to view it at a larger size

DIY Tropical “Low Poly” Geometric Mural

Altogether, this took about 11 episodes of Lost. 

Supplies used below: 

  • 5x 3in Paintbrushes ($1.48/each)
  • 5x Glidden Flat White Paint 1qt ($8.98/each)
  • >White, Lucious Lime, Splendor Gold, Bella Vista(Blue), Intrigue (Red)1x Ultramarine Blick-brand acrylic paint ($3?) for toning the blue above
  • 4x 1-inch Masking Tape ($5/each)
  • Cheap dollarstore plates for mixing colors.


I looked at a ton of low-poly images before deciding how to paint the triangles.

A bit better view of the colors here. Very tropical!

Before and After, with furniture.

Here are some lessons learned:

  • I probably could have bought sample sized paints and saved $20
  • I should have laid down some newspaper - there were a couple drips of paint (but good thing its just painted concrete, right?)
  • I ran out of blue masking tape briefly and switched to white so I didnt have to go out and brave Irma. Bad idea. Couldnt see my tape at all and slowed me down.
  • I probably would have rather mixed some colors in larger swaths than using plates, but clearly this wasn’t a terrible mistake.

Some 40 light-years from Earth, a planet called TRAPPIST-1e offers a heart-stopping view: brilliant objects in a red sky, looming like larger and smaller versions of our own moon. But these are no moons. They are other Earth-sized planets in a spectacular planetary system outside our own. These seven rocky worlds huddle around their small, dim, red star, like a family around a campfire. Any of them could harbor liquid water, but the planet shown here, fourth from the TRAPPIST-1 star, is in the habitable zone, the area around the star where liquid water is most likely to be detected. This system was revealed by the TRansiting Planets and PlanetIsmals Small Telescope (TRAPPIST) and NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope. The planets are also excellent targets for NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope. Take a planet-hopping excursion through the TRAPPIST-1 system.

Princess Tutu and Grand Narrative

Once upon a time, there was a clumsy school girl granted the power to transform into the magical ballerina Princess Tutu.

“Once upon a time” is a familiar phrase used to connect stories that take place in lands distant and times different from one another into the same fairytale world. Each episode of the anime Princess Tutu begins with this familiar phrase and then proceeds to tell a story both known and new, where Hans Christian Anderson’s Ugly Ducking becomes Odette, the Swan Queen, from Swan Lake, thanks to the magic of the mysterious Drosselmeyer, who bares a striking resemblance to the character of the same name from The Nutcracker. Princess Tutu is not just a retelling of a handful of fairy tales, it’s an adaptation of stories across literature, ballet, opera, and of course, anime. Each piece of Princess Tutu’s narrative belongs to worlds larger than its own. The series challenges paradigms about typical narrative creation by weaving together multiple “grand narratives”.

While working as an editor for Kadokawa Shoten in the late 80s, Otsuka Eiji wrote a paper called “World and Variation: The Reproduction and Consumption of Narrative” in which he explains the idea of the grand narrative. An individual story only gives the audience a small glimpse into that wider world that the story is set in. This wider world is full of countless narratives told from countless perspectives that make up the grand narrative. Eiji uses the Gundam franchise to illustrate this concept where any given episode of the anime is a small snapshot of narrative within the larger universe(s) Gundam takes place in. Eiji explains, “Countless other [stories] could exist if someone else were the main character.”

Everyone is the main character of their own story. But most of these stories that make up the grand narrative of a world are hidden from view. It’s impossible to tell every story at once and have it be comprehensible. Instead we can only consume small bite-sized narratives that give us a snapshot of the (hopefully) interesting parts of a protagonist’s life. But who, exactly, is controlling these smaller narratives? This is a question faced by the characters of Princess Tutu.

The concept of shifting protagonists and expanding the audience’s view into the grand narrative heavily ties into Princess Tutu’s premise. The anime’s story is catalyzed by Drosselmeyer, the author of a fictitious book called The Prince and The Raven. The book’s ending is a stalemate between the titular characters so Drosselmeyer decides to promote the minor character of Princess Tutu to the role of main character to help the story move forward.

As you can probably tell by the name, Princess Tutu is heavily influenced by ballet. One of the show’s more significant influences is Swan Lake. Through the anime’s re-purposing of Swan Lake’s Odette as a magical girl, Princess Tutu continues to uphold ballet’s tradition of adapting the story for its own purposes.

Princess Tutu and Odette

The basic story of Swan Lake is about a prince falling in love with a girl cursed to be a swan from sunrise to sunset by an evil sorcerer. The sorcerer tricks the prince into confessing his love for his daughter, Odile, instead of the swan girl thus dooming the swan girl’s chance at true love and breaking the curse.

Amanda Kennell, an American scholar, outlines in her paper “Origin and Ownership from Ballet to Anime” Swan Lake’s production history and the evolution of the ballet’s narrative. The original staging in 1877 had the story end with the villain going unpunished and the two lovers drowning in a flood. In a revival staging from 1895 the villain was defeated and the two lovers reunited in heaven after throwing themselves into a lake. In a single scene production called The Magic Swan from the 1940s, the iconic “black swan” was introduced setting the precedent for the same ballerina to play the role of Odette and Odile in striking white and black costumes. And finally, another staging in 2006, not only adopted the White and Black Swan motif, but also changed the ending once again so that the prince kills the villain and he and Odette live happily ever after.

Despite each staging of the classic having significant differences, none of the variations are cast away as counterfeits. The value of the production isn’t in how close it is to the original Swan Lake but instead in the relative merit of each variation. In fact, it doesn’t really matter which you consider “the original” where the additions made by each carry their own merit and add to Swan Lake’s grand narrative. In this same regard, it would be acceptable to consider Princess Tutu another variation on the world of Swan Lake’s grand narrative.

There is terminology for this phenomenon in Kabuki theater. Eiji points out in his paper the similarities between the concepts of Sekai (world) and Shukou (plot) from Kabuki theater and his ideas of the grand narrative and the smaller narratives.

In Kabuki, Sekai represents the world a story takes place in and Shukou represents the story that is a product of that world. Each staging of a Kabuki play is its own Shukou derived from either a single Sekai or the mixing of Sekai. What matters in creating a good performance is not necessarily conveying the Sekai but instead the relative merit of the Shukou’s take on things. No performance is exactly the same and different actors bring different strengths to a performance and in turn provide a different experience for the audience’s entertainment. This of course carries over to more art forms than just Kabuki, classic ballet is in a similar position where entire songs are sometimes re-choreographed just to match the strengths of an individual ballerina. Ballet in particular has a long tradition of making minor and major changes to suit an individual performance. Whether it be tweaking choreography or straight up giving the story a different ending. The evolution of Swan Lake’s production is an excellent example of how productions of what are considered to be the same story can dramatically vary.

But Princess Tutu borrows from more stories than just Swan Lake. This brings us back to Kabuki and the idea of mixing Sekai in order to create another Shukou.

Princess Tutu takes pieces of classic stories and rearranges them to create something simultaneously familiar and completely new. Princess Tutu is not forging a new Shukou from only Swan Lake’s Sekai, but instead is connecting the canon of European literature and performing arts together into an even more extensive grand narrative.

Just look at the series’ opening for example, where Swan Lake and The Nutcracker are intertwined with one another as the anime’s titular character is dressed in the ballet costume of Odette and dances to The Nutcracker’s Flower Waltz to simultaneously combine the worlds of two ballets while producing an entirely new moment unique to the Princess Tutu anime.

The anime ends on the implication that if one person tries to control a story and the grand narrative it’s connected to, that person will fail. Princess Tutu is an excellent reminder of how stories are dynamic. Stories end up taking on a life of their own evolving, expanding and being reworked by both creators and consumers.

Eiji explains that once the consumers feel they have a grasp on the grand narrative they are free to produce their own small narratives from it. This is exactly how its creators forged Princess Tutu from the grand narrative of classic literature and performing arts. Just as mangaka can’t help it if a doujinshi adds to the narrative of their original story, Travosky can’t control the new life his ballets have taken on in Princess Tutu. Stories will take on a life of their own, abandon the need for an original and become a part to a larger grand narrative to be consumed and reworked over and over.

Perfect Night (Jared Kleinman X Reader)

AN; Chubby reader! It’s not the main focus but it’s just a side thing, I guess? I’m sorry this sucks and there aren’t very many descriptive Jared moments. I’ve yet to experience prom, dolls.

WC; 2131

You walked through the hallways with your books in your arms, a smile on your face as you chatted with your friend Zoe. You both walked into your largest class and sat down next to each other, still chatting away until a certain someone caught your attention.

“So yeah, Connor had-” Zoe stopped talking, noticing the blush that covered your face and the way your eyes were shining. She looked in the direction you were staring at and saw Jared Kleinman, sitting next to Connor and Connor’s boyfriend, Evan. She raised her eyebrows in a disgusted manor.

“Really, (Y/N/N)? Kleinman?” Zoe snorted, making eye contact with Alana as she walked in.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, a small smile on your face.

Connor also noticed you staring at Jared, so he hit Jared and pointed at you. Jared turned to you and flashed a smirk, winking at you.

“Oh my, oh my god,” You whispered, turning to Zoe. “Did he just- he just,”

“Hi, Zoe, (Y/n)!” Alana said as she sat down, kissing Zoe’s cheek. Alana noticed you freaking out and looked up at Connor and Evan to see them laughing. Jared was facing you and smirking.

“Were you two flirting again?” Alana grinned, poking fun at you.

“They were practically having eye sex.” Zoe chuckled, making you turn redder and hide your face.

“I seriously hate you two.” You mumbled into your hands.

“Okay, class, quiet down! Lessons are starting now!”

“Zoe, where are we going?” You whined, letting her pull you by the hand.

“Just wait! Be patient!” Zoe said, stopping suddenly. You almost ran into her.

“Ok, ok, sit here!” Zoe shouted excitedly, pushing you onto a bench. You frowned as she ran off, setting your back pack next to you. You uncomfortably tugged on your shirt to make it looser, a habit you had every time you sat down. You sat on the bench for about five minutes, watching the sun slowly start to set. You fidgeted with your hands, slowly getting annoyed.

“Hey,” You heard a voice call out softly, the person sitting next to you.

“Oh, uh, hi Jared.” You squeaked, noticing the flowers in his hands.

“Oh, er, these are for you.” Jared saw you looking at them and handed you the flowers with sweaty hands, a small grin on his face.

You turned red and cradled the flowers close to your chest, smelling them to hide your blush.

“Are you going to prom?” Jared blurted, his eyes focused on you.

“Oh- I- I wasn’t going to. I thought it’d be lame to go alone.” You mumbled, lifting your head up and looking at the sunset.

“Oh.” Jared fidgeted, looking at the sunset with you. “Who did you want to go with?”

You looked at Jared with slight shock. Jared turned his head to you, a stupid smirk on his stupid cute face.

“T-That’s none of your business, Jared!” You teased, a smirk on your face as well.

“Oh yeah?” Jared teased back. “What if I made it my business?”

“And how would you go about doing that?” You asked, a bit of confusion in your voice.

Jared stood up, a smirk still on his face. You held the flowers tightly, hoping this was what you thought it was. Connor and Evan stepped out from behind the tree nearby, snapping a steady beat.

“What the heck I gotta do,” Jared sang, drawing it out. “To be with you.”

AN; Just imagine the rest of the song, I don’t wanna add it lmao ;3

Jared repeated it, having Connor and Evan sing background vocals. Zoe and Alana eventually stepped out and joined the snapping and background vocals.

“So I decided I needed to step my game up.” Jared sang.

“What the heck I gotta do. Who do I have to be, for you to go to prom with me?” Jared finished, his eyes hopeful. Your friends went quiet and waited for your answer. You set the flowers on the bench and launched yourself at Jared, bringing him to the ground in a hug.

“Is that a yes?” Jared said, sitting up and hugging you back.

“Yes, my god, yes!” You laughed, tears gathering at your eyes. Your friends cheered and whooped happily.

“Now, why am I here?” Connor complained from the backseat of the car.

“Connor, we can’t let our dates see our outfits until the night of prom! So us three are going together!” Zoe explained again, glancing in the rear view mirror. You smiled out the window as the car pulled into the mall. Evan, Jared, and Alana had decided to go shopping together while you, Zoe, and Connor went.

“Okay!” Zoe cheered. “We’re here!”

As the three of you walked into the dress shop, you felt worry gathering in your stomach. What if the dresses didn’t fit you? What if they didn’t have your size? Well, Connor would probably get mad and demand they start stocking larger sizes for body equality. Zoe would calmly tell them to get their shit in order and leave. The Murphy siblings were practically your real siblings.

Zoe squealed and immediately ran in, heading towards a rack full of gorgeous prom dresses. Connor smiled at you and pulled you in by your wrist gently.

By the time you both caught up with Zoe she had piles of dresses on each arm, one pile for you and one pile for her. Connor groaned and grabbed the nearest suit and light blue tie to match Evan’s.

You and Jared had agreed on a (f/c) color scheme, Zoe and Alana decided on a pretty lime green theme, and Evan and Connor agreed on black and light blue.

Zoe shoved the pile of dresses into your arms and pulled you to the changing rooms. She sat down in the chair in front of one and pulled Connor into the chair next to her.

“You try all of your dresses on first, and we’ll tell you how they are!” Zoe squealed, her eyes shining happily. You nodded and hesitantly walked into the large changing room, glancing at yourself in the mirror. You tore you clothes off and avoided looking in the mirror until you had the first dress on. The first one fit perfectly but was way too puffy. You stepped out of the dressing room and could tell it was an immediate no by the looks the two were giving you.

“Okay then.” You laughed, heading back into the changing room.

The second dress was way too tight, so you didn’t even go out to show Zoe and Connor. It would’ve been embarrassing.

The next dress was the perfect length and it hugged your top half perfectly. The dress was a strapless heart shaped top with a lacy bottom that just touched the floor. Your waist looked amazing, and you felt very confident. You stepped out of the dressing room with a smile, flaunting around dramatically.

“You look hot, (Y/N)!” Zoe said, a grin on her face.

“No.” Connor said. “You cannot wear that.”

“What? Why?” You asked, your smile fading.

“Jared will be ALL over you, it’s just too hot.” Connor smirked, crossing his arms.

“Perfect.” You said, earning a shocked cough from Connor.

“No! That’s not gonna happen! You HAVE to dance with an imaginary balloon between you two!” Connor demanded, acting like he was your older brother. You stuck your tongue out and mocked him, earning a giggle from Zoe.

You stood on the front steps of the Murphy household, waiting for your dates to arrive.

“Alana says the limo is only two minutes away.” Zoe said, putting her phone in her small handbag. Connor was fidgeting with his hands awkwardly, his hair up in a bun.

“D-Does my tie look alright?” Connor nervously fixed his tie, looking between you and Zoe.

“Yes, Connor, you look amazing.” You smiled, gently hitting him on the arm. Your parents were standing inside, watching you three bond on the front steps. The limo pulled up slowly, and Evan stepped out first. He was wearing a black suit with an adorable blue tie to match Connor. Alana stepped out with a short lacy lime green dress, rocking a silver handbag and flats. Lastly, Jared crawled out, wearing a black suit with a (f/c) tie. Jared smiled at you and stepped up, taking your hand. You blushed and smiled.

“You look absolutely hot, Ms. (L/N).” Jared grinned, gently slipping a (f/c) corsage onto your wrist. You smiled back, your other hand on your chest in a flattered way.

“Why, you’re quite hot too, Mr. Kleinman.” You flirted, letting him lead you to the limo.

“Y-You got us reservations at a pizza place?!” Evan said, laughing slightly.

Jared shrugged and laughed, grabbing your hand to hold it. Connor shook his head at you with a smile.

“This is going to be the best night ever!” Zoe said, pulling Alana into the pizza shop.

“How do you even get reservations at a pizza shop?” Connor mumbled, letting Evan pull him inside. You smiled at Jared and walked in side by side.

“Not only did he make ‘reservations’, he had the pizza premade.” Alana giggled, taking a bite of a slice.

Jared plopped down into the booth, pulling you down into his side. You six ate three whole pizzas, somehow managing to keep your clothes all clean. Jared had one arm around you the whole time, a smile on his face.

“Ugh, who’s ready to go dance the night away?” Jared groaned, his other hand on his stomach.

“Me!” Zoe cried, taking Alana’s hand and running back to the limo.

“How the hell do they do that?” Connor squinted, watching the two girls run away together, full of energy.

“Caffeine, maybe?” Evan said, getting up with you all and heading to the limo.

Jared awkwardly placed his hands on your waist as you placed your hands on his neck. You turned red as you and Jared made eye contact. You stepped forward a bit, your bodies almost touching. Jared’s hands were sweaty and holding you tightly.

“This is,” Jared mumbled. “Wow. Just wow.”

You laughed quietly, looking down and then back up at Jared. The lights were dim, and the disco ball above lit up the room. You stared into Jared’s eyes as the two of you swayed slowly, glancing at his lips slowly.

“C-an I kiss you?” Jared mumbled, his voice cracking.

“My god, yes.” You whispered, leaning in slightly. Jared quickly jerked forward and crashed his lips onto yours, almost bumping his forehead on yours. The kissed lasted longer than it should’ve, and it started to get intense. You both pulled away, your eyes wide.

“Should we-?” You said, not noticing your friends watching you.

“Hell yeah.” Jared said, grabbing your hand and pulling you out the door.

“Where the fuck are they going?” Connor asked, a bit overprotective.

“Probably gonna get laid.” Zoe giggled, dancing with Alana.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine..” Evan mumbled, swaying side to side with Connor. Connor grumbled and pouted, pulling Evan closer.

‘did u make it home last night?’ Connor texted into the group chat with you and Zoe.

‘nope’ You texted back, laying next to a sleeping Jared.

‘good thing your parents aren’t home.’ Zoe added.

‘how do u know?’ You questioned.

‘we came here to check on u but ur clearly at jareds.’ Connor added with a smirk emoji.

‘was he good?’ Connor added, making you groan and turn off your phone.

“Pretty sure I was the best you’ve had.” Jared said, his voice croaking. He scared you, and you dropped your phone on your face.

“Jared!” You cried, giggling. Jared chuckled sleepily and pulled your naked frame into his side. Your face burned red as you insecurely wrapped the blanket around yourself.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. I saw all of your beautifulness underneath me last night.” Jared smirked, somehow managing to pull himself into the blanket you had wrapped around yourself.

“Shut up, handsome.” You said, burying your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around him. 

Mockingjay Manor - Ch 4

Chapter One /// Chapter Two /// Chapter Three

Last week, you voted 21 to 13 for Katniss and Peeta to risk their friends’ ridicule and tell them about the creepy unexplained noises they heard while exploring. This week, our delightful friend @peetamymuse is continuing the adventure. What happens next in Mockingjay Manor? Let’s find out…

A word of warning to our sensitive readers, the creep factor is steadily climbing in this story. For now, we’re still firmly in the T category, but that could change. Caveat emptor…

As always, you have 48 hours to vote (in the comments or reblogs, NOT in the tags!), until Noon EDT on Thursday, September 21st.

“What?” Johanna asks. “Did you two hear a spooky noise? See someone floating around in a white sheet?”

She holds her arms up and makes ghostly moaning sounds. “I’m coming for you.” Outside, the thunder and lightning punctuate her words. With her dark hair and sharp features, Johanna looks especially witchy in the flickering light.

​"We heard bird noises,“ Peeta says. "And something that sounded like knocking.”

“And it couldn’t have been Finnick,” I add. “He was too far away.”

Finnick and Johanna share a look and something passes between them that I don’t catch.  There is a long pause and then, the two of them burst out laughing.

Keep reading


Ask Ethan: How Bright Is The Earth As Seen From The Moon?

“What would be brighter: a full moon or a full earth from the moon? Would the brightness remain constant?”

The full Moon is undoubtedly bright. As viewed from the Earth’s surface, it’s the second brightest object of all, after the Sun, and is more than 1,500 times brighter than Venus. In fact, the full Moon is over 40 times brighter than the entire rest of the night sky combined, and can outshine even a big city when seen right next to one. But the Earth has the Moon beat on the only two intrinsic properties that matter: size and reflectivity. The much larger size of Earth means that a “full Earth” as seen from the Moon has 13 times the surface area as the full Moon as seen from Earth. But on top of that, the Moon, as bright as it appears in the sky, is actually a relatively dull grey in color, more similar to charcoal than it is to a snowy white. The Earth, on the other hand, has icecaps, clouds, and highly reflective continents, particularly where deserts are involved.

So how bright is the Earth as seen from the Moon by comparison, and what does this tell us about these worlds? Find out on this edition of Ask Ethan!


nasa Between July 5-11, our Sun-observing satellite, the Solar Dynamics Observatory, saw a sunspot rotate into view and captured it on this. Such sunspots are a common, but are less frequent as we head toward solar minimum, which is the period of low solar activity during its regular approximately 11-year cycle. This sunspot is the first to appear after the sun was spotless for two days, and it is the only sunspot group at this moment. Like freckles on the face of the sun, they appear to be small features, but size is relative: The dark core of this sunspot is actually larger than Earth.
Credits: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center/SDO/Joy Ng, producer 

Nudge Theory
Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1827 (Act II)

A/N: A five act mini-series. The reader and Castiel must work together to solve the curious case of the missing Winchesters. Fluff, smut, and a plot for kicks. It was originally going to be three acts, then I got invested because Cas is adorable. Now it’s outlined for five acts. I’m not sorry. NSFW themes below the cut.

Previous chapters:   Act I

(not my GIF)

Nudge [verb] –

·       “Coax or gently encourage someone to do something.”

Blame it on being over-tired. Blame it on a certain heavenly shade of blue you couldn’t shake when you finally succumbed to the tender embrace of slumber. No, blame it on the Winchesters. After all, they’re the reason you’re sound asleep with an angel at the wheel as the dawn light swirls misty gold on the horizon. To be more specific, blame it on the mountain of porn you weeded through on Dean’s computer the evening before to sort out your current destination. Whomever or whatever you blame, clearly you are in no way at fault for lucidly dreaming of Castiel, angel of the Lord, possessed of the bluest eyes in the history of blue, so blue, they might in fact have been the first blue in all of creation - it’s not like you planned to have the best sex dream of your life with him seated at arm’s length.

Keep reading


I caught the last day of the William Eggelston show at the David Zwirner Gallery on 20th Street in NYC. These are the largest Eggleston prints made, measuring 45 x 65 3/8 inches, and they hold up well at the larger size. (though making them big seems to be less about Eggleston aesthetics and more about Zwirner economics.) 

The majority of the 40 prints on display had not been previously exhibited, though they were taken more than 30 years ago as part of his ongoing series The Democratic Forest.

I took the above images of Eggleston’s framed prints with my cellphone. I tried to faithfully reproduce the originals, but you really need to stand in front of them for the full effect. Readers of this Tumblr know my view  of Eggleston and his contribution to American art and photography. Eggleston himself is a man of few words. So, in that spirit, I’ll leave it there. Enjoy.  

Boyfriend! Sehun

I hope you like it!! (I got a little inspired by EXO Next Door for the first part of the headcanon lol)

Requested By: Anonymous

When He First Sees You

  • Oh Sehun could probably be found roaming the streets after dusk for some fresh air
  • And there’s you who’s coming from the convenience store from across the street
  • The both of you are pretty occupied with your phones, you scrolling through your SNS and Sehun listening to music as he continues his daily jog
  • It’s only until you hear heavy footsteps when you decide to not look up and call your best friend if anything mysterious were to happen
  • “Cmon pick up pick up pick pup”
  • “Sorry, the number that you––”
  • So now you’re left your Plan B which is pretend that your on the phone with someone.
  • The footsteps behind you become closer and abruptly stop when your chips fall out of the bag.
  • “Excuse me, miss?”
  • “Keep walking. Keep walking,” you muttered to yourself
  • “Miss?” That was it. He tapped you on your shoulder. You were over.
  • SIIIKE. You turned around and it was..I actually don’t know what the words are to describe Sehun’s visual tbh (if you haven’t noticed..he’s my ult)
  • “You dropped these. Nice choice btw”
  • “Nice bod––I mean nice job––I mean thank you. Yeah, that’s it! Thank you.”
  • “It’s whatever..hey? Do you need me to walk you to your house or something? Its not safe out here. Besides, I saw you using the ‘I’m pretending to talk to someone method’.”
  • “That’s why you were jogging? Well, if you insist..”

How He Asks You Out

  • “So how far do you live from here?”
  • “In that apartment complex.”
  • “You know what? So do I. That’s why you seemed familiar to me!”
  • “ live in number 412? Sehun?!”
  • “I was surprised it took you this long to figure out. I take that back; I’m not surprised.”
  • “Shut up omg”
  • “I was only joking. Anyway I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to that pizzeria that I always hear you raving about, but I thought about it. I wouldn’t want to ruin this ‘nice bod’.”
  • “I’ll meet you there at 6pm tomorrow. No take backs.”
  • “I’ll see you then, (Y/N).”

Your Relationship

  • After your date with him at the pizza parlor, the teasing increased but so did the romance.
  • It’d go from “Sehun, you remember that one time you called me ‘miss’? EPIC.”
  • to “Sehun, I think we should live together. I kinda hate not sleeping in the same bed as you all the time. You know what I mean?”
  • “(Y/N), I completely agree and see where you’re coming from. Trust me I do, but I’m not moving across the hall to a room that is the same exact size as mine. Not gonna happen.”
  • “I meant in a HOUSE.”
  • “Oh.”
  • Sehun doesn’t strike me as the excessive PDA type of person
  • Like he’d cuddle but only when he’s had a rough day
  • I view him as being a person who favors full out kisses more than anything
  • Pecks just won’t cut it for him. I guess he’d view it as “leading him on” idkidki
  • Yeah that’s pretty much it. Sehun would mainly focus on the larger things in life, and he is very much a critical thinker even though it comes off as sarcasm (which is why you stuck with him because the both of you are similar). Kisses, pizza, and trying new things are the keys to each other’s hearts and he wouldn’t trade any of his experiences with you for the world.

Originally posted by huntertainment

anonymous asked:

If you don't mind me asking, what's your hc for cybertronian reproduction?

I don’t mind at all, I love talking about this stuff. :)  GET READY FOR ANOTHER LONG POST.

Step 1:  Two or more bots spark-merge (press their sparks together, letting the outer layer mingle.  This transfers CNA back and forth between their sparks.  (But bots can also produce a viable spark without ever having spark-merged with a partner, so this is kind of optional.)

Step 2:  One of the bots engages in “raking”, which is the act of opening their chest panels and rubbing the outside of the spark until little sparklets (small poofs of spark) condense off the spark.  (This is not painful and the spark will naturally regenerate the lost material.)

Step 3:  Traditionally bots let them fly away on the wind like dandelion poofs.  They float easily, having just enough mass to catch a breeze.  BTW it’s considered really gauche to do this in an urban area, so urban bots generally save raking for camping trips, etc.

Step 4:  The sparklets eventually settle on the ground.  If the ground contains the right nutrients, they will ‘root’ in the ground and start building a protoform centered around the spark.  Fertile areas are called hotspots.  Hotspots deplete over time as the nutrients are used up, but new ones develop in other areas.  It’s the CIIIIRCLE OF LIIIIFE!  Tampering with a hotspot, or even walking through one, is STRONGLY taboo.  (But that didn’t stop both factions from ‘harvesting’ hotspots when the war got really desperate.)  Sparklets that land in infertile areas will dissipate within a few days.

Step 5:  The rooted sparks build their bodies until they are full size, then separate from the soil. Newly separated protoforms are pretty ‘formless’ compared to ‘adult’ bots.  They have a sort of hard carapace, no alt mode, and usually shamble around awkwardly and fall down a lot at first.  At this stage, their intelligence is about on par with a feral cat’s.   Protoforms have very sharp teeth and get their nutrients from eating rocks and plants, mostly.  TFP’s Megatron’s teeth are similar to typical protoform teeth.  (He had his dentae altered to look more appealing and ‘cute’ back when he and Orion were still doing the ‘peaceful revolution’ thing.) Over time protoforms develop more nuanced forms and intellects, based on what they observe around them.

Step 6:  You know how chicks instinctively follow a hen?  Protoforms instinctively follow each other.  They form loose groups called cohorts.  The members of a cohort will eat together, play together, nap on top of each other, and protect each other from danger.  They are instinctively wary and distrustful of ‘adult’ bots and will flee them.

Step 7: However, eventually this will pass and they will become intensely curious about adults.  This usually happens around the same time as they begin to gain true color in their plating.  What usually happens is that a protoform eventually follows an adult to a village or city.  (Before Cybertron went to shit, the cities would send out ‘lure-bots’, bots who would slowly drive through areas where cohorts hung out in order to be sure that the older protoforms had an opportunity to see / follow an adult back to civilization.)

Step 8: At this point the protoforms graduate to being called newsparks. They develop quickly, learning language and then societal norms. They begin interacting with adults.  They finish developing their alt mode.  They form a new cohort, and this one acts more like a group of teens as opposed to a group of critters. Adult bots communally care for the newsparks (feeding them, teaching them to drive or fly, providing medical care, etc.)  The antics of newsparks are viewed indulgently, which is good because they tend to break a lot of stuff. (Especially the larger newsparks, like shuttles.  And Primus help bots who have to deal with the ultra rare city-former newspark.)

Step 9:  At some point the newspark will again separate from their cohort, desiring to be regarded as “mature” and enter fully into Cybertronian society as an adult.  Before Functionism, this would entail a newspark asking for an apprenticeship or applying for a job.  In the Functionist regime, a newspark would be shuttled into a job based on their alt-mode, size, and maybe proficiency tests.

Whew, that was long!  But yeah, that’s my headcanon. :)

Maybe someone noticed that the sizes of my colorings has become smaller recently.

This is due to the fact that my colorings are sold on amazon, aliexpress, in many internet anime shops. I don’t like this (╥_╥)
I don’t want to add the watermark on colorings, so as not to cover the half of work. Therefore, now the size of the colorings will be no more 1000 pixels on the larger side (sometimes less).

Who loved to open my colorings and view the details, excuse me m(_ _)m

Please don’t buy things with my colorings.

You can print the colorings in print-shops for your own personal use or as a gift to someone :3 (If you’ll need a large size for printing, just write me, I will share it with you)

Imagine you're a genetic anomaly

Imagine you’re a test subject in a vast genetic research project.  

There’s a gene in you the researchers like. You’re durable. You have survived many tests that other humans didn’t, taken damage and injury and healed quickly and fully. The researchers are trying to multiply such a gene in other species in their control, and they’re doing it by breeding them, all of them, with you.  

You’ve been through this before more times than you can count. In fact, you stopped counting because for the most part, you stopped paying attention. They pull you from your cell, breed you, stick you in an observation block until you give birth, move you to a post-partum unit until the offspring are weaned, then drop you back into your living cell until you’re ready to carry again and they have another sire.  

So, it catches your attention when a tech says they have something new for you in store as he retrieves you and leads you to the breeding labs.  

When you walk through the swinging doors, you’re immediately seized by two more techs and ushered to an examination table. They hoist you onto it and prop your legs apart on extendable stirrups, then proceed to secure you to the table using leather straps around your chest, arms, and neck and a spreader bar latched to your thighs just above your knees.  

You watch as the techs leave the room through doors on the opposite wall, leaving you cold and exposed in the sterile room with only two doctors setting up a table with equipment you can’t see, but know are metal because you can hear it clinking together.  

Finally, the doctors turn their attention to you. Or, rather, they turn their attention to your exposed holes. You, they ignore. You’re but another tool for their projects. All they care about is your parts. They don’t even spare consideration for your comfort as they begin working.  

A choked squawk escapes your throat when you feel a cold metal device forcefully shove its way into you and begin slowly opening, granting the doctors easy access deep inside you. Both doctors stare into your gaping hole, one asking for tools and the other passing them to him. You groan and writhe as much as you can in your restraints to try and ease the burn off them penetrating and stretching your cervix with dull, cold rods until you’re dilated enough to proceed.  

You hear them talk to each other about the procedure, hearing things like ‘evacuate the environment’ and ‘prepare harvested eggs for freezing’ and 'implanting endometrium’. These things mean nothing to you, and you can’t see them work, only feel them as they scrape, scratch, pull, suction, and prod at your insides. You’d be bored, but the techs returned several moments ago with two of their biggest horses: Clydesdale horses, a stallion and a mare. You know the stallion. He was used to sire foals into you many times before. You know the mare, too, as you’ve shared observation cells with her before. You know she produces litters of foals, and ovulates multiple eggs at a time. By the way she and the stallion are acting, you assume she’s doing it now.

You watch as the horses are bred. They secure the mare to iron bars and bracers, then let the stallion have at her. And have at her, he does, several times. Growling, grunting, snorting, hooves smashing against the rubber floors as he rears up and lands on the mare, gnawing on her shoulder as he thrusts into her hard enough to rattle the bars holding her. He goes into her again and again until his seed sprays out of her with each thrust because she’s too over full to hold any more of him. The stallion is then lead away out of the lab as the doctors turn to spread open the mare, and dig around in her, too.  

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you wake up with a start as you feel a sharp needle prick deep inside you. “Three eggs,” a doctor says, and then he orders the techs to unstrap you and take you to an observation cell.  

After only a few days, you already feel the tell tale signs that the eggs took, and you’re successfully pregnant again. A test after a week confirms it, and you spend the day rubbing your stomach in anticipation of feeling yourself stretching and growing along with the foals you know will come in a few months.  

Two weeks later, you’re taken back to the lab and secured to the table again. Another procedure ends with another three eggs planted in you. Two weeks after that, three more eggs. Impregnated with nine foals, all at different times? This IS new, you think.  

Twenty three weeks later, you’re lying in your cell, rubbing your belly gently. It’s grown so big you can’t sleep even on your back and have to lay on your side all day. You can’t even walk from your nest to your toilet without needing to rest. You spend your days sleeping, eating a special diet, walking short distance, and masturbating to the feeling of your womb stretching to accommodate the growth within, and the sensation of the older foals twitching about your insides. You mostly sleep, though, because the whole process leaves you drained within hours.  

The techs show up at your cell door again. They sit you in a wheelchair and cart you off to another, larger observation cell next to the labs. You’ve never been here before; you don’t know what to do or expect. You feel tense and hug your stomach protectively against your own fear. The fear of what, you aren’t sure.  

Doctors and techs enter an adjacent room separated by a thick glass window, and the lights in both rooms dim.

You begin to relax after a while of nothing happening. As far as you can tell, you’re alone in the dark. It’s silent, save for a soft tapping coming from the ceiling. You can’t tell what’s causing it, but you don’t think it’s anything that should worry you.  

You’re more annoyed than anything, honestly. You’re tired, all of your joints from the ribs down ache from the weight of the foals in your oversized midsection, and you just want to go back to sleep in your nest. You groan in annoyance and effort as you glare at the viewing room and make your way slowly towards the doors, hoping they get the picture.  

You move but a yard or so and freeze. A new sound has started up. Hissing, screeching, rattling, high in pitch and so loud it echos off the walls and makes you fall to your knees, covering your ears. The sound is more muffled by your hands, and it’s low enough now for you to determine the general source. The ceiling!  

You glance up just in time to watch two insect-like creatures fall and land on the floor behind you. You scream and scramble to your feet, but you’re too burdened to move quick enough and before you know it, one of the creatures is on you.  

It pins you down with four of its six legs with two on your ankles and two on your shoulders. The other two legs reach under the third segment of its body and hook under your thighs where your legs meet your groin. It lifts you up off your knees, arms lined with small but long and sharp needle-like spines that dig deep into your muscles.  

For a second, you feel a hot, acidic liquid shoot into your thighs, and then your body goes completely limp.  

You inwardly groan as you can’t even move your eyes away from the reflective surface of the nearby viewing window. You’re stuck watching the scene unfold helplessly.  

The creature on top of you adjusts its posture and you can see it better. Multiple segments on its body, six legs, four membrane wings folded carefully under a shell on its back, head mostly big eyes and antennae, all bright green. You assume its a female from the swollen lower segment, full of lumps you think might be eggs.  

The other creature is similar to the first, but about half her size (though still larger than the stallion that had sired the foals within you), red in color, with spines on all its limbs and underside. Its last segment is mostly translucent on its underside and you can see a fluid sloshing around as it climbs on the back of the female and hooks its spines into her thick exoskeleton shell. A male?  

You don’t have much time to speculate before the feel of two thick, ribbed, slippery appendages shove their way into your hole and inch their way towards your cervix. You can see in the reflection that each insect has a dark purple channel protruding from their last segments, fumbling their way into you.  

They both find your cervix and press and nudge against it and each other as if fighting for the right of first penetration. Your muscles are so relaxed that there’s no resistance when the more rigid appendage finally breeches, but it still burns, stretches, hurts. But you can’t cry, fight or even squirm.  

The smaller, softer appendage joins the other, and together they slip and rummage within you until they stop and gently caress a solid weight. One of your foals, the earlier older ones. A sound almost like a rattling purr sounds from the female and you feel something in her shift and exit her abdomen as it rests against your back.  

Whatever left her body is round, long, squishy, and big. You know, because it stretches your entrance at least three inches wider and slides into you. It presses against your walls hitting every nerve as it surges through your cervix, preceded by a large hot blast of liquid from the male’s softer, smaller appendage. The force of it is enough to jostle the fetuses and cause them to shift.  

Only after two more things moved from the female into you, along side the first, do you understand. These creatures are breeding in you! They’re using you as an incubator! And you can’t do anything about it!  

It takes over an hour for the female to lay twenty-seven eggs in you along side your foals. You don’t know how much liquid the male pumped into you. The weight of the two creatures is significantly less than it was when they climbed on you, all of it now resting in your belly, making you feel close to bursting.  

The female withdraws from you but stays on you until the male withdraws as well. His final parting gift to you is a thick, sticky liquid that fills your channel to the brim. You think it might overflow, but it’s so viscous that it simply bulges into a bubble.  

They retreat to the ceiling again, and the techs move in to retrieve you. You can’t fight because you still can’t move. By the time the techs tuck you into your nest the substance in your hole has thickened into a gummy paste. When the paralytic wears off you try to remove it only to realize it’s stuck there until further notice.  

You notice the eggs begin to harden over the next two weeks. They retain a certain give, like they’re covered in leather. The foals have moved about to accommodate the new occupants, curling their long legs around the masses.  

You’re lying down, rubbing your belly one afternoon when you touch one of the eggs. You see, hear, and feel both inside and out as the egg cracks. You flinch in surprise. It’s enough pressure to cause the other eggs to crack and shift as well. The hatchling wiggle viciously inside you as they escape. Their movements cause the shells to shift downward towards and eventually through your cervix. The gummy gel in your channel hardens to wax loosens, and with a bit of help from your hand, can be wiggled out of you. You notice all the egg shells in it before you toss it away.  

Later in the night you’re awoken by frantic lurching and jolting in your belly. You signal the evening techs and they quickly bring in an ultrasound. They seem unconcerned with what they find: the eggs hatched into large larvae with huge teeth. They’ve used the teeth to chew and bore their way into the three older foals. You panic, because you were so close to birthing them!  

But now you can only whimper as you and the staff watch on the screen, pointing out where the larvae chewed cavities for themselves in the tender, plump bodies of the unborn foals.  

You watch as one of the foals thrashes, kicking wildly against the intruders eating through its stomach and chest. It kicks its last as one of the larvae reaches its heart.  

The staff leaves you alone again. You don’t sleep until the movement in you stops, the larvae well fed for now.  

Eventually, you get used to the extra room in your belly. You press down on where your oldest foals had been, only to feel the area compress in the hollow area. You can feel the larvae wiggle when you disturb them when you do so.  

It doesn’t take long for the emptiness to be filled with the larvae growing from their meal.  

Two weeks pass by without incident. During the night somewhere in the second week, you feel the process start again. Something hard shifts and cracks in your belly. With your hand on the area, you can feel the larvae thrashing to break free of something. It can’t be eggs, you think, because they already hatched. You figure they must have molted. There’s something new with them this time. Something sharp and long. You feel it scrape against the inside of your womb when they move about your swollen abdomen.  

Only hours later, the thrashing of hatching is replaced by the frantic sensation of kicking, bucking, struggling, writhing. They’ve found the oldest of the remaining foals and have begun tearing into the tender flesh. It doesn’t take but minutes this time for the feeding frenzy to die down. You fall back asleep to the feeling of the larvae latching on to your inner walls with what feel like tiny claws. By the time you wake up, their shells have grown and hardened and you can feel each individual one through the skin on your stomach stretched thin over the new sudden growths.  

You’re masturbating idly the next time they hatch out of their old skins. The angle you’re resting at against the wall so you can reach around your belly to your crotch, allows you to watch as your stomach ripples with each hatching larvae. You count just under thirty, watching as they move about with their new limbs and bigger bodies. You don’t feel the foals struggle as they’re devoured. The larvae have grown too big for the kicking to reach you. All you feel is the fumbling and wrestling of the larvae as they feed around each other. You sigh in delight and orgasm four, five times before they settle in to grow another molt, your stomach stretching even further to accommodate the bigger shells growing inside.  

A month later, you’re taken into the lab again and secured down onto a table. The doctors begin carefully and slowly spreading you open, stretching you past the point of painful. You bite down on a leather strap placed in your mouth as they work to open you as far as you think you possibly could be without splitting in two.  

For s moment you’re distracted by two Clydesdale foals on the other side of the room. You hadn’t noticed them before. You’re not sure how old they are. They’re very young, young enough to still have an interest in the bottles being offered but old enough to nip at each other playfully until the techs administer a sedative to each one, and they give in to it. The foals are each wrapped in some slick membrane and a long plastic tube is inserted down their throats. They are then hoisted onto tables, doused in s thick, slippery fluid, and rolled over to the doctors.  

You can’t see over your belly, so you don’t know what they’re doing. All of a sudden you feel a hard, wet pressure against your entrance. It has lips, hair, and flesh. Two doctors and four techs are working together to push something into you. You scream in shock and pain when the start pops into you, and you feel the large head off the foal enter you. Something cold and metallic is secured to your clitoris and turned on. The harsh vibrations send you crashing over the edge again and again. The resulting contractions and up-sucking force of the orgasm onslaught makes the process easier.  

With one long hard shove, the foal’s head rushes through your cervix. The neck follows, then the shoulders, and eventually the hips and feet. All that remains is the long plastic tube leading out of you and connecting to an oxygen concentrator.  

You hardly have time to catch your breath before they start pressing in the second foal. It’s a little easier this time, though they have to stop every few minutes and straighten out the two tubes to keep them from tangling. The added sensation brings more orgasms until you’re out of your own mind.  

At the end, you’re left on the table, alone. The sedative wears off, and the foals in you panic and begin to react accordingly. Their movement triggers the molting of the larvae. Through your skin, you can hear gurgling, hissing, and growling. The kicking off these post-birth foals is enough to leave nearly instant hoof-shaped bruises on your belly. As before, though, all of it settles down. Several hours later, the two plastic tubes slide out of you and land with a wet slap on the floor.  

You’re left on the table for the rest of the final week.  

Your labor comes suddenly without warning. No techs or doctors are brave enough to enter the room with the creatures ready to crawl out of your womb, so you’re simply in there, alone, to push out what you’ve been incubating for months.  

Luckily for you, it seems they do most of the work. Between your contractions, they crawl along with only their two knuckles exposed, dragging their shell through your entrance. The shells are compressed, making the creatures as small as possible, but as the first one reaches the end of your canal and slides out of the shell, you can tell they’re still nearly half your size each.  

The shells are too fragile to last in the air outside of you, so it gets stuck. It seems this is part of the process. The newly born creature cleans itself off, then turns to you, carefully nibbling away at its shell. Every so often, it digs its claws deep into you to pull it forward until it’s devoured out of you. Immediately, the next one begins working its way to freedom. The first born seeks out your overly swollen breast and attaches itself to your leaking nipple until its younger sibling finishes its own shell, and seeks out a nipple for its turn to drink. The first abandons you and curls up to rest against the wall.  

Each birth takes two or three hours. You catch naps between births, which you value greatly about the thirteenth hour of birthing.  

Nearly three days later, you lie exhausted and depleted on the table, surrounded by your twenty seven offspring that look every bit like their parents. You smile proudly to yourself for having gotten through all that. You’re glad it’s over and done.  

The creatures are soon lured into an adjacent room. When they’re all gone, the techs enter to fetch you.  

“That went well,” one said, patting your stretched stomach fondly. “They’re pleased with your performance. Looks like you’ll be doing this again next year.”

You have to say, you’re not sure you can wait that long.  

Twist of Fate (Pt 2)

Hey guys! Part 2 is finally here after days of procrastination and exams! I quite like the direction of the plot so far. It’s something I’ve never seen before which is nice. Hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 : Here

               Betty finally spoke out, praying for the moment to finally be over. Jughead’s face flushed red as he remembered she didn’t know her way around.

               "Sorry, sorry. Um, yeah it’s right through here.“ The beanie-clad boy stumbled over his words, eventually managing to form a coherent sentence. He looked over at his new roommate and noticed her eyes shining in amusement. They were walking past the open lounge area and into a hallway that consisted of 3 doors. One, that Betty assumed held residency of Jughead, had a large poster on the outside of "A Rebel Without a Cause”. Betty stopped, entranced by the poster.

               "You like “A Rebel Without a Cause”?“ She asked, studying the poster more thoroughly. It wasn’t a promotional poster, it looked like it was made for some place called the Twilight Drive-In. Betty had heard of that place, it was in the next town over called Greendale. She often went there and put in some suggestions but soon heard it got closed down due to lack of funding.

               "Yeah, I’m a sucker for the classics. Don’t get me wrong, Nicholas Ray did a great job. But I’m more of a Tarantino guy myself. I don’t know what is it but I find something so intoxicatingly beautiful about his work. It’s always a masterpiece, you can tell this guy loves what he does. I don’t know, I guess I just respect that. True art forms.” Jughead babbles on whilst Betty listened, intrigued by the topic. He was shocked that she hadn’t even looked the least bit bored. He’d never gotten this far before without either being told to shut up or boring people half to death.

               "I fully agree! As a kid I used to love “Pulp Fiction” but lately I’ve been more about the “Kill Bill” series. And although Tarantino is possibly the best director in this generation, I’ll always have a soft spot for Ray. I wish I could’ve lived in the 50s.“ Betty responds with enthusiasm and actual knowledge. Jughead is shocked. He can’t help but crack out a goofy grin, maybe this roommate wouldn’t be so unbearable. Although, nothing could be worse than Archie Andrews. "Also, is this from the Twilight Drive-In?” Betty thought it was a long shot but she had to ask, it was all too familiar.

               "Yeah, how did you know that?“ He quipped, wondering how on earth she knew the place he’d spent his entire childhood. Jughead was very defensive over his childhood. It was filled with a lot of heartbreak, betrayal and distrust. He was born into a house that lacked solidarity. His father was a raging alcoholic; his mother was a selfish, egotistical maniac that shouldn’t have been graced with the ability to reproduce. His sister was the only stability that Jughead could grasp on to. Jellybean was the only thing that he stuck around for.

               The drive-in was an important part of his childhood. He would sneak himself and JB through the back and into the crowd, just to spend at least an hour or two away from their parents. Jellybean never got enough sleep, neither did Jughead. The arguing, the smashing of fragile objects, the crying. Sometimes it got too much. His dad would come home one night, reeking of cheap booze and cigarette smoke, and then his mother would snap.

               The drive-in offered clarity and escape for the two children. Though it was short lived when social services caught the bruises on Jughead and the burns on JB. Nothing was said but the police knew what had been happening. The Jones name had a reputation in the town of Greendale. The family with the town drunk, the selfish bitch, the outcast boy and the sweet little girl. It wasn’t longer before both kids were put into the social system and separated.

               How he got the poster was another story. One he isn’t quite proud of but it needed to happen. When his 3rd foster family had refused to shelter him any further, he ran away. Jughead went back to Greendale. He didn’t know what he was expecting, he had been gone for 6 years and as a 16 year old he didn’t exactly look the same. He tried finding his parents and instead found a sight that broke his heart.

               At the drive-in, Jughead saw his father’s old truck. He aimlessly walked over, expecting to see him passed out in the back. But instead he saw his father who looked cleaned up and sober, his mother who was smiling, cuddled next to her husband. But the sight that broke his heart the most, Jellybean wrapped up in both of their arms, looking like a completely different kid.

               Jughead didn’t bother staying to watch the movie. Not even "A Rebel Without a Cause” could make him stay. He had been cheated, rejected and most importantly, he had been broken. Even his own family can’t stand to have him around. Ripping a poster from the wall, he made his way to a destination he was uncertain of. With hot tears stinging the frozen skin of his face, he wondered why no one had the capability to love him.

               "I used to go there all of the time as a teenager. I loved it there.“ Betty gushed, not turning to look at Jughead but instead focusing her attention on the poster. It’s not like Jughead kept it up there to torture himself, it was a powerful reminder that the past is the past . And although it may be painful, it helped us to get where we are now. Betty turned around to the door opposite Jughead’s, noticing the bright yellow post-it note on the door saying "Betty Cooper’s Room”. The handwriting was messy but Betty found it charming.

               "Ah, yeah. That’s your room. The room down the hall, just there, is my office.“ Jughead pushed open Betty’s door and helped her to carry her stuff inside. The room was moderately large. It was about the size of Betty’s room back home, maybe a tad larger. The walls were neatly painted a pastel green that looked almost white. It was furnished with all the necessities; a bed, a walk in wardrobe, a desk and a tall lamp tucked away in the corner. She seemed to have her own bathroom as well. A low set window sill was parallel to her bed, it was very wide. Betty already had ideas of all the aesthetic Instagram photos she could take. The view was incredible.

               "This room is beautiful. Are you sure the rent is high enough?” Betty stared, doe-eyed. Jughead didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell the truth, not yet. Instead he merely shrugged, offering her a boyish smirk. “That’s not exactly an answer Mr…” Betty trailed off, suddenly realizing she didn’t even know her own roommates last name. Then again, they had only met 10 minutes ago.

               "Jones. It’s Mr. Jones.“ Jughead offered, still smirking at the blonde haired girl stood in front of him. He looked down at his watch, noticing the time. "Well, I better leave you to unpack and get settled. It around 4 now so when do you want dinner?” He asked, opening the door wider to step through. Betty nodded, quickly throwing her backpack onto the ground before beaming up to him.

               "You cook?“ She asked, amusement evident on her features. At first, Jughead wanted to reply saying that he was forced to learn due to his prior parents being a waste of space. Instead he settled with a wink.

               "I can do a lot Cooper. Eating food is a huge hobby of mine.” He threw back, chuckling slightly. Betty returned with a small giggle and unzipped her suitcase, pulling out items of clothing and packing them into the wardrobe. She seemed to have a lot of clothes, this reminded him of Veronica almost instantly.

               "I’m a good cook too. How about I start packing now and come help you at around 6? It can be a roommate bonding session.“ Betty joked, disappearing and reappearing whilst putting her stuff away in various locations. He statement make Jughead’s heart swell. He didn’t know this girl but she seemed nice enough. He truly did believe they were going to get on just fine. Maybe he could add another member to the Scooby gang. Which, at the moment, only consisted of him, Archie and Veronica.

               "Sure, Cooper.” Betty poked her tongue out playfully at his remark, watching him pace out of the room. She continued packing but at a faster rate this time. A huge part of her couldn’t wait for 6 o'clock. Jughead walked into the lounge and threw himself onto the couch next to Archie, who was playing Fallout 4 on the 65" flat screen Jughead got gifted last year.

               "How’s the new roommate? Lasting well without me and Ronnie?“ Archie’s eyes were glued to the screen but Jughead could tell he was teasing. Slapping his arm softly, he was about to reply when the front door swung open. Stood in a navy blue dress, obviously accompanied with pearls, was the raven-haired princess Jughead learned to love. She had a huge grin spread across her deep red lips, her eyebrows raised in anticipation. Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.

               "Where’s this new roommate I’ve heard so much about, Juggiekins?” She too teased, coming over to embrace him in a hug, placing a firm kiss on his cheek. Instinctively, he wiped his cheek which only making Veronica smirk. Betty heard someone come in and decided to check out who it was. Little did she know what kind of surprise would be hitting her.

               As soon as she walked into the room and saw Veronica, her heart stopped beating. God seems to have graced Betty with one of the greatest gifts she could’ve asked for. It seemed almost too good to be true at this point. When Veronica spun around the meet Betty’s gaze, her jaw fell. Her lips were parted and both girls stood in shock. Jughead and Archie sat, confused at what was happening.

               "Ronnie?“ Betty beamed hopefully. The next few seconds were a blur, The girls ran towards each other at full force, knocking them both onto the ground. They were hugging whilst loudly crying and muffling incoherent words. Jughead was beyond confused by now. How did they know each other? After what felt like forever, the girls separated. Both were crying yet smiling so happily.

               "I can’t believe you’re here. This is so crazy!” Ronnie cried out, pulled Betty into another hug. Archie was about to speak up until Ronnie pulled back again. “Boys, this is my long-time internet friend, Betty Cooper. We lost touch sometime last year but, oh god am I glad to see you.” Veronica explained. “We have so much to catch up on, come on!” In an instant both girls were at their feet, running into Betty’s room and closing the door.

               "Wait. I’m confused. So your new roommate is best friends with your sister?“ Archie whispered quietly, not wanting the girls to hear. Jughead was still in a state of shock. How had he never known about Veronica knowing Betty? At dinner he’d always heard her babble on about this friend she had but he never listened. Now he’s starting to wish he did.

               "Don’t ask me pal, we’re in the same boat.” He spoke out, still bewildered. How is it that the girl he chooses out of 50 other applicants, just happens to be his sister’s best friend? That’s not a coincidence, that’s the work of the lord above.

               Jughead didn’t want Betty to know that Veronica was his family. It’d bring up too much personal family stuff for their friendship at the moment. In time, he wants to share everything about himself. Who he really is, his job, his family, his aspirations. But right now, the story was far too complicated and Jughead was in no frame of mine to give that out.

               He reminisced about the past. The heartbreak after the drive in, the weeks alone in the cold, Hiram Lodge spotting him sleeping behind a dumpster in Brooklyn. He was on the brink of death but the Lodge’s took him in, treated him like a son. They fed him, built up his strength and gave him a warm place to sleep. Jughead was forever in their favor. It wasn’t long before the adoption occurred and Jughead was officially Forsythe Jones-Lodge. Though he preferred to go by Jones. He may hate his family but Jones is more fitting for such an obscure name.

               "Maybe it won’t be so bad. Betty doesn’t seem like the type to judge. Just tell her about the past and tell her about the Blue and Gold. Stop building up walls and refusing to knock them down.“ His red headed friend squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Jughead couldn’t though. The sad look in Archie’s eye only proved that Arch didn’t believe he could either. It takes time to trust. Even if he feels like Betty will be different, he didn’t want her to be his reckoning.

I hope you all enjoyed this part 2! It’s slightly longer but not as long as I’d like it to be! After I get my exams out of the way I’ll be able to write more! These two weeks cannot come fast enough. As always, feedback is very much appreciated and it warmed my heart to see how many of you loved part 1! There’s gonna be a lot more!

((Subtle plug but my asks are open too if anyone wants to send in prompts for a one shot or just generally wants to talk! I don’t bite ;P))

**PART 3 : here **

In this stunning picture of the giant galactic nebula NGC 3603, the crisp resolution of NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope captures various stages of the life cycle of stars in one single view.

To the upper right of center is the evolved blue supergiant called Sher 25. The star has a unique circumstellar ring of glowing gas that is a galactic twin to the famous ring around the supernova 1987A. The grayish-bluish color of the ring and the bipolar outflows (blobs to the upper right and lower left of the star) indicates the presence of processed (chemically enriched) material.

Near the center of the view is a so-called starburst cluster dominated by young, hot Wolf-Rayet stars and early O-type stars. A torrent of ionizing radiation and fast stellar winds from these massive stars has blown a large cavity around the cluster.

The most spectacular evidence for the interaction of ionizing radiation with cold molecular-hydrogen cloud material are the giant gaseous pillars to the right and lower left of the cluster. These pillars are sculptured by the same physical processes as the famous pillars Hubble photographed in the M16 Eagle Nebula.

Dark clouds at the upper right are so-called Bok globules, which are probably in an earlier stage of star formation.

To the lower left of the cluster are two compact, tadpole-shaped emission nebulae. Similar structures were found by Hubble in Orion, and have been interpreted as gas and dust evaporation from possibly protoplanetary disks (proplyds). The “proplyds” in NGC 3603 are 5 to 10 times larger in size and correspondingly also more massive.

This single view nicely illustrates the entire stellar life cycle of stars, starting with the Bok globules and giant gaseous pillars, followed by circumstellar disks, and progressing to evolved massive stars in the young starburst cluster. The blue supergiant with its ring and bipolar outflow marks the end of the life cycle.

The color difference between the supergiant’s bipolar outflow and the diffuse interstellar medium in the giant nebula dramatically visualizes the enrichment in heavy elements due to synthesis of heavier elements within stars.

This true-color picture was taken on March 5, 1999 with the Wide Field Planetary Camera 2.

This picture is being presented at the 194th Meeting of the American Astronomical Society in Chicago.

Object Names: NGC 3603, Sher 25

Image Type: Astronomical

Credit: Wolfgang Brandner (JPL/IPAC), Eva K. Grebel (Univ. Washington), You-Hua Chu (Univ. Illinois Urbana-Champaign), and NASA

Time And Space

80, 20, 5

I’ve often mentioned the general breakdown of games player bases as 80%, 20%, and 5%. 80% of players will never engage with anything beyond the game itself. 20% will actually bother to go online and read something about the game, and a mere 5% will be engaged so much as to actually bother to post and communicate with other players. A lot of the really invested players won’t accept this, and with good reason. Just look at all the posts on the forums (or subreddit or whatever). There’s thousands of them! On a busy patch day, the front page will be slammed with posts. There’s no way this is only 5% (or less) of the game’s population, right? Surely there’s more than that!

Or is there? 

Keep reading