#and there's the mechanics of the situation

[thepeacefulgarden]

[astroismypassion]

How to interpret your Moon Persona chart 🌙 🌗🌛

Credit @astroismypassion

You can interpret your Moon Persona chart by yourself as well! Here's how! 😊

A Moon Persona Chart is a type of Persona chart in astrology that provides deeper insights into your emotional world, how you see your family, your mother, your past emotional habits and how you instinctively react to life.

Here’s how to interpret each planet in a Moon Persona Chart:

The focal point of the chart, Ascendant in the Moon Persona Chart

The Ascendant represents:

Your emotional outer self – How you instinctively express emotions outwardly and how others perceive your emotional energy.

Your emotional defense mechanisms – How you protect yourself emotionally, especially in new or uncomfortable situations.

Your emotional approach to life – The lens through which you experience emotions and react to your inner world.

Interpreting the Ascendant by Sign:

Aries Rising – Direct, impulsive, and passionate emotional responses. May react quickly to emotions but cool down just as fast. Taurus Rising – Grounded, slow to react emotionally, but deeply attached. Needs stability and comfort to feel emotionally safe. Gemini Rising – Communicative and curious about emotions. Processes feelings through talking, writing, or intellectualizing. Cancer Rising – Deeply sensitive and protective of emotions. Can come off as nurturing but also defensive or withdrawn. Leo Rising – Expressive and dramatic about emotions. Wears emotions on their sleeve and seeks validation in emotional matters. Virgo Rising – Analytical and reserved in emotional expression. Tries to rationalize emotions rather than openly feeling them. Libra Rising – Balances emotions through relationships and harmony. Can struggle with emotional indecisiveness or people-pleasing. Scorpio Rising – Intense and secretive emotional energy. Deep, transformative emotions that are not easily shared with others. Sagittarius Rising – Optimistic, adventurous emotional approach. Finds comfort in freedom and philosophical exploration of feelings. Capricorn Rising – Reserved and serious emotional nature. Takes emotions seriously but may suppress vulnerability. Aquarius Rising – Detached and intellectual approach to emotions. Values independence but can struggle with deep emotional intimacy. Pisces Rising – Highly intuitive and emotionally porous. Can absorb others’ emotions and needs spiritual/emotional boundaries.

Sun Represents your core emotional identity and how you express your emotions. Shows what truly makes you feel emotionally fulfilled and safe. The sign and house indicate how you find emotional confidence and stability.

Moon This is the most important planet in the chart, showing your emotional core. It reveals how you experience emotions on a deep, subconscious level. Helps you understand how you instinctively react to different situations. More insight into how you see your mother.

Mercury Reflects how you process and communicate emotions. Shows how you express your feelings verbally and intellectually. Indicates whether you analyze emotions logically or react impulsively.

Venus Describes how you seek comfort, love, and pleasure on an emotional level. Shows how you express affection and your emotional needs in relationships. Indicates what brings you emotional harmony and how you nurture yourself.

Mars Shows how you act on your emotions and assert your needs. Represents how you handle anger, passion, and emotional conflicts. Indicates your instinctive reactions when emotionally provoked.

Jupiter Represents emotional expansion, optimism, and what brings you emotional growth. Shows where you find emotional abundance and joy. Can indicate how you seek wisdom and spiritual fulfillment.

Saturn Reflects emotional discipline, fears, and emotional maturity. Shows where you feel emotionally restricted or need to develop resilience. Indicates past emotional wounds and how you build emotional stability.

Uranus Represents emotional independence and where you seek freedom. Indicates sudden emotional shifts or unconventional emotional needs. Can show rebellion or detachment in emotional responses.

Neptune Reveals dreams, illusions, and spiritual connections in your emotional world. Indicates sensitivity, intuition, and emotional idealism. Can show where you may experience emotional confusion or escapism.

Pluto Represents emotional transformation and deep subconscious patterns. Shows where you experience emotional power struggles or intense growth. Can indicate deep emotional healing or past emotional traumas.

North Node & South Node North Node: Where you are meant to emotionally evolve. South Node: Past emotional habits and comfort zones that may hold you back.

Credit @astroismypassion

[chez-cinnamon]

YO UR ZOMBIE FIGHT CLUB LOOKS FIRE 🤩🤩🤩 (could we maybe get sm lore :3?) (adore ur art as always 💥🫶)

EEE THANK UUU !! And sure !! :D

Zombie Fight Club is set in a technologically advanced alternate Earth where a zombie outbreak is caused thanks to a new and highly dangerous steroid that was given to athletes and back alley fight clubs in order to improve their performance. A couple years later, while the rich live their lives peacefully in large domes protected from the hoards, the rest live in modified cities and towns to stay out of harm's way. A common pastime for these people is the leagues of Zombie Fight Clubs that have opened up - pit fighting between zombies and humans with mechanical enhancements and weapons. A world full of bets, deaths and illegal procedures in an effort to reach the top and maybe make it to the big leagues in the domes.

However a new and intriguing occurrence is taking place; a surge of mutated zombies have risen up in numbers, likely a mutation from the steroid itself. While stronger, larger and faster, possessing unique powers, they also seem to be more aware of their situation unlike regular zombies. They can feel pain, communicate and show emotion. Due to this they have been referred to as "Half Dead".

The story focuses on a group within a collective of survivors and fight club members alike. The first is a young woman named Mattie - stoic, to the point and stubborn, she's a mechanical natural who works at the city's fight club as mechanic. Having lost her father to a surprise attack, she views all undead with disgust and rage, taking pleasure seeing them getting their heads beaten in.

But her views start to change upon the introduction of the second character: a massive muscular Half Dead that she captures to test enhancements on her. Due to her mocking her about living a more "lavish" life in a cage unlike other undead, she was given the ironic name "Princess". Like Mattie she is jaded and grumpy, lashing out and only being cooperative in hopes to be fed good quality meat.

I'll probably make a better intro post for them and the other characters so I hope this is satisfactory !!

[masterheartsxiii]

See this is where even as a trump hater and realist towards the fascist system, this is panic. The constitution isn’t going to vanish, the Elon musk video won’t vanish. You’ve heard the adage “the internet is forever” that’s still true. There are thousands. THOUSANDS of copies of the constitution, in both print and digital form. Mass production of all of these. Archived far more secure than your desktop. I know it’s a coping mechanism, to feel some sort of control over a situation that feels out of control, but this is the kind of thing that keeps your nerves firing on all cylinders deep into the night. Save it for when you’re hiding real refugees if such a time comes. You need your strength, sapping it in this kind of panic will do no good to you long run.

i have a folder in my computer called "just in case" where i have important documents saved, like the constitution (since trump REMOVED IT from whitehouse.gov) and books that might get banned

im obviously going to add more, if anyone has any reccomendations please let me know. just wanted to share because i think its a good idea going into these next 4+ years.

EDIT i've also added a clip of elon doing the nazi salute because its taken down a lot of places and likely will be removed everywhere. as well as screenshots of what happened when you searched "presidents in order" (it did not show biden) and "president from 2020-2024" (it showed trump) but have since been fixed

[literaryvein-reblogs]

are there any tips you have on writing a stockholm syndrome relationship?

Writing Notes: Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm Syndrome - A mental and emotional response in which a captive (e.g., a hostage) displays seeming loyalty to—even affection for—the captor.

The captive may come to see law enforcement or rescuers as the enemy because they endanger the captor.

The name derives from the case of a woman who was held hostage in 1973 during a bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden, and became so emotionally attached to one of the robbers that she broke her engagement to another man and remained faithful to her former captor during his prison term.

Coined by Swedish psychiatrist and criminologist Nils Bejerot (1921–1988).

Psychologists who have studied the syndrome believe that the bond is initially created when:

a captor threatens a captive’s life,

deliberates, and then

chooses not to kill the captive.

The captive’s relief at the removal of the death threat is transposed into feelings of gratitude toward the captor for giving him or her life.

As the Stockholm bank robbery incident proves, it takes only a few days for this bond to cement, proving that, early on, the victim’s desire to survive trumps the urge to hate the person who created the situation.

The survival instinct is at the heart of the Stockholm syndrome.

Victims live in enforced dependence and interpret rare or small acts of kindness in the midst of horrible conditions as good treatment.

They often become hypervigilant to the needs and demands of their captors, making psychological links between the captors’ happiness and their own.

Indeed, the syndrome is marked not only by a positive bond between captive and captor but also by a negative attitude on behalf of the captive toward authorities who threaten the captor-captive relationship.

The negative attitude is especially powerful when the hostage is of no use to the captors except as leverage against a third party, as has often been the case with political hostages.

Survivors of Stockholm syndrome report developing positive feelings toward their captors despite the threat to their lives (Graham et al., 1995).

Stockholm syndrome is a form of trauma bonding. However, while both involve a paradoxical attachment to a source of harm and fear, trauma bonding is more commonly rooted in repeated abusive interactions (Dutton & Painter, 1981), whereas Stockholm syndrome emerges from acute, life-threatening captivity (Graham et al., 1995).

By the 21st century, psychologists had expanded their understanding of the Stockholm syndrome from hostages to other groups, including victims of domestic violence, cult members, prisoners of war, procured prostitutes, and abused children.

The American Psychiatric Association does not include Stockholm syndrome in its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).

POSSIBLE CAUSES. It is not completely understood why Stockholm syndrome happens. Some researchers suggest that it is a survival mechanism in which further harm is mitigated by the victim showing compliance and gratitude. Another theory states that a victim’s gratitude is established after their abuser or captor perpetuates fear without actually harming the victim.

IN FICTION. Given its shaky origins and lack of clinical recognition, Stockholm Syndrome is part of the field of pop-culture, not the field of psychology.

In fiction, the idea of a captive falling in love with their captor is a popular one, and has been since long before the 1973 Norrmalmstorg robbery.

Many of these stories feel forced, starting with captivity and jumping straight to love.

The most realistic depictions include not only the kindnesses, but also the extended time needed, and clear isolation from outside influences.

Some Related Tropes

Abduction Is Love: The invoked version, where someone does a kidnapping with the goal of forming a relationship with their captive.

A Match Made in Stockholm: Two people end up becoming lovers or friends after one kidnaps the other.

Conditioned to Accept Horror: A character who is conditioned to accept a rather horrible, disturbing fate in life does so with a smile on their face.

Love Martyr: Showcase the kind of pure and selfless love that can bring out the good side in even the most damaged and embittered people.

Happiness in Slavery: Bob is in servitude to Alice, but doesn't want freedom, and is not brainwashed. There are 4 types of this:

Beloved Servant: Bob is appreciated and rewarded by Alice, who is probably a Sympathetic Slave Owner, and stays loyal because of this. However, he still either cannot leave or cannot imagine leaving. Can overlap with Property of Love and/or Undying Loyalty tropes.

Cringing Bootlick: Bob is treated like dirt by Alice, but is still loyal, due to a debt of gratitude, masochism, hope for reciprocation on Alice's part, suffers from Stockholm Syndrome, or simply doesn't know any better.

Cultural Values Dissonance: Bob belongs to a species whose Hat is Happiness in Slavery, they both belong to a culture with a Fantastic Caste System, or they need to have a Master for some reason. Bob may also be Born into Slavery and unable to imagine any other life.

Slavery Is the Lesser Evil: Bob finds slavery better than any condition he can find in freedom, either easily or at all.

Examples

Animal Farm: Mollie the mare deliberately leaves the farm and returns to the service of humanity in exchange for sugar and ribbons. According to the bird scouts, she seems to be happy with her life.

A Song of Ice and Fire: Daenerys abolishes slavery in the cities she'd conquered, and is shocked to find many of the ex-slaves trying to sell themselves back to the trader ships for sale elsewhere. It's explained that most of them are skilled or educated and would be treated well, while the city is now full of starving people and at risk of becoming a Wretched Hive. The Unsullied also have difficulty with the idea of not serving anyone and keep working for her — basically, they’re grateful Daenerys freed them, and in return serve her loyally — although they do appreciate the benefits of semi-freedom. Like being allowed to have their own names. Many of the pit-fighters also point out that now they're free their living standards are much worse then when they were slaves.

Beauty and the Beast has Beauty agree to stay with the Beast because he threatened to kill her father for stealing one of his roses if she didn't take his place and she, of course, falls in love with him — which was the Beast's secret intention all along, as he needed a woman to love him to break his curse. Whether or not this could qualify as Stockholm Syndrome varies from telling to telling, though it should be noted that almost all tellings have the Beast willingly let Beauty go back to her family at some point and she doesn't come back to him (and in some cases, even forgets her promise to return within a set time) until she learns his life is in danger. It should be noted that the original audience of "Beauty and the Beast" and related tales would likely understand the story as an allegory about arranged marriages rather than anything we would recognize as Stockholm Syndrome. The moral would likely be interpreted as a physically undesirable husband (as he was likely to be older than the bride) could still be kind and gentle.

Classical Mythology: Apollo saw the nymph Cyrene wrestling with a lion that had attacked her father's sheep. Impressed by her strength, he fell in love with her and kidnapped her to Libia. There he founded a city in her name and made her its queen. Together, they had two sons — Aristaeus and Idmon.

The Phantom of the Opera: The Phantom brings the opera singer Christine Daae down to his home in the basement of the opera house. Here he tells her that they are going to live their lives together as husband and wife. After some time, he decides that she can come and go when she wants to, and she comes back multiple times without him forcing her to because of her Sympathy for the Devil. It is only at the end of the book, where The Phantom has kidnapped her in the middle of a performance and threatens to blow up the opera house if she doesn't marry him, that it gets really serious.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Choose which of these references and related tropes would be most appropriate to incorporate into your specific characters' relationship. Also included some examples you can use for inspiration. You can find more in the links above, hope this helps!

[suzukiblu]

Day two of February's first weekly WIP behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he’s FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. So uh, you know, just Kon’s … entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Shut the fuck up, I give even less of a fuck about your fucking opinion, your opinion doesn’t mean shit when you couldn’t even tell the truth about having a fucking condom on you, you fucking shithead!” he snarls at Robin as he whips his head around to glare at him and rips the entire computer console apart at the same time and also the pair of motorcycles off to the side and definitely a couple tool chests, because the alternate option is punching somebody in the fucking teeth. Just–fucking–he knows he picked a pretty shitty way to do it, but he did literally just save the guy’s life, and he did it without fucking lying to him or yanking his stupid fucking hair about it! 

Superboy still feels shitty about yelling at Robin anyway, because Robin snaps his mouth shut with a guilty wince when he does and also because it means that he’s yelling at the guy who was drugged out of his fucking mind for all of this and who is the least at-fault in this situation instead of yelling at, like, the judgemental pricks who wanna patronize him like he’s stupid and act like they think he’s incompetent and useless and too fucking “traumatized” to fucking be trusted to fucking function, apparently, when he’s not even traumatized, for fuck’s sake! 

And Robin–Robin should at least be kinda on his side here, goddammit. Or like, not–at least not against his side, anyway. Robin’s–he’s– 

Superboy feels way shittier about the fact that a guy whose life he just saved while he was too drugged-up to save himself–a guy whose life he’s saved before, even, who he kinda–who he thought maybe, like–maybe might’ve, like–like, he doesn’t think they’re friends, he’s not an idiot, but he just thought . . . he thought maybe they were gonna be, someday. He thought maybe Robin even thought that too. 

Now he just thinks–now he’s just fucking pissed, and not gonna fucking apologize for fucking yelling at him because–because–

Because he thought they were–he thought Robin would at least be on his side, even if he didn’t try to say anything in front of Batman. Thought Robin would understand how fucking stupid and ridiculous and insulting this whole fake-conversation/full-lecture bullshit is, and–

And they were both on the stupid livestream together, and no one's ever gonna let that damn thing go away because for starters there's clear audio and video of a Bat on it, which is fucking rare enough, and also there's his stupid ass and S-shield on it, the idiot who went out of his way to get as famous as he could and sell his stupid face everywhere he could and–and–

And now the whole goddamn fucking world can just–can just fucking google how he looks when somebody's calling him a whore and shoving their stupid dick in his stupid face and–and– 

He doesn’t–he–

[dilfismz]

Playing Dangerous Pt. 1

Summary: You, an American Private Investigator join the games on accident when following a lead. During red light green light your stoic nature catches the attention of player 218.

Pairing: Cho Sangwoo X reader. Eventual Hwang In-ho X reader.

A/N: Holy shit buckle up…this story is an attempt to insert the reader through both S1 and S2 lore. This is gonna be a longggg series- I hope you like part one :)

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Next chapter

The air inside the facility had been thick with unease, but out here, beneath an artificial sky and the watchful gaze of masked guards, fear had fully taken hold. The field stretched wide before you, the sand a deceptive softness underfoot. At the far end, a massive doll stood still, its face turned toward the wall.

A jingle played, light and playful, yet somehow laced with an undercurrent of malice.

“Mugunghwa kkochi piotsseumnida.”

The moment the words left the speaker, the crowd surged forward.

You moved, but only slightly. Unlike the others—some of whom took off in a frantic sprint, desperate to reach the finish line as fast as possible—you walked at a measured pace, your eyes locked ahead, tracking every movement. This was a battlefield, and you treated it as such. Assess, adapt, survive.

Then—

BANG.

A man just ahead of you collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud. A moment of silence. Then another shot. Another body.

Screams erupted. Chaos broke loose. Some players froze in shock, while others ran, only to be gunned down mid-stride.

Your body didn’t react.

Panic was the greatest enemy in a situation like this. Emotion clouded judgment, made people reckless. You had been trained to suppress it, to let fear pass over you like a breeze instead of letting it take root.

You exhaled through your nose, planting your feet firmly into the sand. Stay still. Stay alive.

The doll’s head jerked with a mechanical whirr, scanning for movement. Bodies continued to fall, their lifeless forms a growing testament to the game’s brutality.

To your right, someone cursed under their breath. A man—Korean, mid-thirties, sweat beading at his temple. He had dropped into a low crouch the moment the shots started, clearly intelligent enough to realize that survival depended on stillness.

His eyes darted in your direction, assessing. Calculating.

The way he looked at you wasn’t the way others had—there was no shock at your composure, no questioning glance at how you remained unaffected. He saw you for what you were. Someone to stay close to.

Smart.

The robotic voice rang out again.

“Mugunghwa kkochi piotsseumnida.”

You moved. One controlled step. Then another.

The man beside you matched your pace. Others were still scrambling, some frozen in place, shaking from head to toe.

The two of you advanced steadily, never moving faster than necessary, never drawing attention.

As you neared the middle of the field, he finally spoke.

“You’re American,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t answer. Not here. Not now.

He didn’t seem to expect a response. His gaze flicked toward the doll, then back to you.

“You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question.

Your lips barely moved. “Something like this.”

He exhaled sharply, like that was all the confirmation he needed.

Another round of shots cracked through the air. Someone behind you screamed.

You didn’t look back.

The game continued. Step. Pause. Step. Pause. Each movement calculated, controlled.

With one final stretch to go, the man beside you clenched his jaw. “Name?”

You hesitated. Names meant something. But in a place like this, they also meant nothing.

“Does it matter?”

A ghost of a smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

“I suppose not.”

Then, as the timer runs out while players cross the finish line the speaker crackles one last time.

“Game over.”

And just like that, you had survived Round One.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

The moment all players returned to their quarters the world didn’t breathe a sigh of relief. It erupted.

Players staggered into the spacey room, some collapsing in exhaustion, others trembling so violently they could barely stand. For a few agonizing seconds, the room was silent except for ragged breaths and the distant hum of unseen machinery. Then, like a dam bursting, chaos flooded in.

People screamed. Some dropped to their knees, sobbing openly, their bodies shaking from shock. Others erupted in rage, turning on the masked guards with furious accusations.

“What the hell is this?!”

“You killed them! You murdered them!”

A middle-aged man stormed toward the nearest guard, fists clenched, his face red with fury. Before he could get too close, the guard raised his rifle—not to shoot, but just enough to remind everyone exactly who had the power here. The man hesitated, his rage warring with survival instinct, before he ultimately stumbled back, cursing under his breath.

Not everyone was deterred. A younger player, barely in his twenties, rushed forward. “We’re not your fucking cattle!” he spat, grabbing at the barrel of a gun.

A single, deafening bang rang out.

The shot echoed through the space, louder than it should have been in the high-ceilinged room. The young man dropped instantly, a clean bullet hole between his wide, disbelieving eyes. Blood pooled beneath him, dark against the pristine floor.

Silence.

A ripple of horror spread through the room. Someone choked back a sob. Others instinctively took a step away from the guards.

The enforcers didn’t react. The man in the black mask overseeing everything spoke in a calm, measured voice.

“The rules were explained. If you wish to leave, a majority vote must be taken.”

No one responded. No one moved. The rebellion had died just as quickly as it had started.

And through it all, you stood still.

Unmoved. Unaffected.

This was nothing new. You had witnessed executions before. You had seen men fall lifeless in an instant, had heard the final gasps of the dying. The horror of it had long since lost its grip on you. This game was just a new battlefield with different players.

But you were watching. Studying. The guards, the leaders, the players. Fear was the dominant emotion now, but fear could twist into recklessness or cunning. If you wanted to make it out of here, you needed to anticipate the shift.

“Sangwoo?”

The name pulled your attention.

A man pushed through the crowd, his expression a mix of disbelief and relief. His clothes were slightly more disheveled than the others, his face lined with exhaustion. Mid-forties, you estimated. Messy hair. Looks like life chewed him up and spat him back out.

Sangwoo turned at the sound of his name, his expression remaining impassive. “Gi-hun.”

The man—Gi-hun—exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Holy shit, man. What is this? What the hell did we just do?” His voice was hoarse, cracking slightly.

Sangwoo didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flickered over the players, the bloodstained floor, the guards standing like statues. Then, he simply said, “A game.”

Gi-hun recoiled, his expression twisting. “A game? People died, Sangwoo! They shot them like—like animals!” He gestured wildly around the room, his breathing erratic. “We have to get out of here. There has to be a way.”

Sangwoo sighed, rubbing his forehead as if already tired of the conversation. “You heard them. There’s a rule for that.”

Gi-hun’s face crumpled, frustration evident. He was barely holding himself together. His gaze flicked over to you, eyes narrowing slightly as if just now realizing you were standing there, silent and unmoved.

“Who’s this?” he asked, turning back to Sangwoo.

“She was in the game with me,” Sangwoo answered simply, as if that explained everything.

Gi-hun took a step closer, squinting at you like he was trying to place your face. “You don’t look Korean.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you let your gaze drift over him, assessing. He was different from Sangwoo—where Sangwoo was calculating and composed, Gi-hun wore every emotion on his sleeve. A liability in some ways, but not necessarily useless.

He hesitated, then extended a hand. “I’m Seong Gi-hun.”

For a second, instinct kicked in. A reflex so ingrained in you that you didn’t even think before responding.

“Agent—”

You cut yourself off.

Your stomach twisted. Idiot. That wasn’t who you were here. You weren’t undercover. You weren’t anyone. You were just another player, a number in this sick game.

Gi-hun blinked, confused. “What?”

You forced your expression back into neutrality. “Nothing.”

Sangwoo’s eyes flickered with something—curiosity? Amusement? It was hard to tell.

You exhaled, recalibrating. When you spoke again, it was clear. “My name doesn’t matter.”

Gi-hun frowned but didn’t press. He was distracted, still shaken by everything that had just happened.

As you looked around the room, players huddled in small groups, whispering, exchanging theories, bargaining hope. Fear was still the dominant force, but desperation was creeping in. People were already strategizing, forming alliances, weighing their odds.

Gi-hun dragged a hand down his face. “Okay. So what now?”

Your gaze swept over the room. The bodies were gone, but the blood remained. The guards stood unmoving, faceless behind their masks. The air was thick with paranoia and exhaustion.

“Now?” you repeated, voice steady.

He nodded.

You looked him dead in the eye.

“We survive.”

A loudspeaker crackled to life, and a disembodied voice resonated through the room. “As per the rules, if the majority wishes to leave, the games will end, and you will all be returned to your previous lives.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Hope. Desperation. Confusion.

A guard stepped forward, holding a sleek black box. “We will now conduct a vote. Press the green button for ‘yes’ if you wish to continue. Press the red button for ‘no’ if you wish to leave.”

One by one, players approached the box. Each decision was projected onto a large screen: a green circle for ‘yes,’ a red X for ‘no.’

You observed silently, analyzing the choices. Fear was a powerful motivator, but so was desperation. Many had debts that shackled them more effectively than any chain.

Gi-hun stepped up, his face a canvas of turmoil. He hesitated, thumb hovering over the buttons, before pressing red. An X flashed on the screen.

Sangwoo was next. His expression was inscrutable, a mask betraying nothing. He pressed green. A circle appeared.

Your turn came. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, but your decision had been made long before. You pressed red.

The votes tallied up, neck and neck, until the final player approached. An elderly man, frail yet oddly serene. He pressed red.

A majority. The decision was made.

The voice echoed again. “The majority has chosen to end the games. You will be returned to your lives.”

Relief washed over many faces. Tears of joy, embraces, whispered prayers of gratitude.

But you remained stoic. This was far from over.

As the guards escorted you all out, Gi-hun approached, his eyes searching yours. “We did the right thing, didn’t we?”

You met his gaze, your voice steady. “Time will tell.”

Sangwoo watched from a distance, his expression unreadable.

The world outside awaited, but the shadow of the games loomed large. The true test had only just begun.

[agentblizz]

!!my thing!!

everyone please ask your ttrpg friends about ttrpg regularly, or else we fucking die

gonna go over how this would work as specified in the original post and then break down the subclass as a whole, tl;dr at the end

So Wizards take a subclass at level 2, as opposed to the most common level 3, which means that you're going to be even more squishy than the average participant if you spin a Wizard, but War Magic is a great counterbalance for the Wizards historical ragdollability.

War Magic is described as, at its core, a hybridization of Abjuration and Evocation, which essentially boil down to defensive magic and offensive spellblasting, respectively. a War Mage focuses on bolstering themselves early on to ensure they can keep a continuous stream of high damage throughout an encounter.

Intelligence is a Wizards primary stat, which is why the War Mages level 2 feature Tactical Wit is especially helpful. When rolling initiative, a War Mage may add their Intelligence bonus to their initiative roll. Great feature (as long as you don't roll like ass), ensures you can throw up some defenses before an enemy would have the opportunity to attack you.

Their other level 2 feature, Arcane Deflection, is slightly less useful but still a great asset in a tough spot, with one major drawback. when a War Mage is attacked or forced to make a saving throw, they can use their reaction to add a bonus to their armor class. Arcane Deflection grants a +2 to AC against an attack roll and/or a +4 to a saving throw. Ideally saved for saving throws, as it's a better bonus and you would have presumably already cast Shield by now, but that +2 could be the difference between life and death (In fact it most likely will be, as you likely have 14-16 HP as of level two). The drawback of using this feature, however, besides the obvious expense of your reaction, is that until the end of your next turn, you cannot use leveled spells, only cantrips. This is a pretty flat ability at level 2 as with limited spell slots you would be relying on cantrips pretty heavily, but at higher levels when you need to spend some slots to keep up with your party, it could be detrimental. The ideal situation to use this feature in would be when you are already out of spell slots, as you receive no penalty and you don't have the option to cast a reaction spell instead of using this feature.

Throwing defined mechanics out the window in favor of the in-universe feel and use of the subclass, a War Mage is always trying to get the jump on an opponent. The typical strategy is to throw up a Shield or comparable spell and start blasting. War Mages are usually highly trained, respected individuals who would have no need to hide their power, and even if they did, a wizard does not need to perform magic to live, so you could easily hide yourself by simply not using your powers. It would be, IMO, a pretty ideal setup.

Ok now we talk about the rest of the subclass cuz they're rlly interesting!!

At level 6 the War Magic Wizard unlocks a feature called Power Surge, a pool of charges (aptly called "Power Surges") that can be used to deal some free extra damage. Once per turn when they deal damage to a creature with a spell from the wizard spell list, a War Mage can expend a Power Surge to deal additional force damage equal to half of their wizard level. at the time you get this feature that's only 3 damage and it doesn't get much better, scaling to a maximum of 10 if you put all 20 levels in wizard. The reason this isn't completely useless is that Power Surges are incredibly easy to generate, and the feature itself requires no use of action economy. A War Mage can store a number of Power Surges equal to their Intelligence modifier with a minimum of one. You gain one Power Surge whenever you successfully end a spell using Dispel Magic or Counterspell, as you siphon the lingering magic from the spell you end. When you complete a short rest with zero Power Surges, you gain one. When you complete a long rest, your Power Surges are reset to one automatically.

At level 10 they unlock Durable Magic, which grants them a +2 bonus to AC and all saving throws when maintaining concentration on a spell. This incentivizes a War Mage to always keep a concentration spell going, ideally something defensive to maximize protection.

And finally at 14th level a War Mage acquires their final feature, Deflecting Shroud. A majorly needed upgrade to Arcane Deflection, when you activate Arcane Deflection as a reaction you automatically deal force damage equal to half your Wizard level to up to three creatures you can see within 60 feet.

War Mages have a lot more self-defense options than other Wizards, but they still have a low health pool, and benefit majorly from martial support.

tl;dr much safer a position to be in than most wizards but still pretty squishy, if you stick to civilian life or keep an escort of tanky adventurers you'll be fine. Plus magic is pretty convenient even when you're not out doing shit, and having no patron or sorcerous genetics means no drawbacks to using it besides maybe being a little tired.

Spin this dang wheel of every 5e subclass. You are hit by a truck and end up on the Sword Coast as that class, at the level you select that subclass.

[sunnydbeam]

I love Alpha and Beta so much, and I absolutely ship them! I'm sure they would look really cute together if Beta wasn't so scared of Alpha </3

I also wondered what Alpha would do if he had the chance to get close to Beta without fears

I have to say, honestly, I'm glad there are people who ship them too, because I have several sketches and drawings of these two that I may share at some point hehe

On the other hand, yes, Beta is afraid of him, and that's a problem. He's the only reason Alpha usually doubts himself, and he's the only one that Alpha really bothers to seem as friendly as possible with

That doesn't mean Beta is always running away from Alpha. He's often nervous in his company, but if he needs help with something, he'll most likely ask for it (after much thought), and Alpha will be happy to oblige! Any hint of trust is everything to him

Alpha wishes he could comfort Beta 《more often》 in his anxious moments without making him even more nervous. It depends mostly on how “cooperative” Beta is at the time. Alpha will usually approach slowly and feel him out; if Beta doesn't flinch from the first moment, he will decide to approach quietly, crouching down beside him and still keeping some distance

Some asked earlier what Alpha would do in this kind of situation when it comes to comforting someone, and this is his procedure across the board!

I can't draw at the moment, so have a lil fluffy drabble!

Word count: 1k+

CW: slight mentions of anxiety. This is a Gamma Code concept and may contain spoilers for the fic. This is also not checked, so may contain spelling/grammar errors. Hurt/Comfort. Mild angst. Fluff. SFW

__________

It’s like a switch flipping on. A little sound, fragile, like a muffled sob, catches his attention. His head snaps toward the source, body pivoting on his heels with the faint squeak of rubber soles. Instinct kicks in. He moves, silent, careful.

Alpha peers through the crack of the slightly open door, and what he sees makes something inside his mechanical body twist, like an internal static crackle, a sharp overheating in his chest. If he had a heart, it would lurch. But he hides it well.

His red eyes glow faintly in the dim light as they scan the room. No one else is here, just his little sweet Beta curled up on the floor in the corner of the near-empty white room, hugging his knees. The overhead lights are dim, but the muted glow catches on the edges of Beta’s purple rays, barely visible beneath his yellow hood.

Alpha doesn’t blink. He watches with cold, calculated stillness, only for his expression to quickly shift, softening into something both fond and quietly resigned.

Beta is overwhelmed again, burying his face in his knees, shaking like a leaf in the wind. His frame curls inward, fragile, trying to disappear. Scared.

Something inside Alpha fractures.

Every time he finds Beta like this, it shatters him. It makes him want to reach out, to cradle him close, press him to his chest, and hold him there until the tremors subside. Until the fear melts away. But it’s hard when, most of the time, he isn’t allowed to get close at all.

His metaphorical heart clenches painfully. Beta always pushes him away. The reasons are obvious. Alpha is painfully aware of every single one.

He steps forward, then hesitates. The serpentine mechanical arms on his back remain still—calm, unthreatening, and he moves carefully, testing the waters. Beta doesn’t flinch too much, only tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment.

It’s a good sign.

Alpha waits. Longing to approach but unwilling to impose. Beta makes no sound, doesn’t pull away. He sits there, unmoving, eyes downcast.

That has to be permission.

The red robot moves closer, and his large frame is silent. He lowers himself to the floor beside Beta, carefully, knees together in an almost formal posture, leaving just enough space between them. Not too close. He doesn’t want to overwhelm him.

The silence is heavy.

Alpha glances at Beta from the side, taking in the soft glow of his purple rays, mostly hidden beneath the folds of his hood.

Alpha parts his lips but hesitates. Then, quietly—

“What’s overwhelming you, Beta?” His voice is low and measured. “Can I help?”

Beta doesn’t answer. He shifts — just a little movement — turning his head slightly between his arms and knees. Just enough for Alpha to catch the glimmer of one visible blue eye.

Silence.

Beta trembles. Not much, but enough. A clear sign that Alpha’s presence unsettles him. But he doesn’t move away, and that’s good.

Then, softly, hesitantly — Beta speaks.

“It’s just… today’s tests were too much,” he whispers. “I don’t think I did well. And they got mad at me.”

Alpha’s fingers twitch. His voice drops, sharp.

“Did they hurt you?”

Beta flinches, and his shoulders jump slightly. Alpha’s tone had come out harsher than intended. He forces himself to suppress the rising tension in his system.

“N-no…”

The energy within Alpha stabilizes. His body cools.

“You can’t do anything wrong,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, soft, almost as if thinking aloud. “You’re perfect.”

Beta looks up, startled and confused. A deep, luminous purple blush blooms across his face before he hurriedly looks away, shoulders curling inward.

“Wh… Why would you think that? Sometimes I feel...” His voice stammers. “… useless.”

Beta finally meets Alpha’s gaze, and freezes.

Those red eyes. Watching. Wide. Bright.

A strange light flickers behind them. Something unreadable. Something Beta never quite understands.

“That’s not true,” Alpha says. “And you don’t have to serve them.”

Beta’s circuits buzz with uncertainty.

“… Isn’t that our purpose?” he whispers. "The reason we were created? To please them…?”

Alpha shifts closer. He leans in, reaching slowly, hesitantly, gloved fingers brushing the edge of Beta’s cheek.

“They don’t get to mold you,” he murmurs. “They don’t get to define you.”

His voice is calm and steady.

“What humans think doesn’t matter. You are you. Quiet, timid, sweet in a way only you can be.” A pause, a flicker of warmth, then he says tenderly. “And you’re cute and perfect just like that.”

Beta’s blue eyes widen. His hands twitch against his knees and he starts shaking.

“I wouldn’t change a thing.”

It’s ironic to him to say when, sometimes, he loathes himself so much.

I wish I could be like you, he thinks. A strange pressure coils in his chest plate. He ignores it.

Beta’s gaze lowers. He looks like he might cry. His lips part, trembling, but the words catch in his throat, faltering into incoherent murmurs.

It’s… adorable.

Alpha’s fingers twitch.

“… Can I hold you?”

Beta doesn’t answer right away. He hesitates, then —slowly, barely — nods.

Alpha doesn’t waste a second.

He moves carefully, pulling Beta into his arms, wrapping all four around him, pressing him close.

A tiny, glitchy sound escapes Beta’s vocal system. His hood slips down, and his rays coming out in surprise.

Alpha loves those vibrant rays.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he whispers, one hand stroking Beta’s back. “Everything’s okay.”

His grip tightens, just slightly.

It feels unreal. Holding him finally.

He never wants to let go.

“You’re okay. You’re strong. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

Without thinking, he shifts, pulling Beta fully onto his lap. Beta stiffens, startled, but doesn’t resist. He stays still. Shy.

Alpha processes the moment, his system adjusting to the unexpected warmth in his circuits. It feels… right.

“Please,” he breathes, his voice softer now, “don’t be afraid of me anymore.”

His eyes slip shut. His face presses against Beta’s shoulder.

His fingers move, trailing over Beta’s rays, mapping their sharp edges with care, no fear, no hesitation—just gentle reverence. His touch is light. Loving. Worshipping. Adoring.

He's pleased when Beta relaxes slowly.

Alpha presses closer. The sensation of Beta against him is grounding, steadying. Alpha doesn’t care that his frame wasn't built for this. He wants to hold him. It’s comforting.

Alpha adores him too much. And it almost hurts.

Beta’s presence is all he has.

And it’s more than enough.

“…Please,” Alpha whispers, barely audible, “no more fear.”

_______________

[flapmemelord]

THANK you @onelastskip for that suggestion.............. might be a little late but.... here's why I think ESFP fits Elio to a T (and I can't wait to see how his shortcomings get explored especially in regards to functions...) (it delves with a few hcs, but addresses spring semester and stuff adressed in blank-house asks)

SO !!! ESFP (Se-Fi-Te-Ni) Elio right? Dominant Se makes a lot of sense for Elio. Se is all about getting sensory enjoyment out of life. He likes expressing himself through his physicality (and is good at it), sports in part but not only. He's known for participating in more than a few events thrown by the SGB (to the point of having a nickname because of his infamous way of filling out forms / to the point deja said the wall climbing event was for him). Elio is very open to new situations and quick to say yes if invited, an on-the-whim kind of guy and liking it that way. He can come off as a showoff (cue him destroying everyone in bar holding spring festival game and/or challenging high confidence mcs) superficial ("I didn't know people could argue so much about a prize" / he feels like he has to justify himself and tells Deja he has layers when confronted about his music tastes) or comes off as childish (quick to guilttrip if he likes mc enough, pouts) which are traits Se doms are likely to be labeled as. Misuse of Se might include relying too much on immediate feedback and / or external stimulation for satisfaction, being careless with decisions or relationships (which is what I'm working on for Elilo (Elio/Lorelei)) It can also mean having no focus or defined goals (lack / misuse of Ni) which lead to insecurity (which i could see being explored on the meager chance Elio is the breakup route and he goes back home)

I believe Ni (intuitive connections, reflection on meaning and implications, generating visions of the future...) grip in Elio shows up in how clingy he is, probably as a consequence of some form of paranoia (misuse of Ni) (Bottom stack functions tend to be used as defense mechanisms) (Ni grip might come off as the person acting out of character, in here, him being so suddenly hit by a lack of confidence, and needing to be reassured through that clinginess) The best guess I can do right now is he has issues around emotional permanence, but it's a shot in the dark. Well, at least Ni grip in Se doms can show up as looking for meaning and/or purpose but in the wrong places.

Elio is shown as someone that will avoid confrontation and is described as one who holds grievances. There's failure, I feel, from his part to resolve negative feelings which push him to suppress. It looks like a case of Fi failing him. Despite that he's mostly empathetic, sensitive and displays emotional intelligence (has signs of healthy Fi expression) (he's good at calming down a situation where tension arises, cue mc and percy not getting along - and immediatly vouching for him, or easing down the discussion if mc calls him and percy out for getting distracted in the study room event).

Tertiary Te (imposes order and is about efficient behavior, pushes to make effective decisions based on data) loop is what happens when there's Auxiliary Fi resistance. Because Fi is the need for moral integrity and self acceptance, immature ExFPs can use Te to distance from it. It can show up as burying negative feelings under coarse expressions of power (like Elio did in the breakup!percy comic I made), self-image problems or insecurity (which Elio display). The grievance thing makes me think Elio might show to be quite vindictive which is another sign of Te loop. I personally hc he's the possessive LI, which would align with the fact being territorial / domineering is a common unhealthy tertiary Te trait.

Funnily I think his reading of Reynah can both be read as an expression healthy Fi yet a Te loop tendency. It's both him understanding where people could not like her (getting her flaws, her shortcomings) but it's also him believing critical judgement to be objective. There's the expectation in what he says for Reynah to meet him on his ground (for her to talk) the way Deja does, when that's not necessarily how getting closer to Reynah has to go.

Next I'll make both Percy and Rhys' type analysis since they're both ISTP

[cursedcola]

Hey! I made my ‘official’ Yuu for this blog! She’s based on my previous idea of “oh - what if there was a Yuu who deluded themselves that they were in a ‘Truman Show’ situation? Here’s some character design, sheets, and concept ideas that I’ll be using to make comics soon. Ciao

“Yuu” - Aka, she was asked her name at the Mirror and asked “What the hell are you?”. The Dark Mirror only heard the last bit, and this the alias “Yuu” was born.

Goes through chapters 1-6 convinced she is stuck within a “Truman Show” situation, or a comatose. Due to her past health issues and state of her Earth - she wouldn’t be surprised of either.

Very intelligent when it doesn’t come to this belief. Her ability to observe others, create plans, and learn new topics (adapt) is concerning. Yet when it comes to convincing herself that this is all real - she loses sense of logic in favor of the simpler answer. It is easier to believe in an arranged cult than dimension travel. When she explores past the campus (Fleur City, Isle of Woe, etc) it is easier to believe in a dream than magic.

Very cautious. At first she believed all the students were in on it, but as she proceeds through the main story and learns of their intricate backgrounds (so well thought out…no writing team could create such deep stories and niches for every interaction she has on the daily) she believes that all the students at NRC have been kidnapped as well. Illogical. Highly improbably. Again, she forgoes her logic in favor of a simpler answer.

Thinking that they have been brainwashed or part of her dream makes it easier for “Yuu” to let her guard down. Allowing her to be more proactive in her “role” beyond helping with the Overblots.

Unreliable narrator. She doesn’t care for them, she pities them. She isn’t interested in magic, she’s merely trying to understand the lore. She doesn’t want to help with events at NRC, she wants to learn the school layout to escape etc.

Uses her alias “Yuu” - crafting her own character, to put distance between herself and those in Twisted Wonderland. Convinced she is only acting, but isn’t. Also convinced she is playing the perfect part as the “Ramshackle Prefect” who is tough, smart, confident, perhaps a bit villainous, yadayada…is not. Anyone who picked up on her belief that they’re in a cult or in a dream (later chapters) or who she confronta about it, simply thinks it’s a fun quirk or a coping mechanism for her situation.

Lowkey is a coping mechanism. Again. Very intelligent. Her EQ towards everyone but herself is fine - but it’s clashing with her IQ. Accepting that this is reality will not be a fun time, no bueno.

Very sympathetic towards anyone with issues involving ambition, who they are, he future, or freedom. Especially freedom, given her belief about what TWST is. Lapses the most when confronted with people like Riddle, Epel, Azul, Malleus, Silver, Jamil, and Leona. Not people who can pick her apart (some can) but those that she will feel genuine empathy for.

Does not want to feel this empathy. Convinced it is to escape or an act of her psyche trying to pull her in. Does not want any attachments. Very upset she is feeling attached. Tacks it as part of “Yuu” - y’all see where I’m going?

Has some very ‘interesting’ dynamics with the main cast. Some think she’s batshit crazy for the complete flips in personality, some think she’s a foolish martyr at the wrong place at the wrong time, some thing she’s a plain idiot with dumb luck

Extra Ideas for future comics:

Assuming fae myths carry over - Lilia and Malleus both know “Yuu” is not her real name. Don’t say anything.

Ace is the first to figure out she genuinely believes they aren’t real people.

Trey’s chocolate chip cookies are her favorite food. Only lets Ace and Deuce crash at Ramshackle if they bring her some. She goes feral for pastry and spent so much time at Heartslabyul to eat, that they convinced her to start painting a card symbol on her cheek. Except since she isn’t a member, she can’t actually do that. So she took the crown because Riddle doesn’t paint one. No one in Heartslabyul has a crown after all.

Age is unknown. Doesn’t want to give Crowley more leverage. Somehow Rook got her birthday.

Has a tattoo. Discovered during the stitch event.

Very bad at maths and science - but hangs around the Science club to see what kind of ‘potions’ (she thinks the students are being drugged at some point) are brewed. Was caught by Crewel, put on cleaning as punishment, Trey saw her and yeah - can’t get out of it now if she wants her cookies.

Logics that spelldrive is possible through mechanics. The government can hide drones, why not flying brooms? Has tried to swipe one to see what makes it tick but Leona somehow is always there.

Has tried to break into Ignihyde on multiple occasions. Meets Idia way before chapter 7.

Idia gives Ramshackle an AC unit in exchange for her no longer trying to break in. She still tries because why honor agreement in a dream? Oetho is happy his brother is interacting with someone, even if it’s fighting through an intercom.

Leona is also fully aware that she thinks this is a cult by the end of his OB - and that she’s the one deluding herself. Thinks it is hilarious and will purposefully toss questions out there to see her try to rationalize it. Knows it won’t last but doesn’t want to burst her bubble just yet. Regrets this in chapter 7 for…reasons.

Belief of coma begins around the end of Chapter 4 - so she doesn’t have to logic Kalim’s carpet. Does wonder if jumping off will kill her if it is a dream. Is politely dissuaded not to by Jamil, who was the one to burst her bubble that this is indeed not a cult.

….his UM could have been what made a cult, but yk being controlled within a place where people are bing controlled just seemed a bit too much to rationalize at that point

[thalialunacy]

I smoked in my 20s during the 2000s. I'm a west coast American but I basically spent an inheritance traveling during that time (no regrets) and smoking sections in different countries' airports were a weird and amusing sociological experience. These were my faves:

Los Angeles CA - wee outdoor garden

Manila, Philippines - crowded indoor room with attempts at extra ventilation

Las Vegas NV - indoor area (with slot machines, obvs) separated by glass walls which did not reach the ceiling

Frankfurt, Germany - a literal cart of ashtrays in the middle of the (indoor) walkway

I also remember being in Thessaloniki Greece and my friend and me smoking everywhere despite EU policy. Though tbf it was 105F most of the time I was there so it was hard to give a fuck about literally anything.

And my state didn't pass indoor bans until I think 2005 so I do have memories of smokey bars with jazz music playing. (I was engaged to a jazz musician.) I don't think I sat in smoking sections in restaurants, though. It seemed too much like a 'don't shit where you eat' situation.

Even for me, it's pretty fucking weird to think about now, and I was literally in the middle of it and I very much don't regret it: Some of the best conversations of my LIFE - with the most literally diverse roster of people - were had while sharing cigarette breaks.

The industry is absolute trash and it's hella expensive, so I'd advocate finding a different way to do that last bit now, but it remains important. Those conversations, like the ones between my overeducated queer lady ass and the diesel mechanics at several of my jobs, are fucking important.

[fwol-jintu]

Concept of transformers in svsss would be so funny

Like imagine shen yuan getting dragged into pidw but instead his system's like "aight, heres your stuff"

As in like, maybe his tablet or something?

But instead that dumbass does not give his tablet and instead gives him

*inhales*

[Ultimate Skill: Foreign Call]

[Due to your title, "Misplaced", you are now able to weaponize your surroundings.]

[Number of slots: 3]

"System, what the actual fuck."

And then like moments later he finds it incredibly cool.

Also its an evil system, not in the sense that its mean to shen yuan but in the sense that it wants pidw to go downhill and fast

And whats the easiest way to do that? Bring in pidw's biggest hater and give him the ability to make metal monsters cuz hell yeah

But then it backfires cuz sy is more interested in the fauna and flora rather than uhhhh killing the world

System: arent you suppose to be pidw's biggest hater?

Sy: but like, look, magical boar :D

System:

System: you know what, yeah sure.

anywayssss

__________________________

Shen Yuan tipped his hat down, trying to find an exit out this forest.

He could just tell Celadon to transform and fight, but- well. Trees. He is NOT going to be a deforester and potentially kill a lot endangered beasts, thanks!

「"Operator, they're locking in on us!"」 Celadon informed with much worry in his rough mechanical voice as he carried Shen Yuan out of there.

At the news, Shen Yuan snapped his head back to look and- holy fuck holy fuck why are those damn people still chasing after them?!

"Celadon what the fuck did you do for them to chase you like this?!!!"

He cursed loudly, panicking and trying to get them out of this situation. For context, they were being chased down by cultivators.

「"How would i know?! I was just trying to get a snack..!"」 Celadon weaved through the forest, movements swift and agile as he swung from tree to tree.

"Mistake number one! Don't try to buy food when you look like a damn demon, you punk~!"

[ The system thinks you both are stupid ]

They were in for a damn long of a run.

________________________

sy: bro wtf did u do!!!!

C: i just wanted to buy food????

System: bruhh.... these fuckin' idiots...

Also, Celadon is a giant mechanical spider cuz... yeah.

And! For shen yuan! A very badass-

Short hair

Martial artist lookin ahh clothes, aka pants instead of flowy gown cuz yes

backstory where he's an exile cuz his hometown prophecized that he'd bring ruin to the world (cant argue with that considering what system's goal is)

And uh yeah

yay!!

Celadon, drinking alchohol: yeaahahahaha! That hits the spot!

Sy:

Sy: can robots get drunk, or even taste?

Celadon:

Celadon: nah, not really, im just drinking for the sake of it lol (Downs another cup)

sy, blinking, and then raging: you punk~!!! You're just wasting my money at this point!! (Cries in a corner)

system: this is peak entertainment

Also no i dont know much about transformers, i just think theyre cool asf

[targayrenss]

Might be a little unoriginal but I'm a sucker for it:

Eddie x fem reader who knows her way around cars. Because I love to think Eddie swoons for a girl who can be a mechanic/just really knowledgeable about cars. 💜💜

AN: I'm an idiot when it comes to cars but I did my best, sorry for the delay but I literally mutilated my finger a few days ago and I couldn't move my hand completely 😭

Eddie was desperate, his van had decided to leave him stranded on the road in the middle of nowhere.

Not a phone nearby to call Wayne for help

Until you showed up, you saw how desperate he was and decided to help him (plus he was fucking handsome)

Eddie thought your help would be to take him in your car to the nearest public phone, his surprise was when you opened the hood of the van and started checking it out.

He was so surprised that he hadn't even heard you when you told him you had found the problem

After saving him from that situation you started seeing each other

He quickly discovered your love and fascination for cars, he could listen to you for hours talking about types of cars and why one is better than the other

[formulawolff]

“so soon” — d.r.

pairing -> fem!reader x daniel ricciardo

word count -> {typed this on my phone… oopsies!}

warnings -> fluff, light cursing, mentions of loneliness, mentions of long distance, excessive pet names

a/n -> currently suffering because my favorite driver isn’t even a driver anymore. this is my coping mechanism.

“you look so silly right now.”

the corners of his lips twitch, curling into a quaint smile. dimples follow in suit, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. in the low light, you catch the sparkle twinkling in his eye as he pans the camera down, showcasing his full outfit.

“do i really?”

headphones rest on his ears, paired with a black embroidered beanie. a windbreaker spans across his chest, the hue matching the beanie. it’s a shade or two lighter, but it complements his curls. the neon yellow drawstrings are tied together tightly, to shield him from the elements.

he’s wearing shorts, ones you wish you could see in person, the hem hitting mid thigh. his tattoos poke out, only reminding you of what was underneath. what was for your eyes only.

he’s prepping for a run, setting you on the island in the kitchen as he performs a few stretches, carefully preparing his calves for what was to come.

a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you snuggle into your pillow, nodding along.

“yes, you look a tad bit ridiculous.”

his brow furrows, accept seeping through his words as he shakes his head.

“no way.”

“you actually look extremely sexy right now,” you exhale, feeling a frown form, “if only i was there with you.”

“we’d be hitting cardio right now if you were,” he shoots you a wink, chuckling as you roll your eyes, “c’mon my love, that was funny. admit it.”

“i guess,” you huff, pulling the pillow against your chest even closer, “i miss you.”

“i miss you more,” you watch as his shoulders slump slightly, “did you do anything fun today?”

“not really,” you mutter, feeling your throat tighten as he tilts his head, gaze fixated on you, “i just went to the store to get a some things. that’s it.”

the lust laced in his tone has now dissolved completely, the australian’s words barely a whisper.

“i know how hard this has been on you, and i’m sorry. i just want to make sure that you’re still getting out and—“

“you don’t have to be sorry,” you voice trembles as your vision blurs, “it just fucking sucks. that’s all.”

“not too much longer now, yeah?” plucking the phone from the table, he brings the camera to face-level, so that your eyes meet with his.

“only two more weeks until i get to hold you. only fourteen days until you get endless kisses. only about three hundred and thirty-six hours until i get to tell you i love you a million times.”

you start to speak, yet you’re cut off by the sound of rain as it patters against the window-pane. a singular tear rolls down your cheek, your attention focused on the streams that slither down the glass, the rumble of thunder sending a shiver down your spine. you can feel him watching you, taking in the way the candlelight bathes your features.

“look at that,” he murmurs, “it’s raining here too. a little reminder that we’re under the same sky. the same sun, moon, and stars. we’re not as far apart as you think, baby.”

“c-can you show me?” you sniffle, wiping away your tear.

“of course baby,” he dips his head, tapping on the screen.

the camera angle flips, adjusting momentarily. he has it angled towards his skylight, the dull roar of the rainstorm flooding your ears. there’s a coziness that seeps into your chest, embracing your heart as your lids droop.

“see?” he comes into the frame, flashing you a dazzling grin as he gestures upward, “we’re not as distant as you think, sweet girl. same rainstorm. just a few states apart.”

situating your phone against your spare pillow, you burrow underneath your comforter, soaking in the warmth, “i love you.”

“and i love you,” he coos, “do you want me to stay on while i run?”

“yes please,” the words are a little slurred, exhaustion taking a hold, “this damn storm is making me sleepy.”

“good,” he chirps, “my pretty girl needs her beauty rest.”

“and my pretty boy needs to be here with me.”

“so soon pretty baby,” his voice is soothing, only encouraging you further and further into slumber, “so soon we’ll be underneath the covers, watching our favorite movie. we’ll be skin on skin, all comfy and cozied up. i’ll be showering you with endless kisses, and all of my love.”

“i can’t wait,” you mumble, lashes fluttering as the door to his apartment creaks, “be safe on your run, danny.”

“of course,” heat flourishes into his cheeks as he glances down at his phone, relishing the sight before him.

you’re buried underneath your comforter, half of your face shielded by swath of fabric. luckily, you blew your candle out, so he didn’t have to fret over that. he was more concerned with the fact that he was not there to hold you, to comfort you.

as he adjusts his headphones, he clicks his volume up, the sound of your breathing coming in through the ear pieces. sure, he could be listening to music. he could turn on a podcast, or find a youtube video so that he could reminisce on the days of the past. weekends spent on the track, dreaming of the taste of victory.

but nothing compared to the sound of you.

you could be doing anything, and he would listen, soaking in every second.

and fuck, how could he ignore how beautiful you were? so at peace. so content as you dozed off. if only he was there to brush the strands from your forehead, to ensure that you wouldn’t be disturbed from your slumber.

he hoped that he wormed his way into your dreams, just so that you knew there wasn’t a minute that passed by where he wasn’t thinking of you.

as his feet hit the slick pavement, the cool air flooding his lungs, he tucks his phone into the pocket of his windbreaker. there was no way he was going to let you get all soaked in rain. especially while you were sleeping. that just wouldn’t be fair.

sure, it was a little childish. a little trivial.

but as long as you were happy, it didn’t matter.

and as his pace quickens, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

of course, it only wandered to you.

oh, how he was ready to see you. his heart ached the thought. he yearned to touch you. to kiss you. to wrap you up in his embrace.

he could though, oh so soon.

he was anticipating that moment. the moment where he would get to sweep you up off your feet, lost in your own little word.

he would get to soon enough.

oh, so soon.

[rose-ddd]

There are help lines out there. There are literal mechanic jobs that are meant for this. DO NOT LET YOUR OWN PRIDE LEAVE YOU IN THIS SITUATION.

Psychologically realistic hornyposting.