mddlbro

[mddlbro]

LITERALLY not even a few words in and I'm already ✨ LOSING IT ✨ HAHA! Yuki, you are absolutely spoiling me with these top-tier recs and I am LIVING for it. Can't wait to devour them!! And YES, Jaku baybey, gimme that long overdue Jakuramu reconciliation or I'll riot. 😤

@mddlbro from here

Glad to help!! Now that I'm thinking about it, there's also a ramuda and jakurai and dice fic that I also adore but there is medical stuff in there just as a warning!! As a last gift this reddit-style gendice fic is really funny to me I adore it and the usernames. Have fun!!

[mddlbro]

🍭🎲

[mddlbro]

Inktober day 12: warm love <3

[mddlbro]

Dice sat there for a moment, chewing on his thoughts, letting Ramuda's quiet words settle in his mind like the final note of a long, drawn-out song. He'd always thought Ramuda was tougher than this—hell, the guy was practically invincible in Dice's eyes. But hearing him talk about how it didn't hurt as much anymore made Dice's chest tighten, as if someone was squeezing the air out of him. It wasn't the relief he expected to feel when Ramuda agreed not to talk about it—no, it was something more complicated. That ache, that unspoken weight, how long had Ramuda been carrying it alone? The thought gnawed at him. The guy had never asked for much, never really let anyone in, and Dice couldn't help but wonder how much of that pain had been buried beneath everything else. He wanted so badly to fix it, to make it go away, to somehow turn back time and make sure Ramuda never had to hurt like that in the first place.

But then Ramuda asked for a bath, and it caught him off guard. Dice blinked, blinking a few more times like he could clear the fog from his mind. A bath? It was such a simple request, so... normal. His gut twisted in a strange way. Maybe he was just overthinking things, but there was something deeper behind it. It wasn't about the bath itself; it was about Ramuda feeling safe enough to ask for something like that. Something that wasn't about survival or putting on a facade. And hell, it wasn't like they hadn't bathed together before, just not like this—no crowds, no rush, just the two of them. Dice grinned, forcing the edge off the tension in his chest, and nodded, his voice softer than usual. "Yeah, let's do it. Hot water sounds like a damn good idea." He could already feel the warmth of the water in his mind, could almost hear the soft swish of it surrounding them, washing away whatever weight had been hanging in the air.

The thought of helping Ramuda, making sure he felt cared for, didn't feel strange. Dice had always been the kind of guy to step up, especially when someone needed him. And maybe that's what Ramuda needed right now—someone who wouldn't make this weird, wouldn't treat it like a burden. Just normal. Just him, looking out for his friend, the way he always had. "Just let me put the leftovers away and start the bath, and I'll come get you, okay?" Dice stood up and made his way to the kitchen, his mind still swirling with everything Ramuda had said, but his body moving on autopilot. It felt right, taking the steps to make sure Ramuda was taken care of. When the bath was ready, Dice returned, scooping Ramuda up carefully, treating him like he was something precious even if he didn't have to say it aloud. Setting him down on the bath stool, Dice didn't hesitate for a second before asking, "You need help getting out of your clothes?" His voice was steady, calm, like this was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was.

It was still so odd, to be comforted this much. The contrast to how he used to be treated was far too obvious, Ramuda giving a soft smile. He still remembered being just shoved aside, any and all efforts ignored while failures were heavily punished. So it was a little odd to be praised just for finishing his food, but it wasn't a bad feeling either. At the question he did pause a little, having to actually think about just how he really felt.

''It doesn't hurt as much anymore.''

More just a dull ache now than the searing pain he was used to, he was quick to just get comfy again. Being held like this just made him feel so safe, almost falling asleep until he was offered some more food. Well, it wouldn't kill him, slowly nibbling up the bite offered to him. Of course it was cold, but that didn't exactly bother him when he was used to far worse meal qualities. Just cuddled up against Dice, enjoying the warmth, he listened to his words.

Human enough, huh? It was true he wasn't like the clones, it was what caused him all that additional pain, but he never really thought much about their other differences. The main one of course being their eyes, what always made him so uneasy when he met one of them. While his own eyes were full of life, theirs were more like glass. Empty, showing no sign of life really. Shuddering just from recalling what they looked like, he tried to think of other things instead. Like the fairly gross feeling he finally noted.

''Hey, before we sleep, can we go have a bath? My body feels kinda gross after everything, and I don't really like it.''

Plus it would ensure he didn't have any dried blood on him anywhere. Even if someone noticed it could be shrugged off as just paint, but that didn't mean he wanted any on him. And splashing around in some hot water sounded nice and relaxing too, maybe even with an added bonus of getting to wash Dice's hair.

[mddlbro]

They’re soulmates your honor !!🥺

[mddlbro]

Yumeno-sensei & Daisu-nyan

[mddlbro]

Dice hadn't exactly planned on getting drunk tonight. But, hell, with the constant thrum of his heart every time the brunette was near, and the fact that he had to confront all these feelings for Gentaro—feelings that had been building for far too long, a battle of suppressing and pretending not to feel—it was inevitable. Sure, he'd always tried to keep his emotions locked down, buried under layers of indifference. But tonight? Tonight, the alcohol was quick and the stomach was empty. Things got slippery. And now, here he was, tipsy, flushed, on the edge of doing things he'd never do sober.

His hands, all clumsy warmth and longing, hovered near Gentaro's waist. They squeezed, just lightly, but the pressure was a little too much, a little too needy. Dice couldn't stop himself from tracing the curve of Gentaro's back, sliding his hands up, then down again, the touch rougher now, only slightly. He wanted Gentaro to feel it. Wanted Gentaro to know. But these damn clothes—so many layers. So much between them. It was maddening. He wanted to feel more, but there were just too many barriers.

He let out a soft, frustrated huff, resting his hands again on Gentaro's waist, defeated. God, he could feel the heat from Gentaro's body, could feel his own pulse throbbing beneath his skin, but something wasn't clicking. Or maybe it was just him. Drunk, emotional, too aware of every little detail.

Then Gentaro spoke, and Dice—God—he was a fool, wasn't he? The warmth of Gentaro's touch made his chest rumble with a laugh, soft and teasing, something between a chuckle and a growl, but light, like they were both dancing around something. He wasn't stupid, not really. He knew exactly what Gentaro meant. But still, the alcohol gave him this strange freedom to flirt, to lean in just a little too close.

"Strange ideas, huh?" Dice mused, the smirk pulling at his lips like a reflex, though his voice wobbled just a bit. "If strange ideas are on the table..." He pressed closer, almost too close, purring the words "I'm~ all~ in~," out against Gentaro's neck collar. The laugh didn't help, probably made it sound like a joke, but in that moment? Dice didn't care.

The warmth in his eyes, that usual mischief, had something else too—something softer. Gentaro couldn't see it though, not with his face buried so close, resting against Gentaro's neck like he was trying to stay grounded in the moment. The touch of his thumbs, tracing circles on Gentaro's waist, was slow. Deliberate, but also just... there, like he didn't want this moment to slip away. Not just yet. Not until something clicked. Until he clicked.

When Gentaro asked about sobriety, that grin deepened, but there was something unfamiliar there—some flicker of hesitation in his gaze. Dice wasn't used to that. Not when he was in control, when he was the one throwing out the challenges. He let the silence stretch, then just as the brunette did, leaned in slightly, letting his breath warm Gentaro's ear.

"Hmm... when I'm sober?" His voice dropped, thick and teasing. "Well, I guess I could ask you a lot of things, but I've always been more of a show kind of guy, Gentaro." His lips barely brushed Gentaro's ear as he added, "But maybe we could roll for it. If you're bold enough."

The challenge was out there now, hanging between them. Dice raised his head, meeting Gentaro's gaze, but his fingers slid, almost by accident, over Gentaro's hand, brushing lightly against the accessory he was fiddling with. He didn't mean it to be purposeful—well, maybe he did. Maybe he wanted it to be. But it wasn't yet. Not fully.

There was a tension in the air. A hum of something unspoken. And Dice, for all his bravado, wasn't making a move just yet. Not until he understood what it was that Gentaro was thinking, what they were both feeling. Until they were both ready. So for now, he stayed there, leaning in close enough that the space between them seemed to pulse with all the questions they hadn't asked yet.

"Well," Gentaro says, voice softer than he would've liked. "Ramuda wouldn't be drunk when he hugs me, would he?"

He's certainly never seen their dear leader anywhere close to Dice's drunken state. Perhaps that's by design, considering that Ramuda is a fan of alcohol. Ah, but now's not the time to theorize about the mysteries surrounding their leader.

Now is for trying to keep the warmth in his chest from spreading to his cheeks. Dice is close--far too close, too intimate for Gentaro to maintain any form of playful distance. This close, Gentaro can smell Dice's scent, as well as the alcohol in his breath. Goodness, how much did he drink?

He places his freed hands on Dice's shoulders, almost tempted to push him away. But truly, he doubts he could do that. Not only because of their difference in strength, but because... well, it's been far too long that someone had hugged him this intimately.

... And he certainly doesn't dislike it.

"If you keep up with this, I might get strange ideas, you know?" The words escape in a murmur, existing briefly in the narrow space between them. The phone is considered as a question, but quickly discarded. It's not only Dice that craves for this, it seems.

To assume otherwise would be lying to himself. He's certainly not that oblivious.

"So, Daisu..." Gentaro reaches up, twirling his finger around Dice's hair accessory. He doesn't pull away. His words are a gentle sigh, brushing against the shell of Dice's ear. "Is there something you want to ask me when you're sober?"

Liquid courage--isn't that another term for alcohol? Though he's not drunk, he's also not unaffected.

"... Or is there something you want me to ask you when you're sober...?"

[mddlbro]

short, angsty scenario prompts list for your angsty needs tws for drowning, injuries, illness

( yell ) : our muses get into a loud, heated argument 

( splash ) : one muse rescues the other from drowning 

( console ) : one muse finds the other sobbing uncontrollably 

( cold ) : one muse finds the other frozen half to death outside 

( hungry ) : one muse finds the other malnourished and hungry 

( lost ) : one muse has broken / lost something important to the other

( injured ) : one muse finds the other wounded and tries to help them

( trauma ) : one muse finds the other just after a traumatizing experience 

( illness ) : one muse is severely ill and the other finds them in a rough state 

( guard ) : one muse protects the other from someone who wants to hurt them

( tired ) : one muse finds the other so exhausted they’re having trouble standing 

( ground ) : one muse finds the other having a panic attack and helps ground them

( loss ) : one muse has just suffered a tragedy and comes to the other muse for comfort

[mddlbro]

sometimes images pop in my head and I draw them

this is one of those times 🤺💥

[mddlbro]

Deidara and Sasori as that one Tbhk offical art ^^ parody drawn by me

^ The original by AidaIro on X/Twitter

[mddlbro]

Deidara stood there, frozen in place, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat. Sasori's verse had hit him harder than he expected. The words didn't just strike his ears—they hit his very soul, digging deep into the core of his being, making him feel them, taste them, like a venomous sting that was paralyzing his mind and body. His knees wobbled slightly, as if the ground itself beneath him had suddenly become quicksand, pulling him deeper and deeper into this feeling of intense... intimidation.

But Deidara wasn't a fool, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let this Scorpio guy take him down with just one verse. No. His eyes flickered, his fingers trembling, still locked in the faintest trace of shock. Sasori was... he was a force unlike anything Deidara had ever encountered before. No other rapper had ever made him feel so small, so weak, so powerless. And yet, there was something about that power—something thrilling that sent a rush through his veins.

Deidara couldn't help but smirk, a dangerous, twisted grin curling his lips. He was trembling—but not out of fear. No. This... this was excitement. He was eager now, more than he had ever been. This was no mere battle. This was something greater, something real. Sasori had made a mistake. He'd shown Deidara exactly how high the stakes were.

The humming of the beat echoed in his skull, steady, relentless, as his breathing deepened, calming his nerves. In. Out. In. Out. He focused on the rhythm of his own body, the rise and fall of his chest, the sensation of air filling his lungs. Slowly, deliberately, he wiggled his fingers—trembling at first, barely able to move them... but then, with the quiet crack of a joint, his thumb and index finger popped into place. His fingers were coming back to life, his knuckles cracking one by one, until a sharp snap came from his pinkie. The pain jolted through his body, a stark reminder that he was in control.

The effect of Sasori's mic? Gone.

A deep breath in, a quick exhale, and Deidara's body was alive again, fully conscious, fully aware. He grabbed his own Hypnosis Mic with an intensity that burned in his hand, the weight of it familiar now, as his eyes gleamed with renewed fire.

His mic pulsed to life, cracking open like clay. The sound of his clay working its magic was the only thing he needed. He could feel the clay molding, shifting around him, creating. It was an explosion of energy, a force that reverberated from deep inside his chest, his mind. His mic transformed, stretching and twisting into the shape of a eccentric clay bird, wings unfurled and eyes glowing with heat, crackling with fire. Around him, monstrous clay insects and feathered creatures began to appear, their wings snapping and rustling, filling the air with a roar of lifelike wings flapping.

The words left his mouth, his voice ringing through the mic, with the crackling hum of energy that pulsed from his creation.

🎵 "You call yourself superior, but you're just a show-off, Sputtering venomous lies like it's a turnoff, I'm C-4 Vandal, ready to detonate your pride, Watch your world explode when my rhymes collide!" 🎶

The clay birds shrieked as they flapped their wings, creating a gust of wind that sent ripples through the air. Boom. There was a crackle of energy as the creatures launched into the sky, leaving fiery trails behind it. A brilliant illusion of explosions rang out in the distance, the force of it sending tremors through the ground.

But Deidara wasn't done. No, this battle was far from over.

He raised the mic again, fingers clenching tighter, and with a confident sneer, he let the next verse flow, his eyes narrowing as he shot Sasori a challenge he wasn't about to back down from.

🎵 "I'm the master of the sky, the clay's my command, Your sting is weak compared to my bomb-filled hand, I'm the king of explosions, watch the chaos unfold, My art is ephemeral, just like the fire I hold!" 🎶

The ground shook beneath him, as more clay birds erupted from the earth, soaring above them. The illusion was powerful now—overwhelming—his clay insects dancing in a deadly symphony around Sasori.

Deidara's gaze locked with Sasori's. He had never been so alive. Not in a battle, not in anything. Sasori was no mere opponent—he was a force. And Deidara would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Not this time. He would fight with everything he had, not underestimating Sasori, not ever again. No, today, he would leave this battle knowing that he had risen to the challenge.

He did not appreciate being interrupted, or that tone... but allowed Deidara space to speak his piece. That might seem surprising coming from him, but even more so was how quiet he's gotten - almost eerily so.

If anyone thought he was feeling nervous or cornered, then they were fooled.

While the mention of art did catch his interest, casting a similar glint of enthusiasm in his eyes, Sasori maintained the impassive expression for the most part as Deidara circled him, meeting his gaze once he's finally in front of him. And after a brief moment of silence, he released a low chuckle.

"Are you done..?" All bark and no bite, he's dealt with these types way too many times, not wasting another second as he pulled out his Hypnosis Microphone.

"This is stupid... but I guess it can't be helped. I'll indulge you with a verse, even though there's nothing inherently artistic about a rap battle."

He turned on his mic, and it changed form into a lapel mic in the appearance of a scorpion, in which he attached to his jacket collar. His speakers followed suit, all connected together to form a large scorpion's tail swaying ominously behind him. And the beat swiftly began - sharp and shrill like a venomous sting with quick percussions getting the heart pounding and breath short, while the paralyzing lyrics aim to leave a lasting impact on the target's mind...

"🎵 Go ahead, run your mouth like the typical upstart, Are you ready for the truth? Don't take it to heart; Think we're on par, brat, first meet the criteria, Till then take a bow before your superior; Just a vandal forever gloating in your 15-second fame, Like a time bomb, all fleeting, play that eternal game of shame. 🎶"

[mddlbro]

make this picrew of yourself take this uquiz

Tagged by @shouga-nai Tagging: Anyone!

[mddlbro]

Sorry to those I've left hanging ꃋᴖꃋ I've been in a major funk lately, and these 10-hour shifts are doing absolutely nothing to help 🫠 But I'm finally feeling the urge to write today! Gonna be lurking and knocking out replies tonight. hmu if you wanna chat or send me memes to keep me sane 💀

/negative tw in the tags

[mddlbro]

that's all for the spicy posts, folks. i— i gotta head to bed now, conveniently.

[mddlbro]

🧠 the way Gentaro’s pants ride up when he’s running or sitting a certain way, revealing his delicate ankles… (@ dice lol)

Send 🧠 + an intrusive thought for my muse to have, and they'll react to having it!

Ahh, this was dangerous.

Dice had been sitting in Ramuda's studio, half-listening to Gentaro on the phone with his editor, but his eyes… they weren't where they should be. No, his gaze was locked onto Gentaro. Of course it was Gentaro. How could he not? The man was, well, gorgeous. Dice's heart was thudding against his chest like a drumbeat as he watched Gentaro sink into the couch, those long legs shifting, those pants—those loose hakama-pants—riding up just a little.

Dice's breath hitched. And there it was. That perfect, delicate, smooth ankle. The skin, so soft-looking, it practically begged for attention. No way. Dice's mouth went dry as his eyes stayed locked on it, almost hypnotized. How could something as small as an ankle make him feel like his whole body was on fire? His heart raced, his cheeks flushed slightly, and his fingers twitched like they were just begging to reach out and—oh, he could already imagine how soft it would feel under his touch.

It was the angle, really. Gentaro's pants had ridden up just enough for him to get a glimpse of that beautiful skin. A perfect ankle, smooth and flawless. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Dice just had to steal another glance. One more. Gentaro was too busy talking to someone else, right? He wouldn't notice—he wouldn't—

But then, Gentaro shifted again, pulling his legs underneath him as he adjusted himself on the couch, and—snap—he looked up. Dice froze, caught in the act of staring. Oh, no. No, no, no. His eyes were wide, heart hammering in his chest. He scrambled to recover, standing up too quickly, almost tripping over his own feet.

"Uh, hey, uh, I think I'm gonna step outside for a smoke," Dice blurted, his voice almost a squeak as he hurried toward the door. He had to get out of here, now.

Thank god Ramuda wasn't in the room—if he had seen that, Dice would've died of embarrassment. And Gentaro, he was still sitting there, looking at him with that look. Dice could feel his face burning as he pushed the door open and slipped outside, his pulse still racing.

Oh my god, his ankles...

[mddlbro]

continued: ʚ🍨ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Normally, Dice would have found Ramuda's endless chatter about his fashion designer talk tiresome, but recently, something has shifted. He enjoys listening to him talk, even when it's the same story over and over again, even when he knows Ramuda is likely trying to trip him up. With a soft, dreamy gaze, Dice is completely absorbed in his friend's passion, watching how Ramuda's eyes light up and how animated he becomes. He doesn't catch every little detail, but it doesn't matter. The enthusiasm is contagious.

"You look.. kinda cool right now, Ramuda. ..It's like when people talk about something they're really passionate about and you can see it on their face. I think it's pretty cool." Dice murmurs, his voice warm with affection, a smile tugging at his lips.

But then, Ramuda leans in with that mischievous gleam in his eyes, saying something that Dice is sure is an innuendo. Dice's face flushes, his mind immediately going to what kind of hunger Ramuda meant. And then the punchline comes—ice cream. Oh, right, ice cream. That cheeky little tease! Making his heart race on purpose like that.

Dice's smile falters when he thinks about his wallet, and he can almost hear the mocking clink of coins inside. He nervously scratches the back of his neck and glances down.

"Uh… Ramuda, about that… I'm kind of broke right now," he admits with an awkward laugh. "But I can grab some cheap ice cream from the konbini, if you're okay with that? ...Or, uh, you—" He scratches his cheek, hesitating before continuing with a fake bravado. "You can eat me."

He quickly backtracks, embarrassment flooding him. "THAT'S A LINE I HEARD from Gentaro's new novel! Was I convincing? Did I make your heart race?" He waves his hands dismissively, turning bright red as he quickly looks away. "I'll go get the ice cream from the konbini, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, he bolts for the door, avoiding eye contact, the heat in his face burning even hotter.