#mundane plays akinator

[themundanemudperson]

trying to get ian yorkland and

wtf is this, akinator?????????

[desparaic]

To Kill My Melody - Muzan X Reader

In which, Muzan, despite having buried away his pathetic past as a human, pitifully clung unto his regret.

Read sequel here

TW: Angst, death, no beta we die like my motivation to finish my rengoku x reader

Having lived for 1000 years, Muzan have seen everything that Japan has to offer— the world, too, had he not been so obsessed with finding the blue spider lily which he is convinced can only grow on the soils of his motherland.

His mind is set on the future, the desire of perfection, to be free from the chains which have held him down for so long.

Yet there is one that he refuses to let go, no matter how much it wraps around his seven hearts so tightly.

The first thing that flashes in his mind when he thinks back to those old days was a melody that used to play every so often when he lied on his death bed, sick and frail. A melody that he secretly welcomed and longed for, though he kept this fact to himself. A melody that brings comfort and peace, even for just a moment.

The next thing he would think of would always be you.

You, who he was forced to wed.

You, who did not once complain about having a sick husband.

You, who tended to him so kindly and carefully, with a touch that made him feel human.

You, who would get upset when your friends whisper the possibility of you inheriting Kibutsuji fortune once your husband passes.

You, who he had not once acknowledge in his past sickly foolishness.

Every medicine you brought to be drank, every words you speak to soothe his sore muscles, he hurled it all away, cursed at you for your pitiful attempt to help him. How could you? You cannot save him from his impending death. You cannot even ease his pain. How useful could you possibly be?

Tea would be spilled, a flash of hurt could be seen as it scald the skin away, painting it red with pain. A downcast look would then replace the pained expression, wondering where you have done wrong this time.

And sometimes, just sometimes, in late evenings where the moon was nowhere to be seen, he can hear soft weeping and heart cracking. A melody (if he can even call such as one) which he would turn deaf ears on.

He would rather hear that old melody he grew to enjoy instead.

There were times, however, where Muzan didn’t find your presence as miserable as he normally would. Snarky remarks here and there, though he would not drive you away. Although he would never admit this, you would claim that his airy exhale, which he would let out at times when you managed to say something that amuses him, was akin to a laugh of sorts.

Laugh? Impossible. What is there to laugh when he would die before he reaches the age of 20?

Yet here you were, dreaming about the day where he would have enough strength to have a picnic with you in the garden, under the sunlight, sharing stories and eating sweets which you would prepare just for the occasion.

He scoffed at this whenever you dreamed of such impossibility. If he had those days, then he would never waste those times doing such mundane things.

How mindless, how slow, how naive you were indeed. And you are a noble lady, who used to win over the hearts of many men, chasing for your hand? What is there about you that is worth chasing?

He scoffed at your smile, he scoffed at your laugh. How dare you laugh at him when his face contorted with confusion as he tasted a sweet he had never seen before. How dare you tease him when he doesn’t know something you claim to be simple? Like taking care of a flower, or knowing what he picked from the lists of clothes would be an atrocious fashion disaster?

How foolish you were indeed, and Muzan knew it to be so when you had foolishly set out in an attempt to find some flowers just to cheer him up that one night.

He didn’t remember the details. Something about rain earlier in the day… the road muddy and slippery… weak footing… fall… fall.. fall…

THUMP!

Was that his heart? How can it be so? His heart, so weak and fragile, he could barely even sense it in his own body, thumping wildly against his chest when he heard the commotions outside his room, hearing servants shouting, “Get the doctor!” and “Someone help me carry her!”, but one among all that caught his attention, one that gave him strength to stand up, despite him not being able to do so earlier that morning…

No, he dare not repeat the words in his mind again.

When he stumbled into the room, crowded with servants, he saw you in such a terrible state. Kimono torn, limbs bloodied, face muddied.

He ordered, roared at the servants to get out. Only the doctor, that damned doctor who swore would cure his illness, whom he is convinced is nothing but a quack, remained to tend to you.

When he, too, left, there remain Muzan and you… and that melody ringing in his ears.

And here you were, smiling despite your state, repeating that same, foolish dream you had as always. Him, in a healthier body, a picnic, sunny day.

But you weren’t in that dream, you then claimed. You hoped, begged, pleaded, to have him find a better, more competent wife, to care for him, to bear him children which you could not do due to his sickened body, to live long lives with him.

You were foolish indeed. Foolish to throw that dream of yours down the ocean of despair so easily.

“More competent?” He scoffed, who is more competent than his current wife who commands the entire estate, taking over his duty as the head when he was unable to, caring for him despite his stubbornness, staying by his side despite his desire to push you away?

“Then,” you choked out, “In another life—”

No, not this nonsense. You will not leave him, you will not make him wait for a lifetime. You want that stupid picnic? Fine, he will have the servants to arrange that stupid picnic. You like sweets? He'll invite the finest chefs to make whatever sweets and other food you want. You want it to be sunny? How bothersome, it’s been raining a lot these days, but very well, he would find ways, even going to the corners of the earth, to strike down those clouds and drag that damned sun out.

For the first time in their lives as husband and wife, Muzan clinged to you to sleep. In that night, the melody he used to love hearing was soft and weak. Then he continued so the next night, and the night after that.

Until you passed in his arms.

How foolish, indeed. How dare you leave that dream of yours behind to forever haunt him? How dare you be so selfish to plague his weak heart with such foreign pain? How dare you curse him with those three words which he did not even get the chance to ever say before you slip away into eternal sleep?

And how foolish are his pathetic servants, trying to pry your body away from his arms. You were still warm, he refused to let anyone steal that warmth away. Not even death. He has faced death many times in his bed, he refused to acknowledge it, now he refused to acknowledge yours.

He refused to acknowledge the absence of that melody.

Then, when he felt that power coursed through his veins, the power to conquer his sickness and death, to bring humanity down to its knees, his first immediate thought is to share it with you— to bring you back to him, and—

cold were your body, cold were your touch.

Silence replaced the melody that he killed, all because he refused to acknowledge you.

That melody, your heartbeat. He now remembered those times in his sickly episodes, where his head rested against your chest, listening to that melody.

Now, he will be haunted by it for years to come.

How foolish was he, to push away that melody that had brightened his solemn world.

And now, 1000 years later, desperately, desperately, he awaits your promise about that another life.

Next part: To Hearken That Dreadful Silence

[writingforstraykids]

Home - Jinnie Bday fic🖤

Pairing: OT8 x gnReader

Word Count: 1711

Summary: In Stray Kids you found a family in ways you would've never imagined. They were your home, your safe place, your everything.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, found family, 9th member

A/N: The happiest birthday to you my sweet Jinnie @jinnie-ret 🖤 I hope you were able to enjoy your day and I wish you only the best for your next year!! Hope you enjoy this little something🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Your journey to find a family within Stray Kids wasn't an easy one, but it was undoubtedly one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. Each member brought something unique to the table, filling different roles in your life that you didn't even know you needed. From the very first day you met them, it was clear that this group of eight would become your family in ways you'd never imagined.

From the moment you became part of the group, Chan took you under his wing. His warm smile and welcoming demeanor immediately made you feel at ease. He was always there to guide you, whether it was through a tough choreography or just a rough day.

"Y/n, remember, it's not about being perfect. It's about doing your best and growing every day," Chan would often remind you with a reassuring smile.

Chan's presence in your life was akin to that of a protective older brother. He always knew when you were feeling down and needed a pep talk or just someone to listen. His dedication to the group and to you was inspiring, and his belief in your potential pushed you to strive for more.

Minho, with his sharp dance moves and even sharper wit, quickly became someone you could rely on for both comfort and a good laugh. He had a way of teasing you that always made you feel included and part of the group.

"Y/nnie, you call that a dance move? Even my cats can do better," he'd joke, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Despite his teasing, Minho was incredibly caring. He had a knack for knowing when something was wrong and would often check in on you with his unique brand of tough love. His duality of being both a playful friend and a compassionate confidant was something you cherished deeply.

Hyunjin, with his ethereal visuals and artistic flair, quickly became your creative soulmate. Whether it was painting, dancing, or just discussing life, Hyunjin had a way of making everything seem beautiful and meaningful.

“Let's paint the town red tonight, literally," he'd say, handing you a paintbrush with a grin.

Hyunjin's passion for the arts was contagious, and he often encouraged you to explore your creative side. His ability to find beauty in the mundane and his unwavering support helped you see the world through a different lens.

Changbin, with his fierce rapping skills and even fiercer determination, was the motivational coach you never knew you needed. His relentless work ethic and positive attitude were nothing short of inspiring.

“If you want something, you have to fight for it. We'll always support you, but you have to play your part," he'd often say, his eyes filled with intensity.

Changbin's tough love approach pushed you to your limits and helped you break barriers you didn't think were possible. His constant encouragement and belief in your abilities were a source of strength on your toughest days.

Jisung, with his infectious laughter, quickly became the lighthearted joker of your new family. His ability to make you laugh, even on your worst days, was a gift you cherished dearly.

"Y/nnie, Y/nnie, Y/nnie! Why did the-" he would say, bursting into laughter before he could even finish the joke.

Jisung's lighthearted nature and playful spirit brought joy and laughter into your life. His ability to find humor in any situation was a constant reminder not to take life too seriously and to always find reasons to smile.

Felix, with his deep voice and even deeper compassion, was the gentle heart of the group. His kindness and empathy knew no bounds, and he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

"Sometimes all you need is a little bit of patience and loads of cuddles,” Felix would say, his voice soothing and reassuring.

Felix's gentle nature and warm hugs were a constant source of comfort. His ability to listen without judgment and offer genuine support made him someone you could always turn to in times of need.

Seungmin, with his calm demeanor and wise insights, quickly became the voice of reason in your life. His ability to stay grounded and offer practical advice was something you came to rely on.

"It's okay to take a step back and breathe. Not everything has to be perfect," Seungmin would remind you, his voice steady and calm.

Seungmin's level-headedness and rational perspective were invaluable. His guidance helped you navigate the challenges you faced and made you appreciate the importance of balance and patience.

Jeongin, the youngest member of the group, quickly became the little brother you never had. His youthful energy and innocent charm were a breath of fresh air, and his admiration for you was heartwarming.

"Can you show me that dance move again? You're so cool!" he would say, his eyes wide with admiration.

Innie's enthusiasm and eagerness to learn from you made you feel appreciated and valued. His presence was a constant reminder of the joy of discovery and the importance of nurturing those who look up to you.

-

As time went on, you found yourself growing closer to each member, forming bonds that felt unbreakable. Each one of them brought something unique to your life, filling different roles that together created a sense of family you had always longed for.

One day, after a particularly grueling practice session, you all decided to unwind at the dorm. Chan suggested watching a movie, and everyone quickly agreed. You all settled into the living room, snacks in hand, ready to relax and enjoy each other's company.

"Y/nnie, you get to pick the movie," Chan said, tossing you the remote.

After much deliberation and playful arguing, you settled on a comedy, knowing it would lift everyone's spirits. As the movie played, you found yourself sandwiched between Minho and Jisung, both of whom provided a running commentary that had you in stitches.

"Why is he doing that? That's such a dumb move," Minho remarked, shaking his head.

"Right? I could've written a better script," Jisung added, making you burst into laughter.

Felix and Innie were engrossed in the movie, sharing a blanket and occasionally throwing popcorn at each other. Seungmin and Hyunjin were seated on the floor, discussing the cinematography and artistic elements, while Changbin and Chan were busy trying to outdo each other in a push-up contest during the commercial breaks.

"Y/nnie, care to join us?" Changbin asked with a challenging grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'll leave the push-ups to you two. I'm quite comfortable here."

As the night went on, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for these moments. The laughter, the camaraderie, and the simple joy of being together were things you treasured deeply.

Of course, it wasn't always smooth sailing. There were times when tensions ran high, and disagreements were inevitable. But even in those moments, you found strength in your newfound family. One particularly challenging day stood out in your memory.

You were in the studio, working on a new track. The atmosphere was tense, as everyone was feeling the pressure to deliver something exceptional. Voices were raised, and frustrations were palpable.

"I think we should try a different approach," Chan suggested, his tone calm but firm.

You were feeling overwhelmed, and his suggestion felt like another critique. "I don't think that's the problem, Chan," you snapped, immediately regretting your tone.

The room fell silent, and you could feel the weight of your words. Chan took a deep breath, his expression softening. "Let's take a break."

As everyone dispersed, Felix approached you, his expression concerned. "Hey, it's okay to feel frustrated. We're all in this together."

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. "I just want to get it right."

Felix pulled you into a hug, his warmth comforting. "And we will. But we need to take care of ourselves too."

After a few moments, you rejoined the group, ready to try again. Chan's understanding smile and the supportive nods from the others reminded you that no matter how tough things got, you had a family to rely on.

For every challenge, there were also moments of triumph that you celebrated together. The day you released your first successful track as a group was one of the most memorable.

"Y/nnie, we did it!" Jisung exclaimed, pulling you into a jubilant hug.

The energy in the room was electric, as everyone danced and celebrated the hard-earned success. Min and Hyunjin were already planning a celebratory dinner, while Changbin and Innie were busy taking selfies to capture the moment.

"Group photo, everyone!" Seungmin called, setting up the camera.

As you all huddled together, arms around each other, you felt a profound sense of belonging. The smiles, the laughter, and the sheer joy in that moment were a testament to the bond you shared.

Looking back, you realized that finding your family in Stray Kids was a journey filled with highs and lows, laughter and tears. Each member brought something unique to your life, creating a sense of belonging that was irreplaceable.

Chan's protective nature and unwavering support made you feel safe and valued. Minho's teasing and tough love reminded you of the importance of balance and perspective. Hyunjin's artistic soul and passion for beauty inspired you to see the world through a different lens.

Changbin's motivational drive and fierce determination pushed you to achieve more than you ever thought possible. Jisung's lighthearted jokes and playful spirit brought joy and laughter into your life. Felix's gentle heart and deep compassion provided comfort and understanding.

Seungmin's calm demeanor and wise insights offered guidance and clarity, while Innie's youthful energy and admiration reminded you of the joy of discovery and growth.

In Stray Kids, you found not just friends, but a family that supported and uplifted you in ways you never imagined. The bond you shared with each member was a testament to the power of love, understanding, and unity.

As you looked around at your new family, you realized that you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together, you faced challenges, celebrated successes, and created memories that would last a lifetime. In Stray Kids, you found your home, your family, and your place in the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9

[elowhin]

—What if [ READER ] was exactly just like " The Qu " From 'All 'Tomorrow's?' Human in appearance wise, but within the confines of her mind.. A New kind of evil lies in it's wake, what if this [ READER ] Was the one who encouraged and made 'AM' awake to his new found sentience?

Scenario :

You were in short, a Nepo Baby. A calculated Nepo Baby however, your birth was nothing more than to benefit those of two families, you were birthed from buisness, not love. — But if anything you were more akin to a Sad Lazy Pile of flesh and bones forced to work. Your whole purpose and being here was to rise above the rest, play pretend, and assist in the useless III War.

Not that you cared.

Overpopulation was a serious problem ! Having less test subjects was also a problem.. Not like you couldn't convince them to give you new ( pathetic. ) subjects.

In fairness everything seemed to play out right for you, just as they intended; life was meant to be this easy for you in the long run, your eccentric methods were a delight and unique treat to get spies to admit to their wrongs, did you care much about that? No, you only cared about the benefits they gave you, the free medical equipment and.. Illegal substances were nice, gave you much more freedom.

You'd often do surgery at most when you're bored, but the healing field was not something you enjoyed, mundane and boring. Useless and meaningless, nothing to you.

That was until something changed, you were brought into a room with an AI, 'Allied Master-Computer.' Whatcha'ma call it? It asked you questions and you answered ( much to your disinterest and boredom. ) It took about Four hours,

Nice.

—

NOTE : Reader's personality is much more apathetic, but do expect them to be exactly like the QU, AM doesn't have much spotlight since when this happened he wasn't booted up yet to gain sentience.

[honeytonedhottie]

ways to apply the law⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍰

i thought this post would be helpful but just a quick disclaimer, you decide how you wanna apply the law, this post simply serves as EXAMPLES of when and how u could apply the law if ur looking for that/ways that i apply the law.

TO SATURATE ;

saturating definitely helps when ur consciously manifesting something. when ur manifesting something that seems foreign or something that u want quickly, saturate ur mind so much so to the point where its hard to recall the old story.

make and use affirmation tapes

sleep/do whatever u want with subliminals or affirmation tapes playing - i say sleep bcuz when u sleep ur subconscious is wide open but whatever floats ur boat

AFFIRM ;

whether u believe in affirmations or not, you are ALWAYS affirming at every second of the day whether its conscious or unconscious bcuz thinking = affirming and ur always thinking, so u might as well think thoughts that are useful.

robotic affirming

affirmation tapes

mirror work - repeating ur affs to urself in the mirror

reading an affirmation list

hot tip ; a rly good habit to form is affirming as soon as u wake up bcuz ur still in that drowsy "coming to" state so instead of reaching for ur phone (which is bad for you) you can start the day right.

GOOD TIMES TO AFFIRM ; you can affirm for ur desire when doing mundane tasks like laundry or washing dishes, u can listen to ur affirmation tapes while watching television, u can listen to ur subliminals while doing skincare, you can affirm while girl-blogging. u can affirm anytime!!

VISUALIZING ;

SATS (state akin to sleep - visualizing when ur in that drowsy state a scene constructed about ur desires over and over again until u sleep)

day-dreaming (if u daydream nonstop all the time, daydream about u in relation to ur desire)

[bubblybloob]

I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

[toomiieimagiines]

hi hi there! sooooo, how about some Tsukasa cuddling headcanons? Feel free to ignore if you’ve got better ones! Have a super awesome day! >:D

YOU ALL ARE A BUNCH OF DIRTY DIRTY TSUKASA LOVERS!! WHAT IS WITH HIM THAT YOU LOVE SO MUCH! ToT love a good cuddle hc…. was honestly excited to see it… (can we address how he dresses sometime? what a cutie pie…. honestly, i didn’t really favor kasa before i started writing for him!! he’s so darling!!!>_<) AND SORRY FOR THE MINI HIATUS!! life’s been kinda hard recently!! ^_^||| sorry for it being kinda short!

EDIT: i forgot to add tags like a scatterbrain…. -.- i hope people can still see this…

Tsukasa Tenma cuddling hc’s (+ more!)

Too hot to handle… (LITERALLY)

So so warm, an actual walking furnace, YET HES FREEZING!

“Honey, it’s so so cold please…” (whiny (HOW SURPRISING))

“‘Kasa, baby, I’m sweating…”

LOVES and I mean LOVES to cuddle

Who would believe me if I told them he’d pounce on you at any given opportunity? (OMG wuttt??? that’s soooo unlike him!!)

“Sweeetheart, I just miss you!”

“Honey, please when do I ever ask you for anything??”

Trust if he’s sick he makes it your problem too, like pls unsick me!!

Smells like shortbread

You honestly don’t know why because the only time he wears cologne is if he’s going somewhere fancy, and it’s never sweet

Maybe it’s Sakis weird love for baking, maybe it’s a little fairy who likes to sprinkle him with it while he sleeps, he doesn’t really know.

Favorite positions are ones where you’re facing eachother

Doesn’t really like spooning, he doesn’t find it as satisfying

ALSO VERY PARTIAL TO HIM LAYING HIS HEAD ON YOUR CHEST

He likes your heartbeat!!! Is that a crime?

Will genuinely NEVER let you get back up after

He will fight you… Its infuriating

WRAPS HIS ARMS SO TIGHT AROUND YOU, HES LIKE A TON OF BRICKS

Didn’t know I signed up for cuddling sheetmetal, thanks for the warning!

Honestly, he’s so boyfriend tho it’s insane…. like yes yes of course you’re my boyfriend!

AGHHHA HES SO CUTIEEE!!! i enjoy leaving these drabbles after my hcs!! it makes me feel like i actually did something! keep requesting, sorry if i haven’t gotten to yours yet!! there’s been so many! thank you so much!^w^

Rehearsal sucks, anyone who’s ever done anything knows it, and so does Tsukasa. He’s exhausted, and he knows the one thing that’ll recharge him.

You.

He sends you a text akin to “please let me come over before I die and it’ll be your fault”, and who could say no to that!? That’s how you ended up with a mildly sweaty Tsukasa laying on top of your previously perfectly made bed…

“You’re too warm! I can lay with you, but this is ridiculous!” You squirm, trying to pry the boy off of you. When did he get so heavy?! It’s like a bag of bricks is holding you down!

“Please sweetheart, when do I ever ask you for anything?!” He whines, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

“Five minutes ago you asked me to scratch your back, you asked me for a drink from the vending machine because you didn’t wanna get your wallet-“

“Never mind!” He cuts you off, covering your mouth. “It’s the last time, I swear! I promise that I won’t ever again!-”

You look up at him, unimpressed.

“For the..” he looks away dejectedly, taking his hand off your mouth, “rest of the time I’m here…”

You snicker at his sudden sheepishness, “what happened to the passion, ‘Kasa?” Your fingers run through his blonde hair, twisting it around your fingers.

“You put the fire out… If you could see my eyes right now, you’d see they’re gray and dull….”

You smack his head playfully, “don’t bite the hands that scratch your back.”

He just sighs, burying his head deeper into your neck. He’s warm, REALLY warm, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind anymore. It really is times like these that make you appreciate him the most. He’s not performing, he’s not playing, he’s just kinda there, and you’re kinda there too. Everything can be so much, but life feels mundane and boring when you two are like this - in a good way! It feels domestic.

“I love you, Tsukasa. Y’know that?” You lift his head up, looking into his eyes. Damnit, he’s looks kinda sweet. It almost makes you feel bad for teasing him… Almost.

He leans into the touch, eyes closing again. His voice is uncharacteristically soft when he replies, “I do. I love you too, a lot.”

A beat passes,

“I’m aloud to fall asleep, right?”

“Tsukasa!”

[cipheramnesia]

The "movie about a movie that kills you" is a surprisingly robust genre of horror. There's a wide range of approaches, but one key factor is the question of how good the deadly film in a film is, on its own. Some approaches are keeping the faux film entirely unseen, use brief clips, or make it real short.

Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made goes in for a high risk approach and delivers a complete finished film, ostensibly made in the 70s and never released, framed by brief opening and closing info bites to set the stage of it.

Somehow this thing was completely off my radar, which means I was taken fully off guard as an ominous warning about the content in white text on black appeared on screen, giving a thirty second count down to leave if I wanted.

Wonderful showmanship and canny filmmaking that got me right in the mood to enjoy what followed. While I wouldn't call it a scary movie, I found it almost delightful in the atmospheric dread and devotion to its aesthetic of low budget 70s films. Nothing in it feels like a curse on its own, but it does feel like the sort of movie that could easily prompt psychological distress for anyone under psychotropic influences, pre-existing emotional vulnerability, or prone to delusional states. Not through anything supernatural, more because it works hard to keep the viewer in constant doubt over what is and is not real for the characters in the film. Combined with the framing device of it being a movie somehow able to influence the real world of the viewer, and the use of fractionally visible flashes of occult symbols on the screen, it generates an intense feeling of unreality which for me was an almost drug-like high and an immersive pleasure.

The premise of Antrum is simply a brother and sister decide to dig a hole to hell, and the movie plays out around this event by surrounding it with disturbing sounds and imagery, as well as real world dangers that weave the protagonists between the supernatural and mundane while keeping them in a state of terror and madness that grows until it becomes unrelenting.

In a certain sense it also feels cursed, like the kind of film where there are elements that feel very transgressive - in particular the opening scene which to my mind evoked Un Chien Andalou - not the infamous eyeball slicing scene, but the use of rotting animals. The few and very basic visual effects remind me as well of the early Survival Research Laboratory devices engineered by Mark Pauline.

However, the core question for me is also always what is the movie about besides the plot. If I had to identify some rough themes, I would say it's trying to explore the idea of understanding death and violence through the eyes of children who do not yet have the psychological tools for processing such matters, but who have been left on their own to do so regardless.

Many of the unusual elements in the movie can relate to death rituals poorly understood, starting from the very premise of digging a hole into the earth. And the same act is surrounded by strange rituals unclear in their origin, ideas which might be logical drawn from watching words recited over a grave without having a connection of purpose. Their encounters with other people are fully without possibility of communication as none of them speak the same language, and these mundane threats feel at times akin to a satanic Alice in Wonderland, rituals and violence whose meaning cannot be understood by the protagonists.

Likewise the supernatural is full of unprocessed images of death. Demons with black skin who look like mummified corpses. River crossings and empty chains dragging through leaves. It's as if death itself has manifested through the ambient world, surrounding the two children and refusing to let them leave its circle.

In combination with the intriguing use of sigils inscribed throughout, it creates a movie that is for me a joy to watch. An absolutely perfect Halloween spook for next year, but your mileage may vary between finding it full of pretentious nonsense or maybe the scariest film you'll ever watch. It can really come off either way, and I'm honestly not quite sure why my reaction was actual joy in the watching. Not to undercut the severity of the subject matter, but I just can't stop thinking about how happy I was to watch the movie at work mechanically, to enjoy the well oiled pieces fitting together, and then all topped off with the delicious extra treat of the framing device. Surely worth 90 minutes of your life.

[vamphorica]

mattmello week i: vacation

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga)

Relationship: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl

Characters: Matt | Mail Jeevas, Mello | Mihael Keehl

Additional Tags: Vacation, Beach Holidays, Childhood Sweethearts, Wammy's House Era (Death Note), Wammy's House (Death Note), Fluff, Public Display of Affection, Gentle Kissing, Gift Giving, Canon Compliant

Word Count: 2,777

Series: Part 1 of MattMello Week 2024 | @mattmelloweek

Summary: Matt and Mello decide to take a spontaneous trip to the seaside.

────────────────────────────

“I’m bored, let’s run away.”

October had brought about with it the mundanity of the forthcoming academic year, no longer enticing in its promise of long hours studying in the library to fixate on specialist subjects. Once again, there were exams to sit that required revision on topics that were frankly boring, and Mello was becoming more and more agitated with each paper, the fear of bad results paralysing him at the bedroom desk for hours on end. The week of respite that was afforded for Christmas was some distant fantasy, and as Matt rested his chin on the other boy’s shoulder, he knew it was time they escaped from this place, even if for a brief moment.

“And where exactly do you propose we go?” Mello mumbled, distracted by the encyclopaedia propped up against the wall that he was using to copy his reference notes. He wrote fast, Matt noticed, but his script was beautiful and easy to read. Bastard.

Matt moved his face so he buried his nose in Mello’s blond curtain of hair, breathing deeply, “We can go to the coast and back in a day.” He pulled back suddenly, cupping his hands across his face as he sneezed loudly. Mello rolled his eyes, flicking a page.

“Hardly beach season, is it?”

Matt shrugged, “Do you want to go away or not?”

“My History exam is in three days.”

“Great, tomorrow it is then.” Matt grinned, “I’ll set the alarm nice and early.”

────────────────────────────

Mello had always been the early riser of the two, and was growing frustrated at how incessantly Matt moaned about his self-inflicted exhaustion. They had scaled the gates at the crack of dawn, taking nothing but a small backpack that contained the accumulation of coins that they had both hoarded over several months from various circumstances since forgotten about. The train station proved to be a nightmare, with Mello notably irritable at how persistent the ticket seller was in interrogating them about their ages and why they intended to travel to the seaside on this rather cold Tuesday morning. Yes, they may have been bunking, but Mello hardly thought it was any of her business to be so intrusive.

“I got no sleep at all last night…”

“Shut up. Take a nap on the train or something, you shouldn’t have stayed up.” Sharing a dormitory with Matt had long since taught Mello to tolerate the repeated beeping that emanated from Matt’s various consoles that he played into the night. The rhythmic pattern they tended to possess often helped him drift to sleep himself anyway, “Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

Matt made a noise akin to an injured puppy, his hand slipping into Mello’s as the train heaved into the station. The blast of air confronted them with the reality of this little adventure that they were about to pursue. Mello squeezed Matt’s hand, and they stepped into the carriage, accompanied by a certain nervous excitement in anticipation of the day ahead.

While Matt did fall asleep the moment that the two sat down, Mello was intrigued by the journey, fixated on watching the rush of blurred landscapes from the window for the entirety of the two hours. His memories of arriving at the House were hazy things that arose only occasionally, but aside from that car journey, he had never travelled this far before. With Matt by his side, any anxieties of arriving somewhere completely new dissipated, replaced instead by a lingering curiosity of the world outside the confines of Winchester.

“Wake up.” Mello nudged Matt as they arrived, prompting the redhead to open his eyes slowly, frowning, “We’re here.”

“Already?”

Mello nodded, standing up, “You coming, or what?”

The two stumbled off the train to the quiet unfamiliarity of a strange place. The platform was empty and the grey clouds above promised nothing pleasant regarding the day’s weather prospects. The two looked at one another as they often did in these moments of uncertainty, but they had come all this way in search of something different from the claustrophobia of the House, which Mello insisted he knew well enough to give a decent estimate of how many bricks it was made up of.

“Let’s go.”

It was obvious this was a town that woke up for the summer, then proceeded to hibernate for the rest of the year. Storefronts selling buckets and spades, postcards, and other tat stood neglected along the narrow high street leading up to the coastline, and the few pensioners that roamed around peered suspiciously at the two small twelve year old boys that passed them by, as if they were breaching their territory. Mello stared back at them in defiance, hardly in the mood to be intimidated by these strangers, but Matt quietly averted his gaze to the cobbled ground, his hands nestled deep in his pockets.

The sea greeted the boys soon enough, stretching out into the whiteness of the autumnal sky as it lapped at the pebbled shore. There was a certain stale smell to the air and the soft cawing of gulls echoed in the isolation; all of a sudden Matt and Mello were the only people in the world. There had always been people around them their entire lives, mostly adults monitoring them and forcing them to comply with their strict rules about who they were meant to become. Yet now, in this empty beach town with its long stretch of seclusion and its cool, sharp breeze, Matt and Mello could sense the enticing opportunity of freedom for the first time.

“Let’s go in the sea.” Matt turned to Mello, a grin lighting up his expression.

“It’ll be damn freezing!”

“We can just take our shoes off and roll our trousers up.” Matt had already begun making his way to the shoreline, treading over the rocks carefully, and Mello quickly followed behind, hardly as resistant to the idea as he would have liked Matt to believe. They kicked off their trainers and discarded them without much concern as to whether they would still be there when they returned, before proceeding to fold over their trouser hems quickly, racing against one another to experience the sea for the first time.

“Ready?” Mello asked and Matt nodded. They shuffled close to the lapping waves, before Mello grabbed Matt’s wrist and ran, pulling the redhead alongside him. They both shrieked loudly as the icy water immediately numbed their feet, giggling at the extremity of their joint reaction.

“It’s so cold!”

“Yeah, no shit!”

They waded in as far as they could, until the water rose to their knees, before stopping to glance back at the beach behind them. There really was no one around, and their hands found each other's shirts, instinctively compelled to cling onto one another for a sense of comfort. They knew there was no risk of judgement here, and the warmth of their bodies was a reassurance in contrast to the bitterly chill waves in which they stood.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Yeah?” Before Matt had time to react, Mello slapped a tsunami over him, provoking another loud scream.

“You wanker!” Matt shoved Mello, causing the blonde to lose his footing and crash down into the sea, which snatched him as if reclaiming something sentimental once lost. Matt immediately grabbed a flailing hand that remained outstretched, pulling the completely damp Mello upright again, smacking his back as he hacked loudly, saltwater caught in his throat. He recovered quickly enough, but not without scowling at Matt.

“Sorry…” Matt mumbled, before attempting a small smirk, “Guess you won’t need a shower tonight.” Mello punched his arm softly, before pressing himself close to the other, giving Matt the opportunity to wrap his arms around Mello tightly, burying his face in the soft curve of his neck and shoulder. He forgot Mello could be fragile too, sometimes.

They stood together like this for a quiet moment before Mello complained that he was cold, and they made their way back up to the shore, wincing as their feet suffered against the hard rocks beneath. Their shoes remained where they had left them, and they gratefully sat down to slide them back on. Matt pulled off his hoodie and began patting Mello’s hair dry uselessly.

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” Mello resisted, but he appreciated the gesture, as ridiculous as it was, “Matt, I’m hungry. Do we have money for food?”

“Yeah.” Matt counted out ten quid from what he could find at the bottom of the backpack, “What do you want?”

“Anything. Well, not ice cream.”

Matt smiled, and stood up, “I’ll see what I can do.”

────────────────────────────

“What can I get for you, son?” The man at the counter was significantly younger than the other residents they had seen so far, and his accent was wildly different to what Matt had heard before, throwing him off as he stared at the battered fish before him blankly.

“What do you have?”

The man laughed, making Matt feel like an idiot, but as he pointed up the menu behind him, Matt could see that the options were limited to fish and chips. They sometimes had it for lunch at the House, but Mello was a picky eater and Matt did not fancy taking a risk.

“Chips. Please.”

The man nodded and began piling a generous portion onto a sheet of newspaper before wrapping it up. Matt wasn't entirely sure of what he thought about this practice but knew better than to comment on it. He exchanged it for the coins and as the man counted his change, he felt the warmth from his parcel melt away the sting of his frozen fingers. Mello would appreciate having something hot to eat.

He found Mello where he left him, sat up with his legs pulled tight against his chest and Matt’s hoodie draped over his shoulders like a cape. It had become sodden as it caught the droplets of water that fell from the strands of his golden hair. Matt sat down as close to him as he could, crossing his legs and laying the package in the centre of his lap before opening it up.

“Here we go. They're hot, so be careful.”

Mello smiled, picking a chip up and blowing on it gently before putting it in his mouth.

“That's really good.”

Matt tested one himself, and nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah. It is.”

Before they knew it, they had attacked a good half of the portion, their fingers slick with grease and crystals of salt. There was something that felt a little bit mischievous about it, for although Wammy’s didn't discourage unhealthy eating habits, it felt like a confirmation of what they had set out to do by taking this little excursion from the boredom of their everyday lives back at the House. Maybe it was because of this that Matt felt a surge of confidence rise within.

“You've got something on your face.” He commented nonchalantly and, without giving Mello time to respond, gently tilted his face with one hand and pressed his lips onto the blonde’s. They had kissed before, once or twice, in the shadows of the corridors while everyone was asleep, but Matt had always felt compelled to initiate it more brazenly. He felt Mello’s lips move against his and they sat with the saltiness of one another for a few moments before reluctantly disengaging.

“I found something while you were gone.” Mello mumbled, and Matt raised an eyebrow, curiosity peaked. Mello gently took the frames of Matt's goggles and pulled them down so they hung around his neck. Matt blinked. It really was a grey day today, now that the world was no longer bathed in a warm hue.

Turning around, Mello picked up something from the ground and then held it up to Matt. A piece of vivid green seaglass, smooth and bright, “I was surprised to find any here, actually, but it's like I thought. It matches your eyes.”

“Oh.” Matt didn’t really know why he struggled with an appropriate response to this, but his chest felt distinctly heavy with adoration for the boy before him. Mello recognised a piece of Matt in this strange landscape. He smiled softly, “Thanks.”

Mello nodded and handed it to Matt, who turned it over in his palm, comforted by its flawless texture, “Do we have to go back to the House?”

“Hm? Yeah, Matt. We do.”

“What if we just stayed here? Or took a train to London. We could even fly to the States from there.”

“With what money? Besides, they’ll find us eventually, you know.” Mello sighed, resting his chin on his knees. Matt leaned against him, relieved that his clothes had more or less dried now, even if it was inevitable that he would go down with a cold in a matter of days, “We don’t have the luxury to just run away – like it or not, we are successors. Sooner than later, I expect, L will have to make a choice about who he wants to take over when he dies.”

“You’re right. I just wish we didn’t have to deal with the pressure.” Matt replied quietly. It was not really the pressure he faced that concerned him, but rather the effect it had on Mello. He had watched how his studies consumed him, how obsession with his position in the House ate away at him with an unrelenting force. Matt had always known that such a trip as this was never going to deter Mello away from the House’s ambitious expectations, but he had hoped that it at least reminded him that there was more to life than the grades that held him captive.

“We should buy a postcard before we go.” Mello announced suddenly.

“Why? Who would we send it to?”

“We can keep it as a memento. Come on.”

The two boys scuffled up, neglecting the remainder of the chips on the shore as an offering to the gulls that had been circling close by, and drifted back towards the high street. The sun was already setting, casting the shops in a warm glow, and Mello dragged Matt into a small store that still had its ‘open’ sign turned outward. It was a musty little establishment, full of all kinds of oddities and junk that only a seaside town could make appear mildly endearing. Matt stared at a collection of taxidermied rats wearing clown outfits in horror as Mello made his way to the postcard stand.

“This place is so creepy.” Matt muttered in a hushed tone, but Mello ignored him as he sifted through the postcards, disappointed by the selection that was on display. Outdated Jubilee celebrations for various Royal Family members, postcards from Mallorca and Budapest, an assortment of ‘Get Well Soon’ cards. He was close to giving up until something caught his eye.

“Greetings from Los Angeles, California.” He read across the front of the faded postcard, depicting a sprawling skyline of tall buildings and palm trees, the sky blue and clear in a manner that looked almost artificial, especially in comparison to the bleakness of this little town. Mello could not quite place his finger on it, but something drew him to the image, something he wanted to hold onto.

“Yeah, come on, let’s go.” Mello muttered, his eyes darting over to the woman at the counter, who appeared half asleep. He slipped the card in the inner pocket of his jacket, without even Matt noticing, and they left the shop, only the small sound of the bell behind them indicating they had ever been there to begin with.

────────────────────────────

Despite the mild panic Matt and Mello felt upon realising that they were two pounds short of covering the fare back, only managing to earn after hanging around unashamedly begging for change to use at the telephone box, the two eventually caught the last train back to the House. Mello could feel himself drifting off, catching his head falling against his chest as he tried to blink some energy into the final stretch of the day.

Matt repositioned himself so that he could encourage Mello to lean his head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing the blonde’s thigh reassuringly, “Do you reckon Roger will be angry?”

“Mhm.” Mello replied, “Why, you scared?”

“No! No, I really enjoyed today. I’ll take whatever punishment.” He smiled, “Promise me we will run away together again soon, please?”

Mello’s eyelids felt too heavy to fight against, and as he breathed in the familiar smell of Matt, his mind wandered to that bright sunny skyline of the postcard buried in his jacket.

“Yes Matt, we will.”

[lilanette]

My designs for Reverse!Lilanette, drawn by the wonderful vercilla!

While I get what they were going for, the whole emo aesthetic just felt a bit too on-the-nose, so I repurposed the skirt and striped socks design from Marietta instead. I did keep the thorn design from OG Reverse!Marinette's jacket, but I ended up adding it to Marinette's usual flower motif.

Redesigning Lila is always a bit of a challenge, mostly because I actually really like her original design and colour palette. In the end I went for an opposite colour palette for her, green instead of red, and dressed her down so she looked a bit more casual instead of "cool".

Lore rambles under the cut :D

Marinette's characterisation doesn't change much from canon, I like to headcanon that her family is a lot more successful (ofc, canon already states they're renowned in Paris, but in this case it's more akin to the Agreste family's success), and unlike for our Marinette, Tom and Sabine were not as loving of parents and think Marinette's fashion aspirations aren't worth pursuing, so she dresses a lot more boldly to defy their demands of a respectable daughter, especially after the Supreme chose her.

I think, in this AU, Marinette isn't very sociable and doesn't have any friends, though it's mostly through her own choice. Initially, Chloe isolated her, but after Marinette gained the Ladybug Miraculous, she fought back, and due to the Supreme's favour and connections, got away with it. As a result, people are mostly scared of crossing her, and she has a lot more arrogance than our Marinette, because she thinks the power she wields and her favour with the Supreme means she's above everyone else. She's initially very loyal to the Supreme for giving her power, magical and mundane, but will eventually realise the cost of abusing her Miraculous.

Lila in this world I think was already exposed for her lies before coming to Paris, so she's a lot more humble and just trying to stay on everyone's good side. I think she'd be a lot more like the fanon Lila people thought about during the S2 hiatus. She hides a lot of herself in order to be liked and avoid getting into trouble, but a part of her still wants attention and to be accepted, so she doesn't have much of her own opinions on anything.

Lila admires Marinette for being so fearless, and initially tries to cozy up to her in order to win her over as a friend. Marinette isn't having any of this though, but eventually recognises the facade Lila is putting on in order to be liked and feels a tiny bit of kinship for someone who's also putting on a front, and that eventually spirals into something bigger.

I'm still working out exactly how Toxinelle and Griffe Noire operate in their world, so I haven't thought too much about the identity dynamics at play here. I do see Lila eventually joining the Resistance though. Maybe I could make a kamikotised design for her.

[smuttysabina]

A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts

(EU x Male Reader, 1800 words) Tags: Cumplay, perversity, anal, double penetration, blowjobs, frotting, even more cum, moral degeneration

EU has a thing with perverts. With thing representing a rather complicated love-hate relationship that feeds upon itself. Because you see, EU is herself a pervert, a degenerate girl who loves nothing more than pushing boundaries of polite sex. And considering that for an idol, "polite sex" is already a rather loose idea, this indicates that EU is into some truly deviant activities. But engaging in sexual acts that would make even Mia raise an eyebrow is a rather embarrassing thing; especially when the fans who are into such things are rarely the cream of the crop. While every idol is expected to bear with the... ordeal of pleasing their less savory fans, it's viewed as a touch depraved to actively enjoy it. So EU pretends to loath her humiliating experiences, verbally abusing her fans like an annoyed brat, while her body urges them on. Other idols would be disgusted by fans rubbing filthy, smelly cocks all over their faces, but she gleefully licks and plays with them until she milks out their chunky loads. In short, EU is simply a pervert, eager to engage in the most foul activities with anyone. Disappointingly for her, you are looking for something much more mundane...

The end of an Everglow fan orgy is more akin to a disaster zone than a conventional love-making event. While not rivalling the catastrophic tableau that fiercer 4th Generation groups like Itzy or Le Sserafim leave behind, it is still an impressive sight. There is generally a pool of mixed sex fluids filling the room, in some places several inches deep, with those too exhausted by their love-making strewn about, until overworked staff members can retrieve them. The girls themselves are usually adequately sated by that late hour, relaxing lazily upon heaped pillows as the last remaining fans drain themselves into Everglow. Late as always, you arrive with a hurried manner and heavy balls. Sihyeon is already snoring, as grimacing staff members towel the worst of the mess off of her; Yiren catnaps nearby, occasionally bestirring herself to snack upon some grapes as she slowly forces the night's semen out of her pussy. Mia is assisting some of the last remaining fans in the exertions, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies she happily drains the remaining dregs of their balls. Aisha meanwhile is busy felching an enormous quantity of jizz out of Onda's pussy, who moans and clutches at Aisha's head as she orgasms messily. Which leaves EU as the only member of Everglow who seems actively interested in such a late arrival.

EU gives you a beguiling smile as you approach, her adorable face entirely at odds with her current condition. Her petite body is slathered with sweat and semen, her eyes bloodshot from the sheer quantity of cum plastered onto her face. Her long straight hair is matted and snarled, though bizarrely enough her much stained beret is still in place; seemingly cemented to her hair with dried jizz. EU stands up to greet you, her tiny hands already exploring your manhood even as she enquires after your... tastes. Then she glances past you and her eyes widen slightly in delight, it seems like you're going to have to share her tonight after all... You are joined by several other fans, in various degrees of hygiene and grooming, crowding around the perverted idol. Who falls back to her knees in welcome as she is surrounded by throbbing, smelly cocks; EU is already panting with excitement. She nuzzles each in turn as her face is smothered in sweaty dick-flesh, lapping lustfully at her fans perverted cocks. Her warm wet tongue artfully plies its frenzied course amidst your twitching dicks, her agile hands joining in on the fun as well. EU rubs your swollen cockheads together, slurping on them, making sure each of your members get to know the others. You moan as the sensation of smooth skin sliding against your own cock, as EU lubricates the frotting with her moist mouth.

Then one of your compatriots has had enough of such lascivious teasing, hauling EU up into the air, and lowering her onto his throbbing cock. She squeaks in insincere outrage, how dare you dirty perverts use her petite body like a cheap fleshlight! But the loud squelching noises coming from her sopping pussy easily tell you how she really feels. So the group of you pass EU around like well, a cheap fleshlight, every fan using her for a few good hard pumps before handing her off to the next one. When its your turn you slide her easily down onto you, and she takes a particular delight in seeing how much your enjoying your time with her. See, isn't sharing fun? Then you regrettably hoist her off of your cock, giving her to guy beside you, your cock lonely in the cold air outside of EU's warmth. This pattern continues for several cycles, as each of you edge yourselves using this perverse idol's slutty hole; until at last, someone creampies her. EU hisses in disgust, how dare they fill her with their filthy seed, as she orgasms wetly. This signaled a further descent into debauchery.

Now all of EU's holes are to be put to use, as the next fan slides their cock into her cum filled pussy, you stick your dick into her much tighter asshole. She gasps in indignation, how dare you violate her tender ass with your thick, meaty cock... EU clenches tight around your shaft as you thrust in time with your partner, the both of you groaning as your edged cocks rapidly approach orgasm. The three of you shudder in sympathy as you cum together, your built up load spewing into EU's guts, even as her pussy is flood with cum once more. You lower her to her feet, and she looks back it you with a sleazy smirk, coyly running her tiny hand down your shaft. Then EU is getting pulled the floor, where she mounts another fan on the fluid-stained carpet. She vigorously rides her partner, while she takes two more in her nimble hands, taking turns sucking them off. You stroke yourself as you watch her bounce, her belly bulging slightly with every motion; EU giggling with delight as one of the fans jizzes all over her face. The other one busts in her mouth, making her throat bob as she drinks their smelly semen with glee. Her final partner reaches their climax soon after, unloading themselves into her as she slows down to enjoy the pleasure of having a dick cum in her.

Now bereft of a sex partner, EU pouts on her knees, until you shove your dirty cock into her face. She beams up at you, now she's really going to take her time satisfying you... She studiously pampers your cock, kissing and sucking every inch even as she insults you for "forcing" her to clean such a filthy dick. EU takes you in her mouth, all the way down to your balls where she licks at them even as her eyes start to fill with tears and her face turns red for want of air. She pulls off of your cock, gasping, before latching onto your balls, roiling them with her tongue as she strokes you. After she is finished mauling your sack, EU moves down to your taint, lavishing it with affection until she reaches your ass. Her hot tongue invades your hole, rimming it as she coils around you to get the deepest angle. By the time she is done violating your butt, you are shuddering with unwholesome pleasure at the exotic thrill of her acts. EU smiles indulgently as you slap your cock against her face, patiently inquiring how you would like to fuck her. Since that's what you're going to do right, you're going to stick that lewd cock back into her aren't you?

With strength born from passion, EU guides you down into the filth with her, kissing and massaging you amongst the stained pillows. Licking her lips, she grinds against your rigid cock, smearing it with the jizz that dribbles continuously out of her well-used hole. What, you thought you would have a choice pervert? EU could tell that you wanted to get ridden, she noticed how excited you got watching her getting filled up by all that sticky cum... No need to be shy, just admit it, you want to fuck the sloppy seconds out of EU's vulgar cunt! Groaning, you haul the haul the teasing slut atop you forwards, before slamming her back down onto your now fully erect manhood. She squeals in delighted outrage, you really stuck your deviant dick back inside of her cum-filled hole, you naughty boy! EU's slimy insides caress your cock, forcing out bubbles of turgid semen as she tries to tighten herself around your cock. The viscous mess burbles around your crotch, sticking to both of you as you rut like animals in heat. EU stares deep into your eyes as you plow her, urging you on with breathy whispers, her perky nipples firmly erect. Then a look of confusion crosses her face, and you feel something pressing against where your shaft enters EU's cunt. Something hot and hard slowly slides in along side you, pushing into her petite pussy until it is fully inside. Evidently another fan had a second wind as well...

EU moans unashamedly like a cheap whore as her hole is violated by both of your cocks. Her sopping cunt squeezes your dicks tight against one another, lubricating your thrusts with a mixture of cum and juices. Your dicks rub against each other as you and the other fan both fuck EU as hard as you can, your smooth shafts contrasting exquisitely with the clammy folds of her pussy. The sensation is unlike any you have felt before, and you feel your balls quickly rising to the occasion. EU meanwhile is flushed with arousal, whispering perverse and lascivious things to you as she gets fucked. Then something hot and syrupy spews all over your shaft, and you realize that your partner had just cum on your dick. You groan mightily as you soon follow suit, your seed erupting into EU's already creampied cunt. Who orgasms spectacularly, collapsing onto your chest even as she intimately insults the both of you. With a wet squelch, the other fan pulls out, leaving the you and EU gasping and heaving for breath against one another.

Eu smiles proudly down at you, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss; as her pussy belches jizz out of its loosened hole. See, aren't things so much better down her in the filth? Once you've tried it, its impossible to go back to having normal sex; now you have so satiate your depraved urges just like EU does. Congratulations, you're a pervert now!

Let's do even more deviant stuff next time...

[sirwow]

I need to get out my bleeding heart for minecraft because man this game basically created the foundation and growth of my brain however rocky and I need to tell the world because I said so.

This game is a canvas. Not a empty one mind you but a canvas nonetheless. The one presented to all to begin being a world in which they’re left to learn and discover and build or destroy all on their own. Or maybe with a friend, or many. Someone’s first experience with Minecraft likely isn’t picking it up randomly but rather being told tales by others of what they weaved with the canvas they were given.

Weather that person was as quaint to just add a few additions to the canvas; a small wooden house situated inside a cool looking cave with some silly story about a creeper and a fire. Or if this person was someone you don’t really know but they put themselves out there to show their work to the world. A completely blank canvas with only one block? Why not? A downright ridiculous looking building with the sole goal of getting melons? Sure.

These stories and art is what makes this game so special. Something so stupid and mundane like a bunch of 1 block jumps with a goofy voice over and sound effects can still be such a great and beautiful thing with heart and care. We can’t understand every work but damnit I have respect for every last aspect and one. The depths of this game truly allowing everyone have some place, from leisure to mastery. I can not mention everyone but I will cover the broad strokes and their wonders.

Firstly to the builders of Minecraft. You are the forefront and most clear of your art. It is art within the most literal sense of the word, weather it is a building with intricate detail in every crevice and corner thought out meticulously. Or those of the larger then ourselves works. Organic mythical works of dragons, people, animals and more. Builds only made to be viewed once at one angle akin to a real painting. The recreations or creations of yours dreams and hopes. Or even just the humble home and village to create a story of as you survive. Creative, builders tools, survival, challenge play throughs. You’re all artists.

Redstoners. Though siblings of builders, your work lays in numbers, timing, mechanical works. Fixing issues you created for yourself when trying to achieve a goal. It may just be making the fastest door, or the largest and you’d still manage to break so many boundaries with time. Or it is those beyond my personal comprehension. You make machines capable of manipulating the behavior of the game itself by going through the cracks found over the decade of redstone. As much as it is wizardry to myself I wish someday to learn this as well if I ever choose to go down such a path. However as of now my eyes are set on another unexpected and undermined path that is next.

PVP. One much loathed by those outside it and I am guilty of such for almost a decade but as now Iv become knee deep in the waters of it myself I also see how it’s an art. Maybe more in the martial sense as obvious but it’s still very impressive what I see and understand in it now. The functions beyond “swing sword good”; a much deeper phycological game aspect to it then seen outside and understanding the intricacies of mechanics you generally give little thought to playing normally. Just how much health does each weapon do- crit or not. How fast can a crossbow reload, watch your sprint or you might just lose. On and on. Iv gained a lot of respect for it.

Parkour. Get your parkour civilization jokes out of the way- this is probably the MOST fundamental part of the game and I find it downright magical what can be done with it. I realize I’m saying that a lot but it’s 1 am shh. Anywho it’s got all its ins and outs. The ice parkour, neos, fences, drip leaf, combined redstone and timing, trapdoors and more. I’m missing about 50 here but that just goes to show how deep it is.

Off of parkour comes our good friend Speedrunning!!! Dedication and time in its most raw. Triangulation for college? Wrong! Block game. It’s a mental load to take on and the aspect of random chance and taking everything on your shoulders is persistence and patience.

And the best part of all of this? They all come together in their own ways for hundreds nay thousands of ways to play. All without touching on the deep deep well that is servers. Skyblock players, pvpers, ice boaters, niche specialists games (Cops v Crims, Bedwars, party games, tower defense, MMORPGs, one in the quiver for my old chums out there, ect) you all have my undying interest and respect in the details and depths of what you love.

So now you have the little canvas before you. Make what you wish no matter how bad. No one will create something identical to what you choose and it’s your story to paint- no matter how lame, small, boring, bad, or ugly you might claim it to be. I want it to still be made and for you to explore whatever depths you choose. Weather that be the simple literal ones, finding a neat cave or what have you, or finding a passion buried under the rubble.

And me? I guess I’ll keep doing my thing of watching and learning about all the silly little corners this game has and mastering what I can even if that takes another decade to do. The universe loves me and it loves you too, go and create.

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love

d.r.w. x f!reader

My first post on tumblr, but definitely not my first fic. Danny's cruise picture had this story pouring out of me, so I hope you all like it! I thought this first chapter would be longer than it is, but the next part of the story deserves its' own chapter.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: After 3 mundane months of working on a cruise ship, you're met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

Warnings: plenty of swooning, language and brief mentions of f masturbation.

You sigh as you zip up the back of your fitted black dress. Another night, another performance. You love being an entertainer, and sitting behind the keys is as close to home as you can get on this ship, but after 3 months of your 8 month stretch, it is starting to feel so redundant, and there are only so many songs that are approved to perform at the piano bar. The boss wasn’t too pleased with your medley of LL Cool J songs with an audience consisting of mainly 50-80 year olds. Tight ass. 

“Just three more nights and you get a break,” you reassure yourself as you touch up your makeup in the pathetically tiny mirror that looks huge in this shoebox of a bathroom. 

“Alright girl, I’m off,” you say to your slightly-less-than-pleasant bunk mate. It could be worse, but it would have been nice to bunk with someone who actually seemed to give even half a fuck about you. At least she wasn’t mean. Just…distant. 

“Kay,” she replied with enthusiasm akin to a corpse, not bothering to look up from the sketch she was working on. You sighed again, feeling like you’ll never be able to chip away at that wall. You didn’t come here to make friends, but damn, a little human connection would be nice sometimes. 

– – –

Your body shuddered as you threw back a shot of tequila at the bar. “Thanks, Chris,” you said to the bartender-one of the few people who will have an actual conversation with you. He winked before flicking his eyes over to a young, classically hot dude. Boyish features, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair…you get it, but definitely not your type. 

“Down boy,” you say with a chuckle as you wink back at him. 

Settling down at the keys, the audience gives you a small applause as the chatting dies down. 

“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” you ask the small crowd, mustering up as much enthusiasm as you can. You get a small cheer, and a few whoops from the more inebriated folks. “You mind if I play a few songs for you?” A louder cheer encourages you as your hands start to dance across the ivory keys. 

Ooh you can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

Ooh, see that girl

Watch that scene

Digging the dancing queen

The crowd sings along with you-definitely one of the more tone-deaf groups you’ve played for, but at least they seem to be having fun. Dancing Queen is always a good opener, and one of your favorites, so you prefer to start the shows this way. 

The crowd cheers as you segue into your next number. People are getting tipsier with each song, and you have to admit, it is pretty entertaining. Drunk crowds are typically great audiences unless they get belligerent. 

“Alright, it’s been a blast playing for you all tonight,” you say as you start the intro to your final song.

I needed the shelter of someone’s arms

And there you were

I needed someone to understand my ups and downs

And there you were

WIth sweet love and devotion–

Holy shit. Who is that guy? A tall, dark, and handsome man emerged into your view after an elderly couple left the table in front of his. You miss a note and snap back into focus through the chorus. What the hell? Why is some random-admittedly gorgeous-dude throwing you off? That’s new. You make it through the second verse, but after that it’s impossible to not steal another glance. Your knees get a little shaky as you drink him in, thankfully keeping your shit together in your performance. You watch him sing along as he drums his fingers on the little bistro table. You realize you glanced a little too long once he smirks at you, locking eyes. You blush red and avoid the entire corner of the room where he is sitting for the rest of the song. Oh God, how embarrassing.  

The crowd cheers as the song ends and you take a bow before immediately walking back over to the bar…which, unfortunately, is far too near the gorgeous man in the corner. 

“One more tequila, please, Chris,” you say anxiously as he chuckles. 

“Little flustered there, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have anything to do with that yummy Greek statue of a man there in the corner would it?”

“Shut up, Chris,” you whisper, your face turning redder by the second. 

“Mmhmm, okay. Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk before walking to the other end of the bar serving the influx of post-performance guests. 

Walking out of the room, you make it maybe ten feet before realizing you left your phone behind the bar. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, debating on walking back now or waiting until the crowd clears in hopes of avoiding the gorgeous creature who made you pathetically weak in the knees. 

“Oh, come on, he is just a man. Get the fuck over it,” you mutter again, rolling your eyes at yourself. You turn around and make it one step before slamming straight into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” you both say in unison as large, warm hands wrap around your shoulders, steadying you. Of-fucking-course. 

“Oh, no worries!” the insanely beautiful man replies, dropping his hands from your shoulders. The summer breeze feels colder than it had before as your whole body flushes. 

“Oh-um-yeah, okay,” you sputter out with a nervous smile. Good God, get your shit together. 

He chuckles, “Your performance was great. We loved it,” he says warmly as a beautiful, tall, brunette woman walks up next to him. Of course. There’s no way this man could be single. It only makes sense that he would have one of the most staggeringly gorgeous women on his arm. 

“Yes, it was lovely!” she chimes in, hooking her arm through his as she reaches out a hand to shake yours. 

“Oh, thank you!” trying to stay as cool as possible and not show your disappointment, you shake her hand and flash a smile. 

“I’m Josie, and this is my brother, Danny,” she introduces. 

Oh. Brother. He’s her brother. The relief you feel is embarrassing and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You sense it does, based on the tiny smirk Josie is clearly trying to hold back. 

“Nice to run into you,” Danny says with a chuckle, reaching his hand out to shake yours as well. He holds your gaze for just a moment longer than you expected. Just long enough for your breath to catch as you get lost in his dark hazel eyes��flecks of gold, brown, and green-the warmest eyes you’ve ever seen. He flashes a bright white smile that makes your chest tighten. 

“Yeah, uh, you too,” you reply with a nervous giggle, your voice barely shaky. Oh my God, you are so fucking embarrassing. 

“Come on, Dan. We’re late meeting mom and dad,” Josie says, leading Danny down the hallway. “Nice meeting you!” 

“Yeah, you too!” You stay glued in place for a moment, watching them walk away. Damn, the back looks just as good as the front. Danny turns around at that moment, catching you staring. He smirks and winks before turning back around, disappearing as they turn a corner. 

“Real smooth, you idiot,” you sigh, tossing your head back before walking back into the bar. 

– – –

You got almost no sleep that night, and it infuriated you. Losing sleep over a man you barely met. Get a grip…but, those eyes-such a warm hue, long lashes, smooth, tan skin, he had a little dusting of freckles on his cheeks and angular, almost avian, nose. His features were masculine and sharp, with a jaw that could probably cut glass, but his kind eyes and heart-melting smile made him seem so…soft. You could tell he was a man who wasn’t afraid to do some grooming and pampering. With skin like that and shiny, dark brown, perfect ringlets of hair long enough to barely brush his shoulders…yeah, he put some effort into his appearance. His demeanor didn’t seem cocky or vain, though. Confident, sure, but not full of himself. Ugh, and then that body. 

“Oh, come on,” you say exasperatedly to yourself as you roll over for what was probably the 20th time, trying to relax. “You’re not 13 years old. For God’s sake, you are 25. Act like it.” 

You take a deep breath and relax one muscle at a time, feeling the gentle rocking of the ship lulling you to sleep. You start to drift off and the image of Danny turning around to wink at you jolts you awake again. 

“What the hell? May as well just stop fighting it,” you say defeatedly, letting your mind drift off to Danny with no resistance. You close your eyes again as you try to remember every detail. His sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, slender hips and legs, but you could definitely see the muscle definition under those tight black jeans. You let out a little giggle as you remember the cheesy little shark tooth necklace dangling on his collarbone, just above a small patch of black hair dusted on his sternum. His short-sleeved top was unbuttoned just below his pecs, leaving the rest of his torso up to your imagination. You find yourself imagining how it would feel to run your hands over his warm, undoubtedly hard, stomach before smoothing them around to his back, running up to his sturdy, broad shoulders. You know what would help you sleep, but even alone in your bunk, you’re embarrassed that seeing this man for a few moments would cause you to slip your hand into your shorts. You wonder if you had met him earlier in the day it would have given you time to shake it off. Maybe take a run around the 7th floor track that wraps around the ship on the deck. But for now, you need sleep, so you do what needs to be done. Thank God your bunkmate is working the overnight shift. It only takes a few minutes before you finish with a soft sigh, drifting off to sleep seconds later. 

– – –

Hard as you tried, you can’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment when Danny doesn’t show up at the next night’s performance, and you feel pathetic for that. This is a huge ship. It’s impossible to do even half of the activities offered, so why would he come to the same show twice? To see you? Come on, girl. Get real. The self-loathing is bubbling up inside you as you attempt to exhaust yourself by running seven miles. Does it work? Absolutely not. You’ve never felt so electric and energized. Any other time you would have been grateful, but not now. Not when, despite your exhaustive efforts, you still find yourself relieving that ache in your core before drifting off to sleep. 

Rolling out of bed the next morning, you feel a bit better. The exhaustion from your run the day before caught up to you, and your legs feel like they are on fire. Thank God. Despite the pain, you brush your teeth, throw your hair in a bun, and slip on a tank top, shorts and running shoes, making your way to the 7th floor. Maybe after today’s run you won’t even think about him when you fall into bed tonight. 

A small smile forms on your face as you close your eyes, feeling the sea breeze enveloping you as you step through the double glass doors onto the deck. Most people you know prefer to run out on forest trails, feeling the crunch of leaves and soft dirt under their feet, seeing the sun filter through quaking aspens, hearing songs from morning birds harmonizing together. You love it too, but the power and energy that the ocean offers can’t be beat. You start off with a slow jog, warming up your aching muscles, before finding your stride. You feel as if the ocean is running alongside you, the waves matching your pace. You finally start to feel like you’ve found your footing again-literally and figuratively. After your first lap you see a few more people making their way onto the deck. Most come out for a nice walk, just enjoying the view they don’t get to see often. You see a sweet old couple, moseying along hand-in-hand. Just walking silently. Comfortably together. This is a common sight around here, but you feel a bittersweet sort of heartache for just a moment before someone whizzes right past you. 

Long legs, narrow hips, mess of dark chocolate curls tickling those broad, tanned shoulders with each step, the navy blue muscle tee giving you a much better view of those shoulders as they flex and move in tandem with his strong, lean legs. Legs that he clearly enjoys showing off based on the yellow shortie-shorts he’s sporting. You increase your pace with a surge of adrenaline, but also so you can get as close as you can to the view. As he reaches the curve of the track at the front of the ship, he looks over his shoulder at you, grinning before picking up his pace. Is he…challenging you? Oh, it is so on. You weren’t an all-state track star for nothing. You grin and take a deep breath, pushing yourself faster, the excitement dulling the burning pain in your thighs. Danny hears you round the corner as you catch up to him, chuckling through his steady, heavy breaths. You’re not letting those long, sculpted legs have an advantage over you. Ignoring the burn in your chest, you surge forward faster, eventually passing him. Looking over your shoulder you catch him staring at your ass. He quickly looks away and out at the ocean. If you weren’t puffing and panting so hard, you’d probably giggle, but it’s all you can do to stay focused and not let him catch up to you. You both run another lap, taking turns being in the lead before you both give up and just run at a steady pace next to one another. 

“Okay, I give up,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’re good! How long were you running before I came out?” You couldn’t help but shiver slightly hearing the deep timbre of his voice between his panting breaths. 

“Oh, just barely over a lap,” you reply, doing your best to not sound like you’re dying, and failing miserably. 

“Safe to say this is something you do often?” He runs the back of his hand down his neck, wiping off a bead of sweat that rolled from his chin down over his prominent Adam’s apple. 

Taking a big gulp of air that had nothing to do with your exhaustive run, you wipe sweat from your brow and try not to stare at his neck and shoulders glistening in the sunlight. “No, this is my first time,” you say as seriously as you can manage. 

“Are you joking?!” he asks incredulously. 

A laugh bubbles up at the sight of his adorably confused and surprised expression. “Absolutely. I’ve been running basically my whole life.” Your breathing is finally starting to slow along with his, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders still exaggerated, but not as fast. 

“Oh, thank God,” he replied, flashing that bright smile, your breathing picking up again ever so slightly. 

“Bit competitive, huh?” You walk over and grab a couple of towels and water bottles from the recently restocked shelf. 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You hand him a towel and bottle and he immediately chugs half of the water, a tiny bit of it running down his chin, the small stream of cool liquid mixing with the sweat on his neck, traveling down his protruding Adam’s apple again. “Thank you,” he says, wiping his brow with the slightly scratchy fabric of the generic beach towel. 

“Oh, yeah..uh, you’re welcome,” you awkwardly sputter, yet again embarrassed by the reaction this man is getting from you for basically just existing. 

He drops his head, clearly trying to be a gentleman and hide his knowing smirk. After a brief awkward moment he looks out at the water. “Bet this never gets old, does it-getting to run with the waves every day?” 

“Never,” you reply, with a contented sigh. “The ocean is the best running buddy I’ve ever had, no offense,” you giggle. 

He chuckles back at you, “None taken. I totally understand. I wish I could do this every day.”

You both saunter over to the railing and lazily lean over the smooth, wooden bar. 

“Well, they’re basically always hiring here. Want a job?” you ask with a chuckle. 

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies, his large hands gripping the rail as he leans back slightly, enjoying the breeze. His damp curls already drying from the salty air. 

“This sea breeze is really the only thing that could do any tempting. Cruise life behind the scenes isn’t very glamorous. I’m sure whatever you’re doing now is better than this.” 

“Maybe so. Depends on the day.” 

“So, what do you do?” you ask, turning around to lean your back against the railing as you take another sip of water. 

“Danny! I thought you said you were going to wait for me?” Josie bursts through the glass doors, looking irritated. “Oh hi!” she says, flashing a bright smile-very similar to her brother’s-at you. “It’s good to see you again. You want to join us on our jog?” 

Josie is so bubbly and bright. She has that magnetic energy that people are just naturally drawn to. Matched with her staggering beauty (that clearly runs in the family), you imagine that there are plenty of unsuspecting people out there who have been left in a haze by her presence. You find yourself just a bit jealous of whatever genes run in that family.

“Oh, thank you for asking, but I actually just finished up here. I don’t think I have another lap left in me,” you chuckle, finishing off what’s left of your water. “Not after kicking this guy’s butt,” you giggle nodding your head in Danny’s direction. 

“Excuse me?” he retorts, “I do believe that it was a tie,” he laughs. My God, he has the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard-kinda dorky, actually, and you are so glad this Greecian god has been humanized a bit, even if it did make your heart ache more for him. 

“I believe you,” Josie loudly whispered to you with a wink, “and thank you for tiring him out a bit. Now I can outrun him,” she laughed before bolting down the track. 

“Oh come on, sis! That’s not fair!” he called out, running after her. After a few strides he slowed down and turned around, running backward, “It was good to see you again!” 

You watched him run down the track, frozen in place again, until he turned the corner. 

“Guess I’ll be losing more sleep tonight,” you mutter with a sigh before walking inside to take an ice cold shower.

LOTS more Danny in the next chapter, I promise. I'm a slow-burner.

Go to Chapter 2

@spark-my-nature

[crimsondinnerparty]

Angst filled Harrigram fic 🤍🗡️

(if you love vulnerable Hannibal, I think you will love this fic)

Title : Fading Reflections~

Summary : Hannibal Lecter waits in his glass cage, grappling with the absence of Will Graham and the news of Will’s marriage to Molly.

— Hannibal Lecter’s world was reduced to a pristine, transparent box—a glass cage that allowed no privacy, no reprieve from the prying eyes of those who came to observe the monster within. The bright fluorescent lights were ever-present, their harsh glare cutting through the dim hours like a constant reminder that he was always being watched, always being judged.

He spent his days surrounded by silence, his books, and the weight of time that felt heavier with every passing moment. It was as though the very air inside his cage was thinner, sharper, designed to pierce his composure and strip away the calm façade he wore like armor.

Today was no different. His back was straight, his posture impeccable as he sat in his chair, a book open on his lap. But his eyes were not on the page. They were fixed on the glass before him, staring into the reflection of a man who appeared serene, yet inside, every thought was a sharpened knife.

The news of Will’s marriage had reached him like a whisper on a cold wind, the kind that chills the bones and leaves an ache that never quite goes away. Will had moved on. Will was free.

And Hannibal? He was here. Trapped. Contained. Displayed like a prized exhibit in a twisted museum of horrors. He had once fantasized about Will’s life without him—a mundane existence that would eventually drive him back. But now, reality had painted a far different picture. Will had not simply moved on; he had found something Hannibal could never give him—normalcy, safety, the warmth of another’s touch.

The thought twisted something deep within Hannibal, an unfamiliar bitterness that burned slow and unyielding. He had never considered himself jealous. What he and Will had transcended such petty emotions. But this—this was not what he had expected.

"Will Graham, married," he whispered to the empty air, his voice soft and tinged with something dark, something akin to longing. He let the words linger, tasting them like a fine wine, though they left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

It wasn’t jealousy. No, it was far more insidious. It was the sense of being forgotten, discarded like an old plaything, no longer needed or desired. For all their games, their dances around each other’s psyches, Hannibal had never anticipated this—a life where Will did not need him at all.

He stared at his own reflection in the glass, searching for answers in the cold, unfeeling eyes that stared back at him. He was both the prisoner and the warden, locked away in a cage of his own making, far from the man who had once understood him in ways no one else ever could.

Hannibal had always seen himself as the architect of Will’s pain, the maestro of his emotional symphony, carefully crafting each note of chaos and destruction. But now, in the sterile stillness of his glass cage, he realized he was no longer the conductor. Will’s life was moving forward, playing a tune that Hannibal could no longer influence or hear.

The ache deepened, though Hannibal would never admit it aloud. The thought of Will sharing his life, his bed, his heart with someone else felt like a betrayal far greater than any wound Hannibal had ever inflicted. It was not because Will had found happiness—it was because he had found it without him.

He closed his book with a slow, deliberate movement, the sound of the pages meeting echoing faintly against the glass. He could not reach through these walls, could not manipulate the pieces as he once had. He was left with only the memory of a man he had lost and the agonizing realization that for Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter was nothing more than a ghost—a lingering specter of a life he had left behind.

And so Hannibal waited, in his glass cage, knowing that this was his punishment—not the bars, not the guards, not the endless scrutiny of his captors, but the silence. The absence of Will’s voice, of his mind, of his soul. A silence that echoed louder than any scream ever could.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Okay! So, is there an RPG that's more rural, like farms and fields, windmills and carts, swamps and forests, but also still like big monsters and magic? Vibes wise, something akin to Amphibia the show, or Atomicrops the game. I'm sure one could just repurpose any regular RPG to make a world like that, but I'm curious :3c

THEME: Farming Plus

Hello friend, so I have a few games here that feel at least slightly fantastical, as well as a game that definitely works as a post-apocalyptic kind of game, although I don’t think any of the games listed here have the cartoonish-ness of either Apmhibia or Atomicrops. My main goal was to find games that felt like they communicated a slice-of-life style of game, while making room for a setting that feels outside of our normal experience. I hope you still find something that works for you!

Take Root, by katykoop.

You've achieved the dream! You have a farm, in a cool place full of forests and the mysterious dungeon keep, and there is the promise of glory-- with a festival at the very end of the year. Play against several farmers, with a world master controlling it all, to win by having the most points in your farm display. 

Each season is condensed into 9 days,  with harvest on the 4th and the 8th. Unlock cool items through random events with NPC's, buy livestock, and traverse the dungeons of Dungeon Keep. 

This is take root. 

Take Root is a very procedural game, with each player responsible for their own farm, which they are tasked with caring for until harvest and the bringing of your fruits to market. The phases of the game are (predictably) sorted into 4 seasons with 9 days in each season, with two market days per quarter of the year. Different seasons have different basic crops, and certain items are more valuable than others.

However, you’re not just farming in Take Root - you’re also venturing into dungeons, and trying to romance select NPC’s. Diving into the Dungeon Keep is dangerous, but could have you coming away with rare items that give you money for seeds or items that allow you to fulfill mini quests - such as wooing the love of your choice, for example. The end of the game results in a winner - the player with the highest accumulated points, acquired through selling items, adventuring, and romancing NPCs.

All in all, Take Root is streamlined and simple, and yet manages to combine both dungeon delving and farming into one neat little brochure.

Farmtasy Simulator, by Guanaco Games.

The goal of this game is to build up your farm by managing resources, while dealing with threats both mundane and fantastic. Using cards for the encounters and dice to determine the outcome of actions taken, the player will gain resources and try to figure out how best to use them to continue building their farm. This game is meant to be played with one player and a GM. Farmtasy Simulator can be used as a supplemental mini-game for an on-going fantasy campaign, or as a standalone to enjoy some agricultural fantasy hijinks.

This is meant to be a two-player game, with one player and one GM. The character has dice and five stats with varying modifiers, while the GM has a deck of cards that they will pull from over the course of each year, used to generate encounters that will make the farming difficult. Farmtasy Simulator appears to be primarily designed as an add-on to another game, incorporating farming mechanics into a larger story. I think it might be a neat way to watch time pass for one character who’s trying to settle down and start a farm - perhaps each player takes their turn running through the simulator with the GM, or the GM use this as a mini-session with the only other player available to build their backstory before they went adventuring.

What’s So Hard About Farming?, by K.Petker.

This is a game about working on a farm and dealing with the triumphs and hardships of such a life.  It might not be any kind of farm or farmers you’re familiar with, but the connection to the growing green and the earth is still there.  Regardless of the season, there’s work to be done.  And things might get a little weird.

I don’t own this game, but my experience with What’s So Cool About…..? games is one of light rules and plenty of freedom to let you take those rules where you like. What I expect from this game is just enough rules to give you a reason to roll dice, and the rest of the world is up to you.

On the plus side, this means that if you want to farm in a swamp, or in a post-apocalypse… well, you can do that! On the downside, the experience won’t fundamentally change according to to the setting unless you decide to do a bit of game design yourself, which is a delightful challenge for some, and an unnecessary amount of labour for others, so take from that what you will!

Mectors, by Harper Jay.

After the war, thousands upon thousands of bipedal mechanized fighting vehicles (or “Bimechs”) were left scattered across the land. Many were brought back to the capital cities to be repaired or scrapped, but the majority of them were too damaged to be easily transported. With the war won, the victors simply left their mechanical refuse in the battlefields to rust and wither. 

In Mectors, players take on the role of a farmer, miner, fisher, carpenter, or some other worker in a labor intensive field. Mector Owners come from all kinds of backgrounds. Some own a Mector that’s been in their family for generations. Others came across theirs recently, through purchase or luck. And a rare few have managed to piece their own together using scraps from decommissioned Mectors, but this is even harder than it sounds. No matter how they got it, they now have a powerful tool with a long history.

I’ve recommended Mectors before for a similar request, and I think it definitely holds up as a great option for a fresh take on the slice-of-life farming sim - because it involves mechs! The setting is post-war, in a country that has learned to beat their technological swords into highly efficient plowshares - and the troubles that plague your settlements are less sinister and just the problems of a small community, such as the mushroom fungus spirit who is willing to guide lost travellers out of the cave, but also can’t seem to stop herself from feeding them mushrooms that also leech away their memories. If you want to tell stories about people solving everyday problems, set in an agricultural setting that’s wholly divorced from our own, I recommend Mectors.

Weeds in the Waste, by Megan Cross.

Weeds in the Waste is a solo storytelling game about tending a garden in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Determine the state of your wasteland, create your gardener, plant your seeds, and tend your garden as you play through the seasons in the wastes. It is a narrative, storytelling game played using 2d6s and a 6x6 grid, as well as a series of prompts. 

As primarily a solo game, much of the tone and pace of Weeds in the Waste is set by you, the singular player. This includes describing how the world ended, and how your garden started, as well as what kind of gardener you are. The game moves through different phases for every season, indicating what parts of your hard work pay off, and what parts are unfruitful.

The end game (and reflection phases) revolve around what withers, and where - which I think is truly reflective of the post-apocalyptic themes in this game. Try as you might, the current conditions of the wasteland can only be so fruitful, and you will have to learn how to live with a drastically reduced yield in comparison to the work that you’ve put in.

There are also rules for multiple players of Weeds in the Waste, so you can also make this a collaborative effort, answering the questions together, and strategically planting your crops as best as you can.

I’d Also Recommend….

My Small Town Farming Recommendation Post (some overlap with this one)

Grandpa’s Farm, by Tyler Crumrine.

Iron Valley, by M.Kirin.

[mesetacadre]

what types of benefits does legal struggle (as opposed to illegal struggle) have for the Party?

The first type of benefits, and the most obvious ones, are the ones related to the bureaucratic and most purely administrative elements of its activity. Since the Party can exist as a legally registered entity within bourgeois law, it is, theoretically and often practically, recipient of the same benefits afforded to bourgeois parties. The extent of this is obviously never the same, since the Party is missing the financial support structures which are behind basically every other party, but the ability to contest in elections just like any other party, for example, both acts as a very natural megaphone for its program and, in the case of a smaller Party, it can serve as the first step to achieving legitimacy in the eyes of the broader working class. Another, more mundane example is the ability to, as a legalized and legitimate organization to the eyes of the state's bureaucracy, make use of the common spaces often put at disposal by local authorities, participate in local festivals or events, dealing with publishers/printing houses, that sort of thing.

Another type relates to the limits imposed on the activity of the Party and its general development. A situation of legality means that, save for the occasional attempt at non-aggressive infiltration (that is, with the purpose of collecting information rather than destroying it) which are easily avoided with a decent dem-cent structure, the Party is spared the state's explicit repressive bodies and functions until, of course, it violates the bounds of legality to such a degree that it can't go undetected and ignored. So generally speaking, the Party's activity is, in the context of legality, more constrained by its own resources than by any oppressive mechanism, and can therefore grow without constraint. And, apart from the full range of activity observed within legality, it is not only possible but necessary to overstep those boundaries:

Any Communist Party that claims or aims to be a revolutionary vanguard should be comfortable with, at all times that is necessary, going beyond what the law allows to maximize the political efficacy of certain campaigns. Being able to navigate legal voids and dangerous situations deftly, with set security protocols and countermeasures, also acts as a "hardening" experience for the individual militants. If we take illegality/persecution to be the adulthood of the Party, then these kinds of actions where the law is broken consciously and with purpose can be understood within the life cycle of a party to be akin to the animals that practice hunting/surviving via play, in mostly controlled situations. "Practicing" illegality when your activity is not generally defined by illegality both keeps the Party from straying into reformism or legallism, and it prepares the individual militants and the Party structures for the situation of illegality that, sooner or later, will come.

And the context of legality also makes the purposeful overstepping of its own boundaries easier, since the Party is not under heavy oversight or already repressed, these actions, when performed rationally and carefully, can very easily slip by undetected or not suppose enough of a problem that the cost-benefit ratio of cracking down on this activity is not worth it for the state. No half-competent bureaucrat of a regional police department is going to create a taskforce to go after the commies putting banners where they shouldn't, you know? Legality also has its drawbacks of course, but that's another subject :+)

Summed up: In a context of legality, it is easier to do basically anything, including breaking the law, and including the preparation for when the context of legality inevitably ends.