fragmenting the body

Drawing the legs.

See how the upper and the lower leg curve and how they relate. Front and side view are male, the right one is female (1st & 2nd row). If you bend the leg, it helps to mark the direction of the cylinders (away or in your direction) with curved lines. When I do that, I get a better feeling of how the leg actually is placed in 3D space. The trousers show that you might not need all the muscles and details for your drawings – but to know how it works inside helps to find the correct shapes anyway.

The Data Theory

This theory was originally developed by derekscorner and revised last night. I delve into the theory a little bit myself and came up with something pretty incredible. Again, most of this theory is in credit to derekscorner. All I’ve done is branch it out a little more. You can read the original post along with what I came up with here.

Kingdom Hearts is never entirely clear on how it’s universe works. The only trustworthy information you can get is spoken by characters in cut scenes, usually rather vague and said with symbolism, or it’s hidden somewhere in the “Reports” you recover throughout all of the games.

Because of this, the game can constantly flex it’s rules to bring about more scenarios and fix discrepancies it might have had in the past. But assuming, with the release 1.5+2.5 for the PS4, all of those discrepancies were fixed and the game is official, theories about this game will now become all the more relevant. And sensible.

Most things in Kingdom Hearts can be explained away in a rather convoluted essay. However, there are still select few scenarios that fans can’t seem to tackle because it wouldn’t make sense for how the game’s universe operates. One of these leading scenarios is the issue of bringing the lost Nobodies back into existence. I’m talking about Roxas, Naminé, and Xion.

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Aquarius Risings 🌩

Those with Aquarius on the Ascendant have received binoculars at birth. Being blessed by both Saturn and Uranus, this individual appears to be able to see future tendencies and things no one else can. Visionaries, they present themselves as intelligent and witty; the intelectual curiosity is focused on the mechanical aspect of things, giving structure and discipline to Gemini’s inconsistent mental enthusiasm.

Aquarius Risings hardly ever appear to be surprised or affected; they’ve seen it all, and don’t really care for frivolities or emotional sensitivies. Their idea of themselves as individuals is bound to reason, logic and realistic values. They project themselves as impersonal and ingenious, distinct from everyone else, and this may mean they’re always changing their physical appearance in some way. As humanity’s water-bearers, they offer us brand new ways to see the world with unexpected thoughts and social concepts, as if we could use their shiny ideals to transform structures of the actual world.

Aquarius’ famous for being popular and having many friends, but actually it is purely an energy of social engagement that enjoys being in touch with large groups of people. However, these relationships are not emotionally deep and to some point are devoid of intimacy. Thus, the Aquarius Rising excels at shifting from group to group, nurturing a wide web (pun intended) of contacts and communicating with lots of people, but is alone at the end of the day.

All things touched by Aquarius’ electrical blue waters eventually transform rather radically, encompassing Aquarius Risings’ own rhythm of transformation of the self. Being informed of how things and reality itself work is essential.

Uranus/1st house: a scholar contemplates their city from an observatory; there are so many things to change… Transformation of the outside world comes through revolutions in one’s own identity. This is someone who feels different from everyone else and projects themselves clearly as such. Changing the world is a mission favoured by one’s strong force of will.

Uranus/2nd house: an engineer visits their project under construction; many kinds of people work at a time. Uranus’ sparkling energy strikes the ground firmly, energizing it. Much value for one’s personal ideals and intelectual achievements, maybe to the point of holding grudges and being too stubborn. It is important to be flexible and creative in one’s path, changing whenever needed. Possible radical shifts in one’s financial situations if this energy is not dealt with in a healthy manner.

Uranus/3rd house: a sunny sky is suddenly covered in black layers of clouds; the sun is covered. Swift and flexible, this Uranus seems to be ready for anything. This is someone whose faith in their ideals charms everyone around. So much unstable energy may manifest in one’s life as shifting conditions in one’s education and home life.

Uranus/4th house: a sailor drifts slowly on the sea, no ground on sight; their original home is now only a sad memory. Radical emotional transformations manifested through a radical soul or an unique family structure left in the past. Thus, this is an individual who probably accepts people’s differences and excels at taking care of marginalized groups through social projects and attitudes.

Uranus/5th house: on an old dark alley, a spy is able to drastically change their appearance at an eye’s blink. It’s easy to absorb other people’s identity into one’s own, producing a rather unstable and ever-changing personality. Popularity, creativity and romance are all favoured. This is someone who has the ability to step into other people’s universes and experience life as if they were in other people’s shoes.

Uranus/6th house: a famous detective is being searched all around the world for their mystery-solving abilities. One’s able to help other people when putting to use their dynamic and unexpected life habits. Radical transformation occurs through changing what’s at the base level. One’s health varies greatly depending on emotional conditions. Originality in one’s work and in one’s routines.

Uranus/7th house: a transfer student arrives at their new classroom; they look around, maybe for friendly people to befriend. One’s constantly in search for many kinds of partnerships. Being creative and changing the world around depends on other people’s approval and involvement. Dynamic relationships. This is someone who’s very popular and has many types of groups of friends.

Uranus/8th house: a rather serious foreigner stands out in a party; they’re alone and seem to like keeping it that way. A most distinct individual using their ability to penetrate and solve mysteries to serve humanity. One’s able to translate complex information, making other people’s lives easier.

Uranus/9th house: a visitor contemplates a painting hanging out in a famous museum for many hours; where is their mind?… Demonstrating one’s knowledge and one’s interest in all kinds of information is essential. This is someone valued for their ability to comprehend complex concepts dealing with equality and justice and for actually puting them to use in one’s daily life or career. One’s able to see all sides of the matter at hand.

Uranus/10th house: a tiny phoenix rises proudly from its ashes; fragments of its ancient body are still scattered around, but it feels no pain. The world is perceived in a quite unique and wide manner. This is someone who undergoes profound and intense transformations in their lives; all problems involving such transformations are projected outwards with courage and bravery to expose one’s crisis and toils. People instantly perceive this individual’s powerful personality. A dynamic career. Freedom is much appreciated in one’s work environment specially.

Uranus/11th house: a lightning strike hits the waters of the sea; the sparkling current is spread everywhere. Dealing with large groups of people and big projects as much as with foreign countries, history and cultures. All these things are exciting and essential for this Uranus. This is someone who probably knows many different people and has a wide range of contacts. Dreamlike and dynamic ideals and concepts.

Uranus/12th house: from an open book in an forgotten library, a conjurer is able to produce magical figures to help them on their quest. One’s able to materialize other people’s dreams through technology and knowledge, utilizing one’s sensitivity and artistic abilities. The capability to perceive subtle waves of emotions and divine information “in the air”. One may feel there are invisible fingers pulling the strings of their lives.

I hope it helps in some way ✨

The Encounter - A Fatal Error fanfic

So I had an idea for a story! I apologize in advance.)


*You pet the dog. Petting capacity is at 50%.

Greater Dog’s tail wagged at incredible speed as Frisk rubbed his belly. It seemed like they couldn’t stop just yet, unless they wanted to hear his incessant whining. Not that that was a problem, of course. Frisk was more than happy to indulge the small dog.

Eventually, Greater Dog yipoed and placed his paw on their hands. It seemed like he wanted them to stop. Frisk complied, then the dog stood back up and hopped into his empty armor headfirst. His tail stuck out from the top as he left the area. Frisk giggled at how goofy it looked. They wiped off the snow from their shorts and started heading back to Snowdin.

As they walked, Frisk admired the sight of all the snowflakes falling from the sky. The trees swayed somehow in a nonexistant breeze, and the occasional passerby would greet them. Even monsters that didn’t recognize Frisk were so nice. Everything about this was just so…peaceful. They hoped it would only get better from here on out…


Frisk jumped, startled by the sudden sound. They looked down and saw no twigs underneath their feet, so why…?

Frisk curved their lips. …It’s probably just Sans. But…why doesn’t he just come out?

“Hello?” Frisk called out. “Is anyone there?”


Frisk squinted their (already tiny) eyes. They could make out some sort of figure, huddled up behind the trees further up ahead.

…But the twig was behind them. How could he have done that?

Frisk didn’t understand much about the Underground yet. Maybe, if they just walked up to him….he could explain?

Frisk took a deep breath, then began to approach who they believed to be the short, pun-loving skeleton. As they got closer, however…he obscured himself just a little more.

But why? Was he afraid of them?

…No, he couldn’t be… Frisk thought. He was the first person I met after I left the Ruins…


Frisk picked up speed. The figure reacted frantically to their approach, making a few shuffling noises in the snow. It wasn’t until Frisk entered the forest that they got a much better view.

…What they saw in front of them, they hadn’t expected at all.

It was Sans, or…it wasn’t? Frisk couldn’t tell. His jacket had been bleached of all color, and several specks of…something surrounded his body. They resembled glitches, and some of the pieces were even detached from his own body. It ended up looking like fragments of his body were missing, or simply floating around him.

But what bothered Frisk the most were his eyes and chest. His eye sockets had no lights in them, and were instead mismatched in shape and color. One was blue (and they swore they could see words inside of it), while the other was bright red and…half-melted. It was uncomfortable to look at those seemingly empty eyes…

…And on Sans’ chest, there was a wide, ghastly cut, extending diagonally across his belly to nearly the top of his shirt. The strange words in his eyes were unmistakably there as well, and his slippers were stained with what looked like blood.

Seeing the cut made Frisk a bit queasy. What could’ve happened to this poor skeleton?

“…Sans?” Frisk whispered, their voice quivering. The skeleton, who hadn’t seemed entirely focused on them before, lifted his head at the mention of the name.

“… yyyou… you aare…”

Frisk winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded so distorted, so broken that they could hardly understand it. And yet…they still could.

…This was all very strange.

“…Frisk,” they replied. “I’m Frisk. We met earlier…didn’t we?”

“…. Dddin’t we?” he mimicked. Frisk was a bit unnerved by that, but they didn’t want to just leave him like this.

“…You aren’t the same skeleton I met. Are you?”

‘Sans’ tilted his head, contemplating the question. Eventually, he shook his head.

“…I see.” Frisk scratched their head, then stared at him hesitantly.

“Then who are you?”

Frisk watched as he reached up for his scarf and clung to it tightly.

“. .. Nnoo one. Jusst passing throughh.”

It was the most coherent sentence they had heard from him so far. Frisk prepared themselves mentally to ask something else.

“…What happened to you?”

The skeleton’s head lowered a little. His grip tightened on the scarf.

“sssomething i lost important to me i lost him”


“nnot here gone why he’s nnot here”

“I-I don’t under-”

“bbbrotherr find him i can’t i can’t WHHERE IS HHE-”


He stopped. He turned his head towards Frisk, who looked a little bit afraid.

“Please, slow down. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

The skeleton shut his eyes and rubbed his arm. He suddenly felt something warm touching him. He opened one eye and saw it was Frisk, looking up at him with concern.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

He abruptly sat down in the snow, shaking his head vigorously. Frisk felt their heart clench at how miserable and lost the skeleton looked.

“…Okay. Can I sit with you, then?”

He shrugged. Frisk took it as a yes, or that he at least didn’t seem to mind. They sat down next to the skeleton and said nothing for a while.

Frisk and the strange skeleton just watched the snow fall.

After a while, Frisk turned their head towards the skeleton.

“…I should probably get going. I can’t stay here forever.”

They smiled, and patted his shoulder. Frisk didn’t know if he liked hugs.

“It was nice to meet you.” Frisk stood up and began to walk towards the end of the forest.

“…… .pppap…yrus……

Frisk paused midstep, then turned around.

”…What was that?“

He twiddled his fingers anxiously and grinned.

”.. . papyyrus. Myy brotherr.… “

Frisk’s mouth opened a little in surprise. ”…Papyrus? So wait…you ARE Sans?“

”…mmyyy papyrruss isss missing lost he’s not gone.. .“

Frisk shook her head. ”…I still don’t understand you. Where is he?“

He clenched his hands into fists. His grin slowly turned into a grimace. ”. …goonneee… . .“

They rubbed their head and looked down, realizing what Sans meant by that single word.

”…Oh. I’m really sorry…“

Frisk was about to say something else when they were cut off abruptly. They couldn’t speak or breath properly all of a sudden. They noticed that several red strings had appeared out of nowhere, and most were wrapped tightly around their body. Trembling, they looked over at the skeleton.

He was grinning again, but it seemed far more sinister than before. Frisk could see tears in his eyes.

“B E C A U S E O F Y O U .”

Xedra’s Notes:

Originally posted by cratermania


I really like your writing style, and your characterization of Fatal! And I really REALLY like how you wrote his dialogue! It was so spot on :’D

The Description Of Death At Columbine

The Columbine Effect > Victim #1 LAUREN TOWNSEND. TABLE 1.

#1 Was found lying on her left side , bent at the waist , head to the north ,feet to the east ,under the northwest corner of the table. She was dressed in a blue top , denim pants and dark boots. Multiple bullet holes were noted in the back of the shirt. Bloodstains associated with the upper two holes were consistent with drainage of blood was present under the left arm. A linear blood drainage stain was present in the rectal area. Bullet holes were present in the right thigh area with surrounding blood drainage stains consistent with the position of the body as found. Transfer bloodstains were present on the lower legs and on the sides and bottom of the boots. These bloodstains were not associated with injuries to the victim. Bloodstains on the carpet indicated that the legs of the victim were moved to the east through wet bloodstains to their position as found. The position of Table 2 and the surrounding chairs were marked on the carpet and then moved to view the body. Additional bullet holes were noted in the front crotch area when the body was moved. LAUREN TOWNSEND WAS AN INNOCENT CHILD.


#2 Was found lying on the floor in a prone position to the southeast of Table 2. She was dressed in a black shirt , denim pants and black/white tennis shoes. An entry wound consistent with a shotgun discharge was present in the lower left back of the body. The plastic shotgun cup/wad was present in the wound tract. Several associated pellet holes were present adjacent to the main entry wound. Drainage of blood from the wound was minimal and consistent with the position of the body as found. Drainage of blood from the nose/mouth area was consistent with the position of the body as found. No other bloodstains were present on the body. A single shotgun blast entered the lower left back ,traveled straight upward ,and the pellets were contained in the upper left back area. The acute angle of travel through the body indicated that the victim was in a prone or near prone position when shot.


#3 Was found lying on the floor in a prone position to the southeast of Table 6. He was dressed in a dark T-shirt , denim pants , and white/black tennis shoes. Three projectiles had entered the right side of the head/neck area and exited the left side. Numerous wood fragments and pieces of foam padding were dispersed in the area of the body. Drainage of blood from the right side of the head was consistent with the position of the body as found. A large pool of blood was present on the carpet extending to the west of the victim’s head area and under the victim’s chest and right arm. The victim’s eyeglasses were present under the lower portion of the face. No bloodstains were noted on the pants or shoes of the victim. No impact blood spatter was noted in the area.


#4 Was found lying on the floor in a prone position to the west of table 14. He was dressed in a grey shirt , denim pants ,and brown leather boots. A large concentrated bloodstain consistent with drainage from the rear of the neck and the upper chest was found under the body. This pooling of blood continued onto the carpet to the west of the body. A large concentrated transfer bloodstain was present on the lower back area of the clothing and body. No wounds were present in this area of the body. A single bullet entered the left arm ,continued through and entered the left chest ,and exited the back of the neck. A second single bullet entered the upper back leaving an atypical entrance hole and lodged in the left chest. A third single bullet entered the back and lodged in the left chest. The bloodstain originated on the exterior of the outer shirt , soaked through the thermal undershirt and onto the skin of the victim. A strap from the victim’s backpack was present under the left arm of the victim and the backpack was found to the west of the body. The bottom of the backpack was heavily blood soaked. No corresponding stain was present on the carpet under the position of the backpack as found. A pattern in the pooled blood to the west of the body was consistent with the size and shape of the backpack bottom. The bloodstain patterns were consistent with the backpack initially lying in the pool of blood of the victim ; and then moved to the floor to the west of the body.

Last edited by rik75 on Tue Dec 03, 2013 7:48 pm; edited 4 times in total
on Tue Nov 19, 2013 11:37 am
by rik75

#5 Was lying found lying on his right side under Table 9 in the middle section. He was dressed in a tan shirt , denim pants and black/gray tennis shoes. His right arm extended to the south and the wrist area was positioned on top of the right rear stile of chair 9E. The chair was found lying on its back to the south of the victim. An injury to the fingers of the right hand was and a small pool of blood of dripped blood was found under the position of the hand. A concentrated pool of blood was present under the head ,neck and shoulder area of the victim. Eyeglasses were found under the head of the victin ,partially on the upper face. Chair 9E had a bullet path through the chair , entry in the seat cushion and exit in the front upper wooden rail. Wood fragments were dispersed over the body. A number of wood fragments were embedded into the right forearm of the victim. An injury to the right ear was noted upon repositioning of the body prior to transport. Three projectiles had entered the right side of the head/neck area and exited the left side. Additional injuries to the torso were consistent with shotgun pellets. The fatal injury was a single bullet that entered the nose and exited the back.

Daniel Mauser was an Innocent Child


#6 Was on his back under Table 16 against the north table leg or support. His right leg was extended to the west and his left leg under his right thigh. Possible Burns were seen on his left hand , the center and right side of his gray , long sleeved shirt and two dark areas on his blue jeans. He was wearing white athletic shoes , white socks , and a ball cap with the letter “ M ”. His head was towards the east. Blood was on his face and the left shoulder of his shirt. A hole was in the left front shoulder of the shirt. His right hand held some type of writing instrument. KECHTER suffered a gunshot wound to the chest ,with a left -to- right trajectory with possible wadding in the right lung. He also suffered burning from an unknown incendiary ( explosive or flammable ) device.

Matthew Kechter was an innocent child Victim #7 ISAIAH SHOELS. TABLE 16.

#7 A black male ,was to the south of ,and slightly under , KECHTER. He was generally facedown with the left side of his chest slightly above the floor. His legs were extended generally to the west. SHOELS head was towards the west. He suffered a gunshot wound perforating the left arm ,entering the left chest ,and exiting below the right armpit. Two pieces of wadding were found in the right arm of his shirt and a possible shotgun slug between his two shirts.

Isaiah Shoels was an Innocent Child


#8 A white male , was seated on the floor leg area of computer station number LMC 17. This station was at the west end of the south side of the south row of computer stations. His back was against the west panel with his right leg partially bent under his left leg , which was also partially bent. His arms were crossed at the wrists and in his lap. He was wearing a short sleeve blue shirt , blue jeans ,white socks and brown and black boots. He suffered a tangential wound to his right shoulder and a perforating wound entering on the right side of the neck and exiting on the left.

Steven Curnow was An Innocent Child


#9 A white female was found under Table 19. Her shoulders were against the west side of the table ,her head tilted to the north ,and her legs extended to the east. She was wearing a green short sleeve shirt over a black shirt ,light blue jeans ,white socks and black boots. She suffered a defensive wound to the right middle finger. There was blood on the right side of her face , her right hand ,and the right and center portions of her clothing. An apparent contact or near contact wound was visible on the back of the right hand. Another wound was visible on the right side of the head.

Cassie Bernall was An Innocent Child


#10 A white or Hispanic male was on the floor in front of the south side of the north bank of computer station 7. He was on his right side , head facing southwest ,with his left leg extended south and bent at the hip and his right leg bent under the left. His left arm was under him and his right arm partially under his head. He was wearing a blue and green coat over a white shirt ,black pants and black athletic shoes. Three pellets had entered his right shoulder and exited the lower back. He had a head wound with seven holes and a shot cup in his head.

Kyle V was An Innocent Child


#11 A white male ,was on his back with his head pointing east. His legs were bent at the hip with his knees towards the north and his lower legs pointing west. His left arm was across his stomach with a fingerless black glove on his left hand. His right arm was extended by his side and his right hand was around the grip of the TEC-9 pistol. Gray tape , holding two match strikers to the inside of the forearm ,was around his right wrist. He was wearing a black T-shirt with the word “ Wrath ” in red on the front ,black cargo pants , black boots and white socks. A large knife was on the left side of his belt. His face was bloodstained and a pool of blood was on the carpet under his head. Ammunition on his body included 14 rounds of 2 ¾". Federal shotgun shells in an ammunition belt around his waist ;in a bandoleer were 19 rounds of Federal 00 buck shells ;numerous live shotgun shells in a pouch in a pants pocket. There was a near contact wound to the left temple with a corresponding exit wound through the right temple. He also aspirated blood. He could have been capable of some involuntary movement. A pool of blood on the carpet to the north ,east and south of KLEBOLD’S(#11) head ,as well as to the west under his left shoulder. There was a bloodstain on the area on the back of his left arm above the elbow that was not consistent with being formed with the arm in the position found. In addition , some of the blood flows on the face were also formed with the head in a position other than found. These flows were consistent with KLEBOLD’s head resting on the right side of the face to allow the blood flow on the left side out of the wound. There were bloodstains on his right bicep and left center portion of the neck. The underside of the bill of the ball cap to the north of KLEBOLD appeared to be blood-soaked. This cap was in close proximity to the bloodstained area of the left knee of the pants worn by HARRIS.

No longer Innocent but was a victim of bullying and fell to depression and suicidal thoughts and Child who lost his place in the world

Body #11. ERIC HARRIS.

A white male was to the north of KLEBOLD. The upper back was leaning against the bottom shelf of the west side of Row 6 with his head pointed south. His skull was open at the top and the shelves behind ( to the east ) of him and the ceiling above him and the carpet below him were bloodstained. The heaviest areas of blood staining above the floor level were on the bookshelves to the east ( which his body was resting against ) were in line with his waist and legs and above his body. The stains on the ceiling and shelves were consistent with HARRIS receiving the gunshot wound to the head while he was in a seated position. At least two indentations were found on the underside of the metal shelves above and slightly north of the position of HARRIS hips and legs. The physical evidence was consistent with HARRIS’ torso generally facing west with his buttocks on or near the floor and his back near or resting against the west end of bookshelf Row 6. His head and upper torso moved to the south or left. His arms were by his chest with his forearms and hands angled up towards his face. He had a fingerless black glove on his right hand , which was next to a green pouch with shot shells. His legs were somewhat extended to the west. He was wearing a white T-shirt , black pants with a green ammunition belt , black boot and a knife strapped to his right leg. He had an ammunition pouch in his left cargo pants pocket. That pouch contained 10 rounds of Winchester 12 gauge shotgun shells ,each shell labeled as containing 15 pellets of 00 buck. Two single-column magazines with 9 mm rounds were in a pants pocket. A black ball cap with the letter “B” was between HARRIS’s left leg and KLEBOLD’s head. HARRIS had a shotgun wound to his head with the muzzle in his mouth. Bleeding was observed through his nose. At this time skull fragments from HARRIS ,some with circular holes through them were collected. When the body of HARRIS was being moved into the body bag , a mass of blood fell out of the open skull and landed on the carpet where KLEBOLD’s body had been. No longer Innocent but was a victim of bullying and fell to depression and suicidal thoughts and Child who lost his place in the world The events that unfolded at Columbine High School on April 20 1999 were tragic and very sad but we all have to learn that you can’t treat people any kind of way and not expect them to just continue and let it happen it’s not right and it’s sad that it took something like this to happen for them to realize it but those teachers knew Eric and Dylan were getting bullied they didn’t say anything because they saw them as weird and outcasts because of how they dressed and the fact that they were not on a sports team everyone knows the jocks ruled the school.And on the other hand Eric and Dylan did not have to kill those kids they could have just damaged the school Last note. This is what caused Columbine The Jocks bullied E/D the teachers/staff did nothing about it the other kids didn’t help them defend them so that caused them to hate the school then the people who attended and the worser their depression they began to hate the world. When they tried to be normal/themselves people made them feel powerless and no one wants to be powerless so what do you do you make yourself strong and they felt that their revenge would make them strong and being strong meant weapons. They went to that school and let out all the hell they endured that’s why people said they were laughing as they were killing people. They were doing this because it was a I have the power now type of situation. They wanted to make them feel what they felt they wanted them to feel the nothingness just like them. E/D felt they weren’t worth anything so they had no problem with death but it doesn’t have to be that way never let people mistreat you and be kind to others and stand up and always do the right thing. (TheColumbineEffect) R.I.P April 20 1999

(Show me your broken heart and I’ll take you as you are)

100+ Kink Challenge #1

Kink #89: Quickies

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 519

Warnings: NSFW, Unsafe Sex, 

Requested by anonymous. You asked for it. And Gabriel’s going to give it to ya.

Check out the other darling, kinky, wordy chickies that are abusing themselves with this much smut. @formidablepassion, @helvonasche,  @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, and @when-the-day–met-the-night

Here’s the post if you would like to request. 100+ Kink Challenge

Originally posted by richardspeightjriii

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Author’s Note: this is part of the @kpoptrashnetwork welcome gift. i was paired with my dear, dear friend @the-porcelain-doll-xo, whom i’ve only known for a short time but admire completely. <3

Summary: A snapshot of your relationship with Bang Yongguk after you see him at a wedding

Genre: fluff; very light angst

Pairing: Yongguk x Reader (oc; ambiguous gender) (i wrote this with yongguk in mind, however his name is never said. so this could be optional bias, depending on your mood)

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,741

Originally posted by minhyuq

The night you met him, you thought you couldn’t love him any more than this.

Much unlike you and, surely, impossible, the sight of him made your heart stumble in its rhythm, tripping over his hair, his jaw, his neck. Off to the side of the dance floor and holding a flute of champagne with the same care he’d give to a lover, he was talking. He was talking, lips moving and shaping words as though each deserved a kiss as they passed along his tongue, and you were surrendering to a minute state of mourning, saddened that you could not hear his voice. He was talking, and the world around you was changing.

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February 22, 1917 - Sergeant Benito Mussolini Wounded in Accidental Explosion

Pictured - Benito Mussolini, a Bersaglieri soldier.

A minor event by any standard, the accidental explosion of a mortar bomb wounded a young Italian soldier in his trench on February 22 on the Isonzo sector of the front. Four men were killed, but Sergeant Mussolini survived and was brought to hospital, where he stayed for six months, during which time forty-four shell fragments were removed from his body. Once a socialist, Mussolini war service had driven him politically rightwards toward being an ardent nationalist. He welcomed the King, whose monarchy he had once opposed, who visited the patriotic editor in the hospital. When he was discharged, he returned to journalism, beginning his five year road to Fascism and rule. It was too bad the bomb had missed.

Morgan Rielly - Part Twenty-One

This is getting really really fun

My mind goes numb the father down I go. When the elevator stops at the elevator, it feels as if my stomach and heart and everything else vital to my very being continues the descend. I barely feel my legs moving as I somehow make it out the revolving doors and into the cool night.

Mason’s jacket does little to keep me warm, I’m sure it has to do with the fact that I’m wearing very little beneath it but I don’t mind, I don’t even feel the cold. I wonder vaguely what is going on upstairs right now and then a sudden thought sends panic through my veins.

What if Nick comes downstairs to find me?

I don’t know if he would actually try right now, but he had tried to get into my elevator. My surroundings come more into focus and I look back the throng of people to the street in search of a taxi, if there even are any. I’ve never hailed a cab before, only ever using my Lyft or Uber app to get rides but I’ve seen shows and movies, those are the same as real life right?

Stepping on the curb, I raise a hand and watch as vehicles whiz past and then I spot one. It’s not what I would have expected a taxi to look like, no obnoxious yellow with black lettering, instead it’s a simple white car with a taxi fare sign on the top. The driver pulls to the curb and I clamber into the backseat.

After giving the driver, a pleasant woman who must be in her early forties, my destination I slump back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. Tears hadn’t come yet and I willed them to keep at bay until I return to my hotel room. But behind the blackness of my closed eyes all I see is Nick, his mouth and hands running over some other woman’s body.

Disgust pools in my stomach and I think I might throw up. I had shook that woman’s hand before, I’d talked to her children before, one of whom was just four years younger than Nick and myself. How long had I been so blind to the signs? This distance between us, both physically and emotionally, his need to control me even more hundreds of miles away; the list in endless.

A dry sob escapes my mouth, still muffled by my hands but loud enough for the driver to hear me.

“Are you alright, honey?” She asks and I’m surprised at the southern accent to her words.

I try to throw the words “I’m fine” out but they just won’t go. I know if I open my mouth to speak everything in me will break and I won’t be able to stop the flood of tears drowning the inside of me already. Instead I just shake my head, it takes more energy to lie rather than tell, or nod, the truth.

“Cheating boyfriend.” It’s not another question, it’s a statement.

I lower my hands from my face and blink several times for the woman to come in focus, her eyes are not on the mirror looking back at me, she’s staring at the road. I swallow several times and take even more deep breaths.

“How did you know?” I ask, my voice raspy and betraying me with the sadness behind it.

“Honey, I’ve worn that very look several times in my life. I even have the wedding rings to prove it,” she laughs dryly, “it never gets any easier to begin with. First boyfriend?” The last part is a question.

“First serious,” I correct and she nods again.

“That’ll be the worst,” she says and I scowl. No shit. “I take it you’re not from here as well since I’m bringing you to a hotel. Long distance relationship?”

Again I nod and somehow she knows though she never looks at me.

“Every odd stacked against you,” she says and I don’t have a response. Her dark eyes follow the line of traffic, never once darting my direction. I look at her hands, and once when we pass under a street light, I see the glint of something shiny decorating her even darker skin.

“Looks like the odds finally went in your favor,” I say and this time her eyes finally meet mine, a smile breaking across her skin.

“Yes, but this time it was I leaving the wrong man and finding the right woman,” she practically glows and I can’t help the small feeling of resentment that muscles its way up. She looks so happy and she stares down at her ring in a way that I would kill to have someone look at me. I’m jealous.

“But it took me thirty-seven years to find her, and another five to get her to marry me. You have time, and despite what people might say, time heals you,” she says, finally meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Don’t think for a second that what that boy did to you was your own fault. If I know man, and I think I do, he will berate you and blame you in a way that makes you want to fall apart inside,” she speaks with such intensity that I can’t even bring myself to blink as she swivels in her seat to face me.

“You must not let him. Because as much as I can see in your eyes your entire world falling to pieces, it’s still forming. Don’t hide your heart, sweetheart. People always preach to be kind to everyone, to never hurt anyone but that’s not realistic now is it? You can be the kindest person on earth and still have moments where you want to hurt someone, rather it be on the outside or inside.

Now, before you get out of my cab, I have one more strong word of advice if you would like to hear it,” she pauses to wait for me to answer.

I nod.

She leans forward towards me and drops her voice down. She’s even prettier than I had initially thought.

“Hurt them before they hurt you. And if someone hurts you first, buckle down and knock them to the ground twice as hard. There’s no reason in this world to be walked over, and don’t ever let any man or woman, ever make you feel like you’re not good enough,” she finishes with a severity in her tone that brings something in me to the surface, something in me that screams revenge.

“Now, off you go,” she says, shooing me with her hands. “That’s enough deep talk with one stranger for the night.”

“But I need to pay you,” I say, reaching for me purse.

“Nonsense, I’ve been off the clock for the last half hour. I drive down the busy streets to pick up and man or woman who looks like they need help. You keep your money,” she scolds.

I frown at her, needing to repay her in some way. When she goes to face forward in her car again I reach out, putting my hand over hers where it lies on the center console. “Thank you,” I whisper, meaning it with every fiber of my mind and body.

“You’re welcome,” she says placing her other hand atop of mine for a brief moment and I look down in time to see two tattoos on her ring finger, opposite of the hand that currently wears a ring. Two long bands circle the flesh and two dates on each line stare back at me. Marriage and divorce. Memories.


I throw open my hotel room door and stalk inside. Every broken fragment in my body that I had felt in that elevator downtown is suddenly repaired and dying to be released. I toss my purse down onto the bed and remove my jacket. The weight of my phone in one of the pockets reminds me of the people I left behind at the hotel. Morgan’s face, crinkled with worry and anger, two of his outstretched pale hands pushing back on Nick’s chest run through my mind and I worry about what he might have done.

I tap the screen and cringe at the missed notifications.

Six missed calls from Nick

Four voicemails from Nick

Two messages from Jake

Three missed calls from Morgan

Fourteen messages from Nick

Six messages from Morgan

Three messages from Mason

One message from William Nylander

One missed call from Mom

The latter of the list dated from three hours ago so I don’t worry about that one. I scroll through the messages from Morgan first.

Where are you?


Answer me please

Pick up your fucking phone



The ones from William, Mason and Jake are much the same, the ones from Nick tell a much different story.

Please answer my call

Fuck Y/N, please!

Please hear me out


I love you



I want to explain

Don’t leave me

Please don’t leave me

I love you

I’m so sorry

You’re my entire world. I fucked up, please please please call me

Baby please

I stare at the screen with a blank face. I don’t care what he has to say. I don’t want to hear him out. I don’t want anything to do with him and at the same time I want him to hurt. I erase the voice mails left by Nick without listening to them and clear my missed calls list.

Deciding that Morgan and the other three boys did nothing wrong, I text them all individually that I was back at the hotel and just wanted to be left alone for now. It hasn’t even been three seconds that I sent the message to Morgan that he’s calling me.

“I’m okay Morgan,” I say into the receiver, my voice eerily calm.

I hear Morgan’s sigh of relief from the other end and my heart softens just a little. “I promise I’m okay, you stay there and eat with your boys. I want some time to think. Alone.”

Morgan is quiet for a moment and I frown.

“Morgan, what did you do?” I ask slowly.

“I didn’t do anything! I wish I had, Mas kinda beat me to it,” he says and for about the fifth time tonight, my stomach drops.

“Mason? What did Mason do?”

“He may have broken a finger or two in his efforts to what I believe was kill Nick,” he says slowly.

“And how did he do?” I ask after a second of hesitation.

“Knocked him flat on his ass and then the bouncer was there between them, though I don’t think it was needed, Nick was pretty out of it,” he says and I can almost hear the pride in his voice.

I shake my head in surprise, I had never thought of Mason as one to defend me. Or even think of me worth being defended. “Where are you now?” I ask.

“On our way back to the hotel, just me, Mason and Jake that is. A few others wanted to come back with us but we told them to stay. No need to take Mas to the hospital, our trainer can patch him up pretty good himself. But if you want us to keep our distance then we will,” he adds the last part with a little bit of resentment but I ignore it.

“Are you… are you such you’re okay?” Morgan asks.

“I’m not okay, but I will be. I should have seen it coming, I was stupid to not see it when so many of you seemed to,” I sigh. “But I want my thoughts to be all my own, I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

Morgan sighs heavily. “Alright, but you call me for whatever reason.”

“Who else would I call?”


“Goodnight, Morgan,” I say gently.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.


Morgan POV

“Can you please just sit down?” Mason snaps at me from the second bed in my hotel room, “You’re making me anxious.”

“Forgive me but your feelings are not at the top of priorities right now,” I snap right back, turning on my heel and walking back towards the door.

I couldn’t stop. Every time I tried to sit or lay down all I would do is get right back up again. Her expression when she turned away from that pathetic excuse of a human about did me in. There was no sadness on her face, just hurt in her eyes and defeat on her body. The way her shoulders had slumped and her footsteps had faltered as she steadied herself against the wall of the elevator, frantically trying to get the doors to close before Nick got to her.

When my hands had laid on his shoulders, fury that I had never experienced before swelled inside me. I wanted this man to hurt, I wanted him to see what he had caused, what I knew he would cause that first night Y/N had come to my apartment. I had seen the look in her eyes when she saw his name on her phone. The same exhaustion and emptiness had been in her eyes every time I was with her and he was mentioned.

He had looked at me like I was crazy, then realization must have crossed his face. A cocky, ego-infused face stared back at me, his mouth curled up in a sneer.

“Well look who it is, Morgan right? Y/N talked a lot about you,” he had said, his voice vibrating with anger. “So much so that I thought there was no doubt she was fucking you.”

Blood had rushed to my face and he took it as a triumph.

“But then last night, when she was on her back beneath me,” he said slowly, knowing exactly what he was doing. “She had felt so good, just like the last time and I knew she was still mine. I knew no one else had touched her the way I touched her,” his voice was so low that Mason was the only other person who could hear. “That’s why I put a ring on her, to make sure that you knew.”

It felt like a freight train to my stomach. The way he was talking about her, as if she was just a piece of property. That was when my hand formed a fist.

“She’ll come back to me, she always does,” he sneered and before I could do so much as take another step towards him, he was on his back.

I stared in amazement as Mason stood above him, a trickle of Nick’s blood running down his hand. He had stooped down over the withering mess on the ground.

“If you ever so much as look at her again, I’ll rip your throat out,” he had snarled.

And suddenly I was back on the plane to our second pre-season game of the year. A pretty girl had just boarded the plane in front of another social media advisor, Mason had told me about her but he had failed to mention just how beautiful she was. She kept her eyes low on her way down the plane and then back to her seat.

I had watched her exchange with Mason, the aggressiveness to her tone and the way her eyes glinted like at any moment she would leap across the table and rip out Mason’s throat, the exact way Mason was staring at Nick right now. “You can rip each other’s throats out later.” Steve had said, and at the time we had all laughed, thinking it was a joke. Then I’m brought back to when she had first met my eyes on that same night, contrary to what she had looked like talking to Mason, her eyes were soft and timid. Kind.

“Mason,” I had said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No more. For now,” I added as Nick glared up at the two of us and then the bouncer had been there, telling us to leave which had surprised me.

“You don’t need us to stay?” I asked, looking around for any security guards.

“No. I saw what he did to the girl, he deserved it, if not more,” he had said, getting the staggering football player to his feet. The older woman he had been there with came rushing to his side, trying to look at the mark on his face but he had brushed her off, looking at the descending elevator, and what I had thought were tears from getting hit in the nose suddenly looked like tears of loss.

“Morgan, I’m telling you one last time,” Mason said, waking me from my thoughts. “If I know Y/N, and I do, I know she’s not upstairs crying in her hotel room. She’s thinking, and she’s planning. I wasn’t lying when I said she took anger management classes. Y/N can handle herself, even against him.”

We met each other’s eyes for a long moment, me ready to run out the door and to Y/N’s side, Mason content to go right to bed.

I sigh and he relaxes. “Fine, but if you’re sleeping in here I’ll suffocate you if you snore even once,” I say and he grins.

“You’ve been hanging out with Y/N a lot haven’t you?”


Chapter 1 | 2 |

Member - Yoongi x reader

Genre - Angst, Fluff, (future) smut

Word count - 4.8K

Summary - In a world where humanity was overruled by science, where everything not ordinary was shunned, where sympathy was an abstract concept, you found him. He, who was extraordinary in a way the world could never see. He, who did not want to become who the world wanted him to be. He, who was called Min Yoongi.

But your job? You job was to break him. To make him into something more ‘decent’ from the ‘unwanted creature’ he was seen as. Your job was to make him fall before what the world wanted. Not fall for him yourself.

But you see, human nature is funny.

It does exactly what it’s not supposed to

Originally posted by taecheol

You looked at the case file in your hand with nervous excitement tingling through you.

It was no ordinary file and no ordinary case. It was the record of one of the rarest cases in the history of mankind. A case which had been deemed hypothetical, something that only filled the pages of textbooks until just 15 years ago the first of this type was spotted, in a remote village in barren the landscapes of Ireland. It was a young female in her early teens who had mysteriously died days after being identified. After her, a handful of such people had been discovered but they either died or disappeared days after being found. Years later, he was the first ever case to be discovered and admitted in an institute. And he was your patient, your case to handle. This could just be the biggest breakthrough of your career.

Min Yoongi, read the name on the file.

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U-KISS’s Kiseop Suffers Second-Degree Burns After Explosion On MV Set

U-KISS’s Kiseop Suffers Second-Degree Burns After Explosion On MV Set

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U-KISS member Kiseop has received burns after an explosion on the site of a music video shoot.

U-KISS’s agency NH Media said on September 6, “While Kiseop was filming a music video, he was using a smoke emitter as a prop and there was an explosion. He received second-degree burns and many fragments were stuck in his body, and so he was taken to a hospital in Incheon.”

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Images of Lesbians Are Almost Always Sexualized. How Can Lesbian Artists Fight Back?
Recently, I saw Catherine Opie’s self-portrait Dyke (1993), a photograph currently on display at the Whitney Museum in New York. Opie is a contemporary ...

“Images of us made by straight people are so often sexualized—so how can we show our bodies without playing into that narrow and damaging paradigm? […] Lesbian artists must resist the audience’s expectations. They turn away from the viewer, fragment and shield the body, acknowledge and reject the sexualization the audience has come to expect. […] In turning away from the viewer, lesbian artists not only reclaim lesbian identity from the vandalism of hypersexualization, but also insist on the beautiful reality of the female body beyond sex: a single scar, a mess of braids, a slew of freckles on a turned back.”

This is the stance that I’ve taken ever since I started making choreography that was distinctly lesbian. I think it’s true. But I’m tired of it. I’m tired of foregrounding a male/het gaze when I’m thinking about making work (in the sense that I must think about it in order to reject it). I’d like to get away from that. I’d like to just be. But it seems as though there may always things that you have to take care of before you can do that.

This piece focuses on photography, but of course it begs the question: How can one “fragment and shield” the body when it is in plain view?

How does this apply to performance? Must a woman be cropped and fragmented and carefully placed in order to eliminate distractions for the viewer, carefully leading them towards seeing her humanity? Still?