#at first and then the way they’re indispensable in that they’re they only other one that Understands why they’re like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-time-to-write · 9 months

Note

Hi, first off I want to say that I love your writing. It always makes me smile 🙃🙃.

As for my request, I was wondering if you could please write about Jamie soft launching your relationship on Insta and starting to bring it up in the press. You haven’t met the boys and they are trying to figure out who it is based on his comments and Insta posts. (I may have a Pinterest board with soft launch ideas so…use the screen shots on my page as u wish).

If you don’t have time to write this then no worries. Have a nice day!!!!!!!!!

🫲😇🫱

I listened to “Not All Those Who Wander,” by Miss Lana the whole time I wrote this. 10/10 recommend

it’s just wanderlust

“You’re gonna want to hold off on touching me,” you say as you haul your bags into the house. “Kid fuckin’ spit all over me today and I didn’t even have time to change.”

Jamie wrinkles his nose and takes a step back. “Ew. Fucking gross, that. Is that why you were late coming home?”

You nod, shucking your shoes by the stairs. “Uh huh. Had to talk to the parents post-session. Do a little debrief thing. Thing is, they swore their little angel would never do something like that and next time I should just give him what he wants. Only problem,” you continue as you wash your hands in the kitchen sink, “is that my entire job is not giving him what he wants when he’s displaying inappropriate behaviors. I love that kid, I really do, but his parents are complete twats.”

Jamie nods agreeably. “Was it like projectile or spray?”

You grimace. “Both. Kid’s got mean aim, but decided to switch it up to cover more surface area.”

You look over at the table, which is set neatly. “I know dinner’s ready and I’m already late, but I really need a shower. I can feel like three inches of grime on my skin.”

“Don’t worry about it babe,” Jamie says. “Takeaway reheats easy.” He hesitates for a moment. “Did you want to shower alone, or..?”

You laugh. Cheeky fucker.

“Give me three minutes to scrub really well, and then you’re welcome in. You sure you’re good eating late?”

Jamie grins. “Babe, I-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off, finger pointed at him. “Don’t say it. I know where you’re going, and you don’t need to finish that sentence.”

Jamie opens his mouth again but you’re interrupting before he can get his next sentence out. “And if you’re about to make a pun with the word ‘finish,’ I can guarantee it’s nothing you haven’t said before.”

Jamie looks dejected, but his ego obviously isn’t bruised too much because he’s still is on your heels the whole way up the stairs.

—

You’re showered and back downstairs, the both of you eating dinner in pajamas like proper adults, if proper adults decided that they were allowed to sit on the counter in Jamie’s kitchen. You’re not saying much, just swapping stories about each other’s day. It’s never a dull moment between his time at Nelson Road and your time at the behavioral clinic.

“Who do you think sees the grossest shit?” you had asked one time.

“Oh fuck love, it’s gotta be you,” came Jamie’s response.

“You sure? Because you have like, gross men and stuff. Half of them don’t even know how to do their own laundry.”

Jamie had laughed. “I’m fucking sure. Yeah they smell nasty and shit but like, they’re traumatized by some of the shit you have to deal with.”

He’s got a point.

Neither of you have a whole bunch to say though, and anyway it’s nice to be in a house that’s quiet.

Jamie’s the one to break the silence. “What if we started telling people about us?”

You give him a look so he hurries on. “I know you said you weren’t ready, especially with all the press and everything, but what if we just like soft-launched it? Y’know, take a couple photos without seeing your face.”

You chew your dinner thoughtfully. Is this a good time to start carefully introducing your relationship to the world? You’re indispensable to your company, although they may decide to place a higher value on their anonymity than what you bring to the table. It’s not easy providing behavioral therapy to clients who prefer their children to remain unknown. But at the same time, you can’t keep quiet forever. It’s not fair to Jamie. It’s like you’re saying this is only temporary. I’m keeping it a secret because it won’t last so it’s not worth sharing. It’s not true. Jamie is worth sharing, and you have the tiniest spark of hope that this thing you’ve kept going for the past six months is going to last.

Well, maybe not so much a spark of hope as a sneaking suspicion. The kind you feel as a kid when your parents swear they didn’t get you want you wanted for Christmas, but you have the vaguest sense that they’re lying. You don’t want to hope, because what if you’re wrong, but then again, there’s a part of you that can just feel it.

You’ve been silent for far too long because Jamie says, “Babe? If you don’t want to, it’s ok,” except you can see in his face it isn’t entirely ok.

“I was just thinking,” you reply. “I think- I think I’m good with it. You know, letting people know you’re off the market. Plus it’ll be fun to take more pictures together, My mum keeps bugging me for more.”

Jamie grins. “Mint. The lads are gonna be so fucking psyched.”

—

Ah yes. The lads. Or as they’re better known, the AFC Richmond team. It hasn’t been easy sneaking around them, especially because Ted seemed to Know. Jamie came home one day all spooked because he swore Ted knew he was dating someone.

“Stared straight into me soul, he did,” he said. “Fuckin’ told me he’s surprised I haven’t found a girl yet.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious, Jaim,” you reply, to which Jamie shakes his head vehemently.

“You weren’t there, that’s what he said, but he meant somethin’ else. He fucking knows.”

You’d laughed and told him it was fine, even if Ted did know, you didn’t mind.

After that encounter, there had been vague rumblings that maybe Jamie did have a girl somewhere, or possibly several girls at one time, which prompted a very serious conversation with Isaac and Sam.

“Jamie, you have said that you have changed. You are acting like a better teammate. And yet, dating more than one girl at a time is just wrong,” Sam told him.

“That shit’s sleazy, bruv,” Isaac said. “You can’t be playing around like that.”

So they had gotten Jamie to admit that no, there weren’t multiple girls, just one girl who he had met at a café of all places because he was cheating on his meal plan and she was trying to finish some assessments for work.

You wanted privacy and of course you knew exactly who he was the moment he walked up to your table and said, “hey,” so yeah, it was never going to be easy.

But the way you had wavered ever so slightly when he asked you to dinner was enough to make him realize that this was going to be something different. Something real. Because if the allure of dating national football star Jamie Tartt wasn’t enough for an automatic yes, you must be looking for something deeper.

Jamie wasn’t sure he was looking for that, but hell he’d give it a go if it meant he got to kiss those soft lips even one time.

So fuck him, he’d fallen for a pretty face in a café on a fucking Sunday and now he has to go home and tell you that people know you exist. That a little bit of your privacy bubble has burst.

You didn’t really care though. You’d been pondering the ethics of a secret relationship for a good long while, so maybe it was good that his teammates knew you existed.

That was a month before Jamie broached the subject of the soft-launch, so you think maybe you can ease into this. It’ll be fine.

—

The first picture is relatively easy. Just a regular mirror pic, cropped of course, with Jamie’s arms wrapped around you from behind. It’s easy to tell it’s him because his tattoo sleeve is in full view. The caption reads, “soft launch,” with a heart emoji.

The like count is through the roof.

You like it too, because what notice will your account garner in a sea of Jamie Tartt fans?

The Greyhounds lose their minds a little bit, commenting fire emojis and heart eyes and trying to figure out who could possibly be there with Jamie. He comes home after training that day to tell you that there’s a rather convincing conspiracy that he’s dating this famous model they’re all obsessed with.

You’re flattered they think you look like her. Even if they can only see your arms and torso.

“This is gonna be fun, babe,” you say, standing on tiptoes for a kiss. Jamie grins. Anything to torture his team.

—

The second picture is posted two days later, with the caption, “date night.”

You’re sitting at his dining room table, candles and wine glasses strewn about, and Jamie’s kissing you at an angle where you can really only see your hair.

For fun, you comment, “omg, I wish that were me.” Richard Montlaur responds to it, “omg same,” so you show Jamie. He rolls his eyes.

“Lad thinks he’s funny, don’t he?” he asks.

You grin. “You’d never leave me for Richard, would you?”

Jamie shrugs. “Dunno babe, he is kind of fit.”

You smack his arm playfully and say, “Fuck off, I’m better looking.”

—

You’re almost caught before the big reveal. You’re on a coffee date in a small town, miles from Richmond or Manchester or anywhere Jamie could be easily recognized. It’s a sleepy town, mostly old people, which is why you both decided it’d be safe.

You’re sitting at a table with your coffee while Jamie’s up to grab his, when you see someone go up to him and tap his shoulder.

“Jamie? What are you doing here?” Sam asks.

Jamie jumps a little and places to where you’re sitting before he can stop himself.

“Oh, um, just getting coffee. You know.”

Sam gives him a quizzical look. “Do you know someone here? This isn’t close to home at all. Are you meeting someone?”

Sam glances around the room and Jamie’s grateful that his gaze does not linger extra long on you.

Jamie decides the best way to answer is to deflect. “Oi, what’re you doing here? It’s not like this place is fucking famous or some shit.”

Sam shrugs. “I like to try a different coffee shop every weekend. Sometimes I bring Dani, but after last time, I think I’ll have to find someone else.”

Jamie risks a glance at you. You’re hiding behind your latte, suppressing a grin. He’s positive you can hear every word they’re saying.

Sam’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Would you like to sit with me? It looks like there’s only one table left. Unless your mystery girlfriend is here.”

He laughs and Jamie joins in, just a little too loudly, but he can’t think of an excuse to join you at the table so he follows Sam and tries to send you a subtle I’m sorry with his eyes.

You pull out your phone and send him two laughing emojis, then reach into your bag for your book. Might as well get some reading done.

You let Jamie sit for a good half hour before you decide to do something. You put your things back into your bag and walk over to where they’re sitting.

“Hi, um, I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Obisanya? I’m a huge Richmond fan.”

Sam grins at being recognized, while Jamie lets out a small, “Oi!”

“Oh yes, wonderful to meet a fan! I’m just here with my friend.”

You smile and say, “I just wanted to let you know that you played so well last game. I think you’re the best player on the whole team.”

Jamie snorts and Sam says, “Would you like to take a picture? My friend here would be happy to take it for you.”

Score. “That would be awesome!” you reply. “Then I’ll get out of your way. Don’t want to interrupt your coffee.”

—

“Can’t believe you just did that,” Jamie says, shaking his head mournfully another half hour later. “Fucking acting like you didn’t know who I was. Any self-respecting Richmond fan knows who I am.”

You knock into his shoulder lightly as you walk to the car. “Lucky for your ego, I was just acting. And anyway, I’m hilarious. That’s like, my number one quality.”

“Number two,” Jamie interjects, “It’s your number two quality.”

You ask, “Number two? What’s number one??”

Jamie zips his lips. “I ain’t tellin’, babe. Not good for your ego.”

You giggle as he grabs your waist so he can press a kiss to your neck.

—

Posts three and four go off without a hitch. There’s one of his hand on your knee and a timer picture of you twirling under a streetlamp. You both decide that as far as social media goes, this is as much as they’re going to get. But as far as AFC Richmond goes…

“Babe, you left your phone in the car,” you say as you stroll into the locker room casually as ever.

Jamie takes it from your hand and kisses you before he says, “Thanks babe.”

The locker room is silent, frozen. Colin’s body spray slips from his hand and clatters to the floor, and Beard’s just standing and pointing with his mouth open.

Roy breaks the silence as he growls, “What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Sam follows. “You’re the girl from the coffee shop.”

You grin and say, “Guilty.”

Jamie wraps his arm around your waist. “Lads, this is my girl. Babe, these are the lads.”

There’s silence for a moment longer before the room explodes into a flurry of questions. Neither you nor Jamie can get a word in until Beard yells, “QUIET! Don’t be fuckin’ weird!”

They all mumble, “Sorry coach,” while Jamie whispers, “You can go if you want. I know you’ve got work and shit. I’ll handle them.”

You squeeze his arm gratefully and slip out the door. You know he’ll take care of things.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you

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iftheshoef1tz · 7 months

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Ahoy! For Halloween, I thought I’d give you all a teaser for my latest project. 😈

Eris Vanserra is a young doctor in West Germany in 1968. After learning his mother has been keeping the old ways behind the back of his deeply religious, deeply abusive father, Eris decides the easiest, most direct way to vengeance is by summoning a demon. This scene takes place in Grunewald, a forest in West Berlin, where Eris summons said demon. This will be, of course, Azris, so y’all know who the demon is.

Special thanks to @queercontrarian who helped me develop this idea by suggesting it take place during the ‘68 riots in West Germany in the first place and who is also indispensable as a translator. This is unedited and unbetaed and will likely change its form before i actually post this thing. Enjoy!!

A break in the trees reveals the lit-up summit of Teufelsberg. He can’t quite see the three dome radio towers, but he knows they’re there. He’d seen them up close only once, when he’d gone skiing three years ago. It had made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, to be so close to the machinations of the American secret intelligence apparatus.

Now, though, there isn’t any snow, only the wet squelching of fallen, rotting leaves beneath his bike tires.

It had been easy enough to find his mother’s book, in the end – it had been in the kitchen next to the cookbooks. A smart hiding place, one Beron would never think to look for something important.

Decoding it had taken somewhat longer. It was handwritten in shaky cursive, sometimes in what seemed to be Middle German, and Eris had risked eye strain trying to tell the writer’s vowels apart. But there, hidden among recipes for poultices and medicines for pain or fertility, is a three line recipe, as it were.

The cold October air whips Eris’s hair into his face as he mouths the words to himself: ich beschwöre euch, Dämon. Gebt mir eine wahre und getreue Antwort, sodass ich an mein ersehntes Ziel gelange. Ich beschwöre euch.

It’s not the original Middle German, of course; Eris is on the other side of the Luther’s ninety-nine theses and he trusts his pronunciation of modern German much more than the other. It had occurred to him that the translation might affect which demon answered his call, but in the end, he had decided it didn’t matter. This was all a fool’s errand, regardless.

He laughs once at himself. It clouds around his mouth before being blown away by the wind. Rain is in the air, and he needs to get this idiocy out of his system before then.

It’s the kind of rebellion he has never had the time or energy for, and he feels as though he’s tilting at windmills. If he were a braver man, he’d simply murder his father himself.

Eventually, he feels he’s reached deep enough in the forest, and he slips off his bicycle. He hesitates before simply resting it against a nearby tree. Yes, it’s technically visible from the path, but it’s nearly eleven at night in the middle of a bloody forest. No one is around to steal it.

Leaves and branches crunch beneath his feet like rusty, crackling laughter, and he feels foolish again. He can turn around now, be back in his apartment by midnight, and not have his landlady be any the wiser.

But something pulls him deeper into the loamy dark, his torch beam hardly piercing the darkness around him.

Eventually, it is only Eris and his stupid quest in the dark of Grunewald, and he draws to a halt. It takes only a moment to kick away leaves and clear a small section of grass, and he slides a glass jar from his backpack.

The recipe had called for chalk or dirt, and he uses dirt he’d collected from the farm to draw a circle in the cleared space. It’s wobbly, and he swipes at his mouth in irritation. The motion leaves dirt on Eris’s face; he can feel it but doesn’t care.

Next is another small jar, with two slender sticks of incense. He’d stolen them from Nesta last week and figures the scent of cedar would be least offensive to a demon. It’s incredible how much effort he’s put into something so stupid. Perhaps, he thinks with a wry twist of his lips as he eases into sitting position, he should start considering that he’s doing this after all.

The circle is barely visible in the torchlight, and the lit end of the stick of incense also seems to disappear into the clutching dark. He is alone here in the dark woods.

Eris shuts his eyes against the sudden lurch of fear and inhales once through his nose. He exhales, then repeats. On the third breath, he murmurs, “I invoke thee, demon.”

The silence thickens around him.

“Give me a true and faithful answer,” he continues, his gloved hands clenching in his lap. “So that I may accomplish my desired end.”

The wind breaks the silence suddenly, moaning through the trees. The sound of it through the leaves sounds like a snake’s hiss, sharp and violent. Eris is alone and cold here, and no one will notice he is missing if something goes wrong.

“I invoke thee,” Eris forces himself to finish, barely above a whisper.

A faint shudder rolls through the earth, or maybe it’s just Eris himself, and he squeezes his eyes tighter shut. Would it be better or worse to open his eyes and find that his words have brought him nothing but embarrassment?

After a moment, the wind dies down, and Eris cracks his eyes open.

He is alone. The incense is no longer burning, its embers quenched by the hissing wind.

“‘I invoke thee,’” he snarls to himself and rushing to his feet. He kicks through the wobbly line of the dirt invoking circle, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Bullshit.”

[…]

He turns to look behind him, his fear from earlier returning. It’s thick along the back of his tongue as he watches two perfectly round lights bob up the road towards him. He pauses, one foot sliding in the mud just off the road, as the tremulous lights steady and the rumble of a car engine reaches him.

Thank God, he thinks acidly. What a day it would be if demons weren’t real but aliens were.

The rumble grows closer, and Eris sticks out a thumb, slick and shining in the car’s headlights. It slows as it reaches Eris before finally stopping in front of him. The driver is revealed bit by bit as he rolls the window down – dark hair flopped carelessly across his forehead, piercing hazel eyes underlined by heavy bags.

“You lost?” the man says. His German is accented in a way Eris can’t quite place.

“My bike was stolen,” Eris says, not bothering to hide his shiver. “Could I trouble you - ”

“Get in.”

Eris blinks in surprise at the quick acceptance, but the man is leaning back in his seat as if he picks up strangers in the dark woods every day.

He slips into the car, winding the window shut as fast as possible. The storm spits a last few drops into his face, and he collapses back into his seat. The inside of the car is too warm, the heat turned up nearly to the maximum. The engine purrs beneath Eris’s feet when the man takes off, and Eris watches the man’s hand resting on the gear shift.

The skin looks waxy, and Eris recognizes them for the burn scars they are. He has the strange impulse to touch them, to make sure they are real in a way nothing else has felt tonight.

“What were you doing out here so late at night?”

Something in Eris rebels at the patronizing tone, but he quashes any visible reaction beyond pushing his sodden hair from his face. When he looks over, the man’s hazel eyes are so dark as to seem black.

Blandly, he replies, “Biking.”

The man laughs, just one short burst. “Of course.”

“Thank you for the lift,” Eris says. He arranges himself in a way he knows makes him appear smaller, more delicate. It angles him more fully towards the man and shows off the curve of his hip. Some men like that, Eris knows, especially when they don’t like to like men. “I was dreading walking home in the dark by myself.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” He smooths a hand down the front of his sweater.

The man waves a dismissive hand at Eris, encompassing his whole body. It somehow manages to make Eris feel brutally naked, and he curls into himself with no coquetry in the motion. “Don’t do that thing you did just then. Make yourself so – ”

“I - ” The word falls pathetically from Eris’s mouth as more half-formed excuses pile up on his tongue. Maybe the man is a policeman or part of the secret service, and Eris has just broadcast his willingness to spread his legs for another man. God, maybe he’s an American.

Eris waits, breath trapped in his throat. But the man never finishes his sentence, and his hand falls to the gear shift again. The engine rumbles beneath them, knocking Eris’s thoughts into one another.

Beron will kill him if he’s arrested for this. He might kill his mother, too, for breeding such a deviant. It doesn’t even occur to him to be afraid that this man might kill him for the offer, which, despite it’s immediacy, lacks any real teeth.

“I think I can walk from here.” Eris is proud his voice doesn’t tremble; his hands are steady, too.

In response, the man purses his lips. He doesn’t pull over, though, and Eris thinks he might vomit. At least if his body turns up at some point in the future, no one will know he was with a man before this. The thought makes a hysterical laugh well up in his throat, competing with his excuses trapped there.

He wishes, suddenly, pathetically, for Nesta.

“Do you know anyplace quiet we could go to?”

The man’s voice is almost covered by the engine, and Eris has to swallow once, twice, before he says, putting a little of Beron’s sternness in his voice, “I’m not taking you home with me.”

At this, the man turns his head towards Eris. They pass under the first street lamp of the main road, and Eris narrowly bites back a gasp.

Eyes black as coal with no white showing, the demon says, “I think you and I have some things to talk about.”

#azris #eris vanserra #acotar #azriel #fanfiction #whntdws is…such a bad abbreviation #i’ll fix it in post ig #HAPPY HALLOWEEN (MONSTER)FUCKERS

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genshin-scenarios · 2 years

Text

Harbinger AU

About: Seeing the harbinger trailer made me think of things… so here’s some familiar faces as Fatui! Their roles are vaguely inspired from the current lineup of Harbingers we have in canon.

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Yae, Albedo

CW: Since this is basically a reverse/villain AU type of thing, there may be mentions of manipulative, unethical or violent behavior. (Not particularly towards the reader, just in general.)

Commission info is on my pinned post!

One of the most charming and amicable members of the Fatui, Kaeya handles secret missions from the Tsaritsa that require a careful touch.

Those that have worked with him are filled with admiration and fear, for his methods aren’t ones that flaunt his strength but instead clicks into place quietly behind the scenes.

It is said that every unassuming word that falls off his lips sets a web beneath his target, ensuring that they are trapped before they even realize they’re in a game.

A scarce few know him well enough to predict what he is thinking, so you should consider yourself quite ‘privileged’, in his words, that you are allowed to be by his side.

Kaeya claims that you are only there because he finds you amusing, but the way he grows more venomous when the other harbingers are around you seem to suggest otherwise…

A flower is kept in a vase at the table beside your bed, one that he claims will last forever. It is woven from frost and seems like it might scatter at any moment - however there is no need to fret, as it is preserved in a case of ice.

If he was to gift you something so beautiful and delicate, it’d certainly be well-protected after all.

Ah, this one is a lot less cordial on most days. Diluc can certainly be warm and kind, but that’s reserved for those who have earned his respect - which is unfortunately not a lengthy amount of people.

Diluc runs his own share of businesses and intelligence networks across Teyvat. He can be found doing groundwork quite often as he likes ensuring that things are going according to plan.

Subordinates under him are really loyal, and new ones that try to stir up trouble are dealt with by their peers before Diluc even has to bother. They like to watch and admire his skill on the rare occasion he spars or trains in public, knowing that their leader is one that can put his money where his mouth is.

You were a talent in Snezhnaya who was recommended to Diluc when he was in need of an assistant. He often traveled for work, and with his operations growing in number he needed someone to help manage some of his work while staying close to carry out his orders.

At first Diluc was a pretty stoic employer, but over time he grew to consider you as an indispensable employee. You caught out suspicious behavior and smoothly sorted out mishaps, even befriending some of his close subordinates.

Oh, the wine and custom pen he gave you for your birthday? It was just an appreciative gesture, don’t worry about it~

Honeyed words often fall off her silver tongue, but one look at her cold gaze tells people all they need to know. In Yae’s eyes, most - if not all - were dispensable in their game against the Divine.

Her work mostly consists of strategising the Fatui’s operations, ones that come directly from the Winter Palace.

She can be most commonly found shopping or visiting the sights around Snezhnaya. While at a glance indulgence, she is actually mapping out and committing everything to memory.

She finds being underestimated as a gluttonous harbinger amusing though, and allows this image of herself to continue as it makes people lower their guard.

It’s hard to tell what Yae is thinking most of the time, even more so than Kaeya because of how unpredictable she can be.

At this point her subordinates simply follow her orders without thinking too much, since pondering on it will only give them a headache with no answers confirmed at the end.

When Yae starts to take an interest in you, (a civilian working as a chef, seamstress, or other non-fatui related field) you are understandably flattered but wary of what her intentions are.

She likes to spoil you, enjoying your humble protests and shy words of thanks.

As for the reason she’s grown attached to you, well… You remind her of simpler times. Back when she’d have ramen and mochi with her friends on a rainy day, and her biggest worry was how to get home without an umbrella.

A mysterious harbinger, Albedo owns a lab where a number of highly-skilled alchemists are hired to help conduct his research.

Everything is classified, and the fact that nothing ever gets leaked out is a testament to everyone’s respect - or perhaps fear - of what the consequences might be.

There have been rumors about what Albedo works on independently, of course - like creating homunculi to be used as perfect secret agents or soldiers.

In truth, Albedo was simply an isolated genius that didn’t mind being alone too much, since most people did not pique his interest long enough for him to maintain regular contact.

He’s also known for being a talented painter, but was impossible to commission with mora alone. His price was rare materials and solutions that required connections on top of riches to obtain.

People actually thought that the reason he spent so much time with you was because you were a homunculus that he created, since he spoke so fondly of you and would share secretive glances.

In reality however you were just someone with a lot of patience and kindness. He would disappear for weeks at times because of his work, but you would extend invitations to him with no expiration date.

Albedo liked to draw you with the scenery whenever you visited new places together. Traveling with you was his favorite thing, since he’d get some research done and spend time with his favorite person away from the bustle of his lab.

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beautifulpersonpeach · 7 months

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Im late to the party but im surprised you dont actually stan new jeans!!! Youre the one who got me to check them out with their debut single and you have nothing but praises (i think) for them. Is it for the same reason why you dont technically stan enha?

***

Haha yeah you’re right I like NewJeans a lot. But I love Enhypen far more than I do NewJeans, and if there was any other group besides BTS I’d say I’ve been stanning for almost 2 years now, it would be Enhypen.

I think I’ve mentioned before that even though I like NewJeans, all I’m doing now is watching them. They’re just over 1 year old and while they have a more distinct identity than the rest of their peers, I’m still not fully certain what that identity is. Also, BTS’s ability to perform right out of the gate is indispensable to why I love them, and while NewJeans are better performers than many of their peers, it’s clear they’re still rookies and need more experience.

Whereas with Enhypen, after watching them for some time, I’ve become very certain of what this group is, and I’m fairly more confident in my opinion of the kind of people the members are, plus their music generally is more my taste given how heavily they lean into pure, good old fashioned hiphop and rock. They are also easily the best performers in their generation (probably tied with TXT but Enhypen has stronger individual dancers), I love their vocals, and their song choice is immaculate. The only ding against them is that their songs aren’t rap focused. But in a way, it doesn’t matter much since I get my fix of that from BTS and the rapline’s solo works anyway.

For most of the time I’ve been into k-pop I’ve been a casual fan of many groups, and before I became ARMY I watched BTS from the sidelines for about five years, before deciding to fully commit to the group. BTS was the first example of the kind of group they are, that I’d ever seen, so it took me time to really understand them. But the k-pop landscape was also very different back then too.

With Enhypen, I instantly recognize many things about the group that tells me I’ll love them. The excitement I get waiting for their new music reminds me exactly of how I feel about getting new BTS music. It’s pure, unadulterated, joy. There are many similarities with BTS in how the group functions, and key differences too, but they’re still quite young so things could change.

By the way, I’ve also mentioned that I think NewJeans is similar to BTS, but I mean this in the way k-pop fandom reacts to them, which is very reminiscent of how k-pop stans have been treating BTS since debut.

#BTS #newjeans #enhypen #kpop #txt

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theladyfromplanetx · 8 months

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(Because if you try to read the original, you'll get hit with a paywall. This article was originally published in 2021.)

By Paul Krugman

The blogger John Rogers once noted that there are two novels that can shape the lives of bookish 14-year-olds: "Atlas Shrugged" and "The Lord of the Rings". One of these novels, he asserted, is a childish fantasy that can leave you emotionally stunted; the other involves orcs.

Well I was a bookish 14-year-old, but my touchstones were two different novels:

Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation” and Frank Herbert’s “Dune.”

Many social scientists, it turns out, are science fiction readers. For example, quite a few experts on international relations who I know are fanatics about the TV version of “The Expanse.” I think it’s because good science fiction involves building imaginary worlds that are different from the world we know, but in interesting ways that relate to the attempt to understand why society is the way it is.

Anyway, that’s my excuse for devoting today’s newsletter not to the latest scary developments in politics and economics but to a much happier event: the U.S. release of a wonderful, satisfying film version of “Dune” — the first movie I’ve seen in a theater since the pandemic began.

Before I get there, however, a word about the new “Foundation” TV series, which is being released one episode a week on Apple TV.

The “Foundation” trilogy had a huge impact on my teenage self. For those who’ve never read it, it’s about social scientists who use their knowledge to save galactic civilization. I wanted to be Hari Seldon, the brilliant mathematician who leads the effort; this economics thing was as close as I could get.

“Foundation” might seem unfilmable. It mostly involves people talking, and its narrative inverts the hero-saves-the-universe theme that burns many acres of CGI every year. The story spans centuries; in each episode everything appears to be on the brink, and it seems as if only desperate efforts by the protagonists can save the day. But after each crisis, Seldon’s prerecorded hologram appears to explain to everyone what just happened and why the successful resolution was inevitable given the laws of history.

So how does the Apple TV series turn this into a visually compelling tale? It doesn’t. What it does instead is remake “Star Wars” under another name. There are indispensable heroes, mystical powers, even a Death Star. These aren’t necessarily bad things to include in a TV series, but they’re completely antithetical to the spirit of Asimov’s writing. Pretending that this series has anything to do with the “Foundation” novels is fraudulent marketing, and I’ve stopped watching.

Now on to “Dune.” The book is everything “Foundation” isn’t: There’s a glittering, hierarchical society wracked by intrigue and warfare, a young hero of noble birth who may be a prophesied Messiah, a sinister but alluring sisterhood of witches, fierce desert warriors and, of course, giant worms.

And yes, it’s fun. When I was a teenager, my friends and I would engage in mock combat in which the killing blow had to be delivered slowly to penetrate your opponent’s shield — which will make sense if you read the book or watch the movie.

What makes “Dune” more than an ordinary space opera are two things: its subtlety and the richness of its world-building.

Thus, the Bene Gesserit derive their power not from magic but from deep self-control, awareness and understanding of human psychology. The journey of Paul Atreides is heroic but morally ambiguous; he knows that if he succeeds, war and vast slaughter will follow.

And the world Herbert created is given depth by layers of cultural references. He borrowed from Islamic and Ayurvedic traditions, from European feudalism and more — “Dune” represents cultural appropriation on a, well, interstellar scale. It’s also deeply steeped in fairly serious ecological thinking.

So why was the 1984 film a disaster? Because the director — yes, David Lynch — either didn’t grasp the subtlety and richness or decided that audiences couldn’t handle it. That is, he did to “Dune” what Apple TV has done to “Foundation.” For example, in the book there’s the “weirding way of battle,” which is about using psychology and deception to overcome foes; in Lynch’s film this was replaced with some kind of gadget.

The great thing about Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune: Part I” is that he respects the audience enough to retain the book’s spirit. He trimmed the narrative to reduce it to filmable size — and even so, his two and a half hours cover only the first half of the book — but he didn’t dumb it down. Instead, he relies on spectacle and spine-tingling action to hold our attention despite the density of the story. In so doing he made a film worthy of the source material.

I wouldn’t say that this “Dune” matches the vision I had when reading the book. It’s better. The visuals surpass my imagination — those ornithopters! The actors give the characters more depth than the book’s author previously had in my mind.

Will this labor of love sell to a mass audience (and allow Villeneuve to finish his story)? The early box office looks good, and this does seem like the kind of film people will see twice — I did — so sales may hold up longer than usual. But I guess we’ll find out.

In any case, all of us former bookish 14-year-olds finally have the “Dune” movie we always wanted to see. Sometimes, things actually do go right.

#Dune #Foundation #opinion #Paul Krugman #2021 #AppleTV+#Denis Villeneuve

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clemencetaught · 3 months

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I wasn't sure if y'wanted them sent in today or tomorrow, BUT TO NOT MESS UP-- (you mentioned answering ic in the tags so yeeting these directly at Patrick >:3 sorry if they're too many omg)

Patrick (any verse)

What does it feel like when others depend on you, in one way or another?

Are you more prone to assuming someone needs you (in a service kind of way, for aid, for support-) or more likely to think they don't?

If psychics were 120% reliable and you could connect to those long gone… would you?

In which contexts are you more 'do as I say not as I do' and in which will you listen to your own advice?

Do you ever catch yourself growing… a little bitter, maybe, at people describing their comparatively 'mundane' problems? Is it envy?

Do you believe children should be shaped for the likeliest future or the future should be shaped for the children to come?

When is self-sacrifice acceptable?

When is hurting those you love acceptable?

in which the 54th victor of the hunger games gives an impromptu interview ( nosy questions for the birthday enby w/ @mythvoiced )

The tea cup is set on the saucer. Discreetly, Patrick slides his other hand into his pocket, where the synthetic patch on his palm wraps around his pocket knife– a habit of sorts, since he won his games. His pocket watch sits on the table, next to the saucier and on his lap, Sun has wrapped herself into a ball, her paws disappearing into the mass of orange fur. On the balcony outside his apartment in the Capitol, this is the only place Patrick knows he will be granted a modicum of privacy in the viper’s nest.

The shadow of the balcony covers the upper half of his body. Sun keeps dozing on his lap, in the sun.

Most times, when the questions are directed at him, they’re expecting an affirmative. Doesn’t matter if it’s coming from a District person or a Capitolite– they go to him for answers, first and foremost. And in the case of the latter, these questions are not questions so much as veiled demands.

Ones that he must always accommodate, regardless of the nature of the demand.

But these questions, this voice, is…well they seem genuinely curious. And the questions they’ve lobbed his way, they don’t seem to be expecting one correct answer.

Sun shifts on his lap. His leg vibrates from her purring. Patrick sighs, leaning back on his chair. “That…quite a lot of thoughts you have going on there, hm?” The knife stays in his pocket as he gently scratches the top of Sun’s head. “I’ll answer your second question first: people will always look out for themselves first. If they don’t think you’re useful, that you can contribute something good to their lives, then you’re dead to them, if they don’t kill you first. Make yourself indispensable to them and they won’t hurt you.” At least that’s what he tells himself– it’s easier to simply assume anyone who approaches him that they want something he can give them. “The younger victors will need someone to guide them anyway.”

And even the ones who vehemently deny needing someone, anyone. Patience is always key in those instances– from Taiyang whom it took almost six years and his tribute’s sanity to finally approach Patrick to María, who still slaps away any hands offered, friend or foe. Ironically, he had to approach her first.

“…I suppose I don’t think too much about that. If someone was asking for your help, you would be more caught up in what they’re asking, more than how you were feeling no?” A Trojan horse, he’s lobbed in their direction although he’s quick to revise: “...It scares me sometimes.” He confides, fingers pausing in their administrations on Sun’s head. Actually it scares him, a lot. “They’re…they’re relying on me to guide them to the best outcome and I want the same thing for them. I promise you, I really, truly do.” Whether it’s Hyuk, Devora, a tribute he’s been assigned to mentor, or any of the victors. And sometimes even the furball in his lap and yet– “But I…I can’t always guarantee that. But they still trust me, especially the younger ones.” The tributes from District Three– his tributes, the ones who take his hand, look up at him with wide eyes, clinging to every word, every gesture he makes as it will guarantee their survival. “Sometimes I think it would be better if they exercised more caution with me.”

A smile, bittersweet, if not actually just bitter, graces his lips. He shakes his head though, chuckling at the next question. “...Forgive me, that’s quite a question you have there. ‘Psychics’... I don’t believe that’s information that just anyone, district or Capitol, can get ahold of– although I have heard of some old religions still practiced in the districts so I suppose the knowledge and belief in such mediums is possible to get ahold of.” He stares down at his tea, the steam still rising. Even if it is a hypothetical question on a medium known to be more shoddy than reputable, he can’t help but pause. If they could contact those ‘long gone’; would that mean, if he asked them to, would he be able to speak to her one last time–

He shakes his head, eye catching his pocket watch, metal beaten and faded, the clock face wearing a crack down the right side. Still, it shimmers in the sunlight. “Even if I could, I…I highly doubt she would want to talk to me of all people.” If they hadn’t met, if they hadn’t fallen in love, she probably would still be alive. Tellessa’s family too.

After all, he was the first person outside of Tellessa who knew about her forbidden books. “Wherever they are, it’s probably better than here.” Or at least he hopes it is for her. A place where life doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is…easier. A place for souls to rest at long last. If such a place even exists in the first place. He picks up his saucer once more, still careful not to jostle Sun on his legs. She’s taken to loafing now– he knows her eyes are closed even if her head dips every few seconds. But make no mistake, that does not mean she is unaware. Trusting of the one asking the questions. If it was just him, she would be stretched out, a white underbelly waiting for his hand to scratch kindly at the ceiling.

Perhaps the saying is true after all: like owner, like pet. Although Patrick would argue she’s more like Hyuk if anything.

“It depends on the circumstances,” he says as neutrally as possible. A vague answer for a hypothetical question, because that is truly it. “I suppose if one’s life was on the line, it would be better if they followed my lead, no?”

Not that that’s stopped, those with rebellious tendencies from committing treason anyways. ( And unfortunately, he can name more than one. ) It is ironic in that manner– for someone who knows the system, knows how to work within the rules all, has spent years perfecting his craft in survival arts, it would make more sense to invest on those with similar goals. And yet here he is, worrying about the ones who are decided not interested in survival and therefore would spurn his advice at any given moments. “Not that…that following my advice has ever helped them make it through.”

(His tributes. All thirty nine of them. No two games are ever the same, the gamemakers would never allow that. If the circus known as the Hungers Games must be reborn over and over again if it wishes to continue.)

He takes a sip of his tea, washing down the momentary displeasure. Or at least he thinks it will be only a moment long. “I suppose what a Capitol citizen would consider a ‘mundane issue’, as you put it, would differ from those of someone from the districts. The former does seem more inclined towards complaining if only to build comradery amongst one another. I’m just glad that they have such means to…channel their frustrations.”

( It’s in times like those, where he wishes his temper could curdle, the way Devora’s does in the face of the Capitol Elite. How he wishes he could simply let her use the knife to silence those idle complaints. )

Patrick takes another sip of his tea. It burns in his throat. It’s bitter too– he must have let the leaves seep for too long. But the asperity doesn’t just settle on his tongue. “Are we talking about an ideal world or the one we live in now? Depending on who you ask this question to, you’re guaranteed to get quite…different answers.” A smile, as frigid as the shaved ice the Capitol serves as a delicacy during the games, crosses his lips. “Our great nation was built to provide safety and prosperity for the children. To serve them. Although whether the truth is actually the other way around will again, depend on who you ask. As a mentor to my tributes, I suppose…we can’t deny the reality in front of us, no?”

Sun yawns. He puts his tea down and idly, he scratches the underside of her chin and he feels her purring against his finger. “Are you sure you should be asking me that question? I would think there are more…suitable candidates for this question.” People like Hyuk, he means. People like María– the kinds who would gladly make sacrifices, give pieces of themselves for a cause. “Self-sacrifice won’t get you where you need to be– there’s a reason martyrs are only known after their death– they’re even given a chance to be known. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. They’re only deluding themselves into believing they can make everything better. A…colleague of mine said it best: ‘a martyr works, a survivor works better’. If you want to truly help the ones around you, self-sacrifice will only get you so far.”

Or so Patrick claims. He can hear it though– the sound of Hyuk shouting at him to stop lying. The truth is, self-sacrifice, if it is for a tangible reason, is…well maybe it is not worthwhile, but it can be certainly respected, especially if this tangible reason is a human life. The Capitol will always wonder what spurred Patrick to hold his district partner’s hand even if it burned a hole through his skin, will always wonder why Taiyang insisted on protecting Link in the arena, will always wonder why, why, why would Devora so willingly serve as President Snow’s puppet even if it further severs her ties to the districts despite everything the games took from her.

They would never understand compassion in a dog-eat-dog world– self sacrifice.

“...However, I suppose, if there was truly a good reason to do so…well, I have yet to see it.”

( Like the promise of a better world. If there is even one that exists. )

His hand stops. Sun turns her head towards him, copper eyes watching him. “When do we not hurt the ones we love?” Perhaps the better question for him is: when is he not hurting the ones he loves? He saw it in her eyes and Hyuk’s too. And yet they forgave him, somehow, every time. If not for that, well…would there even be a reason to keep going? “That’s part of caring for someone, no? You are preparing for them to hurt you without retaliation.” He shakes his head, snorting. “I think the answer should be obvious, if it guarantees their well-being in the long run, I think that is a gamble to be considered. That being said–”

Sun jumps off his lap and stretches, paws facing this curious passerby. Patrick crosses his legs, hands resting on his lap. A veneer, similar to the one he dons in the Capitol flashes through, even if he is not currently in his usual suit. “You wouldn’t want to be close with someone like me. I’ve been known to have…a reputation of sorts. One of burning and you could…no, you would most definitely get hurt, one way or another and we wouldn’t want that happening, no? Just a thought for you to consider.”

He watches Sun make her way to the sliding glass door in the shade. Her tails whips side to side as she looks up at the handle. Then she looks at him and meows.

Patrick glances at his pocket watch. “It’s feeding time for Sun.” Well, sort of– it’s more like it’s half an hour before her feeding time, but he knows gets antsy the closer meal time gets around. But this person doesn’t have to know that. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking care of business now. If you need anything more, you know where to find me.”

Or better yet, he’ll know where to find them.

#long post cw #mythvoiced #the victor ( answered. )#the victor ( verse three. )#hahahahahahahahaha i asked for this and LENLEN DELIVERED :'DDDD #over 2k words....and it took three days for me to write and i wasn't allowed to stop......#lenlen i love you....and this also killed me jc he REALLY TOOK THE REINS :'DD #and said 'this is my show now ferre you have no say in this.'#and i was compelled to go along :'DDDD #and he didn't even directly answer some of these questions i'm so sorry lenlen...u won't get a straight answer out of him #especially not in this verse </3 #i think i managed to name drop most ppl's muses in this too?? :DD #BUT THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THESE MY DEAR FRIEND MY WISH WAS GRANTED #i had a lot of fun writing this even tho i died somewhere in the middle :'D #so uh enjoy the philosophy and the hypocrisy and the sads(tm) of all of this?? ( and his cat too <3 )#JFKLSDJFKLSDJ ONLY THIS ONE CAN FORCE ME TO WRITE 2K FOR HIM AND HIM ALONE :'DDDD

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evelyne-am · 1 year

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14th March 2023-

14th March 2023

Day 1

(By the way I’m really glad I didn’t post as last night because my day one continued over the 24 hours.)

I don’t know where to start. Those who follow my stories know that I didn’t sleep much, I felt nervous excited and scared all at the same time. There is a part of me that thinks that this kind of grueling training is exactly what I need, to strip myself to nothing after being somewhat applauded the last year or so in the music world, that has been nice after a long pandemic of feeling indispensable,but it has been completely unchallenging. But also it has been a long time since I have sat and created music, as opposed to performing it, and the next couple of months I had saved for that, so I wasn’t sure if fully I knew what I was giving up my creative space for.

I woke up 30 minutes before my alarm and had a chat with a couple of friends who were awake at the time thinking “ oh I have these extra minutes” only to discover it was my first day of my period. If you have a woman’s body then you will know for many that is horrible horrible day for most. For me it’s usually raging pain. Today was no different. I want to be full proof about being there punctually every day so the driver was ready for me and I was bang on time but I have not accounted for the fact that I would be in so much pain. I asked the driver to go get some medicine and said if you couldn’t find me, leave it in front of the lift. I reach 20 minutes before our call time so I can listen to some music and chill, the second I arrived I see others had already arrived; they were warming up walking, jogging and within two minutes of me coming sir and our other director Mohsina (henceforth referred to as M) also walked in. I did not have a chance to chill. I was pleased I was there before sir though, (like everyone else was,) that he saw my face when he walked in and not that of someone who came exactly time but as someone who came for themselves to adjust to the new surroundings just like we had been taught in the workshop. Sir comes daily with a whole car full of things; a project, Harmonium, a keyboard, speakers, and a big picnic basket full of goodies for us. Even in the workshops I’ve seen him always come 30 to 60 minutes early so that he has ample time to set up all his equipment and also if there are any questions for anyone who comes early. I see the room (pictured) on the 6th floor that will be my home for 3 months. It is beautiful in the morning sunlight, and way way nicer than the one we did the workship in, I feel so lucky the moment I have entered, a weird sense of belonging comes over me. After a quick warmup. There are 12 of us if you count M. 8 females and 4 males, quite a small cast. They are all quite pros but one of the males is a young guy who was in the workshop with us, tbh I was surprised to see him, but found out he is just shadowing the cast as he can’t attend daily due to university. The rest of us are the main cast, but it will determined what roles we each have as the play is designed. Sir started with a short but sweet message for us to be kind to be grateful and to remind us that we are doing is paying homage to the people that the play is written about (we’ll talk about that later) Sir told us a little bit about how his vision in the play. I won’t give too much away (but this blog will have a lot of spoilers for this play anyway, so don’t read if you don’t want spoilers for Spardhhas next production. ) But for now let’s just say it’s going to be immersive. It made me feel so excited, I can’t tell you. I have those feelings of when we were bringing Rahman Sir for his honorary doctorate in Berklee. But there I knew exactly what was going to happen I could envision it. Here it's outside my realm of thought everything that was talked about; lights and audience participation and set I don’t even know what they’re meaning but I could tell that it’s exciting.

My adrenaline got me through the first half, the first half is something that I know a little about as I had done the workshops last month. It’s fully physical, it's sometimes really hard, and sometimes there are little breaks that he gives for us to meditate in between the exercises. I don’t want to divulge his actual methods but there’s voice, breathing, full body, meditation there’s awareness of the room and the group exercises. As someone who has been to school where you are studying the entire aspect of an art, this is something that I can do technically- warmups, biology etc. The mental Aspect of being hundred percent aware of your surroundings is not something that I have studied. I am a very inside my head kind of person and Sir calls me out on it. My mind wanders constantly, and though I try to bring it back to be in the room it waivers a lot. I feel bad but I also appreciate Sir reminding me of this bad trait, this is the main thing that I would feel that I will have to work on.

Actually it is the reason that I have so many accidents, if you have read any of my Facebook status as you will know that I had about 3 to 4 accidents last year I have bruises all over my body. And just today I was thinking how reckless I am in my thoughts especially when I’m walking on the streets and I had a vision that I was hit by a bus. I’m thinking I must use what I learned in class in my everyday life and be less so.

At the height of our physical limits, sir gives us a break. I assumed it was about 20 minutes as it used to be in the workshop and I ran to the washroom. Oh that bloody ShilpokolA washroom. Thanks to the state of my health I spent the whole 20 minutes in the bathroom, the entire break. I had prepared a Tiffin of boiled eggs sausages and oranges, I planned to have some tea/caffeine to wake myself up for the second half as I used to do in the workshop. But I did nothing.

The second half is when we read the script. I had prepared my backpack to perfection but of course I forgot my glasses. What happened was, that I started falling asleep. Hundred Pages of bangla text l, everyone taking turns reading it; one would’ve thought that the hardness of it would keep me alert, or the fact that I could be next to read would keep me alert, but I fell asleep, I nodded off and in front of my 11 peers and Sir. I kept checking myself up and cursing myself and not sleeping enough, for not bringing caffeine (caffeine makes my heart palpitations go nuts so usually I don’t drink it) and for not bringing my bloody glasses that I really need to read this long text. And it was right then, during the second half of the rehearsal that my cramps came back in full bloody swing, the driver did not bring the medicines that I had asked him to do in front of the lift and I was squirming in pain. This was the point where all these thoughts crossed my mind that I would not be able to do this every day. The long hours, hard Bangla, and most of all the level of constant concentration felt really hard, especially with cramps. I tried to hold my back and massage it very discreetly so the pain would subside.I think M noticed and she asked me to come sit next to her in front of the desk where I could lean. From the second story (which shall henceforth be called M1- because its the first story in order) though I don’t know what happened, maybe it was sitting next to M, or the fact that it was something that hit me harder I was back in. I cried while the story went dark, i found the character so intriguing and hard to fathom. I even volunteered to read in my horrible Bangla reading With the risk of angering sir when I stumbled.

i left day one feeling absolutely in a rush, all my earlier doubts out the window (as you could see in my Insta video.) before I left I asked permission to write this blog from Sir. He seemed cool, which is why I officially start the blog today’s with the day one post.

The rest of the day was spent in multiple things, I was a bit down, I got distracted. The days homework was to prepare a section of the play to present the next day and by the time I did my to dos from my normal music life, procrastinate, spent time with my mum it was really late. On my way home from mum’s I was walking to buy some chocolate and listening to a song, when I fell down. Another of my accidents, because I was unmindful, the bleeding wouldn’t stop for ages as ususally that happens. I was reminded of how just that morning I saw myself being hit by a bus and now have vowed to stop being on my phone when I am walking the streets. Reading in Bangla is really tough for me so I asked DC (friend) To read it out for me so that I could record. Halfway through the story of M1, DC stops. At first I couldn’t understand why and asked if they were tired, but then I realise DC is crying. I realise this is the first time that DC is reading it and that the first time we had heard the story in class almost all of us were in tears too earlier that day. I will elaborate later about the stories themselves. I have taken permission actually to reveal here, but it’s intense, the most intense; it is about women and rape. While I was listening to the story being read out loud for me I saw a lot more things than I did when I was trying to focus on reading Bangla text. I didn’t really prepare a part but I knew the text a lot better last night than I did when I was reading it with my own eyes. But i did not feel as emotional the second time around, i dont know why, i was dilly dallying, and tho i stopped myself from doing the blog post, i still stayed up later than the previous night and at one point it was 2 am till i push myself to shut eyes. Something I can’t explain is that I woke up at 4:30am. It was my cramps, but I was sat in the middle of the night clutching my uterus and crying, I’ve had cramps before but I’ve never felt like . This story is creeping inside me.

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an-aussie-button-masher · 2 years

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The Real Heroes - Five Gaming Sidekicks that Carried the Protagonist

From combat and platforming to sneaking and puzzles, the hero in any video game can do it all - most of it, anyway. When the game is over and the protagonist is getting all the praise and glory, it’s easy to forget that they often had help. It’s rare that the main character can accomplish every single task in the game all by themselves, which results in the thankless job of the sidekick. They’re usually non-playable, rarely acknowledged, and almost always completely necessary for game progression. They’re not just there to help in combat; the player literally cannot complete the game without their aid. The companion’s help is indispensable in almost every game they’re in - activating mechanics, discovering hidden items, or simply acting like walking keys for otherwise-insurmountable obstacles. After all their hard work, it’s time to shine a spotlight on some of the best companions in gaming - give them a hand!

Sparx the Dragonfly (Spyro the Dragon, 1998) He might not have the star power of Clank or Daxter, but Spyro’s tiny dragonfly friend Sparx is one of the most important characters in the Spyro the Dragon saga. This diminutive little bug actually serves as Spyro’s health bar, changing colours each time Spyro is hit until he vanishes after the third strike - implying that Sparx is constantly taking all the hits meant for Spyro! Once Sparx is out for the count, Spyro will go down in a single hit, so you’d better keep that dragonfly healthy. Sparx’s other main ability is automatically collecting any nearby gems for Spyro, allowing the player to keep their momentum through each level without needing to carefully tip-toe around and manually grab each individual gem. Additionally, Sparx can point the player in the direction of any missing gems in the level, an invaluable mechanic in a game where gems can be easily missed in tall grass or around corners. On top of all that, Sparx also happens to be generally adorable with his little buzzing and zapping sounds, and his idle animations where he’ll even fly right up to the camera and wave at the player. Without Sparx, trying to 100% any Spyro game would be insanely difficult and tedious - it’s no wonder Sparx is Spyro’s best friend. He may as well be the player’s best friend too!

Trico (The Last Guardian, 2016) Escort missions: usually the bane of anyone playing them. The NPC you’re charged with protecting is often painfully slow, and seems to have a deathwish considering how often they end up walking into enemies for you to jump to their rescue. Thus, an entire game that is effectively one long escort mission sounds like hell, right? Not when the character you’re leading is a gigantic apex predator about fifty times your size. For most of The Last Guardian, your massive feathered friend Trico tends to be the one protecting the player, rather than the other way around. Trico is the only thing standing between the defenceless player and the armoured sentries trying to capture them, and climbing up onto its back is the only way you can clear pretty much any area in the game as Trico leaps from platform to platform across the giant ruins the two of you find yourselves in. Besides being plain badass, Trico is also the most realistic and impressive example of animalistic AI I’ve ever seen in a game. Trico really feels like an actual creature - it gets easily distracted by food and will paw at any treats out of its reach, it will splash around in water for fun, and it is very careful not to accidentally step on the player if they happen to be hanging around its giant feet. The bond that the young boy you play as forms with Trico throughout the game feels just as real as the bond the player will form with it, and soon you’ll be treating the huge beast as though it were your own pet. An adorable, unstoppably powerful pet.

Six (Little Nightmares 2, 2021) After spending the first game in the playable spotlight, Six takes a step back into a supporting role in the prequel game Little Nightmares 2 with some of the most impressive AI I’ve ever seen. Hand-in-hand with Mono, the player character, Six quickly proves to be the most helpful companion you could ask for in the warped and dreary Pale City. She helps out throughout the game completely unprompted, grabbing items and keys for two-person puzzles and running ahead to demonstrate how to clear certain platforming segments. Six even treats stealth sections as though she were a real player, ducking and dashing about when it’s clear, unlike certain other game companions that just blindly barge through like there’s nothing to fear. Other moments in the game add to the lifelike feel of Six, reminding you that she’s just a little girl under that hood; she’ll grab random toys just for fun, amuse herself in empty playgrounds if the player hangs around long enough, warm her hands on fires, and so on. Of course, Six isn’t exactly what you’d call an “innocent child” - that fire she warms herself on? It’s the burning corpse of a monster you trap in an incinerator. She’ll snap fingers off the sentient hand enemies for fun, ambush and rip apart enemies that are set up to be avoided, and generally remind players that she was a bit of a psychotic little monster in the first Little Nightmares. Players of that game will know to be wary of Six - after all, Six doesn’t play second fiddle for long, and the second game’s lead character Mono is nowhere to be seen…

B12 (Stray, 2022) Have you ever wondered what your cat could be capable of if it could just talk? As it turns out, the answer is “save a whole city of robots”, all thanks to a tiny little translator drone. In Stray, the playable cat wouldn’t be able to do much of anything if it hadn’t encountered B12, a small flying drone that acts as a translator and item-grabber for the heroic feline. B12 has completely lost all their memories after being stuck as an AI in a massive software system for millennia, and it’s due to the actions of a small ordinary cat - that is, stepping all over a random keyboard and batting various objects off shelves - that B12 begins to accompany it and help the cat escape. B12 offers most, if not all, of the game’s overall lore and backstory to the player, hidden in various “memories” that the cat can discover around the underground city to help restore B12’s mind. In return for this, B12 helps the cat (and the player) by collecting useful items, hacking certain electronics, talking to the resident robots and guiding you ever higher towards the city’s upper levels. As such, despite being the cat’s “sidekick” for the duration of the game, B12 is technically the one doing all the heavy lifting - the cat is effectively B12’s ride. As more and more of B12’s past and the larger plot surrounding the game’s setting is revealed, the more engaging and intriguing the game becomes beyond the general “play as a cat” gimmick. If not for this glitchy little bot, Stray would be over within minutes, and we’d be missing out on a massive, fascinating world to explore from the eyes of its tiny tabby hero.

Smallfry (Splatoon 3, 2022) While plenty of other video game companions are helpful in their own right, it’s not often that you get to weaponize your little buddy. In Splatoon 3, the story campaign features a tiny, friendly Smallfry salmonid accompanying the player like a pet, acting like a throwable bomb in some levels to distract enemies, activate platforms, and even stun otherwise-invincible foes. Certain levels will also strip the player of all their gear save for Smallfry, meaning you’ll have to rely on his help to reach the goal. Outside of the main story levels, Smallfry’s job is clearing out all of the deadly “Fuzzy Ooze” covering most of the overworld and blocking your progress. Touching the Fuzzy Ooze even slightly will instantly kill the player, spitting out a hairy corpse, but not Smallfry - he just gobbles it all up, eating a path from level to level. Besides his amazing appetite, Smallfry will also sniff out hidden collectables in the overworld all on his own, hopping out of your backpack and scurrying madly to the invisible treasure. When it comes to the grand finale of the campaign and it’s just you and Smallfry against the final boss, Smallfry really proves his worth - from eating the Fuzzy Ooze protecting the boss, to powering up at the last stretch to really even the odds as Hugefry. It’s truly a sight to behold. Finally, as per the norm in Splatoon, Smallfry is just plain adorable. Just look at those derpy little bug eyes!

There’s all too many of these unsung supportive heroes out there, so if there’s any other sidekicks that deserve the spotlight, feel free to let me know! Reblogs and likes are appreciated, and thanks for reading!

#gaming #article #spyro the dragon #sparx the dragonfly #insomniac games #the last guardian #trico #team ico #little nightmares #six #tarsier studios #stray #b12 #bluetwelve studio #splatoon 3 #smallfry #nintendo

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kendrixtermina · 1 year

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The „passions“ as specific experiences

I hadn’t put these on tumblr & it occurred to me that I probably should

After consuming a lot of books, videos, first-hand accounts etc, I’ve come to the conclusions that the „passions“ are in fact rather specific combinations of thoughts & emotions than in theory anyone could experience, but which the types for whom it’s the main issue experience quite powerfully & get chased about the landscape by.

Perhaps it’s better let’s use the term „lower emotional habits“ to get away from judgy religion sin talk. nowadays a lot of therapists like to use labels like "counterproductive" or "unhelpful" to avoid ppl internalizing anything in a judgy way.

Now I love a good cardinal vices gimmick & we could have a nice long interesting talk about how the trope has been taken up in Japanese media & there interacting with the cultural background of buddhism, but I think in this case Ichazo’s desire to fit his list of observed „chief features“ (which he derives from simply sorting ppl by what annoys them the most; it will surprise no one to learn that he was an 8...) trying to fit it into the gimmick created a bit of confusion potential like you always gotta explain that „oh, its meant in the old english or latin sense of the term“.

Plus my inner pedantic art critic is a bit salty that they didn’t think to use Despair (the 8th deadly sin in orthodox christianity) for the 6 to complete the set of slightly confusing terms.

So I’m thinking, let’s get some specificity in here & try to compile what it actually, concretely is based on experience reports, just for specificity’s sake & to perhaps help ppl with their self-observation.

1 – frustration with things not being how they should or could be. Some are actually pretty conscious about how this motivates them to work hard & always do better, but it can also turn to stress & resentment or being aggrieved that reality isnt utopic

2 – that hit of gratification when someone says „Wow, I couldn’t have done it without you.“ Not that unlike with the 3, this isn’t just about good regard in general, but about having special significance to particular ppl. being tempted by the idea of being "indispensable"

3 – ppl report rather strong gratification when they’re admired/ praised, but also that they can be too focussed on what they „should“ be feeling/performing in such a situation that little attention is left over for their actual feelings or preferences.

4 – negative comparison. But not just or not necessarily of the self with others, but also general ‚if only…‘ scenarios, wishing things had gone differently, lamenting past losses, imagining better alternate scenarios, or even just against ones own idea of how one should be.

5 – the kneejerk refusal. That sometimes quite hostile ‚eugh, no!‘ kinda feeling when you’re suddenly talked at, asked to participate in something or even contemplating a task that you „have“ to do. Sometimes there’s a spike of dread, like ‚oh no what will I have to do now?!‘ or ‚It‘s too much, I can’t.‘

6 – that thing where as soon as you get settled on an idea, or encounter the slightest sugestion of another possibility, you immediately go ‚...but what if I‘m mistaken??‘ or ‚...what if it all goes wrong?‘ and the building anxious charge that sometimes comes with it.

7 – It’s a thought pattern where you just *must* have or do this one additional thing & feel like if you did have it then you’d finally be happy – but often you may just start craving the next thing. The LaHue guy has a very evocative video on this where he describes it as almost like the world curving and all paths twisting towards whatever Must Be Had. Implicit here is some anxious assumption that if you didnt get it that would be really bad.

8 – A tendency to amp up the intensity when encountering obstacles or opposition to one’s pursuit of pleasure and goals, be it interpersonal conflict or just „conquerring“ the stains on the floor. The difference to the 7 thing is that the 7 would be content if the nice things just fell in their mouth whereas for the 8 there’s some ‚thrill of the chase‘, anxiety or anger or even pain gets registered as positive excitement, so it has almost a little bit of a self-destructive component. What is being craved is not just gratification, but a sense of triumphing over obstacles.

9 – this is one of the harder ones to grasp, cause it’s less ‚active‘ in a sense. It’s when you’re thinking of doing something for your own development, like going after a goal, stating an opinion, drawing attention etc. and at the first serious obstacle you’re like, ‚ah, screw it, it‘s not really worth it’. Not worth the effort or the ruffled feathers or the discomfort in thinking about it, or whatever it is.

Yeah it’s not being lazy and it’s not „avoiding instrospection“ either – though it might be avoiding thinking about particular things that are to do with your goals, impulses and wishes and have discomfort associated.

What I find really interesting is how some types are built around chasing highs whereas others are rather structured around reacting to something unpleasant.

Note also that for the impulse types its a response to an obstacle to your will, for the feeling types its to do with self-evaluation, and for the mental types there’s a quality of tension to it, of fearing a bad consequence.

Like, for example, the 9 one - Of the common analogies inertia is probably the best, like a little rock rolling back into the valley if it wasnt pushed with enough force to overcome the hill.

The 1 will just stubbornly keep rolling gravity be damned and will argue that the stupid hill shouldn’t be there, the 8 will push the rock extra hard on the second attempt and send it flying…. Seeing the structure yet? Its really cool… even if it a map of what’s ruining our lives.

You can derive the triadic characteristics from this, 9 gives up but also tries to be ok with its current situation, 8 goes boom! But pursues what it wants…

Or with the heart types – 2 is chasing a feeling of positive self-evaluation (& trying to get it from others), 3 is proactively assuming a particular way of being evaluated that works for the situation, 4 is reacting to a negative self-evaluaton.

My latest attempt to get control of my life consists of mentally labelling the voice that says „No, no, I dont wanna, fuck you“ as my Inner Goblin and as the one that’s like „I can’t! I can’t! It’s too much!“ as the Inner Victorian Maiden in an attempt to maybe take them less seriously or remind myself inerrogate the soundness of their claims. They’re very persuasive sometimes tho, it can feel like a survival threat, this is all pretty deep-rooted automatic shit.

If it was wholly illusory, it would be too easy – sometimes I really don’t wanna or really can’t, so the trick is in distinguishing rather than kneejerk defaulting.

Same goes for the others, probably – enjoying being praised, for example, isn’t always bad. If you got it fairly & didn’t twist yourself into no painful contortions to get it, why shouldn’t you enjoy it?

So there’s the complicatedness.

#enneagram #typology

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artificialqueens · 2 years

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Masters of the Scene, Chapter 10 (Bitney Parent Trap AU) - Veronica

A/N: Thanks as always to @tumble4rpdr for her indispensable beta help.

Click here for prequels and previous chapters, or here if you’d rather read on AO3.

Chapter Summary: Bianca confronts Courtney about her surprise appearance at the party, and the two of them reach a very tentative peace.

***

“Ow!” Courtney exclaimed, as Bianca grabbed her arm and dragged her behind a pillar.

A thought flashed through her mind; this was the first time they’d touched each other in over seven years. And the fact that Bianca’s fingers were digging into her upper arm so tightly that she could’ve bruised it was not a very good sign. It certainly wasn’t the touch that Courtney remembered, the one she secretly still longed for.

After a moment, Bianca seemed to realize the same thing. Or at least, she must have regretted being so rough and loosened her grip, giving Courtney a flash of hope until she saw her mouth, still set in a firm line.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed.

Not a great start. Courtney took a breath and spoke very slowly, measuring each syllable so as not to escalate the situation. “I had to come anyway, and deal with the kids-” she began.

“Here?! Now?! We agreed on next week!”

“Well, I thought…” Courtney trailed off, looking at Bianca’s enraged expression, trying not to think about how even in this state, her ex-wife looked unfairly beautiful, dark eyes that pierced into her soul, full lips…

She swallowed, shaking herself out of her thoughts and rubbing her arm where Bianca had grabbed her. Why did Bianca’s withering glare still have such a strong effect on her, this many years later? She felt like she was shrinking in on herself, a lump rising in her throat.

“I can’t believe, after all this time, that this is the way you’d choose to-” Bianca cut herself off, closing her eyes briefly before saying, “And using the kids that way? That’s fucking low, Courtney. I never thought you would-”

At that, Courtney bristled. She was trying to be a good sport, but even the very accusation was offensive.

“I wasn’t using them!” she exclaimed, aware that she was getting defensive, that her voice was getting higher in pitch and volume. “They wanted to come. They were excited-”

“Yeah, well this isn’t a party for children, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You don’t want your kids at your engagement party?” Courtney asked suspiciously, turning the tables back on her. “Why not?”

It seemed crazy to celebrate an upcoming marriage and exclude half of the family members. Was this really what Bianca wanted? Courtney couldn’t help wondering if it was actually Fame who suggested an “adults only” party. She didn’t know her, of course, but she didn’t appear to be all that child-friendly.

“First of all,” Bianca began through gritted teeth, practically growling, “I don’t owe you any explanations-”

“I was just asking because-”

“And second, you really think they should be running around a cocktail party with an open bar?” Bianca asked. “No, scratch that. You really think Adore should be running around a cocktail party with an open bar? I love her to death, but I don’t trust her for a second.”

“They’re 11. No one’s giving them alcohol,” Courtney reasoned.

“Wow, someone’s clearly never read Drew Barrymore’s memoirs,” Bianca scoffed, rolling her eyes like a slot machine.

She was deflecting. That was clear. The truth was, Courtney wasn’t sure why she’d chosen to show up this way, other than morbid curiosity about the fiancée—which she had to admit, could have easily been satisfied in another, less dramatic way. Maybe she did want to prove something, despite what she’d told Adore.

The only thing Courtney was certain of at that moment was how agitated Bianca was, and she suddenly felt guilty, knowing that she was responsible. This should have been a happy night for her, and it wasn’t fair for Courtney to be intruding. She’d not sure what she was thinking, how she could have justified this in her own mind.

“Look, I’ll…I’ll go. And I’ll take the kids; we can go out to dinner or something.”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s…okay. Thanks.” She seemed to calm down almost immediately at that suggestion, face softening.

Courtney nodded, shoulders sagging a bit. Knowing that her presence caused Bianca that much stress, that even the thought of her leaving eased her tension, was somehow both unsurprising and deeply unsettling. She had to fight back tears, but fight them she did, because there was no way she was going to let Bianca see how easily she’d gotten under her skin.

“Okay, then. I guess…I’ll be in touch about a good time to talk.” Courtney bit her lip, avoiding Bianca’s big brown eyes.

“Wait. Um…” Bianca sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then said, “If you want to crash at my place, there’s a guest room.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked. She knew that’s what the kids wanted, of course, Danny whisking her bags into the guest room almost the second they’d arrived. However, she figured that staying there would be out of the question, so she’d reserved a room at a bed and breakfast a short distance from Bianca’s house and was planning to check in later that evening.

“No. I’m not.” Bianca let out a dry chuckle. “But…it seems like the right thing to do,” she added quietly. She followed up her statement with a tiny smile, dimples only barely appearing in her cheeks.

For a second, it caught Courtney off-guard, as she did what she’d been avoiding throughout their entire exchange, locking eyes with her, seeing the softness that she’d spent so many years missing. After a moment, she managed to tear her eyes away again, remembering where they were.

“Thanks. Um…have a good party. And…congratulations. Again.”

***

Bianca slipped off her heels the second she walked in the door, sighing with relief. It had been a grueling night—her heart never fully recovered from the shock of seeing Courtney up close, in the flesh. She’d tried to stay present, and on the surface, she’d done a pretty decent job. She’d laughed with friends, shared cute stories about how she and Fame met, managed to keep up the facade of a perfectly content and unconflicted bride-to-be. Inside though, she was reeling. She couldn’t help the racing thoughts that kept entering her mind, about Courtney and their awful break-up and even worse, the early days when they were so blissfully happy.

“I’m fucking exhausted,” Fame said, and Bianca letting out a dry chuckle, nodding in agreement. Exhausted was an understatement for what she was.

Bianca dragged herself up the stairs to the bedrooms, cursing her past self for demanding cathedral ceilings in this stupid house. Fame turned towards their bedroom, looking back over her shoulder when Bianca didn’t follow.

“You coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute. I’m just gonna check on the kids. Make sure Adore settled in okay.”

“Alright.” Fame pressed a kiss to her cheek and then headed for their bedroom, while Bianca crept the opposite direction down the hall.

She was careful to be quiet, in case they were already asleep—which she hoped they were, since it was past 1 am. She pushed open the door to Adore’s room, and was met with an unexpectedly heartwarming sight. Courtney was lying in the middle of Adore’s double bed, reading a book in the low light from the bedside lamp, with both kids curled up against her, sleeping soundly.

The three of them looked peaceful and cozy, and seeing it made Bianca feel strange, something akin to regret. It was like a window into another life, an alternate reality where she hadn’t fucked up so phenominally the first time around. She swallowed, pushing the door open a little more.

“Hey.”

Courtney looked up, quickly shutting the book. “Hi. Um…where’s…um, your-”

“She’s getting ready for bed,” Bianca said, keeping her voice as low as possible so as not to wake the kids.

“Oh.” Courtney started to slowly extricate herself from their clutches, untangling their limbs.

She’d traded in her party clothes for a pair of yoga pants and a baby-blue tank top, her hair tied up in a messy bun, clear frame glasses on her face. Bianca couldn’t help thinking that she looked even prettier like this, immediately annoyed at herself for the thought. When she was finally free, she crawled to the edge of the bed, kneeling there. Bianca could tell that she had something to say, so she waited patiently.

“Listen, I’m…I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to ambush you.”

“Oh no?” Bianca asked, eyebrows shooting up nearly to her hairline, wondering what else she could possibly have been doing. “What did you mean, then?”

“Well…I guess I thought…” Courtney hesitated, then continued, “I thought that showing up that way, everyone would have to be on their best behavior. But…that wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

Bianca stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge exactly how full of shit she was, before realizing that she might actually be telling the truth. She nodded, sighing a little.

“I uh, may have overreacted.”

“No, you?” Courtney teased, a smile pulling at her lips.

Bianca chuckled, then gestured to the kids, wondering how their sleeping faces managed to look so innocent. “So…what’s going on with the monsters? Have you figured it out?”

“I think…I don’t know,” Courtney said, letting out a bit of a sigh. “I think we’re gonna need to talk to them together.”

“Yeah.” Bianca sank down into an armchair in the corner, rubbing her forehead.

Courtney adjusted the covers, making sure they were both tucked in securely, then touched Adore’s cheek gently.

“She looks like you,” she mused. “They both do.”

“Yeah, too bad for them,” Bianca joked.

“Shut up, you know you’re-” She stopped, narrowed her eyes, taking in Bianca’s growing smirk.

“I’m what?” Bianca asked, finding herself anxious for the praise that seemed to be on the tip of Courtney’s tongue.

“Nice try.”

Bianca laughed, shaking her head at how easily they slipped back into the kind of lighthearted banter they’d always had. If she wasn’t so tired, she might be more concerned, but for now, she tried to enjoy the moment for what it was.

Courtney switched off the lamp and turned back to Bianca, her face now illuminated by only the moon, turning her green eyes silver. Bianca found herself struck by how profoundly beautiful she was, how her very presence seemed to glow.

It wasn’t the first time she’d thought such things, but it had been a while.

“...Can I ask you something…kinda personal?”

“Okay…” Courtney approached her tentatively, perching on the ottoman across from her chair.

“How come you never...I mean, why are you still single? You must be beating them off with a stick.”

Courtney shrugged, doing a very poor job of suppressing the smile that tugged at her lips. Still a whore for a compliment, Bianca noted with some amusement.

“Well, being single is…kinda fun,” she said with a glimmer in her eyes.

Bianca rolled her eyes. Of course she thought being single was fun. She was probably still the belle of the ball wherever she went.

“But also. I guess I just never found anyone who…” She paused, and Bianca found herself leaning in, eyes locked with hers, hanging on her every word just like she used to. “...who frustrates me the way you did.”

Bianca laughed, releasing some of the tension in the room, relieved that Courtney chuckled along.

“I am pretty talented in that area,” she agreed, putting a hand down next to hers, their fingers millimeters apart.

Courtney glanced down at their hands and then back up to Bianca’s face. She leaned forward slightly, fingers edging closer until their pinkies just barely brushed together.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted as if she could read Bianca’s mind—as if she knew how badly every cell in Bianca’s body ached to kiss her again. Almost unconsciously, Bianca reached forward to catch a lock of hair that had come loose from her bun, tucking it gently behind her ear.

As Bianca drew closer, she could hear the rapid pounding of Courtney’s heart—or was that her own heart?

Then, a loud creak caused Courtney to jump out of her skin, pulling back and clearing her throat. Bianca was grateful for the dark, which covered up her cheeks flushing with shame.

“It’s an old house, it’s just-”

“Right. Um…I should get to bed,” Courtney said quickly.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Bianca watched her leave, then heaved herself up out of the chair with a sigh. She glanced at the kids one last time before shutting the door and walking down the hall.

Adore turned to Danny, cracking an eye open, only to find her twin brother staring morosely up at the ceiling in the dark.

“So close,” Adore muttered softly.

“I know, right? Ugh,” Danny sighed.

“Well…there’s still time,” she said.

Danny turned toward her, a grin on his face, nodding. “There is.”

***

When Danny and Adore had first cooked up their whole harebrained scheme, he’d known what a longshot it all was. He wasn’t stupid or naive; he knew that people who got divorced rarely got back together. And when the divorce was as contentious as his moms’ was, it was even less likely.

Still.

He couldn’t help the glee he felt when he entered the kitchen and saw Mum at the stove. From the looks of things, she’d already found the nearest Whole Foods, and was whipping up a batch of his favorite quinoa pancakes with a banana coconut topping. That was all nice enough, but his chest flooded with almost irrational joy when Bianca entered, taking in the scene with a slightly puzzled look.

“What are you…?”

“Well, I haven’t seen my son for 2 months, so I thought I’d make the quinoa pancakes that he loves.”

“Ahh,” Bianca grimaced slightly. “Yum.”

“Don’t worry,” Courtney said, pouring a cup of coffee, her voice gently teasing, “There’s plenty for everyone.”

She handed over the cup, and Bianca accepted it gratefully.

“Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.”

It was all so cozy and domestic, and almost made him forget about the dreaded fiancée still sleeping upstairs. Adore was next to enter the kitchen, hair a mess, rubbing her eyes. She didn’t even make a face or pretend to be grossed out by the quinoa pancakes. She simply took a plate and helped herself to a couple.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, asking. “You eat quinoa now?”

“Yeah, well,” Adore shrugged, sprinkling the toasted coconut over her pancakes. “I tried these when I was pretending to be allergic to gluten, and they’re not bad.”

“Hey, yeah, that’s right.” Bianca looked over at Danny curiously. “You’ve been eating tons of gluten and dairy and all the crap she always does…have you been sick?”

“Nope.” Danny took a sip of the fresh-squeezed tangerine juice that Courtney had given him. He looked at her, head cocked. “Is that weird?”

“Well,” Courtney began, stammering out, “I mean, gluten sensitivity is not quite...I mean, he may not be ‘allergic,’ per se.”

“So...I’m not allergic to gluten?”

“Well...perhaps not? I just wanted us to eat healthy, and gluten is in so many of the worst foods, so...are you upset?”

Danny considered this for a moment, extremely aware of Bianca and Adore’s eyes on him, all of them expecting him to throw a fit over being deprived of donuts or whatever. Instead, he shrugged.

“Nah. I know you just want what’s best for me, Mum.”

Courtney grinned, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his forehead. “I do, precious.”

“Gag,” Bianca muttered, then nudged Adore’s shoulder. “How did you fake that for 2 weeks?”

“I deserve an Oscar,” Adore said, sticking her tongue out.

Courtney let go of Danny and turned to her next, smothering her face with kisses. She seemed to resist at first, but soon relented, letting Courtney do her thing, even enjoying it.

Danny caught Bianca’s eye roll and gave her a grin. She reached over to squeeze his hand, face melting into a matching smile.

“Well, isn’t this nice?” came a voice from the doorway. “Family breakfast?”

Danny turned, looking at Fame with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why did she have to show up now, just when things were starting to feel normal? When he could pretend, just for a few minutes, that they were a real family? The way Fame had said ‘family,’ with a note of disdain—he’d been doing his best to be nice to her ever since his talk with Bianca, but in that moment, he could have kicked her.

“Yeah, so what are you doing here?” Adore muttered under her breath, and to Danny’s surprise, it wasn’t Bianca who shot her a Warning Look, but Courtney.

“Exactly! So glad you’re joining us!” Courtney enthused, returning to the stove. “I’m whipping up some quinoa pancakes, would you like some?”

Bianca looked from Courtney to Fame, a bit like a deer in the deadlights. When Fame gave a shrug and said, “Alright,” she seemed to relax.

“Help yourself. Or, you can wait for the fresh ones, which will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Uhh…I can wait, thanks.” Fame turned to Bianca. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure…” Bianca followed her into the foyer, Danny watching them both with his brow furrowed.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Adore leaned forward and stage-whispered to Courtney, “I don’t get it.”

“You don’t get what, love?”

“The weird nice game you’re playing with Fame? Are you buttering her up so you can poison her or something?”

“God, no,” Courtney laughed. “I’m being nice because it won’t help you guys if I have a bad relationship with your new stepmother.”

Adore visibly shuddered at the word, and Danny felt it like it had been his own body.

Stepmother.

The very word conjured up images of fairytale monsters and heartless homewreckers. Which maybe wasn’t fair, but so far Fame hadn’t done anything to show him that she would be a positive addition to the family.

“And you should be nice too,” Courtney said, pointing the spatula at Adore before flipping the next batch of pancakes. She was rewarded with one of Adore’s best mega eyerolls, tongue sticking out in disgust.

“Look, I’m just trying to make the most of a shitty situation,” Bianca whispered, trying to get Fame to understand.

“I know you are, but it all just feels a bit…fucked up.” Fame’s arms were crossed in front of her chest, foot tapping impatiently.

“Well…exactly. That’s exactly what it is.” Bianca put her hands on Fame’s shoulders. “That’s my point.”

Fame sighed, rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna go back to the city until this all blows over. I don’t like the vibe, and it’s just…a little too strange for me.”

“Okay,” Bianca said, nodding. “If that’s what you want, I-”

“What I want is for you to not be sharing a house with your ex, but,” she shook her head. “I know this isn’t your fault, so…”

“I’m sorry. This is the first time the kids have done anything like this, and we just…we’re not sure exactly how to deal with it. A simple punishment doesn’t feel like the right move.”

“Right.” Fame sighed again. “Why don’t you call me when they leave?”

“I will.” Bianca leaned forward, kissing her gently. “Thank you for being so understanding. You’re the fucking greatest, you know that?”

“Hm,” Fame chuckled, “I know. You should really marry me.”

“I intend to.” Bianca kissed her again, arms around her waist.

“I’m gonna go grab my bags. Can you get me an Uber to the Jitney?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Bianca said. “I’ll get you an Uber back to your apartment.”

“Wow, big spender.” Fame gave her a wink and one last peck on the cheek before heading upstairs for her things.

Bianca took a deep breath, relieved and even a bit proud of their ability to handle this like adults, and went back into the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” Courtney asked sweetly. Her faux concern was really too much, but Bianca wasn’t about to make a scene.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She has to go back to the city to take care of some things.”

“Bummer!” Adore exclaimed insincerely, mouth full.

Bianca slung an arm around her. “But she’ll be back in a few days, and then you have the rest of the summer to bond your little butts off.”

“Can’t wait,” Adore said drily.

#rpdr fanfiction #bitney #adore delano #courtney act #bianca del rio #miss fame #bianca x fame #s6 #veronica #masters of the scene #parent trap au #bitney parent trap #lesbian au #trans character #kid fic #angst #fluff #domestic fluff

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yeonban · 2 years

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Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

@withsorrowandregret asked: 👀 + which original troupe member would you choose to sacrifice if their death would prevent the end of the spider? (For Shalnark)

The silence intensifies as Shalnark’s smile flattens into a straight line, expression eerily devoid of emotion whilst the gears turn and he begins to sincerely contemplate the topic; ultimately offering a preliminary / vague answer. ❛ Whichever one would be of the least use to the spider, either at the respective moment or in the long run. ❜ The tone is seemingly unbothered, and although he would prefer for such a scenario to never happen & for him to not be in charge of a fellow spider’s death ( much less of one of the founders’, a decision akin to destroying a monumental part of a mechanism’s core ), the sixth realizes the futility of such wishful thinking in the grand scheme of things & the inevitability of disaster eventually befalling their ranks once more ( many of the spider’s legs had previously been cut apart from the main body, left either dead or dying - this hypothesis wouldn’t be the first, nor the last of its kind ).

Undettered by the heaviness of the subject & the hypothetical responsibility placed on his shoulders, Shalnark placidly continues, raising a finger ( the initial reply hadn’t been quite specific enough / quite justified enough, and thus the blond offers his train of thought; with no traces of subjectivity left in any of his subsequent explanations ). ❛ Danchou and Pakunoda’s abilities are indispensable to the troupe, so I definitely wouldn’t sacrifice either of them. Machi’s threads can help with regeneration and can be used to track moving targets, which means she’s an important asset to have as well. ❜

A pause for the words to settle, and he raises a second finger. ❛ Once the members with rare or special abilities are out of the way, the next thing to consider in this scenario is overall strength, or in other words - which of the remaining founding members is the weakest. Fei and Uvo are by far our strongest, or more durable, fighters, so they’re out of the equation by default. Other than them, there are only two founding members left to consider: Nobunaga and Franklin. ❜

Returning his hand to his hip, only a mere instant is spared to cement his decision before he utters it outloud; gesturing in the air with his unoccupied hand. ❛ From a purely objective point of view, I would probably sacrifice Nobunaga. While the two are equal in strength, the primary difference is that Franklin tends to maintain his composure under most circumstances, whereas Nobunaga is quick to act on his emotions even if they may clash with the rest of our wishes. It isn’t a bad trait to possess per se, but paired with how common his ability is, I believe he would be the safest choice if one of their deaths was indeed mandatory for the spider to survive. ❜

He then nearly asks ( am I included in this? ), but the query brings rays of doubt; and therefore Shalnark opts to simply place an addendum, wasting no time to once again explain his reasoning. ❛ I'm not sure if Phinks and I count as original troupe members, but from the way this question is phrased, I take it that I shouldn’t consider myself as an available option. Between Nobunaga and Phinks, I think Phinks’ destructive power outclasses Nobunaga’s, but Phinks is even more impulsive than Nobunaga is, so it’d probably be a coin toss between the two, if it ever came down to it. ❜

A sigh of finality, and a shrug of his shoulders follows; his muscles finally relaxing. ❛ My answer might change in the future depending on several variables - for example, if only a certain few of the founding members are present, or if some of them suffer any lingering injuries that may put them out of commission by the time this decision has to be taken, but if things remain exactly as they currently are, then this is what I would decide. Although, well, I would much rather keep this conversation as a mere fun mind game to test my analytical skills on, rather than an actual decision with consequences to bear. ❜

#muse: shalnark kurta.#withsorrowandregret #* shalnark kurta. / ic.#I REALLY DID /NOT/ MEAN TO WRITE AS MUCH AS I DID Shal just casually took the wheel and wanted to explain every little thing

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vro0m · 2 years

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vro0m’s rewatch - 85/299

2011 Singapore GP

It's round 14. Seb can already win the WDC. And he's on pole. He has a 112 points lead on Alonso and needs 125 to win the title.

Quali report. Kobayashi fucked up in the chicane, jumped on the bump and hit the wall. He's 17th. Lewis was seen racing Massa on the track. Massa says he wasn't thinking straight doing that. Lewis is 4th, his team wasn't able to refuel him in time for a final attempt. Sutil and Di Resta didn't even go out in Q3 to save tyres. Schumacher also didn't go out for a final attempt to save tyres. The Mercedes are 7th and 8th. Massa is 6th. Alonso is 5th. Jenson is 3rd. RedBull front row.

Oh I thought this was gonna be all about Seb but we get a Lewis segment. Jake talks about all his team making sure he gets a perfect weekend and Lewis says he appreciates the attention to details. Jake says "you're just behind RedBull in the pit stops standings, did you know that?"

Lewis says "uh... In terms of what?" – "In terms of speed". Apparently they're a tenth behind but in terms of consistency Lewis believes they are further behind, It's something they're trying to improve on. Lewis says he's been personally talking to the guys about it and they're probably annoyed at him. He smiles.

Jake says Jenson told him they sit for a short time in the cars before getting out after driving here in Singapore, otherwise they get dizzy. Lewis says it depends because when he won he jumped out but then when he got up the stairs to the podium he had to pause at the top because he was out of breath.

He explains how they have meetings and he watches his laps and other people's laps to see what he did right or wrong. Jake says despite all his efforts and all his desire Seb is still dominating and does it put it into perspective how impressive he is? Lewis says it's not like golf or tennis where the individual has all the control. There's almost 700 people building his car and sometimes their way works and sometimes another team's way works. This time the RB way works and they've been working hard to catch up all year.

He shows how he has sweets in his very tiny room and they are indispensable to him lol. He explains how important to him it is to have his own space, not being taken photos of, being bombarded by engineers, doing media interviews and appearances. He can do what he wants, say what he wants, feel what he wants there in that room. Jake says finally Seb might win the title this weekend, what does he think it's like for him?

Lewis smiles "I think Sebastian, I can only assume he's massively relaxed. If you're winning– if you can possibly win the world championship 6 races before the end of the season then uh... Then you're not really stressed at all. When you're at the last race and everything depends on how you finish, how you perform that day, one little mistake and it could be out the window, that's what I call pressure. But he's pretty relaxed : if he doesn't do it this weekend, he'll do it next weekend. "

He himself still intends to win as many races as he can for the end of the season and perform well because that's what makes him happy. Everything they've learned this season will go into next year's car and hopefully it'll be a real killer.

On the grid, Lewis explains to Martin Brundle that he has a special helmet. It says RIP M. H & C. B, two people he knew who passed away recently. Martin Hines and Christian Bakkerud. Btw Seb is sporting a very gay rainbow sparkling helmet.

Okay formation lap.

And they're racing!

Ohhh right away the two Mclarens are attacking, unfortunately Lewis has to lift off and he loses places while Jenson gets P2 in the first corner. Then come Alonso and Webber, Massa, Rosberg and Lewis is now P7... Nico might have to give places back because he went through the run-off area to get where he is and Lewis is already under pressure from Schumacher. No wait he's already behind him actually... There are yellow flags but we don't know why. Mercedes tell Rosberg there's no issue with how they made it through that first corner and to focus on the race. It's Ricciardo who's limping to the pits with a broken front wing.

Now Lewis is starting to work on overtaking Schumacher and we hope it's not another Monza... Yes he did it, thanks to KERS and the DRS. Next target is Rosberg, then. Phew it’s tense, he's following so closely and yep it's done already. God that must make you so nervous seeing a car so close in your mirrors.

Massa, Webber and Alonso are battling for third while Lewis is trying to close the gap to them. Webber radioed DRS not working very well. We don't know if it's a him issue or generally speaking it doesn't work well here, in this context.

Only 10 laps in, Rosberg pits already. Webber overtook Alonso! Now Alonso pits anyway. That complicates things for Lewis who needs to clear Massa... Glock DNFs but who cares. Lewis can only hope Ferrari will pit Massa immediately. RedBull doesn't seem to be preparing for Webber. Yep McLaren in the pit, as is Massa. Who gets out first? Aww it's the Ferrari ahead. But Lewis is on supersofts so maybe he’ll have an advantage on track. NO THEY MADE CONTACT! Lewis lost his front wing! Massa has a puncture? They'll have to pit again. Dumbasses. Well it's Lewis' mistake really.

And Lewis doesn't pit immediately! The team is choosing a strategy. They're gonna put him on hards immediately with the front wing change to keep him out as long as possible. That's daring. He lost so much time in that extra lap and he might get a penalty. This is catastrophic. He's P16 now. Yeah he gets a drive-through on top of it. Martin Brundle says it's justified but also that you wonder why Schumacher got away with the same thing in Monza with no penalty.

A third of the race in Lewis overtakes Kobayashi for 15th while at the front it's still Seb followed by Jenson, and Alonso and Webber fighting for third place. Three laps later Lewis is P14. Let's see how much he can climb back. Now he overtook Massa on track for 12th, no issues this time. Alonso pits right after Massa did. Lewis already overtook Barrichello for P10. Three way fight for 7th between the two Mercedes and Perez. And it's a crash!! Schumacher is in the barriers. It looked like a heavy impact. He's out of the car already. The safety car is out. Webber pits.

Let’s see the replay. Rosberg and Perez touched and that sent Perez wide. Perez rejoins in front of Schumacher. Schumacher follows very closely and his tyre bites on Perez's rear which sends him flying.

Seb and Jenson also pit. Lewis is still in 10th.

Ready for the restart... Seb is already 5 seconds ahead how is that even possible, it's not even been a lap! Webber overtakes Alonso for 3rd place. Lewis is up to 8th. Now it's been a full lap after the restart and Seb is NINE FULL SECONDS AHEAD. This makes no sense. This car is ridiculous.

Now DRS is allowed again and that's it, Lewis up in 7th. Next target is Rosberg again. Done already. P6. Next up Di Resta. Done. P5. Alonso to come. It's gonna take a little longer to catch him.

Lewis might have to pit again. 14 laps to go. The decision is : are the tyres at risk of failing or not? Are they going to try for more points than 5th place or not? Is it even worth it? Webber pits from P3, supersofts. That puts Lewis in 4th but on old, old tyres. Jenson pits! Webber is attacking Lewis who defends but he has no grip on his tyres but he has to wait for Jenson to be done to pit, here he comes. Ooooh he's falling back... He's P9. 12 laps to go. Time to grind. Seb also pits. The Ferraris will have to react. Yeah, Alonso is in.

So the standings are : Seb, Jenson, Webber, Alonso, Di Resta, Rosberg, Sutil, and Lewis is 8th as he just overtook Perez. And he overtakes Sutil for 7th as someone stops on the track? Trulli? Whoever. Yellow flags. Lewis attacks Rosberg for P6. It's done. What a job he is doing in this race my god. Supreme. He's closing on Di Resta already. Easy done. P5. Alonso is 10 seconds ahead though. Jenson is now 2 seconds a lap faster than Seb. Seb runs into traffic. McLaren is really pushing the envelope here but they are going for it. 3 laps to go. Now Jenson has to clear the traffic as well. 5-second gap. Lewis is not closing on Alonso at all. All the focus is on Jenson. 2 laps to go. They're in the clear. Alguersuari DNF. Final lap.

And it's the end of the race!

Seb wins but not the WDC. Jenson second. Webber third. Lewis fifth.

Massa is very angry at Lewis for that incident. Jordan believes he shouldn't have gotten a drive-through for that and argues again that we've seen other people get into similar incidents and not be handed penalties. (No comment from me lol.) We unfortunately don't get to hear from Lewis himself.

#f1 #lewis hamilton #2011 #2011 singapore gp #vro0m's race reviews

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snydergrace · 2 years

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deangirlnotagirl · 3 months

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Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot

Ok so I have probably watched this episode more recently than others but it’s still been years and I only remember some things about it so I’m very excited to get started. I also cannot believe I’m getting back into Supernatural in the year of our lord 2024 but let’s do this. Literally just a stream of my thoughts while watching.

- LAWRENCE KANSAS 22 YEARS AGO

- Mary!! This family before it all went wrong 😭

- I forgot the show started with the fire scene and not Sam at Stanford this is so intense!!

- Oh my god Jared is so young

- The opening title but isn’t there usually a noise along with the title? Maybe they add that later

- Of course Jess is dressed up as a sexy nurse for her first scene 🙄

- Don’t get me wrong she’s still really cute I love Jess just forgot how sexy all the women on supernatural had to be all the time

- Oh wow that is a good LSAT score you go Sam

- Oh my god Jensen is so young

- Ugh Dean thinking the best way to greet Sam on a surprise visit after who knows how long is to break into Sam’s house. Is this a game/training exercise they used to do before Sam left? is this just Dean avoiding emotion by being obnoxious? Is it both? Perfect character introduction no notes

- Oh right the rampant misogyny from Dean he was so sleazy when we first met him

- “Dads on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days” the words that started it all I’m so nostalgic right now aaaaaahhh

- This convo bw Sam and Dean being the way the writers drop all the key family lore I love it lmao

- Dean doesn’t want to do it alone!!!

- Sam immediately caving

- Jumping into case solving mode!!! We have a ghost!

- In almost two years!! Have they not seen each other in two years or has Dean just not asked him to go hunting in two years??

- Dean’s reaction to hearing Sam is applying for law school and realizing college wasn’t just a phase, he might just never be coming back. And also that he has so much less chance of finding their dad without Sam.

- God poor Jess she didn’t deserve any of this

- Oh this ghost is legitimately creepy I’m feeling creeped out I forgot supernatural was more of an actual horror show in earlier seasons and I love it

- Sam and Dean’s passive aggressive arguing in the impala ❤️

- The cassette tape collection!!

- “I can’t hear you the MUSICS TOO LOUD”

- All of the things we get introduced to about the way the Winchesters operate like the credit card scams and fake IDs it’s just delightful

- Love this goth teen revealing the town ghost story

- “What do they talk about”

- The way Sam takes over the research and it immediately becomes clear that Dean actually does need him. Sam is indispensable to the operation. Honestly I’d like to think if he thought he could do it on his own he would. Despite what he says I don’t think he think he actually wants to ruin Sam’s attempt to escape. Or maybe not maybe he is using this as an excuse to try just one more time to get Sammy back before it’s too late. I’ll have to think about this as the show goes on!

- Why did John solve the case but then not finish dealing with the ghost? I’m guessing this is addressed in later episodes?

- “Jerk” “bitch” 😭

- I had such intense gender envy towards Dean and I did not realize it at all

- Ted Nugent!!

- Sam is so good at getting information from people I love him telling the ghost story I love when he shows that he knows the business as well as anyone

- Dean picking the lock on his handcuffs with a paperclip is something that can be so personal actually

- Sam getting back into it!! A part of this kid just loves hunting so much

- The special effects are fantastic

- “I’m taking you home!!”

- Why don’t they have any salt they know they’re dealing with a ghost Sam and Dean do you not know about salt? Is that not for ghosts? There was literally salt on the floor in their dad’s motel room

- God this ghost story is very sad if you think about it too much

- I’m one episode in and these brothers are already killing me as they discuss how Sam needs to go back for his interview and he was never going to stay longer than two days both of them just break my heart

- “We made a hell of a team back there” 😭

- Also Dean you gotta try being a little less manipulative buddy but I forgive you bc I know your damage

- THE BLOOD DRIPPING ONTO SAM’S HEAD IN A CALL BACK TO THE INTRO!!, NO!!! JESSS!!!, DEAN COMING TO SAVE HIM AGAIN!!!! OH GOD STOP!!!!!!!!

- “We got work to do” 😫

I forgot how genuinely I enjoy this show wow it’s ridiculous and has so many problems but it’s so much fun

#supernatural #supernatural rewatch #supernatural meta #supernatural fandom #spn season 1 #spn 1x01

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universalinfo · 5 months

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DECODING THE ROLE OF AN IT PROJECT MANAGER

When we hear the phrase “IT project management,” a rush of technical jargon and complex tasks might come to mind. But if we break it down, it’s about two key components: Information Technology and Project Management. Combine these two, and you get a field that’s both challenging and exhilarating. At the center of this intricate web is a key figure—the IT Project Manager. But what do they do? Why are they essential? Let’s delve in.

Understanding IT Project Management

To truly grasp the essence of an IT Project Manager’s role, one needs to first understand IT project management as a discipline. IT project management is a subset of project management focusing on the organization, execution, and completion of tech-based tasks. While traditional project management can span across various industries from construction to event planning, IT project management zeroes in on the realm of technology.

Just like how a symphony requires a conductor, IT projects need managers to ensure every piece, from software development to hardware installation, works in harmony. Without this oversight, tasks can easily spiral out of control.

The Role of an IT Project Manager

In a position of pivotal importance, an IT Project Manager wears many hats. They are not just supervising; they’re strategizing, coordinating, implementing, and reviewing. Their job isn’t merely to oversee but to ensure projects meet stipulated goals within the desired time frame.

Strategizing and Planning

Before any active work begins on an IT project, the IT Project Manager lays down a robust plan. This includes setting achievable goals, identifying potential risks, allocating resources, and setting timelines.

Team Coordination

A vital aspect of IT project management is team collaboration. The manager ensures everyone is on the same page. This means coordinating with developers, testers, designers, and other stakeholders.

Budget Oversight

Projects need funds. Whether it’s for software licenses, hiring specialized experts, or hardware components, the manager ensures everything is within budget.

Quality Assurance

It’s not enough for the project to be completed. It has to meet certain quality standards. This responsibility also falls under the purview of the IT Project Manager.

Risk Management

In the unpredictable world of IT, risks can come from any corner—be it technical glitches, team disagreements, or sudden changes in client requirements. The manager not only identifies these risks but also strategizes on how to tackle or mitigate them.

Stakeholder Communication

Regular updates to stakeholders, be they clients, senior management, or investors, are crucial. The manager acts as a bridge between the team and these external entities, ensuring clarity and transparency with HR Software Solution.

The Skills That Make an Effective IT Project Manager

IT project management isn’t just about technical know-how. It demands a plethora of skills:

Problem-solving Abilities: Every project has its hurdles. An effective manager doesn’t get overwhelmed but finds ways to resolve issues.

Technical Proficiency: A grasp over the latest in technology is indispensable. This ensures the manager understands the intricacies of the project at hand.

Strong Communication: This isn’t limited to conveying ideas but also involves listening to team members, clients, and other stakeholders.

Leadership Qualities: Managing a team is no easy feat. A manager must inspire, lead by example, and handle conflicts with grace.

Time Management: Deadlines are sacrosanct in IT project management. Balancing multiple tasks efficiently is a mark of an excellent manager.

Why IT Project Management Matters

We live in an age dominated by technology. From banking solutions to entertainment platforms, the world runs on code and servers. This puts immense pressure on companies to deliver robust IT solutions. And at the helm of these projects? IT Project Managers.

Their expertise ensures that the project doesn’t merely meet client expectations but surpasses them. They provide a structured approach, ensuring every step, from conception to delivery, is streamlined. Their role is indispensable in ensuring projects not only see the light of day but also shine brightly.

Conclusion

In the realm of IT, the spotlight often falls on groundbreaking software or revolutionary hardware. But behind every successful project lies the unyielding spirit and dedication of IT Project Managers. Their role, a perfect blend of technical prowess and managerial skills, is the backbone of any IT initiative. As technology continues to evolve and shape our world, the role of IT project management becomes ever more crucial. Entrusted with the responsibility of steering projects to success, IT Project Managers are truly the unsung heroes of the tech world.

The Ultimate Hr Project Management Step-by-step Guide

Demystifying Hris & Payroll Pricing: Pepm Vs. Pepp Subscriptions

Your Guide to Becoming an Hr Technology Consultant

#IT project management #project management

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