let you boys ‘call the shots’, and I’ll just write it down…if you stop threatening to shoot me out of the airlock. Deal?”

They collectively look unimpressed.

I continue stubbornly, “I’m not going anywhere until I have my story. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for weeks, and this is the first decent idea I’ve had.”

“Half-baked is more like,” Echo grumbles. “Kriffing idiot.”

“See?” I say, splaying a hand at the cyborg, “If I were controlling everything, would I be letting y’all verbally assault me?”

“Let me shoot you with a blaster, and I’ll be convinced,” Crosshair says with a menacing flash of teeth that I think might be some sort of smile.

Suppressing a shudder, I roll my eyes. “The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I’ll get out of here. Then I’ll never bother you again…”

…In person.

I love internal dialogue.

“Fine,” Hunter agrees after a long, long bout of silence. “What’s our mission then?”

Oh. Right. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.

Scrambling to come up with something, I say, “Alright, you should have a mission on your data pad now.”

Hunter looks down at his device. “It just says data extraction mission from blank.”

“Hey!” Wrecker objects, loudly, “I thought there was gonna be explosions and shooting!”

Tech takes the data pad from Hunter. “Not to mention the parameters of the mission are unfathomably vague.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, putting up my hands. “How about now?”

“Dangerous data extraction mission from insert planet name here,” Tech reads aloud.

Echo groans. “You have to give us more than that!”

“I don’t usually have to come up with all the details.”

“You’ve given us literally nothing,” Crosshair says, “Less than nothing.”

“You are making it very difficult to believe that anyone reads your stories willingly,” Tech says.

I narrow my eyes.

**

“What just happened?” Hunter asks.

We are in hyperspace, coordinates safely secured in the nav computer, boys fully aware of the mission parameters.

My work here is done.

“That, my friends, is called a scene break,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Now, tell me about this mission.”

“Why would we go over it again?” Crosshair asks, annoyed. “We’ve been arguing strategy for the past hour.”

“So I can write it down.”

“What do you mean so you can write it down? I thought that’s what you were doing!”

I shake my head. “No, see, that’s the point of a scene break. I can skip writing all the monotony and just give readers the jist of it. So, give me the summary of the mission and I’ll write down the important bits I care about.”

Echo gapes at me. “You mean to tell me you still don’t know what the mission is?”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me,” I tell him patiently.

The boys exchange glances. I can see in their microexpressions that they’ve come to some sort of agreement that I am not going to like. Now wait a minute…

“Don’t tell the writer anything, boys,” Hunter says, turning back to the nav computer. “They get to come along for the ride, just like they wanted.”

“You can’t do that!” I cry.

“We just did, di’kut.” Crosshair begins polishing his rifle, the item having appeared during the scene break. “We’re in charge now.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going,” I implore weakly.

“Classified,” Echo says.

“Is it still a data extraction mission?”

Tech has the audacity to shrug. He’s scrolling through my phone. How…when…?

“Hey, give that back,” I say, lunging forward to snatch it from him.

He evades me easily, and I go sprawling across the durasteel floor.

Rolling over, I glare up at the commandos grinning down at me. “I’m still the writer,” I say, “I can still do whatever I want and know whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” Crosshair taunts.

I must not be completely over my writer’s block after all, because nothing comes to mind. Somehow, the characters are in charge. Kriff.

“Tech,” I say, returning to the topic of my phone, “you can’t be looking at that stuff.”

“These tags are concerning,” Tech mutters, continuing to scroll as if I hadn’t said anything. “Hurt forward slash comfort? Angst? Fluff? Whump? What do these mean? That is, what is the context?”

I hate to do it, but I use my writing ability to put the phone back in my hands before Tech hurts himself emotionally. “Some things are better left unknown, Tech.”

“I swear,” Crosshair growls, “if any of those fanfics are sappy, I will shoot you out the airlock. I don’t care about our ‘deal’.”

“I’m not the only fanfic writer, okay? There are thousands of us.”

“Sounds like a nasty infestation,” Echo says.

“I’ll have you know,” I tell him primly, “we are a lovely community.”

Wrecker, the sweet boy, offers to help me to my feet, putting a hand out. I grip it and he hauls me up a little too roughly, nearly dislocating my shoulder. I grin at him nonetheless. “Thanks, Wreck.”

“Sure thing, writer,” he tells me. He leans in. “In those fanfic thingies you write, do I get to blow stuff up a lot?”

“Uhm, well,” I say, sitting back down, “it depends on the purpose of fic, really.”

“Whadda you mean? Aren’t they all just missions you make up for us?”

Crosshair huffs. “Or pretend to make up?”

“Listen,” I say, leaning around Wrecker to glare at the sniper, “I have writer’s block. Most of the time I think of legitimate missions.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

“Well, one time, you were on this planet getting intel and the building that Echo and Tech was in collapsed and the rest of you had to dig them out.”

“What planet was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What was the intel?”

“Important.”

“So you just make whatever the kark you want up and people actually read it?” Echo asks.

Offended by the oversimplification of my work, I retort, “Well, I like to focus more on character development than missions. But that’s just me. Other writers are a heck of a lot better at writing mission stories.”

“Then how’d we get stuck with you?” Crosshair asks, throwing his wadded up polishing rag at me.

I wish I could say I caught it, but it hits me in the face.

“You know what,” I sputter, tossing the rag aside, “Scene…”

**

“...break.”

We are standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded on both sides by droids.

“Would you stop doing that?” Hunter shouts at me over the din of blasterfire.

I crouch down next to Tech at a control panel. “Hey, can I borrow one of your blasters?”

“Write yourself one,” he says, deadpan, keeping his focus on hacking into the Separatist system.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Tech rolls his eyes and passes over one of his blasters. “Please take care not to shoot one of us.”

“I think I can handle it.”

I cannot handle it. My first shot goes wide and high, taking out a light in the ceiling. Before I can try again, someone snatches the blaster out of my hand.

“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” It’s Echo.

“If that’s a legitimate risk, let them keep it,” Crosshair calls out.

“Aw, don’t hurt yourself, little writer person,” Wrecker says, scooping me up under one arm, “I’ll protect ya!”

I kick my legs and flail my arms, dangling haplessly in his grip. “Put me down!”

“Not until we’re out of here,” Hunter orders.

Fine then.

**

We’re back on the Marauder. The boys’ dark armor is covered in spatters of dried mud, and the right lens of Tech’s goggles has a crack in it.

“What happened to you?” I ask, sitting comfortably in the pilot’s chair, unscathed.

“You’d know if you stuck around to find out,” Crosshair growls.

“Apparently, I was just in the way back there. So I skipped ahead.”

“You’ve been in the way this whole time,” Hunter mutters.

Oh. Those are fighting words.

I smile, and I hope it appears as devilish as I feel. “Plot twist.”

**

I’m not sure what the creature is, but it’s ugly. It’s covered in some sort of goo and it smells putrid.

And it’s gnawing on the Marauder. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have teeth, so the ship won’t be damaged, but it will leave a residue that probably won’t be fun to scrub off later.

“What in the universe is that?” Wrecker asks.

We’ve moved outside of the ship, and we’ve discovered that the creature simply absorbs blaster bolts and is completely unfazed. The boys will have to distract it somehow, lure it away.

How inconvenient.

“This was uncalled for,” Tech says, turning to glare at me.

“Did you see it coming?” I ask. When I am not dignified with a response from any of them, I add, “Plot twist successful.”

“How are we supposed to get rid of it?” Echo asks.

I shrug. “Maybe you boys will figure it out by the next chapter.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘next chapter’?”

“And this is what we writers like to call,” I say, smiling sweetly, “a cliffhanger.”

TBC

A/N: Will I ever actually finish this fic?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

‘Tis the nature of fanfic, isn’t it? ;D

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[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 23 version 2: small cock(erel). aka a chick. No pairings. About 1.2k words. This is very silly and partially inspired by this post.

It happens on a Sunday, luckily after the race is over. One moment Max is standing beside him, distractedly grabbing his bottle while looking at the data GP is pointing at, and the next he's gone.

GP blinks, startled and confused, as the sound of the bottle falling to the ground gets swallowed by the noise of the busy garage.

He looks around, sure that he will just find Max one step away, but Max isn't there. The mechanics are still there, as is Jonathan, hunched over his notes just two stools away. Everything looks the same it did ten seconds ago except...no Max.

GP blinks again, rubbing his eyes. He knows he's tired, it's been a long weekend at the end of a long triple header, but he is not this tired. There is no way he would just imagine Max being there, especially since the water bottle is still very much on the ground, and there is no way he would just miss Max leaving.

So the only explanation is that Max has disappeared in thin air. Which is not much of an explanation at all.

"John?" he calls, reaching over to tap Jonathan's arm. He's not sure what his face is doing at the moment, but it must be something weird, because Jonathan's expression goes from distracted and mildly annoyed to very focused immediately.

"What's happening?" he asks, reaching for the headphones around his neck as if he's expecting to have missed some information from there.

Except it's much worse, and weirder, than that.

GP opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again. He knows there is no way to make this sound less crazy than it is, but he would love to find a way anyway.

"Have you, uh, seen Max?" he starts cautiously.

Maybe he is more tired than he thought. Maybe he did miss Max leaving, or maybe he's been speaking to himself the whole time.

Or maybe not, given how Jonathan is looking at him.

"Max? Verstappen? Who was here just a second ago?"

"Do we have other Maxs?" GP can't help to ask back, rolling his eyes a little. Okay, he is acting weird, he knows that, but there's no need to ask stupid questions.

Except, maybe there is.

"He was here, right?"

Jonathan's left eyebrow jumps towards his hairline, as he swivels around on the stool, giving GP his undivided attention.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you need medical?"

Yeah, that's fair. Maybe GP does, because this is absurd.

He sighs, dragging a hand down his face and sitting on the stool right next to Jonathan's.

"I am fine, but..." he pauses again, but it's useless to hesitate at this point. "I lost Max."

The second eyebrow joins the other high up on Jonathan's forehead.

"You lost Max," he repeats, skeptic but not dismissive. Yet.

"I know how it sounds, but he was here right next to me," GP finally explains, pointing at the very clearly empty space near them, "and then he dropped his bottle and disappeared."

Jonathan looks down at the bottle, still on the floor, then up again at GP.

"He didn't step away?"

GP is very grateful for Jonathan for many reasons, but the fact that he is actually listening and not just dragging him to medical is one of them. He doesn't think there would be many people willing to entertain this madness just because they trust GP.

He shakes his head, then points to the bottle again.

"I swear, he grabbed his bottle, and one second later he was gone. He wouldn't have had time to get to the other side of the garage."

Jonathan nods, frowning now, and then he stands up.

"We better find him, then."

And maybe they're both crazy, but it's nice to not be crazy alone.

--

It's Calum in the end who finds him.

When it's clear that Max isn't anywhere around the garage, Jonathan and GP give up and alert everyone else. They still try to keep it on the down low, because losing the current world champion isn't a great look for the team, but it's all hands on deck, spreading around the paddock trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Christian gives them an hour before he alerts the police.

Calum finds the chick when the time is running out and they're regrouping in the garage. He bends down to pick up Max's abandoned water bottle, and finds it there, right under the desk, hiding scared in a dark corner.

"Hello, buddy," he croons, trying to not scare the little chick even more. "How did you get here?"

He's expecting to have to do some serious coaxing to get the baby out of its corner, except that as soon as his hand is close enough, the chick is scrambling for it, high-pitched chirps falling from its little open beak.

Calum emerges from below the desk with a ball of agitated yellow feathers in his palm, and a puzzled expression on his face.

"Where did you find that?" someone asks, as he's trying to calm the little chick down, shushing it and brushing its ruffled feathers with one finger.

"Under the desk, right next to Max's water," he explains. As soon as he says Max's name the chick, who had started to settle, chirps again, louder and more distressed than before, pecking lightly at Calum's hand.

It takes them a while longer to understand what it means, and it's actually Jonathan who figures it out.

"Max," he calls, looking at the chick still safely in Calum's hand, a circle of team members around them.

The chick chirps, flaps its little wings.

Someone swears.

"Can you peck Calum's hand lightly if you are Max?" Jonathan asks, maintaining an impressive straight face.

The chick chirps, then pecks Calum's hand. Not very lightly.

Yeah, that's definitely Max, the little shit.

Turns out that someone had slipped a potion into Max's water. Which is a relief, because they could easily find an antidote, and very worrying, because that could have easily been something more dangerous.

As it is, Christian tells the police Max has been found, everyone agrees to be more careful with what gets handed to Max to drink, eat, or even just wear, and GP is the one who ends up with the task of keeping Max safe until the antidote is found.

"Stay," he tells Max, using his best stern voice, when he tries once again to fling himself off the desk to go wander around. GP is not too afraid he will hurt himself falling from this height, even if he's pretty sure Max can't fly, but he's so small, just a handful of feathers, and GP would probably get fired if he lost him again. Would definitely get fired if someone stepped on him.

"Don't make me put you in the cup," he threatens, pointing at an empty cup on the desk holding a few pencils, "you can still pay attention to the data, I'm pretty sure."

Max chirps at him, something surprisingly sassy for a thing so little.

A couple hours later, when Rupert comes find them with a little vial of antidote in his hand, GP is still looking at data and Max is a soft ball of yellow feathers, asleep in the cup.

[yanoverload]

Feliz véspera de natal! Tem alguma ideia de como os yanderes iriam passar essa data??

- anon que gosta de uva passa

Christmas Time!

Translation of the ask: Since we are in the Christmas eve spirit, what do the yans do for Christmas? In English for you all to enjoy! 

Anon, posso te chamar the 🍇 anon? Por causa da uva passa? KSKSAKSAK

I will use Christmas as a base, but you can exchange it for other holidays accordingly! MORE UNDER CUT!!!

Kouta - I don't think Christmas or any of those are big for him because he is a yokai stuck to time, but I imagine he would like to spend time cozying with you since it would be cold. You are brushing his tail while he tickles you gently with his nails brushing over your skin. Def slowly blinked at you, heart in his eyes.

Probably hunts for you both in advance and he is an impeccable cook (a God's servant, he had to keep himself in line.) so you might get some winter weight! If you do not eat meat, he would struggle, but he would learn to pickle things so you could enjoy it in the colder months.

Beau - Watched the farm owners make big dinners for the holidays but never got any of it. His sister tried to make it a good day for him though, giving him some food she got from farm hands that felt bad.

In present times though, I presume he doesn't get much momentum to celebrate, since he works in Grandma's bakery, and it's a terribly busy time of the year. I like to imagine that he takes the time to bake something with Grandma together, closes shop and takes her to rest. She sleeps super early I'm sure. Then he would go out with you, bring you some hot cocoa (if you want with his milk or not, you choose) and go see the visuals. He loves Christmas lights.

Dae-Ho - I tried looking for how Koreans celebrate Christmas and if I get it wrong I'm sorry!

His parents usually aren't home at Christmas. He is an only child so he usually spent it alone, or with a nanny. The few times he actually had some fun on Christmas is when one or both of his parents were available, then they would invite work friends for a get together, have some finger foods by the chef instead of a big dinner and later at night he plays cello for the guests. He knows how to play piano and cello!

Got many gifts as a kid, but nowadays his parents don't bother giving him red envelopes with money or anything because he has a black card so.... I'm sure his dad got him permission for one of your trials for a gift once and it was the best Christmas for him. If you're together you do that but he plays instruments for you only, and swarms you with gifts.

Ramune - Never celebrated it, but once you explained it he got ecstatic. He loves parties and shiny things, and likes to get you gifts. (At the expense of his victims) And guess what, people get a lot of shit this time of year! 

Def wants to have lots of sex before, while and after you open his gifts. Doesn't eat so he just vibes with you watching Christmas movies. Is the type that would wear ugly sweaters. Also if you get him something prepare to be sucked dry.

This is a New Years thing but I wanted to add! In Spanish tradition you have to eat twelve grapes at each chime of the clock for good luck. He would 100% do that. (My abuela did it and I miss it)

Mono - Also didn't have Christmas in hell, but knows about good feasts! His family loves to eat, so he would love to have a nice dinner, that is after you explain to him humans don't eat wood. He would try to make you a pie or something but almost burn the kitchen. Crying sorrys as you clean it up. 

Good for the winter months tho, cuz he is very cozy! So you could just cuddle at home, or even go out! You won't ever feel cold around him. Prolly hates fireworks, but will watch a show if you like them.

Éliphas - in his lore, unicorns are a pagan God's favorite living beings, so I imagine he does celebrate the holidays, but in pagan ways! Also a good cook, considering you are never eating meat. (His food isn't vegan because I imagine there are animals like chicken and all in the domain) Doesn't snow there, so you both stay stargazing while he thanks the Gods for their blessings and dances with you. Will begrudgingly make a magic show for your entertainment.

His gifts tend to be homemade, and meaningful. You like to paint? He makes a whole set of brushes and paints for you. Clothes? He can sow, so he will make your clothes prettier than one of royalty. Likes animals? So does he! Gets you a place to care for your lil' critters.

It's also the time to prepare for the new year, so he makes spells to leave things behind to welcome anew. Whether that be feelings or physical

Also def has sex with you as an offering for the Gods (he's doing a spell of letting go! Letting go of his virginity LOL)

[femboy-c-cups]

you'd think considering we've been living squarely in the hypercapitalist silicon valley technofuture for some time now, that with all the scraping and selling of your data, the "algorithm" would actually be y'know, good?

Like cmon, i know its about engagement not about making a good customer experience but you'd kinda expect that like if twitter or tumblr is feeding everything ive ever done into the machine that spits out the "for you" page then maybe it would be able to do better than just showing you every post that has the same tag as the last post you liked.

Or amazon being like "we saw you recently purchased a flat screen tv, have you considered buying more flat screen tvs?" Shouldn't you be able to predict what i need precisely when i need it by now? Instagram knows i like ttrpgs so for the past year has been continuously advertising Mothership to me, a product i have owned for many years already. How is this working out well for anyone?

[thesunsethour]

House MD and the use of the word ‘miserable’ (S2)

[S1 stats here]

‘Miserable’ total mentions: 28

‘Miserable’ mentions by House: 9

‘Miserable’ mentions by Wilson: 8

‘Miserable’ mentions by Foreman: 4

‘Miserable’ mentions by patients/families: 3

‘Miserable’ mentions by Cuddy: 2

‘Miserable’ mentions by Chase: 1

‘Miserable’ mentions by Cameron: 1

Times someone accuses House of being miserable: 13 - (6 from Wilson / 3 from patients / 2 from House’s subconscious / 1 from Cuddy / 1 from Foreman)

Full quotes:

2.01

Chase to House: “I assume you have a reason beyond wanting to make me completely miserable?”

2.05

Wilson to Cuddy about House's father : “You know what I figure is worse than watching your son become crippled? Watching him be miserable.”

2.06

House to Wilson about Stacy: “She’s miserable with Mark because he’s not me. So, she’s gotta make me not me, so she makes my professional life miserable…”

2.07

House to Stacy: “Sorry you were miserable.”

Cameron to patient: “This is about your lonely, miserable life.”

Patient to Cameron: “I’m not miserable. And as long as there’s a gay bar around, I’m never lonely.”

2.09

Foreman to Cuddy: “You chose me to make House miserable, didn’t you?”

Cuddy to Foreman: “Apparently, he’s making you miserable. That’s impressive.”

Foreman to Cuddy: “I only did that stuff to prove that he couldn’t make me miserable.”

2.11

Foreman to House: “Cuddy just put me here to make you miserable. Another two days, you can go back to making yourself miserable.”

Wilson to House about Stacy: “This was no great sacrifice! You sent her away because you’ve got to be miserable.”

Wilson to House: “Being miserable doesn’t make you better than anyone else, House. It just makes you miserable.”

2.12

Cuddy to House: “To annoy me, or maybe because you’re miserable, or because you want to self-destruct. Pick one.”

2.13

Wilson to House: “It’s not cancer. You seem to be back to your old, miserable self.”

2.15

House to ducklings: “A hundred bucks says they’re as miserable as the next couple.”

2.16

Wilson to House: “Yeah, that’s why you’re making me miserable.”

Wilson to House: “You’re miserable, and you’re lonely, and you’re going to trap me here to keep me every bit as miserable and lonely too.”

House to Wilson: “I did not make you miserable.”

Patient’s father to House: “You sick, miserable –”

2.22

House to Foreman: “I need you kicking ass here to be all that lets you rise above being miserable.”

2.23

House’s old friend to House: “If you’re right, I’ll be miserable, and if I’m right, I’ll hate myself because I didn’t trust her!”

House to ducklings: “Here’s how to become a great artist. First, get miserable.”

2.24

House's hallucination to House: “And even if I’m wrong, you’re still miserable.”

House's hallucination to House: “You’re miserable for nothing. I don’t know why you’d want to live.”

[kuromi-hoemie]

feels so good being the person in charge of deciding whether our organization will use AI or not. I'm going to write an argument so strong... no we will not waste an ounce of our time and energy on what's essentially a bubble the IT industry Really wants to try forcing on people and is betting on/wanting so badly for it to take off. The real gut punch is at some point I'm going to compare it to NFTs lol

[coriander-candlesticks]

Note to self: word prayers better when doing divinatory sessions

I think I've mentioned this before, but I do yes/no stone pulls on Sundays to ask for guidance about maintaining my health re: my commute because it's 2-2.5 hours each way via public transit if everything runs on time. It's rough on me in multiple ways and can lead to even more migraines than usual or being too fatigued to work at all, and it can be difficult to tell whether I'll have the spoons to go in person.

This past Sunday I was exhausted & stressed because of, you know, the horrors, and said my initial prayer a little differently than I usually do. I still invoked Apollo and Hermes as always, as both of them cover divination by lots, Apollo's domain covers health & disease, and he's the one I turn to for divination by default.

Now, the vast majority of the guidance and lessons Apollo has given have had to do with recognizing my physical & mental limits, especially around this issue. The answers I was getting this time around were...odd but not quite in the way they have been with just dud pulls, so I started asking clarifying questions to figure out what was going on. After a few - establishing that there was a reason for the answers but it wasn't a test or punishment or Apollo messing with me (which would have been. odd) - I realized that while I'd invoked Hermes as a god of divination by lots alongside Apollo, I had not explicitly asked him to act as a messenger and aid in communication this time around, nor had I asked Apollo to guide the divination session with the wording I usually use.

I think you can see where I'm going with this.

I re-said the prayer (correctly this time) and confirmed that it was, in fact, Hermes at first while re-doing the initial set of questions (which were much more consistent in the usual way), as well as confirming that the issue was the prayer wording. Lesson learned lol

[danielnelsen]

update: peach is doing very well!! she's eating and sleeping normally (sleeping more than normal, really, but that's to be expected)!! after 3 days of not sleeping and a few changes in painkillers, she finally just napped for an hr then, after another day, slept through the whole night (and most of the next day). she's started following all her usual routines again and is very keen to eat! still on some painkillers, but they're not having any horrific side effects anymore

now that im not staying up to keep an eye on her all night (while also dealing with upgrading my computer and my phone and also my sister preparing to go overseas and the dogs barking and howling constantly due to all of the above), i finally got some decent sleep too and slept for about 14 hrs. so today ive got that weird shakiness that i get from sleeping too much, but hey it's better than the whole of the last week

[running-in-the-dark]

it's been a month since we moved into the new apartment -

I'm so stressed. everything is stressful. we're still not done building the kitchen but it's getting there (slowly). mostly we just need to wait until we get a couple parts that weren't in stock when we ordered the rest. I'm hoping it'll be done by next weekend.

some of it is very frustrating with my brain specifically. I'm so bothered by all the tiny little things that no one else would even notice - like, some of the handles on the drawers are very slightly crooked (as in, less than a millimeter higher on one side) - but for me it's so obvious that it's impossible to ignore. my husband didn't even know what I meant when I pointed it out to him. there's also been a few slightly bigger issues, but we've solved them now (I think).

my eye has been twitching for like three to four weeks. not all the time obviously, but every few minutes. it's very, very annoying.

we still have no new info about when we'll have internet finally. it could take a while still.

on Monday a guy has to replace something in the electric roller shutters in one room - but we don't know which one yet. so either I'll have to let him into my room (awful, uncomfortable, will have to tidy up tomorrow so he could even get to the window), or I'll have to get both our cats into their carrier if it's the one in my husband's room (awful, difficult, one of them doesn't like that so he'll be scared and I'll feel bad).

also on Monday the electrician will install our stove (if he has time). then we're getting two ikea deliveries. and I've got an appointment with my (new) GP because I need a prescription, and I'm very (verrry) nervous about it.

I miss watching TV. I miss tumblr and YouTube and messaging my friends whenever I want and sending them photos all the time. I miss order and structure and (some level of) routine. I miss using real cutlery (we still haven't found ours lol).

when I was finally starting to get used to the noises in this place, the family above us moved in with their baby that cries all the time very very loudly and most of the time right above my room. so now everything is different again and I'm not adjusting well and once again I can't sleep.

but, I've listened to 14 audiobooks since we moved! that's been nice. it was the same way when we moved the last time (just over a year ago..). my favourite by far was The Thursday Murder Club. I've got the other ones in the series but I'm trying not to listen to them too quickly, so I'm gonna listen to three other books first (one is done already, so I should get there on Monday or Tuesday hopefully).

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

No one:

Me: Okay, but what if their relationship has nothing to do with Sonic and Tails? What if Metal literatally just saw Eggman working on Tails Doll and assumed without proof that they were created for him? What if Metal quite literally attached to Tails Doll through this assumption and then their partnership progressed naturally? What if the inorganic creations fell in love as an unorthodox power couple and just so happened to resemble a famous partnership?

[bookworm-2692]

And here we are everyone! The final update to the Life Tracker with all the chaos at the end! Apologies for the delay here - most of my timing notes were done by Sunday, and then the graphs were complete by the middle of Tuesday, and now it’s Thursday morning. I have no good excuse this time, but here it is!

Previous posts: Session 7, Session 6, Session 5, Session 4. As usual, below the cut is close ups and data and commentary!

There were 37 deaths I counted this session up to Pearl’s permadeath, and then Impulse died twice more before some off-camera life exchanges occurred (Scott showed the first two, so they’re here with their timings, but then after that no one showed when Impulse gained an hour (so got two more kills), Martyn lost an hour (so died once), and Scott gained half an hour (so got a kill), and as you see something doesn’t add up and given that immediately after they get down to their final life I have elected to ignore it and just adjust the time anyway). Then there are the three consensual lava deaths, and then the three final deaths... so there were 45 on camera deaths this session, plus some extra off camera time shuffling.

I actually missed two deaths from Session 7 as well - I had them in my notes so my number of deaths matched what should be, but I somehow forgot to put them in the excel data, so I put them back this week. They were when Impulse fell and Cleo got the kill credit, as when as the Grian double kill on Bdubs and Cleo. I have also removed the 30 minutes I awarded Bdubs for his wolf killing Scar so that he could permadie at the correct time - though I left the 30 minutes Bdubs got for killing Joel in self-defence as a Yellow, as Cleo’s timer shows that she still had this, so I wanted consistency there.

Close up of Sessions 6-8 together

Close up of Sessions 7-8 together

Here you can see all the permadeaths together! It was far harder to label these lines than when players were alive and in a nice orderly line, so I hope this is fairly clear. And a close up of Session 8 alone:

Crazy how Pearl was briefly the one with most time, and Impulse’s habit of keeping his mouth shut about his time served him well - two hours into the session he had 4.5 hours, while Scott and Martyn were both down to 2 hours (and Grian on 1 and Pearl and Etho on half an hour). Scott wasn’t kidding when he said he stole all of Impulse’s time there.

I also decided to acknowledge Martyn’s /kill at the end there, and made him lose the rest of his time there.

Another interesting thing is the fact that Etho and Pearl’s mutual killing of each other, where they both net lost half an hour, didn’t actually effect their final placements. They were on under half an hour when they died, but if they hadn’t killed each other, they still would have been under an hour, and still would have permadied. Grian was definitely on the most time at his permadeath, and BigB got so damn close to it before being saved. If it had taken Mean Gills + TIES even a minute longer to find them and kill them, BigB would have died then (and Pearl may not have lost as much time as quickly as she did).

I do want to acknowledge that Pearl did gain an hour from permakilling Cleo. Because it was PvP, the half hour got automatically added. However, because Cleo permadied, her death message took up the entire screen and completely hid the message telling Pearl she gained 30 minutes, so Pearl then gave herself another 30 minutes. Which means she may have otherwise died when Etho pushed her, but I’m willing to let it slide - Martyn also gained 30 minutes for an unknown reason back between Session 3 and Session 4 that was never acknowledged or removed. He also never fell below two hours until they agreed to equalise, so it probably didn’t effect anything, but I do want both to be acknowledged here.

I also created the graph for the average time per team again, in two forms.

First: where dead people are included in the average

And the Session 6-8 close up of this

And the Session 7-8 close up

And below is the Session 7-8 close up of the version where dead people are removed from the average

I don’t have much to say here other than I think it’s interesting comparing the two. The first one suppresses how much time Impulse has on account of Skizz and Tango both being dead, but the second one shows it loud and clear.

Now is time for the data screenshots! This session was longer than every session except for the first - they had been averaging around two hours, but this time was an hour and a half. Presumably, this is because at the 2 hour mark, there were still 6 people alive, and three of them had an hour or less to live, and 15 minutes later there were only three but at that point you may as well let it play out.

The first 50 minutes of Session 8:

The next hour and 10 minutes of Session 8:

The final 30 minutes of Session 8:

As usual the red and green boxes indicate deaths and kills. The blue boxes is what I’m using for the “time equalisation” the three of them did off camera. I really tried to work out who would have killed who there but something didn’t work and then I decided it didn’t matter lmao. I did do their three lava deaths separately though because I’m still being anal there.

After doing all that, I finally worked out a better way of zooming in on the graphs, by remembering I can actually force the axes to be smaller, which means more detail can actually be seen. So here those are below.

Life Tracker Session 1-4:

I also finally worked out how to rotate the text boxes because it wasn’t working earlier, and I think it looks so much better there!

Life Tracker Session 5-8:

Here unfortunately the text on the left had to be huge for the spacing to work, but then on the right the text had to be much smaller so I could try to space all the names out at the point of death.

Life Tracker Session 6-8:

I actually made the 6-8 one before the 1-4 or 5-8 ones, so before I worked out the angled text, but I think this still works with just the names at the point of death (the start of the name is at the point of death, unless there’s commas in between and then they’re all at the same point)

Life Tracker Session 7-8:

Lots of little details here! We’re close enough that Tango’s death can separate from Scar and Cleo. You can see vertical lines close together rather than overlapping as well which is nice!

Life Tracker Session 8:

This one I did forget to change the title, but you can tell it’s Session 8 only. Tango, Scar, and Cleo died within two minutes of each other, it’s so tight. And Impulse and Scott were within six seconds of each other, so that was always gonna be impossible to separate.

Team Average Time Session 1-4:

Team Average Time Session 5-8:

Team Average Time Session 6-8:

Team Average Time Session 7-8:

Team Average Time Session 8:

I also have a copy of the above four with the dead people excluded, which I can share if people are curious, but this post is maybe getting a bit long right now, and I think the version where dead people are included is the better one to show - more accurate to team strength.

I also made some other graphs while procrastinating this post (because I was procrastinating making a decision about some of Bdubs’s deaths/kills to make the time work), but I will include those in their own post as this one is absolutely far too long right now.

I definitely had fun making these graphs each week, so I hope you guys enjoyed too!!

[kateis-cakeis]

people are really so weird and so fatphobic huh

(and oops most of my commentary is in the tags XD)

[muninnhuginn]

having to make myself just pull back a second and go for "simplest explanation that fits all the facts and isn't accidentally inferring beyond the facts we do have".

[vulpinesaint]

lore star trek character of all time btw. he's just like me for real

[kakusu-shipping]

PLEASE PLAY THE RABBIDS GAME ITS SO GOOOD

I WANT TO I WANT TO I WANT TO SO BADLY

I am however a broke ass bitch all the time and cannot afford two 60 dollar games even at the best of times atm

It looks really cool, the models are surprisingly pretty and the animation looks really good, I'm not sure I'd be good at the gameplay but they look nice and I'd LOVE to try them some time

I don't mind story spoilers (does it have a deep story? dunno) so feel free to come talk at me about it some time!!