#from the lights to the set dressing to the game system

[margonaughts]

#gonna ramble in the tags #I understand why peeps ask for system variety #there are lots of systems that tell specific kinds of stories well #but the reverse is true too #5e does a *specific thing* very well #without spoiling the story #I want to simply say | *chose* 5e for this thing it does #not because it's the biggest or the easiest for the table or whatever other lazy reasons folks want to ascribe #the mechanics are a part of the story being told #that's always been true #it's still true here #DnD is the legacy of a certain kind of gaming #which came from the veneration of a certain kind of cultural lens #critiques of DnD and the stories told inside that system center on how the mechanics center those cultural perspectives #knowing that there's a wide world of systems to pick from #I just hope y'all trust that there's a point to this choice #and if you watch and think I'm trying to say something #you're probably right #and if you think I still could have made a different choice in the end #lemme know #| love being introduced to new systems

Tags by @quiddie

For those asking: It's 5e because Aabria is tired of playing nice and wants to kill some stoats

Hope this helps 😊

[cutiecusp]

Forbidden Fruit.

Ex husband! Simon Riley x reader.

A text shapes your life forever. You just don't know it yet.

TW: mentions of cheating/divorce. Smut. PnV, pining, edging, power play, dom!Simon. Probably the smuttiest I've ever written.

You text your ex on a night out. He picks you up on his motorbike, feelings, and more ensure.

You swipe on your phone, idly killing time. You were out with the girls, celebrating a birthday. You post a few snaps on social media, and flick your phone off, the glassy screen reflecting your make up you spent forever on.

Straightening up your dress, you signal to the barman for another fruity potion. You were about three deep, and the vibes were immense. You felt the weight on your shoulders, but you paid it no mind as your favourite songs thumped over the speakers.

Cocktail in hand, body moving under the fluorescent light you dance with the girls, your cares and worries begin to hide at the bottom of your glass.

Your lipstick stains the straw as you finish your drink, you saunter over to the bar on your heels as you sit back to your seat.

Your phone notifies you of a reply on your latest selfie, you take it out of your bag, frowning as you focus on the screen.

'Look good enough to eat, doll. 💀'

Simon... your ex-husband, who you could never quite cut out of your life with one of his signature comments. You type a reply.

'Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest 🍑'

You put your phone away and dance to a few more songs before heading to the bathroom. Reapplying your lipstick and fixing your hair, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You see the shadow before you hear him. The smell of cigarette smoke and the cologne you brought him for his birthday fill your senses.

'Think it's cute to tease me, sweetheart? What, not getting enough cock as a free woman?' Simon says gruffly in your ear, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, titling your head up to look in the mirror.

"How did you?-" You pause.

"The location of the club was on your photo, love. Didn't I teach you to be more careful?" He cuts you off with a rough kiss to the temple.

"Think you've had enough fun, anyway... text the girls, let them know I'm taking you home."

You can't find it in you to protest as he runs his hands down your sides. Simon was like a drug, addictive and powerful, and it was hard to get out of your system.

You take out your phone, and does what he says, before clasping your hand in his.

"One more night." You say, more to yourself than anything as he leads you out of the club.

His only response is a grunt as he takes off his long sleeve shirt and wraps it around your waist.

"No one sees you but me. Get on." He urges you onto his motorbike, clipping your old helmet on, securing the strap under you chin before pulling it so his face was close to yours.

"No more games, my mistake was signing those papers while I was deployed." He says softly.

"You want one more night with me?" He asks plainly, his onyx eyes dark with desire. You nod dumbly, mesmerised by his gaze on yours.

"Words, sweetheart. Tell. Me." He asks again.

"Y-yes, Simon. I want this." You stutter out. Your once sweet Simon had been completely taken over by *Ghost* his work alter ego who you'd heard so much about, but he never subjected you to until now.

He started the engine and lurched forward, forcing you to wrap your arms around his leather cut. Stifling a laugh, he sped off into the night.

Arriving at his flat, you set down on steady feet as you cross the road to his front door. You lean in to his shoulder, and allow him to escort you through the front door.

Your breathing heavy in your chest as you stop him from removing his helmet. You wanted the full fantasy.

"That's alright with me, love. You can look at your make up running down your pretty face in my visor as I ruin you." Simon smirks.

You blush as the effects of both his words and the fruity drinks take over your senses.

"Knees, love. Show me how much you want this." He commands, pushing your head down as you kneel in front of him.

"So pretty for me." He coos, as he steps between your parted knees.

"My boots need shining, you know what to do." His gruff voice sounds deeper through the helmet.

You look up at him, your reflection reflected in the carbon plastic, you poke your tongue out in a matter of mock defiance, before lowering yourself on his boot. Your sensitive core pressed against his laces as your rock your hips against the material, soaking your thin bikini bottoms. You let out a little whimper as the pressure feels so damn good against your needy folds.

"Good girl." Simon commends you, as he brushes your hair back from your face with his skeleton gloved hand.

You nod and rock your hips a little faster, chasing a high you know only he can give you.

"You feeling good, baby?" He asks, his hands in your hair.

With an affirming nod, you mumble out a thank you.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you. I know you could be louder than that."

"Yes, Si. Thank you... Feels good." You admit. You hate and love how he makes you feel. Your need bubbling up in your throat as you are ready to declare anything he wants, if he just lets you-

"Stop, love." He pulls your hair so you are looking up at his blank face, hidden by the helmet.

"When you come, I want it to be on my cock. Be a good girl and get it out for me." He strokes your jaw.

"Let's put this mouth to good use, eh?"

You fumble with his belt, eventually pulling it away and unzipping his jeans. You see his size, against the fabric and your mouth waters.

"Please. Si. Let me.." You beg, your eyes unable to look away as you take out his cock from his jeans.

Your mouth enclosed over the tip of his length, suckling and rolling your tongue over the sensitive flesh. You feel smug as you hear him hiss, pulling on your hair as he bucks his hips against your mouth.

"Fuck, love. I forgot how good you feel around my cock" He says, looking down at your face, your make up beginning to run down your cheeks as they hollowed in and out, as if you were putting on a show for him.

You let out an amused huff as you take him deeper, rocking your hips against his boot slowly as your mouth takes him to heaven and back.

Eventually, he pushes you down to the floor, off his boot. You moan at the lack of pressure against your clit

"Get on the bed." He orders, his body betraying his cool exterior.

"On your bloody knees, ass up for me."

You scramble on the bed, your legs jellified as you assume the position he requested.

"Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want that?" You nod, anticipation running through your body in waves.

You feel a sharp sting on your ass as he brings down his gloved hand on your flesh, wet with his own arousal.

"Words. Sweetheart." He repeats, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes, Simon. Make me feel good." You give him your permission, as he pushes your dress over your hips, tugging your bottoms down, exposing your wet folds to the air.

"Such a pretty pussy, love. She's been neglected, hasnt she?" He asks, running a finger through your sensitive flesh.

You mumble a yes, when another slap hits your ass.

"Louder, love. Hasnt she?"

"Yes. Si!" You agree, tears in your eyes at the sting of his hand on your sore skin.

"And I'm the only one that can make her feel better, isn't that right love?" He presses, his finger breaching your walls.

You rock your hips against his hand, almost chanting his name at this point, anything to relieve the pressure building in your lower stomach.

"Y-yes, only you." You slur, completely drink on emotions.

"No one like you, Si." You admit, as he pulls away from you.

"You want this?" Simon asks one last time.

You wanted to tear your own hair out. You were desperate for him to fill you up, make the ache go away for a little while, why was he hesitating?

"Fuck yes. Please, Si, please." You beg, looking into his helmet, your face wet with tears, your make up tracing lines down your face, your lipstick on your chin. To you, you've never looked messier, but to him, you've never looked more beautiful.

He lines up his hips with yours, pressing his length home, sheathing himself in your warmth. You both let out a hiss, as pleasure caresses your spine, and fleets over your body in waves.

You feel his gloved hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back onto his cock.

"You like rough, sweetheart?" He asks through clenched teeth as his hips snap into yours, knocking the breath out of you with every thrust.

You barely manage to get out a reply as he picks up the pace, pushing your head into the pillow as he pounds into you from behind.

Your moans drown out his as he hits your spot over and over again.

"Keep making those noises for me baby." He urges as you feel the wave of an orgasm approaching.

He stifles a groan as you clench around him, your walls suffocating his cock as he feels you getting close.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" He taunts, as his pace is hard against your body.

Your eyes close tight as it hits you, a white flash behind your eyes as you reach your climax, your pussy tight around him as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you, your toes curling in pleasure.

"Too much.." You gasp, trying to come down from the high.

"You have one more for me. Don't you?" He reaches over your hip and teases his hand over your puffy clit.

"Wanna come with you, baby." He insists, as you feel another orgasm rip through you, and you feel Simon stiffen, as you feel his spend inside you.

He rips off the helmet and pulls you down onto the bed, onto the bed. He removes his gloves with his teeth, and collects a little of your arousal on his fingers and licks them clean.

"You were right. It does taste sweeter."

A/N thank you all so much! This was a labour of love, totally wrote it at the bus stop, hoping no one would read over my shoulder. It's not been proof read, but I kinda love how bossy he is here.

@misshugs @frudoo @thevoiceinyourheadx @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @yesornowaitidontknow @shadowdark00

[lo1k-diamonds]

💎Masterlist💎

All my writing can be found on ao3 and there’s no way I’m putting my gigantic stories here 🙈😅

That said, I’ll still put here the list with all my stories and links to find them!

[All my stories have angst - from just a misunderstanding to full-blown out-of-proportion fights 😋]

🔥 » SMUT | 📚 » multichapter | 🎀 » fluff [G- general/T- teen/M-mature/E-explicit]

Series

Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) >> [Masterpost] >> In this soulmate alternative universe, there are no marks, no strings, and no traces to guide them to their other half. But if they listen carefully, destiny is just around the corner patiently waiting to mix them in the soul palette and create universes - together.

SX Seoul >> [Masterpost] >> SX Seoul is a new club in Itaewon. Decorated with neon lights, its cozy and enveloping ambiance will have you living your wildest dreams. Each story is standalone - one per member!

RM 

Unique (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ

Part 1: After overhearing something he shouldn’t have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her maid of honor company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more. [Tumblr]

Part 2: It’s a year later when Angie decides to visit Hyejin, both women looking to get away from their problems. But a certain group is just pausing their tour, and old feelings are rekindled when their paths cross.

Klartraum (E) 🔥📚 - OC x idol!NJ - AU » A story that follows Namjoon as he takes notes of his dreams of you in a dream journal.

Smoke Sprite (M) 🔥 - idol!Namjoon x So!YoON! - A short drabble about the song [Tumblr]

Closer (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » NJ x Reader » Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark. [Tumblr]

Jin

Carnation (T)📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (1st entry)» OC x idol!SJ » In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Break-line (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Jin x Reader » You’ve been chasing dreams and medals ever since you can remember, with your best friend Seokjin by your side. You thought you had everything you could possibly want — until you find out Jin is keeping a secret from you. [Tumblr]

Suga

Call you mine (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (3rd entry)» OC x idol!YG » A slowburn rejection soulmate story about falling in love with Min Yoongi. [1st chapter - Tumblr]

Sugar Rush Ride (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » YG x Reader » You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party. [Tumblr]

Too Sweet (E) 🔥📚 » You x Demon!YG » Coming from unabashed wealth has its perks — like never having to lift a finger in your life. When that suddenly changes, you end up at a crossroads: how far will you go to have everything you want? [Masterpost]

Stellar Behavior (E) 🔥📚 » Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader »  Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.[Masterpost]

J-hope

Seeking the sunrise (E) 🔥📚 - Soul Palette (Soulmate AU) (2nd entry)» OC x idol!HS » No one needs a soulmate to have love, right? [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

Jimin

Dress (E) 🔥 - OC x idol!JM » After pining for years, she has reached her breaking point — and it started with a dress. [Reader version - Tumblr]

Like Crazy (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » JM x Reader » You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin’s next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right. [Tumblr]

V

Love Crumbs (M) 📚 - OC x Office!Tae - Office AU » Quinn’s plans were simple: win that promotion and maybe have a little fun on the side. Taehyung was in love with someone else, but that wasn’t an issue. It’s a shame things are never really that simple.

A woman's best friend (E) 🔥 - Tae x (f) reader » When you met, you and Taehyung hit it off instantly, becoming the closest of friends. You thought he was off limits, meanwhile, he’s been begging for a chance to put an end to your friendship. [Tumblr]

Paramour (E) 🔥 - SX Seoul Series » Tae x (f) reader » You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour. [Tumblr]

Jungkook

Far Cry (E)🔥📚 - OC x idol!JK - Lost AU » After barely escaping captivity, Jungkook is lost in a jungle on an unknown island with an injured Namjoon and an amnesiac girl. {ongoing 💜} [1st Chapter - Tumblr] ➡ snippets

Standing Next to You (M) 🔥 - You x Demon!JK - MV based » JK is a lust demon — a powerful being that inflames desires at the simplest glance. That is his nature and all there is to his existence. Until there was you.

Bubbles (E) 🔥📚 - SX Seoul Series » JK x Reader » You’re back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes. - [Part 1] [Part 2]

How to Choose a Valentine (T) 🎀 - reader x idol!JK » Who knew the best company for Valentine’s Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he’d get you a Valentine? Well, sort of. [Tumblr]

Be as it must (E) 🔥📚 » Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader »  It’s hard being an omega in a world where they've all but disappeared, but you're safe as long as you stay under the radar. What happens when you're found and taken to your boss, CEO Jeon Jungkook?[Masterpost]

[erisenyo]

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

[holybibly]

Bunnies, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm going to give you a little teaser of my upcoming work with Hwa. I'm going to raise the bar for fanfic writing by creating the most gothic and decadent universe possible. It's a vicious mix of Interview with the Vampire and Dracula, so if you don't like bloody luxury, I feel so sorry for you.

It has always been like this, and it will always be like this—people avoid the village that stands beside the sinister Gothic castle where, according to legend, a beautiful midnight somnambulist holds the guilty legacy of his bloodthirsty ancestors. Dressed in an ancient coronation robe, the magnificent prince of vampires sits alone in his dark, vast house, under the watchful eye of his mad and terrible ancestors, who stare at him from faded portraits, each of them prolonging their dreary posthumous existence through him. He spreads the tarot cards, tirelessly constructing endless constellations of indeterminate possibilities, as if a chance fall of cards on a regal, bloody velvet tablecloth could take him out of this cold, shuttered room and into a land of eternal summer and human warmth, erasing his heart's ancient sadness and allowing him to feel the love for the one who embodies both life and death simultaneously.

His voice is full of the distant echoes of long-forgotten love poems, like an echo that has resounded beneath the layers of the earth: "You have traveled to a place from which there is no return; you have traveled to a place from which there is no return. And he himself is like a dark dungeon filled with lonely echoes—a system of repetition, a closed circle. He is so handsome that his beauty appears unnatural; his beauty is an anomaly, a perfect defect, for in none of his hypnotic features is there even a suggestion of the poignant imperfection manifested in the imperfection of human existence. His beauty is the sign of a fatal disease; his blood is full of poison; and his black tears are the sign of the absence of a soul in him. 

The elegant hands of the beautiful denizens of darkness are the guides of the hand of fate. The nails on his hands are long and sharpened like steel daggers. These nails and teeth—beautiful, glistening in the darkness like snow under the light of the moon—are visible signs of his inescapable fate, which he so desperately tries to escape with magical powers. His claws and teeth have been honed by centuries of brutal wars and bloody orgies; he is the last descendant of a poisonous, barren tree that took root in a time when men worshipped blind gods and the forces of nature. 

As soon as the flaming sun sets, he rises from his luxurious bed and goes to the table, and sitting at that table, he plays his patient game until hunger awakens in him—an insatiable, scorching hunger that burns his whole being. 

[mykneeshurt]

Interrogation - Keegan P Russ x F!reader x Ghost

As per usual, minimal plot, all porn. Not written well just pure horny thoughts. Thank you once again to @sashadiurnal who helped me with the plot, that I butchered as I’m unable to keep on the straight and narrow. Tee hee

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, praise kink, degradation, p in v, p in a, DP, f oral receiving, m oral receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, breath play (goes without saying this is fiction, in real life we wrap willies, love consent, love safe words and aftercare!)

‘Get your fuckin hands off me!’ You spat as you were thrown down into a chair. Your vision was obscured by a foul smelling bag, no doubt used on countless others. Your hands were cuffed in front you, the cold sting of the metal bit into your wrists.

The bag was ripped from your head as a blinding light filled your field of vision. Hissing you held your hands to your eyes, trying to ease yourself into the white light of the room. Lowering your hands two figures slowly came into focus. Once you recognised them a fire was set alight in your core. Sergeant Keegan P Russ and the Lieutenant known only as Ghost.

‘Long time no see boys. It’s a pleasure as always’ you sneered. You were sat on a metal chair in what looked like a small office. You didn’t know every nook and cranny of your base, so assumed it was in one of the wings you didn’t normally frequent.

They stood in front of you, Keegan with his hands on his hips, dressed head to toe in white camouflage. Ghost dressed in the same but with a black balaclava where a white skull adorned the front. He had his arms crossed, biceps bulging as he took in your form. You’d managed to avoid them for a decent amount of time, but looks like your time had finally run out.

‘Where’s the launch codes for the missiles’ Keegan asked, his hands tensed over his hips. ‘What launch codes?’ You smirked, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Don’t fuck about. That launch codes. Where are they?’ Ghost asked, his voice filled with frustration. ‘Aww big bad Ghosts couldn’t get through my security system?’ You pouted, trying to give your best doe eyed glare. ‘Ask me nicely, maybe I’ll give em to you.’

Keegan walked around the table, menacingly. Hands still firmly resting on his hips, they swayed as he made his way over to you. ‘No, you’ll give them to us, we can be very persuasive.’ You raised an eyebrow, biting your lip, ‘you know it’s not torture if I like it Russ.’ His eyes narrowed at your remark as he lowered his face dangerously close to yours, ‘give us the fuckin codes Vesper.’

‘Make me Russ’ you whispered, a smirk tugging on the corner of your lips.

Grabbing your shoulders he lifted your body and threw you into the wall in one swift motion. Your body hit the wall with a thud, a low moan escaped your chest. Keegan stood you up and pressed his forearm onto your throat. His azure eyes cut into you as you bit your cheek. He pressed harder into your throat. ‘Fuck, don’t tempt me with a good time Russ’ you managed to choke out.

‘Tryin my patience’ Ghost barked from the background. Pulling your eyes from Keegans you locked onto Ghost, clenching your thighs together at the pool of arousal that gathered in your panties. Ghost dropped his eyes, noticing the minuscule movement. His eyes widened in realisation ‘shes fucking gettin off of this.’ Smiling at his revelation you once again met Keegans stare. ‘I think someone’s feeling left out Russ. You might need to share.’

Pulling you taught against his body he moved you over to the table, slamming your torso down onto the cold surface. Your cuffed hands barely broke your fall. Keegan laced his fingers through your hair pulling your neck until you rest against him. ‘Wanna play that game? Fine. Guess I’ll fuck it out of you instead’ he growled into your ear. A devilish giggle dripped from your lips as you pushed your ass into him.

Keegan motioned to Ghost to come over, the 6’4 Adonis stalked his way over to the table. Keegan lifted you by the collar of your shirt and pushed you into Ghost. Pulling your cuffs he placed your arms over his neck, forcing you onto your toes. Ghosts heavy, dead eyes bore into yours as your breathing picked up a notch.

Keegan wrapped his hands around your waist and found your belt, pulling it out of the belt loops with a ‘thwack.’ Undoing your button he slowly worked your trousers down, resting just beneath the crease of your ass. Keegan lowered his mouth to your ear, nipping it slightly ‘eyes on Ghost, don’t look away.’ Your thighs clenched again.

Keegan caressed the supple skin underneath your panties, considering how much he hated you, it was a tender touch. The slap of leather on leather filled the room, excitement shone in your eyes. Ghost pulled you closer to him and held your hips, arching your back.

A heavy slap rang out in the small office, as Keegan swatted your ass cheeks with your belt. A breathy moan fell from your mouth as you fought to keep your eyes on Ghost. Three more slaps to your ass made you dance the dangerously thin line between pain and pleasure. A crimson line decorated your cheeks, Keegan massaged it softly ‘that’s it, fuckin take it.’

Your eyebrows furrowed together, your pussy now weeping with arousal. ‘Not gonna kiss me?’ You whispered to Ghost, ‘not very hospitable of you.’ Ghost trailed his hand up your back, as Keegan pulled your panties down. Gripping your hair Ghost pulled your head, allowing him access to your neck. He planted masked kisses along your skin, and onto your jaw.

You flinched at the sudden intrusion of Keegans fingers along your slit. He gathered your juices on his fingers before placing them in your mouth. You twirled your tongue around his fingers moaning at the taste of yourself. ‘Fuckin hell’ Ghost whispered into your neck. Keegan returned to his position behind you, this time inserting his middle and ring finger into your cunt. Pumping it slowly, before building a punishing pace. The wet sound of your pussy made their cocks stiffen.

Ghost pulled his mark up slightly finally giving in and kissing you. He tasted yourself on your lips, he groaned at the taste. Nipping your lip he pulled back, ‘she tastes so fuckin good’ he drawled. Keegan grunted in acknowledgement, too busy listening to the sound of your cunt around his fingers. You flopped your head into Ghosts chest, lost in the maze of pleasure, you moaned and writhed from the sensations.

Keegan readjusted his fingers, using his index and middle finger in your pussy. This time easing his ring finger into your tight ass hole. A slurred moan erupted from the pit of your chest. You rolled your hips back into his fingers, pleading for more. ‘Such a filthy little bitch’ Keegan scolded ‘so needy for our cocks aren’t you.’

‘Yes … fuck, yes’ you whimpered.

Removing his fingers he then lifted your aching arms from around Ghosts neck. He moved you back to the table lying you on your back. Ghost stood by your head, which was conveniently level with his throbbing cock. Keegan buried his face in your cunt, savouring your taste agains his tongue. Your eyes rolled the back of your head as Ghost tapped his cock on your lips. He was thick, your eyes momentarily widening at the girth. A dark chuckle exuded from him, he leant down and whispered against your lips ‘you’re gonna take my cock and you’re gonna fuckin choke on it.’

Opening your mouth he thrust his cock in your mouth, his girth filling you entirely. He was unforgiving. Relentless. He watched as your throat stretched for him, eyes watering and gagging around him. Pulling out he slapped your cheek, ‘that’s it, good girl, such a good little slut.’ You bucked your hips at his words, causing Keegan to release a guttural moan into your pussy.

Not being able to take anymore Keegan stood and pulled down his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock. He pumped himself as he watched Ghost abuse your throat, your body writhing, desperate for Keegan to fill you. He lined himself up before pushing his cock in, inch by inch. You moaned around Ghosts cock as Keegan filled your creamy cunt. Keegan struck your clit with the tips of his fingers, as he did Ghost pulled out allowing you to finally breath.

A borderline pornographic moan filled the room, your back arched off the table as you squeezed your eyes shut. Ghost slapped your face again, before ramming his cock once more into your tiny throat. He watched as his cock bulged in your throat, trying to accommodate his girth.

Keegans pace was brutal, he hitched your thighs around his slutty little waist as he thrust into you. ‘Feels so fuckin good, so fuckin good’ he was breathless ‘such a whore, taking this cock so well.’ The mixture of praise and degradation kept your head spinning. His fingertips assaulted your hips, surely causing bruises. The thought of him marking you only made you more wet. Keegan threw his head back, eyes rolling as your cunt clenched around him. ‘She’s so tight’ he whimpered.

Ghost pulled out, pushing you back to a standing position, this time hooking your arms over Keegans neck. Keegan lifted you from the table, your legs still wrapped around his waist. This time keegan leant into your lips, kissing you, chasing your tongue with his. Ghost came behind you, pressing body against yours, sandwiching you between them.

Keegan still thrusted into your abused cunt as Ghost lined himself up to take your ass. He leant down placing a kiss on your cheek before spitting onto your tight hole. He pushed in slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Keegan inhaled your moan as Ghost stretched out your ass, the two of them began moving in tandem.

You dropped your head back onto Ghosts shoulder, completely blissed out at your holes being stretched, abused, assaulted. ‘Look at her’ Ghost marvelled, ‘taking two cocks at once, fucking whore.’

‘Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop, please’ you begged. Ghost snakes a hand around your neck, squeezing it until your face went red.

You felt the pressure building, rapidly. ‘Make me cum, please, fuck I wanna cum’ you sobbed, your body was overstimulated but begging for release. Keegan pulled you back to his lips, nipping your them as he kissed you. ‘Gonna cum in this tight ass of yours’ Ghost grunted from behind you.

‘Please, please, please’ you babbled into Keegans neck.

Ghost gripped your hips like a vice as he came, a deep breathless moan danced over your shoulder. He pulled out leaving you feeling suddenly very empty. Keegan placed you back on the table, picking up his pace, slapping your clit once more. ‘Take it Keegan, please’ you whimpered, bucking your hips and arching your back. He leant forward placing his forearms either side of your head. He stared into your eyes as he came moments later, his cock shooting hot ribbons of cum into your cunt.

You came not long after, the coil finally snapping. Beads of sweat coated your forehead and you tried to catch your breath. You could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, part of you wanted him to fuck it back in. Keegan placed a kiss to your cheek, ‘codes.’

[little-emerald-snake]

ayo for kinktober could you do Leander x f!MC cuckolding? I feel like he'd be into that. I mean that genuinely not like in a malicious way he would get off on having his girl get fucked and watching from the side

Cuckolding - Leander Prewett X Garreth Weasley X F!MC

I LOVE the idea of Leander being into cuckolding! This was a breeze to write, thank you SO much for the suggestion 💕

🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI

Warnings: cuckolding, voyeuristic Leander, oral f receiving, fingering f receiving, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, aftercare

2k words

Leander had this fantasy for as long as he could remember. The fantasy of sending his girlfriend on a date with his best friend and them coming back to have sex on the bed right in front of him while he watched.

He didn’t know why and for the longest time he hid it deep within himself till one night while out drinking with a group of his old schoolmates, he admitted to Garreth that he’d had a fantasy that involved him.

Garreth was taken aback but didn’t shame his friend at all like Leander thought he might. Instead Garreth clapped him on the back and told him it sounded like a hot idea.

Leander stared, wide eyed at his friend, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t he opened and closed his mouth in confusion till he finally found the words. “You mean…you don’t hate the idea? It doesn’t…weird you out?”

Garreth chuckled, pulling his friend close to him with a smile. “Mate, you just told me you wanna watch me fuck your girl? Why would I be mad that you wanna watch me get hot pussy?”

Leander swallowed, finally allowing himself to calm down and laugh a bit with his friend. “I-I guess that’s true. So…you’d actually be down for it…if she’s actually interested?”

Garreth contemplated for a moment and even through the alcohol flowing in his system he shrugged. “Why not? Could be fun. She always has been a pretty thing. If it’s what you both want then let me know. Seriously.”

Leander did exactly that. Going home and confessing his fantasy to his girlfriend who also wasn’t opposed to the idea. She wanted to hear him explain it again once he’d sobered up but if it’s truly what he wanted then she saw no reason to deny it.

In the morning, Leander went over his idea with a fresh mind, telling her exactly what he wanted all over again, surprised to see she was still game for it.

He called his best mate and let him know that he was still interested, that they were both down. Garreth agreed and Leander created a group chat between the three of them. They planned out that next week Garreth would take her out on a date and upon arriving back at the house, he’d take her upstairs and they would do the deed while Leander watched.

The day finally came and Leander couldn’t contain his excitement. They’d gone to a simple but nice dinner where they knew they wouldn’t get recognized. Garreth had done exactly what his friend had asked, flirted with her and made her feel special all night.

Upon their arrival back at the house Leander went upstairs and sat in the chair in the corner of the room. He was already hard at the thought that at this moment his beautiful girl and his best friend were about to walk in and have sex in front of him.

They walked into the room, pleasantly surprised to see a dimly mood lit room all set by Leander. She took a glance at him in the corner and smiled when their eyes met.

Garreth gave him a nod before picking her up and tossing her down on the bed. She let out a surprised yelp as Garreth crowded over her, climbing over the top of her body.

He sat up on his knees, pulling her leg up and undoing the strappy gold heel she wore before neatly setting it down beside the bed and kissing a trail up her calf.

He gave the same treatment to the other leg, being careful to set her heel down nicely along with the other. His eyes locked with Leander’s, who was already palming himself and giving a nod to his best friend.

Garreth hesitated, lifting the light layers of her dress, a pretty pink one that ended at her knees. He lifted it, taking in the sight of her already naked below it. She blushed a scarlet red when Garreth’s eyes met her own. “H-he asked me to…”

Garreth chuckled, he’d have to thank his mate later for leaving the gift unwrapped for him. Garreth wasted no further time, diving between her legs and spreading them apart.

She turned away, eyes locking with Leander’s over Garreth’s shoulder as Garreth spread her pussy lips and licked a thick stripe through her folds. Her head tipped back as she let out a moan.

Garreth expertly rolled his tongue around her clit, avoiding direct contact. She moaned louder, her hips coming up off the bed in sweet agony as her cheeks burned hot.

She chanced a look down to Leander and bit her lip when she saw him stroking his cock, eyes hooded as he watched his best friend devour her pussy.

She couldn’t believe how good it felt, it felt wrong but she couldn’t deny that Garreth’s tongue felt like heaven and as his fingers caressed up her thigh and inched closer and closer to her throbbing core.

Garreth inserted two fingers, thick but sliding in easily from how wet she was. He finger fucked her, curling the tips ever so slightly till he felt the spongy texture of her g spot.

She choked on a sob that wracked through her body. Her pussy clenched around him as he worked his magic with his two fingers inside her, alternating between rolling his tongue just around her clit and lapping quickly over it.

With her feet planted flat on the bed, her legs shook, hand itching to grip a fistful of his hair and grind against him to seek the sweet relief she desperately needed.

She heard Leanders groan from the corner and her unfocused eyes met his. His eyes practically burned with lust and it tipped her over the edge she needed, crashing into the waves of her orgasm, pulsing around Garreth’s fingers while she arched up to grind against his tongue.

Hearing her cry out and feeling her clench around his fingers, Garreth looked up, smirking devilishly as he watched her pant and try to regain her composure beneath him, small fists still wrapped in the sheets.

He glanced back at his mate who was smearing his own precum across the head of his cock to use as lubrication. Garreth gave him a look and Leander nodded in return. A silent check in that he was still okay with this.

He sat up, gripping her hips and sliding her down the bed, closer to him. He quickly worked his pants open, letting his cock spring free. She sat up on her elbows getting a look at the size of him.

She whimpered softly, where Leander was longer by far, Garreth was thicker. Both of them had a ginger thatch of pubes, neatly trimmed. It made her mouth water.

Garreth spread her legs apart, slotting himself between her legs. Leander cleared his throat and both looked back to him with concern etched into their features. Leander simply smiled at them. “Don’t you want to take her dress all the way off? Get a look at her gorgeous tits? Maybe let her see your chest too?”

Garreth swallowed, eyes meeting hers in question. She was bright red but nodding as if she really was interested in seeing his body. Garreth helped her sit up, tugging the dress gently over her head and letting his eyes rake over her perky set of full breasts.

He swallowed, his hands coming up to undo his buttons and pull off his dress shirt, then his undershirt. He watched in fascination as her eyes trailed over every inch of him. He was bulkier but still cut like a Greek god, something Leander had never managed to achieve.

He lined himself up at her entrance again, still shocked that Leander wanted him to specifically fuck her without a barrier. They’d both assured him she was on the potion so he went along with it, not about to argue with fucking her raw.

Garreth slid inside her soaking wet channel. For how wet she was, she was still tight like a greedy little vice around him and it forced a shiver down his spine at how hot and intense her pussy felt, clinging around him.

Leander piped up from the corner, the sound of him fisting his cock slowly just audible in the still silence. “She’s fucking tight isn’t she? Soaking wet and warm like nothing you’ve ever felt before?”

Garreth grunted, unable to deny that she was definitely the tightest pussy he’d ever had the pleasure to fill. She clenched around him and he let out something akin to a startled whine.

He couldn’t hold back, pushing all the way in and setting a steady pace of fucking her. She clung to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, practically milking him dry with her cunt in the process. Garreth groaned. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking good…”

Her and Leander moaned in tandem, her pussy clenched around him again and she felt him brace his arms around her, another grunt leaving him. “Oh baby, he’s not used to tight little pussy like you. You’re gonna make him blow like this. Why don’t you enjoy it for a bit, then ride him.”

She whimpered, reaching up to wrap her arms around Garreth’s neck as her pushed into her. His arms were already shaking but he grit his teeth and fucked her reguardless. She watched his abs flex and it sent ripples of pleasure soaring through her.

Garreth stilled, an uncertain moan leaving him. She felt him pulsing inside her like he was about to cum but didn’t feel him releasing. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me cum too quick like this…”

He pulled out, cock twitching desperately at the loss of her tight heat. He rolled to his back and she was quick to follow, straddling him and lowering herself down onto his cock.

He groaned beneath her, squeezing his eyes shut as if he was in pain. She looked back at Leander, still pumping his swollen and angry cock, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

Everything was turning her on so intensely she rolled her hips a few times before placing her hands on his chest and bouncing on him. She moaned, tossing her head back at the new angle of friction.

She was able to control the speed and intensity. His eyes rolled as she tilted her hips so the head of him would brush right against her g spot.

She was a mess in a matter of seconds. She rode him quick, falling apart at the seams as he thrust up into her, hands landing on her hips to hold her in place.

It was a race and both of them were tripping over their feet to get to the finish line. She was crying out, pussy soaking wet as she finally let go, Garreth following her right over the edge and filling her so full it leaked out of her around him and into his lap, down his balls.

Leander let out his own breathy grunt from the corner, cum shooting from his tip before slowly bubbling out and down his fingers.

She collapsed in a heap on Garreth’s chest. All of them spent and exhausted, trying to regain their breath.

Leander was the first, grabbing a rag to clean himself up before tossing her and Garreth a few. He tucked himself away before moving to help. Cum dripped out of her as she dismounted Garreth and laid back against the sheets.

Leander cleaned her up gently while Garreth took care of himself. Once they were cleaned up, Garreth got dressed and Leander helped his girlfriend into a robe. They said their goodnight and Leander promised they’d reach out in the morning.

He spent the rest of the night doting on her, helping her shower and asking her about things Garreth did that she liked and if she’d ever want to do this again. Surprisingly, all three of them agreed they’d be down to do this again, and eventually it just became a thing between them that happened on occasion.

[homestuckreplay]

This Video Game Ended The World. Now What???

Sburb (Skaianet Systems 2009) has capacities that go far beyond what a typical video game can accomplish – but it is still a video game, bounded by rules, mechanics, quests, non-player characters and programming decisions even while it is not bounded by a digital space. Asking what the end goal of Sburb is, what skills it is trying to teach its players, and what kind of person it is trying to turn them into could shed some light on not only the future of the story, but also what Homestuck is trying to say about video games’ role in the world more generally.

In his book The World Is Born From Zero (2022), video game scholar Cameron Kunzelman discusses his concept of ‘potential labor’ within science fiction video games – where a player takes on the role of a worker and performs the day-to-day specifics of their job in an economy that does not yet exist in the real world, but may exist in the future. He argues that when playing video games, ‘players are subjectivated by a process that encompasses them and demands that they interact with the game in a certain way lest they fail immediately,’ and in his case study for potential labor, VA-11 HALL-A (2016), that ‘[players] become subjects whose entire relationship to the world is determined by the interface we use and how it asks us to labor.’ I think that Sburb is demanding a similar kind of labor from its players, and that this framework is helpful for answering John Egbert’s question of ‘to what end?’

[a short one – only 2.2k words]

Metaphorically, Sburb is the Y2K problem. It’s the computer glitch that destabilizes the tenuous structure of the modern world we’ve built. In its main storyline, Sburb destroys planet Earth, which is ‘done for’ and cannot be saved. It transports the player to ‘The Medium,’ a space outside of time, and kidnaps and holds hostage residents of the player character’s house besides them. Within the Medium, forces of light defend endgame area Skaia and its ‘unlimited creative potential’ while forces of darkness attempt to destroy it. The player, along with their Kernelsprite, begins, influences and participates in a war between these forces. Doing so relies on the three core mechanics described next. The player is encouraged to ally with one of these forces, in John’s case the forces of light – however the forces of light are destined to lose, and the end state or win condition of the game is unknown.

Sburb has three core mechanics. These are 1) to deploy specific machines with the eventual purpose of learning ‘punch card alchemy’, a process that advances out-of-game captchalogue mechanics to create physical items from digital resources [server and client players both contribute to this process], 2) to build a house upwards (or potentially downwards) from limited resources and likely while obeying the general laws of physics in order to reach further game areas [server player is responsible for this process] and 3) to use the out of game skills of captchalogue decks and strife specibi to kill various enemies in order to obtain resources for the above processes and advance the player’s abilities and levels [client player is responsible for this process]. These three mechanics can be shorthanded as Alchemize, Build and Kill.

The genre of Sburb is highly debatable, as genres often are, but I believe it contains elements of both fantasy and science fiction. A player character entering a world unlike their own, filled with magical kingdoms and wars between good and evil, certainly reads as fantasy. However, a player character witnessing an apocalyptic event on Earth and using technology to escape the planet and to become one of a few representatives for their species, is more classically science fiction. Currently, I see the set dressing and surface message of Sburb’s story as closer to fantasy, while the deeper themes and questions the game asks are closer to science fiction. The game is currently essential to the future of humanity, or positions itself as such, and consequently is asking players to think about what that future might look like.

A huge unanswered question about Sburb is who designed the game, and why. While creators cannot directly control how a player will interact with their game or what type of person they will become from playing it, but they often have a goal in mind – an ideal player, and an ideal playthrough – that can be inferred from the game’s design. For example, original Dungeons & Dragons (1974) imagines a player who will solve conflict through violence and define their player character exclusively through numerically-based abilities. A player can instead use the game to roleplay as a medieval fantasy character, acting out how they might ‘realistically’ behave and respond to situations and placing their mechanical abilities within the framework of modern human psychology. This style of play is popular enough that it has been somewhat accounted for in later editions of the game, but does not exist in the original text.

So, who is this ideal Sburb player imagined by the unknown developer? Like in D&D, this player is somebody who overcomes problems and obstructions through violence and is rewarded with additional power and resources - a core mechanic of games throughout history, such as chess (1475), where a player can capture and remove the other player’s piece from the game board to secure an advantage for themself. This player is also someone who performs physical and material labor via a digital interface and purely mental exertion, which is already an increasingly important skill in the age of automation. Finally, this player is someone who has access to – in my interpretation of punch card alchemy, which hasn’t yet been explored in depth – technological power so advanced that it presents as magic.

Sburb's radical moves to change human existence mean that the 'potential labor' discussed above could become the real practice of labor in whatever is next for humanity after completing the game. In time, the Sburb player will probably be guided as to when and how to use these powers. But who benefits from giving people these capabilities? The game’s developers must either be extremely clever or extremely reckless, either placing strict restrictions on what players can accomplish with punch card alchemy and planning contingencies in case of cheat codes and bugs, or have failed to consider the possible consequences entirely.

Releasing this game is high risk, high reward. There is a chance that players will take the very real skills they have learned inside the game and use them to turn against the creators who are ultimately responsible for Earth’s destruction – but if the game works as intended, then its story of light vs dark, the role it places the player in with respect to these forces, and the ways it encourages players to use their alchemize, build and kill skills should shape the player into somebody who would not make that choice.

Another unanswered question is the nature of the Ultimate Riddle, the purpose that the player character is designed to fulfil in the game. I have two possible predictions as to both the nature of Sburb’s developers, and where the main storyline of Sburb will end. Both of these are based on movie posters found on John’s bedroom wall – existing works of science fiction that are known to have at least a small influence on Homestuck.

The first relates to Deep Impact (1998), and to the story of Noah’s Ark from Islamic, Jewish and Christian scripture. In these stories, an apocalyptic event destroys the majority of life on earth, except for a subset of humanity who are pre-selected by controlling forces due to their useful skills and/or strong moral character. These forces are then tasked with rebuilding the earth following the fallout of the apocalyptic event. In Deep Impact, the worst of the event is avoided at the last minute, but this is the situation being prepared for.

In this reading, Sburb may have been developed by a religious or political cult who are either playing God, or believe they are receiving messages from a higher power, intentionally causing a rapture-like event in order to reset humanity. Players are not pre-selected, instead, the game itself acts as a selection mechanism. The best video game players are believed to be the people who will most successfully rebuild the earth from scratch. These players will need building skills to create physical structures and civilizations, fighting skills to hunt for food and defend themselves from external threats, and alchemy skills (which likely draw upon the creative potential of Skaia) to create tools and machines, thereby developing faster than humanity did in its previous incarnation.

Here the Incipisphere functions as the ark itself – the thing protecting players from the conditions outside. Players stay here until they have completed the game and until the world has calmed from meteor impacts and is safe for humans once more. Due to the atemporaility of the Incipisphere, these two events will automatically sync, no matter the relative amount of time that they take. It’s possible that these things happen ‘years in the future, but not many,’ as the wasteland and Sburb technology in these sections of Homestuck suggest that these scenes could take place on Earth. It is also possible that the Wayward Vagabond has somehow escaped the game early, and arrived on Earth at a time before it is ready to rebuild.

The second prediction relates to Contact (1997), among other stories of alien and intergalactic societies. In this excellent movie, a scientist identifies transmissions that come from intelligent life elsewhere in the universe – a species which has identified humanity as ready for their first interstellar contact. Through decoding these transmissions, the scientist uncovers instructions for directly communicating with these aliens and advancing further towards entering intergalactic society.

In this reading, a species from beyond Earth, likely one who has already tapped into the creative potential of Skaia via their own technology, has provided humanity with the instructions for developing Sburb. The team of scientists and/or video game developers who decoded the instructions may not have known that the game would cause an apocalyptic event, but the aliens transmitting the message certainly did. By including the alchemy and digital building mechanics, this species has given humanity a way to speedrun technological advancement, at the cost of their species’ current home.

I highly doubt that this is a benevolent act, or a random act of violence. A species with access to the capabilities of Sburb wanting to annihilate Earth could do so without the complexity of the game. These aliens clearly want to maintain a small subset of human life, and are using the game to train humans to work for them, fulfilling the roles of builders and soldiers that must be necessary to their society, but that the aliens themselves either do not want to fill or do not have enough people to fill. The aliens have selected gamers as a culture to target, because many gamers are used to adapting to and working within the constraints of a set of rules and an ideological framework that they cannot challenge – a mindset that the aliens are expecting will transfer easily from video games into real life.

In either of these possible readings, the creators of Sburb are both selecting for and trying to constitute a specific type of human. Marketing the game to teenagers could also be part of this strategy, as designers may believe that younger, more impressionable players can be more easily molded to the human who alchemizes, builds and kills. Marketing the game in the United States could also be part of the strategy, as a late capitalist society which defines success through hard work already delivers the same values that Sburb hopes to reinforce.

If all this is true, then Homestuck depicts video games as a medium of limitless capability to reimagine the world, but one that can be easily exploited and used as a mechanism of control. Through John and Rose’s excitement about the game’s possibilities and through the power fantasies of alchemizing something from nothing, building an ideal home via simple button clicks, and overcoming problems through simple combat, Homestuck demonstrates an understanding of why technological advancement presents such a draw to humanity, and how dreams of an easier, more automated life let us get caught up in ideas of what technology makes possible. It is empathetic towards young people’s feelings of optimism and escapism surrounding video games, yet also highlights the dangers in this mindset.

Homestuck tells us that the direct and indirect effects of rapid technological progress can be severe, unpredictable, and lasting. It suggests that we should not deploy new technologies without first understanding what they are capable of and what they can and will be used for. It tells us that many of the forces governing futuristic technologies, such as virtual reality and artificial intelligence, are things we do not yet completely understand. And it reiterates that while there are plenty of people – or forces of light – who would take these technologies and attempt to use them to benefit humanity, there are at least as many forces of darkness who intend to destroy the creative potential of video games, taking their infinite and radical possibility and using them instead to produce soldiers and workers, indoctrinating them into the same values that our society already prizes.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Oooh! Hi!!

How are you?

I saw your 1.5k celebration post. First of all: congratulations!!! You're doing amazing!

I'd like to ask Romcom with Wally West. My idea would be something like going on a date and kissing under the rain or something similar.

Thank you in advance and take care! 🌼🌿

thank you sweetie! i hope i did okay since this is my first official post of wally west (i miss him so much in the yj universe😫) fem!reader (1.5k celebration)

for your six month anniversary, wally decided to take both of you to an arcade he used to visit frequently when he was younger. there was a mix of games from the nineties to most recent, there was a small bowling area tucked away in one corner and a snack booth in another.

“just one more try. i can feel it,” wally was hunched over a joystick attached to a claw machine trying to win you a stuffed bunny. it’s been fifteen minutes and this was his seventh try.

you stood behind him with your palms caressing his waist under his flannel, “love it’s alright. i have plenty of plushies from previous dates.” moving to rest your chin on his shoulder as you eyed the slow move of the flimsy silver claw.

“but this would be special since it’s our anniversary. could write the date on its tag so you’ll always be reminded.” he leaned in closer, you worried his eye sight might fail with all this squinting. “plus i… almost… got-“ the bunny was caged in its grasp and hung shakily in the air. you both held your breath as it was dangling over to drop off, then it was free and a bright you win! sign was lit on display.

“told you!” wally spun around so he could hug you tight around the waist and give you a spin. you squealed in delight with your arms secure along his neck, “wally!”

he set you down after three full turns then remembered to grab the prize. “ma’ lady,” he bowed as he presented the soft pink plushie. it was dressed with a bow tie, you can forgive him for taking awhile.

a palm to his right cheek as you pressed a kiss to the left, “thank you, my love. do you wanna get some milkshakes from down the block?” letting your thumb sweep along his freckled skin.

“absolutely. i’m starving.” him and that fast metabolism.

walking hand in hand down the mostly empty sidewalk there was smile conversation passed between you, wally giving you small updates about how the teams doing and you mentioned to him about a cousins wedding that you were invited to and asked if he wanted to be your plus one.

“of course. gotta let everyone know that you’re a taken gal. plus i wanna see you all pretty and sparkly.” his own lips on your cheek as you waited for the crossing light to change.

and then there was a loud rumbling soon followed by a bright light. “no way,” you heard wally mutter. and then heavy, fast rain from the sky descended upon you both. you were drenched within two minutes.

“let’s get-“ “wait.” you stopped wally from pulling you in the direction of dry cover. you smiled with your eyes closed up at the darkened clouds, a joyous feeling growing in your chest.

“baby, we gotta get inside.” wally sounded concerned and that was a rare emotion to appear. “you were sick for a week last month, your immune system needs more rest.”

“i know, worry wart. but-“ you looked at him with a giddiness settling in your pupils, “since it’s our anniversary i have one request that you can’t say no to.”

“if it’ll get us out the rain, absolutely.”

that made you grin cheekily, “can we have a romcom movie kiss in the rain? please? i’ve always wanted one. be the best boyfriend ever and grant me this one lifelong wish.” trying to bat your lashes as a flourish.

wally rolled his eyes put then led the both of you into the pouring rain, the fast raindrops smacking at your head. “bet we’ll get sick.” “oh, you’ll be fine mister speedster.”

wally rested his hands to your hips and you cupped his cheeks with the biggest grin on your face, “happy anniversary.” you practically shouted to be heard over the pounding.

you felt wally squeeze your hips and then he leaned his head to yours. your slippery lips meshed together, the thunder noises drowned out as you let yourself get swept away in the special way only wally west can make you feel.

after a good moment of indulgence wally was the first to pull away, “can we go inside now? you’re starting to feel like killer frost.”

[stellar-solar-flare]

🧥 warm coat: share a happy or fuzzy scene from your wip!

-Zombie

Sorry about the delayed response @thezombieprostitute, and thank you for sending the ask. October-themed writeblr ask game.

This one is a sneak peek from the upcoming (and final) chapter of A Fairytale Of A Disaster; slight spoilers below. Unedited. No warnings, unless you count idiots falling for each other head over heels as a warning.

“Steve…” you whispered, licking your lips.

The doorbell rang, making both of you almost jump.

Steve tore his eyes off you, clearing his throat as pink was staining his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, just, give me a second,” he said, already spinning on his heel to stride to the door.

Whatever it was that caused someone to physically come meet Captain America at this hour on a holiday probably wasn’t something that you should be eavesdropping on. So you used the moment to pour the batter into the greased dish and stick it to the oven, letting the clangs of metal and the beeps of the timer you set cover the conversation at the door. And of course, you weren’t going to deny yourself the simple joy of tasting the batter off the spatula you’d used to scrape the bowl. Delicious, just like you’d thought — thick and wonderfully chocolate-y.

Focused on your task, you didn’t hear Steve’s steps until he was back to standing almost next to you. He cleared his throat in a way that called for your attention, and you spun to your right, the spatula still in your left hand.

Your heart skipped a beat. And then another.

Roses.

Steve was standing there with a huge bouquet of them on his arm; he’d peeled off the paper that had sheltered them during transport and with only the thin cellophane wrapped around the stems, you could easily see how beautiful the flowers were. In full bloom, under the bright lights of the kitchen, their scarlet red color looked so wonderfully brilliant that for a moment, all you could do was stare and feel your heart swell in your chest. No one had ever.

“I thought…” Steve murmured, just a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I felt bad for showing up to a first date without the flowers, and I wondered if the red is a little too much but they match your dress. There are a few 24/7 delivery systems here on AI Campus. I hope —“

“Steve,” you cut him off, your voice thick. “They’re wonderful. Beautiful. Thank you.”

[clown-friend-gt]

Pecking Order (Old Version)

More superhero stuff! I wanted to introduce a new character, Wren, who is one of Trevor's best friends besides Addie.

For a bit of background on this one, both Trevor and Wren are in what's called "Corrective Custody," which is basically juvie for teens with superpowers. Trevor is there because he accidently hurt a classmate with his newfound strength, and Wren is there because they have a tendency to get in fights, which only got worse after they got their powers.

Inmates in Corrective Custody can have their time reduced by joining the Future Heroes Training Program, which both Trevor and Wren end up doing later on in the story.

Edit: This is the old version of what is now chapter 12 of my story "Up, Up, and Away." I'm leaving it up just cause, but it's no longer canon. You can read the new version here! (although you should read the chapters that come before as well)

************************************************************************

“Time for fresh air,” a voice called over the P.A. system.

There was a short, harsh buzz as the light above the cell door switched from red to green. The door slid open. Wren tore their gaze away from the ceiling to glance that way, before sitting up and swinging their legs off of the bed. They regarded the door for a moment, trying to decide if they wanted to go outside or not. Before they could make up their mind, one of the guards dressed in white popped their head in the door.

“C’mon newbie. Time to get outside for a bit.”

Wren regarded them disdainfully for a moment before replying.

“Do I have to?” they asked.

“No, but I promise you it’ll be more interesting than sitting here staring off into space,” the guard replied.

After mulling it over, Wren shrugged and got to their feet. They walked past the guard and joined the other “troubled youths” filing out of their cells. They were all led down the halls until they eventually came to a set of double doors. The group crowded around them until a guard pushed their way to the front and unlocked the doors with a key card, letting the restless inmates push their way out themselves.

As they crossed the threshold, Wren squinted at the sudden change in lighting before their eyes adjusted. They followed the flow of the crowd out into the yard, then wandered off to stand on their own.

They looked around at the area they now found themselves in. It was a grassy field about half of the size of a football field. There were a couple of benches strewn about that were quickly claimed by various groups. To one side, there was a small basketball court where a game was starting up. Sidewalks bordered the court, field, and the side of the building. The entire area was enclosed with a tall fence topped with barbed wire.

Wren felt the tell-tale feeling of people staring at them. They scanned the yard to find the source and found several. Some people quickly looked away when Wren met their gaze, some just stared them down. Some wannabe tough guys even sneered when their eyes met, and Wren had to fight the urge to roll their eyes.

Looks like I won’t have to look too hard to find trouble, Wren thought to themselves. They began to try and come up with a plan to establish themselves so that the others would know to leave them alone. Their attention was quickly stolen, however, when they felt a familiar prickling sensation at their fingertips.

Looking down at their hands, Wren could see a light frost beginning to cover their fingertips, typically a sign that their powers were active. Their gaze strayed from their fingers to the strange cuffs strapped to their wrists. The little light had switched from yellow to green without them noticing.

Wren considered the fence again. Their powers would make it easier for them to scale it. But then, one of the guards watching them would reactivate their cuffs, right? They had seen them use the devices they kept at their waists to activate them before, so the guards surely had that capability. But then, why turn them off in the first place?

What’s that old trope in prison movies? Wren thought. First thing you do, find the biggest guy, and start a fight so that no one will mess with you? Suddenly all of the eyes on them made more sense. Was that what everyone wanted to see?

Wren wasn’t really one to start fights, but ever since they got their powers, they had no problem finishing them. That was what had landed them in special custody, after all. But that was against a bunch of stuck-up losers with no powers, could they really hold their own against other people like them?

Best plan I’ve got right now, they thought to themselves, scanning the yard again. They looked past the posers glaring at them to pick their target. Their gaze landed on a boy laying back in the grass, basking in the sunlight. He was at least twice the size of a grown man, if not more. Besides that, there wasn’t anything particularly threatening about him at first glance.

Maybe he’ll be a pushover, a sarcastic voice in their head chimed in. Either way, he looked like their best option right now. They marched over, letting more of their power flow into their hands to prepare for the fight to come.

Trevor lay out in the sun like he always did. The warm sunlight helped to ease the aching of his growing pains somewhat. It was a nice, warm day that day, and if no one came to bother him, it might turn out to be a good day. But soon after he closed his eyes, it became clear that wouldn’t be the case.

A shadow crossed his face and the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. He kept his eyes shut and pretended not to notice. Maybe they’d leave him be.

“Hey, ugly!”

Suppressing a groan, Trevor opened his eyes. Someone was standing over him, blocking the sunlight on his face. At this angle, with the sun directly behind them, he couldn’t make out who it was, or whether it was someone who tried to pick a fight with him before.

He sat up, ignoring the way his ever-stretching muscles ached in protest, and turned to face the newcomer. It was someone he didn’t recognize, with white hair that turned brown at the roots and pale skin. They glowered at him with deep brown eyes. He couldn’t tell if they were a boy or a girl.

He knew how this would likely play out, but he held out hope that he could be wrong. Maybe this person just had really, really bad social skills.

“What did you just say to me?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

Meanwhile, Wren stood stiff as a board. They weren’t short by any means, but this guy was taller than they were, and he hadn’t even stood up yet. Nevertheless, they couldn’t back down now. They stood their ground.

“You heard me,” they responded cooly.

Trevor sighed and slowly got to his feet. He watched the new person’s head tilt back as they stubbornly held eye contact. They stood like that for a minute, a silent standoff going on between the two.

Then Trevor promptly turned around and walked away as hastily as he could, trying to escape the situation.

Without thinking, Wren shot a beam of ice from their hands. In the blink of an eye, a cluster of ice sprang from the ground at Trevor’s feet, surrounding them and holding him where he stood. Wren glanced nervously at the nearby guards, but they, like everyone else, were simply watching the show.

Wren didn’t get much time to think about that fact before their focus was drawn back to the sound of ice crackling. With a grunt, Trevor pried one foot from the ice, then the other. Wren’s eyes widened. They’d ended plenty of fights that way. They’d never seen anyone aside from a professional superhero break free of it.

Trevor turned to face them again, his gaze a little harder this time. Wren crouched into their best fighting stance. One hand extended in a fist before them, the other cocked back, shaped into a claw and surrounded by the cool mist that accompanied the use of their powers.

Trevor rushed forward faster than Wren expected him to, grabbing their fist in his hand and engulfing it. As Wren briefly struggled against his iron grip, he closed their other hand within his grasp. He had them trapped.

What’s this guy trying to do, crush my hands? Wren thoughts raced. Thinking quickly, they focused as much of their power as they could into their hands, trying to get them freezing cold. If they could get their hands cold enough, he should be forced to let go.

Trevor gritted his teeth but didn’t relent, his grip tightening slightly. His gaze was intense, and Wren barely kept themselves from breaking eye contact.

Wren began to panic as they felt his grip tighten; their emotions began to make their control falter as the air began to freeze around them.

Suddenly, a voice yelled, “CASTILLO! HANDS OFF!”

Trevor let go immediately, backing up and raising his hands above his head to show he wasn’t resisting. Wren stumbled forward slightly when he let go, but quickly righted themselves. The lights on their cuffs flashed red, and began to stick together like they were magnetized, just like they had when Wren first got them. Looking at their opponent, they could see his cuffs had done the same.

A few guards headed over to make sure the fight was really broken up. One pulled a walkie-talkie from their waist to report the situation.

“Director, we have a fight in the yard,” they said into the walkie.

You’re just telling them this now? Wren wondered.

“Copy that. Status?” a voice on the other end said.

“Two detainees, subdued,” the guard replied.

“Roger. Bring them here.”

The guard put the radio back on their belt and turned to the two.

“You two. Main office. Now.”

Wren rolled their eyes. Trevor trudged off ahead of them towards the doors inside, seeming to know the way by heart. The guard with the radio turned to follow, and a second guard pulled Wren by the arm to join when they lingered behind for a second too long.

Trevor had to bend over to get through the doors, then straightened out once he was inside the hall with taller ceilings. His irritated pace quickly put him ahead of the others, who had to do an awkward half-jog to keep up. After a few hallways and a few more turns, they all arrived at their destination.

At the end of the hall stood a door with a placard on it. Near the door were two chairs, like the kind you’d see outside of a high school principal’s office. Trevor slumped against the wall, coming to sit next to the chairs that were too small for him.

“You two wait here,” one guard told them, before they both filed into the office. As the door shut behind them, Wren stepped closer to inspect the placard.

“Director Douglas” it read.

Wren idled by the door for a few more awkward seconds, then chose to sit in the chair closest to the door, and farthest from Trevor.

A little more time passed, and Wren began to regard the cuffs on their wrists. Then, they looked at Trevor with a bit of curiosity. Other than keeping his wrists stuck together, his cuffs didn’t seem to be affecting him much.

“Does that turn off?” They asked him.

He didn’t answer for a second, but then he shot them a look from the corner of his eye. “Does what turn off?”

“Your, uh,” they looked him up and down, “power.”

Trevor didn’t answer for a moment.

“Nope,” he looked back towards the wall. “I’m stuck like this.”

“Is that a power?” Wren wondered aloud, “Just—being a giant?”

He simply shrugged. Then, after a bit, he spoke up, “Technically, my power is that I’m always growing, just really slowly.”

Wren stared, trying to see if they could spot this change he was claiming. When they couldn’t tell any difference, they asked, “Really?”

“Yes,” he replied shortly.

“Always?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Even with the cuffs on?”

“Yes,” he grumbled.

Wren thought for a moment. “Wouldn't that hurt?”

Trevor was briefly caught of guard.

“Yeah. It does," he muttered under his breath.

“…I’m sorry,” Wren said.

“Now you’re sorry?” He snapped, finally meeting their eyes again.

Wren looked away, somewhat ashamed. More time passed in silence. Finally, Trevor broke it again.

“Are your hands okay?” He asked.

“What? Uh…” Wren looked down at their hands. Other than the frost slowly melting off of them, they were fine. “…Yeah?”

Trevor gave a curt nod, seeming to relax slightly. “Good. I worried—” he cut himself off. “Never mind.”

“You were worried?” Wren snorted. “About what, hurting me? Do you know what the point of a fight is?”

Trevor scowled. “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be a lot worse off than you are now. I just wanted to stop you.”

“…Oh,” Wren said quietly.

What is this dude’s deal? Wren wondered to themselves. They didn’t know whether to be scared of this guy or to feel sorry for him.

Eventually, they decided they should at least return the favor. “Are your hands okay?”

“What? Oh…” he trailed off, inspecting his hands.

He tried to wiggle them around so he could look at his palms, which had a weird cold-burning feeling. The cuffs stopped him from moving too much, so he pulled against them with all of his might. They separated, and he flipped his hands over, so when the cuffs snapped back together, his palms were up.

Trevor continued his inspection, oblivious to Wren’s shock at his casual display of strength.

His palms still had patches of ice here and there from where Wren’s hands had touched his. Underneath, those spots, the skin was red and slightly swollen. He looked up at Wren again.

“I don’t know.”

“Let me see?” Wren reached out to grab Trevor’s hand, and, when he hesitated, they added, “I can’t use my powers right now, don’t worry.”

Looking at his hands with concern, Wren said, “Huh. Looks like it could be frostbite.”

“You’ve seen it before?” Trevor asked. Wren looked at him as if to say ‘duh.’

Trevor swallowed. “Right.”

Wren let out a deep sigh and let his hands go.

“Man I’m—I’m sorry. About earlier. I don’t know what I was trying to prove.”

Trevor shrugged. “I get it. You come here, you want to seem tough, so you go for the big guy, right?”

Wren cringed at how cliché it sounded out loud. “I mean, when you say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid.”

“Yeah well, you seem sorry enough, I guess, so, apology accepted.”

“Thanks,” Wren replied with a slight grimace.

Before they could start sitting in silence again, Wren piped up.

“I’m Wren, by the way.”

“Trevor,” he replied.

Trevor seemed perfectly content to sit in silence, but Wren couldn’t help but to try and fill it.

“Hey,” Wren said, to keep the conversation going, “How did you do that thing earlier? With your cuffs?” As if to demonstrate, they tried to pull their own cuffs apart, to no avail.

“Oh this?” With some effort, Trevor pulled his cuffs apart again to flip his hands back over to the way they were before. “Yeah, something about the cuffs’ ‘limited ability to maintain control over supplementary abilities,’ whatever that means.”

He did his best air quotes, which was tricky with the cuffs on.

“Basically, I’m naturally a lot stronger than the average person, so even with the cuffs on, that doesn’t fully go away.” He finished with a frown.

Wren nodded along to his explanation. “Cool,” They added at the end, not picking up on his slight shift in mood.

After that, Wren ran out of things to talk about, so they let silence fill the air again. Trevor did his best to try and keep his hands warm while they waited. Finally, they were called into the office.

The director, a middle-aged white man, chewed them out for a bit, lecturing them both on “maintaining the peace” and their “special responsibilities” and so forth. Wren rolled their eyes as much as possible to show their displeasure. At the end, they were both given a week without time outside, during which their cuffs would remain on ‘red mode’ as much as possible.

“But that’s not fair,” Wren protested. “I started it, and Trevor barely fought back.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Director Douglas stated. “At this Juvenile Special Detention Center we have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to fighting.”

Trevor sighed, expecting this outcome.

************************************************************************

During that next week, Wren didn’t see Trevor much. They had to see the nurse to confirm that like they said, they weren’t hurt. Then they had to visit a counselor to talk about feelings and shit. Not their thing. Much to Wren’s indignation, they still had to attend some classes while they were imprisoned to “maintain a standard of education.” Between all of that, they began to lose hope of seeing someone they actually got along with.

To close out their punishment, the same counselor from before had the two meet up and make up, which was easy since they had already done some of the apologizing. Didn’t make it any less awkward, though. Then they were free to go. Well, as free as they could be here.

Their second time out in the yard began like their first. They trailed out with the crowd, then made their own way out into the field. On a whim, they decided to look for Trevor. Spotting him laying down away from everyone again, they began to make their way over.

As they passed by a bench full of people, someone grabbed their shoulder to stop them. Flipping around, they were met by a sneering face.

“Going somewhere, new blood?” the guy asked.

Wren wrested their shoulder from his grasp. He was about their height with straight black hair. His right wrist was in a cast. They snorted at him.

“Why yes, prison extra number two, I was. Got any more cliché lines of dialogue to spit at me first?”

Someone on the bench, presumably the other guy’s friend, snickered at that, but stopped when the person in front of Wren glared at them.

Turning back to them, he said, “There’s an order to things, around here. And we need to figure out where you stand.”

Wren raised their eyebrows, unimpressed. “Is this really necessary?”

The guy gave them a wicked grin. “I’m afraid so, snowflake.”

That pissed Wren off. They squared their shoulders, doing their best tough guy imitation.

The other guy formed his non-broken hand into a claw, and electricity began to spark from his fingertips.

Their mind began to kick into high gear for the upcoming fight. But before they got too far with their strategizing, a shadow was cast over the kid’s face.

“Will,” a tired-sounding voice came from over Wren’s head. “Can’t you lay off for once?”

Looking up, Will grew tense, then he scowled. “Back off, Castillo. It’s not your fight.”

“How’s your wrist?” Trevor sounded calm, but his voice had an edge to it. All eyes seemed to gravitate towards the cast on Will’s arm.

Will tried to hold Trevor’s gaze, but he backed down soon enough. The sparks coming from his hand died off slowly.

“This isn’t over,” he said to Wren, then turned around sharply to join his friends over on the bench.

Wren turned to face Trevor, but he had already started to wander off. They worried that now that the fight was off, he was done with them. But after a few steps, he turned back and hesitantly asked, “You coming?”

Wren grinned and followed him over to his spot in the grass. They sat next to him as he laid out in the sun, chattering about skateboarding and movies they liked and nothing in particular. Trevor nodded along as they talked. Finally, it seemed, he got one good day.

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader

masterlist | previous | next chapter

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - COMPANIONSHIP AND LATE NIGHT CONFESSIONS.

The night air in London held a hint of chill, and the city's streets buzzed with the energy of a typical Friday evening. Inside the cozy confines of their flat, Marc Spector stood by the window, looking out at the cityscape that stretched before him. He was deep in thought, replaying the game plan for the night ahead in his mind. It was the night of the congratulatory party for the British Museum tour guides at the local pub in celebration of the successful Ennead exhibit opening. Steven Grant’s fellow tour guides, Aleah, and Mira, were gathering there, and Marc couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Beside him and reflected in the nearby dress mirror, Steven Grant was going through his own preparations inside their shared headspace. After surrendering control to his British alter, Steven finally stepped forward and stood before the full-length mirror in their shared bedroom. A look of concentration was displayed on his face as he deliberated over his outfit for the evening. The two men shared a unique existence within the same body, and tonight, they had to ensure their charade remained intact. It was a delicate dance, a masquerade of identity.

"Remember, Steven," Marc said, his voice echoing within their shared headspace. "We've got to stick to the plan tonight. Recap everything to me, from the top”

“Our aunt’s sick for tonight”, Steven started, opening his closet to go through their newer wardrobe. 

“Correct. And?” Marc urged, prompting Steven to recite the next set of alibi they came up with.

“I will be going early to tend to her in your stead”, Steven nodded, his brow furrowing as he further contemplated his clothing choices.

“That’s right. And after that?” Marc gestured once more as his hands circled, urging Steven to go on. 

“You will be coming after I leave. To keep her company”, Steven finishes, his mind settling on a checkered navy blue blue collared dress shirt, which he paired with a chocolate brown sweater and gray chino pants.

“Very good, Steven”, Marc nodded approvingly of Steven’s commitment to their ‘twin brothers’ charade. “Let’s get going"

Steven nodded, finally placing Marc's own clothing—a gray hoodie, denim jacket, and blue jeans—neatly arranged and placed in his backpack for the switch later in the evening.

With their preparations complete, they left their flat and made their way to the local pub located within the vicinity of London's bustling streets. The pub, known as Philomena's, was a popular spot among the museum staff. It was an inviting place, with dim lighting, wooden interiors, and the comforting hum of conversation filling the air.

As Steven entered the pub, he was greeted by the warm smiles of his fellow tour guides who were patiently waiting inside. Aleah, with her ebony black hair cascading down her shoulders, was the first to spot him. She waved him over and said, "Steven, you're looking sharp tonight."

Steven smiled politely and replied, "Thanks, Aleah. Where’s Mira?”

“She just went to the loo to touch up”, Aleah nodded in understanding and gestured towards the others. "We've been waiting for you, everyone's excited to celebrate."

Just as Steven was about to engage in further conversation, Aleah exclaimed, "Speak of the devil, Mira, we’re over here!" She waved happily at the direction of the restroom doors, and everyone turned their attention to the recent newcomer.

You finally made your presence known as you entered the pub, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. All eyes were on you as you made your entrance. The latest change in your wardrobe choices has not gone unnoticed. You had opted for a one-shoulder black tank top that showcased your graceful neckline, white pull-on trousers that accentuated your long legs, and black leather sandals that gave a hint of sophistication. Your hair was tied in a high ponytail, emphasizing the elegant beauty of your facade even more.

Steven and Marc couldn't help but be awestruck by your presence along with the rest of your company. You were a vision of confidence and allure, and your transformation left everyone momentarily speechless.

"Wow, Mira!" Aleah breathed out, breaking the silence. "You look very stunning."

"Thanks, Aleah”, a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks as you approached the group. “You look lovely tonight as well."

The compliments continued to flow from the rest of your companions, and you gracefully accepted them, your smile never faltering. Steven marveled at how effortlessly you moved through the attention, and it occurred to him that you were the perfect foil for their charade.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Mira”, Steven couldn’t help but say, eliciting a sweet chuckle from your end.

“You look so dashing yourself, Steven”, Mira smiled knowingly, her eyes searching at the back of Steven’s figure, expecting to see his twin brother. “Where’s Marc?”

With everyone now present, Steven felt the need to address their situation. He leaned in closer to you and spoke in a hushed tone, "That’s actually the thing, Mira. I’m afraid I need to leave a bit early tonight. Got to tend to our sick aunt at home."

You looked concerned, your brow furrowing slightly. "Oh, I hope she's okay. Of course, go take care of her. I’m assuming Marc will be keeping me company later, yes?"

“That’s right. He looks forward to making it up to you”, Steven nodded appreciatively, while Marc heartily agrees within their shared thoughts. "Thanks for understanding. Let's not spoil the celebration, shall we?"

“Yes, we shall”, you smiled warmly, and with that, the mood lightened as you gestured to the bartender next. The group settled around a large table, and you took the initiative to order the first round of ale and beer as your welcome treat to everyone.

As the night progressed, laughter and lively chatter filled the air. Tales of the morning's successful tours were exchanged, and the atmosphere brimmed with a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie. Everyone was especially cheering for Steven and Sarah, the career shifters of the museum tour guide bunch who had taken a risk and been rewarded handsomely for it.

“To Steven, Sarah and all of you”, you raise your glass to toast your tour guides’ successes, and everybody else follows suit. The clinking of glasses, the merriment, and the shared stories created a tapestry of celebration that enveloped them all. Despite the complexity of their shared existence and the need for secrecy, Marc and Steven found solace in this moment of unity and joy together with you.

As the night wore on, the pub echoed with the harmony of shared laughter and the promise of good times to come. In this ephemeral moment, the boundaries of their individual selves blurred, and they were simply a group of people, sharing a drink, celebrating their achievements, and cherishing the bonds of friendship that held them together.

As the hours passed and the clock struck an hour before midnight, the numbers of tourists and locals alike in the pub began to dwindle. Your tour guide co-workers wished you and your fellow colleagues good night to embark on their respective weekends. Steven had also wished you a good night, promising that his twin brother will soon be here to join you and Aleah. 

The evening had cast its gentle, amber glow over the city of London as Steven Grant made his exit from Philomena’s, venturing forth into the bustling streets. The cool breeze carried with it the whispers of autumn, a gentle reminder that change was inevitable, even for a man as enigmatic as him. 

“Good luck, mate”, Steven whispered to himself, wishing his American alter the best of luck as he finally surrendered control of their body to Marc Spector. It was a seamless transition - one that they are both used to by now.

After his British counterpart’s quick escape from the pub, Marc made his way to the nearby hotel where he would change his own clothes for the night. With each step that he took, the anticipation gnawed at him, coiling tightly around his heart. He knew what awaited him, who awaited him, and the realization sent shivers down his spine.

In the lobby, he swiftly changed out of Steven’s attire that he had worn for tonight and into his own casual clothes - a simple grey hoodie, denim jacket and blue jeans. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his collar, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The weight of anticipation bore down on him, a sinking feeling that threatened to pull him under. Marc had no choice but to face this moment head-on, to confront the woman who had captured his heart. 

As he made his way back towards the pub, his own nerves threatened to betray him. Marc knew that he couldn't afford to appear anxious or uncertain. He needed to be the Marc Spector that Mira Batala-Carter remembered, the confident and charismatic man who had once been her close confidant back on their last meeting.

You watched as the last stragglers bid their farewells inside the pub, currently seated on a bar stool at the front of the house. Your secretary, Aleah Santos, was the last of your evening company to be leaving you soon in solitude. The warm glow of the pub's lights illuminated her face, casting soft shadows across her features. She had been with you for years, a loyal companion who had become like family.

"Are you sure you'll be okay getting home on your own, Mira?" Aleah asked, her concern evident in her voice. "I could have Bill pick you up and drop you off."

"I'll be fine, Aleah”, you smiled at her reassuringly, appreciating her concern. “You don't need to trouble Bill, it’s the weekend for God’s sake. Besides, I need some time to myself tonight."

“Just be careful, okay?” Aleah hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on you as she leaned closer, making sure that only you could hear her next words. "Tonight's the new moon, and as Mayari’s avatar, you will have an especially weak physiology at this time."

“I know that, so stop fussing, okay?” you nodded, understanding the implications of tonight’s moon phase. London could be a different city on nights like these, with shadows and mysteries lurking in every corner. "I'll be cautious, I promise. And if I couldn’t afford to drive home, I’ll stay at the local hotel"

“Sure, you big spender, you”, Aleah chuckled despite her worries, pulling you into a brief embrace. With a final nod and a reluctant smile, she gave in to your wishes. "Alright, then. Take care, Mira. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call."

“Happy weekend, Aleah”, you thanked her, and as she made her way towards the exit, you watched her disappear into the London night. Alone once more, you signaled the bartender for another round of beers, wanting to savor the solitude that allowed you to collect your thoughts.

As you took a sip of your dwindling beer, a sudden interruption startled you. Another hand reached out, snatching the glass away from your grasp. You turned, surprise and a hint of annoyance starting to paint your face, only for that expression to melt away as you locked eyes with the intruder. A familiar American man stood before you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"Y'know, it's not safe to be drinkin' all alone, darling", he chided with a deep, suave Chicago accent that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Always gotta have company”

A wide grin spread across your face, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Marc Spector had returned, and you couldn't contain your joy. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and pulled him into a bone-crushing, tight hug that left him utterly surprised.

"Marc!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine delight. "I can't believe you're here!"

Marc chuckled softly, returning the embrace, the warmth of your body pressing against his. "Surprised, are ya?"

“Are you kidding?”, you shoved, elbowing his torso as you playfully scowled at his direction. “You still fucking owe me coffee that you’ve promised ages ago”

“Sure, sure. My bad!”, Marc doubled over at your light punch to his gut. But he couldn’t help but grin as he saw an identical one growing larger on your facade. “Lemme make it up to you, alright, baby?. How about the next round of beer, on me?”

“Suit yourself, Spector”, you chuckled, blatantly ignoring the endearment that slipped out of Marc’s mouth, feigning ignorance as you started ordering another round of ale and beers. You both settled back into your seats, and Marc couldn't help but smile serenely as he looked more closely at you. It had been far too long since he had allowed himself the pleasure of your company, and now, under the gentle embrace of the London night, he was determined to make the most of it.

The pub's atmosphere seemed to shift as the two of you caught up, the days apart melting away with each shared story and reminiscence. The laughter flowed freely, punctuated by moments of quiet reflection. It was as though time had stopped, and the world outside the pub ceased to exist. For a brief moment, Marc Spector felt like he was home.

"I’m glad to see you again, Mira," Marc began, his voice laced with a touch of nostalgia, "I've missed this. I’ve really missed you."

“I’ve missed you too, Marc”, you smiled, a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes. "It's been too long since we last saw each other, you know. I actually thought you were actively avoiding me or something."

“Touche, you’ve been avoiding her indeed”, Steven couldn’t help but snicker at your comeback from the reflective service of the bar table, prompting Marc to lightly shake his head at his mental twin brother’s quips. “Like a plague, I might add”

“I never meant to do that”, Marc sighed, tentatively placing his palm over yours as he held your right hand, his thumb slowly circling the inside of your soft hands on full display as he meant to soothe your stormy thoughts. “It’s just… I couldn’t really find the time back then, no matter how I tried and how bad I wanted to see you. But I’m here now, right?”

“Yeah, you’re here”, Mira smiled serenely. “I mean, it’s alright if you were really avoiding me before. I know you just came from a divorce, I… I know how hard it is to form a relationship again after so much that has happened to your life.”

Both he and Steven from their shared headspace were silent as they collectively allowed you to voice out your inner thoughts. Allowing you to let them know and vocalize how you truly feel.

“I know how that feels more than anything, Marc”, you continued, mimicking Marc’s earlier actions as your soft fingers traced the inside of his palms, eliciting a soft, almost inaudible sigh of relief and longing to escape his lips. “So you don’t have to explain yourself, okay?”

“Thank you, Mira”, Marc said, the sincerity in his words palpable as his grip tightened on your joined hands, your half-full beer glasses completely forgotten as he got lost in your hazel brown eyes. “You don’t know how much your words mean to me”

His next action surprised you as he brought your joined hands to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand as he looked deeply at you, breathing out his next words softly on your skin.

“With you, Mira”, Marc whispered, never letting go of your soft hand. “I’m willing to try again. No matter how long it might take me”

Steven Grant’s face suddenly popped in the forefront of your mind, prompting your gaze at Marc’s to briefly falter. You remembered all too well how your heart thundered beneath your chest at the intimate moment you shared with his twin brother earlier that day in the quiet confines of the staff room. Your recent recollections briefly lingered to your late husband’s as well, your heart still mourning Darius Carter’s death even though quite a substantial amount of years have already passed. 

But instead of hesitation and doubt populating your entire being, a strange sense of calm and quiet realization hit you in slow waves. He wouldn’t want you to wallow yourself in grief and sorrow forever.

He would’ve wanted you to be able to find happiness.

“I know it’s too fast, I just got divorced, for Christ’s sake”, Marc’s voice briefly pulled you out of your reverie, him mistaking your silence as a refusal as he internally started to panic (to which Steven tried his utmost best to calm him down). “But I can’t really help how I feel. I… shit, I’m usually better than this–”

“Calm down, Marc. I swear, you and Steven are more alike than I thought”, you shook your head lightly as soft laughter escaped your lips. “Believe it or not, you and Steven are very important to me.”

“You’re important to me too, Mira”, Marc nodded, kissing the back of your hand once again as the rest of the evening finally wore on. The pub’s patrons slowly dwindled even further, but the conversations between you and Marc grew more intimate, the shared history between you two a tapestry of emotions and experiences. It was as though you were picking up right where you had left off, despite the short amount of time that had actually passed.

As the clock neared midnight, the city of London outside the pub seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the arrival of the new moon. But inside, in the warm embrace of the pub, you and Marc found solace in each other's company, a reunion that felt like destiny had intervened to bring you together once more.

END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

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[worlddaikokonat]

For anyone looking for a new rhythm game and/or a game with canon yuri to play, the game World Dai Star: Yume no Stellarium is currently celebrating it's 0.5th anniversary with a new main story chapter, a festival banner and reruns of previous banners.

World Dai Star is a mixed media theatre girls franchise whose main entries are the anime of the same title and the mobile rhythm game. It features both original songs and cover songs such as Stellar Stellar, Phony, Snow Halation, Ano Natsu ga Houwa Suru, Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous and more.

It's set in a world which had a huge theatre boom in the middle of the 20th century, which resulted in the field of theatre acting becoming so crowded that some people developed mutations which gave them acting superpowers called 'Senses', which can range from increased athletic ability to mind reading to de-aging while on stage. The very best actors are classed as World Dai Stars, with only a small number of people worldwide claiming the title.

The anime follows a girl named Otori Kokona as she joins the theatre troupe 'Sirius' and starts her journey towards becoming a World Dai Star. Kokona has been repeatedly rejected during auditions as they say she lacks a Sense, however she has her best friend Shizuka supporting her in her dreams no matter what. As it turns out though, no one else can see or hear Shizuka. As the show progresses Shizuka becomes visible to others and it's revealed that she's actually Kokona's Sense and although many mysteries remain around her, with her help Kokona's acting starts to shine.

World Dai Star: Yume no Stellarium is a direct sequel to the anime which continues to follow Kokona and the rest of Sirius while introducing three new troupes, Eden, Gingaza and Gekidan Denki.

Eden is a subversive troupe led by the young lesbian genius Renjakuno Hatsumi, which creates unique plays with controversial subject matters and has a dangerous reputation with the more mainstream troupes in the area. Bar Hatsumi, whose Sense allows her to suppress other's Senses, all members of the troupe have Senses which can act as double edged swords.

Gingaza is one of largest and most prestigious theatre companies in Tokyo and scouts for actors internationally. The environment at the beginning of the game is both hyper competitive and unfriendly and the members rarely befriend each other, but that begins to change when Ramona Wolf arrives from Germany.

Gekidan Denki is a troupe which focuses on 2.5D performances such as anime adaptations. They are a relatively easygoing troupe made up of various kinds of otaku and their dedicated fans are very enthusiastic. However, due to changes in the economy of Akibahara the troupe isn't as profitable as it used to be, and the threat of closure is often hovering above their heads. The story starts when a cosplaying anime otaku named Iroha, who quit acting when she was young because she has no Sense, joins the troupe with her best friend Mito.

The rhythm game aspect has been praised for it's three finger Olivier charts and high level of user customisation, which you can see in the linked video and read more about in the English language fan guide. It uses a system called Star Acts for it's scoring system. The team building and score increasing aspects are more in depth than most rhythm games and are considered one of the major draws of the games for people who like meta aspects.

The card art is always high quality and in particular often has excellent lighting.

The original songs are also highly praised, and the game has many covers like the ones mentioned above and ANIMA, Turing Love, Fleeting Lullaby and Hide and Seek. You can see three different difficulty levels with three different songs in the videos below.

In addition to the rhythm game section, there are also 3DMVs with customisable cast members and outfits and Photo Spots where you can dress members up and take photos of them in daily life situations. There are also 3DMVs of plays such as The Phantom of the Opera in the game, which have scripts written by a professional playwright.

For the yuri, there's a lot of potential pairings who openly flirt with each other, but more explicitly Renjakuno Hatsumi is gay and is in an open relationship with Lilja Kurtbay of Gingaza (first pic below). She cruises around town in her car hitting on girls on most days and regularly goes on dates with the girls she picks up. She's hit on most of the girls in the cast at this point and about a third of them like it. Also, the most loved up pair in the game are Senju Iroha and Shiromaru Mito (second pic below), and the official Twitter account of the game liked a post of rainbow flags replying to one of the Iroha/Mito 1komas that they posted.

(There's also this from the anime.)

Since the 0.5th anniversary banners and events are ongoing it's a good time to start the game, you can download it through QooApp. The game was laggy for Android on release and the reviews reflect that, but the issue was fixed in the first month and it now runs smoothly. All of the main story chapters, all of the key story events and some other events are translated to English, link is below.

[accio-victuuri]

excerpts from this article made by the styling director (Zhao Yige) of One and Only “The styling analysis of OnO is finally here!”

When I received the script, I also received an extremely detailed biography, which covered the personality traits and growth experiences of all the characters. Street dance is a field that I have never explored before. Seeing the mental journey of these characters, I feel like I have got a key, opening up the imagination of each character in an orderly manner. In the early preparations, my team and I did a lot of desk work, checked many videos of hip-hop competitions, movies, variety shows, etc., and also visited some domestic B-boy dancers for in-depth understanding. I also found Liao Bo, the host of the hip-hop competition, and learned about some hip-hop competition formats, rules and dress requirements for different dance types, etc., and cleared up many conceptual misunderstandings. I am very grateful for his help.

The styling plan for this film is divided into two layers: life and dreams.

The life part is mainly centered on Chen Shuo. This part of the group portraits of the characters should have a realistic temperament close to the market, conform to some settings of the characters in the script but should not be over-shaped, on the one hand, choose low-saturated colors in the clothing color system and with natural texture.

The closest people to Chen Shuo are his mother, uncle, and Brother Xie, followed by the scope of his daily life, such as the neighbors of the vegetable market he visits every day, and other people he comes into contact with in the working area. The most important of these is Chen Shuo’s family. Family of three. For the description of these three people, we did not deliberately exaggerate the embarrassment in the lives of the "little people" - the clothes are old but not dirty. Although there is a certain grayness in the overall clothing tone in this part of the processing, what is conveyed from the state of the characters is not bitter and depressing, but a flat and warm feeling.

The dream part revolves around Ding Lei, the exclamation mark and the stage of the three games. The feeling conveyed by "Dream" is youthful and high-spirited. The director hopes that the audience can see a group of bright and energetic people, so this part will be rich in clothing color selection and matching, and then use some emphases to shape different character personalities.

1. Chen Shuo (played by Wang Yibo)

In the early stages of preparation, I was still a little worried about not being able to turn Wang Yibo into Chen Shuo. Yibo has a superior figure and belongs to the "clothes rack" who can wear everything decently, while Chen Shuo's scenes are all about the current time, space and situations, not overhead living spaces and distant character settings. We made a lot of subtractions on Chen Shuo’s overall look. On the one hand ; The layering method and oversize silhouette dressing (loose clothes will cause movement ), the matching should be as simple as possible.

​At the same time , we also refer to the dressing habits of most B-boys, such as: sweatpants, light fabric overalls, simple T-shirts, etc., which are convenient for dancers to wear single item. Judging from Chen Shuo's living situation, there is no distinction between dance training clothes and daily private clothes in terms of clothing function. The styles of these two parts should be unified. In order to add texture to the traces of life, the distressed artist washes and exposes the clothes repeatedly until they fade. In addition, the effect of Chen Shuo's worn parts of clothing due to his dancing habits as a B-boy and the details of the outer edge of the soles caused by a lot of training have also been enhanced.

In terms of hairstyle, Chen Shuo has neat short hair, the feeling that he could have trimmed it in a barber shop near the Lamai restaurant. In terms of technique, the hair stylists of the crew were required to try not to remove the volume of the hair, nor to trim the layers, but to use more insensitivity to the hair, so as to present the image of a young boy with no sense of modification.

After the makeup trial, the director discussed with us several times, and finally removed several sets of light-colored matching in the plan. The overall feeling of the dark-colored clothing can make Chen Shuo more pure and restrained, and condense love in the heart instead of externalizing it.

Apart from dancing and commercial performances, Chen Shuo is also busy with making a living and running around to deliver meals. He lacks the sophistication of urban young people. Therefore, in the state of Yibo's full makeup, we also processed the skin texture and added some special effects of noise, graininess, and sun exposure to get closer to Chen Shuo's daily life. In terms of character background, Chen Shuo is still a boy with love in his heart and his spirit has not been broken.

Chen Shuo’s costume style doesn’t change much throughout the film (except for the special costumes for the two battles). As the plot progresses, his growth mainly takes place inside the soul and the energy generated needs to be maintained within the logic of the story. Consistency of character status .

[danger-xylophones]

Games (Maul x reader) smut

Warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, afab reader, bdsm, reader is wearing a dress, inappropriate use of the force, praise kink, fingering

Set late game Mandalor's Gambit

..........................

This meeting was boring. Beyond boring, even. You sat to Maul's right, perched on the arm of the throne - one leg crossed elegantly over the other with your hands settled primly in your lap. You'd joined the meeting late as you'd been busy finishing a meeting with the trade federation on behalf of the man on the throne. That one had been long and vexing but the grateful smile that had slipped onto Maul's face when he next saw you made it worth it. And the dark look that had flickered through his eyes at the sight of your dress hadn't hurt either. But as a result, you now had a rather uncomfortable seat.

Almec's voice was droning as he read out the latest fiscal reports from the Pyke's exploits. But, you supposed you should be grateful that it was easy to tune out.

Your gaze had long since gone lazy, focused on the far off mural of Satine that Maul still hadn't replaced when you felt the first touch. It was a whisper, cresting along the outside of your thigh. It was just faint enough you thought for a moment that you'd imagined it. Or that the fabric of your dress had just moved strangely. So, you brushed it off.

Until it happened again on the inside of your thigh. This time, you jumped - startled by the light feeling, which unbalanced you and nearly made you fall off the arm of the throne. But you were quick and uncrossed your legs to catch yourself, creating a level plane for your weight to settle on.

You chanced a glance at the gathered dignitaries and representatives to see if anyone had noticed your startle and near embarrassing loss of balance. But they were thankfully focused on Almec.

Just as you went to heave a sigh of relief, the touch returned - this time cresting along the juncture where your leg meets your body. Much too close. Instinctively, you almost moved to slap the feeling away. But a subtle shift and a look to the man responsible for the phantom touches would prove more effective.

As nonchalantly as you could, you leaned back, supporting your weight on one arm so you could look back at Maul. The movement caught his attention. His golden eyes flicked to you and he met your gaze with a questioning one of his own. But you saw through it. "What are you doing?" You asked in a soft voice, not wanting to be overheard.

Your answer was a grin, small and smug. And a raised hand for you to take. You did, settling your palm in his. His grip tightened and with a small tug of his arm (and a discreet push through the force) you slid onto the throne, between Maul's legs with your back pressed against his raised knee.

He released your hand to wrap both his arms around your waist, securing you to him. You thought, foolishly, as you settled into his embrace that Maul would be satisfied with holding you - that the teasing touches were all just a bid to get you in his arms for the remainder of the meeting. And, for a moment, that looked to be true. As you settled so did Maul. With his grip secured around you, his focus returned to Almec and the meeting pressed on.

Once or twice an attendee would sneak a glance to the throne and note the change in seating but no one dared to make a comment. And the meeting almost passed without incident.

Your warning sign was a squeeze at your hip. The sudden change in pressure didn't make you jump this time, but it did make your focus snap back to Maul. He was looking a head, almost ignoring you. Until he did it again, harder, pushing his grip to the point of aching. Your breathing changed, spiking in time with the sudden rush of alertness that flooded your system. And Maul let up. You shifted uncomfortably, chancing a glance at the still gathered attendees who were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

You turned back to Maul, angling your head to meet his eye. His eyes gleamed back at you, an all too familiar spark dancing in the flaming depths. You tried to subtly shake your head, to tell him that this was a bad idea. His reply was a sharp pinch to the delicate skin around your hip. You jumped in his hold, causing a nearly feral grin to break out on Maul's face. Turning to rebuke him, you unwittingly opened yourself to his next attack on your will-power. Another pinch made you keen into him, face buried in his neck to hide the change in your countenance as your clit ached from the sudden stimulus. You could feel the laugh he stifled as it shook his shoulders. But Maul wasn't entirely cruel.

Bringing one of his hands up, he held your head in place to help you better hide from the potential onlookers. But the other snuck down to sit just below what was proper - resting testily on your inner thigh.

And then...nothing. Maul didn't move, didn't manipulate the force to cause more touches, he didn't even press at your mind to fill it with images of just what he wanted to do to you. You waited but nothing happened.

A soft voice in the back of your mind warned you not to trust it. This was a trap. He was waiting for you to make a move before he did more. This was a trap and you weren't going to fall for it.

Except you did. The very moment you lifted your head from his shoulder to try and return to your earlier position, the touches returned. It felt like your head had been locked down to his shoulder, you couldn't turn it one way or the other, let alone lift it up. His real hand moved from your head, trailing down your body to your lap, to sneak beneath your dress.

You were expecting another pinch and thus when instead Maul offered a delicate brush to your clit through the fabric of your underwear, a shocked gasp nearly slipped from you. But Maul was quick on the ball and you found your jaw held shut by the same force keeping your head on his shoulder. "Not a sound, starlight." His command only served to excite you further and you couldn't help the immediate frustration you felt for enjoying this approach of his.

He waited for you to move, to show your agreement to his terms or make a sign that you truly wanted him to stop. After a moment of considering the options, you settled your hands in your lap.

You couldn't see the grin that stretched across Maul's face at your quiet submission but you definitely felt the next sweep of his thumb over your still clothed clit. This time it did not pull such an illicit reaction from you but as he continued, each stroke slow and evenly timed and so light, you had to close your eyes and grit your teeth to keep from letting a frustrated whine escape. He was playing with you, that was all. And it was maddening.

Each gentle sweep of Maul's thumb made you more sensitive to the next and before long your arousal had outgrown the gentle stimulus. And he knew. That was the worst part. He knew exactly what he was doing by winding you up this way, frustrating you just to leave you wanting. All on purpose. And all you could do was let out a displeased huff and try to time a wiggle of your hips to force a stronger touch. But one squeeze of your thigh from Maul's unoccupied hand was warning enough. "Patience," Maul rebuked into your ear, "I will give you what you want but only if you behave."

Bastard. You thought. And received a pinch in kind.

And now that he'd worked you up, the ache felt all the better. A moan pressed at your lips but you forced it down with a drawn out breath. He'd stop, you knew, if you broke the first rule he'd established. "Very good." He purred and tugged your underwear down enough to slip his hand in. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"My lord, do you have anything to add before we adjourn?" The sound of Almec's voice startled you and you instinctively tried to snap your head up to look at him. Only for Maul to keep it in place.

"No," Maul's voice projected around the room just as his finger made contact, "You are all dismissed." the leather of his glove was absolutely frigid against your warm cunt and it sent a delightful chill through you. "Almec," Maul began to circle your clit, dancing on top of the delicate bud as he spoke, "I expect the minutes from the meeting to be sent to me immediately."

With your head still held against Maul's shoulder you couldn't see what happened next, but you had to assume Almec offered a nod before making some gesture to the gathered parties to dismiss them - going by the distinctive sound of many shuffling feet and swishing robes.

The entire time, Maul did not stop slowly circling your clit - still at a maddening pace. And nothing changed until the last person had left. "Saved by the bell, it would seem." Maul spoke low in your ear, and released his hold on your head to let you raise your face to his.

Still unsure if the no sound rule was still at play, you didn't dare speak and instead only tilted your head to show your confusion. He smiled fiendishly, "Very good," he hummed, speeding up his ministrations, chuckling to himself as he continued, "I was prepared to make you come undone in front of them all but now," with a bow of his head, he sealed his lips over yours for a moment, "I get to enjoy that beautiful sight alone."

[theshiftingfairy]

Shining Nikki Dr script

Took me a little bit of time, but finally, it’s here. Now, I know there is probably not a lot of people that are familiar with the Nikki franchise in the shifting community, but that’s also why I wanted to talk about it. Also it’s one of my main dr at the moment and talking about it makes me happy.

Shining Nikki is a mobile dress up game, in the world of Miraland where instead of violence, people fight with Styling power, the magic system of the game based on beauty.

I have two shining Nikki dr. One of them follow the plot, solely because the player character is a consciousness without a body that follows Nikki in the beginning and I am so curious to have this experience of not having a body and just existing in the world. But for my main dr, I completely got rid of the plot to enjoy Miraland when it’s peaceful.

The main reason I love Miraland is that it is one of the only fantasy world I know within a modern setting. There is elves, fairies and dragons, but at the same time, the technology is advanced, as much if not more than ours, and there is a futuristic island where all advanced technologies are made. And all is mixed together and still feels cohesive.

This is also because it’s kind of my version of a fame dr

Miraland

Feel free to ignore this part if you don’t want spoilers

- As I mentioned, there is no war of gods and no threat of end of the world. There was also no war between the elves of light and water elves and they were never banished. I want my Miracle land to be the most whimsical place it can be.

- The gods exist though, at least the new gods like aphrodia and the god of beauty and their envoy, but there is no consequence, they just exist as they are in the game.

- There can be movement between the different factions, but not to the point of creating war. I don’t think Savior would have a reason to exist in this reality, unless maybe as an organisation that monitors individuals with strong styling power.

- Elves can actually fly with their wings and leave the Pigeon forest normally. Forest elves typically prefer to stay in the forest and are more secluded. I also decided to script in Chloris and Lakris, the princes of the forest elves from Love Nikki as they would be alive in this era.

Me

My dr name is Elina Wilde, like in all my drs (actually I think it’s the first time I introduce my dr name so hi!)

I am half elf. My mother, Rosalie Bellflowers is a Forest Elf and a noble from the Pigeon capital while my dad is a human scientist from the pigeon kingdom as well. They are the same as my hogwarts dr parents as well.

Their relationship was not well accepted among elven nobility (in this world, elves think themselves superiors to humans, the only half elf in the game is a paria for having a human mother) so they left the Pigeon kingdom for Ninir where I grew up in Starheaven. I have 3 younger siblings. My sister Lynn is 22 and studies interior design at Cicia university. My brothers are still in high school in Starheaven, I honestly have no idea of what they will do after school.

I decided to make this dr into a ballerina dr as it’s something I always wanted to try, so i am a professional ballerina and i went back in the pigeon kingdom as an adult to pursue dancing.

I live near the pigeon forest in a village called Winged Manor (another thing I borrowed from Love Nikki) The manor is the property of my grandmother Adélaïde Bellflowers and I live in a small but cosy cottage within the village.

Ballet 🩰

I started to learn ballet at 6, in Ninir Starheaven. I then was accepted in the Pigeon royal academy at 18 and started dancing professionally for the royal ballet company at 23 and I am now 29. (If you were here when I was questioning myself as to what to do with my age, I decided to go with my cr current age, since elves lives for hundreds of years, I have still so much time to enjoy this dr)

ninir ballet style is a dreamlike, theatrical fairytale, and tells the stories of the most famous fairytale of Ninir. While Pigeon ballet tells the numerous legends of the Pigeon forest , mythological stories and dramatic stories. For comparison a Ninir ballet would be the Nutcracker and a Pigeon ballet would be Giselle or Romeo and Juliet.

Pigeon ballet have the particularity to have roles that are reserved to elves as they use the elves ability to fly. With time companies in Pigeon started to include some of the most popular ninir ballet.

My logic is that each nation in the game has a big faction that is in the entertainment industry. In a world where beauty is power, the most important aspect of everything is art. Ninir has the December troupe, Cloud has the neverfall troupe, Apple has the Mercury group, I thought Pigeon could have an Opera house and a big Ballet royal company.

Designer style

In Miraland, it is kind of expected to be skilled in designing, no matter what your main occupation is. Even if, people still buy clothes, it is more common to buy patterns and to make your clothes yourself (as a node to the game crafting mechanic) I of course scripted to be very skilled in sewing and clothes design.

As a designer, I specialise as a ballet and theatrical costume designer and I am known for my elegant and whimsical style that blends skillfully the Ninir fairytale style with the intricate and whimsical Pigeon Elven style.

To keep my designs in the styles of Shining Nikki, I went to Love Nikki to literally pick and choose what sets I wanted to be the designer of, as well as stealing design from the game that are attributed to other characters 😅 (Aloysius and Mercury stinks anyway, I have a pattern of loving sets made by characters i hate in this game…) I also stole the tinker bell dress from Yexiao but I gave her credit to a fairy dress with Chinese influences so it’s fine I think x)

If you think about it it’s not really stealing, I just go to a reality where I am indeed the designer of those sets, they would have no idea.🤷‍♀️

Styling power

I took inspiration from the new infinity Nikki game to visualise what styling power actually looks like. Different outfits carry different powers, such as the ability to glide, some would let you have a control over the elements like wind, water etc…The stronger the styling power in a person is, the easier it is to use this magic system.

With styling power, clothes can be stored into a pocket dimension and one can change magical girl style. In infinity Nikki , you see characters planning their outfits on a tablet and have them appear on them, so it would be something like that. It just sounds fun to me…and with the amount of clothes I planned, rather convenient. This dr really is for my inner child.

Nikki ( and Momo)

Let’s not forget about our main character. In the games she gets isekai into Miraland, so she appears out of nowhere. In this reality I decided to make her a Shifter as well, so she shifts there, but she have her family as well. Since Nikki is Chinese, I scripted her family to be from the Cloud Empire. She works as a journalist at the designer intel hub, which allows her to travel all around Miraland and she is a designer and stylist for the Apple apparel group.

There it finally is 🥰

I feel like not a lot of people will really know what I’m talking about here, but that’s okay.

If you don’t know the game shining Nikki, definitely check it out (but please don’t waste your money into gacha, there is rerun of the events all the time, you don’t have to pay to get the full set if you’re patient. And if you loose interest in the game, there would be no reason to spend money on it.)