#chilled cow radio

[blake25537-blog]

LoFi and Learning: Boosting Productivity and Creativity Through Music!

In the vast world of music, there exists a genre that has quietly made its way into the study rooms, cozy corners, and workspaces of millions seeking solace and productivity in their daily routines. LoFi music, characterized by its low fidelity sound quality, has become a cornerstone for those looking to enhance their productivity and creativity. This article delves into the essence of LoFi music, its impact on learning and creativity, and how it has become an indispensable tool for many in their quest for focused work sessions and innovative thinking.

What is LoFi Music?

LoFi, short for low fidelity, is a genre of music that embraces imperfections in the recording and production process, creating a sound that is inherently raw and nostalgic. It often incorporates elements such as ambient sounds, vinyl crackles, soft beats, and mellow melodies, crafting an atmosphere that is both calming and conducive to concentration. Unlike high-fidelity recordings that aim for crystal clear sound quality, LoFi celebrates the subtle noises and distortions that come with analog recording techniques.

The Science Behind Music and Productivity

Research has consistently shown that music can significantly affect our mood, cognitive functions, and overall brain health. Specifically, music with a slower tempo and less intrusive melodies, like LoFi, can help reduce stress and anxiety, thereby creating an optimal environment for learning and creativity. Studies suggest that the moderate ambient noise of LoFi music can enhance creativity by promoting a moderate level of distraction, which encourages individuals to think more abstractly and come up with innovative solutions.

LoFi and Learning: A Perfect Harmony

The simplicity and repetitive nature of LoFi music make it an ideal background for studying and learning. It fills the silence without demanding attention, allowing learners to focus on the task at hand without being pulled into the complexities of the music itself. This is particularly beneficial for tasks that require prolonged concentration, such as reading, writing, or complex problem-solving. By providing a consistent auditory backdrop, LoFi music can help minimize external distractions and foster a state of flow, where learners are fully immersed in their work.

The Role of LoFi in Enhancing Focus

Focus is a critical component of effective learning and productivity. In a world filled with digital distractions, maintaining focus can be a challenge. LoFi music, with its steady beats and soothing melodies, can act as a buffer against these distractions. The rhythm of the music can help synchronize the listener's brainwaves, promoting a more focused and meditative state. This is especially useful for individuals who find silence overwhelming or who are easily distracted by random noises in their environment.

Boosting Creativity Through Ambient Sounds

Creativity thrives in environments that are relaxed yet stimulating. LoFi music, often infused with ambient sounds like rain, cityscapes, or café chatter, can recreate the atmosphere of a creative workspace without the listener having to leave their home. These sounds can trigger the imagination, transporting listeners to different places and times, and sparking creative ideas. The use of ambient noises in LoFi tracks can also mimic the experience of working in a public space, which has been shown to enhance creativity due to the variety of background noises.

Incorporating LoFi into Your Learning and Work Routine

Adopting LoFi music as part of your study or work routine can be simple and rewarding. Here are some tips to get started:

Create a dedicated playlist: Curate a collection of LoFi tracks that you find particularly calming and conducive to concentration. Many music streaming platforms already offer pre-made LoFi playlists tailored for study and relaxation.

Use LoFi music as a timer: Utilize LoFi music tracks or mixes of a specific length to time your work sessions. This can help you adhere to the Pomodoro technique or any other time management method, encouraging regular breaks to maintain productivity.

Adjust the volume appropriately: The music should be loud enough to mask distracting noises but not so loud that it becomes the distraction. Experiment with volume levels to find the perfect balance for your work environment.

Explore different sub-genres: LoFi music encompasses a wide range of sounds, from jazz-infused tracks to those with hip-hop beats. Experiment with different sub-genres to keep your playlist fresh and engaging.

Conclusion

LoFi music offers a unique blend of relaxation and stimulation, making it an ideal companion for learning and creative endeavors. By fostering a focused and imaginative state of mind, LoFi can enhance productivity, reduce stress, and inspire innovative thinking. As we continue to navigate the challenges of maintaining concentration in an increasingly noisy world, LoFi music stands out as a simple yet powerful tool to create a serene and productive workspace. Whether you're a student, professional, or anyone in between, incorporating LoFi music into your routine might just be the key to unlocking your full potential.

For more information, CLICK HERE!

[illum1z]

Moonshine Peaches

Country Dilf! Choi San x F!Reader

tags: age gap, best friend’s dad, deep south, vacay in the mountains, southern accent(YUMMM), pet names (peaches, sweet pea, baby, etc.), teasing, dom san, fingering, oral(f!receiving), overstimulation, size kink, don’t get caught, san wants that cookie BAD, praise, BIG ARMS, headlock, reader is on birth control so he's INNIT...

wc: 8.6k

summary: Your best friend would not quit nagging you at joining her to go visit her family’s house in the mountains deep in the rural corners of Tennessee. Summer was here, some fresh air would be nice. Why not?

notes: a gift from me (raised in deep Tennessee) to you. Makes me miss home, but I get to visit this summer again so YIPPEE!!

tracklist- american teenager, she keeps me up, secret

You hadn’t seen a power line for miles. You might as well have been in heaven. Lying in the bed of your best friend's dusty taupe pick-up truck, the sun cast beautiful flowing masterpieces on your skin through the tall, looming forests of Fraser firs that coated the mountains like a blanket.

The air was chill and fresh, your ears still not used to the thinness, your hearing slightly muffled as the wind rushed past them. The sun was warm, and the air was comfortable, perfectly cool. The long, curving roads wound and turned seemingly endlessly. Around every corner was either a breathtaking view of the far countryside, tall green hills with vast acres of forest below that you would be bound to lose yourself in. Or vast, green fields with a couple of groups of brown spread about, which you could only assume were cows.

Your best friend was driving in the front seat, all windows lowered as “American Teenager” blasted from her little, busted-up radio. The sun caught her skin beautifully as one hand rested out the window and the other steered. She sang loudly and happily, you joining in from the back.

As the song played, you thought long and hard about the decision of coming out here with her. You and Arin had been together since freshman year in high school. She had been living with her grandma when you guys met, both city girls, it seemed.

Until you came over to her house for the first time, and her walls were littered with deer heads and fishing poles. She laughed at your reaction, excited to tell you all about her family and her lifestyle. About how she grew up deep in the rural south before moving closer to the big cities to help pursue better education and better job opportunities.

She lived with her grandma in the city, while her divorced parents remained in the countryside, with separate housing. Her mom lived in a modest trailer off a dirt road closer to the north, while her dad lived in a rustic, wooden house deep in the Smokies. 

Years later, both of you in your sophomore years of University, she had brought up the idea that to kick off summer break, you should come with her on her annual visit to her dad's.

You knew next to nothing about her father, only that he lived in the woods and was divorced. She never really talked about her parents, and you never chose to pry.

Ecstatic, to say the least, were you to hear that she wanted to bring you along. You always connected well with nature, and a week's trip into the woods would probably cure every little thing bothering you in an instant.

So here you were, 4 hours into the trip, 2 hours left as you both cruised through the mountains, literally never feeling freer in your life. 

Your lungs felt cleaner, and your bones felt like they were melting into your skin as you deflated in the truck bed, falling deep into a nap as your friend continued driving home, knowing the roads with the back of her hand.

The truck rumbling and your speed decreasing awoke you from your nap. You rose, stretching and yawning, cursing yourself for sleeping on such a bumpy surface. When you took in your surroundings, you noticed you weren't on the road anymore. Instead, you were deep in the forest, and every surrounding area was just tall, looming trees. The birds sang and the wind whistled, the sun barely peeking through the green canopy of leaves way above. The truck was slowly climbing up a narrow dirt road, even deeper into the mouth of trees.

“Are we almost there, Arin?” You continued to glance around, enamoured by the pure beauty and richness of where you were right now. 

“Just about a mile more and we’ll be up the driveway.” You snorted, and she sighed, expecting this. 

“This is the driveway? Bitch this is not real, you live in Narnia.” Arin laughed, waving her hand, urging you to crawl back through the back window into the backseat so she could talk to you better. 

Shimmying back in the window, you lay on your stomach in the back seat. “It is really beautiful out here, though, Arin.” You smiled and she smiled back, a bright, radiant one.

“Yeah, I missed it. But after a couple of days, I'll get sick of getting bit up by bugs and all the coyotes and their incessant howling.” She groaned and shrugged.

“But it's always nice to see my dad. He’s a super, like, handy guy, always fixin’ stuff and whatnot. I gotta ask him to look at my truck because it’s been making that weird scraping sound lately. I know he could fix it no ish.” You listened as she talked, continuing to talk about her childhood. Spew random facts about the local wildlife, and the best scenic spots as well.

Before long, a clearing appeared, in the middle of which was the most beautiful, quaint cabin. Fragrant cedar wood with black trimming; the house also had a decent-sized fire pit, close to the edge of the clearing where the forest swallowed everything up again.

It was so strange, the presence the cabin seemed to have. It was the center of attention, oddly out of place, but it still felt like it belonged. Like the forest accepts it as part of it. Maybe you were overanalyzing things, but you couldn’t deny how beautiful the whole scene was.

“Alright, and here we are.” Stopping the truck beside another, taller, and newer truck, she shifted into park and took out the key. She turned to you and grabbed your hands in hers. “Okay, so, let's get the luggage, I don't know where my dad is right now–” she stopped to mull and try to think if she might have a clue.

“He could be sleeping, I don’t know. But I know he’s here because his truck is here. I thought he would be out front to greet us like he said… guess not.” She shrugged and let go, opening her door and walking to the truck bed. You followed suit, stepping out onto the gravel with a satisfying crunch. You and Arin began sorting through luggage, trading bags and freaking out when you both realized you left the cooler back on campus. 

“Fuck!” Arin yelled at the sky in utter defeat. “We had to leave the whole cooler. I had moonshine peaches in there.” You sigh, upset about the cooler, consoling your friend. You rubbed her back in soothing circles as she dramatically let her forehead fall against the truck bed.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything, a thick, strong arm snaked around your waist and gripped you tight, fingers digging into your stomach. You were lifted into the air, your back pressed against a firm, built chest, before a scream started to bubble up. Arin screamed at the same time as you, feet also off the ground, with an arm around her waist, too.

“Gotcha.” A teasing voice sounded from behind you two, you were set down in a split second as Arin broke into a big smile and ran to hug the person.

“Dad! What the hell you scared the shit out of us.” You stood by the truck and watched as the two of them hugged.

Oh god.

Oh my god.

Yeah, this was insane.

Her dad was insanely hot. Sporting a black compression tank top that traced every curve and dip on muscle from his chest to his abdomen, dark blue jeans that hugged his thick thighs, and a beige pair of chaps. He had an orange and black flannel tied around his waist and a sturdy pair of cowboy boots on him. And don't even get started with his face.

Plush lips, defined nose, eyes like a hawk. His black hair was tousled, strands falling over his forehead, and a clear pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His large, meaty arms wrapped Arin tightly in a hug before turning to you and smiling. He had that same radiant smile his daughter had. His pretty eyes crinkled as he laughed at your expression.

He reached forward and rubbed your upper arm apologetically. “I’m sorry for scarin’ you darlin’.” The pet name made the neurons in your brain go haywire as he stepped closer to you, his arms coming up and around to envelop you in a hug next.

His arms flexed as they closed around your waist, hand locking at your hips. Instinctively, your hands came up and wrapped around the back of his neck. A rather intimate hug that was over before it even began.

“I can't believe this is my first time meetin’ you, peaches. You’re all Arin ever talks about whenever she comes down and sees me. Makes me think she misses you more than her old man.” He pouts playfully, looking at Arin, who was rolling her eyes, then looking back at you. He smiled and leaned down to half whisper in your ears.

“See-” he pointed a thumb behind him at her. “She doesn’t even love me.” Arin stomped over and playfully pushed her dad away from you, picking up your luggage and walking away.

“Dad, stop being a baby and help us make a mess of your house with all our stuff.” You started picking up some luggage, and just as you went to reach for the last bag, Arin’s dad grabbed it. You looked up and locked eyes with him, seeming like he was already looking at you before.

He smiled at you again, warm and welcoming. “Mr. Choi.” You forced the words out of your mouth, trying not to trip over them. “It's nice to meet you, thank you for letting me stay.”

San waved a hand at you and scoffed like it was no big deal. “You are more than welcome, c'mon now. My daughter has never been happier since becomin’ friends with you. You’re doin’ me a favor by not sending her home to me all angsty and irritated. And please, call me San. No need to be so polite with me, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, taking every inch of your willpower to look anywhere but his arms, holding the suitcase like it weighed nothing. Arin came back out with a new pep in her step as she wrapped her arm around yours and began leading you away. “Quit holding her up, now I have to show her around.” 

“Bye, honey, love you too.” He waves to his daughter.

 “See you soon, peaches!” he calls to you. You quirked your head around to look at him while Arin led you away, catching him staring you down intently just as you turned the corner into the doorway.

When he's out of sight, you turn to your best friend, trying to calm your racing heart. “Peaches? Is he serious, Arin?” She shrugged. like it was no big deal, leading you down the hallway to a set of bedrooms.

“I don’t know (Name), he just has nicknames for everyone, he always calls you that.”

After a couple of hours of unpacking and getting settled, you and Arin were sitting on the living room couch, cuddled into each other, reading your respective “assigned books” for the summer. You both were readers and were eager to reach a 50-book goal by the end of the summer. So you guys pick books for each other and read them together.

The fireplace crackled, and a warm, calming atmosphere descended on the room, nearly lulling you to sleep. You hadn’t seen Mr. Choi since meeting him outside earlier that day. You wanted to ask Arin where he went, but you thought she would think you were weird for wanting to keep tabs on her dad. So you just didn’t say anything.

But you must have been thinking about it too hard because a minute later, Mr. Choi walks into the living room.

“Arin, honey, will you go start up the bonfire for me, please? I wanna show (Name) here down to the lake.” Your eyes widened and stared at Arin pleadingly not to leave you by yourself, but she had already stood up and began making her way towards the fire pit excitedly. 

“Oooh! You’re gonna have so much fun out here with us. Go with him, it's so nice. I'll catch up when I’m all done.” And she disappeared. You turned to her dad, a nervous smile on your face. He looked completely relaxed, studying your anxious body language carefully, holding eye contact for just a second too long. But he suddenly turned around and began walking to the front door.

“Cmon, follow me.” You hesitated for a second before finding your feet again and walking fast to catch up with him.

It was warm outside, the sun in the last stages of a sunset, the sky a deep blue merging with vibrant oranges. Fireflies danced around the air in a light show of yellow deep within the forest. The wind rushed by silently, and the trees swayed in response to its whispers.

San wordlessly led you down the driveway a bit until he turned onto a small and obscure dirt path that led into the woods. The woods were silent but also so full of life. You felt as if you whispered something everyone and everything within a mile would hear.

But the toads were croaking, and the cicadas were singing in a way that could lull you to sleep again. It was a lot darker now that you had strayed from the house, the only light coming from the sliver of sun left through the canopy.

San stuck close to your side, careful not to lose you. He still hadn’t said a word, and it was beginning to unnerve you a little.

After a little more trekking, you came to a small lamppost that signifies the end of the path, and further past, you noticed a boat tied to a pier and one of the most gorgeous little lakes you had ever seen. Surrounded by tight walls of tall, dark trees, it stood still, and only the slight sloshing of water could be heard.

“Woah.” You walked past San and onto the pier, taking in the view before you. “This is doing more for me than any ibuprofen I've ever tried.”

That gets a heart laugh out of him, a handsome one at that. He's walked up closer behind you as you continue to gaze at the lake.

“Y’know I reckon it’s perfect weather to go swimming in, whaddya say?” Your eyebrows raise as you turn to see San staring at you with a sly smile and a teasing look in his eyes.

You immediately know what's coming. Quickly, you zip your body around and position yourself behind him. His gaze and his body follow you just as fast.

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, nervous giggles bubbling out as you speak, and genuine adrenaline rushes through your veins. San stayed put and didn't move, his shoulders hunched like he would pounce at any moment, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he kept his eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t dare what, sweet pea? What am I going to do?” The smile on your face was impossible to keep down as your heart raced.

“It's gonna be cold!” You squealed as he suddenly jerked forward like he was going to get you. He chuckled and suddenly relaxed his body. He stood up straight and put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright, you can stop givin’ that look now I ‘m not gonna do it.” He smiled and backed away from you slowly, your eyes narrowed, hesitating to turn back and look at the lake again.

“If I turn around and you–” San leans his head forward and makes a stupid, confused face, pointing at himself as if to ask, “who me?”

“--yes, you. I’ll kill you.” He crossed his big, strong, thick arms across his chest and stared at you with an eyebrow raised in a challenge. But he quickly switched to playful intrigue when he caught the way your eye flicked down to his biceps and glued onto them for just a second too long.

You locked eyes with him again and stared for a good minute before you slowly turned back around to the lake. There was no sound of movement behind you. Maybe he really was done playing games. You turned around to give him shit about his behavior but he wasn't there anymore. Confused, you wondered if he jumped in or went back to the cabin.

You turned back around to the lake only to come face to face with none other than San himself. He had bent down so your noses were brushing, and he smiled before picking you up bride style and falling backward into the water with you in his arms.

Before you could scream, you had fallen in the water, wrapped in San’s arms. When you both emerged from under the water, you were both laughing hysterically. Splashing at each other and trying to swim back to land.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, Mr. Choi?” You panted as you lifted yourself onto the edge of the pier, legs dangling off the edge as you sat facing the lake. San remained in the water, swimming to float in front of where you sat, looking up at you.

His hair and his tank top were now soaking wet, and the gold rays of the sun shone off his damp skin beautifully. You were staring, and he had noticed.

San swam closer, now directly in front of your legs. The toads croaked louder, and owls began calling into the deep forest. You craned your neck down to give him your full attention, your feet swung back and forth in the water, tracing patterns in the lake.

San watched you for a moment, This was the most relaxed you had been since arriving on the property. The sun slowly began to sink behind the mountains in the distance, and a chill wind bit at your skin as the sky faded into hues of blues and orange.

“My little girl’s got herself a real pretty friend dun’ she?” His large hands clasped around each of your ankles, tugging teasingly like he’d pull you in. Your breath hitches at the warmth of his hands around your cold, wet legs.

“Mr. Choi-” He laughed annoyedly, akin to frustration as his last name slipped from your lips yet again.

“C’mon, baby, what did I tell you?” You quirked an eyebrow in question, then he yanked you down back into the water. But instead of letting you sink, he kept one arm firm around your waist while the other held your shoulder. Your faces were inches apart, and he gazed into your eyes, not even blinking.

“You can’t seem to remember my name. Let's practice, okay?” His voice lowered to a whisper, with his chest pressed to your own, you could feel the rumble in your body from his words. The hand on your shoulder moved to your collarbones, drifting gently in barely there touches. Up the side of your neck, across your cheek until his thumb was on your bottom lip, pulling down slightly as he admired the plumpness.

“My name is San,” he mumbled, moving to trace the tip of his nose up and down the side of your throat. “Repeat it after me, peaches.” He mumbles in your ear, smirking against the shell when he feels you jolt. 

“S-San..” You tried to say it steadily, but your voice trembled just slightly. Of course, he caught it.

He breathed in deeply and smiled before moving his lips right in front of yours, hovering right above them, so close that a gust of wind could close the gap between them.

“I love how you say it, (Name).”He drawled lowly right against your lips.  It was the first time he had ever said your actual name around you, and you couldn’t deny the way he basically moaned around it had your heart racing. “You seem scared, babydoll, don't tell me you’re scared o' me?” His eyes lock with yours in an intense staredown, lids narrowed with his lips stuck out in a faux pout.

Your hands shot out and gripped the straps of his tank top in each hand to hold yourself steady. He smelled so good, and the slow, condescending tone of his whispers was enough to make you a little dizzy.

“‘M not scared…” You whispered, gnawing at your bottom lip nervously, the tangy taste of blood flooding your tongue.

San held his mouth open right above your own, the thin layer of skin only slightly brushing, tickling almost. His breathing was shaky, and his eyes darted all over your face quickly like he was chasing a laser on it. His arm around your waist squeezed like he was restraining himself, his forehead resting against your own, and his hand cradling your jaw like it was sacred.

His brows knitted in frustration in the most pitiful expression when his eyes roved all over you, your body pressed to his, and the adorable “please” look in your eyes. “Mmm wanna kiss ya’ so bad,” San whined so quietly it was like he was talking to himself.

“Wanna touch you, taste you….” San’s chest hurt. He felt like such a sick guy, wanting his daughter's best friend as badly as he did. Every story he heard of you from his daughter painted you as such a sweetheart, and here you were in front of him finally, and oh…

There was no way San was letting you leave after this trip without him getting his hands on you.

“Wanna thank you for being so good to my daughter.” The smile on his lips contradicted his words. Like his body knew that the lie he just told was ridiculous. This had nothing to do with Arin. And he knew that. He wanted you for you. He wanted you for himself. Even if that makes him a bad, bad man.

You whimpered, you wanted to kiss him, but that means the line would officially be crossed, and there would be no going back. Your lashes fluttered, and his chest rose and fell, his hands came up, and his calloused fingers traced feather-light patterns on the back of your neck.

But before anything could happen, you could hear your name being called in the distance. “(Name)! Dad! Bonfire’s good to go!” 

Quickly, you and San separated with the speed of opposing magnets. You scrambled onto the pier as San stayed in the water, laughing at your frantic attempt to get back on land.

You sneered at him and stood up as your friend ran onto the pier. She saw how soaked to the bone you were and scowled. “Dad, did you push her in? He always does this shit…” he walked over and stared down her dad who was oh so innocently climbing back onto the dock.

“Nope, she got scared and fell into herself. Honest. I think she’s just a little jumpy.” You wanted to kick him, how did he act so innocent like he wasn’t the one who almost jumped your bones in the lake?

 Arin stuck her tongue out at her dad and turned to you. “Cmon y y'all will dry up by the bonfire really quick.”  You watched as she walked away, turning your head to see San’s eyes trained on you. The look in his eyes wasn't anything short of hot-blooded. You stayed for a moment, feeling like even if you moved an inch, he’d grab you and have his way.

His tongue clicked, and he nodded his head at the house, a grin creeping onto his lips. He walks past you as he speaks, a hand coming down and squeezing the side of your waist like an encouragement to move.

 “C’mon, sweetpea, snap out of it.”

You sat in a wooden rocking chair around the pit, the woods dark and looming all around, with the only source of light being the roaring fire in front of you. Arin sat to your left, rambling about a trip she took out of state with her sorority, scrolling through her endless gallery, insisting on telling a story for every picture.

Unfortunately, you were unable to focus. The fire dried all the lake water from your body, but not the wetness between your thighs. Your skin burned, and as you flicked your eyes over to San, who sat directly across from you two behind the fire.

As Arin talked, San’s eyes stayed locked on you and you alone. A stare hotter than the fire itself. Anytime Arin looked up from her phone, San’s eyes switched over and gave her his full attention. But every time she looked elsewhere, his eyes were all over you.

Tracing up your legs, staring at your tummy, up your torso, back onto your eyes. This was too much. He literally would not stop staring. It was taking every ounce of self control San had to not jump up and snatch you up, drag you beyond the tree line, and fuck you on the forest floor untl you were crying from overstimulation. All he wanted to do was play with you. Get his big, rough hands on your soft, pliant body. To have you writhing and bending at his will on his sheets and putting every orgasm you’ve ever had to shame.

If anyone needed to snap out of it, it was San. His fingers twitched as he forced himself to stay still. He found it so cute, the way you refused to look at him too long, or you’d get overwhelmed, thighs shifting in your seat, and your hands playing with the string on your shorts.

This went on for what felt like forever, San continuing to tease you when you looked at him, whether that be him playing with his big hands, measuring his fingers with his eyes locked on yours. Or playing with his belt buckle, the metal clink was quiet against the ambience of the forest, but loud in your ears. Just when you decided you had had enough and wanted to go to bed, San suddenly stood, clapping his hands.

“Well, ladies, I will leave you to it. I’ve got shit to get done tomorrow so I will be heading to bed.” Arin immediately began to boo and mime tomato throwing at her dad.

“Old man!” She whispered, shouted. “Don't forget your Tuesday pills, Gramps.” San rolled his eyes and waved her off. “I’m sure you’ll understand one day, you young folk have got all that energy in ya. My battery runs out faster than yours.” Arin rolled her eyes in response, leaning over to whisper to you.

“Guy can’t even stay up past 9 pm, I'm worried (Name), he's already got half a foot in the grave.” You both burst into a fit of giggles, San hearing what his daughter had said.

“Now you know I am not that old. Plus, even if I'm a little up in years, I still got it.” Without missing a beat, he moved into an obnoxious pose, flexing his arms and tipping the cap on his head. “Ladies.” He flamboyantly chirped, smiling handsomely,

“Ugh, oh my god, Dad, whatever.” They laughed, the light atmosphere easing the tension around the fire.

“Alright, keep me up any longer and I'll nod off standing. I love you, honey.” he came over and planted a kiss on his daughter's head. Arin smiled and lovingly tapped his ankle with her foot. “Love you too, Dad, it's good to be home.” He began to walk away. 

 Arin did the unthinkable.

“Ahem, Dad… what about (Name)? Hmm? Not gonna tell her goodnight? Rude.” Your eyes widened as all attention was on you. The tension returned as your eyes locked with San’s again. His eyebrows raised in surprise at his daughter's remark, but quickly shifted into a lazy smile.

“Of course, how rude of me. So much for southern hospitality.” San walked over and reached his hand down, squeezed your shoulder, and placed a chaste kiss directly on your forehead. “Goodnight, peaches.” He stood, waved, and walked into the darkness back to the house.

He was totally doing this on purpose. Teasing you in front of Arin. It was like he enjoyed seeing you embarrassed. Your best friend never made a note or commented on his behavior, seemingly accustomed to it, as if this was just how he was. Really friendly.

You sat huddled next to Arin, enjoying the sounds of crickets and owls from deep within the wood, the wind blew the orange flames of fire every which way like a frantic dance. It wasn’t until late into the night that you both decided to retreat to bed. You both stood, Arin extinguished the fire, and you both began walking back to the house.

Walking in the front door, you shut and locked it behind you, discarding your shoes on the front porch. The front entrance was barely illuminated, just a candle mounted on the wall in the kitchen, the light spilling from around the corner into the foyer. It was silent, just the wind from outside muffled and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Arin walked down the hall, turning and making her way to the bedrooms. You followed close behind, almost unnerved by the unnatural stillness of the home.

Arin walked into the bedroom you two were sharing, turning on the lamp on the nightstand by the bed. You both began your respective night routines. Skincare, pajamas, medications.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Arin wrap her hair in a silk wrap.

1 day down. 5 more to go. You almost asked Arin if she could take you back to the city so you could call an Uber home. You would say you were sick or that your mother slipped and fell back home. When really you just knew you would feel like the worst person on the planet if you lost your moral compass and fucked her dad.

When she finished, you stood and closed up the drawers and picked up anything off the floor. A far-off rumble of thunder groaned from outside, the wind picking up and swaying the tree leaves in a graceful dance. 

You glanced over at the nightstand, an alarm clock sat next to the lamp.

11:23.

Arin sat at the top of the bed, shimmying under the covers while you lay on the other side, closest to the nightstand. You looked over at her, genuinely happy that she had thought of you when she was planning her vacation home, but you sincerely wished she hadn’t.

Or did you?

Too much thinking for so late into the night.

You turned to look at her, a nearly apologetic look in your eyes. “Thank you again for taking me with you, Arin. It's so refreshing to get away from the city. My lungs feel cleaner already.” Arin smiled and lay down under the comforter with her phone on her chest. 

“Who else would I take silly. Thank you for being so cool around my dad. I know he can be a little much.” She smiled embarrassedly, shrugging her shoulders. Oh, she had no idea. You reassured her with a gentle punch to her stomach.

“He’s not any worse than you are.” Arin’s mouth fell in mock surprise at your teasing.

“You just wait until I’m awake enough to care.” She narrowed her eyes at you, turning around with a giggle to settle into the bed.  You turned your upper body to switch the lamp off, shrouding the bedroom in darkness.

“Goodnight, Arin.” You rubbed her shoulder lovingly, returning the gesture by squeezing your hand. “Night, Name.” The wind howled louder outside the cabin, another crackle of thunder boomed in the night, the sky opened, and the rain began to fall, fat droplets hitting the roof like a soothing white noise. 

The alarm clock glowed an eerie, aggressive red on the nightstand.

2:13.

Arin slept soundly beside you, a loud crack of lightning that cast a bright white light about the room. Shadows splayed on the wall, and the house shook slightly. Your throat was so dry if you tried to take a breath, you would for sure choke. You needed something to drink.

Standing from the bed quietly, careful not to wake her up, you draped the comforter back over her and smoothed over your spot.

In nothing but a black tank top and athletic shorts, you stood by the entrance to your room, peering down the dark, looming hallway that led to the kitchen. The lone light in the kitchen cast shadows surrounded by warm, glowing light. The sound of the AC buzzing faintly in the background as the rain beat against the roof and windows. Silently shutting the door behind you, you made your way down the hall with one mission. A glass of water and a breather.

You walked to the kitchen sink, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and pouring yourself a glass. You tipped your head back and chugged the glass, the cold water soothing your headache and chilling your insides. With a deep sigh, you set the glass on the counter. You rubbed your eyes, sleep overtaking you again as a yawn bubbled up.

You looked out the window that was placed above the sink. The outside world was dark, the rain pattering against the glass, and the droplets racing down the pane. The wind blew branches from trees around the perimeter of the house, causing them to beat against the walls and windows. A cacophony of different sounds that melded together to harmonize into a sleep-lulling white noise.  

“Hey, peaches…” Soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear as the smell of pine and vanilla engulfed your senses, an arm wrapped around your waist while the other gripped the sink, caging you against the counter. A broad chest pressed against the back of your head as the hand around your waist pressed its fingertips into your lower abdomen. 

San kept his voice quiet, like you were in a bubble, and the slightest noise too loud could burst it. “What’re you doin’ up so late, babydoll? Can’t sleep?” he whispered it teasingly, like he was making fun of you in your ear.

You craned your neck back to shoot him a glare. His eyebrows raised at your expression, before he relaxed at the promise that you’re about to give him a challenge. You looked back at the window in front of the sink. “I’m sick of all your teasing, Mr. Choi. I can’t tell-” the arm gripping the sink came forward and curled before pressing against and around your throat, gentle enough not to restrict airflow or hurt you, but just enough to warn you that he could if he wanted to

The hand holding your waist traced little circles on your abdomen, pressing down every now and then before slowly grazing down further until it played with the strings on your shorts. Twirling them around his thick, rough fingers.

Your head spun at his sudden decision to put you in a headlock, your eyes whipped down, and all you could see was the bulky muscle of his forearm curled around your throat so possessively, you almost let your knees buckle underneath you. His lips oh so gently nipped at the lobe of your ear, kissing down your neck and back up again.

“Aww, baby’s tired of the teasing?” His hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts, dancing over the hem of your underwear. “Want me to just ruin you already, huh? Is that what you want, sweetpea?” His fingers slipped past the waistband of your underwear, tugging away from your skin before letting it snap back against your flesh with a quiet pop. 

You nod quicker than you would have liked to, your body answering before your brain could rationalize your thinking. He laughed under his breath at your eagerness, then used the hand from the arm around your neck to grip your hair in his fist. He held it, guiding your neck to angle downward so your lips were pressed against his bicep.

“Bite down for me, baby.” You hesitated for a moment before opening your mouth, closing your teeth around a spot on the muscle, instinctively running your tongue along the spot to soothe it. San winced, barely, before dipping his fingers past the waistband of your underwear and cupping his hand around your pussy.

“Gotta keep you quiet, sweetheart. Don’t need your pretty little noises being heard. Be good for me and keep it down, and I’ll make you feel so good.” 

You furrowed your brows and focused on the feeling of his finger dragging up between your folds, stopping to massage your clit in slow, sensual circles. Your jaw tightened its grip on his arm, the muscle flexing in response to the stimulation. 

San dragged his finger back down, slipping his middle and ring finger inside of you, your thighs squeezing around his wrist in response as his arm slightly tightened around your neck. You moaned into his arm, your own hands coming up and gripping the arm snaked in your shorts and subtly but not so subtly ground your clit against his wrist as he fucked his fingers into you, working you open and trying to perfectly hit that breathtaking spot inside you.

Deep in your cunt his fingers curled just perfectly, grazing your g-spot and causing a full body shiver to travel through you as your clit bumped the palm of his hand simultaneously. 

San pressed his open mouth against your cheek, mocking your heavy breathing and whining teasingly with his own voice, smiling when you clenched around his fingers. His eyebrows knitted to copy your pleasure ridden face. God if he only had a mirror in front of you both right now.

“Nasty, nasty girl.” He clicked his tongue, pressing the pads of his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you, rubbing in pressurized circles. Your voice began to slip, the feeling too intense, toes curling as you drooled all over his bicep.

“San… oh my god, so good…” your head lolled back, no longer bothering to silence yourself as the rain outside grew so heavy it felt like the house was encased in TV static. 

San groaned, moving his arm around your throat and gripping your neck with his hand. He angled your head up and leaned his head down. Tracing his lips against yours as he continued to work further to your orgasm with his fingers, his lips slotted with yours desperately. You let yourself whimper and cry into his mouth, his tongue sliding down your throat and drinking your sounds up happily. He nibbled on your bottom lip, grinding his palm against your clit and massaging your spot harder.

“That's it. Don’t worry about anything else. Focus on that feeling. Focus on me.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your throat soothingly. A fire flickered in his eyes when he looked into yours and watched the way you practically melted at the look he gave you. And that was all he needed before he whipped you around to face him, slipping his fingers out of you.

He ripped your shorts and underwear down and off your legs, tossing them somewhere into the darkness of the kitchen. His arms hooked under your thighs and lifted you up… up.. Until your legs were on his shoulder. He had you high up on the wall, back pressed against the cold wall. His big hands sank into your plush thighs as he held them on his shoulders, his face snug between your legs. He was standing… holding you on his shoulders like you weighed nothing.

You went rigid for a moment, for being so high up, and San between your thighs. It all happened so quickly.

His hot breath was clouding your cunt, the warm feeling causing your thighs to shiver and your eyes to roll in anticipation. His hands squeezed your thighs tightly in warning, his eyes meeting yours for a second.

“Quiet. I just need to taste you, just once… one time.” He buried his face in your soaked cunt, his nose bumping against your clit and his tongue sucking like a fucking man starved. Like he was drinking you.

Your whimpered crackled from your chest in no time, your hands flying to his hair to get a grip so you wouldn't fall off his goddamn shoulders. “Sannie.. Nghmm… can’t stay hah.. Quiet..” The noises were obscene.

The slurping and the wet open-mouth kisses. He would close his plush lips around your clit and suck like his life depended on it, which nearly pushed you over the edge in seconds. You were dripping down his chin, drops of your slick, and his saliva fell onto his tank top. Just filthy.

He ground deep into your cunt, shaking his head side to side feeling your body jolt every time his nose grazed your clit. “Gonna come for me, peaches?” he whined into you. “c’mon, you can do it. Give it to me, I need it… please. Please, baby, please.” Your fingers tightened their grip on his hair as you started to feel yourself falling apart, a breathless and silent “cumming” being mouthed by your wet lips.

“Yes. Yes,” he moaned into you like a mantra, coaxing you through your orgasm and helping you come down. San quickly let your body drop so that now your legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried you hurriedly through the living room, down the hall, and into his room, right across from Arin’s. His room was dark, the only light coming from his window when the sky lit up with lightning. 

He laid you on the edge of his bed, ripping off his tank top and lifting your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulder. The view was gut-wrenching. His tall, rippling body. He looked so smooth, the ridges in his abs and his pecs so perfectly shadowed, it was like he was painted. His arms held your leg open on and his shoulder as he craned his neck to the side and looked you over like he wanted to snap you in half.

His legs hidden below the bed, but the sight of his hot, thick cock laying on your stomach nearly had you reeling. The pink tip twitched against your belly button as San did everything in his power not to start humping himself against your tummy.

One hand traced up your stomach lightly, around the peaks of your nipples, up your neck, and up against your lips. 

“Open.” San commanded, tapping his fingers against your cheek. You complied, feeling as he slipped his fingers in your mouth onto your tongue, pressing down.

 He leans forward, his chest grazing yours as he rests his forehead against yours. He guided his hips backward and angled the tip of his cock against your slick cunt.

“Shhh,” he whispered against your skin, pressing wet kisses on your ear. With the patience that San didn't wholeheartedly believe he had, he pushed himself inside of you. He pulled back to get a better look at him sliding in, but he paused, transfixed,

He stared at where you two connected, your cunt hugging him for dear life. He twitched inside of you before inching in more, opening his mouth to let out a low, perverted groan.

“She's takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Swallowing me up is so good…” His fingers curled down into your mouth when he bottomed out inside of you. His tip is sitting heavy right against your spot. Your eyes rolled, and you could clench at the feeling of him twitching in you.

San winced and brought a hand to grip your right hip, his thumb spreading over your stomach to your belly button and kneading your tummy gently while he held your hips down against the bed, He bit his bottom lip, eyes flicking up to yours in desperation before moving back down and locking his gaze back on your pretty pussy,

“Fuck, dont move babydoll. I’ll cum…. Just.. mmmf… be still. Let me…” he stayed still for a second, before pulling his hips back and moaning out loud and the slick sound your pussy made. He slid back until his tip was the only thing inside of you, before rolling his hips and burying himself back in you deeeeepp.

Your whole body twitched and your hands came up to grip the wrist of his hand that was currently fucking your mouth with his fingers. Every roll of his hips had your whole body shuddering in pleasure, and still his eyes stayed glued at your cunt. He was mesmerized by the movement, watching his own abs roll as your stomach slightly bulged every time he pushed back inside. In and out, in and out…

San forced himself to rip his eyes away from where he pistoned inside of you. He lolled his head back and squeezed your waist even tighter, slipping his fingers out of your mouth and placing his hand on the other hip. He dragged your body up and down on his dick dropping his head back to stare at your body so pliant and willing for him.

The hands on your hips gripped you with iron strength, as San used your body as a fleshlight, fucking your cunt down on his cock, You took the sight before you in, San completely fucked out, pussydrunk.

His skin glistened from the heat of your bodies, stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead and covered his eyes, and the tip of his tongue poked past his lips as he focused completely on getting you where you needed to be. His abdomen rolled into yours so smoothly it's like he was dancing, his whole body shoving itself deeper into you, closer to your body.

He pushed your legs down so that your knees were bent and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. His cock sank impossibly deeper inside of you, pulling a deep guttural groan from you.

Quickly, San pressed his lips back on yours, swallowing your cries with his mouth and licking soothing patterns into your mouth. He was so deep in your guts it felt like he was touching your ribcage, the way his body covered yours underneath him, his hands holding your legs up.

“Hush, baby, you’re being so loud. Be a good girl for me and hold it in, please, mkay? You can do it. Take it deeper, you can do it, I know you can.” He pistoned his cock into you, his head roughly kissing that spot deep in your tummy that had your back arching and your breathing staggering.

The living room was hot, and San’s body engulfed yours like you were all his. He rested his forehead against yours and his eyes roved down your body arriving back down to where his cock slipped in and out of you so smoothly. So deep and so determined. His eyes remained glued to the sight once again. His head swam with all the nasty things he wanted to tell you. To do to you.

Obsessed was an understatement, he adored watching himself slip in and out of you, the way you sucked him in so eagerly, the way your cunt dripped for him, a thin creamy ring around the base of his cock.

He locked eyes with you again, his hand squeezing around your throat, the spots of your peripheral vision slightly blinking out as his other hand came down and slowly rubbed slow circles on your clit.

San bit his bottom lip, watching as your face contorted into a cock drunk expression, not even caring to keep yourself quiet as he continued rubbing deliberate circles on your sensitive clit.

His hand cupped around your mouth and pressed down, his eyes boring into yours in a silent warning.

“What happened, baby? You were doing so well keeping it down.” He pouted mockingly at your pathetic attempts at silencing your moans. “Can’t take it after all, peaches?” A particularly targeted thrust knocked the wind from your lungs for a second, nearly pushing you into your orgasm.

His mouth lowered to your throat, kissing up your neck before landing by your ear.

“Can I cum inside you pretty baby please? Please?” He groaned, biting the shell of your ear lightly, continuing to fuck you into his mattress like he needed you to breathe.

He moved his hand away from your mouth, allowing you to answer.

“Im- ngh ah! On the p-pill. Oh, San, yes, yes, please inside, please!” Before you got too loud, San pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans in lingering, deep kisses. Slow and sloppy, his eyes rolled back as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Yes, c’mon..” He sighed into your mouth, slowing his hips and aiming directly for that stomach-wrenching spot inside of you, deliberately rolling his hips to repeatedly and heavily press against it. So quick it was unbelievable, your orgasm crept up your spine and curled around your stomach.

“Right there, right there, right there…” You prayed into his mouth, eyebrows knitted in concentration. San laughed, sucking on your bottom lip as he moved the hand on your clit up to press his entire palm on your lower stomach.

“Right here?” He tilted his head as his eyes remained glued to your face, watching every single little change in your expressions, enamored, with a sinister smile on his flushed face. He pushed down, the pressure becoming too much as your body spasms for a split second, before the orgasm crashed into you.

San kissed you even deeper, trying his hardest to muffle the sounds that spilled from your pretty, swollen lips, his groans falling down your throat and nearly drowning out your own. His whole body twitched, and he finally let go, his hands gripping you so tight as he came so deep in your guts you felt him in your chest.

“Taking it all so well.” He pulled from your lips, his hips rolling gently to work you through your high. When your legs finally stopped shaking, he slipped out of you with slick, vile slowness, his eyes stayed glued as he watched his cock slip out of you, moaning quietly to himself when his tip popped out and his cum began seeping out of your cunt.

His eyes flicked up to you, splayed in his sheets, hair messy, drooling, chest heaving with exertion. So pretty for him. He crawled up the bed, coaxing you to lift your head on the pillow. He chuckled at your fucked out state. “When you can find your feet again, Bambi, we can go take a shower. I’m sure this old man did a number on you.”

You glared at him, his expression nothing short of goofy, pulling a smile from you. “Stupid.” You mumbled. San smiled back, hands reached forward and gripped the sides of your face, pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. He pulled back with a wet pop.

“Smile all pretty like that and ‘m just gonna have to fuck you again, sweetpea.”

Your heart stuttered before it dropped, suddenly remembering the predicament you were actually in. 1 day down. 5 more to go. Just how fucked were you.

[vaquerolvr]

Road trip! Reader is Passenger Princess (due to them giving their man a heart attack everytime they drive 😊)

i am Still Suffering on my road trip. god save me. i wrote this in my notes app while stuck in traffic for three hours. the formatting and spelling are in the hands of Our Merciful Lord (tumblr)

price

refuses to let anyone else drive unless he’s on the verge of passing out

(probably the only one you can trust to drive tbh)

does the dad thing where he’ll stick out his hand to get some of your snacks

hates stopping for any reason, wants to get to the destination as quickly as possible

when he does get forced to take a break, he’s very upset about it

backseat driver, stresses everyone out

(gaz is tempted to tape his mouth shut)

claims he “isn’t tired” and “can keep going” but is the first one to pass out when you stop at a hotel

gaz

passenger princess

if you try to get him to drive he’ll pretend to be sleepy

in charge of the music

(not because everyone likes his music but because he fought soap for the right)

hogs the phone charger

calls shotgun and will fistfight anyone he tries to take it from him

(he’ll let you have it if you want but he’ll be pouty about it)

ghost

another passenger princess (because no one trusts his driving)

the single time he’s allowed to drive, he nearly causes an accident ten minutes in

weakest bladder known to man

forces you to stop every hour

passes out after the first hour of driving

soap wakes him up when his snoring gets too loud and it causes another bout of smacking each other

takes photos of anything cool he spots on the road

(they all come out blurry but it’s the thought that counts)

soap

the only other one that price trusts to drive

decent driver, just has road rage at times

begs gaz to let him change the music (gaz always says no)

points out the scenery constantly

“look, there’s cows!”

collects souvenirs from every gas station you stop at

plays road trip games (i spy, slug bug/punch buggy/whatever you call it)

he and ghost get in trouble when it devolves into them just hitting each other

has a stash of snacks and drinks that he’ll share if you ask nicely

is awake and yapping the entire drive

(gaz actually does tape his mouth shut)

alejandro

the exact opposite of price

likes to take his time and relax

will somehow turn a 10 hour drive into 15 hours

wants to stop at every roadside attraction he sees

you have to keep reminding him that you have somewhere to be or he’ll get lost on a side quest

souvenir guy, buys magnets and keychains

has cds that he likes to listen to

very chill but you might get stressed if you’re on a deadline

is insistent on being the driver but gets traumatized when he runs over a squirrel

“ale, it wasn’t your fault. it was dark, you couldn’t see-“

“I’M A MURDERER”

rudy

probably the best person to plan a road trip with

isn’t a maniac like price but isn’t as laidback as alejandro

likes to listen to random radio stations as he drives

is really bad about speeding

regularly goes at least 15-20 over the speed limit but is lucky enough to never get pulled over

uses road trips as an excuse to only eat junk food then regrets it when his stomach starts hurting

needs a day or two to recover afterwards because his back hurts from sitting for so long

graves

scarily organized

has an itinerary and follows it to the letter

wouldn’t let you drive even if you begged

if he gets tired he’ll just get one of the shadows to take over

honestly, most of the trip consists of the shadows entertaining you with their antics while graves drives

one of them gets left behind at a gas station and you have to drive back half an hour to pick him up. graves is pissed

makarov

do NOT try to take this man on a road trip

if you mention it, he’ll have plane tickets booked before you can even blink

cannot handle long drives, the most he can manage is an hour before he starts getting annoyed

keegan

the most stressful but also the most entertaining

demands control of the music but plays the weirdest shit

not the best driver but not the worst

he won’t crash at least and he’ll only get pulled over a few times

says the most out of pocket shit to get a reaction from you

“how long do you think i can drive with my eyes closed?”

“KEEGAN NO-“

keegan has been banished to the passenger’s seat.

nikolai

another guy who is good at road trips

great driver, you can sleep the whole ride and he won’t gaf

it’s kind of terrifying. you’ll wake up from another nap to find him staring dead-eyed at the road as he drives

secretly shoplifts something from every place you stop at

doesn’t admit it until you accidentally find his stash hidden in one of the bags

“solnishko, you must understand. i need it.”

“you do not need a keychain of a frog with a cowboy hat, nik!”

nikolai is now wanted for theft in every US state (and several countries)

[seaslugfanclub]

Kool-aid Isn’t the Only Thing I’m Thirsty For

Happy 4th of July everyone!

————————————————————————

“Y’know my great grandfather was stationed in France?”

“No shit? My nephew was deployed there.”

“Yeah— Cant remember for the life of me what division he was in, but he was sent back to the states after he blew off most of his fingers.”

“Yeesh.. Makes me mighty glad I missed out on all o’ that! hey- make sure to keep flippin’! These need to be grilled correctly.”

“Don’t tell a man how to use his own grill…”

Sykes, Rourke, and Alameda hovered over the grill, Sykes in charge of the burgers as he shot the shit with the old commander and cow wrangler, a half-smoked cigar hanging from each of their mouths and a chilled beer bottle in hand.

It had been a while since Sykes had celebrated the 4th, but he had subtly dominated the command of the grill. And Rourke was more than happy to piss away time, puffing on his cigar as he talked about old war battles with the two other men.

The sun beat down on the men, who had stationed themselves in the old lot behind the main studio building, both Rourke and Sykes had exchanged their usually stiff outfits for their old wife-beaters. While Alameda wore a simple plaid button up. An old radio played classic yacht rock, sitting atop a splintering picnic table. And a cooler filled with drinks was placed beside the grill, a few spare wasps hovering around the yellowed plastic of the cooler.

“(Y/N)!!!” Sykes hollered, Rourke and Alameda flinching at the noise,

“How're you doing with the Kool-aid!?”

(Y/n) opened the door to the backyard, calling back, “Almost done!!!”

Closing the door, (Y/n) turned towards Medusa, who was finishing mixing the disgustingly sweet drink, limp cigarette between her lips

“Hey, don’t get any cigarette ash in it!” They whined.

“Oh please, I won't! At least the ash would cut back the sugar.” Medusa muttered, sweeping back her dangling American flag earrings.

(Y/n) nodded, pulling on the hem of their denim shorts that stuck to their sweaty skin. “Cool, Imma bring out the ketchup and shit, Facilier, do you wanna join us?”

Facilier, who was draped on the counter across from Medusa, top hat off and slightly fanning himself shrugged,

“Eh, I’m not too big on burgers Chére. And I’m pretty sure drinking even a small glass of that red monstrosity will put me in an early grave.”

“You sure? I brought some illegal fireworks that we’ll be setting off later? You could do the honors of lighting them?”

Facilier paused his fanning, “…Illegal you say? What kind?”

“Oh I’ve got; Snakes, sparklers, firecrackers, M80, black cats, Roman candles, screamin’ Mimi’s, ladyfingers, fuzz buttles, snicker bombs, church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, crap flappers, whistling bungholes, spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker do’s, hoosker don’ts, cherry bombs, nipsa daisers with scooter stick, and whistling kitty chasers.” (Y/n) listed off with their fingers.

…

“….Well, I could never pass up a good ol’ Roman candle… sure. Just let me know when you bring ‘em out.”

(Y/n) laughed, nodding excitedly as they carried out all the condiments, paper plates, and napkins to the backyard, Medusa bustling beside them with the large pitcher of iced Kool-aid.

“I haven’t had a proper July 4th cookout since I was a girl! I still remember my ol’ mother and father screaming over the undercooked hot dogs… Oh, back when this country had proper domestic violence~” Medusa cooed, a nostalgic smile making her eyes squint.

The park attendant gave Medusa the side eye, brows furrowed before shaking their head, (Y/n)’s attention quickly turned towards the large men outside.

They tried not to blatantly stare at how tight Sykes beater was stretched around his chest, or how all of the men’s chest and arm hair were slicked with sweat, OR how an old anchor tattoo made itself known on Rourkes back whenever he flexed, OR OR how good Alameda looked taking a long puff his cigar.

…

“…Meat's back on the menu tonight…” (Y/n) thought to themselves, hoping that the heat could excuse their flushed face.

To break out of there thoughts, (Y/n) shouted to the group,

“Alright! Who’s ready to party!?”

———————————————————————

“What in god's name are they doing?” Hook muttered, watching through the window in morbid fascination as (Y/n) fanatically cheered on Facilier, who had begun to laugh maniacally as he shot off three Roman candles at once.

“Oh it’s that silly American holiday, today. The one where they dress up is garish clothing and raise their cholesterol.” Cruella hisses, already feeling a headache coming on. “I tell you those Americans eat like they have free healthcare..”

“Ugh, a wretched holiday for a wretched country, the traitors..” Governor Ratcliffe sneered.

“Oh, now look at that—” Hook pointed out,

From the backyard, Rourke hands (Y/n) what seems to be a small, multicolored bazooka, a wicked grin on his face as he helps them light the rocket's fuse.

Rourke ruffled their hair, stepping back a few paces to join Sykes and Slim’s side, watching proudly as (Y/n) braces and aimed the rocket towards the sky, shooting a fiery ball high up into the night air, which promptly exploded into a burning flower of sparkles. The firework joking one of many across the dark sky.

“USA! USA! USA! USA!”

…

“…I bet 30 dollars one of them is losing a finger tonight.” Clayton speaks up amongst the crowd of villains watching from inside.

“Aye, make that 50.”

————————————————————————

Just wanted to write a little blurb celebrating the 4th of July! I realized just how little American villains the Disney cannon has, and I wanted an excuse to thirst over Rourke and Sykes in old wife- beaters grilling me a burger🤤.

(ALSO DISCLAIMER!! This was merely written for fun. I love America and I love the beautiful nature it has, but I don’t love the American government.

This was not written with any political intention, only thirst for old men and Kool—aid.)

[shrikeseams]

Tag Game: People I'd Like to Get to Know Better!

Thanks for the tag @curufiin, and also I think @twofoursixohjuan has tagged me on this same kind of thing semi-recently and I never got to it.

Last Song: whatever was on the radio last at the nonprofit before I left tonight. But the last thing I listened to was the audiobook of The King's General by Daphne du Maurier.

Favorite Color: Curufiin has excellent taste, but I just expact to nearly any shade of green. Bonus points if it goes all golden when sunlight hits it.

Last Book: The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister (that I read with my eyeballs not my ears, but this was like. last week or so.)

Last movie: Laapataa Ladies

Last TV Show: ...great question. Um. Does youtube count? If not it was Shogun, and if yes then I think it was a cow hoof trimming video.

Sweet/savory/spicy: I have a profound sweet tooth, but I enjoy all three.

Relationship status: cheerful aroace spinster

Last thing I googled: "indian romcom switched brides" because I couldn't remember the name of the movie. Before that... probably something to do with the grant I'm working on, idk.

Looking forward to: I have some very fun nearly-finished sewing projects, and I strongly suspect a friend may be actively giving birth at the moment (the whole discord server is waiting to hear from her), and another friend is planning her bachelorette party and I might get to whisk her off for a chill mountain getaway after. <3 <3 <3

Current obsession: I'm between fascinations which is a bitch of a state to be in. But I might be getting my sewjo back, and I have some fun and silly painting projects underway.

I'm tagging: @theblacknessdyer, @twofoursixohjuan (if you haven't done one lately), @of-sevenseas, @feanorianethicsdepartment, @vvitchking

[daveenglandsball]

being the passenger princess in the jackass boys cars! (no TW's!)

-------------------------------------

-- JOHNNY KNOXVILLE --

• keeps the oldies station on quietly in the background

• rests his arm halfway out the window while driving

• occasionally smokes like that too, his hand casually hanging out of the window

• his car is clean and tidy

• probably drives a nice vintage car

• the passenger side is dedicated to you and you only

• you keep your sunglasses, books, makeup etc in the glove compartment

• "y/n! look at all those COWS!"

• will always take the scenic route

• keeps his hand on your thigh the WHOLE drive

-- BAM MARGERA --

• the experience really depends on which car your in

• if your in the hummer, theres a 9/10 chance his friends are sprawled out throughout the car

• the hummer makes for a more chaotic drive

• however if your in the lambo, its definitely more peaceful

• the lambo is where you and bam have chill late night drives

• CD's all over the place

• HIM is blasting in that damn car 24/7

• a mess of polaroid pictures of you, him, and his friends attached to his sun visor

• a broken skateboard in the trunk

• he's a mess to drive with if theres any traffic

• like the road rage will definitely end up with him rolling down the window to yell at someone

• and if theres bad traffic there is a 50/50 chance he will end up kicking the car of the person who pissed him off

-- RYAN DUNN --

• listens to red hot chilli peppers and def leppard during car rides

• has all his cd's in one of those organizers

• his car lowkey smells funny. no matter how many air fresheners you buy for it, the smell always lingers

• i mean, we love ry, but we all know he's not the best with keeping everything clean and hygenic

• you make him go through the car wash every few weeks cus he'll 100% forget if you don't remind him

• chip wrappers scattered around his car

• its okay though because you know how much he tries to tidy up when he knows you'll be in the car with him

• will tell you stories about his day during long rides

• "and then, like, i ended up gettin' rolled off this building in a shopping cart. anyways... what did you do today?"

-- STEVE-O --

• his radio is bashed in from drunkenly kicking it too hard one night

• keeps forgetting to get it fixed

• because of this, when he gets bored he'll sing songs

• when he wants to annoy you he'll sing REALLY loud

• he WILL turn into sleep-o during long car rides, so you'll have to take over the wheel

• always wants to pull over to the gas station to get snacks

• accidentally makes a mess whenever he eats while driving

• his car is barely functioning atp

• he has definitely pissed somewhere in the car

• on short car rides you'll rest your legs on him while he drives

• when he chills out you guys have really good and deep talks

-- CHRIS PONTIUS --

• lets you take over the aux

• car rides are therapeutic for him

• (except if he's in the same car as the rest of the jackass guys, cus we've seen how that plays out)

• he drives his van

• because of this, on long car rides he'll pull over and pop out the trunk so you guys can sit and rest for a bit

• when you guys sit back there he'll take out his guitar and play songs for you

• no matter how cold you get, he will keep the windows down. he loves the feeling of the breeze hitting him while he drives

• if he's really feeling it he'll stick his head out the window like a dog

• on road trips you fall asleep in the backseat (if there aren't a billion magazines, random costume pieces, or cd's scattered over the seats)

-----------------------------------------------------

(apologies for not adding in ehren, dave, preston, or wee man! let me know if you want a part 2 with them in it!)

( i could also do one with dico, raab, and rake... lmk!)

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters: Would They Be Fun To Take A Road Trip With?

[Main spoiler is for Way of Kings! Oddly enough. Some spoilers for Stormlight as a whole.]

You're planning a road trip, and you want to bring a Cosmere character with you! You know, as one does. But would the following Cosmere characters actually be a good road trip buddy?

1. Dalinar: Yes

Dalinar's whole dang philosophy is that it's the journey that matters. He'd be stopping at interesting roadside attractions, enjoying good food, watching sunsets, and generally enjoying the trip. What a great person to have on your road trip with you!

2. Adolin: Yes

We saw road-trip-Adolin in Shadesmar--he's great! Organized, interested in making sure everyone is doing well, good conversationalist. You'll have a great time.

3. Kaladin: Depends

To be fair it was a stressful situation, but when Kaladin and Shallan "road tripped" through the chasms, he basically just marched off with his long Alethi legs and left her to scramble along behind him. I feel like that's equivalent to, like, being really particular about the radio or something. Plus, he totally thinks he knows the way and ain't asking for directions. On the other hand, if Kaladin has warmed up to you, then I think he'd be an okay travel buddy. He'll definitely pull you out of the flaming wreckage when the trip inevitably turns into some sort of dramatic life-or-death situation, at least!

4. Vasher: No

You're like, "Oh look! That town has the country's largest cow statue! Wanna stop and take a look?" and he's like, "No." It's the first time he's spoken in 45 minutes.

5. Tress: Yes

By the of her book, Tress is all about adventure and she's a literal delight to everyone on the ship. Plus, if your tire got flat or something, Tress would absolutely learn how to change a tire on the fly and get you back on the road.

6. Teft: No

Teft will fight to his dying breath to protect you, but I do not think he'd be fun to sit in the car with for eight hours a day. He'd be a grumbler, I think.

7. Kabsal: Yes

He'd bring amazing car snacks, potentially homemade ones. He seemed like a good conversationalist too. Now it's true, he might try to assassinate you or inconveniently fall in love with you--or both!--but, like, the rest of the road trip will be lots of fun.

8. Navani: Depends on the type of road trip

Navani would, I think, make for a very organized road trip buddy. If you're trying to get somewhere on a time table, Navani would be great. You WILL be up at 8:00am and you WILL get to your destination on time and in one piece. But if you're hoping to, like, chill out and enjoy the scenery casually, then maybe not so much.

9. Elend: No

Elend is great 'n' all, but has a plan of his ever worked out in his life? There's gonna be a huge traffic jam caused by, like, political sabotage or something. And all of his books on tape are about philosophy, too.

10. Mare: Yes

She's definitely a "cow! cow!" type person, I think.

11. Eshonai: Hell yeah

Eshonai loves to travel and is delighted to meet new people. She's going to get chatting with some fruit vendor and the next thing you know, you've both been invited to dinner and are about to have the absolute best homecooked meal of your life.

12. Raoden: Yes

I feel like Raoden is very likable and cares a lot about how the people around him are doing. He'd make sure you had a good time and would be very thoughtful.

13. Lirin: Depends on whether Hesina is coming too

I feel like on his own, Lirin would be a very...stressed road trip buddy. Concerned about the speed limit, about not being too unhealthy, about doing the road trip right. But if Hesina were there, I think he'd be able to chill out a lot more. Because Hesina would want the trip to be fun, and I think Lirin would let it be fun with her around.

14. Lezian: Hell no

The FIRST person who cuts him off in traffic is gonna spark so much road rage in Lezian. Now you're weaving erratically through traffic in pursuit of that truck he's mad at, and you're only like 30 minutes into the trip.

15. Raboniel: Well...

At first she was like, "I am the driver here. You will address me only as the Lady of Roads and will know your place" and you were like, "Wow. This is going to be the worst trip of my life." But by the end, the two of you are singing together and crying for some reason, and now you think she might be your soulmate.

So...50/50?

[invisiblequeen]

For @cawthorntales 's BC: May I introduce...Stormi Henry?

Age: Young Adult

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Heterosexual

Hometown: Henford-On-Bagley

Current Town: Chestnut Ranch

Occupation: Equestrian (but she perfers the term Cowgirl)

Aspiration: Championship Rider

Traits: Flirty, Horse-Lover, Self-Absorbed

Likes: White, Brown, Fitness, Horse-Riding, Dancing, Outdoorsy Fashion, Country Fashion, Discussing Hobbies, Flirtation, Batuu Music, Blues Music, Hardworking Sims, Pet Enthusiasts

Dislikes: Purple, Green, Cross-Stitch, Video Gaming, Rocker Fashion, Polished Fashion, Wine-Making, Gossip, Complaints, Ranch Music, Lullabies Radio, Homebody Sims, Ambitionless Sims

Hendford-On-Bagley has its horses, for sure. But they're usually chilling in the farm with the cows and the chickens. Stormi Henry grew up with livestock, crops, two hard working parents and a ranch-hand little brother. But all she really cared about were those horses. The ponies were hers to ride (with supervision), but only within the confines of the farm. Which was fine for a while, until she got old enough to look beyond the fences.

Once she aged up to young adulthood, Stormi kissed her family all on their foreheads and took a train to Chestnut Ranch. With the money she was kindly loaned by the SimBank, she bought a fixer upper of a lot with the intentions of turning it into a Cowgirl's dream. With hard work and perseverance, she did just that.

Five years later, a 29 year old Stormi Henry is one of the most popular cowgirls in the county. All her horses are well-brushed, powerful, bit-free and loved. All her boots are scuffed at the soles and stained with dust. All her debt to the bank is--almost--paid off. And all the cowboys are in her Social Bunny DM's.

But she wants IAN. And she's gonna get him, with a lasso and a smile.

WHAT DO WE THINK?

[allykatsart]

More Hazbin OCs!

These ones are from awhile ago, so my apologies on the lateness. I just barely found where I put this lol

First up we have the rival radio host ViVi! From @beazzlebug ! I loved their hair shapes so much I just had to!!!!! Fuck yeah!

Next in line is the amazing Dr. Slaughter from @im-gonna-explode! I love me a scientist and this one was particularly fun! I want to steal his lab coat.

Then we have Vieve! By @sirenasspace ! I love the half eye look and the pigtails! Can't remember what the cracks were, but her eyeliner is on point!

And finally we have Sinnamon Sugar! An actress, if I remember right! Made by @velvetemage (I hope that username hasn't changed/I got it wrong). This was a super chill cow /rankenstein design? And I thought I'd try my hand at it!

Commission Me!

[gordon-freeman-phd]

My Half-Life OC's (will be updated occasionally)

Brock Fuentes: A headstrong but cowardly guard working at black mesa with a mean streak to compensate

Richard Montague: A mycologist working at black mesa who dorms with Gordon. he is anxious, reserved, and very lonely

Jill Pobst: A guard working at black mesa, she is overly stern and aggressive to better fit in with the largely male guard population

Isiah Poole: A janitor working at black mesa, he minds his business (somethign that saves his life when it comes to the borrowers living at black mesa) and is generally a chill guy with a fondness for pet rats

Knipex: a borrower living at black mesa, theyre an engineer and eventually become friends with Isiah after being helped by him

Timmy: A young boy born during the 7 hour war, hes adventurous but is learning caution as he grows up under the combine and has a pet cat named Bagels

Bagels: Seemingly a regular cat, bagels is suspisciously intelligent with reddish eyes that seem to glow under certain contexts and seems rather fond of fucking over the combine at any given opportunity

Angus: A scientist on a xen exploration team, he becomes very lonely after getting stranded in xen after the rescas and becomes reliant on the zombified corpse of his lover Ed

Ed: A zombified scientist who is taken care of by Angus, over time he becomes a gonome

Lazăr: A combine worker/construction strider handler, during the rebellion he takes his assigned strider and skedaddles 🏃‍♂️

Galvanizer: A rollermine that got shocked just enough to scramble its programming so that it doesnt target much of anyone, eventually becomes somewhat of a pet to a rebel aligned walhammer oc named 1020 of one of my friends, its name is it (made up) combine technical term which 1020 calls it

Fred Otten: a long suffering guard who just before the resonance cascade lost his temper with a plaintive scientist and shot him dead, as the resonancr cascade begins, he pairs up with the now murdered scientists timid friend (an oc of one of my friends) to escape the facility

Robert Briggs: a nurse working at black mesa, just a stand up guy who loves his wife and makes it a habit to befriend lonely folks, richard included

V-8751: an alien grunt who survived black mesa and after many years of wandering by itself now resides on a outlander farm caring for cattle and doing its best to make nice with the outlanders despite the social differences between their two species and its growing guilt and feelings of isolation

Fletcher Lamb: a outlander living on the same farm as V-8751, born in scotland with a background in cow hoofing but now spends most of her time sewing and repairing clothes given his difficulties standing due to a spimal injury during a portal storm following the rescas, but he uses his hoofing skills as an excuse to socialize with V-8751

Cicada: a vortigaunt also living at the same farm as V-8751 who due to a brain injury at the hands of a crowbar weilding maniac during the resonance cascade, often struggles with catatonia as it withdraws into the vortesence

Felix Kessler and Alexis: a pair of metrocops who perform above standard but are perpetually disliked and skipped over for promotions due to their obnoxiously toxic attitudes to others and eachother but refuse to be paired with anyone but eachother because everyone else is worse

Antoine-Valery Veilleux: A resistance allied outlander who travels been outposts with supplies and any communicaes that cant go over radio waves. He has an ever growing collection of chihuahuas who cruises at every settlement and outpost he goes to, taken woman or not

Damned Crows: a sapient crow living at white forest who enjoys fucking with the resident humans, in particular a man named Magnusson

Rafał Lewkowicz: A citizen in city 17. His job is keeping the advisors being held in the citadel healthy. He has a developed an obsession with the advisors after having been shown visions of worlds and knowledge far beyond the comprehension of humans and longs to understand them

The Tor: Once a community leader among other vorts under the nihilanths reign and forced to be a commander during the rescas, he now roams without access to the vortessence with ex-farmers due to a teleportation accident in a portal storm

[avenin7]

Stupid mod au questions to answer at your convenience - road trip edition.

*Which characters can/will drive?

*Who chooses the music and what are they playing?

*Who inhales car snacks the whole jorney and who gets super car sick?

*Who is antisocial and wears their headphones the entire time and who talks nonstop and tries to get everyone to play games?

*Who has a steel bladder for like nine hours and who shamelessly pees in a bottle?

*Who takes the night shift driving?

*Who demands they stop at McDonald's and what is everyone getting?

*Who conks out and sleeps the whole jorney? Who takes gratuitous photos of them to upload to Instagram?

*Who gets unbearably cranky being in a small space with other people for too long and ends up in a fight?

*Finally; which song comes on the radio that causes them all to have to sing along?

Hii! Thank you for the ask! I wanted to do some art to go along with it it but I am burnt out haha. I've actually thought about this a lot actually!!

As much as Daruk would want everyone to carpool in his van, nobody trusts that shitbox to not explode within 60miles, so they take Link's subaru. Drivers would be all of them but location decided who's driving where. Revali, Urbosa, Mipha, Daruk can all navigate in cities pretty well (Daruk REQUIRES directions or else he will pick a direction and just drive endlessly). Link and Zelda do better with highway driving. They don't like last minute changes or not knowing where they're going, so being on the highway and cruising is preferable. (Link has really really good navigation, he just gets overwhelmed easily).

I would say they are probably listening to Urbosa's music the most. Second is probably Daruk. They both lean towards r&b music and pure chill vibes which is good for driving. (NOT Mipha's Rob Zombie or Link's Skrillex). They play that stuff when they're trying to stay awake at 2 am

Daruk & Link are the car snack demolishers but also surprisingly Revali as well. He mindlessly eats to keep himself engaged while driving (especially if nobody is actively talking to him). The rest of the group is eating junk but Revali & Urbosa are snacking on roasted cashews and spicy pickles like the freaks they are. And also speaking of food. When on road trips dietary restrictions kind of go out the window for sake of convenience. So nobody is really worried about "oh McDonald's is unhealthy" because theyre most just wanting easy calories for cheap. They usually just get a massive order of like 40 chicken nuggets and several large fries and plain burgers to share. If anyone wants anything specific they order it for themselves. (The amount of sauce packets lost in Link's car is unreal)

I think they'd all go in shifts of being antisocial and overstimulated. Having to take frequent breaks to stretch and get away from each other. But Link probably wears his ear defenders the most when he's not driving. Mostly cause even if everyone is quiet there's still going to be noise. So surprisingly he gets the most bickery and angry with people. Snappish. Revali or Mipha would probably try and get people to talk the most. Revali because he gets really bad highway hypnosis and so talking helps him. Mipha because she just loves making up games. Also she and Link are the ones to yell "cows!" every time they see them outside. (while Link reverently murmurs "horses" whenever he sees a horse)

Revali and Urbosa share nightshift driving duties. They both have the best eyesight and enjoy the quiet. Mipha also does too and her & Revali have had some really good heart-to-hearts while everyone has been asleep.

Link I think would want to conk out but can't, so Daruk does. He would be out and snoring the entire drive. 16 hours. He doesn't give a fuck. I think Zelda or Mipha would be the instagram photo girlies. Wanting to capture the moments (especially Mipha, she has a passion for photography). Revali only takes cringefail photos of everyone for blackmail xD

any song by Shania Twain or Lincoln Park is screamed at top volume. Also Eminem, 50 Cent, Sean Paul, Post Malone. Nobody is a Swiftie but if somebody had to be, it would be Revali 100%. (I have other songs and artist but I can't think of any right now TAT I do have a playlist of au music)

Don't Stop Believing by Journey is another song everyone screams and Bohemian Rhapsody. Pink Floyd is a particular favorite of Daruk, Link, Urbosa

Oh! I forgot! Link and Zelda can hold their bladders the longest. Daruk/Revali are both peeing in bottles without a care. Urbosa would but she doesn't have a device to help. Mipha thinks they're all gross and unhealthy in their bladder habits.

[asexual-disaster]

‼️FHJY EP 3 SPOILERS‼️

all my thoughts of episode three

AS PER MURPH LOOKS SO GOOD

as does lou

Riz literally biking to school with everyone’s files to make sure they can make it through the year !! stop he’s so cute

and then you and Adaine are nerds

actually for the wizards I’m super chill

riz literally finding out what college they could all get into!!!

figs multiclassing appears to be undocumented, how would her bard teacher know that she multiclassed if she never goes to class

me and riz would write three essays each

the lone wolf. his record is not as bad as it should be

‘i cast friends on both of you just to get you in the car’

‘it’s a 10 and i’ll give you the help action’

‘fluffier than mine?’

LYDIA IS MY LOVE, MY FAVOURITE MORHER (except u sklonda)

‘you guys missed this, song of the summer! kids are going nuts’ ‘this emo song starts over the radio’ proceeds to play the hardest song i’ve heard in ages

riz making adaine her own folder for fun that he signed inside ,, i will sob over this little goblin

a dragon with a receding hairline

the thistlespring sex binder stop

gorgug is such an awkward little guy

fabian not knowing how to make food, stop my baby has been abandoned

‘a little hobgoblin with a brass lollipop’

sorcery teacher jace, i would die for you. ur the teacher i would fancy in school

big shoes to follow

figs bad luck continues

‘should we sign up for student government? there’s gotta be a cabinet right?’

mazey is a highland cow stop i love her

stop she’s a dancer, was she at the camp fabian was meant to be at??

‘oh you’re in the buttcrushers?’

she’s worse than kalvaxus

badidas

FABIAN IS OLDER BECAUSE HE WAS ADVENTURING WITH HIS DAD??

‘that would impact you as well’ ‘yeah’

‘i’m going to go to bard class, you’re going to love this, but not as myself’

im going to cast disguise self on myself to look like an emo girly

wanda childa

here girlie

porter is hot shut up

gorgug getting told he can’t do the mcats because he’s a barbarian. basically being told he’s not smart enough to do artificer classes because he’s inherently stronger, angrier and ‘less smart’ stop

im going into a worry

fig taking fabian to a wizard class because she doesn’t know where bard classes are

‘fabian, you said something alarming and it made me curious’

riz’s entire interaction with jawbone

Kristen chillis applebees

KRISTENS BROTHER

the way it’s never really spoken about how kristen, as the oldest, protected her younger brothers from her parents but she’s been gone a long time and she’s now seeing that. behavioural pattern continued to them treating her oldest younger brother the same she was treated

BUD CUBBY STICKING UP FOR KRISTEN BY TELLING HER PARENTS THEYRE AWFUL PEOPLE STOPPP

‘a hard couple months?’ ‘in the dark? where’s your god? he’s the sun god right?’

‘that’s what you think’ ‘bye girlie’

adaine realising she can’t even afford her school supplies now is so sad

‘what smell would be enticing to emo kids? maybe cigarettes and peach schnapps’

i just wanda’d in

they’re investigating all of figs disguises???

figs agent is rubens agent too fuck off

kristen adhd confirmed

also kristen deflecting all of her trauma with humour is so sad

‘maybe i could just have a tiny little religion of weirdos who wanna gamble’

cassandra i love you but kristen is a literal child

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN CASSANDRA IS WITH KALINA

[rationalisms]

hi alma! could you recommend more smaller games? i'm trying to branch out and trust your taste

aw hey! idk that i'm the best person to ask because i just replay persona 4 golden on repeat forever but i'll try my best

killer frequency is a game about being a radio DJ in a small town in the 1980s who's thrust into the role of detective in a serial killer case

gnosia is a game about the crew of a space ship which is stuck in a timeloop and attempting to break free, except some of you are traitors taken over by alien parasites.

pony island is a chill puzzle game about beautiful ponies and absolutely nothing else. promise. :)

death and taxes is a game about clocking in at the grim reaping office and being a good death bringer (or not).

west of loathing is a turn-based rpg set in a post-apocalyptic western world populated entirely by stick people and demon cows.

2064: read only memories is a game about a sci-fi future in which you need to solve a mystery with the help of your AI friend.

also: once again begging absolutely everybody on my hands and knees to play the shadowrun returns trilogy. especially dragonfall and hong kong. (i could take or leave shadowrun returns honestly.) they are so so so so good.

hope you enjoy some of these!!! feel free to let me know what you thought <3

[weepingfoxfury]

The man on the radio talks of Rossini (William Tell Overture) and wonders if he liked horses, wonders if, like so many of us on hearing this certain tune, would he too have also have felt compelled to shout 'Hi-Ho Silver!' ... there's slow moving traffic near the Red Cow interchange ... then the Count from Sesame Street waltzes and sings of his childhood castle ... here there is total Rook gridlock, shouts of 'My branch! My branch!' at every turn ... Blackbirds (the Guinea pig crier of the hedgerows) shout 'Chup! Chup! Chup!' ... Starlings, with their bewildering noise array, sit in the guttering acting as tuneful Town Criers ... the old man on his small slow tractor goes Putt! Putt! Putt!, briefly raises his hand to wave and eventually passes by ... a world away from the rest of the world, yesterday's trip to the shiny metropolis feels delightfully distant ... can't help but wonder about that Red Cow interchange, wonder if she's looking as chilled as the cows here, wonder just how she directs the traffic, must be quite some gaze she gives all those motorists ...

[almorrall]

Crimson

Chapter One

As the forested valleys of western Massachusetts pooled before Iggy, he was overcome with nostalgia. His rust-gold sedan, a relic of the year 2000, rattled along, steam spurting from beneath its hood. A smile crossed his face as he glimpsed a sign for the sleepy farm town of Arden. Summers were peaceful and lethargic here in the Happy Valley, but twenty-thousand undergrads were on their way to change that. Bars and pizza shops would thrum with energy, as students returned, and the town resurrected. Epic keggers, elated singalongs and endless jams would soon rock the sweeping Zuma University campus.

Iggy looked to his brother Conan who snored along to the Chevy Cavalier’s rumble, a car affectionately dubbed “Lebron.” Axles creaked as Lebron descended country roads into the welcoming valley. They’d driven out from their home in the depressed mill town of Lawrence back east. Pine-fresh air brought him back, rolling through groves of sheltering leaves. Each time he returned to Arden, he prepared himself for the chaos of campus life. Memories surfaced in light and warmth, only reminding him that soon the good times would end. This was senior year, and he wanted to savor every minute.

It was 2010, after all, and no college student expected to find a job. The Great Recession still raged, Usher and Kesha dominated radio play, and flip phones were still rampant. That summer, Iggy lived out of a tour van, selling t-shirts, and fetching coffee for punk rock bands like Anti-Flag, Sum 41, and Reel Big Fish on Warped Tour. It was a raucous cross-country journey that opened his eyes to what the old U.S. of A. could offer. Already, he envisioned driving Lebron west to Colorado, Wyoming, and San Francisco Bay. Still, there was unfinished business here in old New England.

Taking the scenic route, Iggy rolled past golden fields of wheat, verdant cabbage, pungent cow pastures, and rusted-out tractors. Normally he drove straight to campus, but this year was different. He used his encyclopedic knowledge of Arden’s roads acquired from years delivering pizza to take in the sights, as if for the last time. From Route Nine, he ascended the Hadley Hills, Victorian mansions hiding behind every turn. Turning down the intriguingly named Laurana Lane, his Chevy Cavalier slowed to a crawl. He remembered getting a nice tip from delivering pizza on this street, but that didn’t excuse his dread. To his left was a house, immaculate in its stonework, towering like a medieval bulwark, ivy climbing up its walls.

Staring into windows that gaped like omniscient voids, a chill gripped Iggy’s chest. Early autumn wind cut through, dislodging a tile from the slate roof above to shatter in a million needle-like shards on its walkway. It was then he noticed dark, glaring eyes peering out from one of its bay windows. A short, bedraggled man burst out from the front door in a cloak that covered his head. He raised a white fist at Iggy, eyes glinting like obsidian from beneath the hood. Feeling transported back in time, he felt he’d stumbled upon something primordial and sinister. What unholy rites were practiced by this foul host in his ancient-looking fortress.

Hoarse rasps escaped from the man’s throat as Iggy’s foot broke its icy freeze to touch the accelerator. A whisper escaped the yard’s willows, telling Iggy to fly from this place with haste. The man was growing close, dull bellows reaching Iggy’s ears. He was caught by some far-off dream or memory: green, dripping bodies left to hang in a moldy basement. Iggy jammed on the gas, but Lebron refused to budge. A new fear took hold as his car stalled. It wouldn’t be a true victory lap without his trusty ride. Soon, the cloaked man would be upon him, and Iggy wondered what weapon he might carry concealed.

At the last possible moment, and as if in response to his concerns, Lebron lurched up the hill with titanic effort, leaving Laurana Lane behind. Still, that darkened spot in Arden’s Happy Valley would fester like rot in Iggy’s mind. What had he heard about the Hadley Hills? It was home to wealthy professors and administrators from the valley’s five colleges, apart from the bustle of Arden’s student population. Perhaps that’s why the neighborhood of stuffy, slate-roofed Victorians had seemed so alien to him.

Lebron sputtered into downtown Arden, a quaint Massachusetts town radiating from genteel Arden College at its center. Passing the esteemed college, where Iggy never dreamt of applying, he glimpsed the Lord Jeffrey Arden Inn. It was named for the town’s founder, a man famous for gifting blankets contaminated with smallpox to the local Native American tribes. This small ploy resulted in decimating the region’s indigenous population, kickstarting the national genocide, and paving the way for westward expansion. His descendants probably still lived on Laurana Lane.

Stopping at a light, Iggy craned his neck past Arden common to where the Lord Jeffrey Inn spied from behind tangled oaks. Its lawns were freshly mown, flowers wondrously kept, valets standing curbside at the ready. The inn sprawled like a great white plantation amidst the bookstores, cafes, burrito shops and bubble tea joints of old Arden center. Few remembered the Lord Jeffrey’s dark history, but Iggy took it upon himself to uncover such secrets, inspired by sophomore American History. That class taught him injustice lurked behind every great triumph and Arden College was no exception.

He remembered Arina Gershon, the girl he’d had a crush on freshman year. She attended a party at the Lord Jeffrey, invited by some arrogant Arden College frat boy. Past the inn’s yawning front door was a grand ballroom where Iggy imagined gentlemen and ladies danced to classical music and toasted champagne. He’d been texting Arina at the time, and something changed in her after that night at the Lord Jeffrey. She never responded, stopped going to class, soon dropped out, and later was found overdosed on drugs, somewhere in Springfield.

It was a fate Iggy had seen many times back home in Lawrence, but hearing his crush suffer the same fate was soul-shattering. What happened to Arina? He still dreamed of her, three years later, but likely he’d never know. He hadn’t had the courage to talk to her parents and wasn’t invited to the funeral. In fact, he barely knew her, and her friends refused to answer any questions he asked. He’d talked with her in College Writing, loved her radiant smile, the way she flipped her hair, but now, she was gone.

Beyond its strip of bars and restaurants, bohemian Zuma University sprawled into the woods in all directions. The brick storefronts took Iggy in like an old friend, as honest New England folk went about their lives. Arina receded from memory, and he preferred it that way. As a freshman, Arden had been an adjustment from the bustling projects of Lawrence. In three years, he’d grown to love its shady groves and open spaces. His friends gave him a new family here, and a place worth escaping to.

Conan still slept in the passenger seat, as Zuma University’s crimson sign flashed by. No denying it now. This was the last hurrah. Iggy approached four towers looming thirty floors into the sky. Somehow, he found a parking spot as ten thousand students scrambled to pack their lives into Southwest dormitories. It was one-square mile of non-stop parties, a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. In Southwest, bad decisions were a daily routine, and its beer-soaked, weed-clouded dorms stood in contrast to the cow pastures in sight across the highway.

Maybe Southwest reminded Conan of Lawrence, the fast city life he’d always known. Iggy was glad his brother came to the country for college, away from the crime and temptation of the real concrete jungle. Here, the worst you could get was a slap on the wrist and a stint in the drunk tank. Back home, the police had itchy trigger fingers. Drugs and violence were rampant in Lawrence, but bullets weren’t the answer. When Conan joked about joining the Bloods, Iggy knew it was time he left town. Iggy parked in a loading dock, flicking his brother in the ear.

Conan groaned as Iggy got out of Lebron to unpack his things. The brothers had similar features: blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, both a little under six feet, but Conan had about thirty pounds of muscle on Iggy. He’d spent the summers working landscaping jobs, cooking, and cleaning for restaurants, and in high school he was a star at track and field. Iggy never played organized sports, just watched them on TV like every good Massachusetts boy: the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins. Conan watched his brother struggle with his belongings.

“I’ll take your hamper,” Iggy grunted. “The trunk is too heavy.”

Conan cracked his neck and hoisted his leather-bound trunk with a wink. It was a hundred pounds easy. Iggy blinked in disbelief as his brother laughed, “Ain’t no thing.”

“For you, maybe. I see dad’s workin’ you hard in that gym.”

“His basement setup ain’t bad. Found every plate in the junkyard.”

Iggy still hated his childhood home where his father still lived, separated from his wife and family. At O’Reilly Finders you could “trade anything for anything.” It hardly sounded like the tagline for a legitimate business and Iggy was on good authority that it was not. Conan had been fascinated by the hustle and underground clientele it catered to. Iggy did his best to guide his brother away from that life. Conan had returned for sophomore year, so it looked like his efforts proved true. This was the last year Iggy could watch out for him though.

“You gonna pick a major soon?”

“Na, man, gonna slide by undeclared as long as possible.”

“C’mon, dude. Get real. Gotta be something you like.” Conan shrugged, gazing up at the tower dorms he’d soon return to. “All right, let’s get you moved in. I gotta make tracks.”

“Date with Rufus tonight?” Conan snickered. “Hey, can you get me three cases of PBR at the liquor store?”

Rufus had been Iggy’s best friend since they’d met in Sylvan quad two years back. They still lived in the dorm for loners, weirdos, and misfits. “How else can I be of service? That’s three full backpacks. I gotta lug those up to floor twenty-three.”

“There’s an elevator. Get Rufus to help.”

“Throwin’ down in your room, eh? You haven’t even met your roommate.”

“Only reason to pick Southwest for a second year. I’m back for more, Zuma’s ambassador.”

“Okay, Jay-Z.”

“I’ve got a dedicated following here. Can’t let ‘em down.”

“You better not invite any of those drug-dealing pill heads from Lawrence.”

“Okay, mom.” Conan’s eyes gleamed with mirth as a vein stuck out in Iggy’s forehead. “Don’t worry, none of them got into Zuma. I’m the only one.”

“Yeah, but you’re not like them.”

With Conan moved in, Iggy pulled out of Southwest. A car took his spot one second later. At campus center, he passed a white stack of Legos they called the Fine Arts building. On the right rose Orchard Hill, and further down laid maple-strewn Northeast quad. Flashbacks of hard-fought frisbee games surfaced in his mind, played in the shadow of Northeast Dining Common. Finally, Lebron ascended the hill to Sylvan dormitory, where a new generation of students dreamed beneath maple shade. Finally, he was home.

Parking out back, Iggy hauled his suitcase up the hill. Mom still made him use one without rollers. A brown brick dorm rose ten stories, drums and guitar thumping out its windows. At a picnic table, he spotted his long-lost pal: a broad-shouldered junior with a voluminous red afro hunched over a book. This was where he first met Rufus two years before, smoking hookah in Sylvan quad. From then on, they ate every meal together, regaling each other of college life. This time there was no tobacco-smoking device in front of Rufus, just a textbook with a knight on the cover.

“Still dreamin’ of Arthurian Legends?”

“Bro!” Rufus cried, jumping from his seat to wrestle Iggy in a bear hug. “From King Alfred to Larry Bird, you’re goddamn right I’m livin’ in the past! Been waitin’ all afternoon for you. Senior year, dude. Can’t believe it.”

“Well, not for you. But I know you’ll be at every party.”

“You bet. Comin’ out of my cage this year. Locked myself up for half of college already, reading and playing Guitar Hero. Leverett’s parties are gonna be lit.”

Leverett was one town over from Arden, a place where their friends carved a little slice of heaven to party, away from the cops and crowds. “YOLO.”

“Huh?” Rufus scratched his afro.

“You only live once, fam.” Iggy grinned, taking a seat. A summer breeze rippled through swaying oak boughs. Laughter and shuffling feet filled his ears as cars pulled up to unload their contents. A family walked past, arms laden with dorm supplies, kids bright-eyed, parents asking questions. It was another year, much like the ones before, and Rufus was by his side. They told the summers’ tales, got updates on the whole gang. This was their last rodeo before facing the real world. Iggy had a plan for that too, but he kept that to himself.

“Who’s your new roommate?” Rufus asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Iggy looked up, frowning. “He’s some grad student from India apparently. I was supposed to have a single room. We were gonna rock it out every night. Kinda lame.”

“It’s all good. We still got Leverett. Maybe your roommate’s cool.”

“Any grad student living in the dorms can’t be that cool.”

“Hey, you finish my copy of A Feast for Crows?”

“Nah, still grindin’.”

“Well, let’s meet your roommate. I’ll carry stuff in from Lebron if you want.”

“Thanks, dude.” Iggy tossed Rufus the keys, as his friend strolled down to the back lot. He returned with a full bed set and pillows under one arm and a plastic stack of drawers under the other. His thick arms held the belongings with ease, and Iggy shrugged in amazement at how strong he’d gotten working on organic produce farms over the summer. When Rufus reached Zuma, he transformed himself, dropping forty pounds freshman year. It was impressive, and his biceps and traps rippled through his undersized t-shirt.

Finally entering Sylvan dormitory, a weasel-faced Resident Assistant demanded to check their ID’s before they could proceed. Adjusting his maroon “Zuma U staff” hat, he scrutinized the fat-cheeked photo of Rufus, still bearing a lopsided grin. The RA compared it to the muscular junior with a jaw line before him. Iggy’s ID was easy to verify, as he was still the same blue-eyed, baby-faced assassin as freshman year. Finally, the RA granted them elevator access with a languid toss of his hand. Smashing the button for “floor eight,” they ascended.

“Still texting your ex?” Iggy asked.

“Yeah, and we met for dinner,” Rufus admitted, studying the corrugated metal floor.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, man. They don’t write books on love.”

“Actually, they do. It’s a whole industry.”

“What should I do?” Rufus sniffed, studying the elevator buttons.

“Well, I’m no expert either. Still no college girlfriend, but it’s senior year so who needs one?”

“Yeah, I’d like one though.”

“You’ll find her, man. You need a girl who can nerd out on your level: D&D, cosplay, all that junk.”

“Oh, man. Where can I find her?” Rufus laughed with his whole body, afro jiggling.

“And I’ve read your writing. It’s lit. Plus, you’re not a bad-looking dude either. You’re a catch.”

The elevator opened on floor seven where Rufus lived, making the two boys cock their heads in confusion. A green-eyed blonde in leggings stepped onto the elevator, prompting Rufus to toss Iggy’s drawers six different directions in fright. “Oh, sorry,” she laughed as he bent to frantically stuff Iggy’s clothes back inside. “I thought you were going down. I’ll take the stairs.”

On floor eight, they hung right to reach Iggy’s suite, an enclosed dorm area shared with a handful of other students. This was Iggy’s second year with these guys in his suite. Most were members of a mysterious jam band. It was quiet now, but acoustic guitars, theremins and djembe drums littered the common room. Finally, Iggy opened the door to his room, finding his new roommate bent over a sea of cardboard boxes. Long, unkempt hair and square-shaped glasses wheeled to meet him. Nearly tripping through a maze of computer towers and parts, his roommate extended a hand to shake.

“Y-you must be Iggy,” his voice was warm but shaky. “I’m Dopinder Shah.”

“Nice to meet ya, Dopinder,” Iggy shook the sweaty hand, his smile slipping as it came away moist. Rufus crashed into Iggy’s back, throwing bedding and plastic drawers to scatter across the room. A drawer knocked one computer tower over as socks and underwear filled open boxes of computer parts. Angry, dark eyes jabbed at Rufus as Iggy raked hands through his hair, viewing the disorder of his room. “Sorry about that. This is my buddy, Rufus.”

“Yeah, sorry, man,” said Rufus, offering his hand to shake. Dopinder merely fumed, bending to erect the computer tower and extricate blankets from computer chips. A sulking heat pulsed from Dopinder as he checked and rechecked his equipment, refusing to meet Rufus’s gaze. Iggy set down his bag of Boston sports paraphernalia and punk rock posters, furrowing his brow at the new roommate, feeling things were off to a rocky start. He wondered how Dopinder lugged all this stuff up here, and if it was safe to plug it all in at once.

“Maybe we should leave so Dopinder can set up,” Iggy said, once he’d deposited his things in a corner. The room was divided like a de-militarized zone and currently Dopinder’s stuff occupied more than three quarters.

“Dude, I almost forgot!” Rufus’s hazel eyes shone bright. “You gotta join this class I’m taking. It’s taught by one of my favorite authors.”

“Really? George R.R. Martin?”

“No.”

“Stephen King?”

“I wish. He’s Zuma’s top English professor. You’re gonna love it.”

“You’re not talking about Fantasy into Reality, are you?” Dopinder asked. Iggy and Rufus spun to face the roommate’s dark, narrowing eyes. His regard was layered with sudden heat and suspicion.

“Oh, yeah. How’d you know?” Rufus wondered.

“I’m Professor Montblanc’s assistant.”

“Really? Are you getting a Master’s in creative writing then?”

“No, I’m getting my PhD in computer science.”

“Really, with an English professor as your advisor?”

“Yes. I thought it odd as well. But Professor Montblanc has acquired grants for me to develop the virtual reality simulation I’ve been working on for over a decade. It’s called Crimson.”

“Sounds awesome. What’s it do?”

“You’ll hear all about it in class tomorrow.” Dopinder shifted his glasses with a grin.

Iggy didn’t like that look, whatever it might imply. Rufus didn’t seem to notice. Dopinder was clearly proud they’d be using the platform he designed, and it explained why he had so many computer parts. But why was he assigned an English professor as his advisor? If Professor Montblanc was really Rufus’s favorite, Iggy wondered why he’d never heard of him before. What had he written and what made him Zuma’s top English professor?

“You can’t tell us anything?” Rufus asked. “C’mon, if it’s really your life’s ambition, I bet you want to.”

“Perhaps,” Dopinder stroked black stubble and acne on his face. “But Professor Montblanc made me swear on my life I wouldn’t tell. He’d probably kill me.”

“That’s a little intense,” Iggy said, unsure if Dopinder was exaggerating. His roommate seemed deathly serious. Iggy turned to Rufus. “How come I’m just hearing about Montblanc now?”

“Discovered him this summer. Read all his books.”

“Damn. Write about him in your diary too?”

“He’s inspiring. I’ve watched his speeches on YouTube. So charismatic, a natural leader. It’s not just fantasy he dissects, its psychology, the root of all storytelling and the human condition.”

“I have a question,” Iggy returned to Dopinder, fiddling with a laptop’s microscopic screws. “How come I just got an email from housing last week that you’d be my roommate? Thought I’d have a single.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Dopinder sighed with what sounded like genuine shame. “Montblanc got the grant approved last minute. He’s dreamed of integrating VR into this class for years now. Must’ve pulled some strings to get all the funding.”

“Yeah, no offense, I’m sure you’re a cool dude. Just a shock, that’s all. Would’ve roomed with Rufus if I knew it’d be like this.”

“Well, I’m sorry to break up the bromance,” Dopinder laughed, spinning away in his swivel chair. Iggy scanned the room again, noting a carton of cigarettes and two cases of Coke on the windowsill. Apart from being a vegetarian, Iggy rarely drank soda and never smoked cigarettes. He preferred hiking, being in nature, and long drives. Ever since he was a kid, sharing a bedroom with Conan in Lawrence, he’d wanted his own space. Dopinder struck him as a homebody, and he better not smoke cigarettes in the room. Iggy felt his neck stiffen with anxiety.

“I just want senior year to be chill,” Iggy muttered. “But on my drive in, I got the weirdest vibe. This house at the end of Laurana Lane freaked me out. It was like an evil wizard’s castle.”

“Rad,” Rufus’s eyes lit up.

“And I passed the Lord Jeffrey Arden Inn too. I know it’s named for a genocidal colonizer, but I never noticed how much its presence dominates downtown.” Dopinder laughed from his corner of the room, drawing their gaze. “I was just at a party Professor Montblanc threw at the Lord Jeffrey. He had early investors for Crimson VR there. Had big plans for it, even talked about lining a job up for me. Oh, and by the way, I was out on Laurana Lane the other day. Professor had me over for tea to discuss Crimson. Your description matches his house exactly.”

[shining-skull]

RETRO RASCALS RECAP: SESSION 2

On a bright and sunny morning, the kids awake to the unsettling news of Farmer Johnson's disappearance as reported on the morning radio. Concerned, they convened at their treehouse and decided to take matters into their own hands, eager to beat the Hillstreet Heroes to the case.

En route to the Johnson farm, they encountered the O'Tools once again. Quick thinking from Chet Bonks, who spilled marbles to trip three of the O'Tools, allowed the group to escape using Lionel Jett's jury-rigged smoke bomb from his chemistry set. However, their journey through the spooky woods took an unexpected turn as they were harassed by a strange, glowing orb of electricity.

Thinking on their feet, Bobby plugged the Heckshredder hell-ectric guitar into the orb, playing a solo that drained some of its energy. Science-savvy Lionel used a slinky and a baseball bat to ground the ball lightning, reducing it to a mere spark. Lost in the woods, the team stumbled upon a clearing of burnt and felled trees surrounding a large, house-sized silver egg half-buried in the ground.

Using a cheat code from Bobby's Nintendo, they cracked the combination lock on the space egg, revealing a hologram of Farmer Johnson inside. Asked about the meaning of life, Lionel's insightful response, "Love and likingness" opened a door to another room. Inside, they discovered seven grey-skinned creatures wearing metal-wired helmets connected to a giant computer.

Using a stealthy approach, Bobby plugged the Heckshredder guitar into the computer, playing an epic distorted power chord that caused the alien's heads to explode. The commotion attracted the attention of a monstrous creature in from adjacent room – a hybrid with a cow's horned head atop a farmer's body. The kids engaged in a battle, ultimately defeating the creature by shooting acid at it, causing electrocution when its horns got stuck in the wall of the space egg.

Exploring further, they entered a room with a bizarre contraption: two vats connected by tubes and wires. In one vat, they found a cow's body with Farmer Johnson's head attached. Recalling his last memory of investigating crop circles and being lifted into the air by strange lights, and having a sore butt they placed the cow creature's corpse into the other vat and pulled a lever. In a blinding flash of light, Farmer Johnson's head was restored to his normal body.

Before leaving the spacecraft, the children discovered a computer screen showing an eerie animation of a red moon during a solar eclipse. The ominous prediction indicated this celestial phenomenon would happen in a week, accompanied by alien hieroglyphics that included the unmistakable number 666. The chilling revelation left the kids uneasy, hinting at a future catastrophe tied to impending cosmic disturbances.

As a token of gratitude, Farmer Johnson led the children out of the forest and treated them to barbecue at his house. In appreciation for their heroic efforts, they received corn on the cob and a thermos of iced tea as a prize, along with a strange alien helmet with antennas that they had discovered during their adventure.