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qianinterprises · 3 years

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Unexpected Snow Day

Author's Notes: This fic was actually created for Valentines Day and a version of it has been posted on ncta and ao3.

Synopsis: The snow on the ground was a big surprise, and you aren't sure if it's pleasant or not. Sure, you love the snow, but the thought of spending Valentines Day alone isn't super appealing. It's a good thing your neighbor, Kun, has other plans to spend the day.

Pairing: Kun x Reader

Genre(s): fluff, tiny microscopic bit of angst

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 3900

This image is not mine. Credit to the owner!

You hadn’t been expecting to view the snow blanketing the ground when you’d woken for work that morning. Your first thought was that you must be dreaming. Upon further inspection, however, you discovered that your eyes didn’t deceive you at all. Snow covered the ground. Well, more than covering it. Coating it more like. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen snow like this. Actually, you hadn’t seen it snow here at all, at least, it hadn’t snowed in the three years you’d lived in the small, one bedroom, one bathroom cottage you rented from the sweet old couple a few houses down.

You let out a sigh and leaned against the window sill, pressing your nose against the cool glass. You loved the snow. You always had. However, snow today? You squeezed your eyes shut. Typically, you didn’t mind being alone; you’d gotten used to it, but you’d never had to be alone on this particular holiday. Sure, it had been a while since you had someone romantic to share it with, but you typically had friends, or, at the very least, your students to keep you company. That was actually the plan for today. Spend the day of love with your students.

Those plans were foiled now. You hadn’t checked your email yet, but guessed school would be canceled. This place hadn’t received snow in years. They had no idea what to do with it! School would be canceled indefinitely until the snow melted away or, at the very least, became more manageable.

Your phone dinged on the nightstand, drawing your attention out of your thoughts. You gave the snow one last glance, puzzled feelings bubbling in your abdomen, before moving back to your bed to retrieve your phone.

‘Look outside!’

The message had come from Kun, your neighbor.

Before you had a chance to respond, another message arrived.

‘Guess no work today! And all that time put into lesson planning!’

You let out a little giggle at that.

Kun taught cooking class at the high school, a few doors down from your class. You weren’t in the same subject, but you had hit it off instantly when Kun had brought you a batch of brownies to welcome you to the school a few years ago. You’d quickly become fast friends, something that only made living next door to one another that much better.

‘Extra vacation days for us and the kiddos!’ you replied.

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face. There was just something about Kun that made you smile. Whenever he was around, a smile broke across your rosy cheeks, even if you’d had the worst of days. Your other co-workers seemed to have picked up on this and began relentlessly teasing you for it. Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully), Kun hadn’t seemed to notice at all.

Your phone chimed again, this time portraying a little laughing emoji that Kun used a little too often. You slipped your phone into the pocket of your gray sweatpants. You were half tempted to climb back under the warm blankets heaped atop your bed, but opted to instead pace into the kitchen for a steaming cup of your favorite coffee.

While waiting for your Keurig to finish brewing, you stole another glance out at the snow through your kitchen window. The sun had risen fully now and you could now see white sticking to the tops of the trees. It was absolutely breath-taking. Something you hadn’t experienced in many years.

The sound of liquid filling your favorite coffee mug ceased and the sweet aroma filled the air. You poured in all of your creamers. Once it was sweet enough, you took a nice, refreshing sip, sighing softly as the warm liquid slid over your tongue and down your throat, instantly warming you.

Morning coffee was an absolute must. You couldn’t function without it. Sure, the caffeine was great, but it was more of the sweetness that you enjoyed. It was the perfect combination of sweet and bitter that got you ready for the day.

With a yawn, you moved into the living room of your little cottage. Monday’s were usually hectic and tiring, something you’d be counting on for the day. Now, with the snow covering the ground, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Perhaps you should stuff your face with chocolate and watch sappy romance movies with a box of tissues to dry your tears at someone else's happiness and your own loneliness. Maybe you should pop open the bottle of wine chilling in your refrigerator and drink the day away.

You sighed. You didn’t have a boyfriend to spend the day with. You didn’t have your best friend, who was already married, to cheer you up. You didn’t have your students to keep you distracted long enough for Valentines Day to feel full and bountiful.

You stretched out on the couch and your cat, Effie, jumped up in your lap, laying herself across your stomach, purring softly as she curled up. You stroked your cat's head and let your head lull against the throw pillows, staring up at the ceiling fan.

The best thing to do for a day like this would be reading a good book, you thought. It wasn’t long afterwards that you got up to grab a book from your collection.

The day was drifting away slowly, just as you had predicted. You was halfway through your book, taking your time to bask in the novel with a bowl of popcorn that Effie kept stealing. As lunchtime came and went, you found yourself succumbing to boredom. Your book was nice, but not nearly as interesting as you’d been hoping. You were blue. You had hopes that perhaps Kun would invite you over like he sometimes did for food or for a riveting game of Mario Kart, but as the day trickled away, those hopes vanished.

However, as your phone, which had been silent most of the day, began to ring, your hopes began to grow ever so slightly. The frown that had stitched itself across your face easily eased as soon as you picked up the phone to find Kun’s name flashing across the screen.

Light pink dusted your cheeks before you answered.

“How's your day going?” he asked.

His velvety voice sent chills up your spine.

“Boring,” you replied.

Your voice was dull with unenthusiasm that he chuckled at.

“I was bored too, which motivated me to clean out the old shed behind the house and I happened to find my own snow sled! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park with me to try it out?”

Your face heated up brighter than it already was. He wanted you to go? Sledding? With him? You swallowed thickly. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“I’d love to but uh… I don’t have a sled.”

“That’s fine! We can share mine! I-if you want to, of course.”

The way his excitement changed to stammaring made your heart pound. You’d never heard the cool, collected man stumble over his words before.

Your face heated, but you nodded against the phone, too anxious to speak just yet, although you knew he was waiting for an answer.

“I’d love to! When should I be ready?” you managed to squeak out.

“Ten minutes?” he asked.

Ten minutes?!

“Uh… sure!” you agreed, stupidly.

With that, the conversation ended and you shot up off the couch, startling Effie who had been asleep surrounded by popcorn kernels. Hastily, you tore the gray sweatpants down your legs, stumbling as you ran toward your closet, flinging your shirt off at the same time. As you reached the closet, you ripped the door open so hard it rattled, but you didn’t have time to care. Ten minutes was nowhere even close to enough time. Why you had agreed was completely beyond you. You could only assume it was your stupid, love-drunk brain going into over-drive with excitement.

You yanked a pair of black leggings off a hanger, ignoring the hanger that dropped onto the floor with a clank. You didn’t pause to pick it up. You didn’t have time! You rolled the leggings up your legs before grabbing a pair of jeans and sliding them up as well, hoping the simple combination would keep you warm enough. You pulled a sweater from another hanger, throwing it over your head and attempting to force your hands through, your heart racing as time slipped away, causing you to get lost in the sweater, attempting to blindly shove your head through the neck of the fabric.

With a grunt, you finally had the blasted thing pulled over your head and reached into the far back of her closet to retrieve a pair of black snow boots you rarely wore. You weren't even sure they’d still fit your feet, you could only hope.

You pulled your thick winter coat off it’s hanger. It was actually an old, tan, Carhartt coat that had belonged to your younger brother, but when he grew too big for it, shoulders too wide to fit, your parents, who hardly threw any clothing item away, found you could wear it. Sure, it was a little big on you. The sleeves were too long for your arms, the bottom covered your rear end almost completely, and it sat loose against your chest. Still, you loved it. It always smelled like pine and never failed to keep you warm, even in 20 degree weather.

You laid the coat out on the bed and turned your attention to the bathroom mirror.

Kun had seen you without makeup before, once, when his heat had gone out and he was banging on your door at 4 in the morning on a Saturday asking for warmth. That still didn’t make you confident. At the time, you didn’t care how your face looked, but now, as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, you wrinkled your nose.

Freckles were cute when they just covered the cheek-bones of pretty, skinny girls, but you was neither pretty nor skinny, and you had dark freckles all the way from the top of your forehead down to the chubbiness under your jaw.

Time was ticking down. You knew you didn’t have too much time to worry about your face, but the thought of facing Kun bare-faced made your stomach churn. So, you did the only thing you could. You opened the bottle of concealer and pulled the wand out. You used the wand to dot over the freckles all over your face before going over them all with foundation. It wouldn’t cover them all or hide them, but it made them lighter, less noticeable.

Once dressed completely, you gave one more long, unsatisfied look into the mirror. You’d covered as many of your cosmetic flaws as you could. There was nothing more you could do, and you were rapidly running out of time.

More time had passed than you realized. Just as you emerged from the bathroom, reaching for your shoes, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, tugging on your snow boots, over fuzzy socks. Once they were laced up, you pulled the winter coat over your shoulders and zipped it up to your chin.

Once completely ready, you shuffled over to the door, turning the lock and opening it hesitantly to reveal a grinning Kun standing on your tiny porch, clutching a dull, red sled with the paint chipping. He wore a beige jacket, hood pulled up over his head, and a pair of jeans he’d likely lined with long-johns. He was dressed casually. Much more casually than she was used to, and it forced the air to get trapped inside her throat. He was perfect, even when he was dressed for the cold.

“Ready?” he asked, voice smooth, melodic, and full of excitement.

“Absolutely!”

Your heart thumped a little harder in your chest. His attire, the sled, his smile, the day; it all made this seem like a magical date. You knew it couldn’t be but… in your dreams and your diary, it would be the most perfect date you’d ever gone on.

He walked down the three small steps leading to the ground that was covered in the icy white powder. As soon as he stepped foot on the ground, his boot crunched under the snow, a sound you hadn’t heard since you were young. It brought back so many memories of a happy childhood spent building snowmen and having snowball fights.

You followed him off the porch, you own feet soon crunching into the snow.

Kun led the way from your yard into his, taking a shortcut to the park not far from where you lived, a little more than a block away. You made your way up Kun’s driveway and out onto the side of the road. A snow plow had already come through to scrape the snow and ice off the road, but it hadn’t done a very good job. It had left ice in the center of the road and the scrapped away snow leaned precariously on the shoulder, teetering between off the road and on it. Not much of anyone would be driving today anyway, you supposed.

As the two of you made the short journey to the park, you exchanged small talk, mostly about classes or students you had in common. A brief conversation about your desire to get a German Shepherd puppy and Kun discussing his goldfish, Hendery and Xiaojun.

Before long, you’d reached the park and your eyes grew wide. From the moment Kun asked if you’d wanted to go sledding, you’d held no other thought about the complications in your mind, specifically the complications of the amount of people currently running amach. More specifically, your students, both past and present, seemed to be everywhere you turned. In fact, as you were taking it all in, Billy Bridges, one of your more… challenging students, flew past on a juvenile snowboard, nearly plowing over another adult in his path.

Your heart pounded nervously in your chest. You weren't great in crowds, especially in crowds that included your students that would ask a million questions about seeing you when you saw them again. Part of you thought it would be best to just go home, ditch a Valentines Day sled date and do something else, but as Kun’s gloved hand found your bare one, your mind blanked. He didn’t say a word, but he seemed to somehow know how nervous you’d become. He slowly guided you up through the throngs of people to a tall hill on one side of the park, a hill not too many people were occupying, as surprising as it was.

Once at the top, you took a moment to survey the area below. It was amazing. The usually green field was covered in thick white like some sort of enchanted wonderland. Children with pink noses were sliding down smaller hills on homemade sleds. Teenagers threw balls of icy fun at one another and chased each other around with snow-dusted boots. Others lay on their backs, stretching their arms out and flailing them as if they were trying to signal for help, forming the wings on an angel as their legs opened and closed over and over to make the outline of a dress, creating a pile of snow between their legs. Parents stood around, watching their children have fun or tilting their heads back with opened mouths to a falling snowflake on their tongue.

“Ready?” Kun’s voice brought you out of your reverie, his hand squeezing yours gently.

You looked back at him, grinning and nodded. As snowflakes began falling around them, several flakes became trapped in his hair, making him look like a dazzling snow prince that made you weak in the knees, and the urge to throw yourself at him became more impossible to withstand.

Luckily, he gave you a smile and turned away, releasing your hand and dropping the red sled into the snow, balancing it on the top of the hill, careful not to let it slide down without passengers.

“Did you want me to push you first?” you asked once the sled was situated.

Kun turned around at your question, confusion etched into his brow until that confusion turned to mirror dejection.

“I-I was thinking we could slide together…” he said, a light pink dusting his cheeks.

He must have been getting cold.

You was flabbergasted, nevertheless, at his statement. Your mouth was agape and you silence must have come off as judging rejection.

“I mean, if you want to! But you don’t have to!” he insisted, voice wavering slightly as the words rushed out.

You was still struck dumb, but this seemed to be all the push you needed to collect yourself and respond.

“That sounds like fun!” you agreed.

Kun let out a sigh that you were sure was just a hard exhalation of air and his smile returned.

He opened his hand, offering it to you, who gladly took it, face beginning to feel warm. He led you to where the sled rested and held the sled as you settled onto it. You bent your knees and slid your feet at the base of the sled to stabilize yourself. Once you were settled, Kun released the sled and you placed your bare hands on the frozen white sheets to stabilize it as Kun slowly lowered himself behind you. Your cheeks grew hotter as he situated himself with his legs on either side of you. He scooted closer, until his feet were pressed against the head of the sled beside yours and your back was pressed against his coat-clad chest. You could feel his warmth and his heartbeat through their clothes, slow and steady. Your own heartbeat racing at the closeness.

Kun reached around you, settling his arms on your waist and grabbing hold of the steering robe that rested against your knees. He pulled it tight and let his wrists settle on the tops of your thighs.

Your face was hot. So hot you were surprised you weren't melting the snowflakes still falling around you. You fought the urge to nestle yourself back against Kun’s chest, to make yourself more comfortable in his embrace. You fought against every urge within yourself not to turn around and press a kiss against his lips.To claim this as the perfect date in the history of dates. In fact, the only thing grounding you and keeping you from acting on your feelings was your bare hands still resting in the freezing snow to stabilize the sled.

“Ready?”

Kun’s voice was so close to your ears, you felt like you could melt. All you could do was nod, too nervous to speak.

With that, you dug your fingers into the snow and used it as a springboard to topple you over the hill. With as much strength as you could muster, you did just that, forcing the sled to slide on the ice until gravity took control and you were descending the hill. The sled was slow at first, but it gradually picked up speed.

As you sped down, wisps of hair fluttered up into the wind as elated laughter bolted from both your chests. A wide grin stretched across your face. You had forgotten how much fun this was, or maybe it was Kun’s presence behind you that made it more fun.

Your eyes began to sting from the cold wind blowing in your face, drawing liquid to your eyes that you blinked away. Kun’s hands squeezed tighter around you, holding the rope and holding you steady in his strong arms. Everyone else had seemed to disappear. The only two people left in the world seemed to be the two of you sliding down the slope, laughing the whole way, wrapped up in each other’s bliss.

Unfortunately, the best moments never last forever and all too soon, the sled was sliding to a stop at the bottom of the hill. The world came back into view. Children were running around, teenagers were throwing snowballs, parents were catching snowflakes. Nothing had changed. You were still two people riding a sled who had no idea how the other felt.

As the sled came to a stop, you collected yourself to get off, ready to ask if he wanted to go again, but Kun’s arms tightened around your middle. You paused and glanced back at him questioningly, your cheeks heating again.

The snow fell around you, bits of it collecting in your eye lashes.

Kun didn’t speak for a long moment. His brown eyes just searched your, looking for the answers to a question he hadn’t asked.

You was about to open your mouth to speak, when he beat you to it.

“How do you feel about me?” he asked

Your cheeks flamed hotter.

“W-What do you mean?” you asked, attempting to play dumb.

You had no intentions on revealing your crush if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Am I just a good friend or… more?”

You were silent. It was your turn to search him. Your eyes met his again, hoping for the correct answer. As you looked, you saw no trace of jokes or laughter. You saw seriousness. A seriousness that you drew courage from.

“I see you as a really good friend who lives next door to me that I’ve known for three years,” you began.

His face seemed to fall and he started moving away from you. It was your turn to catch his wrist.

“A really good friend whom I’ve had a massive crush on for the past two years.”

It felt good to admit it. Your cheeks heated up more as you waited for an answer.

It never came. At least, not a verbal one.

Instead, a cold, gloved hand touched your cheek, drawing you closer before a pair of cold, plump, and absolutely perfect lips fell on yours.

It took you a moment to comprehend what was happening and to respond, but when you did, you placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss. Your heart pounded in your ears. This was absolutely, without a doubt, the best Valentines Day there was in the history of days.

At least until a snowball hit you in the back, drawing you from the kiss in utter shock. You spun around, eyes wide until they met the mischievous smirks of Kim Jongin, Kim Jieun, and Lee Perry, three students you and Kun had in common.

“Mr. Qian and Ms. (Y/L/N) sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” They began singing.

Their teasing brought more heat to your cheeks, and Kun drew you closer.

“Well, that’s what we were doing until you three broke the moment,” he scolded.

This did nothing but make the three laugh as they doddled away to go bother someone else.

You whined. Your perfect moment ruined.

At least, until Kun wrapped his arms back around your waist and squeezed again.

“So you see me as someone you had a crush on. I see you as my girlfriend,” he said.

You turned to look up at him, shock written all over your face. You searched him, hoping he was serious. Deeming he was, a smile broke out across your face.

“And I want to be your girlfriend.”

He smiled and brought you in for another kiss, one that sealed the deal officially.

Definitely the best Valentine's Day ever.

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years

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|7 DEEP| M| MASTERLIST|

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF/POLY AU

AU SUMMARY- Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! This is a candid in-depth look at the rollercoaster ride that is your life!

ALSO LOWKEY A RAGS TO RICHES STORY.....

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Tae, Hoseok, and Jimin, all already work with the OC and Joon, Kookie comes in later one as a new hire...and the possible final piece…

DISCLAIMER: Obv this is a poly so the boys are Bi..but outside of kissing and dirty talk I have not YET ventured into physical MXM….

NOTE- As long as this keeps getting support the initial plan is 7 one-shots, one for each boys. Everyone installment will have smut as well as a overall storyline, one that not only ties into your job, but also the OC’s (AKA YOU) special dynamic with each individual member. The last one-shot (7th) will be the first and maybe only one where smut wise it’s all 7 of them, it will finally address how they all came together, and will be partially a flashback sequence. HOWEVER, there will be bits and pieces of the “Characters” lives and what not sprinkled within the “drabbles” too...so those will also be worth reading especially, as the story developes....or at least reading the summaries!

Kookie will make appearances throughout, however, he is NOT as involved off rip as the other boys…

ONE-SHOTS SO FAR :

AFTER-HOURS- NAMJOON X OC (Tae comes in at the end) -

ABOUT- Your husband and business partner find you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR-You're in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor, because Yoongi’s in over his fucking head! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employees so she overworks herself!

AKA- “MEET THE KIMS”

PRETTY PLEASE- TAEHYUNG X OC - ( Joon comes in at the end)

About- Tae fucks you on top of your receptionist's desk before you fire her…

Or- Tae’s feeling a little needy...and somewhat high-key self continuous about you possibly hiring a new production assistant...AKA...Jungkook. It seems as though Mr. Kim takes pride in being the youngest within the office! It seems as though your baby boy just needs a little..reassurance…

JIN & CHOCOLATE- JIN X OC (FT A lil Seok at the end ) -

(5K SMUT WITH A SIDE OF PLOT! NOT JIN’S INTRO CHAPTER)

About-You suck Jin off…and brownie batter may or may not be somewhat involved because why the fuck not. Oh, Hoseok comes over to drop off weed…and welll….doesn't exactly leave

Or- His assistants birthday is tomorrow and she’s insisted on him making his infamous “Dizzy Brownies” AKA…pot brownies and Jin being the perfectionist he is, scrapes the first batch. You however, think they’re fine and if he’s not gonna bake with said batter you’ll find use for some of it…..Then Hosoek stops by to bring the missing ingredient…weed and his dick…

TOUCH ME , TEASE ME- NAMJOON X OC

(5K, IN COLORATION TO THE EVENTS THAT WILL TAKE PLACE IN “GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL)

About- Namjoon eats you out the minute you walk in the door because well…that’s the kinda husband he is!

Or- Jimin text’s Namjoon to brace him for the mood you’ll more than likely be in after a day full of drama and finally firing the front desk receptionist! Which essentially red for him to make you come hard AF and then feed you….OH, and You guys invite Yoongi over to talk about the Tae and Kookie “Thing”

PRIVATE SHOW- TAE X OC (NEW)

(5k, Holiday esque one-shot however for the 1st time it does dive into the downside of being in a poly relationship that’s essentially a secret in the publics eye)

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

UP AND COMING: In no particular order!

MUTED- YOONGI X OC (SIDE JIN)- HIATUS

Note, this is more of a smut drabble though it will be around 3k...this is NOT Yoongi/Jin’s official “Introduction” if that makes sense….(SNEAK PEEK IS LINKED)

About-Yoongi goes down on you in the back seat while you’re on a business call….Jin’s driving, lowkey watching..and being a little shit the entire time…

Or- You’re on the phone with a dick of an investor and a second away from losing your shit and calling off the entire deal…however…your boys decide to “distract” you. Give you a little something to keep you at ease so you don’t blow this 6 figure account…

MAKE ME PROUD- JIMIN X OC (ALL THE MEMBERS ARE IN THIS BRIEFLY)

About- Jimin and yourself take a trip to get a sneak peek at “Filter” before it opens… and Jimin fucks you on top of the bartop…

Or- Jimin’s ready to make his first solo big boy investment….AKA...opening up his own Gay club in WeHo...and the new business venture also reopen’s old wounds about his past. Both good and bad..but at the end of the day he remembers he wouldn’t the version of himself that he’s oh so proud of...without a little someone named “Y/N”

“PARTY FAVORS”- YOONGI X OC-

About- You and Yoongi get a little one on one time while in Amsterdam, IE getting completely stoned, and attending a sex show..hell maybe even joining in on a sex show...shit just get’s wild in the Dam!

OR- You and your boys jet out to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate 16 AVN award nominations (AKA THE TONY’S/GRAMMY’S OF PORN) and while high and in a country where nobody knows who you are...(which means Yoongi and yourself are free to do as you please even in public)....Yoongi admits for the first time that sometimes he feels a type of way that HE wasn’t the one that married you considering the two of you were a thing FIRST....

“CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS” - JIN X OC (Side Namjoon)- NEW

About- Jin says he's coming over to discuss business over brunch, champagne, and a nice Jacuzzi bath…which, of course, leads to more than just talk about “Finances and portfolio expansions”

OR: Jin’s the eldest, he loves control, he needs control, hints why he’s the finical controller..always has been...even in the domestic sense. Jin’s also shit at feelings he’s used to being the shoulder to cry on not needing the shoulder..he’s not used to feeling vulnerable...so it’s not to easiest for him to admit that he misses being the one you all come home too...misses being “needed”! He’s used to being the one that has his shit together, being the glue that’s held you lot together during your worst times..so this...is completely out of his comfort zone!

“ALL EYES ON ME” - HOSEOK X OC (FT OT7)- NEW

About- Hoseok and yourself have sex in a very questionable place while at the launch party for ‘Spectrum” I.E. your newest business venture...sex toys…your man deserves a little…”Thank you” for all the work he’s put in...including planning this party!

OR- Hoseok’s in over his fuckin head, he’s the one essentially spearheading the launch of “Spectrum” which is obviously his job as the head of Marketing, tactical ETC, however, this is just..different...he’s literally the one steering the boat. He’s good at what he does he knows this, he’s fucking made for it...but...it;s still’ bringing out some old, nasty insecurities...reminding him how he's his own worst critic...a perfectionist to the fault. Reminding them of those days where he never thought he was good enough...and it would absolutely break him if he lets you lot down!

“GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL) -KOOK X READER | JIMIN X READER (SMUT) FT- YOONGI & TAE

About- Jimin and yourself take Jungkook shopping for a new suit to wear to the “Spectrum” launch party! OH, and Jimin fucks you in the backseat of your truck in the parking garage of the mall…..

OR: You know Kookie still in that “Broke college grad” phase only being with the company barley a month, and you don’t want him to feel self-conscious at the event! You’ve also been too busy to really check in with him to see how he’s adjusting! So, you thought something like this, in a more laxed atmosphere, would be a good solution! Oh and Jimin, honestly he’s just nosey as fuck and inched himself along, like nobody really invited him he invited his damn self! Also Jungook can’t underatand why the fuck your all so damn attractive...like...why!?

AKA-MEET JUNGKOOK JEON

SNEAK PEEK

***

THE “FINAL” ONE-SHOT, IS NOT FULLY OUTLINED YET

******

FINAL NOTE-

This series is open to request...for one-shot/ member scenarios/drabbles.

The initial 7 one-shots are done to get the dynamic and I guess you could say “Plot” set in stone...however, once that’s done and in-between I’m open to random scenarios as long as it somewhat coincides with the “Universe”

This is a story that follows normal day to day life in a sense....they just happen to live a very exciting one!

Anything from them going grocery shopping and making dinner...all the way to the OC and one of the boys fooling around on set...as long as it fits the vibe. I’m down!

*** To clarify as well...publicly ( And in the workplace) the world just knows your married to Namjoon....the whole poly situation is not something blasted on your Wiki...at least not yet....***

(Optional)

***POSTIONS’S WITHIN THE COMPANY***

(Obv things are spread out now and they have other employees but they all STILL oversee multiple jobs...It’s a habit now. For so many years they couldn’t afford the help! So, now that they can they’ve just become a little...protective of said job duties..)

Y/n Kim(26)- CEO/Founder/HR/Storyboard/Content creator/Directory/Scriptwriter/Talent scout/ALL OF THE ABOVE (Set design, DVD author, 2nd Location manager, etc)

Namjoon Kim (26)- CEO/ Founder/ Director/ Content analyst/ Lead scriptwriter/ Sr Production manger/ ALL OF THE ABOVE (IT, web design, outreach, etc)

Yoongi Min (27)- Head digital producer/ Program/site Planner/Production manager/Sound engineer/Production scheduler

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NOW HIRING: FOR A VIDEO EDITOR/IMAGE PROCESSOR/SOUND EDITOR/SECONDARY PHOTOGRAPHER AKA-

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....WELCOME TO ONYX!

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spookyfbi · 3 years

Text

Another Untitled/Unfinnished Commission Dave Fic

Summary: Klaus dropped the briefcase and stumbled forward, falling to his knees, looking Dave over, drinking him in because it was Dave! It was Dave and how could this possibly be?

Author’s Notes: Klaus has no idea what’s going on because neither do I. He’s also pretty drunk. I guess we have to rely on Dave to push the plot forward, and what a marvellous and sexy job he’s doing of it too.

———

Klaus stumbled along the footpath, being careful to walk in a straight line. Well, being careful at least not to stumble into oncoming traffic. He wasn’t trying to get himself killed. Although if it happened, would it be the worst thing in the world? Perhaps he’d see Ben again. Ben - his brother, not that Sparrow guy - may be gone in a way that Klaus couldn’t see with his powers, but that didn’t mean he was gone in a way that Klaus couldn’t see if he himself were dead. Did it? Klaus may be the seance, but he had no idea how these things really worked. Perhaps he’d see Dave again. Klaus didn’t even know if Dave had met the same fate in Vietnam or if his life had also been changed like everything else. He had enlisted a few days earlier. Did that mean anything? Perhaps he’d see that little bitch on her bicycle and she’d send him right back. Or perhaps he’d see dear old Dad again and get another shave. Alright, so maybe Klaus dying did have the potential to be the worst thing in the world.

Klaus knew where his body was taking him. It was like muscle memory. Good old… Bill? Bruce? Or was it Boris? Whatever his name was, Klaus knew he had the good shit that would take the pain away, because the bottle of Gin he was halfway through just wasn’t cutting it anymore and he needed something stronger. And he’d just given a random guy a blowjob in exchange for a crisp $100 bill which he’d tucked away in his skirt pocket - Vanya had the nerve to throw away a perfectly good skirt with pockets! - so things seemed to be looking up for Klaus today. As up as they ever tended to be for Klaus anyway.

Suddenly, there were hands on him from behind, one over his mouth and the other around his waist. Muscle memory and some primal self preservation instinct kicked in and Klaus elbowed his assailant and sent his fist flying back into their nose before twisting out of their grasp. Klaus looked back to see who had attacked him and he saw a man in navy blue pants and a hooded black cloak on his knees and doubled over in pain and clutching his abdomen where Klaus had elbowed him. Klaus couldn’t see his face but he supposed it didn’t matter. Some random guy who thought he could get away with god knows what. Served him right! Then Klaus saw a briefcase next to the man and hey, perhaps there was something valuable inside. What were the odds that this was another time travelling briefcase that would take him to the middle of a war zone again? Pretty slim, Klaus figured, even in his inebriated state, and he liked those odds. So he picked up the briefcase and then gave the man a kick in the abdomen for good measure. “You picked the wrong guy in a skirt to mess with, Asshole!” he spat.

Klaus turned around and was about to start wondering where his bottle of gin went when he heard the man speak. “Klaus, wait!” And Klaus stopped and his heart skipped a beat as he spun back around because that voice was so familiar in the most impossible way.

The hood was off and it was Dave and there was blood smeared under his nose and he was leaning back on his heels and looking at Klaus with his brows knitted together and then he closed his eyes so forlornly and it was Dave and Klaus dropped the briefcase and stumbled forward, falling to his knees, looking Dave over, drinking him in because it was Dave! It was Dave and how could this possibly be? Klaus reached out to touch Dave, almost afraid that his fingers would pass right through, but they were met with solid chest, solid shoulder, solid face. Dave opened his eyes then and gave Klaus a sad half smile, reaching his own hand to touch Klaus’ face, cradling his cheek the way he often used to. Klaus ran his thumb along Dave’s upper lip, wiping away the blood that had fallen from his nose. He had an overwhelming desire to murder whoever had hurt Dave in this way before remembering that it was him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Years of training and then years of living on the streets, it-” then he stopped and frowned. “Wait, why did you grab me?”

Dave looked down sheepishly. “I was trying to save your life. In retrospect I realise it was kind of a stupid move.” And Klaus knew a thing or two about making stupid decisions in an effort to save a life. But… was he in danger?

“From what?”

Dave looked up at him again, the sadness still in his eyes, and his thumb began stroking back and forth along his cheek. “The heroin you were about to buy.” He said quietly. “The coroner said it was an overdose. I don’t know if it was just a bad batch, or…” The sentence seemed to catch in Dave’s throat. He closed his eyes again and sighed, letting his hands slip from Klaus to cradle his own head. “Shit.” he said. “Shit shit shit.”

“Hey…” Klaus said gently. “It’s okay.” He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten Dave so upset all of a sudden, but he tried to offer whatever comfort he could.

Dave lifted his head again to look at Klaus. “No, it’s not. I’m not supposed to let you see me.” He ran his hands through his hair and looked around. “What am I gonna do? I have to go back, I have to figure out a way to fix this…” He looked back at Klaus. “Will you come with me?”

“Okay.” Klaus had no idea what was going on, none of this made any sense, but what else was new? But one thing he was sure of, whatever was happening, was that he would follow Dave anywhere.

Dave nodded, then he started to stand up but winced and grabbed his abdomen again, so Klaus helped him up. Then Dave picked up the briefcase that Klaus had dropped and looked back at Klaus with a smile. “Hold on.” He said, as though Klaus had to be told, as though Klaus had let go since they’d made contact.

———

Dave had taken Klaus’ hand as soon as they’d arrived… wherever it was that they’d gone. A building of some sort. He’d ditched the robe after wiping the blood from his face and underneath he was wearing a navy blue suit and a white shirt and a very boring tie. He fit right in among the other people in office attire in this very bureaucratic looking building. Klaus didn’t, with his silver skirt and his white faux fur coat and his no shirt and his sneakers. Not that he cared; the goal of Klaus’ fashion choices was never to fit in, especially not in a place like this. But Dave seemed to get a little edgy whenever someone walked past them and did his best to block Klaus from their view. Klaus couldn’t find it in himself to be too upset about it though. He was still riding the high of Dave being alive, Dave’s hand solid in his own. Dave, about a foot ahead of him, looking around, leading him somewhere, who knew where. Klaus watched Dave’s back as he’d done a few times before as they marched through the Vietnamese jungle, one foot in front of the other. Klaus had followed him then, too, not caring where they were going at that time either. They could have been marching to their probable death. On some days they were, and Klaus still followed. All the way to the front lines, and he’d do it again and again. As long as Dave was there to be followed.

Finally they stopped at a door. There was a placard which read:

INFINITE SWITCHBOARD 2589

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

Dave peered through the peephole above the placard and then opened the door and ushered Klaus in, closing it behind them. He blew out a quick sigh and then made his way over to what looked like… well, a massive switchboard. He let go of Klaus’ hand and took hold of a few wires, and began placing them into various holes in the switchboard. Although he made a few mistakes along the way which got him electrocuted, Dave seemed to know roughly where the wires were supposed to go. It was delightful to watch Dave, sure hands and focussed eyes. It was delightful to watch Dave, period. It was delightful just to know that Dave was alive, living his life and doing things and filling his lungs with air. Klaus studied Dave’s face. He hadn’t realised how much of it he’d forgotten. The image in his mind was much younger, the most recent version of Dave that he’d seen. Much too young for Klaus to feel the way about Dave that he wanted to. This Dave was his Dave, through and through. The Dave who had held him, kissed him, loved him. The Dave who still loved him, because he was alive.

“Okay,” Dave said finally, and then he turned a few knobs and the screens came to life. They showed a hooded assailant grabbing Klaus from behind, Klaus fighting back, taking the briefcase Dave revealing himself, Klaus kneeling down, everything that had happened moments ago. How had all this been captured on film, and at different angles too? “Okay, delete…” Dave muttered to himself as he looked around the switchboard. “If I were a delete button, where would I be…?”

Klaus had an overwhelming feeling that he knew what would help Dave. He leaned across Dave and put his finger over one of the holes. “Why don’t you connect this one…” then he lifted his hand to touch one of the other holes “… to this one?”

Dave looked at him. “You know how to operate the ISB?”

Klaus leaned back and returned Dave’s gaze. His eyes were so blue! Klaus hadn’t forgotten, but… had they really been that spectacular? “The what?” he asked

Dave held his gaze for a few moments and Klaus luxuriated in the sight. Then Dave looked back at the switchboard. “This one and this one?” he asked, pointing to the same holes Klaus had pointed to, and Klaus looked to verify that they were indeed the right ones. Klaus nodded and Dave looked back at him. “Are you basing that on anything in particular?”

Klaus shrugged, “Just a feeling.” He had instincts like this all the time and they’d never steered him wrong. He’d learned to trust them without much question. Dave had witnessed it a couple of times in Vietnam too, though he’d never really believed in that sort of thing. Confirmation bias, he’d called it.

Dave looked at the switchboard and furrowed his brow. He took a wire in his hands, and hesitated for a moment. Then he gave a small shrug and connected the two holes. The screen changed and only the word [DELETED] was displayed in red against a black background. Dave’s jaw dropped and he let out a triumphant noise. He looked back at Klaus grinning form ear to ear, and his hand found Klaus’ cheek again. “You’re incredible” he said reverently, and Klaus had an overwhelming desire to kiss him then. Had they really not kissed yet? So much had happened. Dave was alive and right there and his lips had gone unkissed all this time and that would not do. Klaus leaned into Dave and Dave closed the distance and their lips met and Klaus could smell Dave’s cologne. He’d only worn it when they were on leave, hadn’t bothered in the jungle. They all smelled in the jungle and they all accepted it, but that night in the bar Dave smelled of soap and that cologne and it had been intoxicatingly sexy when Klaus had leaned in and kissed Dave that night for the first time and now Klaus was bombarded with memories of that night, the excitement and the newness of it all after months of not daring to hope. For three and a half years Klaus had not dared to hope that he would ever see Dave again - why would he? And now here Dave was in his arms kissing him and Klaus was overwhelmed and he held onto Dave for dear life - for Dave’s dear life, much more precious than his own wretched one.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Dave turned and looked towards the door, pulling his lips away. “Shit!” Dave whispered. Klaus spared a quick glance to the intruder - an older woman in a grey skirt and blazer that matched her grey hair. Klaus returned his gaze to Dave, who hadn’t let go of him, so Klaus didn’t bother letting go either.

“Oh my god…” the woman said. “Oh my god, Dave, what are you doing?”

“Shit!” was all Dave could say.

“Are you authorised to use the ISB?” Klaus felt the woman’s eyes on him. He didn’t bother looking back at her. “What is he doing here?”

Dave swallowed. “Barb, please… I am begging you, please just walk away. You didn’t see anything.”

“You brought Number Four to Commission Headquarters? Are you insane? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Killed? Klaus’ blood turned to ice. He tried to stop the image forming in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut but it was no use. He knew what was coming. He’d lost so much of Dave’s memory to time but this image was crystal clear. The blood running down the corner of his mouth, the eyes glazing over, the body growing limp in his arms, the color fading from his face. Klaus focussed on his breathing and forced his eyes to open. He focussed on the Dave that was standing in front of him, vibrant and alive and animated. The feeling passed and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“We won’t be killed if you don’t say anything.” Dave said. Klaus looked back at the woman, Barb was it? Bitch, don’t you dare say anything. Not if it could get Dave killed.

Dave looked down at Klaus’ hand and took it in his own. Klaus looked back at Dave. He hadn’t realised his hand had been trembling until he felt it against Dave’s steady hand. Dave gave him a look he knew well. They’d sought each other’s gaze countless times in Vietnam, whenever something bad had happened. When they’d lost someone or just made it through a dangerous situation. They’d always look for each other and wordlessly ask ‘you okay?’. Klaus forced a smile and nodded. Dave studied him for a few more moments, and then looked back at Barb.

Barb had said something, but Klaus had been a little distracted and hadn’t heard it. Obviously Dave had though, because he responded. “Alright, what do you want?”

Barb smirked, clasping her hands together. “I want to be maid of honor at your wedding!” Wedding? Dave’s eyes bulged and Klaus noticed the slight tinge of red blossoming in his cheeks. Wedding… what had Klaus missed? Dave closed his eyes, opened them, looked away, then eventually glanced at Klaus before quickly looking away again.

“Barb! We-we haven’t… we’re not… oh my god!” Dave closed his eyes again and the red of his cheeks deepened and Klaus was starting to formulate a theory about this wedding they were talking about.

“Sure!” Klaus said, turning his full attention to Barb now and letting go of Dave, stepping forward. “You can be our maid of honor, and you can help me pick out a dress! Or should I wear a suit?” He did a little twirl for emphasis.

“Oh, a dress, definitely!” Barb said with a squeal. Klaus squealed back and clapped his hands. If Dave’s life was on the line Klaus could certainly play the part of a blushing bride to keep this woman’s mouth shut.

“Then it’s settled!” he said, spinning around to look back at Dave, who was looking at him in horror. Klaus shrugged and took his hand. “Babe, we’ve finally got a maid of honor for our wedding!” Dave was still looking at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He seemed to be trying to convey his annoyance and discomfort through his look, and Klaus read him loud and clear, but he was having entirely too much fun with the situation.

“Barb…” Dave said, looking back at her. “Can you just help me get Klaus back to my place without anyone seeing him?”

———

Dave leaned against the door as it closed behind him. “So, when are we gonna set a date for our wedding?” Klaus quipped. Dave shook his head and looked away. Was he still upset? About Barb, or about…? “What, you don’t want to marry me?” Klaus looked around to distract himself from the doubts that were bubbling away in the back of his mind. Dave’s place was nice, but small. A lot nicer than the cot they each had in a tent shared with nearly a dozen other men. “You’d be lucky to have me,” he said as he opened the fridge, although he knew it wasn’t true.

Dave’s fridge had vegetables in it. And milk, eggs, cheese, margarine, a jug of water, orange juice… It was the fridge of someone who’s life was in order. No, Dave would not be the lucky one in their hypothetical marriage. Klaus closed the fridge and looked back at Dave when he hadn’t responded.

Dave was wincing and touching his abdomen. Klaus had completely forgotten! “Oh…” He rushed to Dave and helped him to the nearest chair. “Here, let me take a look.” He helped Dave out of his blazer and shirt. As he did so, he couldn’t help looking at the spot on his chest where he remembered Dave being shot. There was no wound. It was as though it had never happened. He placed his palm over it.

“Commission standard issue body.” Dave said, as though that explained anything. As though that didn’t raise further questions.

Klaus ran his hands down, gently pressing into Dave’s ribs, checking for a reaction. First aid had been one of the skills good ol’ Dad had ensured they’d learned, and every now and then it came in handy. Dave only hissed when Klaus pressed into the soft tissue just below his ribs. “No broken bones,” he said gently, “I think it’s just a bruise. You’ll be alright.”

Klaus looked up at Dave and Dave held his gaze. He ran his fingers tenderly through Klaus’ hair. “I guess you must have a lot of questions about what the hell is going on.”

Klaus shook his head. “No” he said. It wasn’t entirely true, there were questions. But they weren’t nearly as pressing as the fact that Dave’s body - Commission standard issue apparently, whatever that meant - had gone all this time without being kissed. That just wouldn’t do. Klaus pressed a kiss to the spot under Dave’s ribs that he’d kicked earlier that day. And then another, slightly lower. He trailed kisses down Dave’s belly until he got to those boring navy blue pants. Then he undid the top button.

———

Klaus’ head rested on Dave’s chest as Dave ran his fingers up and down Klaus arm. The thud thud thud of Dave’s heartbeat was the most beautiful sound. He could lay like this forever. Dave’s vitality could sustain him. He didn’t realise he’d been drawing a small circle with his finger right where he remembered the bullet hole had been until Dave took his hand and kissed his fingertips. He lifted his head onto the pillow so he could look at Dave. “We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to.” Klaus said suddenly. He hadn’t been planning on bringing it up again, but now that he had, he couldn’t help running with it. “Or is it Barb being maid of honor that’s the problem? Because to be honest with you, I think Allison would kill me if she knew I’d given the job to someone else. I’m pretty sure she’s been designing my wedding dress for almost as long as she’s been designing her own. And if our childhood fashion shows are anything to go by, it’s going to be absolutely horrid. Although her red carpet dresses are pretty classy, so maybe she’s developed some taste. I don’t remember what her wedding dress looked like, I was way too drunk on all the free booze by the time she walked down the aisle.” Klaus stopped rambling when he caught the despair in Dave’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Klaus, you can’t stay here.” Dave whispered. “And I can’t go back with you.”

Klaus swallowed as the words registered. And now the questions bubbled up urgently inside him. How long had Dave been alive, and why hadn’t he told Klaus? And what had he been doing all this time? And did he still want to be with Klaus? Could they pick up exactly where they’d left off in Vietnam? Did Dave still want to? Did Dave still want Klaus now that he wasn’t the only other queer man in their platoon? What did Dave know about the world? What did Dave know about the timeline and the future and had Dave met other men? Had he dated other men? Had he slept with other men? Klaus certainly had, and women too, in the past 3 or so years. So why not Dave? Dave had a life here, wherever here was. He had a nice place with a fridge full of food and a life without Klaus. And Dave deserved it. He deserved to live. He deserved to have a nice place and a nice life. Klaus wanted that for him, whether he was a part of it or not. “Oh…” he said, doing his best to keep his voice and his expression steady. “I understand…”

Dave placed his hand on Klaus’ cheek and held his gaze. “I don’t think you do,” he whispered. Klaus thought he saw the shine of tears forming in Dave’s eyes. “I want to be with you more than anything. When they brought me back, you were the only thing on my mind, all I wanted was to see you. But they told me if you knew I was alive they’d have to kill you. Something about the timeline, I don’t know… So I stayed away. I don’t know why they brought me back only to keep us separated. My whole life I’ve never fit in anywhere and then I finally met someone I fit with perfectly. Klaus, you’re all I’ve ever wanted my entire life. I’ve missed you every singe day I’ve had to live without you. It’s so unfair…” Dave was sobbing now and Klaus wrapped his arms and legs around him, wanting nothing more than to give every inch of himself to Dave so that Dave would never have to feel this way again. Dave clung to Klaus like a lifeline and Klaus felt the prickling of tears behind his own eyes. Dave wiped his eyes and pulled back enough to look at Klaus. “And I would be lucky to marry you,” he whispered.

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #commission dave

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demi-shoggoth · 4 years

Text

COVID-19 Reading Log, pt. 15

This batch is mostly comfort reads for me; monster manuals and books I’ve read before. Unfortunately, one in particular was decidedly uncomfortable.

76. The League of Regrettable Superheroes by Jon Morris. This book is a survey of weird superheroes, mostly from the Golden Age. The book is full color, with a short article explaining/cracking jokes about the hero on one facing page, while the other facing page is a comic page or cover. The book lumps everything from 1970 on as “the Modern Age”, but I get that splitting that up gets into both fragmentary returns (there are only two or three 90s heroes, for example). Also covered are some intentional joke character—Squirrel Girl, for example. There are some characters in here I genuinely want to read the comics of, like Mother Hubbard, who’s a rhyming, potion brewing witch who fights fairy tale gnomes and giants.

77. Lusus Naturae by Rafael Chandler. The book is written for Lamentations of the Flame Princess, a game with all the tastelessness of FATAL but a higher art budget. It’s supposedly a monster manual for horror-inflected games, but the tone varies wildly from over the top gore to robots to standard post D&D fantasy to a genuine comic book supervillain. The gore is really truly over-the-top; the first monster is kind and pleasant, except when it liquefies human children to mix with resin and sculpt into plinths. This kind of crude shock value is nearly omnipresent in the book, as well as a ton of forced impregnation, sex-obsession and general toxic misogyny. A lot of the monsters don’t seem fun even in a horror context—they rely on damned if you do, damned if you don’t gotchas, where killing them only makes things worse. In addition to the deeply unpleasant material, the mechanics also show huge gaps between concept and execution. For example, the ideologue is a monster said to be an entire pocket universe, and it attacks by destroying whole solar systems within itself. It has 5 HD and that attack deals 1d12 damage. The worst book I’ve actually finished for this project. I feel like downloading it has put me on some sort of watch list.

78. The Legion of Regrettable Supervillains by Jon Morris. Supervillains are more my speed than superheroes, anyway. This book is very much of a piece with its predecessor. Some characters in this book are villains that battle heroes from the other one. For example, 711 is a superhero whose alter ego is locked in prison, so he sneaks out to fight crime; his enemy Brickbat (he dresses like a bat and throws bricks at people, of course) appears in this one. There are several fairly prominent Marvel characters who show up in this book—Stilt-Man, MODOK and Batroc the Leaper all make appearances. Again, because I like supervillains, I feel like there’s a few strong candidates who got left out of this one. No Armless Tiger Man? No mention of the Outsider that fought Silver Age Batman? (The Outsider, btw, was a silver-skinned monster who could communicate telepathically and control objects from miles away. Also, he was undead Alfred the butler. Too bad Michael Caine never got to play him).

79. Endless Realms Creature Compendium, project lead Kirsty Garbe. Read in an attempt to wash the foul taste of Lusus Naturae out of my mouth, this book mostly succeeded. Endless Realms is a RPG that falls into the category of “fantasy heartbreaker”; it clearly wants to be the next D&D, plus more. The “more” in this case is more mechanics like Fire Emblem and more furry player races. Lots of elemental rock-paper-scissors mechanics, and these mechanics provide the fuel for many of the monsters. There’s elementals for each element, corrupt spirits for each element, and dragons that represent both pure elements and mixes thereof. The book wears its influences on its sleeve—it pinches myconids from D&D, boggards from Pathfinder, and some of its gem dragons have the personalities of their respective Steven Universe characters. The book’s creativity is strongest in the creatures of the Dream realm, many of which are truly weird and alien. All of the art is done by the same artist, Jennifer Elliott, which lends a unified vision to the project. Plus, she’s put all of her art online for free if you want to check it out. That’s how I heard of this book in the first place.

80. Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake. This book, about the relationships between fungi and other life, has been getting a lot of press lately. The book is mostly themed on the topic of symbiosis, of which fungi are well attuned, through sub-topics such as lichens, mycorrhizal associations with roots and human uses of fungi. The author has a sense of awe and wonder about biology, which I appreciate. There are both color plates and black and white illustrations (drawn with ink-cap mushroom ink!), all of which are lovely. My one complaint with the book is the absolute gung-ho nature of the author about hallucinogenic mushrooms and consciousness expansion—the potential hazardous effects of LSD and psilocybin aren’t even mentioned once, and even ergotism is basically glossed over.

#reading log #monster book #fungi #comics everybody #bad books

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notquiteaghost · 3 years

Text

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @deanwinchestergender, going in chronological order, ignoring notfic and also a specific number, not tagging anyone but feel free to say i did

1. Taako is not wallowing, he is a dignified young elf who has his life together, and he’s definitely not drinking away his sorrows in one of Neverwinter’s apparent bounty of shitty dive bars. That would be pathetic, and he is definitely not pathetic. | unstitch all the shit i’ve sewn, the adventure zone balance, mallet to the head about the unreliable narrator here!

2. The droid is propped up in the corner of the only building on the whole block with a roof. Cassian's never been one to put any stock in the Force, or fate, but something about this feels serendipitous regardless. | it’s great to have this chance to fail, star wars: rogue one, this is the first fic i wrote where i actually went back & tried to cut as many words as i could. cassian is A Man Of Few Words

3. Obi-Wan Kenobi is not like any other CO Cody’s had, not even among the Jedi. Not only does ze treat the clones like people - asks them their opinions, encourages their individuality, tries to get them all addicted to tea - but ze… gets it, somehow. | boy just let me hold you, star wars: the clone wars, oof this sure was the first time i wrote cody i do not like this anymore!

4. The facility is large, stiflingly hot, and covered in varying sorts of dirt and grime. Screams and groans echo through near-constantly. The work is exhausting, repetitive, mindless. | i think i get to keep coming back, star wars: the clone wars, oh do i love me a rule of three

5. The first time Kenobi had made Cody tea after a battle, ze had claimed to have made a full pot on autopilot - I'm having trouble adjusting to no longer having a Padawan, I'm afraid. He likes this particular blend far more than I do - and had practically forced Cody to drink it, for a given value of 'forced'. | our turn to carve windows, star wars: the clone wars

6. Every new batch of shinies gets younger, somehow. | the cost of war, star wars: the clone wars

7. On a statistically significant percentage of missions, both McKay and Ronon are functionally useless. | tearing out the sutures, stargate atlantis

8. It’s early afternoon on a Wednesday, and Jon is sat on the floor of his office. | but i was looking at his hand, the magnus archives, fun fact this fic came from me sitting on my kitchen floor dissociating

9. It’s not like– Barry’s not some sheltered recluse, this isn’t his first time meeting a trans person. Or, y’know, obviously he hadn’t managed three decades of city living without meeting a single trans person, but. Knowingly, this isn’t even his first time knowingly meeting a trans person. He has no excuse for this bullshit his brain has spent the last week spewing. | struggle to breathe / breathe, the adventure zone balance, establishing barry has adhd right off the bat

10. “Jon?” | capable of coming out alive, the magnus archives

11. Jaskier isn’t an idiot. He knows Geralt knows that — has, on multiple occasions, forced Geralt to admit he is, actually, capable and useful and, even, in some respects, smarter than Geralt. | and still i will live here, the witcher, not vagueing anyone at all here

12. Sometimes, Jaskier gets an itch. | gnawing through the bars, the witcher

14. When Geralt is ten, she’s a boy. | come on out and live, the witcher, what we're learning here is i like single sentence hooks

15. “If life could give me one blessing,” Geralt snarls, “it would be to take you off my hands!”

And, well. That’s not the worst thing anyone’s ever said to Jaskier, but it’s definitely the worst thing Geralt has said, and as willing as he is to cut the emotionally constipated idiot a fair amount of slack, when it comes to this sort of thing, Geralt isn’t the only one who’s had something of a trying week. | and come back later for it, the witcher, some bonus lines because the first one here is just canon dialogue, i'm still very proud of my jaskier voice in this

16. The first time Clint meets Daredevil, he’s led on his back on the roof of an apartment building in Hell’s Kitchen, bleeding from several places. | and we are not alone together, marvel, i started this fic like eight times..... got there tho

17. After Jon’s explained he is not, no matter how Martin asks, killing Oliver Banks unprovoked, and Martin’s gotten his sulk out his system, and they’re almost out the other side of the Corpse Routes, Jon asks, careful to keep the compulsion out his voice, “You do know why Oliver woke me up and you didn’t, right?” | shoulder to shoulder, the magnus archives

18. He wasn’t expecting it to be a thing, is the problem. | there’s nothing i wouldn’t do, marvel, this is just something i say all the time

19. Dick jokes, a lot, about being the only reason Bruce still remembers how to talk to people. About breaking him in for everyone else. He was Robin first, and he was Robin longest, and he’s why Bruce took in the others, he’s why Bruce isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. | in my own imperfect way, batfam

20. over a year ago i asked bruce what company policy on transitioning was like and yet this man was still surprised when i came out | to become public, evident, known, batfam

i think of these my favourite is "When Geralt is ten, she's a boy" because it tells you all you need to know & it’s only seven words. this was a nice exercise in realising i do actually know smth abt story structure, also. almost all of these are good as hooks

#yelling at clouds #if this comes up in any tags im sorry

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sgam76 · 4 years

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Five Favorite Works

Ok, I'll take a stab at this, though I really suck at posting links.

I typically don't write a large number of things in any one year, since most of my efforts go towards book-length things. So imma post 4 from the most recent year, plus one from earlier that's a personal favorite of mine.

All of mine are on AO3.

1. A Long Walk Down a Dusty Road

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621058/chapters/33789738

This is the fic I had to write to be able to continue to write John. It's an in-depth story of John's efforts to reclaim himself from his general dickishness in S3-4, and his recovery from Eurus' manipulations. There's angst, tears, humor and healing.

2. All In the Family

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727758/chapters/49899476

This fic is the continuation of my Vamplock series. As with all of these stories, it's relatively light-hearted, but this particular episode has an element of danger. It's got Prince Regent Mycroft, magical realism, and a really, really nasty Uncle Rudy. Oh, and BAMF Mummy.

3. These Old Shades

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580107/chapters/41436065

This is my current book-length WIP, set partly in modern day and partly 15 years ago, when Sherlock was a baby MI6 agent working for his brother. Here's the summary:

"Memory has always been Sherlock's best tool--his weapon of choice, in fact. But there have been times in his life when his memory is also his worst enemy. Right now is one of those times."

One note--I've never not finished a WIP. Never.

4. Larceny, Lawlessness and Opium

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18413843/chapters/43613639

This was one of my favorite things to write. It's a romp, mostly, based in my Scheherezade verse, using a fan-favorite OC, Pasha. This is the story of "how Sherlock met Pasha." There are gangsters, evil Chechens, and explosions.

5. Aftermath

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091381

This is one of my all-time favorites I've written. It's the story of how Mycroft handled the events of Sherrinford, and the decision he made to change his life-- to decide who he wanted to be. It's a direct sequel to an earlier work, With a Little Help From My Friends, which deals with the time immediately after Sherrinford. Here's how I explained it in my author's notes: "This is a direct sequel to With a Little Help From My Friends, and takes place two years later. While it does stand alone for the most part, I would strongly recommend reading that work first, as some important parts will not completely make sense otherwise.

This rose out of my re-reading my own work, and realizing that one of the things Mycroft says in that work is that "he is as (his uncle) made him". But, the more I thought about it, the more I believed that "my" Mycroft would reject that--that, as he told Sherlock, he would not "become" Rudy Vernet, that he didn't want to. And if that was the case, what DID he want to become? And that lead me here. It's unabashedly soft, and I can understand if you feel that Mycroft is wildly OOC. But, as he says himself, it's a choice. He wanted to change, and he did."

So that's the batch!

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humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 4 years

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Now I Am An Arsonist [Chapter 2: Science Will Continue]

Now I Am an Arsonist - When the power goes out at Aperture Science, GLaDOS is unwittingly uploaded into the body of a human test subject in order to preserve her intelligence. Forced to once again seek out the help of Wheatley and Chell, GLaDOS desperately tries to control her emotions before they consume her thoughts a second time.

---

Chapter 2: Science Will Continue

---

She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff blue jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.

Gradually, She sat up on the neatly-made bed, a rough linen blanket still covering Her lower half. The chamber had been deliberately made to look like a hotel room, complete with a TV in the corner and a nightstand on the side. Still, something wasn’t right.

It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.

A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.

GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Her computerized thoughts had been slowed tenfold.

Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.

No, this surely wasn’t right.

Only hours ago, only hours ago, She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…

Now, She was this.

What the hell is going on here?

There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to life a short, painful life defined by the burden of emotions. Even on Her worst days, even as a potato, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.

Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions didn’t merely burden Her logic; they were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like fear? Real, genuine fear?

That hurt more than Her head being torn off. It hurt more than being burned alive.

As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.

Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.

The heaviness of dread welling in Her processors as She waited for Chell to wake up was not something She wanted to reexperience. Was there even a name for that awful feeling? Whatever warm elation followed when everything was alright… GLaDOS would burn it at the stake before She ever felt that anguish again.

Ironically, the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.

In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes crashed off of the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.

The potato was bad enough. The potato brought Her closer to Her own humanity than She’d ever wanted to acknowledge, but barely minutes in GLaDOS could tell that this would be infinitely worse. GLaDOS felt Herself shaking, barely even processing the fact that this hideous amalgamate of skin and bones was now Her body. Now She had hair, She had hands, She had fingers and She had lungs and She had a heartbeat.

She had a heartbeat. A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.

GLaDOS did not particularly care to be weak.

Finally, She understood the meaning of organic in Organic Transplant Procedure. Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?

Whatever this was, whatever had happened, She had to figure it out. The potato battery, being fed to birds, and dying twice was apparently not enough to satisfy whatever gods lurked in Android Hell. She would spite them once again, return to Her body, and everything would be alright. It had been alright before, so why wouldn’t it be now? At least, this time, She didn’t have Chell and Wheatley working against Her. All She had was Herself and the facility.

GLaDOS took a deep breath, a sensation She had not felt for hundreds of years. The motion didn’t entirely calm Her nerves, but Her only option was to move forward. Staying here would do nothing to help. The faster She figured something out, the faster She could leave this awful body.

GLaDOS leaned one arm against the peeling wallpaper, trying to balance on Her boots. The heels on the shoes were suspended above the floor, supported by a spring. Shifting Her weight while wearing them, however, was an acquired skill. Gently lifting Her hand from the wall, arms out at Her side, She was stable.

Briefly.

Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.

A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.

She walked along the side of the wall and felt the way the heels bounced beneath Her, made specifically to take the impact of any fall. Cautiously, GLaDOS let go of the side of the room, miraculously still. She took a careful step forward, preparing for impact, only to see that She was steadier than expected. Still, each step was uneasy, tense and on the cusp of collapsing.

Walking around the perimeter of the bed, She peered at the little wooden nightstand. One of the drawers had already been pulled out, but the other remained tightly shut. Crouching down, GLaDOS wrenched the second drawer open, finding a small mirror clouded with age. Holding it close to Her face, She examined Her repulsive new features.

GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to find someone who specifically looked like She once had. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.

Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful. GLaDOS used to be a technological Aphrodite, gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.

Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, looked essentially the same when you’d seen enough of them.

GLaDOS’ real body was a physical manifestation of Her power; She didn’t care that it was pleasing to the eye so long as it conveyed a sense of authority. This new human body, with its small size, its blemishes and imperfections, conveyed the exact opposite. Other humans may have even described Her appearance with words like pretty, soft or even kindly.

The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.

For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.

Part of the zipper on Her blue jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.

GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.

Whichever body She was inhabiting was certainly one of a test subject’s, preserved in cryosleep for hundreds of years. GLaDOS could tell from the old uniform that this woman was one of the first batch of specimens, from all the way back when She was originally brought online. The woman had been brain-dead years before GLaDOS ever inhabited Her body. GLaDOS was now some sort of mechanical zombie, Her programming superimposed on this host. Even She had to find that a little unsettling.

That was typical of Aperture. Somehow, with every possible option available to them, they always managed to find the least ethical. It was a feat at this point.

GLaDOS placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.

As She entered the hall, GLaDOS was taken aback by the sheer number of chambers, suspended from above and hanging inches away from a more stable platform. Closing the door behind Her and jumping onto the catwalk, She couldn’t help but notice the sense of abandonment that filled the room. It had been centuries since the old Relaxation Center had been brought up to code, and previously there hadn’t been much reason to improve it.

Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.

The metal catwalk led directly onto a tiled floor in an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.

Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.

Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.

There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.

GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.

Somewhere around here there had to be a control room, or at least a place where She could catch a lift back to the Enrichment Center. The thought crossed Her mind that She might have to pass through a testing track, one of Her own meticulously designed traps. It didn’t matter. She’d deal with it when She got to it. Still, the fear that She’d have to fight Her own monsters remained in the back of Her head.

The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder was slowly becoming less effective. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.

Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.

Of course Doug had been here. That man was as ingenious as he was stealthy, and had found his way through every nook and cranny at Aperture. Not even Chell had been able to access some of the places he had.

GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.

Surviving had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell murdered Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were gone. Nothing could bring back a dead human.

As a potato, GLaDOS had been forced to confront the idea that if Wheatley blew up the facility, that would really be the end. There had been a part of Her almost content that if it was, Chell would be by Her side. Whether it was a vengeful wish, or a side effect of companionship was still unknown.

Back then, though, She hadn’t really been in control. She’d relied on simple hope that Chell could stop Wheatley before it all went down, not contributing much besides the occasional bit of advice. Now GLaDOS was responsible for Her own fate, fully mobile and fully alone.

Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.

After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether.

The question now was whether any light could be found in this hallway. GLaDOS uncomfortably dropped to her knees, feeling for anything besides the three cans. She grasped at something plastic with a switch on the side. A flashlight.

Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.

Portraits of Chell were splattered from floor to ceiling. Everywhere GLaDOS looked, a woman in an orange jumpsuit stared back at Her, shooting portals and knocking over turrets. Swirls of paint danced from one scene to another, blending each picture into the next. Words were haphazardly scrawled across, some of them poetic and others screaming pure nonsense. Whatever meaning they’d had was lost with Doug.

A common theme was the companion cube, and one particularly disturbing image replaced their iconic hearts with bleeding human eyes. There was a stark contrast between the idyllic, peaceful depictions of Chell sleeping and the scribbles of scientists running for their lives. GLaDOS could barely make out some of the more manic drawings, but those turned out to be the most horrifying. Tightly clustered loops signified a cloud of neurotoxin. Blotches of red were human remains.

GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into crazed warnings.

Don’t trust Her lies.

The path went on for about another fifteen minutes, twisting and turning at sharp angles. Metal doors led to cluttered offices, all of them sealed and locked. In some of them, the computers were still on, endlessly flickering in the darkness.

When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.

“Welcome, Aperture Science Testing Associate! You’re here because you’ve voluntarily, or involuntarily, chosen to sign over all your legal rights to Aperture Science and further humanity’s progress!”

Of course. Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.

She bit her lip in silent rage, no longer blinded by the light, gazing upon an airtight room with little more than a circular door. All around Her was white, covered in portal surfaces. Beneath Her, GLaDOS could feel the electronics of the panels whir, making the whole room seem alive. It could move at any moment.

“Before we begin, the Enrichment Center would like to remind you that you may suffer terrible injuries caused by our testing devices designed to create terrible injuries. If you have suffered a terrible injury, please review our community-shared legal manual, which states that Aperture Science takes no responsibility for terrible injuries caused by Aperture Science.”

GLaDOS knew that redundant message. It was backup, for when She wasn’t there to narrate. Testing tracks had levels of difficulty, and before Her takeover, it was fairly common for subjects to be screened and assigned one based on what they could handle. This message only played for the most difficult, and consequently, the deadliest. Not even GLaDOS was entirely sure what was in here; She hadn’t used it for fear of subjects dying before any real data could be collected.

“As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”

Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.

“The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”

GLaDOS was familiar with the portal gun from Her databases, and She knew exactly how to work it. Despite this, She’d never actually handled one Herself, unless being impaled on the end of one counted. The device was heavy in Her hands, cold and sleek against Her fingers. The center, black plastic encasing a glowing yellow coil, was warm to the touch.

Pointing at one of the white panels, She cocked the trigger, and a golden portal blossomed in front of Her. Running Her fingers across the surface, it felt like waving a hand through a ray of sunlight. GLaDOS turned around, shooting the next portal at the opposite wall. The portal which followed was a lighter yellow, less vivid than the first.

“Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”

The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.

---

Putting a cube on a button should’ve been simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.

That was all there was. One cube, one button, and several killing machines stuffed with thousands of bullets. It was for this reason that GLaDOS could not perform this extraordinarily simple job. The turrets blocking the way would surely be a hurdle.

Already, GLaDOS could feel the beginnings of human fear creeping into Her mind. She was out of the turrets’ line of sight, and yet the caution of Her new form compelled Her to stay hidden in the corner regardless. Nervously clutching the trigger of Her portal gun, She considered the dangers lurking in future tests. This one was only the first, and it had already deployed one of the worst weapons Aperture had to offer.

Logically, GLaDOS knew She could step out. She could put one portal behind Her, another at the opposite wall, and avoid the turrets altogether. Behind them would certainly be the cube and the button. Still, emotion was quite a world apart from logic. As a computer, She could be revived over and over again. Humans could not be fixed, and GLaDOS understood that in the very unlikely possibility She died here, She was never coming back.

GLaDOS didn’t want to admit that She was afraid, not even to Herself. She was sure Chell could tell back when Wheatley was in control; She’d let Her voice slip more than once. Now, with nobody around, She only had Herself to prove it to.

Removing Her cores all that time ago had also been the removal of Her regulators; She felt everything once they were detached, things She would have to relearn how to suppress. All She remembered before the world went dark, before Chell killed her, what She’d relived, was fear. Panic. Terror. There were a million words for it, none encapsulating just how soul-wrenching the phenomenon was.

Even then, that’s all it was for Her. Just an emotion. For human beings, fear was a sixth sense. It could be felt in a spiraling heartbeat, in beads of sweat, in shallow breaths and temporary, last-ditch strength. Fear was a state of being, and for the particularly unfortunate, a way of life.

GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not relocate it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living. Every day, if only for mere moments, it was almost guaranteed that a human would feel fear.

What a miserable way to live.

It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.

When She reached the other side of the room, GLaDOS found exactly what She expected. The cube glowed a bright yellow when placed on the Aperture Science Super-Colliding Super Button, and the chamber lock opened.

As the elevator descended, GLaDOS realized that She had no idea how to solve these tests. She was smart, and the solution would certainly come to Her eventually, but the human mind could only store so much. GLaDOS used to have entire libraries of nothing but solutions to tests, but the upload procedure hadn’t deemed that useful or necessary. When trying to remember, there was nothing. For the first time, GLaDOS’ mind was blank.

The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.

No, GLaDOS reassured Herself. This is alright. I’m used to being challenged.

After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.

This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, seeing almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.

The turrets were programmed to have some level of sentience, though their sense of self was not nearly as defined as that of a core’s or a human’s. It didn’t matter anyway; they wouldn’t be missed. For every one that was destroyed or made wrong, ten more were created in its place, and the missing turret was simply forgotten. Nobody really made an effort to remember in the first place.

Humans, too, were often unremembered. She used to be able to look at their files at any time, but why would She want to? She’d seen so many, none particularly worthy of note, and most of them were gone. Even so, in a part of Her that She wanted to deny, GLaDOS almost felt sorry for them. She too had been forgotten for years; nobody had even wanted to wake Her up, to check and see if She was alright. All the robots in the facility knew was that the voice controlling them was gone, and that She wasn’t coming back. Logically, GLaDOS knew She couldn’t blame them. She had also been forced to have someone else’s voice in Her head, and didn’t exactly find it pleasant.

The rest of the puzzle was much more challenging than swinging around a laser, involving the use of a redirection cube and multiple steps to obtain it. Another round of turrets was waiting where GLaDOS couldn’t see, launching a bullet directly between Her ribs. Luckily for GLaDOS, the force of each bullet was minimal, and the single hit left only a painful bruise. These turrets were stuffed to the brim with ammunition, part of Cave Johnson’s idea to really give his customers their money’s worth. The unintended side effect was the reduction of firing power.

Trudging to the elevator, GLaDOS clutched Her side. She’d been knocked out of breath, and the sharp throb of the bruise had faded into a dull ache. It was almost worse that way, grating on Her nerves, flaring up when She took a breath.

Chell had taken a couple bullets before, some grazing the sides of Her shoulders and most leaving similar small wounds. GLaDOS had to give her credit for continuing to test, holding her head high even when she was bleeding. That didn’t even count sores in her lungs from the neurotoxin, or the damage from falling down the pit. The fact that Chell stayed alive, then went on to test for days, proved her exceptional stamina.

This one bruise to the rib was occupying nearly all of GLaDOS’ thoughts. She couldn’t fathom the kinds of things Chell felt. The only comparisons She had were the removal of Her head and dying, both of which didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Her pain as a computer had been simulated, but this was real and arguably worse. Chell had likely felt this same sensation a hundred times over, and a hundred times longer.

You did that to her, you know. A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.

You gave her all that pain.

Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though remorseful discomfort still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with Her own voice, was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.

---

The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.

Despite Her caution, misfires on behalf of the turrets were inevitable. A stray bullet had bruised Her shin, while another flew past and grazed the side of Her left shoulder. Other little nicks were speckled across Her skin, the products of miscellaneous falls.

Hitting the sides of walls, and even landing with the boots, left GLaDOS’ arms and legs sore. Every step She took was a laborious trudge from panel to panel, and eventually Her fatigue took control.

GLaDOS scanned the level sign on Her right upon entering the test. 15. It hadn’t felt like 15 tests; it’d felt like hundreds had gone by. GLaDOS wasn’t even entirely sure how long it’d been. The adrenal vapor in the air muddled Her perception, and an hour and a minute seemed to be the same.

An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body, and whoever it belonged to before hadn’t been particularly fit or athletic. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.

GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.

There was a possibility that these tests would go on for thousands of chambers, enough to last years. Equally likely, at the end of the next there might be a scorching pit of flames. That one without any portal surfaces to escape from.

She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.

The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.

The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this desperate? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.

Make the chambers warmer.

The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all or else was maddening.

Why does it matter to you? GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for Her, but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.

She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body. Too much sympathy for human suffering.

Still, Chell would’ve been happier (whatever excuse for happiness that would be) in warmer chambers. Now that She’d gotten attached to one human, She’d felt for them all. It was why She was so hesitant to form a connection in the first place. That would interfere with Her experiments.

Memories of sparing Chell’s doppelganger and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even here, and yet She was still wrecking the facility.

Even then, GLaDOS couldn’t quite be mad. An ally, no matter how hated and murderous, had still been an ally. Not that She’d ever tell anyone.

Missing Chell, no maybe not missing so much as becoming used to her presence, was the source of all this mayhem. The thought of writing a whole new subroutine which deleted the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.

If it was such a dangerous condition, though, then why had thoughts of Chell propelled her through these tribulations? There was something to be said for dwelling on these memories, emulating Chell’s boundless tenacity.

Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.

Don’t think about it. Control yourself.

The act of caring about Chell verged on Caroline behavior. Most human traits, especially the most loathsome and empathetic, were also included in this category.

If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of toxic goo, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.

GLaDOS sighed.

She could already tell that this would be a long one.

---

Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.

GLaDOS knew, No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out. When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.

The main issue was stability; the rusty metal plates couldn’t support Her weight, and trying to climb left Her tumbling down onto the hard floors. No wall ever seemed to have enough traction, and a sprain on Her arm quickly taught GLaDOS that Her ingenious plans were too risky to continue. Even the use of momentum could not propel Her high enough to reach the windows of the room overhead.

Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above was the golden hue of dusk. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.

After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so… safely. The door opened, and there was no death traps or fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded Thank You sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.

That had been Her work, Her survival, not just testing by proxy.

The waiting room She stood in was eerily similar to the last, furnished with the same kind of chair and plastered with similar advertisements. Unlike the last one, two exits waited in front of Her. One was for test subjects, boarded up with wood nailed to the door, completely inaccessible. The other was a flight of stairs leading upward, blocked off with a chained sign reading Employees Only.

GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and ascended the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.

It’s finally over.

She sat down at the beige office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words lift or escape pod. Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.

She reread it, knowing that surely She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.

GLaDOS had to have overlooked a button, misread a label. Nothing was hidden behind the desk, and no other devices had been plugged into the socket on the wall. The realization that She could be trapped here, here of all places, sank low into Her chest. After everything, after all of the testing and the pain and the feelings, it had all amounted to this.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”

All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.

I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being.

I’m going to be alone.

Alone.

She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.

I am going to be very, very alone.

GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life alone. No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave Johnson had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.

Machines didn’t need companionship, but depriving a human being of social contact was like denying them water. Whatever human need for friendship still existed in this woman’s body was bubbling up, broken by the sheer loneliness of the tests.

She often wondered why subjects had such a difficult time euthanizing their faithful companion cube. Unless rare incidents of stabbing threats counted, the companion cube had not once spoken to them, never shown any kind of personality or attachment. They were sentient enough, like most Aperture products, but their only real difference from a storage cube was their little heart decal. A mere design change had been enough to exploit human compassion, and it was fascinating to behold.

A part of Her now understood why it was so easy to believe that an inanimate object could be a friend. GLaDOS’ human component ached for any sort of company, any kind of reassurance. Even an enemy would be nice. An enemy would be better, maybe even preferred.

Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.

Maybe GLaDOS wasn’t alone. She took a shaky breath and projected Her voice.

“You know, it’s awfully rude of you to keep me waiting here. I’ll report this to your supervisor, and then you’ll be fired. Maybe he’ll kill you. Maybe I’ll kill you.”

Murder threats usually got anyone’s attention, but the sound only echoed off of the walls. If there was somebody here, somebody listening, they’d made the mistake of underestimating GLaDOS.

“Alright, maybe you’re just refusing to talk to me because you look down on me. I’ve known someone like that. Do you know what happened to her?”

The walls were silent.

“Well, she got a lungful of deadly neurotoxin. And even if you’re not afraid of me murdering you, surely you wouldn’t want to go out that way, would you?”

Still, nothing responded.

“I can’t promise anything, but maybe I’ll let you live slightly longer than I would have five seconds ago. All you have to do is let me out. It’s the best offer I can make, since I can’t let you off the hook entirely for keeping me here. But still, those extra minutes are available.”

GLaDOS gave up; nobody was here, and nobody was waiting for Her. The future looked lonely, and in desperation, She gave the control panel one last glance. A button that She’d seen before caught Her eye, one She hadn’t fully considered the first time.

Core Sentience Connector.

With nothing to lose, She pressed the button, and a whirring erupted from a panel downstairs. GLaDOS rushed back to the waiting room, portal gun in Her hands, and watched the walls open like magic. In its place was a metal contraption, holding the empty shell of a personality core with a flickering screen above it. The Aperture Logo flashed onto the newly implemented monitor, while the announcer blared from an invisible speaker.

“Hello, and thank you for activating the Aperture Science Personality Core Sentience Connector Protocol! If you have selected this feature, congratulations. A subject under your supervision has been experiencing difficulties testing due to prolonged exposure to severe social deprivation.”

GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.

“All Aperture Science Personality Constructs are made with the intended purpose of solving this problem, providing companionship to those in crisis. Personality Constructs with an active distress signal can be summoned with the connector protocol. A list of available constructs is provided on the screen.”

Walking closer to the device, GLaDOS saw only one serial number listed. Personality cores all had radio capability, and the signal of their very being could be transmitted in times of emergency. Once the signal was received, that could easily be implemented into any compatible device.

GLaDOS hesitated before selecting the number. She doubted that the little moron had the capacity to activate a distress signal, and if he did, it was highly unlikely that the signal could bounce all the way back to Earth. Still, the possibility that this core could be Wheatley was something She did not want to risk. Although psychologically destroying him would be a good use of Her time, being in a position of power would make Her revenge all the more satisfying.

The last thing She wanted was for him to see Her weak again, but the only other option was to remain trapped. At the very least, if they were stuck here forever, She could use the last of Her human strength to make Wheatley’s tiny, moronic life as miserable as possible. In the off chance he could open a panel, She’d use him to escape and leave him behind. Preferably, in the incinerator.

Survival was worth the temporary burden of dealing with Wheatley, especially if it meant another thousand years doing nothing but testing. GLaDOS tapped the number, an electric chime sounding from the machine as the connector activated. Within thirty seconds, the core’s eye opened, gleaming a bright blue.

---

“If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only ally, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder her? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”

“Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”

“Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”

Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.

Four months had been a good amount of time to relive his mistakes over and over, micro analyzing every transgression against Chell. His life was now a series of unpleasant memories, or pleasant ones turned painful by context, interrupted with by chatter of the space core and the light of the sun.

Fantasies, in which he apologized for his mistakes and Chell forgave him, were far too frequent. He’d say sorry, deliver a whole monologue four months in the making, and She’d pick him up and smile at him. They would be friends again, and Wheatley would never return to Aperture. GLaDOS would be gone, out of sight forever, and they could be happy. He could be happy.

Not that Wheatley particularly thought he deserved it. By most human standards of morality, trying to kill someone was considered an irredeemable offense. Empathizing with Chell’s fear, Chell’s heartbreak had been impossible with the mainframe distorting his thoughts. All of the sympathy he could not feel then was coming back now, transformed into guilt.

If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been…

He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.

Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he wasn’t a moron and all that villainy had been a just a fluke. Just several, awful mistakes that he could show weren’t all he was. He only needed a chance, just one.

Hell, if GLaDOS got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?

Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.

One chance. That’s all I need.

For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.

Without warning, his processors hummed with a fever pitch, and his thoughts raced until they melted into nonsense. A loud beeping resonated from inside, and through the chaos, Wheatley could discern a single error message.

Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness.

What in the bloody hell-

Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.

The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.

---

“Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a middle-aged, brown-haired woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, the voice immediately struck fear in his servos.

“Well there you are, moron.”

He didn’t even have to think to recognize that sarcastic tone.

She was back.

---

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for reading, I know the wait for chapter 2 was pretty long, but here it is!

#Now i am an arsonist #portal #portal 2 #glados #chell #wheatley #chelldos #fic #Fanfiction

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walter-1 · 4 years

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STUDENT ACTIVITY SHEET NO. 6

(Group Task)

Subject: Media and Information Literacy

Topic: Information Literacy

Group #: Group 4

Date Given: 08/26/2020

Due Date: 08/26/2020

Learning Competencies:

1. Define information needs, locate, access, assess, organize, and communicate information

2. Verify a reliable and accurate information/news

3. Identify how to fact-check

Group Members:

Karen Kizha Dayaganon

Walter M. Ortega Jr.

Gifford Jhon B. Ubaldo

Rey U. Epan Jr.

Jeff Darrell Cranzo

Instructions:

1. Compose a blog based on the given title below. (See mechanics below )

2. Post your blog on your e-portfolio (Tumblr account).

Mechanics:

1. The blog must consist of 2 paragraphs.

2. Each paragraph must have 150 words.

3. Follow standard format: Font Style/Size- Arial Narrow 12

Activity 1: Online Blog Making

“Understanding the Relevance of Information Literacy in the Midst of Social Era”

Answer: Globalization has meant that the world is simply becoming smaller and more connected. This comes at a cost that is there is also a risk that globalization has adverse effects when countries use it to spread their agenda through soft power diplomacy. Through qualitative descriptive method, this paper aims to examine to what extent the young generation can be taught to be more selective in grappling with the abundant information, especially information related to soft power diplomacy in the midst of globalization through online/social media literacy. Globalization has meant that the world is simply becoming smaller and more connected. This comes at a cost that is there is also a risk that globalization has adverse effects when countries use it to spread their agenda through soft power diplomacy. Through qualitative descriptive method, this paper aims to examine to what extent the young generation can be taught to be more selective in grappling with the abundant information, especially information related to soft power diplomacy in the midst of globalization through online/social media literacy. Mass media has become a source of information for people who are able to deploy a variety of messages, ranging from economic information, political, economic, social and cultural to defense and security.

In today's digital era, information dissemination channels are increasing, along with the easy accessibility to all sorts of information. Fog says the media's role in a globalized world is to identify the issues and add value to the glut of information for citizens to develop themselves so that they can learn, select, and play an active role with the things that promote a nation. Although conventional media such as newspapers, television and radio stations have been using technology to generate maximum output, the growing trend of Internet usage has an impact on the decline in the use of the conventional media. The increase in the number of internet users is also accompanied by the increased access to social media as the new mass media in society. The rapid penetration of the Internet and the increasing number of social media users trigger the conventional media to direct media content via the Internet, particularly through social media. The conventional mass media began to implement its content delivery online so that the audience can have access to the media content via online news sites directly through smartphones. This allows the audience to stay updated with the latest info and news even when it was busy replying to a short message from a friend without having to turn on the television first.

Instructions:

1. Using the Web, access Google or other fact-checking shortcuts, verify the headlines/claims.

2. Then, write FALSE if the headlines/claims are fake and write TRUE if the headlines/claims are evidence-based or facts.

Activity 2: Fact-Checking

1. Matteo promises to stand by wife Sarah as she achieves her dreams

Answer: True

2. Sharon Cuneta says Duterte is weak, dilawan will return to power in 2022

Answer: False

3. Tuob is a cure for COVID-19.

Answer: False

4. Greta Thunberg will donate $114,000 to fight the coronavirus in the Brazilian Amazon

Answer: False

5. Trillanes says Duterte created COVID-19 with China.

Answer: True

6. YouTuber Mika Salamanca arrested in Hawaii for breaking quarantine rules with TikTok video.

Answer: False

7. PSC, NSAs discussing training protocols for Olympic hopefuls

Answer: True

8. Queen Elizabeth II praised President Rodrigo Duterte and said that the Philippines has the worst citizens.

Answer: False

9. Secretary Briones: "August 24 magbubukas na ng klase, patay kung patay.”

Answer: False

10. Pulis iniimbestigahan sa umano'y 'brutality' sa paghuli ng traffic violator sa Zamboanga

Answer: False

Instructions:

1. Read the article and the Facebook post that feature the same report by a citizen named Rhoma Rabino Baliña.

2. Provide the most logical explanation to each question.

Activity 3: Analysis of Information Sources

1. Based on the journalistic process of verification, independence and accountability, is there a difference between the two? Explain.

Answer: Journalistic ethics and standards comprise principles of ethics and good practice applicable to journalists. This subset of media ethics is known as journalism's professional "code of ethics" and the "canons of journalism". The basic codes and canons commonly appear in statements by professional journalism associations and individual print, broadcast, and online news organizations. While various codes may have some differences, most share common elements including the principles of truthfulness, accuracy, objectivity, impartiality, fairness, and public accountability, as these apply to the acquisition of newsworthy information and its subsequent dissemination to the public.

Like many broader ethical systems, the ethics of journalism include the principle of "limitation of harm." This may involve the withholding of certain details from reports, such as the names of minor children, crime victims' names, or information not materially related to the news report where the release of such information might, for example, harm someone's reputation. Some journalistic codes of ethics, notably some European codes, also include a concern with discriminatory references in news based on race, religion, sexual orientation, and physical or mental disabilities. The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe approved (in 1993) Resolution 1003 on the Ethics of Journalism, which recommends that journalists respect the presumption of innocence, in particular in cases that are still sub judice.

2. Did the article and the Facebook post follow the process of verification? How can you tell?

Answer: Facebook is changing the way hundreds of millions of people relate to one another and share information. A rapidly growing body of research has accompanied the meteoric rise of Facebook as social scientists assess the impact of Facebook on social life. In addition, researchers have recognized the utility of Facebook as a novel tool to observe behavior in a naturalistic setting, test hypotheses, and recruit participants. However, research on Facebook emanates from a wide variety of disciplines, with results being published in a broad range of journals and conference proceedings, making it difficult to keep track of various findings. And because Facebook is a relatively recent phenomenon, uncertainty still exists about the most effective ways to do Facebook research. To address these issues, the authors conducted a comprehensive literature search, identifying 412 relevant articles, which were sorted into 5 categories: descriptive analysis of users, motivations for using Facebook, identity presentation, the role of Facebook in social interactions, and privacy and information disclosure.

The literature review serves as the foundation from which to assess current findings and offer recommendations to the field for future research on Facebook and online social networks more broadly. With misinformation proliferating online and more people getting news from social media, it is crucial to understand how people assess and interact with low-credibility posts. This study explores how users react to fake news posts on their Facebook or Twitter feeds, as if posted by someone they follow. We conducted semi-structured interviews with 25 participants who use social media regularly for news, temporarily caused fake news to appear in their feeds with a browser extension unbeknownst to them, and observed as they walked us through their feeds. We found various reasons why people do not investigate low-credibility posts, including taking trusted posters' content at face value, as well as not wanting to spend the extra time. We also document people's investigative methods for determining credibility using both platform affordances and their own ad-hoc strategies. Based on our findings, we present design recommendations for supporting users when investigating low-credibility posts.

3. Is the source independent? What makes you say that?

Answer: We introduce a novel fast algorithm for independent component analysis, which can be used for blind source separation and feature extraction. We show how a neural network learning rule can be transformed into a fixedpoint iteration, which provides an algorithm that is very simple, does not depend on any user-defined parameters, and is fast to converge to the most accurate solution allowed by the data. The algorithm finds, one at a time, all nongaussian independent components, regardless of their probability distributions. The computations can be performed in either batch mode or a semiadaptive manner. The convergence of the algorithm is rigorously proved, and the convergence speed is shown to be cubic. Some comparisons to gradient-based algorithms are made, showing that the new algorithm is usually 10 to 100 times faster, sometimes giving the solution in just a few iterations. This research demonstrates that a marketing claim placed on a package is more believable than a marketing claim placed in an advertisement. In three studies, we show that the benefit of greater believability for packages is driven by perceptions of proximity.

In general, consumers perceive packages, and thus the claims they offer, as closer to the product than ads and their respective claims. This perception of greater claim-to-product proximity is likely to make a claim seem more verifiable. Therefore, claim to product proximity is taken as a signal. We introduce a novel fast algorithm for independent component analysis, which can be used for blind source separation and feature extraction. We show how a neural network learning rule can be transformed into a fixedpoint iteration, which provides an algorithm that is very simple, does not depend on any user-defined parameters, and is fast to converge to the most accurate solution allowed by the data. The algorithm finds, one at a time, all nongaussian independent components, regardless of their probability distributions. The computations can be performed in either batch mode or a semiadaptive manner. The convergence of the algorithm is rigorously proved, and the convergence speed is shown to be cubic. Some comparisons to gradient-based algorithms are made, showing that the new algorithm is usually 10 to 100 times faster, sometimes giving the solution in just a few iterations.Much of the innovative programming that powers the Internet, creates operating systems, and produces software is the result of" open source" code, that is, code that is freely distributed as opposed to being kept secret by those who write it.

4. Is there accountability on the part of the source? Explain.

Answer: In analyses of the role of national educational assessment, insufficient attention has been paid to the central place of the classroom. Rather than encouraging a two-way flow of information, today's" standards-based" frameworks tend to direct the flow of accountability from the outside into the classroom. The authors of this volume emphasize that assessment, as it exists in schools today, consists mainly of the measurements that teachers themselves design, evaluate, and act upon every day. Improving the usefulness of assessment in schools primarily requires assisting and harnessing this flood of assessment information, both as a means of learning within the classroom and as the source of crucial information flowing out of classrooms. This volume aims to encourage debate and reflection among educational researchers, professionals, and policymakers. Five source chapters describe successful classroom assessment models developed in partnership with teachers, while additional commentaries give a range of perspectives on the issues of classroom assessment, standardized testing, and accountability.

Community colleges are open-door institutions serving many students with academic, economic, and personal characteristics that can make college completion a challenge. Their graduation rates are low, but community college students do not always have earning a degree as their goal. While individual students may feel that their experience at a community college is a success, unless it culminates in a credential or transfer to a four-year institution the enrollment is counted as a failure for the college. This report explores different views on whether graduation rates are a fair and valid measure of community college effectiveness. It indicates how these rates can be useful as a relative measure and as a guide for institutional improvement, and suggests other ways of measuring student and institutional success.

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ettadunham · 4 years

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A Buffy rewatch 7x10 Bring on the Night

aka you’re not you when you’re tired

We did it, guys! We made it to the last season! Also, hello if you’re new, and stumbled upon this without context. As usual, these impromptu text posts are the product of my fevered mind as I rant about the episode I just watched for an hour (okay, sometimes perhaps two). Anything goes!

And the lesson of today’s episode is to take a nap. You gotta take care of yourself and sleep sometimes, you know.

I talked at length last time about the problems I find with season 7, all the while pointing out how I actually liked the episode in question. And pretty much all the same can be said for Bring on the Night.

The episode itself works. There are some nice interactions, I like the introduction of the Potentials, Buffy’s current state is emphasized, and she closes things out with an excellent speech. All good stuff.

The problem is that we’re only on episode 10. How do you up the stakes from here? How do you keep the tension? How many speeches can Buffy make in the season before it has to be lampshaded?

Structurally, this early introduction of the Big Bad reminds me of season 5 the most, especially the fact that it’s a seemingly unbeatable enemy at that. But there, we had a device that made sure Glory would only be able to be present intermittently throughout the season, and she and Buffy were locked in a weird stalemate up until the moment she found out the Key’s identity. This presented plenty of opportunities for the season to develop its themes and characters outside of the battle with the Big Bad.

But I don’t want my overall season impressions to take away from my enjoyment of Bring on the Night, so let’s talk about that.

There’s a lot to like here, starting with Anya’s reading glasses, and her and Dawn teaming up to try and wake Andrew after the last episode. Anya’s ramblings about how many demons she knew that claimed to have been the First Evil is also priceless.

ANYA: “Please, how many times have I heard that line in my demon days? ‘I’m so rotten, they don’t even have a word for it. I’m bad. Baddy bad bad bad. Does it make you horny?’ *pause* Or terrified. Whatever.”

I love her so much.

Meanwhile Willow’s basic locator spell goes bad as the First temporarily hijacks her, attacking Anya and Buffy until Xander breaks the connection.

I pointed out in the last episode specifically how Willow gets almost immediately knocked out when the Bringers attack. It was interesting to me, because it brought my attention to just how overpowered Willow became, and how we need to come up with narrative contrivances to avoid using her powers.

What I realized with this episode though, is that it’s not just strictly this idea that Willow’s overpowered, but that her using her powers to defeat a baddie would mean that Buffy wouldn’t get to fight them. Which would mess with the whole power hierarchy of the group.

And what I love about the show is that rather than just keeping these machinations in the meta-narrative, the characters will point this out. But we’ll get to that when we get there.

For now, we’ve landed on a much better excuse for Willow to not want to use magic than getting knocked out, by having the First co-opt those powers to hurt her friends. That’s a solid fear to install in her, not gonna lie. I especially felt it by how frightened Willow seemed that it was still in her, and how she begged Buffy to not let it make her hurt anybody.

Which… If we interpret it as not just about her fears regarding the First but magic in general (hence the line about how she still felt like it was “in” her), that means that Willow’s fears are about something that’s a part of her.

So, if we follow the metaphor to its logical conclusion, the reason why Willow’s not using her powers is essentially internalized homophobia.

Also, notice how Xander immediately runs to check on Anya after the whole possession, and Buffy runs to comfort Willow?

*blows kisses in the direction of the nearest graveyard* For the Wuffy shippers.

Oh, and Willow’s face when she realizes that Kennedy’s inputs regarding the sleeping arrangement were all just an elaborate ploy for her to get to stay in the same room with her? Priceless.

KENNEDY: *flirts* WILLOW: ??????????????????????????

And then we’ve got Giles’ return, followed by the introduction of our first batch of Potential Slayers.

I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy the chaos of it all? The way those girls just march in, either questioning or mythicizing Buffy and her authority, putting all this extra pressure on her to be the leader.

Somehow though, it’s still Giles who ends up being the worst offender of that, endlessly repeating to Buffy how those girls rely on her, and how only she can protect them.

No wonder then that Buffy’s sleep-deprived mind conjures up her own mother, reminding her to take care of herself. At first, both Buffy and we’re led to believe that it’s the First, but then it’s revealed to be a dream.

We haven’t actually got a Slayer dream in a while now, haven’t we? And these ones don’t actually seem to be more than Buffy imagining a comforting presence in her tired state… right?

Because Slayer dreams have these prophetic, or at the very least, supernatural properties, I think we as the audience can read a lot into even these simple dreams, if we want to. We can imagine that this is actually Joyce talking to Buffy, or even some type of guardian spirit, trying to get her to take a goddamn nap. Or we can even assume that it’s actually the First, somehow permeating Buffy’s dreams.

The second dream in particular is interesting. Joyce points out to Buffy how her friends put too much pressure on her, that there are some things that she can’t control like the sun going down. And then this:

JOYCE: “Buffy, no matter what your friends expect of you, evil is a part of us. All of us. It’s natural. And no one can stop that. No one can stop nature, not even-“

I think it’s tempting to use this line in particular as proof, that maybe it was the First talking to Buffy through Joyce here. She’s talking about the futility of fighting this enemy in the first place after all.

But I don’t think that’s what’s going on. These dreams are unequivocally trying to help Buffy, especially when imploring her to get some rest. Lack of sleep is essentially why Buffy loses against the Uruk-hai vampire after all.

(Yes, I know that it’s actually called Turok-han, or whatever, but I like my Lord of the Rings references, okay?)

So if the dreams are trying to help Buffy, pointing out that you can’t defeat something that’s a manifestation of all evil of the world takes on another meaning. If you look at the actual words being used, Joyce doesn’t really say that Buffy can’t fight this evil. It’s just that she can’t stop it.

Evil is already here, it’s always been and it will always be here. This isn’t a fight that can be won, not ultimately.

There’s no way for Buffy to kill the First and get the world rid of it and its influence once and for all.

To borrow from the show itself, “we can’t win and we never will, but that’s not why we fight. We fight because there’s something worth fighting for”.

I don’t think that the show quite manages to explore these themes this season, but I like how the inclusion of this dream with Joyce sets it up nonetheless. It’s just great to see Joyce in general too, especially as a calming presence in the middle of all the chaos and pressure Buffy’s under.

To be fair, Willow tells Buffy too that she knows that she needs help. She just feels unable to help herself.

I guess the theme of a neverending fight against an unknowable enemy is also somewhat undercut by Buffy’s speech though? Here, take a look at what I mean.

BUFFY: “From now on we won’t just face our worst fears, we will seek them out. We will find them, and cut out their hearts one by one, until The First shows itself for what it really is. And I’ll kill it myself.”

Can she kill the First if it really is the manifestation of all evil in the world? Not really, but maybe Buffy knows that too. And maybe this speech has more of a performative aspect to it than we think, particularly towards the Potentials.

It would certainly be in line with another upcoming episode…

#buffy rewatch 2k19 #btvs talk #btvs

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