#and where's my hard disk

[parkercore-69]

me offhandedly telling a friend that i’d really like to get a few of the saw dvds from cex to add to my dvd collection but being unable to due to complications with being a minor who can’t by 18s alone, to which she responded “yeah but is it really a matter of life or death??” while i sat mouth agape gawking at the audacity she had to say such a thing.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I just wanna listen to music ragged with rage and emotional desperation. But it's kinda hard to search for that sorta thing.

[tittyinfinity]

I've had 16GB RAM in this computer the whole time?? I thought it was just 4gb. I was like how in the hell is my laptop surviving anything that I do to it

I'm realizing I got it mixed up with my tablet that has 4gb of ram lmao

[rinofwater]

Took that silly "which Sandrock character are you" quiz

Got Qi

In a weird way, this does actually feel pretty accurate lol

But what do i do with this information?

[carneirinha]

melanie's portals album is coming out by the end of the month n when i say girl i'm not ready i fucking mean it. like absolutely not in a good way. between:

the fact they seem 2 have completely doubled down on the fairycore spiritualistic aesthetic/lyricism that was all over... everything she did in the after school era

the graphics that honestly remind me of grimes' newer 'elf inspired' works (which is not a good thing)

the absolute trainwreck that is them trying to dissociate from their crybaby days (a lot of artists change direction and are normal about it. what the fuck is 'rip crybaby'. crybaby literally led u to where u r now)

i am just. bracing myself for march 31st. even if it seems like she'll drop the weird production that after school had 4 something more 'hollistic'. i'm still bracing myself

[cybermindz]

max verstappen x fem!reader

⟢ summary. max wasn’t doing a very good job at being an attentive boyfriend, always busy and not paying you any mind, so when you voice your dismay he gives you exactly what you want.

⟢ contains. slight angst, nsfw, smut : unprotected séx, côckwarming ♡, softdom!max, crybaby!reader, he’s stubborn and mean asf (madmax hehe), you ride him in his gaming chair, dirty talk, creampie, begging, mention of alcohol consumption, usage of petnames (e.g. baby, sweetheart, love), wc : 6.4k

nora's ☆ note. peek-a-boo! srry for being gone, this has been in my drafts since jan LMAO. it’s my first time writing something angsty, hopefully it’s up to par w the rest of my writing (o´罒`o) anyway love u all, i’m going through all my work that’s been collecting dust <3

Your feet padded down the endless hallways of the penthouse you currently resided in, searching for Max with a glass of gin in hand. One of his favorites.

The boisterous district of Fontvieille Monaco has gone long quiet as the evening begins to fade in. It was the most treasured part of your day—when the sunset casts over the ocean and how the crowds of people start to diminish slowly one by one. Loud voices and laughter simmering down, back into their homes or into fancy restaurants and bars to enjoy the rest of their night.

Each roll of the blue waves along with the golden disk already beginning to touch the surface ocean water is a view you could never get sick of. The sun slips quickly behind the line of the horizon as it spreads its last rays—stunning hues of oranges and yellows seeping through the windows of your living room, allowing to emit a shadow of your figure on the floor and walls with each step you take as you continue your hunt for your boyfriend.

It is where you feel the utmost of tranquility—the calmness of this environment is a way for you to wind down without having to care for anything else outside of the place you call home, to help wash away any troublesome thoughts. Usually these hours are spent with you and Max watching a movie or making a home cooked meal together. Usually your limbs would be tangled with one another in sacred and intimate ways.

Though this time around, your surroundings don't put you at ease, it doesn’t shake away your worries. In fact, it’s worse than usual.

This current lifestyle by all means, was everything you could ever dream of. You were incredibly lucky to be the partner of someone like Max. The Dutchman who is portrayed and misunderstood as a villain half of the time is actually a gentleman.

Your lover was so genuine and kind, as sweet as the gleam of sun that is currently kissing your skin—the warmth filling your whole body, bringing an overwhelming sense of comfort. It’s the sole reason why you fell in love with him, and you fell hard.

His own love for you is like a garden—blossoming into heavenly flowers within his fast beating heart.

He dotes on you, cares for you when you need it most, like tending to a single daisy amongst a field of grass. Nurturing and watering it with the most fondness, just like he does when kissing you, and god his kisses are to die for. His lips soft against yours like a warm embrace, so tender and delicate, melting into each other's souls. It always felt as if it were the last, as if the world was crumbling beneath the bottom of your feet. Nothing around you mattered, just the two of you in that space sealing in the gap.

He’s a race car driver for crying out loud—bound to be blunt and direct. But the persona he shows to the crowds of people and millions behind a tv screen is only half of who he truly is. Sure he can have a nasty temper at times during the highlights of his career but those were all under heavy stressful circumstances. In no way shape or form has his impatience and anger on track reach you from behind closed doors…until recently.

That familiarity of admiration for you has suddenly turned into rushed and quick pecks on the lips, hugs lasting only a fracture of a second. There wasn’t any long lasting gentleness to those intimate actions anymore, no adoration laced behind them.

This switch in attitude has you dwelling on it in an unhealthy way. Concerns filling your brain as he hardly devoted any time to you recently. Perpetually blowing you off with an “I’m busy.” and other broken promises to make it up to you whenever you’d suggest going out together for the day.

You genuinely didn't mind it at first, you out of everyone understood how important his career was to him. But, he’s constantly conducting business calls, in emergency meetings, or practicing on the race simulator. You were aching for him, in more ways than one.

It’s lonely enough with him having to travel all around the world 12 times a year with an extra addition of other flights for further business matters. And, with your own work you aren’t usually there to accompany him more than you’d wish. So with the rare occasions of him actually having a break with you at home and to have him not pay any attention to you was, without any exaggeration…starting to annoy you.

In contrast to the beautifully painted sky outside your windows showcasing its eternal beauty of lovely colors, your mood was somber and gloomy. Almost like the soon to be night sky beneath a cascade of iridescent stars on the sandy shores of Monaco—the air thick with a cold breeze and scent of salt, the feeling melancholic.

With an intake of a breath through your nose, the tracks of your light footsteps halt when you finally reach the blackwood door that leads into his office you were positive he was in. You make sure to knock three times—an order you mustn't forget, not wanting to walk in on him potentially streaming a game or being in a meeting with his camera on.

Upon hearing a faint, “Come in.” from the other side of the door, you enter the office with caution. Staring into the dreary space, anyone would be aware of how grim it was; pens and papers scattered across his work desk messily, the trophies resting on the display shelf held a sheer layer of dust, and the cold temperature didn't make it any better. The atmosphere alone coerced goosebumps to emerge onto your skin.

Max himself looked disarrayed, sat in the race simulator on the other side of the room. You walk over to stand beside the makeshift car seat to get a better look at him. All the noticeable tell-tale signs didn't go unnoticed by you, he was pushing himself too much. It was really displeasing to see him not taking care of himself. His light brown hair framed his forehead with eye bags digging into his skin, and there was a prominent little line in between his eyebrows—indicating that he’s been focusing for too long.

“Hey, everything okay?” Setting down the cup of gin on the wooden desk concernedly, you pull off his headset and brush your hand through his locks—pushing them back into place. Max doesn’t tear his eyes off the screens of his multiple monitors, barely sparing you a glance or reacting to the contact of your touch like he normally would.

“Hi baby, yeah…yeah ‘m alright,” he mumbles slowly, almost as if he didn’t register what you said.

“I got you a drink.” A frown makes way onto your features when he doesn’t say anything after that, not even acknowledging the alcohol in front of him. With a tilt of your head you wait expectedly, continuing to burn holes on the side of his face—like you were trying to read into his thoughts. “You coming to bed soon? You should get some rest.”

“Mhm…in a bit.”

You didn’t know why you thought the outcome would be anything different. The monotone lack of response from him had you sneering as a combination of anguish and irritation consumed your body. He’s still looking at the screens, an intense focus in his irises—a need to complete the race laps of the simulator even with his headphones off.

You knew then that he’s not honest with his intentions, being dismissive as usual and leading you to the feeling of neglect yet again. Though this time you’ve reached your limit, patience running thin.

Whilst huffing out an annoyed breath you toss the headset into his lap without a care, “Liar.”

That was a terrible mistake.

His reaction was just about immediate, bewildered at your sudden outburst. “What was that?” Max finally turns his head, eyes narrowing to look at you as you saunter off to the door. You intended to just retire into your shared bedroom alone, tears already pooling at your lash line from all the pent-up frustration with your back facing him.

“If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t dare to walk out that door.”

Halting your footsteps, a shiver bolted up your spine, the previous anger briskly replaced with unease. You’d like to think it was from the cool air that was blowing from the vents instead of his bleak words.

“Get back over here,” he spoke assertively, voice low and ominous—like he was disappointed in your unexpected change of mood, making your skin crawl with uncertainty.

It was a dangerous gamble between wanting to defy him or to finally have all of his attention after two weeks. But you knew better than to test his warnings and tolerance especially after hearing that irked tone. Blinking away the unshed tears, you steel yourself to shift your body and face him again.

“Now. Sweetheart, don't make me repeat myself.”

Your breath hitches, this was probably the first time in days where he’s held eye contact intently with you for longer than twenty seconds and it just about has you stumbling over your feet. The icy glare spoke for itself, already irritated with the way you lashed out at him, which is rare coming from you. He’s got a pounding headache and the last thing he wants to deal with is your little attitude.

His mean demeanor nearly made your eyes water again by the time you returned to his side, following his order. Within a split second, Max chucks the headphones to the ground bitterly. The loud clank! it makes when it hits the wooden floor has you jolting out of your skin, his annoyance radiating off of the small scowl on his face and actions.

In swift movements he pulls you down to straddle his lap without a word, a squeak of surprise leaves your lips since you didn’t have time to process what was happening.

The proximity has your heart skipping a beat, a rush of heat spreading throughout your entire body with nervousness. It was slightly cramped in the space between him and the pc steering wheel—leaving you little to no room to breathe, chest brushing against his to not have your back pressed into the metal material.

You felt that familiar ache in your stomach building up from how close he was and how he was holding your waist to keep you steady. It really didn’t take much for you especially since you’ve missed his warmth—his big veiny hands on your body. Your mind begins to whirl already, making you desperate for more right away, it was easy to tell from your quickened breath.

He observes your small frame all but quivering atop of him, dressed solely in one of his t-shirts that was evidently larger on you and a pair of panties peeking from underneath.

“What’s gotten into you huh?” His eyes lingered a while longer on your bare thighs that were scantily covered. He strokes it with his hands lightly, the contact igniting a trail of fire in its wake on your supple skin before his sharp gaze snapped to return to your face, “always interrupting me.”

You can practically hear the erratic rhythm of your heart beating in your ears because of his fierce scrutinizing eyes, and it doesn't benefit you in the slightest when the expensive cologne he knows drives you crazy wafts into your nostrils—making it even harder to concentrate. The air gets thicker by the second around your heated bodies.

“What’s gotten into me?“ You’re muttering under your breath, looking everywhere but his burning stare to try and rein yourself, “Max you…you hardly have time for me anymore.”

He’s a busy man, engrossed and occupied in his job. You get it, you truly do, you understand the fear he must bear of not wanting to be last. Carrying that title of being number one is both a blessing and a curse. It doesn't help that he's his own worst critic, correcting what he thinks he could do better by practicing on the simulator as much as he possibly can—it’s the only thing that occupies his mind.

The amount of pressure he must feel has to be overbearing—all the more for a non-stressful winter break, he’s been losing too much sleep and he couldn’t even bother to mind your concerns. All you wanted was to take care of him in different ways, you’ve tried for days but those days turned into two weeks and you’ve had enough.

One of his hands smooths over your back, humming gruffly while the other jerks your chin to force you to look at him with a firm grip so you don't pull away, “Y’know I have to be on top of my work right?”

“Yes! Of course I do but—“

“I’m doing this for us.” He then takes both of his palms, dragging them down your sides tantalizingly to grasp your hips. Max kneads the flesh briefly before guiding you with a secure hold to have your clothed heat rub at his crotch that's already flinching, growing hard underneath you. He does so almost mockingly, knowing just what you want and eliciting a shocked choked gasp from you, “working so I could get you the things you want.”

Your small hands went to hold onto his broad shoulders at the unexpected friction, it was getting tougher to keep yourself grounded—body trembling with the effort to stay in check, to stop yourself from grinding down on him greedily like you so desperately wanted.

“Max,” your face is sullen as you speak just above a whisper, he was mere inches away, so close you can almost taste him. You could just…lean forward a bit, claim his lips and have him again, “I don’t care about that, I just want to spend—“

“Time with me.” He interrupts again, stealing the rest of the sentence out of your mouth like he’s heard it a hundred times before and you can't seem to get snarky with him at the moment because of the way he was gradually rolling your groin against his. A rush of butterflies stirs in your tummy from the staggering sensation.

Max reaches under the hem of his baggy shirt that's draped over you with an exasperated exhale, his touch ticklish as his fingers dance along the soft skin near the band of your underwear. You can start to feel your body seeking more of his attention, so close to being obtainable you can taste it on the tip of your tongue.

“Is that it? Fine. If that’s the case, then you’re going to sit still.”

His words pique your interest at once that you seem to ignore his condescending behavior—content with just getting to be in his presence again.

He takes notice of your tongue peeking out to wet your lips in expectancy, earning a flicker of amusement on his features before quickly masking it back with a stoic expression. You can feel him trail lower and lower until the tips of his fingers reach your sensitive bud to circle it delicately over your panties, almost feather-light to tease you. The response from your body was instant, mewling and arching your back. Your clothed breasts were now flush against his chest, allowing more warmth to exchange between the two of you.

“All you wanted was to get your little pussy wet huh?” He lets out a scoffing chuckle, making a wave of humiliation wash over you from the way he puts it. You shake your head in denial, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that you are in fact sexually frustrated.

“N-Ngh! No!” But he can see right through your miserable bluff, especially with your heavy puffs of breath and stammering.

You were utterly touch-starved that your underwear was already dampening under his touch with your growing arousal. All from just sitting on his lap and light traces of contact.

“No? Then why are you soaking my fingers right now?” A sense of pride always filled his body knowing the affect he had on you, to have you heat up and slip into that sweet headspace with just a few ministrations. “Aww my sweet baby, you just needed a bit of my attention? Is that it?”

Max continues to work you up with a lazy smirk on his lips, watching you closely for each little face twisting reaction, “answer me sweetheart.” He lightly taps at your clit, another chuckle almost slipping from his throat when you sit up straighter because of it.

“Yes Max, I…want you.” Your voice comes out a bit whiny than you intended but you don’t seem to care because of the way your brain is clouding, craving more without question.

“There’s my good girl.”

With your lower lip sucked between your teeth you brace yourself for more, blood pumping with excitement. He was finally going to fuck you like you’ve been wanting for days, right?

Wrong.

What you didn’t expect was to be fully naked, straddling his cock whilst he ignored you.

Dumbfounded was an understatement.

As you watch the clock on the other side of the office—perched on top of the door behind him, your sanity quickly dissolves with each passing tick. It took you about ten minutes to realize the vast amount of self-control he held. So while you were sitting on his lap, firm length sheathed deeply inside you—Max simply returned to the simulator, superbly content with this proposal. You on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tremor of your thighs.

Breaking the tense silence with an unsatisfied grumble, you wrap your arms around his neck in hopes to get more direct contact of his skin on yours. Your frame was taut and rigid above him, trying your damn hardest to not make any sudden movements like he ordered.

Being able to finally feel him again like this but not allowed to do anything about it has you on edge, you eagerly wanted—no needed some sort of relief. So with much contemplation your movements get bolder with a grind of your hips, though it only makes him give you a stern look in exchange, enough for you to force into a stop at once.

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, giving a light smack on your plush ass as a warning. “Stop fuckin’ moving,” he hisses through gritted teeth, still annoyed with you and it had your heart aching uncomfortably.

You should be the one that was upset but you felt so vulnerable and deprived, especially with him still being fully clothed, his shorts and briefs pushed down just enough to free his cock making you feel all the more exposed and in the mercy of his hands. You so miserably needed more of him, all of him.

“Max please,” you can’t help but beg now, knowing that it’ll usually weaken his resolve with that angelic voice of yours, “I can’t.”

It doesn't seem to deter him though. A sense of disappointment engulfs you, he was so hellbent on teaching you a lesson that you know you don't even deserve.

“You can and you will. What happened to being my good girl?” His hands never leave the steering wheel behind you and his voice, not even in the slightest—doesn’t waver whenever he speaks, practically like he was unaffected with your warm wet cunt wrapped around him, “besides, isn’t this what you wanted? Don’t make me punish you.”

He’s mocking you. You can almost see his lips quirking up into a smile as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck with no retaliation afterward, so eager to please him.

The only thing you can possibly do was snuggle closer for the little bit of warmth his clothed body can radiate in the cold office and listen to the loud roar of V6 engines coming from the game. With tightly shut eyes, you try to think of something to distract you but nothing works as your mind parades itself from the feeling of his fat tip kissing your cervix, stuffed full.

This was already punishing enough, none of this was painful oh no—it was the complete opposite. But, the pleasure rising up and not having your desires fulfilled was tearing you apart. It was borderline torture.

The stretch makes slick from your pussy drool on his girth, a mess pooling straight down his balls and whenever he would move his feet on the pedals of the simulator—his thigh jumps, making you shift on his lap and bounce ever so slightly on his shaft. It has you whining against his ear like a bitch in heat.

Max’s eyes burn into the screen of his pc after perceiving the sound of your soft whimper and whines against his ear, breath tickling his skin and making it prick up. He always loved any noises that he could pull from you, his possessiveness and ego feeds off it. He's transfixed—entranced by how sweet it sounds. He can’t lie, he did miss you. Missed having you close like this, desperate and easily acquiescent for him, your soft voice all breathless and needy.

Just the feeling and connection of you.

He clenched his jaw when your velvet walls fluttered around him, his own self-control was close to snapping. But being an asshole just to spite you seemed more pleasing, he purposely moved his legs more forcefully on the pedals to elicit more of those pretty little cries of pleasure.

Though he completely freezes up the moment he hears you sniffling against his neck, hot tears hitting his shirt seconds after.

Max knows he's been a shit boyfriend but he's too prideful to admit it, so frustrated and harsh while his sole center of attention was on how to be better, better, better with his work that he seemed to forget your own needs. He’s conflicted at the moment as he thinks about it, infuriated at himself for taking it out on you.

You were trying so hard for him, to be his good girl that you always were despite your own discontentment and bitterness to his treatment towards you. You didn’t want to upset him any further even if this was his own doing, it made both his heart stammer and his cock twitch from how kind you are to him. He didn't deserve you.

When you feel that certain jerk inside of you, your one track mind really couldn't stop your lips from speaking once more through your small sniffles. “P-Please Max,” you attempt again with hesitation, lip bitten raw from your constant chewing, “I can’t take this much longer.”

His self-restraint finally snaps.

Your ears perk and pick up the sound of him sipping, completely downing the glass of alcohol that was disregarded earlier in one go. He hisses harshly after the burn cascades down his throat with each gulp and then leans forward, muscles flexing slightly as he places the now empty cup on the desk with a soft clunk before turning off the gaming system.

The unexpected silence causes your stomach to twist in a knot, no longer capable of hearing the thunderous engines of formula one cars—just his ragged breathing and ticking of the clock.

Anticipation nags in the back of your mind, a hundred things running all at once while you sit there pliantly and unmoving, silent tears cascading down your face.

You can't help but think that you’ve surely done it this time, you’ve pissed him off now haven’t you?

“So ungrateful for all the things I give you, hm?” He eventually speaks amidst the strained quietness. The words he utters out didn’t hold any actual malice, voice softer now. His anger giving away to more vulnerability as his hands went to pry your face away from his neck, holding it in his palms gently.

It ached to see you hurt, the pain in your features mirrored in his own heart. His hands trembled subtly while he cradled your soft cheeks, thumbs brushing away the salty tears that fell—trying to comfort and soothe you, “always complaining.”

You lean further back slightly to get a better view of his features, seeing a mixture of emotions swirling in his irises.

Pity. Sadness. Longing.

You could feel it with the way he held you with care, you could feel it in the air—through his soft breath against your skin. Your own heart tugs a bit when you realize that he was feeling guilty. Guilty for doing this to you, for mistreating you.

“I miss you.” You hiccup whilst his thumbs continue their calming motions on the apple of your cheeks.

He focuses on your pretty face stained with wet tears before brushing some loose strands of hair framing your face, tucking it behind your ear and he couldn’t help but marvel at how cute you looked. You were nuzzled into his hands like a kicked little puppy—doe glassy eyes staring into his own.

Max lets out a shaky breath out his nose when a pout adorns your pretty pink lips, he wants to kiss it away, hear those moans you’d make against him. But first, he really needs to apologize for his negligence.

He coos at your broken voice, torn between his self pity and yearning for your presence even if he didn't deserve the slightest bit of your leniency, “‘m right here baby.” His chest continues to sting as your tears increase, the weight of his words hitting you harder than he expected.

He knows that his reassurance has touched a nerve, that you've been longing to hear those words for days. That he was never really gone, he still cared for you the same, just too stubborn about his own emotions. While keeping his tender hold on your face, his gaze never leaves your watery eyes. He wants you to feel his unwavering love, a necessity to put your mind at ease, “let me kiss you, can I?”

A soft hum coming from your throat and a small nod is enough confirmation for him to pull you into a fulfilling gentle kiss, one that you were familiar with, the kind that you yearned for so severely. The adoration was felt again as he put much effort and devotion behind it. It felt so good being cherished like this again.

With a pleased sigh passing through you, Max tilts his head—removing one of his hands from your face to hold your nape, intending to deepen the kiss even further. He takes the opportunity to push his tongue past your lips when you part your mouth.

The taste buds on your own wet muscle begin to flood with the flavor of bitter alcohol as it dances and tangles along with his. It was all so, so intoxicating. And he revels at how your lips always manage to be plump and soft, as tasty as he remembered. He mutters against them gently yet firm as he speaks, trying to convey his conflicted feelings, “so sorry my love, ‘m so sorry.”

He places a few chaste kisses on you before pulling away slightly so he can stare up at you for a moment, his pupils tracing every inch of your naked body. He can't get over how beautiful you look with desire and need whirling in your eyes. His heart stutters again with so much regret when you sniffle and hug his shoulders, pressing closer like you were trying to meld into one.

A small glimmer of light breaks through the storm of emotions when the sound of a sheepish giggle comes from your mouth. The lighthearted noise that he’s grown to love over the years of knowing you filling the tense air. Your saccharine voice overflows his ears with words of forgiveness, too compassionate for your own good. He muses at the fact that even through the stressful and pressuring times—the neglect, you were always there to welcome him with open arms.

Max rids the confines of fabric still clinging to his body with a sense of urgency, like a man on a mission to make it up to you. He tosses them to join the pile of your clothes forgotten somewhere on the floor before returning his mouth on you, this time on the column of your neck, peppering it. Starved and parched for you, just as much as you were for him.

His kisses are hot and wet, tongue lapping at your skin while his hands wander over your chest. He can feel you responding to his touches once more, pulse quickening just beneath his fingertips, your breathing coming out in faint gasps.

Small “I love you’s.” tumble from him like a mantra without stopping his focus on your skin. The once pained expression on your face now changed into an alluring one within ticks—cheeks flushed, eyes blown wide, and mouth slightly parted from all the attention.

It only fueled his hunger even more, growing impossibly harder inside of your pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty, I could stare at you like this forever.” His lips work their way up to your ear, licking the shell of it provokingly, the action has the hair on your arms standing stiffly. Max’s voice was direct and rough as he whispers, “fuck yourself onto me, go on baby you can move for me now.”

It's like a fire switch has gone off in your brain. At last, you lift yourself up until his flushed pink tip peeks out to the point of almost slipping out and slowly sink back down. Both of your mouths fall open to let out a low satisfied moan in unison. Your eyelids flutter, half-lidded now, barely being kept open with furrowed brows as you gape back at him.

“Haah!—“ your breath gets caught in your throat as he braces his feet on the floor and plunges his hips up to meet yours when you lift yourself again, stuffing his fat cock into your soaking heat in one instantaneous push. Your small hands claw on his shoulders in surprise, leaving red scratch marks on his pale skin.

“Breathe for me baby…yeahhhhh just like that. I can see you dripping for me, my needy girl look at you—so fuckin’ wet,” he bites his lip to stifle the guttural moan that threatened to slip at the sight before his eyes, “Missed you so much too—shit.”

He continues to run his filthy mouth with a vein protruding his neck and stills his hips so you can set your own pace, your walls shuddering around him in response to his all of his words. Whilst you repeat the same action again and again, you’re already not able to formulate a single thought from the mind numbing sensations. Just mentally saturated at being filled to the hilt over and over and over.

“F-fuuuuuck, so good Max—feels so good!”

“That’s it, just focus on feeling good, ‘m here s’okay. You have me now.” He devours your mouth once more, this time with great fervor—his tongue exploring every inch of the wet cavern more hastily, tasting every bit of what you can give.

He swallows each and every little sound coming from you, every whimper and whine because of each drag of his length, feeling it reverberating through his mouth down to his chest—now full of warmth and contentment.

Max’s hands on your breasts continue to squeeze, fondling your mounds until his calloused fingers pinches and rolls your nipples between them to pebble up in the cool air, adding a jolt of pleasure in the mix. The feeling of you taking him inside, the sounds of your sweet gasps—it drives him insane. He groans deeply, breaking the kiss to have his head fall back against the chair.

You’re fucking him so good all of his tension and worries are melting away from each roll of your hips. Maybe a little too good that he’s biting the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from ramming into you like a madman.

"Keep using me however you want sweetheart, don’t stop ‘till you're satisfied,” he mutters, ragged and hoarse.

You can hardly focus, it was too much for you to endure. All you can make out is how good he feels, how his mushroom head hits that spongy spot with the way you’re taking him in so deep at this angle. This is everything you've ached for, so it’s no surprise how easily you’re falling apart so early on along with him. So overly sensitive and responsive to each stroke of his stiff cock, being able to feel every ridge and vein.

The observation of him splitting you open was incredibly arousing to gawk at. Strings of slick connects where the two of you continuously meet, hot and sticky with a translucent white painting the base of his length as you continue to cream around him.

He swears he feels like he’s floating, going absolutely delirious, and it’s obvious with the way he wouldn’t shut his mouth. Max always gets this way from the taste and feel of you, it’s like his mind couldn't fathom anything else around him.

“You're so good baby, so good for me," he praised, palms going to grip at your hips tightly. He’s clutching you so securely as if he can't bear to let go, leaving crescent shaped indents on your hips from his blunt nails. "You love this, you love being filled up by me, don't you?"

“Y-Yes, Max," you moan out needily, your own fingers digging into his shoulders, "I love it so much. Mnnh—so big.”

His grip on your hips tightens as he tries to hold back, to prolong the need to just pound into you, his breath coming in ragged, shallow pants. The sound of wet plaps! from skin slapping against each other fills the office walls when you move a little faster—air thickening around you further with the smell of sex. His brain clouds, losing himself in the pleasure you bring upon him. He can feel his willpower slowly giving way to his desire and need for you, but he wants you to have this.

The view of you riding him and your sweet whimpers was making it harder for him to control himself. He shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw to focus on not coming so quickly, “You're so tight, so perfect. Can’t even fuckin’—hah! Can hardly think straight.”

He makes it a point to hold out for you, so you can come at the same time just how he always likes. But you whine and suddenly stop, legs starting to strain. The vulgarity of his words, the sensations, it was all getting too overwhelming.

Max groans at the loss of pleasure, reopening his eyes to look at your flushed disheartened face, “What's wrong baby?”

“Need you,“ you whine frustratedly and press your forehead against his, swapping breaths as you both pant, “I can’t…”

"Need my help?" He grabs your hands to place it behind you so you can grasp at the steering wheel, this allows you more leverage and support to slam down onto him, “Lean back and hold onto this sweetheart, hold on tightly.”

For extra measure he snakes a strong arm around your back, holding your waist sturdily as he helps guide you to fucking him more harshly now.

“Oh f-fuck! You’re s-so deep!” You tip your head back, bearing your hickey covered neck to him. He almost came from the sight alone, a low groan bullying it’s way out of his mouth.

“Yeah? That’s better isn’t it baby?” He asks softly but there’s a clear hint of teasing, a playful mocking in his tone. Though his voice is finally starting to waver, all of it sends him into overdrive as he draws close to bursting at the seams. His fingers from his free hand tease the skin of your inner thigh, making your hips stutter slightly. “Oooh, s-shit just felt you squeeze around me, you like that?”

“No teasing Max,” you whine and cinch your brows together, looking back at him with a small scowl but it looks more of a pout in his eyes, “touch me please.”

“Demanding now are we?” Deciding to not be mean anymore than he already has been tonight because of how precious you looked—he licks the calloused pad of his thumb and presses it harshly against your clit, neglected and swollen. He circles it, spreading his spit and your wetness slowly. You shriek at the added stimulation and grip the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turn white.

“My good girl, my everything, all I ever need.” He’s babbling again when your pussy clamps down on him at the praise. Both of your brains seemingly go fuzzy yet in tune with one another, only thinking of one thing and it’s that sweet release.

With each moan from you, a sharp groan and grunt comes from him. His own hips begin to move with you again, no longer capable of keeping still, his thrusts matching each lift of your body. The pleasure builds and builds, becoming almost unbearable.

“So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuated his words with each buck, becoming more sloppy as time goes on—hanging so dangerously close to the edge. And he knew that you were almost there too, he could feel it in the way you were moving against him desperately, clenching and shaking around him. "You're close, aren't you, baby?"

Incoherent babbles of yes's and pleas were all you can respond with. Each drive of his hips were now constricted because of how hard you squeezed around him, your walls pulsing like a vice as your body goes taut.

He didn't stop, couldn't stop, he needed you too badly, needed to feel you as you fell apart for him, all because of him. His thumb rubs more vigorously against your bundle of nerves to heighten the pressure in your core, ready to burst at any given moment.

“Y-Yeah I know I'm right there with you, come on baby,” he urges and leans forward, licking and speaking against your ear, knowing that it’ll drive you even closer to your peak, “I want you to come for me–come with me.”

Your vision begins to blur, nerves on fire as you can only focus on the blissful pleasure. The moans coming out of you now louder and more high-pitched as you chase for your orgasm. He angles his hips and snaps up into you harder, now hitting your sweet spot more incessantly. You suddenly go quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come around him in a silent scream.

“Holy shit, gooooood fucking girl,” his concentration switches to pure ecstasy when he watches you shake atop of him, he can feel everything—every muscle and contraction around him, it was enough for the heat burning in his abdomen to explode along with you. The base of his cock throbs as spurts of cum shoots inside of you while a guttural moan rumbles deep within his throat.

His thrusts begin faltering as he tries to coax the most of your orgasm out of you, pushing his cum further into you as much as he can until the fat head of his now flaccid cock burns in overstimulation.

You collapse onto his chest blissed out and limp when you finally come down from your high. Completely fulfilled again as he hugs you to his sticky body, not caring to pull out, keeping you plugged full of his cum. His chest heaves against your head, rising and falling almost like a soothing lullaby, sitting there and just listening to each others heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry again my love,” he speaks after a while of calming quiteness.

“Shhh don’t talk about it anymore,” you chide playfully, resting your chin on his chest to stare up at him, “just don’t ignore me like that again.”

“Oh I don’t plan on it.”

The familiarity of your bond re-emerges. The tension and hurt from earlier is entirely gone, replaced by a sense of comfort and ease with you lax in his arms. His eyes drinks in the sight of you with a content smile plastered on his face. He’ll have to book a getaway for the rest of his winter break and take you over and over to make up for lost time.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐙 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost.

[nereidprinc3ss]

toaster waffles

in which spencer is woken up by fem!reader and their young daughter after being away on a case

fluff warnings/tags: none really, a bit of suggestiveness between spencer and reader but nothing explicit, their daughter is a genius duh, i love dad!spence so fucking much holy shit a/n: i wrote this in like thirty minutes so good luck! just needed to write dad spencer it just needed to happen idk

“No—baby, we have to let daddy sleep in,” you chide your daughter, jogging to catch her as she races down the hallway on clumsy little legs. 

“No! I wanna see daddy!” She yells—and if Spencer wasn’t awake yet, he will be now. You give in, opening the bedroom door for Ada with a fond (exasperated) sigh. 

“Daddy! Daddy wake up!” 

He blinks sleepily several times, sitting up and grinning at his daughter as she attempts to climb up onto the bed. 

“Hi, princess,” he laughs, grunting dramatically as he pulls her up onto his lap. “Oh my gosh, did you get all grown up while I was gone?”

He catches your eye as you stop at the foot of the bed, arms folded and mouthing an amused ‘I’m sorry.’ Spencer smiles and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, eyes sparkling as Ada attempts to use him as playground equipment. No apology necessary. 

“I made you breakfast!” she remembers, grabbing onto his shoulders and springing up and down on the bed. His eyes go wide. 

“You did? Where is it?”

“Oh no!” she claps her hands to her cheeks and opens her mouth wide, Home Alone style. Spencer laughs. “I forgot it!”

Then she’s wriggling off the bed and running as fast as her little feet will carry her, presumably to the kitchen. 

“You like cold toaster waffles, right?” you tease, approaching the bed and filling the now empty seat that is Spencer’s lap. His hands find your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I would go so far as to say I love them. Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. I forgot how hard it is when you’re gone.”

He hums, running his hand over your hair. 

“I know. Me too.” Spencer now only consults on cases, and very rarely is he actually obliged to travel with the BAU. It was never easy before, but now that you have a child, it takes more out of everyone. “Hey. Look at me.”

You do, lifting your head and meeting his soft gaze. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, brushing his thumb over your cheek before pulling away. “I love you. Thank you for taking care of the progeny while I was away. I know it’s not easy on your own.”

“Eh. She’s alright. She reads to me at bedtime.”

Spencer grins, eyes darting back to your lips. Several quick kisses are pressed there in succession, and it’s not exactly how he wanted to say good morning to you but that will have to wait until later. 

“Ewww!” 

Ada is at the door again, waffle in hand, making a half-disgust half-delight face before prancing back to the bed and receiving another airlift from Spencer up onto the mattress. 

“What do you mean, ew?” he asks in mock offense as her legs swing in the air. “You’re next!”

You watch in unadulterated joy as he peppers little kisses all over her face and she pretends to hate it, squealing with glee.

“Is that for me?” he asks once she’s comfortably sharing his lap with you, pointing to the forgotten waffle. She holds it up, pressing the disk against his lips. Spencer takes a bite, makes an exaggerated yum sound, and kisses her forehead once more. “Thank you. That was delicious.”

“You have to eat all of it so you’ll grow up big and strong.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll do that. Why don’t you leave it on the nightstand and go find a book we can read together?”

“Game of Thrones!”

“No!” he laughs. “That book is way too grownup for you!”

“But I read the first three pages!”

“I know you did. And Auntie Penelope is still in big trouble for that. Go get Lord of the Rings.”

Full of energy despite the early hour, Ada skitters off again to find the book. 

“She’s too smart for her own good,” you sigh, listening to her making up a song as she picks through the book shelf in the next room. 

“Intelligence is generally more nurture than nature. If we act fast we could probably stunt her IQ to just two or three standard deviations above the average.”

You giggle, straddling him as he slips his hand under your shirt to rub your back. Then you try to school your features into a serious expression.

“Not funny.”

That big, lazy grin might never fade—and you’d be happy to look at it forever. 

“You’re right. Not funny at all.”

“Hey,” you remember, grabbing his biceps. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I was gonna make you real breakfast. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. I want to. So tell me what you want.”

“Anything other than a toaster waffle.”

You snort, moving to slide off the bed. 

“We can probably make that happen.”

“Hey—" he catches your waist, pulling you closer. “Penelope is taking Ada to the park this afternoon. We’re gonna spend some time together, okay?”

After having an entire child together, you still get butterflies when he looks at you like that. 

“What if I have plans this afternoon?”

Spencer doesn’t even look mildly concerned—just tilts his head, brushes his thumb over your lips. 

“Then I’m asking you to cancel them, pretty girl. I owe you some undivided attention.”

You chew on your lip. It’s embarrassing how easily he can still fluster you. 

“Right now I have to go find out why our child is being so quiet.”

He laughs, letting you slip from his grasp for good. 

“She probably got into the Stephen King again.”

You pick up the waffle and gesture at him with it emphatically as you walk away.

“This is all your fault.”

“Mm… let’s call it a team effort.”

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Unexpected things you did that delight them:  

Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Malleus Draconia

Content: Fluff

You learned proper tea etiquette for Riddle  

It starts out with you just listening to him correct others as they go throughout the various teatimes of Heartslabyul. How it leads to you thrifting a tea set from a local shop is hard to say, and it’s chipped a bit on the plates, but it holds, and the lady gave it to you for a far cheaper price than she should have. But it cleaned up beautifully, you filled in the cracks with some leftover clay and didn’t even have to repaint it! It was already in Ramshackle blue and green.  

It is embarrassing when he finds you quizzing yourself on the different spoons and plates, but the smile that blooms is worth it.  

You have no idea that when you invite him over for a tea party a few weeks after, it’s the first one that he hasn’t hosted himself. He borrows the same book from the library to brush up on his guest etiquette.  

“Prefect, what are you-ah! A lovely set. If you were needing to learn I would be happy to assist! What teas do you prefer? I will bring complimenting savories or sweets.”  

You carry glasses cleaner for Azul  

Assuming you don’t carry it already or if you don’t wear glasses. You and Azul usually spend a lot of time at Octavinelle but occasionally he will come to Ramshackle. He has since seen the work that you put into fixing up the place and the furniture you've built and appreciates it a way that the others can’t. Afterall, many of his own pieces are repaired or thrifted antiques for authenticity.

Lounging on the couch while listening to one of the jazz records he brought, you take the glasses from his hand when he realizes that he forgot his own cleaner.  

“Prefect, why would you have glasses wipes, you don’t wear any. Ah, you carry them for me. How thoughtful of you, my friend! I hope I’m not putting you out any.” 

You baked him a birthday cake for Trey  

Everyone gets nervous when Trey’s birthday comes around. How do you bake for a baker? He got past the disappointed feeling a long time ago though, perfectly prepared to make his own birthday cake.  

What isn’t accounted for you is pushing him out of the kitchen, declaring it against the rules for him to bake his own birthday cake. He could fight you on it, but he’s intrigued at this point on what you will make.  

What he doesn’t anticipate is a simple vanilla cake with a blueberry filling, a light buttercream frosting and candied violets and almonds scattered on the top. It’s simple but delicious and clearly just for him.

“You’ve got some real potential here. Where did you learn to make candied violets? You foraged and learned how just for me? Ah, that was too much for me. Thank you.”  

You clean Ruggie’s ears 

Ruggie does a lot of things to ensure everybody else gets taken care of, which means sometimes he neglects himself a bit. The showers got trashed over at Savanaclaw so he asks to use yours after a particularly messy Spelldrive Practice. As long as Grim can play with the disk in the backyard with the ghosts, it’s a deal for you.  

He comes out fluffy, hair sticking out in all sorts of places, which means you can see inside his ears and see the dirt still stuck in there. Offering to clean them wasn’t a big deal to you, you have to for Grim all the time.  

It gets awkward for a minute when he lays his head in your lap, but as soon as the cotton hits the inside and starts wiping up all the dirt and grim, he’s putty in your hands  

“I swear they weren’t that bad but-oh. Oh that’s nice. I think I can hear colors now. And your heartbeat. What’s got you racing, huh? I didn’t moo. I did not!” 

You got pictures of his family for Malleus  

This man has pictures of himself and his parents up on the walls, but none of the rest of his family. So, you work with the ghost for a long time, getting candid shots and other bit and pieces and slowly pulling them together. When Malleus’s birthday rolls around, you actually feel nervous about it.  

When he opens his present, to see the photo album, he gets unexpectedly quiet and soft, scanning through the quotes and stories written off to the side. You give little tidbits of how you get some shots, especially the times where you were sure that Lilia knew but didn’t say anything.  

Some even had him! Silver putting him in a headlock during some play wrestling, Lilia tapping his nose while playing chess, a rare moment of him and Sebek reading together where the half fae is actually relaxed.  

At the bottom are small, framed photos of what you thought were the best ones. Silver in his armor, surrounded by animals and birds alike, his sword gleaming with sunlight, looking gentle and graceful and alert. Sebek on horseback, wind streaking his hair to his skull and grinning like a madman, his favorite stead racing fearlessly. Lilia leaning against the railing of the balcony of Diasomnia dorm and watching the sunset, eyes fond and pink in the dying light. 

“I can’t think of a single present I have ever received that has been as thoughtful as this one. Your heart truly knows a kindness that is rare, my friend. But you are missing. Let us take one together. A selfie, yes?”  

[hp-hcs]

• smut (?) • like a record, baby [soulmate au]—poly! simp! mattheo riddle x poly! simp! harry potter x poly! gn! reader

hey sorry i fell off the face of the planet for like two and a half months i fell back into my old hyperfixation and started a new blog just for that and lowkey forgot abt this one and kinda fell out of the fandom lmfao anywhore—

inspired by that one Dead or Alive song

tws: sort of smut? it’s mostly implied and also like two sentences and also doesn’t involve the reader whatsoever?, lowkey bottom mattheo tbh, blink-and-you-miss-it reference to potential harry self harm :(, so fucking ooc omg

not edited if you see any mistakes shhh no you didn’t

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If I, I get to know your name / Well, if I could trace your private number, baby

Mattheo huffed, resigned. It was official; he’d finally have to talk to Scarboy.

Eight years.

Eight years of avoiding the damn boy. Eight years of ignoring the sudden sharp pains that would slice across his forehead, right where Potter’s famous scar was. Eight years of waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares that weren’t his own.

His fingers reached down on instinct to mindlessly trace the prominent soulmarks etched into his wrist. His fingertips skated over the sprawling lightning bolt mark that twisted its way up his arm, its branching lines crossing over part of his faded Dark Mark.

His fingers then marched their way across his scarred skin to the other soulmark. It was an odd black circle with a smaller red circle inside, and an even smaller circle in the center. Thin white lines following the curve of the circular shape were intermittently drawn on the black part, giving it a ridge-like visual texture.

He had no fucking clue what it was supposed to be. Neither did his mother, the one time he’d worked up the nerve to ask her about it.

Potter might, a little voice in his head whispered. He was raised by Mudbloods. If it’s a Muggle symbol, he might know what it is.

Fuck. He really would have to get over himself and talk to Scarboy.

~~~

I, I got to be your friend now, baby

“It’s a vinyl.”

Mattheo paused. “What?”

“The mark. It’s a vinyl.” Harry pushed his glasses up his nose where they’d started to slip down. “It’s an old-fashioned way Muggles used to play music.”

“Music? Is it an instrument?” Mattheo asked, his eyes lingering for just a second too long on Harry’s slender fingers. Potter had taken the news of being Mattheo’s soulmate surprisingly well. He’d just shrugged and nodded, saying he already knew.

Mattheo looks between his and Harry’s exposed forearms. His skin itches to pull his sleeve down, to cover up the shameful mark of his father burned into his flesh for eternity. Harry’s arm is also scarred, but in a much different way. Both bear the same circular soulmark—the vinyl, as Potter had called it—although their other soulmarks differed. Mattheo’s was the obvious lightning bolt, while Harry’s was a cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke that formed the shape of a snake.

And I would like to move in just a little bit closer

“Sort of,” Harry answered his original question, doing his best to explain as his fingers tracing the identical vinyl soulmark on his own wrist. “It’s just a plastic disk. When you put it on a record player, it spins, and a little needle follows the grooves. It plays whatever music was recorded onto it.”

“Uh huh,” Mattheo hummed in acknowledgment a half-second too late, too busy focusing on Harry’s fingers. Had they always looked that good?

Harry smirked and reached over, lacing their hands together. Mattheo’s skin promptly heated up about ten degrees and the skin under his soulmark sizzled with a pleasant buzz before radiating a soft silver glow.

That’s it. They were together; now, until forever.

~~~

Mattheo’s legs shook, his teeth digging into his lower lip hard enough to bleed. “A-ah~ P-Potter—”

“Nuh uh.” The man in question, currently hidden underneath a library table, pulled off. “That’s not my name, and you know it.”

“Harry!”

“That’s it. Good boy.”

~~~

All I know is that to me / You look like you're lots of fun

They refused to call it the Yule Ball this year. After all, the war was over, there was no reason to continue separating Muggleborns and Purebloods with something as silly as a school dance.

So, much to the horror of many a Pureblood parent, Hogwarts was hosting Prom this year.

Open up your lovin' arms / Watch out, here I come

Harry was having a blast. Admin had insisted on only playing Muggle music at Prom, and it had been a wonderfully painful mix of *Nsync, Outkast, and Ricky Martin.

“You have to dance with me,” Harry demanded, pulling Mattheo out onto the dance floor by his arm.

Mattheo stumbled, still not used to the odd formal attire Muggles wore. (A tuxedo, Harry had informed him it was called.) Although he’d never say it aloud, he preferred the tux over his usual dress robes. So much easier to move around in; why were dress robes ever on the table as an option?

~~~

You spin me right ‘round, baby, right ‘round / Like a record, baby, right ‘round, ‘round, ‘round

You spin around in a circle with Hermione, both of you doing your best to teach Pansy Parkinson—Hermione’s soulmate—how to dance anything other than ballroom-style.

All three of you were laughing like mad, spinning around and around until you all got dizzy.

All three of you tried to stumble off the dance floor and back to the table you’d called dibs on earlier in the night. As you’re stumbling back, dizzy, you bump into a pair of men.

Suddenly, your outfit feels a lot stuffier than it did before. You feel hot all over.

One of the men grabs your bicep to try to steady you. His hands are slick with sweat. The other also looks rather warm, his face flushed. All three of you stare at each other as a bright silver glow emanating from three people’s wrists suddenly cuts through the dimmed lights of the dance floor.

I want your love.

[pico-farad]

I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

More Secret Identities AU

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly. 

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (part 4/?)

(Part one, part two, part three, part five, part six, part seven. Also on AO3)

Dick paused, tilting his head.

He was on a spacecraft near Tamaran, watching his star through a live feed on his tablet. His friends sat around him, some watching the cluster alongside him over his shoulder. Kory was behind him, encasing him in her arms.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Dick frowned. “I don’t know. Something is really, really wrong.”

Kory grew quiet again, listening to the song of the stars. It was loud and fast paced, almost frantic. Behind the song, if Dick concentrated enough, he could also hear… screaming.

He almost didn’t know if it was real or not, but it had gone on for a few hours, so he wasn’t sure.

The song covering it was almost like that of a mother singing a lullaby to quickly comfort their child. The stars seemed frantic as they sang, but visually, they didn’t look any different from usual.

His star and all of the others were slow today. They seemed to be circling their sister, the quasar, who looked smaller than usual as well.

Most of the time, her enormous size almost dwarfed her siblings. Her rings of light were so wide that she made her baby siblings look like marbles and even his own star occasionally struggled to be noticed within her glow.

But now, she was still and her size seemed small, even small compared to the protostar. Her accretion disks were pale and her jet was thin and weak.

Was she the one screaming?

But why?

Dick mumbled to himself in confusion, "What's going on—?"

Light flashed across the screen and then she went supernova.

The shockwaves impacted the spacecraft hard, hard enough that the camera shook and blurred the view. The ship rocked and creaked with a screeching noise so loudly that it could be heard through the screen.

For a moment, Dick was excited as he perked up and waited for the dust to settle so he could see into the cluster.

But his stomach dropped when he looked out the camera again and saw nothing but only three stars in various forms of their lives.

No, surely, his eyes were wrong.

One, two, three.

Where was the quasar?

He futilely tilted the screen, as if it would somehow change the perspective of the camera and reveal the quasar hiding behind her siblings.

"No... no! No, no, no! Why is there only three?! Where did she go?!"

"Dick! What has happened? What does that mean?" Kory asked as the Teen Titans crowded around him. Even the others who had been distracted doing something else turned to look at him. The ones close to him all surrounded him with reassuring and comforting presences, trying to calm him down as Dick descended into hysterics.

Dick hurriedly pressed on the buttons, trying to change the camera, get different perspectives, hopefully see something new and not what he was beginning to realize was true. He hoped and prayed that maybe the quasar had turned into something else. A small star, maybe a dwarf.

Anything.

Anything but gone.

“No, no, no! Did any of you see anything?!” He turned to his teammates, who stared at him with horror and worry.

Raven said slowly, “No. We didn’t see anything except for the quasar going supernova.”

“That quasar was Jason’s! And both of our stars are linked to us— when I became Nightwing, my star also went supernova when I grew up. But Jason’s star is gone!” When he saw that his teammates didn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying, he said, “Our stars are connected to us. If the quasar is gone, then that means that…!”

He didn’t want to say it.

His teammates’ eyes widened. They were slowly beginning to understand.

Kory covered her mouth. “Dick…! What does this mean? Are you suggesting that—?”

Vic stood up hurriedly. “I’ll go to the computer, and look into it right now.”

Gar quickly hurried to follow Vic to the main computer while Dick crumpled to his knees with a sob. Kory caught him and the two of them fell onto the floor as she hugged him securely. He clutched back at her just as desperately, but his eyes could not help but look at the camera feed again, where the galaxy had frozen in place.

He didn’t know why they weren’t moving, perhaps a mixture of shock and grief? Maybe some sort of astrophysics reason, since the quasar’s gravitational pull was the one who was mainly holding the little galaxy together when Dick’s star changed. Maybe some weird way of star mourning. Maybe it was nothing, and Dick was going crazy because surely, surely, his little brother was not dead.

His little brother who he had not appreciated enough.

He clutched his eyes shut and forcefully turned away from the Phantom Cluster to bury his face into Kory’s neck. He felt other hands on his shoulders and arms and back, just comforting presences and sources of warmth.

He barely held back from tearing up, praying that Vic would come back with better news. That maybe there was a misunderstanding.

Anything.

Footsteps skittered into the room and everyone looked up.

Gar stared at them with wide eyes. He visibly gulped and then looked at Dick as his blood ran cold.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason Todd, the second Robin, was dead.

————

It took Dick a week before he could go back home. Every day, he just stared at the stars, at the little galaxy where his star sat in silence. There was no more singing, no more chatter, nothing that showed that the stars and planets that inhabited that strange galaxy were sentient besides their still positions in space.

Kory held him every night as Dick mourned for a little brother he did not really know.

And every day, he waited for a call from Batman. A notification, a message, a fucking telepathic signal, anything.

Nothing came.

Dick’s panicking and crying faded by the fourth day and he grew wane from the lack of communication between him and Bruce. For a moment, he almost wanted to go back to Earth straight away just to tear Bruce a new one, but his duties kept him away.

He checked on the camera feed of his star, but it showed nothing. Like him, the stars seemed to also cry for their lost sibling.

Inwardly, Dick was immensely guilty for how grateful he felt for the fact that the quasar also died, uniting him and his star in grief. He wished that the emotions inside of him couldn’t be known by his star, but he had seen what had happened when bad people had met the cluster, and he knew that they were probably aware of his feelings.

He was also grateful that his star did not abandon him despite his inner ugliness.

When he got back, he was met with Danny’s callous and cold remarks about Jason’s death. He had promptly thrown him out and then visited Jason’s grave.

Jason Todd

Rest In Peace.

A cold, emotionless, apathetic tombstone. There was nothing else, no anecdote, no notes, nothing. Dick drew comfort from Kory again and then he went to hunt down Bruce.

That didn’t go well either.

Months passed.

The hurt did not ease and every waking moment when he could, Dick spent at least a few minutes with his star. They were still silent, but as time passed, the cluster began to move again, around and around an empty space that was clearly meant for their sister.

Oh, how strange it was to see stars mourn and grieve just like how humans did.

(Sometimes, they were still so human-like that it was terrifying.)

Dick sat with his star in the control room, watching the celestial bodies whirl around in space in subdued, quiet circles. The singing did not start again, but it was okay. Sometimes, his star spoke to him when he got too worried.

At other times, the one who spoke to him was the King of the cluster, the neutron star who protected his cluster with his remaining light even while he was only a star corpse, that fed his siblings with his supernova remnants, the one who was a hero, just like Robin, when he was still alive and human.

The interstellar medium left behind by their quasar sister was ignored, floating in space in purple, pink, red, and blue hues.

Dick wondered if Robin was reborn as a star somewhere out there.

But then thinking of his star and this cluster, it probably wasn't likely.

They were extremely possessive. If Jason was reborn as a star, he would've been collected and brought here.

(But that meant he was truly gone forever.)

Dick felt like the grief would never disappear.

But just like these stars, the world kept moving.

A boy forced Bruce to take him on as Robin. To help him with his grief. To help him save Gotham. To help him become his best and truest version of Batman again.

Dick disagreed but he knew that the kid wouldn't be obedient. He stepped in to help Bruce train him, so another child wouldn't be sacrificed to Batman's cause.

Dick couldn't have another death on his hands. In order to make things right, he had to train him.

How many more children would be picked up and trained and discarded like him?

(Like Jason?)

How many until Bruce had enough?

Dick was back in the space station again. The cluster was a little more energetic today. His star was spinning around the empty spot again, with his brother and sister following them. The two larger planets, the ones that were considered part of the family of stars, were also excitedly spinning around the stars.

Dick tapped the glass. "My star? What's going on today?"

There was only a crackling silence. It was almost eerie without the singing, but Dick had gotten used to it.

Suddenly, the nebula that had been left behind began to converge.

Dick froze as he watched the glittering star material contort and bend into one spot. There was a small flash of light, then several, and then a burst of sparks appeared before a black mass was formed in the middle of the empty space. It was relatively small at first, but then it grew until it was bigger than the neutron star and protostar, only dwarfed by Dick’s own star.

All of the astronomical objects then began to spin with wild energy. The neutron star himself spun into a pulsar, casting rays of cold electromagnetic energy every time the light passed through the windows.

Dick's jaw dropped as he stared out the window in slow-growing recognition as the black mass stayed still and quiet, as if asleep.

Both Dick and his star spoke up at the same time then, one with relieved happiness and the other with shocked disbelief.

"She's back."

"He's alive!"

|||||||||||||||||||||||

Me: Ah yes my wholesome space themed series

Also me: *kills Jason and Jazz*

Was looking up what Dick’s reaction was to Jason’s death and why did I discover a character named Danny Chase who becomes someone named Phantasm… 🤨 he was such a little asshole too jfc. Also! Please suspend your disbelief on how Dick finds out so fast (since Batman wouldn’t have been able to put it in the computer that fast). Time and computer works differently in space… or something

I almost left this as a fic with Dick mourning for Jason, but I decided to make it a somewhat happy ending with Jazz coming back as well.

You also might have noticed that I use the word “cluster” now instead of “galaxy” and that’s bc I always refer to Danny’s star cluster as “little” and clusters are smaller versions of galaxies.

I’m learning as I go 😭

The Robins and Phantoms are in a codependent and mutualistic relationship. Usually, whatever happens to the Robins will also affect the stars they bonded with, but the reverse won’t happen bc the Phantoms are extremely protective of them and (also extremely protected by Clockwork). I’m doing as much research as I can in order to make the DCU characters’ lives accurate.

I can't wait for Damian to arrive, I want to get into Sam and her planet already

Edit: omg I think I switched Garth (Aqualad) and Gar (Beast Boy)

[henrikvanderhussy]

How to play the original Secrets Can Kill in 2025 without game discs

oh my god I almost just wrote 2015 instead of 2025

I've successfully been playing the original SCK for the past couple hours (including "changing discs" and reopening save files), but it's possible I could run into problems later, so no promises that this is a perfect solution.

This method still requires installing the game files, so I think it'll only work on Windows, sorry Mac users. I'm using Windows 11. I was also able to install and open the game on a Windows 10 computer, but I didn't actually attempt to play it there.

All you need are copies of the game .iso files and a virtual hard disk drive program. The post got long, so details are under the Keep Reading. It's not actually complicated, but apparently I talk a lot lol

The .iso files:

.iso files are digital replicas of optical discs (CDs, DVDs, etc). You probably don't have the original Secrets Can Kill discs, so you will need to...acquire these files.

[NOTE: My personal ethics say to not pirate shit from small studios or independent creators. HeR is a small studio and if people don't buy stuff from them, they can't afford to make new games. However, the original SCK is abandonware and literally can't be purchased, so imo, it's perfectly acceptable to pirate it.

I want to strongly discourage anyone from pirating any of the other games which can be purchased. They have 50% off sales all the time (including through today, 1/5/25) and a bunch of the games are as low as $5 when on-sale. The digital downloads don't come with any kind of restrictive licenses, so if you get a new computer, you can transfer the files and keep your games forever. Pls keep supporting HeR so that we can maybe keep getting new games]

I recommend getting the SCK .iso files from archive.org. That link will take you to a software search for Nancy Drew Secrets Can Kill. As of this post, there's only 1 result that's actually for the original SCK.

Anytime you're downloading software from a site where anyone can upload stuff, there's always a possibility of viruses. Check and see if the uploader seems sketchy (Are there comments on any of their uploads warning about viruses? Is the account brand new?). You could run the files through a virus checking program, but apparently .iso files frequently throw false positives. The SCK uploader seemed legit, but I initially downloaded and installed these on an old computer that I don't use, just in case.

There will be a bunch of files available to download. You specifically need to download the "ISO IMAGE" files. There should be two of them- disc 1 and disc 2. After downloading, I recommend moving the files out of your downloads folder because you'll need to access them frequently.

The virtual hard disk drive program:

Like I said above, .iso files are digital copies of physical discs. Similarly, the way to use the files is via a digital version of a physical disk drive. "Mounting" the .iso files to a virtual disk drive is analogous to inserting a disk into a physical drive.

Windows 8 and above has a built-in ability to mount .iso files, but when I tried that, I got a notice that the file was corrupted. The internet recommended that a dedicated program might have more functionality. I chose the Elby Virtual CloneDrive program, which is free.

Installing the game:

After downloading and installing the virtual disk drive software, navigate to your .iso files, and right click on the file for disc 1. Scroll to "Open with", and choose "Mount Files with Virtual CloneDrive". It will now show up as a CD drive in This PC in the file explorer:

Double-click to open the drive and scroll to "setup.exe". Open the file to run the game installer.

The game will install in a typical way. I think the only non-default option I chose was "No, I will install DirectX myself". I didn't actually install DirectX, but everything is working fine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, maybe now it's built-in to Windows or something.

Running the game:

To run the game, just open the game shortcut like a normal program. If you can't find the shortcut or didn't create one during the install, go to your C: drive -> Program Files (x86) -> Nancy Drew -> Secrets Can Kill -> Game.exe

In order for the game to run, you need to have Disc 1 still mounted to your virtual drive. Unless you specifically unmounted it, it should still be there, but if you get a pop-up that says to insert the disc, the problem is probably that the disc isn't mounted.

I was expecting that I would have to run the game in Compatibility Mode to handle that it was made for fucking Windows 98, but I didn't have to do anything. It just worked with no adjustments. A miracle!!

Changing discs:

The original Secrets Can Kill was too big to fit on a single disc at the time it was made! They split it across multiple discs by location. The school is on disc 2, while all other locations are on disc 1. So if you need to move from the diner to the school for example, you have to change discs.

When you need to change discs, you'll get this screen:

WITHOUT closing the game program, minimize the game. Easiest way is by either pressing the windows key or alt+tab. Navigate to your .iso files, right click on the new disc, and choose Mount.

Navigate back to the game and click OK. Easy as that!

Whenever you fully exit and re-open the game, you have to open it with disc 1 mounted. So if you saved while at the school, you'll open the game with disc 1, load your save, and immediately switch over to disc 2.

And I think that's everything! Phew! This got a lot longer than I planned on. Feel free to send me questions if you're having trouble, but I may not know the answer. I'm not an expert in this stuff, I just spent some time poking around at it last week is all.

Have fun! Go manatees!

[rendy-a]

Meant to Be

Someone liked this old post I reblogged from @writingforatwistedworld today and it brought this writing prompt back to my attention.  This was such a cool idea, and since Veil has chosen not to write it, I thought I’d visit the idea with my own spin.

Confusion was the only thought you were able to summon in your head.  You remembered lights and sounds.  Honking maybe?  And now you were just barely conscious of lying on the ground with your head spinning.  What exactly happened?

Your head feels like it is splitting but somehow voices are beginning to come though.  “Coach, I think they are waking up!” a black-haired boy says as he kneels beside you, hovering over you protectively.  Were you at school?  You can’t remember.  Nor can you immediately place the boy who is so concerned about you.  He is speaking to you but it’s too hard to focus.  All you can do is notice the guilty look in his eyes and wonder what he did.  Suddenly, he stops speaking and looks across your body towards the field beside you.  You turn your head curiously and follow his gaze to see a red-haired boy running towards you at top speed.  Something about this tickles your memory.  You look again at the black-haired boy and notice a strange marking you hadn’t been able to bring into focus before.  It looked like a spade from a playing card.  Then you looked back at the boy coming closer and closer to your location.  Suddenly, you had it.  It was impossible, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d miraculously transported yourself into one of your favorite phone games; Twisted Wonderland. 

As sort of a test, you hesitantly spoke, “Deuce?”  The black-haired boy, Deuce, looks at you and you think him on the edge of tears.  “Thank Sevens!” he whispers as rubs your arm comfortingly.  The red-haired boy slides the last distance to reach your side in an anxious kneel.  “Ace?” you confirm groggily.  Ace looks at you with what you feel is fear in his eyes, and when he speaks, it is towards Deuce.  “Just what were you thinking?  You know the Prefect doesn’t have magic!”  Deuce looks away, it is certainly guilt on his face.  “I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.”  Ace scowls at Deuce and shouts, “Well you did and see what a mess you’ve made!”  You force yourself to a sitting position and wave Ace down.  “I’m fine, I’m fine.”  Then, still feeling a bit woozy, you amend, “Well, I think I’m GOING to be fine.”

Ace looks at you with concern and says, “I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.  Right now.”  Deuce intervenes, “I’ll do it.  It was my fault for throwing that disk so hard.”  Ace appears ready to retort angrily, so you wave them both away.  “I’ll go myself.  Or you can both come with.  We’re all buddies here, right?”  You watch them cautiously to confirm that this is the case.  After all, you weren’t pulled into a game every day.  Who knows what might be different.  Deuce answers you right away in a relieved affirmative while Ace only frowns mildly.  “Ok, but if you feel bad at all, I’m carrying you.  No complaints.”  You give him a shaky smile and let them guide you to the nurse’s office. 

It’s a little embarrassing, but there is so much that you don’t know about Night Raven College, that you end up claiming selective amnesia from the impact.  Your professors appear suspicious, but no one can offer an alternative reason for why you’ve forgotten so many simple things, like the layout of the school, while retaining such vivid memories of other experiences, like Riddle’s overbot incident.  So ultimately, they accept this odd explanation from you and assign your friends Ace and Deuce to once again play your guide at NRC.  The cast slowly re-introduce themselves to you.  Some find it remarkable and others unbelievable.  Idia finds it amusing, “Khee he he.  This is just like the plot of the manga Ramen Shop Summer where the protagonist gets in an accident in gym and forgets their crush!  But then they end up working together over the summer in a ramen shop, and Boom Badda Bing, romance!”  Then he shyly adds, “Maybe you’ll have your own summertime romance.  All the tropes are right for it.”  You chuckle with him but privately think, ‘If only you knew.’

A few days later at lunch, you were sitting at a table and rubbing your bandaged head softly while eating the sad sandwich you’d been able to cobble together with the junk in the fridge back at Ramshackle when your friends slam a plate down on either side of you, “Here Prefect, eat this,” and “I got something special for you,” come out of their mouths at the same time.  You look up at them surprised.  Deuce looks at your hand on your head and adds in a soft voice, “I feel bad for what I did so I thought this would help make up for it.”  Ace scoffs and interjects, “I know what the Prefect likes best.  Don’t worry about it and let them eat mine.”  You look at Ace’s plate and somehow, he is right, he has gathered one of your favorites to eat.  “Actually, this looks pretty good.”  Then you turn and reassure Deuce, “I appreciate the offer too, but you don’t have to feel bad.  I know it was an accident.”  They both seem happy at the outcome, and you enjoy a nice lunch.

As you are leaving the lunchroom, you pass a floating tablet (Idia you know), and it surprisingly speaks to you. “It’s just like my manga,” Idia comments.  You turn and look at the tablet quizzically and it prompts him to continue, “If this was a story, that would be a flag event between the Male Lead and Second Male Lead for your affection.”  You stumble over your reply, “But..but it isn’t a manga.”  The unsettling, “Kwee he he,” that emerges follows you all the way to your next special lesson. 

You were used to thinking of special lessons as when Crowley randomly shows up to class and everyone suddenly finds the motivation to pay attention, but apparently, this was a Very Special Lesson that they wouldn’t give the students any prior details on.  The older students seemed to know what it was about as the first year’s had gotten several secretive smiles and leading comments.  Rook passes you right before you enter and remarks with an expression both sly and amused, “It is a fine day for fate, is it not Prefect?”  You look at him puzzled as he continues past you to class, and you shrug as you enter the room and sit beside your friends.  Ace scowls and remarks, “They’ve been doing that all day and it’s getting on my nerves.”  Deuce is fidgeting more than usual, and you raise an eyebrow as thought to ask what’s up.  “What if it’s a test?” he asks nervously before flipping open a notebook.  “A little late to study then,” Ace scoffs before looking at you out of the corner of his eye.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  I’m sure it won’t be a test.”  You smile at his gesture.  Tests haven’t been easy for you these past weeks as you’ve not actually studied any of the curriculum for the classes. 

When Crewel stomps into class and sets a crate of potions on the desk, it startles you out of your thoughts.  You hear gasps from around the class and realize that most students seem to understand what is happening.  It is only you in the dark.  Then the Professor smiles slyly and declares, “It’s Matching Day.”  An eruption of conversation spreads across the room and Professor Crewel, appearing as excited as the students, surprisingly allows it.  ‘I can’t believe its today!’ and ‘I wonder if I’ll meet my pair!’ reach your ears.  You turn to Ace and find him looking at you with an expression you just can’t place.  You nod towards the Professor and ask, “You know what this is about?”  He looks at you startled, “You don’t know?  Its Matching day?”  When you shrug and continue to look at him with questions in your eyes he goes on.  “You know, the day you can take the potion to manifest your red string and try to find your Soulmate.  Matching Day!” 

It hits you suddenly like a blow.  ‘My god,’ you think, ‘This isn’t TWST at all.  Idia was right, there are too many tropes in this story.  I’m in someone’s Fanfic!  This is a damn Soulmate AU story!’  You weren’t sure what to say, but luckily, Professor Crewel had decided he’s allowed the pups to misbehave enough and cracked his whip over his gloved hand, “Settle down you mutts.  Good pups need to know how to behave properly if they are going to impress their mate!”  Silence is quickly restored as the excited students obediently wait for the Professor to continue.  “Come up when I call your name.  I don’t think I should have to explain, but just in case, let me remind you what you can expect.  When you drink the potion, you’ll feel a tug on your heart as your soul manifests your bond to your Soulmate.  After that, you’ll be able to see your red string in the general area of your pinky finger.”  A groan comes from an over-excited student, “We know, we know.” 

Crewel doesn’t take the interruption well this time and cracks his whip again, “STAY!  Pups need to learn to take instruction before receiving a treat!”  The student bashfully looks away and Crewel continues, “Remember to not get your hopes up.  It is very rare to find your Soulmate the first day you take your potion.”  This sobering comment seems to bring down the mood of the students.  Crewel smiles more gently at the students he’s fondly guided, “But be happy you are proud students of Night Raven College.  Many mages find they have Soulmates who are also proficient in magic, so your chances of meeting your Soulmate while in school here are raised.”  You turn to see how your friends are taking this news.  Deuce is looking intently at his hands, as though he will find his courage in the focus.  Ace is only looking at you, again with a look you just can’t read.

“Now, come to the front of the room as I call your name,” Crewel instructs.  It appears the students are being called alphabetically.  You wonder when you might be called as you don’t recall “Yuu” having a last name.  You focus a long time, making sure you don’t miss it but before your turn, your friend gets called.  “Deuce Spade!” Crewel summons loudly.  Deuce gulps beside you and stands suddenly.  Then he holds his hand up as though trying to fire himself up and marches determinedly to claim his potion.  He drinks it down and you wait with interest to see how Deuce would react.  You’d seen several others take the potion at this point, but this wasn’t just some NPC, it was your friend.  He concentrates nervously for several seconds before gasping and grabbing his chest.  Then he looks down at his hand and makes a sound between a sigh and a laugh.  “There it is!” he says and looks out the door where the string must lead.  Then he laughs again and looks toward where you and Ace sit with a smile and makes his ‘honor student’ pose.  You give him a thumbs up and pat his back as he rejoins you.

You want to ask him what it was like but the next name, “Ace Trappola!” breaks your concentration.  You hadn’t realized your other friend would get his turn so soon after.  You turn to Ace and give him an encouraging smile.  Ace looks deep into your eyes for a long moment before giving you a mischievous grin, “Wish me luck, Prefect!”  You give him an excited smile and some jazz hands to cheer him on and he goes happily to the front of the class.  You watch as he takes the potion and waits in a quiet meditation before he makes a gasp and grasps at something that only he can see.  Then he looks up and smiles over in your direction happily, “I knew it!” he laughs happily.  He returns to his seat with a bounce in his step and you look at him eagerly.  “Was it cool?” you ask.  He smiles at you, “It was the coolest thing ever.”  You have a million questions that come to mind, but you ask none of them as Deuce taps you on the shoulder.  You turn to look at him and he nervously tells you, “Prefect, it’s your turn.”

You look up at Professor Crewel who seems none too pleased to have you ignore his summons.  Great.  Somehow, you’d missed your turn being called and garnered his ire.  You gulp and stand to answer his summons.  When you grasp the potion, a question occurs to you and you ask, “Will this work for me?”  Professor Crewel smiles at your worry, “Not to worry, Prefect, even people without magic have Soulmates.”  It was more that you wondered if people from other worlds had Soulmates but you figured that wasn’t a conversation to have right now.  So, you smile at him as though satisfied with his response and drink the potion down.

At first it was nothing but bubbly in your stomach and then you felt giddy.  Like a drunkenness that had nothing to do with alcohol which rose from your stomach to take hold of your whole body.  Your heart beat faster and faster until you feel as alert as though you were running for your life.  Then, it was gone.  Mostly gone.  A tiny tingle remained, and you followed the sensation down to see the bright red string wound around your pinky.  It really worked. 

You looked toward your friends, wanting to share the moment with them and felt the weight of Ace’s gaze.  He was looking at you so intently it was startling.  You couldn’t break eye contact for a moment.  Then you felt a small tug and looked down at your finger.  The red string was tugging slightly, as though wanting you to follow it.  You didn’t have far to go.  You raised your eyes and found Ace holding his red string in his hand and you knew it connected to your own.  Well, that did make sense in a way.  If this was a TWST fanfic, your Soulmate had to be a member of the main case.  And now you knew, it was Ace.  You looked at Ace clutching the red string and thought that he held it like it was a lifeline, something he couldn’t live with if he let go.  Well, that was silly.  You were right here.  Perhaps it was due to the plot of the story, but you suddenly felt like you couldn’t bear to see him worried like that.

You went to him and stood in front of him, “So, you and me, huh?”  He looked up at you and said in a chocked voice, “Yeah, you and me.”  A clapping sound comes from behind you and then all around.  You are embarrassed to find that all your classmates are celebrating your union with Ace.  “What a fine surprise,” Professor Crewel says with a smile.  You don’t know what to do but Ace has no such qualms.  He grabs onto you and pulls you into a side hug with one arm will giving a V with his other hand.  You bashfully wind your arm around him and repeat the gesture yourself.  It seems like you’ve really fallen into the perfect romance fantasy.

The transition from friend to significant other was jarring but anytime you felt unsure about your new ties to Ace, you had only to look at him to feel reassured.  He was always holding the red string.  It was cute in a way, as though he thought about you so often, he had to hold onto the string to remind himself you were there with him in spirit.  You still felt safe seeing the string in his hand back then.

Why is Crowley always at the start of all your problems?  On a late spring day, the headmaster summoned you to his office.  You found it was never good news when he did this, and this time would prove no exception.  “Ah Prefect, how lovely to see you today,” he began carefully, as though sizing up how big a fuss you would kick up this time.  You hummed at him in a noncommittal way.  “Indeed,” he acknowledges your evasion and gets right into his secret business.  “I was wondering what you planned to do over Summer Break.”  You look at him deadpan, “Not do chores for you.”  He huffs at you in pretend amusement, “Ah HA ha.  Uh-hem.  That is to say, where do you plan to go while the campus is closed?”  Now this was actually news to you.  “What do you mean closed?  I’ll just stay here like I did over Winter Break.”  Crowley turns, unable to meet your eye, “Ah-HA hem, its just that we do the annual fumigation over summer so we need all living residents to be off-campus.”  Then much quieter, “The insurance wouldn’t allow it…I checked.”

You left the office not certain which was worse, that the headmaster actually considered leaving you in a poisoned campus over break or the fact that you suddenly had no where to go.  You walked lost in thought, mechanically headed to lunch when you hit something solid, and a hush fell over the room.  You felt a moment of worry until you looked up and into the quizzical face of Malleus and smiled.  This might seem like a dangerous occurrence to the random students around you, but it was nothing alarming to you.  “Hi there Hornton,” you warmly greet your fae friend.  He puts a finger to his chin and ponders to himself, “You seem quite distracted today, Prefect.  Is anything the matter?”  Happy to have someone to discuss it with, you give him a run-down on your situation.  “And so, I just have no idea where I’m going to go!” you finish in a flurry.  “Hmm,” Malleus hums in consideration, “That is a quandary.  I’d invite you to join me in Briar Valley but unfortunately Lilia has decided we are to take a, how do you call it, road trip this break.”  You can practically hear the air quotes in his voice as he says, ‘road trip.’

You give your friend a small understanding smile, “I get it.  I’m fine.  I just need to figure this out.  I’ll find what I’m looking for, I’m sure.”  This seems to perk your friend up, “Why yes, that might work.”  Then he saunters to a nearby table and picks up a vile of liquid.  You weren’t sure if this was part of someone’s lunch or classwork.  Sometimes it was like that at magic school.  As Malleus holds the vile, a green magic seeps from his fingers to engulf it and the liquid inside boils ominously.  Then the magic fades and the boiling stops.  He hands you the vile and instructs, “I will bestow a boon upon you.  Pour this tincture upon a mirror and the knowledge you need will be summoned forth.”  Great.  This was even better than posting an ad online.  You thank Malleus and give him a grateful smile. 

That is when you feel an arm slip over your shoulder and Ace appears at your side, “Say Prefect, what is going on here?”  You merely gesture as thought to say, ‘I’m talking to Malleus.’  Ace gives your friend a look that is downright insolent and you mentally scoff that only your Ace would be so bold as to have such an attitude with Malleus Draconia.  “Thanks for your help,” you offer your friend to give him an easy way to end the conversation.  Regardless of Malleus’s wishes, Ace jumps in and distracts you easily, “Hey Prefect, I heard you can’t stay over break this year.”  It’s a relief to talk it out with another person and you turn to tell your beau all about the chat in Crowley’s office.  By the time you pause to take a breath, Malleus has departed unnoticed.  You grip the flask, resolving to thank him more earnestly later, and slip it in your pocket.  Then you let Ace lead you away to your next class.  He obliges you by listening to all your complaints and agreeing in all the right places.  Not that it solved the issue at all, but it did make you feel better to have someone fully on your side to complain to.

After class, you automatically hold out your hand to walk with Ace to the alchemy lab, but he asks you to go on ahead instead.  It’s an unusual request but the mystery is cleared up before Professor Crewel arrives to begin your lesson.  “Hey Prefect, great news!” Ace shouts as he slips into the seat next to you, “I called my mom, and she says I can bring you home with me over break!”  At first, all you feel is the pressure being lifted.  Then comes the guilt.  “Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” you ask nervously.  “Nah,” Ace assures you, “Mom already knows about this.”  Then he holds up his hand where he is gripping the red string, “So it was easy to convince her.”  Then he gives you a mischievous smile, “Plus my bro has been away since he graduated, and I think Mom is getting lonely.  Won’t you come cheer up a poor lonely old woman, Prefect?” Ace says in mock sadness.  You swat him, smiling and chide, “Don’t talk about my future mother-in-law that way.”  Then you both laugh. 

Things seemed to finally be going smoothly, but of course, that couldn’t last.  The alchemy lesson had barely started when Headmaster Crowley arrives by bursting in through the skylight.  He was just as extra in-person as he was in game.  You chuckle to yourself as the rest of the class appears to become hyper-focused on the lesson.  Then, right before leaving, Crowley stops in front of your caldron and remarks, “Ah Prefect, will you stop by my office after your lesson?”  Ace leans in as Crowley retreats and whispers, “What is that about?”  You can only shake your head, “I have no idea.  Want to come with and find out?”  Ace gives the thread a stroke with his thumb, “Of course.  I can’t let a troublemaker like you out of my sight.”  You laugh at his joke and pat his arm, thankful for his backup.  You are sure you will need it.

When you and Ace arrive in the headmaster’s office, he looks up from his desk and lets out a squawk of surprise, “Ah!  Trappola, uh, I was not expecting you to be here as well.”  You feel like you’ve made the right choice in bringing him along.  “So, Headmaster, what’s this business you have with me?”  He looks away, avoiding your eye.  “Well, that.  So, you see…it turns out that our contract for the fumigation this summer does not include covering important school property with protective sheets.  Can you believe that!  Ah-hem, anyway, I’m going to have to ask you to stay until after the rest of the students have departed and cover the furniture in the classrooms before you go.”  The response from your boyfriend is immediate, “No.”  You pull back a smile you feel forming on your lips, “Well, there you have it.  I also have made plans for break, since you have so cruelly abandoned me.”  You can see the gears in his head turning as he thinks over the situation.

“Well,” you comment over your shoulder as you shake out a sheet over a cauldron, “At least he is paying us both to do this.  Thanks for keeping me company.”  Ace grins at you, “I can’t abandon my darling Prefect to be all by their lonesome right before a family trip!”  Then he sheepishly adds, “Plus I can use some extra pocket money to buy you a treat when we are back home.”  A family trip.  It had a nice sound to it.  You hum as you continue covering cauldrons with the large tablecloths Crowely had supplied.  “There,” you say and clap your hands once for emphasis, “That is the last one.  And…I think that is all the alchemy rooms.”  Ace gets a thinking expression, “Ah…so that leaves the elective rooms in the Senior’s tower and the botanical gardens.”  You shrug, “Wanna split them?”  Ace nods and you agree to cover the worktables in the botanical gardens while Ace climbs the tower to handle the senior’s classrooms. 

There are far fewer tables in the botanical gardens, so while it was a hike to get there, you finished fairly quickly.  When you add that to the fact that the mirror chamber was nearby, it didn’t surprise you that you arrived ahead of Ace.  Your small bag of clothes sat in the corner, ready to be taken through the mirror to the Queendom of Roses with Ace.  Until then, you had nothing to do here.  You circle the room, looking into the various mysterious mirrors.  Make a few faces and poses to pass time.  It was so boring.  You turn out your pockets, just looking for something to occupy your time and find two items inside.  One is the vial Malleus had given you to help you find a place for Summer Break.  The other was a candy wrapper.  You frown as you look at it.  This wrapper was left over from a candy you had on you when you arrived in Twisted Wonderland; one of the last ties to your old world that remained.  You haven’t thought about the old world for a while now.  Not since before you’d found your Soulmate.  Now, a feeling of melancholy washes over you.  Why had you stopped looking for a way home?  You didn’t even remember consciously giving up on that dream.

You hold the vial and consider it carefully.  What exactly had Malleus said this did?  Something about helping you find what you needed when you poured it on a mirror?  Well, there were plenty of mirrors available and you had time to kill.  Maybe, if you poured the potion, it would give you a clue on how you could return home someday.  You walked to the nearest mirror and uncorked the bottle.  The liquid flowed slowly out of the container as though it was molasses.  When it touched the mirror, it seemed to slip inside until a glossy shimmer coated the surface.  It rippled and you were aware that there were words to be seen inside.  You leaned closer and read the message.  Then you read it again.  And again.  By the fourth time, you were shaking so badly you could no longer read it.  It wasn’t a way to get home.  It was the summary of the fanfiction you were in. 

---

The Chain That Binds

When the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm is invited home with their Soulmate to visit the family, they never suspect the plan Ace has in store for them.  Sometimes the chain that binds you to a partner also binds you to a darker fate. 

TW Yandere, TW Imprisonment, TW Kidnapping

---

Just what kind of sick story was this? 

A click sounds behind you as the door closes.  Never had you heard a sound so ominous.  “Something wrong, Prefect?” Ace says carefully.  You notice he is gripping the string of fate tightly.  It no longer felt comforting but more like the hold a master would have on a dog’s leash.  “You seem kind of agitated.”  You try to downplay it, “Oh no, its nothing.”  He tilts his head, attempting to see past you and into the mirror.  You sidestep to make sure the view was blocked.  He gives you a cold smile, “Are you sure because I can feel your fear through the bond.”  You meet his eye for a moment and then bolt.  Ace is so much faster than you that you never had a real chance.  You scream out for help and Ace laughs and shouts with you, “Help! Help!”  You look at him in horror.  “Who do you think is left here to hear you, Prefect?  Its only us now.”  Then he pulls out his magic pen and casts a binding spell on you. 

You can only lay limply as Ace steps over to the mirror and reads what is inside.  “Hmm,” He finally says, “I don’t know where you get these ideas from, but I don’t think they are healthy for you.  You should stop consorting with people who put these things into your mind.  I’ll talk to my mom when we get home.  I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you stayed there instead of coming back to school.  That will take care of all these intrusive thoughts you have.”  His grip on the red string was so tight that you were beginning to feel it like a phantom pain in your heart.  “Don’t worry about a thing, Prefect.  I’m going to take care of you.  I know what you need,” then he turns and looks coldly into your eyes, “you were made just for me after all.  You’re supposed to be mine alone.”

Then as you struggle against your bonds, he lifts you up over his shoulder and drags you and your belongings to the central mirror.  He gives the mirror the destination as you take one final look at the place you’d considered your second home.  Then Ace carries you over the threshold of the mirror into the beyond. Unfortunately for you, this wasn’t the ending.  Your story was just beginning. 

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Hey, I've read your Drayton writings. He's such a goofball and i like how your writings portray him. I thought of a scenario that could have gone in the indigo disk involving him and/or kieran.

After the expedition, the main character gets badly injured from shielding Kieran being hit by terapagos's tera starstorm. Kieran is crushed with crippling guilt along with Drayton who is also furious at Kieran after he heard of the news. Feeling guilty because he could have protected her if he had gone on the expedition. They see the MC with big scar on their face and feel even more guilty while the MC try to comfort both of them.

(Haha, Kieran and Drayton rivalry/jealously go brrrr)

I was wondering if you could write something for this? (Romantic feelings are somewhat implied) Thx man.

This got lost to the void or requests but I'm so glad i finally got around to doing this one! It may take me ages but i will eventually do my requests. I did notice you used she in your request, i have written this in gender neutral but if you would prefer i change it feel free to let me know and i can fix it for you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of scaring and blood, fluff, Spoilers for the indigo disk.

Healing Scar | Drayton x reader (Hurt)

It was so dark, sounds blended together into one endless noise. Lights became shadows and your vision drew red. Blurring like a fogged up camera lens, the ground was non-existent below your frame, body numb and senses beyond recognition, all you could do was stare forward, the dancing lights and sounds soon echoing out into nothing but silence. The once red tinted vision, now black.

“Where are they Kieran? What did you do?” Someone was yelling, distressed maybe.

“Please calm yourself! There is no need to fight, this isn’t getting us anywhere!?” Another voice… calmer than the first but still loud enough to hear the words forming.

“I’m sorry! There was nothing that could have been done to stop this. You need to understand it wasn’t his fault!” More…? How many more people are around you? 

“Nothing? From what I can tell he stood there and DID NOTHING!” That voice… clearer now, closer. Drayton. Unmistakable, definitely him. 

“He was scared!  We all were, how were we supposed to know that would happen?!” Carmine, definitely her… The tinge of sarcasm in her natural tone made her voice so familiar to your ears.

“Guys stop this please! This is a hospital, you can’t yell here…” Who is this… Lacey? You were almost certain it was her, but she's so soft spoken it was hard to even tell. You could feel another person in the room… it must be Kieran, Drayton did yell his name if you remember.

“Kieran, you better star explaining what the hell happened down there or so help me i will-”

“That’s enough Drayton!” Crispin… That fire in his voice, when did he get here? Was he here the whole time? You were unsure but it was definitely him, and from the muffled bump, he must have grabbed Drayton. If only your eyes would open, or words could form, you could tell them you were okay. What was even happening?

“Drayton… perhaps you should step out for a moment, calm down a little bit.” Lacey chimed up again, voice much clearer now.

“NO!” That was loud. Even for Drayton. Seems even he realised how loud he was, if you could see the faces in the room you could guess how surprised everyone looked. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have shouted like that, I just… I can't leave them. I want, no, need to be here when they wake up. If I leave…”

“We understand, perhaps we should all just take a moment to breathe, Kieran?” Carmine's tone had calmed significantly from what it was before, sounding almost motherly.

“Right… as much as i want to stay, i’ll leave for now.” Kieran’s voice was shaken, anger perhaps? Guilt? It was unclear.  

The sound of shuffling footsteps soon filled your ears, multiple people were leaving. A clicking sound soon cut the footsteps off when a door closed. A chair scraping sound pierced your ears. It was loud and harsh, But not as loud as Drayton’s words. “I should have been there… Why did I say no… I’m such a dumbass, if i’d just gone with you i could have… You wanted me to go so badly, to see Area zero. The sparkle in your eye, I should have just gone. I shouldn’t have left you alone…”

“shush…”

“What?” Drayton perked up, your sudden word cut through his like a knife. Whilst your eyes were closed, the sudden shadow passing through your eyelids confirmed he was now leaning over you from your left. Though his presence was known to you, words were not. That single word was all you could muster - Your eyes on the other hand finally decided to be of use to you and open. Though agonisingly slowly. “Oh thank god… You’re alive, actually alive.”

“They’re awake…?” Kieran’s voice came from the door, you could still see Drayton’s face in your view, in fact it was the first thing you saw. His eyes, scanning your features, nothing but gratitude and admiration in them, hair hanging on his face, messy and unkempt. Tears began to fill so he refused to stain your face with them. At least that was how he looked before Kieran entered the room again. Head snapping so fast he could have gotten whiplash. “I left my jacket here, are they actually awake?”

“Yes, now get out.” Drayton snapped, backing away from your vision allowing your eyes to adjust to the lights around you. 

“Can I see them?” Kieran responded quickly, as if trying to cut Drayton off. “Just for a second?”

Before Drayton could even open his mouth, with the little strength you had gained back, you grabbed the cuff of his sleeve which caused his head to snap back again. He really needs to stop doing that. “Hey… Let me help you sit up.”

He had seen the nurse adjust your bed earlier that day so you were almost laying down, so he did the same thing just sitting you up slowly instead as his arm rested on your stomach as support so you would fall in the new upright position. You could see Kieran now, he looked awful. Not physically, he didn’t have a scratch on him. Emotionally, he was defeated, there was nothing in his eyes but guilt and hate. Poor kid couldn’t even look at you, his eyes were fixed on the wall next to him, occasionally looking at Drayton who was practically staring holes straight through Kieran’s body. Turning back to Drayton, you attempt to convey to him that you want Kieran to stay, darting your eyes between him and Kieran. He got the message. 

“Kieran! They want to see you… But you really don’t need to come over, standing there, far away is fine.” Swatting him in the arm, you send your dragon boy a glare which causes him to recoil his comment and blush embarrassed. “Just kidding.”

Passing Kieran a small smile, you lift your free hand up, as Drayton grabs your other, sitting back down in the chair he had practically lept from earlier. His thumb runs gently over the back of your hand, as his attention is drawn back to the timid boy standing opposite him, now at the railing of your bed. Kieran didn't take your hand instead he just stared at your face. “I’m sorry…”

Confusion returned to you, sorry for what? He was okay, that's all that mattered to you, he wasn’t hurt from what you could see, no scratches or bruises. Bit of dirt he hadn’t cleaned and some bits of crystal dust. No wounds.

“I’m so sorry…” Kieran muttered eyes tracing your face as tears threatened to fall. He hated how vulnerable he was in this moment, he wanted to be strong but the guilt that flooded his body was too strong, a tidal wave.

Drayton used his Rotom phone to show you what Kieran was looking at. It was bad, a large scar ran from your right ear, across your cheek and nose, then ending just under your left eye. Another on your forehead doing the same thing. Only thinner but deeper than the cheek scar. Clean tho, no residual damage aside from the giant scar and a few cuts around your features. So that was why your vision turned red. Kieran couldn’t bear to see the surprise on your face, at well… seeing your face.

“Say sorry as much as you want, nothing… is gonna change what happened down there. Nothing…” Seems Drayton’s own guilt came crashing back again. The both of them were ashamed for different reasons.

Drayton for not being there with you, for turning you down and not being there to protect you. He loved you so much, more than words could describe and yet here you were. Kieran for the opposite, he went with you because he wanted to know more, to be better, stronger. To find the secret of area zero But when push came to shove, he stood there. Feet firm on the ground, unmoving as attack after attack came towards his little group. Only when your own body dove into his in a tackle, to knock him out of the way from whatever else came at you, and your blood stained his face did he finally move.

“You think I don't know that?” Kieran snapped back, fists clenched against the railing of your bed, head hung low. “Stop rubbing it in my face Drayton!”

You felt like a kid between these two, the bickering back and forth between them sounded like siblings fighting over something trivial. So you made an attempt to comfort them. Drayton was easy, all you had to do was gently squeeze his hand and send him a warm but meaningful smile and he was completely calm again. Placing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand as he gently stroked your hair.

Kieran was about to leave, turning his back to the scene in front of him only for your free hand to grab his wrist forcing him to stay, the look you gave him was subtle, but it spoke louder than any words you could say. The honesty in them, forgiveness. You didn’t blame him for any of this and you needed him to know that. If yanking him into a hug was how to do that then so be it. With an aggressive tug you pulled him into you, his head landing on your shoulder as your arm latched onto his back, handing rubbing his side reassuringly. He finally cried, hiding his face in your shoulder, his arms tightening on you. Drayton didn't say anything, instead mimicking your action to  Kieran, no snarky comment or blame-full actuation.

[reachartwork]

What is Super Danmaku Maker?

Yes, I really do have this many projects, I'm one of those people who procrastinates by starting new projects. Anyway.

Super Danmaku Maker is a danmaku (bullet hell) engine that I’m designing to be a flexible, multipurpose tool for creating any kind of shoot-'em-up (shmup) project. Whether it’s individual spell cards, full boss battles, levels, or even entire games, the goal is to provide an easy-to-use, node-based interface that caters to both beginners and experienced designers.

Computational Efficiency via Precomputation One of the primary architectural goals of Super Danmaku Maker is to make bullet patterns computationally cheap at runtime. This is achieved through precomputation: bullet patterns are calculated as compositions of mathematical transformations during the design phase using calculus. It turns out that it is useful, actually! Instead of simulating the motion of bullets or tracking them individually as objects, we turn bullet patterns into lookup tables.

Instead of performing complex calculations every frame for every bullet, the engine simply "looks up" where the bullet should be based on the precomputed data. This trades off some load time for designers and additional disk space for buttery-smooth performance during gameplay. With this approach, the engine can easily handle 20,000+ bullets onscreen at once at a stable 60+ fps during testing. For comparison, Touhou's bullet cap of 2000 bullets is easily broached and hard caps at my screen's refresh rate (144 fps).

A Spiritual Successor To An Extremely Obscure Freeware Game Super Danmaku Maker draws inspiration from Fraxy, an obscure tool for creating top-down shooter boss encounters I used to be obsessed with as a kid. While Fraxy focused primarily on designing Gradius/R-Type/Darius-style bosses, with other functions developed via some crazy hacker bullshit, Super Danmaku Maker expands the inbuilt scope significantly:

Design enemies, bosses, full levels, and entire games.

Create player characters and weapons, complete with custom behaviors and abilities.

Support for arbitrary keyboard and mouse input, making it possible to design unconventional control schemes.

The vision is for this engine to act as a highly specialized, high-level programming language (or in layman's terms - a game engine) built on top of C# for shmup creation. Beginners will find it accessible and intuitive, while power-users can push the boundaries of what’s possible with crazy wizard bullshit and advanced setups that even I can’t anticipate right now.

Node-Based Interface The core of Super Danmaku Maker is a node-based interface, similar to Blender’s Geometry Nodes. Instead of writing complex code, users will connect and configure nodes to:

Define bullet patterns.

Build complex behaviors for bosses, levels, and player characters.

Experiment with bullet path changes like speed changes, rotations, curling motions, and more.

Define bullet & entity behavior in response to arbitrary triggers (such as distance from an object, distance from the edge of the screen, timers, collision, etc.)

This visual, modular approach empowers creators to focus on the art of designing fun and challenging gameplay, without needing extensive programming knowledge.

Future Sharing and Online Play Although the exact details are TBD, the long-term goal is to enable designers to share their creations easily through an online portal. Players would be able to download and play these custom levels and games without needing to install additional tools.

Okay, that's all. Stay tuned!

[queenofsquids]

Thanks to Aubrey_Silver and toomanypictures1 on Flickr for the thread about head removal in the Suzette group!

So I heated the head then pushed down on the spring/neck disk from above with a pencil while I pulled the head up and off. I wanted to apply pressure to the spring so I didn't sproing it out pulling on it. This way it didn't stretch out at all. Head came right off, it's not super tight (and it's thinnish vinyl).

So I took all the disintegrating hairs out and put her in a wig for now while I think about rerooting. This wig is a Monique Penny in size 4. I had a whole row of wigs to try on but I just got carried away photographing this one cause it fits so well. Size 4-5 wigs are a bit too big imo, and it was damned hard to find one this small.

I would really like to see her in red hair. I swear I had a red Monique wig this size fifteen years ago, I've no idea where it could have gotten to 🫣

Shoes are hard as well; her feet are too big for vintage Barbie.

But this outfit is from a porcelain Bab (I think) and it goes on pretty well. Miss Suzette has like negative thigh gap though so things get weird up there.

Yeah I think I will reroot her someday. I would really like red hair with poodle bangs. Her rooting holes mostly shrank well with heat except the second row in front where her bangs were. That is torn a bit and thin. Not ideal for my ham fisted self to do my third ever reroot on maybe. But I can probably accomplish it. Possibly.