#to be clear: I am still not GOOD at rhythm games

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

been bedridden and using my tablet to complete dailies in Genshin and like damn, I didn't realize rhythm games were so much easier on a touch screen until Mr. Itto's wild ride wasn't shit

[giantkillerjack]

Junji Ito makeup test #1

OR

Figuring out what I need in order to create a music video parody of the song "Gloria" by Laura Branigan, but make it about Tomie. I will be playing the part of a 1980s pop disco singer in the style of Junji Ito. This is high art in progress, people! 😘😂😅

photos of first test:

additional digital notes made using Clip Studio:

main takeaways:

So first off, where the fuck did my stage makeup go??? I had no idea it was missing until today!! I ended up using the makeup from when I used to perform as a mime. (Not a joke, but in a larger, cosmic sense, kind of a joke. 😆 I'll probably do it again sometime. I was adorable as a little soft butch gay mime!)

I now remember why I stopped using the dry cake face paint and switched to wet paint in a tube BUT I CANNOT FIND THE TUBESSS

I'm out of eyeliner in general, but for this, I need some kind of extra thin/fine eyeliner and preferably more than a thimble-full of paint for it.

Maybe I can thin out some matte black face paint and also get like a really nice fine brush? I guess it depends on if the paint is water-soluble.

I should probably check to see if I already have these materials, which would be SO MUCH EASIER IF I COULD FIND MY FUCKING STAGE MAKEUP--

Either way the lines need to be super thin, straight, clean, and parallel to each other. Or I could look at the rougher cross-hatching Ito sometimes uses, but I suspect tidier lines will look best with makeup.

Luckily, I already have an entire burlesque/drag act where I make myself look like a character from a black and white film. Between that and the mime thing, I theoretically have all the white gloves I will ever need lol. I guess I'm going to need white leggings, since the light gray ones won't work for this. Junji Ito is not generally greyscale as much as literally black and white.

Do I own makeup primer? I feel like yes. It definitely sounds like a good idea.

I KNOW FOR A FACT I DIDN'T THROW OUT MY STAGE MAKEUP because I had quality skin-safe glitter in basically every color, and only a FOOL would throw that out!!!!

Gloria is a song from 1983 with disco balls in the music video. Do I want to incorporate more style choices from 1983? Should I buy a wig? Something with shoulder pads maybe?? I guess that means I can keep the thick eyebrows...

Actually upon further research, I do need a sequinned shirt for this. Possibly a sequin leotard with a shiny belt. And leg warmers. OH! And a jacket with just the biggest shoulder pads I can find! Or at least the closest thing I can find to this outfit in one trip to a thrift store

Every 1980s music videos seems to have a person with their hair and clothing flowing in the wind. Now, I could buy a fan. But much funnier and cheaper would be a shot of my hair blowing in the wind that then pans to a friend furiously fanning me with a piece of cardboard or something. (Which means I'd need either two people helping with this shot, or I just have to accept that the shot's going to look kind of blurry by doing the zoom-out in post. Oh gods, I would have to write a proper shot list ahhhhhh--)

Honestly, blurry footage seems fine in some parts. I'm probably going to add some dreamy soft filters anyway to make it look like pre-digital 35mm film from an 80s vid.

I'm going to need some fake blood to splatter at me in the middle of the video. Obviously. So I guess that bit will need to be filmed outside.

The good news is the fact that the nearest easiest filming location for me is a alley full of dumpsters is actually really appropriate for this video. XD

Should I do the distressed eyebrows that a lot of Junji Ito characters have? Note to try that in the next test along with a The Crow-like smile. (My go-to high school Halloween costume. Damn, I have been painting my already pasty-pale face even whiter for a while now! 😅)

Other progress made on this project today:

I recorded myself singing a voice memo along to the rhythm of the karaoke version of Gloria that's on YouTube, but in it, I'm singing in the key that is appropriate to my voice. (A couple half-steps down, I think.)

Next step will be to load that clip onto my computer and adjust the karaoke version to match its pitch. And then like, practice the song with my new personalized backing track.

If i actually finish this, I'll have to re-record the backup vocals to say the right name.

Also the next step will be to see if my interest in this lasts long enough to at least get me to find my frickin' stage makeup.

Additional notes:

The original music video for Holding Out for a Hero is exactly the right energy for this, and now I absolutely need shots of me in front of (badly green-screened) flames, on my knees while singing passionately and directly at the camera and presumably wearing kneepads tbh

Omg what if I included a little "photoshoot" sequence and really fucked with the photos to make them all blurry-body-horror nasty as they flash by real quick?? Get like, a glitch effect in the mix hell yeah 😎😎😎

Edit: Omg i just remembered I have these short-shorts with a reanimator quote on the ass! ("Blasphemy? Before what god?") i know what shorts to wear for this now!!

Oh! Another idea! What if the video starts with me reading Tomie and then closing the book and picking up the nearest microphone-shaped thing and using that to start singing - and every 30 seconds or so of footage, it quietly changes to a different item (one of which is absolute the black wand vibrator that I have XD)

Note: I can easily shorten the song if I only have funny shots planned for like 2/3 of the song length. No need to get too repetitive.

[jokeringcutio]

Reader x Stepdad William Afton (Drabble)

AN: You got me there, ANON. All right, here's a very QUICK drabble for you, because I COULDN'T RESIST. MATURE THEMES/NO EXPLICIT SMUT. Just a happy family dinner (well....)

Also, I am overwhelmed with prompt requests and I love them, so do keep 'em coming. But if you want to help me out for reaching my goal to save up to commission a celebratory piece of artwork for this tumblr (as we've almost reached 1000 mutuals following this account :3 ) please feel free to donate me a little something on Ko-fi ♡ ︎.

based on this in my inbox: [ See Reaction to the post here x ]

The clink of silverware against porcelain punctuated the silence, a staccato rhythm that seemed to echo in the cavern of your chest. Across from you, William’s hands were steady as he cut into his steak, but there was something about the tightness in his jaw, the way his blue eyes didn't quite meet yours, that whispered secrets.

"Sweetheart," your mother's voice sliced through the tension like the knife in William's hand through meat, "it's time we talked about a paternity test."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, a wild, frantic thing eager to escape. You swallowed hard, the mashed potatoes on your tongue now tasting like ash.

"Whoever the father is... he deserves to know," she continued, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling beneath her words.

"Of course," you agreed, the word brittle on your lips. Your gaze flickered unintentionally to William, then quickly away, fearing what might be revealed in a single glance.

He cleared his throat, a sound that rumbled deep and low, a prelude to the storm you knew brewed within him.

"It's only fair," he said, but his voice was a masterclass in control, every syllable measured, every intonation practiced.

"You can ring up the boys... see if they're willing." She was all practicality, all motherly concern, not an inkling of suspicion clouding her features. If only she knew…

"Right," you breathed out, the lie sour and heavy in your mouth.

In your bedroom, Evan's chest rose and fell with the innocent trust of sleep. Unaware. Untouched by the deceit that hung thick in the air. The door ajar, otherwise he wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t hear that you were near. As if somehow, your tiny son was aware that he had been born in a house full of dark secrets and possible danger.

Your fingers curled around your glass, the cool surface grounding you. Water, while your parents were drinking wine. Wasn’t your mom still trying for a baby? Had she finally given up now that she saw how it was to be between diapers and the soreness of giving milk?

William's gaze flitted toward the open door where your son lay oblivious to the grown-up games played at his expense.

"Will do it tomorrow," you promised, your voice a whisper of determination laced with dread.

"Good girl," your mother smiled, contentment lighting up her face. But in William's eyes, the reflection of a different kind of pride—a dark, devouring satisfaction—flickered and then died.

You pushed your plate away, appetite lost. While inside your thoughts careened like a runaway train, you tried to remain your compose. Look and act normal. But what would happen when the truth came out? What would happen when the masks fell away?

What would William do?

Because in all honesty, it wasn’t your mom and her feelings you were worried about the most any longer. She had proven time after time again to be there for you, no matter what lies had been told about you. Her two-goody-shoes daughter, suddenly a wild partying animal who had gone and get laid whilst drunk – even if she bought it she faithfully helped take care of you and your newborn son. She was so – so darn sweet! Like an angel sent from the blessed sky. If she’d forgiven you this, then you wouldn’t doubt she would forgive you the truth.

But…

Could you bear her disappointment? Right now? Could you see her so crestfallen and betrayed? Did you want to break that dam and wait whilst pain raked through you both – a pain that only time could mend?

Beside you, William scraped his throat, his thick fingers scraping past your thigh underneath the table. The horny beast. Even now he couldn’t stop touching you.

Shouldn’t he be working on one of his new robot animals? Like that yellow bunny suit he was making to resemble your favorite plushie? With the only difference that it was ten times bigger and build for him to wear?

You tried not to glance at your stepfather, not even when his fingers reassuringly squeezed your already bruised thigh. You gritted your teeth at the soreness – thanks to his latest bout of fucking, of course. The man took his chances whenever he could.

No, the real problem here was your stepfather. William was a tall, strong and dangerous man. His mind worked in ways that only left you guessing. And you had no doubt that he had hurt others in the past before to get exactly what he wanted.

If you wanted to play this game, you had to play it right.

Silently, you vowed to protect Evan from the shadows that lurked behind William's aviator glasses, from the manipulations that twisted beneath his agreeable facade. You would stand between your son and the man who wore danger like a second skin.

"Let's finish up here," your mother suggested, unaware of the battle lines being drawn right before her eyes.

"Indeed," William agreed, and his smile was a predator's grin, hidden in plain sight.

The baby slept on, his dreams untainted by the turmoil that swirled just beyond his reach.

[pedripics]

PEDRI | Interview with RNE - Tablero Deportivo (june 22, 2024) - Translation

Pedro González, Pedri, very good morning. Few moments of Oasis are granted in a competition as short and as tough as this European Championship, but that's how we are on this Saturday. Qualified as first, relaxed, time to recover which is very important.  When it was known that Croatia and Italy were going to be the first two opponents, I imagine that it was difficult to imagine this situation now.

"Yes, it's clear. When you have those two opponents in the group, first you think that you're going to see how it's going to happen, but the truth is that I was confident in the team we had, in how we were going to get there. I think we had played very good games before coming to this European Championship and we are showing that we have a very good level."

Pedri, you don't know, well, I'm sure you're even happier, but you don't know how we're glad to see you so well after such a complicated year.

"Yes, to be honest, I am very happy above all. I have already said that I have worked hard to get here, to be well at the end of the season and I knew that the work was being done and in the end it was going to pay off."

But was there a time when you thought, well, this summer I have a long vacation or did you knew that Luis de la Fuente was going to wait for you until the end?

"Well, the truth is that Luis has always been interested in me, he has called me, I have had conversations with him when I have had setbacks, and he has told me to be calm. And well, there was always the doubt, in case I had another relapse, in case it could happen. But well, yes, I knew that if I worked hard and was well, I knew that I had the opportunity and the confidence of the mister."

I can assure you that this season all the Barça games we've commentated, which are all of them, we've always said the same thing. We ended with the phrase, let's see if in the end Pedri arrives with the best version for the Eurocup because I don't know if you are aware of how important you are for the team's scheme and for this team in general.

"Well, I do feel like an important player, it's clear that all of us who are here are important because it's complicated to decide the list for the coach and, well, until the last moment there were three players who could have been left out and it's clear that it's complicated to come to the Spanish national team, there is a very good level of players and we are seeing that every day we are growing more and more."

I think I told you that we had the opportunity to talk in Qatar in an interview during the World Cup and I told you about it but when we landed in Doha there were some huge posters of players and the one of Spain was your picture, it was the picture of Pedri. I don't know if the profile of Pedri, of the Pedri who came to the World Cup two years ago, is a bit different from the Pedri who today, because of the circumstances, because of the complicated season you've had, has taken you out of the spotlight a bit and that's been good for you, or did you want to give a blow on the table and say, look, I'm the same?

"Yes, exactly. I've always been the same. It's true that there are a lot of people who say that I'm not the same, but it's true that I have to keep getting into a rhythm to reach my best version, which is still to come. And above all, that's what I have to do, work to get my best in the next rounds."

Well, that's what I'm happy about. Because there is one thing that I think worries us all a bit, which is that we have started so well. You know that at the end of tournaments you have to go from less to more and I don't know if you can go any more after the great game the other day against Italy.

"There are a lot of people who say that, for example, you have to lose the first game, you're going to be champion or things like that. But that's what it is. I prefer to win and be more relaxed."

It scares me a lot to go in with nine out of nine. It's like in the Champions League. You say you win everything, then you never win the title.

"Well, I think it will be good for us to get there. Nine out of nine. That's what we're going for. We'll try to beat Albania and have those nine out of nine and then face the last 16."

The thing is that the Albania match. Well, it's good. The coach is going to give others a chance. I don't know if you already know, Pedri, if he has told you and you're going to rest or not. But well, Rodri won't be here because of the cards and there are people who are a little bit injured, it's logical that there should also be minutes for everyone because this is a great group, but there's a long week left for the real match, for the match of the last sixteen…

"Yes, let's see, it's clear that we're all looking forward to the last 16, but we have to focus on Albania. They're a complicated team who have made it quite difficult for the other teams and I remember we played a match against them at Espanyol's ground and they were a complicated team who made it difficult for us. I think we scored in the last few minutes and it's clear that it's not going to be an easy game."

Look, there are headlines after the other day's match against Italy, which I'll confess is one of the best things I've seen in football, not just from Spain but in football for a long time. “The national team dances to the rhythm of Pedri and Fabian. Spain gets gold from Lamine. The flanks with Nico and Lamine destroy an Italy that didn't even show up.”  Are we overdoing it? Are we getting a bit over the top?

"Yes, you've put a bit of magic into it, but well, when you win, it's normal for people to get behind you. We are seeing that a lot more people are supporting us. It's normal that at the beginning they come with more doubts, but well, we try to resolve them on the pitch and that they are with us."

Yes, that's it, that's it, the praise from the press, but for an opponent to say, as was said in the mixed zone, we knew they were better, but not that much better. I don't know if there's a bigger compliment than that.

"No, I don't think so, that the rival you played against says so is the biggest compliment you can have, because on the pitch it's a different experience. It's true that watching a game when you see one team superior to another you see it clearly, but on the pitch, to see that and say it is different."

I imagine the dressing room of the national team in the leisure time, when you're working and you're working, but it's kind of like a flea market and also when you're eliminating each other in ping pong and you're playing pool, well, hey, but there are conversations. Do you talk about this a lot? Hey Nico, you or Nacho, they tell me you're going to leave. Morata and they're throwing you the cane from I don't know where. Do you talk about this a lot?

" No, not really, there aren't many conversations about what our team is about, about the situation that each of us has. But well, sometimes if you ask him what you're going to be next year, how are you going to face it? But the truth is that there are very few conversations. Well, I don't know if the others talk about it, but I've had very few conversations about it."

So, you're not giving us any news with this, are you? Yeah, but I thought so. Hey, and another thing. You're the only national team that has the chance to be the first to win four European Championships, which is great. Are you thinking about these things when you're playing or there's that rumour that we're making good history?

"No, it's clear that we think about it, we've come to Germany to try to win the fourth. But on the pitch, you don't really think about it. You try to win that game however you can and that's it."

Hey, Manu, what a nice guy, very, very nice. The truth is that I see you more relaxed, which is something that is always cool, the season is different, the season is another thing, the selection... I think it changes your face. There are a lot of people you already know, but the atmosphere, everything feels completely different. Well, to begin with, the Federation is completely different from the coach as well, but you notice the joy that the younger players have given and you have very few, you are a kid. Has it changed the team a bit?

"Yes, of course. When young people come, they always try to joke around. When you see Nico and Lamine around, they're always joking and laughing. Fermín is next to them and well, it's different, because then you look, for example, at the other table and you see Nacho, Carvajal. People end up a bit more serious, some are laughing all day, but well, there's a bit of everything and I think there's a great group as I said. I think that's very important and you can see it on the pitch."

Listen, just like a card player, having a lot of options is good for you. For you, who is a playmaker, you look at one side, you see Lamine who is just 16 years old, you look at the other and you see Nico, that gives you life, right? This is playing with two wide-open wingers.

"Yes, it's clear. I think they're different from the wingers we're used to in Spain. They are two daggers on the flanks and well, it's much easier when you turn and see Lamine and Nico or the other ones we have. I think the others who haven't played are also at spectacular training levels and I think they can all do amazing."

Are you going to give Lamine a hand with his homework and stuff? I heard him in an interview the other day saying that he has to take time out for homework and exams and stuff like that.

"Math, I can help him, but if it's my turn in English, I don't know what I can do, hahahahahaha."

Hey, how are you doing with your German? Because I don't know if you've had time to pick up the phone and talk to the new coach. But I'm terrible at German, I have to tell you.

"I'm asking Dani Olmo about the German, but it's quite complicated. I think it's going to be easier for him to learn Spanish than for me to learn German."

If you put it in perspective, in 2021 would you have made a different decision, would you have said hey, look, I'll do this but not this? Or is the illusion of being able to play both tournaments so great that you would?

"If I would be in the same situation right now, in my first year in the elite, so to speak, Barça, Selección, I think I would have gone. I don't think I would have changed anything. Now that I have done it, because of what has happened, it happened, I got through it, I live and moved on to the next thing."

To finish this off. Do you have time to do something else? Discover the places you go to? In Italy, they have this controversy because they won't let them play the Play.

"We don't have time to go and discover the areas and things like that before the games and the free time, so to speak, we spend it playing the Play or watching the games. Now, for example, with Dani Olmo, I'm playing a tennis game on the Play and we spend a lot of time there."

Well, well, well, I like that. Well, the last one who sat in that chair (de la Fuente), the one you're sitting in right now. What a scolding he gave me when I told him that we lacked some of these stars, but what a good team we have, right? He called me a figurehead. Do you think Pedri is a star? Yes, yes, yes. Dani Olmo. You too. Yes. Can I say that or not?

"Well, of course they are. For me, the players in the national team are stars. They are all, apart from being spectacular teammates and spectacular people, they are cracks on the pitch."

Very good. So, this is as far as we've got with Pedri because time is running out. It's a pleasure to share a few minutes with you Pedri and let's see if there are still many weeks of competition ahead. A big hug. Pass it on to the team and thank you because you are making us enjoy it. Listen, it will end however it ends, but we're having a great time and that's priceless, my friend.

"De Nada. Let's hope we give the fans more joy and thank you very much."

[ghost-of-kurdt-haunts-my-room]

I had been waiting patiently for some time now. I used to struggle so much with sitting still, but Miss Carniscia makes it so easy. All day, little instant messages sent to the chatbox in my peripheral vision, love notes and commands for what to do next. Some of them are automated, I think, reminders to eat and take my medication, but plenty are handwritten just for me. She keeps me warm and fuzzy, sending me messages calling me cute, and telling me all of the… the things she’s going to do when she gets home… I can’t help but rub my thighs together. I know she’s very aware of the effect she has on me, and that only makes me more excited. I don’t answer much, other than short notes back. I get too flustered, and I can’t think good… clearly. I can’t think clearly.

I blink and move to the medicine cabinet like she says, taking out the pills she leaves me and swallowing. She could give me all of my doses herself, but she knows I like the schedule and the independence. Because I am independent, even if she has me living here until I can get back on my feet. I even signed those stupid “Floret” documents, just so I could get some better implants. Plus, it made her happy, and I really like Miss Carniscia. But, she’s assured me many times, as soon as I’m ready to be independent, I just have to step out of the front door. Then we can keep dating on equal footing. Like it should be.

Well, regardless, I took my lunch meds and ate some food, and I don’t have much else for today… I sit down in front of the door. The text readout in the corner of my eye says something, and I have to focus to read it.

-] Waiting by the door like a good little puppy… So adorable

-] xoxo. Good girl.

I feel a shiver run down my spine as I read it, and I feel that tingling metallic sensation when you start salivating heavily coat my mouth. I hate it when she teases like this. My hand wanders unconsciously to that spot between my thighs, the little miniskirt she keeps me in tented up embarrassingly… When I get an idea. Revenge.

I pick the little miniature device, no larger than the head of a pin, from behind my ear and toss it into the air. The small object, a camera and AR interface that I use (mostly because I have no pockets), floats and presents a little transparent interface. Camera app, selfie, timer… I strike my most adorable pose, making sure my tented little skirt is clear in frame but not quite centered, and let the camera click.

I hit send.

-] Typing…

My breath catches. The hand between my thighs keeps moving.

-] Naughty puppy. Still quite adorable, though~

-] We’ll talk when I get home. 15 minutes. xoxo.

Miss Carniscia walks up to her hab unit in an exceptionally bright mood. She steps up the three little stairs, built too large for Terrans to climb comfortably without help, walks to her hab unit, and stands in front of the door. She knows I can feel her bio rhythm, can anticipate exactly what happens next. She knows just how much I love it, too. How the wait, the game, the chase itself is addictive. I nibble at my bottom lip and stare at the door handle. I’m not sure if it’s the drug or the anticipation, but I end up drooling like a dog. Finally, finally, the door knob turns.

“Hello, my little petal~ Someone got too excited to wait anymore, didn’t they?”

I respond by pawing at her shins, a beautiful tapestry of leaves and flower petals, a form crafted lovingly in the pattern of a long flowing dress out of the anatomy of a carnation. I whine, any semblance of disobedience or pesky independence melted into a puddle of puppy-thoughts. I tell myself it’s the drugs. Of course she’d spike my medication, just to get me all stupid for her, keep me reliant…

“There’s my sweet little girl~... Well, unfortunately for you, my rosebud, you’ve already made quite the spectacle for your Mistress at work. I had to come home just to make sure you wouldn’t get into trouble! Don’t fret though, little one, Mistress has just the solution~”

I shiver in anticipation and nod, excited for what she has in store. The fear of being punished mixes beautifully with the thrill of being owned, only aided by the freedom of knowing I don’t have to pretend to be independent, to be strong. It’s the drugs! And that lets me give in, give in to her- wait, what is-

Miss Carniscia lets a long vine fall from her shoulder, snaking across the ground and slithering up my body. She takes special care to wrap it around my waist, my thighs, slipping under clothes and teasing me where I want it most-- My breath hitches and I shut my eyes tight. The vine wraps finally around my throat, restricting my breath to short, ragged gasps. She forces me head upwards, her hand tangling in my hair and yanking me backwards.

“Isn’t it so much better this way, pet? Mmmm… time for you to earn it, mutt.”

The whimper that escapes my lips is barely audible between choked gasps. She doesn’t bother to pick me up, just walking to the bedroom and dragging me behind her, vine wrapped around my neck as a makeshift collar and leash. I crawl after her as best I can, but stumble multiple times. She’s moving too fast- there’s a step going from the entryway into the hallway, and it’s too big for me to make smoothly. She doesn’t care, pulling me along behind her as I whimper.

“Come on puppy! You can do it, good girl~”

The praise is enough to keep me going. I crawl behind her and finally make it to the bedroom. I silently thank the heavens she doesn’t make me climb up onto the bed, it being as tall as I am. She lifts me and sets me down on the mattress

“Oh, what a good girl you are… Good job, little Petal, time for your reward!”

I sit on the mattress, kneeling in front of her as her form mutates, the leaves and flower petals that make up her beautiful dress morphing into a far more revealing evening slip. The vines around my neck slip down to my wrists and ankles, more long, green tendrils exuding from her body and wrapping me up. She used her hand to grab a collar off the desk, an inefficient gesture. She's being clear enough without speaking: She's going to tame me, at least for tonight.

I look up at her. It's all I can do, look up at her and plead silently. My tongue feels fat and imprecise, lolling and swirling lazily in my mouth without purpose. She laughs at me, gliding back to the bed with the collar in hand.

“You ought to know why I'm doing this.”

I nod.

“Say it, Petal.”

I open my mouth. A small croaking noise comes out as I try to remember how to speak, what muscles to tense or manipulate to form words without jawing at her like a pig. The clumsiness of my face makes me blush, feeling stupid.

“Poor thing. Take your time.”

“I-... I-- I'fve b-ben a bad gur-l…?”

The affini’s face lights up in joy, her face etched with pride and glee.

“Good girl!! That's right, you've been naughty, and now Miss Carniscia has to teach you a little lesson!”

“...I-Izzit gunna hurt?”

“Oh don't worry, petal, nothing you can't handle.”

I find myself nodding and kneeling to her, on my knees and elbows, lowering my head in submission. My thoughts are singular: I've been bad, and I need to be punished. I feel the collar tighten around my neck, and another pathetic noise escapes my lips. Then, the vines lazily wrapped around my arms and legs pull taught and spread me out on the bed, my legs hanging off the side.

“Now be a good girl and count for your Mistress.”

A second of confusion is quickly interrupted by the sharp feeling of a riding crop striking my ass, my skirt lifted up by a vine. The drugs make it hard to speak, but they elevate every light touch into a searing fountain of pleasure on my skin. It's hard to bear the pleasure, much less the pain. Every light strike feels like my body’s being ripped in to pieces, like a flaming hot whip being struck across my backside. I whimper, take a moment to gather my thoughts, and manage to stumble out some speech.

“O-o-one Mistress! I'm s-sorry Mistress!!!”

“Look at that, so obedient… Just how I like you. You didn't even need me to tell you, and you spoke your apology perfectly. Such a smart little puppy!”

The praise makes me nauseatingly happy, like I'll pass out from the sheer pride and joy I feel in my chest. Another strike crashes into me like a school bus.

“AHh- Two, Mistress! I'm s-so sorry Mistress!!”

“Good girl. Three more to go, my sweet flower.”

I bite down on my lip, but before I can fully sink my teeth down she worms a vine into my mouth, wrapping it around the back of my head like a gag. Because of this, I don't try to count the next intoxicating strike. This is a mistake.

After she hits me, she waits. Then, she hits me again. A whimper falls out of me, but the gag muffles it. She hits me again. I'm almost crying now. She leans down, inches, millimeters away from my face, and whispers into my ear.

“You'll have to do better than that, sugarplum. Count. We're still on number three, if you've lost track.”

I look up at her, tears brimming in my eyes, and nod desperately. There's some thing inside of me, some deep, buried fear of being bad, of being abandoned. I can't disobey. I cannot.

As another strike lands across my ass, now reddening and bruising, I try my best to scream through the vines that gag and bind me. The result is completely incoherent, but she seems to understand what I'm saying.

“Much better. Two left, puppy.”

I nod and close my eyes tight, ready to receive the same searing, agonizing pain. I'm not disappointed, feeling another sharp crack against my tender skin. I scream out my answer again, still hopelessly muffled. I thank the heavens and the stars that she's not testing coherence, just obedience.

“That’s four. One more to go, little one.”

The last whip is enough to send me over the edge, desperately crying and begging for mercy through the vines. She leans down, staring at my ruined form with unabashed glee as I whimper and writhe against the bonds, pleading for a shred of mercy.

“Don’t worry, little puppy, we're all done. You were such a good girl for your Mistress, weren't you- Oh look at that, you're so broken you think you have to keep begging! That doesn't mean stop, mutt. Beg for mercy~”

Finay the gag is removed from my face, and the blubbering words that fall out are a clear indication of how far I've gone.

“P-Please Mistress!!! W-won’t do it again, I'll be a good girl I promise!! I p-promise- Pleasepleaseplease-- I- I- I'm nothing- Just a dumb little mutt who gets confused but I'll be good for you- P-please--- N-nothing at the feet of my g-Goddess”

That final word causes her glowing eyes to dilate and her vines to wrap further around my body, her form stretching out and standing tall, her shoulder blades unfurling like great, massive wings, blocking the light from the ceiling, picking my body up like a limp ragdoll.

“Say that last part one. More. Time?”

I nod and stumble over the words.

“N-Nothing!! Nothing at the f-f-feet of my G-Goddess!!”

I see a shiver run through her body- A hunger I don't recognize spreads through every inch of her, and she looks back at me like a predator. Her words fall out as a growl, a deep, inhuman sound rumbling not from her mouth but from down, in the dark crevice of her chest, like her core is speaking straight to me.

“Good fucking girl.”

The vines around my body lay me down on the bed, not even bothering to flip me on my stomach. My heart is beating out of my chest, every nerve ending and vein in my body straining with an overload of input. I feel like my body is drowning in flames of pleasure as she rips off what little clothing I'm wearing. We've been together for months, we've had sex a few times but this… this isn't that. This is something different, something Terrans don't understand.

I think about protesting, about telling her no. I would, just to show I'm not yet hers, but… God it feels so good, it feels so so good and I don't want it to stop- I've already handed her my dignity, I see no point in protecting my freedom now. She speaks to me again, that same deep, terrifying roar.

“I am going to make you mine and you are going to stay that way.”

I whimper something strange and unlike myself, but as soon as I think to question it, I feel a dozen needles entering my stomach.

I was really just writing this so @transbianmuffin and @scribbled-dream could see it first! Gonna post it on ao3 soon but im not a huge fan of ALL the moots seeing my depraved hornyposting

[brainddeadd]

Hello there! This is my first time I am requesting something, but I came up with a Matt Rempe request: You met him some time ago. Your friends and family know you are talking and being friends with a guy, they just don’t know who. Reader is pretty strong with what their goals are and one of those is finish college and go to graduate school in another country. Reader is quite busy all the time and is determinate to achieve their dreams. Therefore they think is not appropriate to have a relationship when they know they won’t be able to commit to one in the meantime. Matt knows this and he tells reader that he will wait, even thought he just confessed. He supports the reader to achieve their goal, reader manages to do it, after some time, Matt kept his word and is still in love with them and they go full on that relationship. You can add the paparazzi craziness after they announce it and the whole thing. Also, Matt is beaming with happiness and can’t stop talking about their future together.

It’s been a wild few years since you first met Matt Rempe.

Back then, your priorities were set like stone: finish college, get into graduate school abroad, and build the career you’d dreamed of for years. Relationships? Not on your list. Even when Matt entered your life with his infectious laugh and endless support, you made it clear: your goals came first, and you weren’t ready to commit. But he’d just grinned at you, his voice warm as he’d said, “I’ll wait for you.”

You’d been skeptical. He had a rising career in hockey, a world brimming with fast-paced action and high stakes. The thought of him waiting was… well, it felt too good to be true. But he did. He checked in on your late nights, even timed calls around your study schedule, often staying up just to hear about your classes and projects, and cheering you on whenever you felt doubts creeping in.

Through grueling exams, applications, and countless sleepless nights, Matt was there, encouraging you. And somehow, that distance between you became the quiet rhythm of your friendship, blooming into a love you didn’t even realize was growing.

When you finally got accepted into grad school overseas, he’d been there on the other end of the phone, practically shouting with joy. He’d told you, “You’re doing it—you’re really doing it!” as if your dreams were as important to him as his own.

Time passed, and every time you returned home, you noticed the way his gaze softened, like he was saving that look just for you. Despite his own growing fame, he never once let his own world overshadow yours. Matt kept his promise.

Finally, after years of late-night talks, shared milestones, and enduring distance, you both knew it was time. No more holding back, no more what-ifs. The announcement took the internet by storm, and the frenzy that followed was unreal. Paparazzi swarmed, trying to get every bit of the story, and suddenly, you were both the latest headline in sports and entertainment news.

But through it all, Matt was just beaming. He couldn’t stop talking about your future together, openly sharing his excitement with anyone who asked. He’d been so patient, and now that he finally had you, he couldn’t hold back. And in his interviews and stories, there was always this glow—like he’d won the biggest game of his life.

“I always knew I’d wait for you,” he told you one evening, his hand resting over yours. "And every minute was worth it.”

Your journey together had only just begun, but this time, it was a love you could fully commit to. And as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering promises about the life you’d build together, you knew that no goal had ever felt as fulfilling as being with him.

[siblingshuffle]

Rockrtober Day 3: Virus

TW: graphic imagery (kinda…? Like allegorical blood.)

I would’ve kept this one’s scene as a script but I feel like it loses its impact without anything to make it into a story.

“Yeah!!” Bass cheered, spinning in his chair as Piano cleared the final obstacles in the stage. Refocusing, he kicked up his feet on the desk and announced, “You’re in the clear! Now, your next opponent is right up ahea—"

Bass’s ventilation backfired directly into the mic, which he quickly muted. When he finally managed to stop, he groaned, optics unfocused as he deactivated Screen Share.

-…Bass?- Piano’s monotonous voice almost sounded concerned over the comms. -Are you operational?-

But Bass didn’t answer. If he were human, he undoubtably would’ve gone pale at the sight of his hand. How had his ventilation backfired with enough force to rupture a fuel line?

-…I am returning to Light Labs if I do not receive an answer within seven seconds.-

That snapped Bass out of it. Immediately, he scrambled to unmute himself. “Uh, nothing to worry about, Pi! Just… that Proto-Dweeb wandered over to the computer. Don’t worry about it!”

The Wily twins didn’t have the Light twins’ ability to sense one another’s emotions, but Bass could’ve sworn he felt Piano’s doubt. He held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

-…You are…certain that you are unharmed?-

Bass released the breath he’d been holding. “I’m fine, idiot. Go kick ***! I’ll keep the First Draft away from the computer.”

-Understood.-

—————

LORE: Ive had a cold since Oct 1 so this is fitting lol. Anyway, during the Roboenza outbreak, the main cast of robotic protagonists ends up dropping like flies. You know, for dramatic tension and stuff. So, here’s the order in which characters fall ill.

Tempo. She got the virus first out of everyone in the main cast. Blues stopped by to see if she could hang out, only for Dr. LaLinde to reveal that she had a virus. Despite this, Blues still wanted to hang out (they both thought it was more like a computer virus than an illness, and joked about how she would make sure not to send him any downloadable content). Her symptoms worsened throughout the visit and into the next few days.

Blues. At first, he mistook his Roboenza symptoms for core-problems symptoms. He woke up feeling more tired than usual, but he doesn’t get a consistent flow of energy usually. He probably just didn’t charge well… Then, he starts feeling all warm. Oh well, maybe he’s doing a little too much & that’s why he’s overheating. But then his vision gets all grainy, and his sunglasses won’t help. Maybe he’s just malfunctioning…? Finally he ended up telling Dr. Light that he wasn’t feeling too good, at which point he collapsed and kicked off the start of the game.

Bass. This one takes place in the early-to-mid-game time period. After Wily ran off to Light Labs, Bass took over Mission Control there and Piano joined Roll and Rock in their objective. When Bass started showing symptoms, he insisted on just handling them himself… That is, until he overheated and was pulled away from the console.

Roll. This follows the same general structure as her sacrifice in the original. She gets sick while at Light Labs, and Blues (a little less lucid) gives the prototype medicine to her. (Bonus: I’m thinking he says a line about it being “his turn to make a sacrifice for her”).

Rock. While he and Roll infiltrate Wily’s castle, he collapses. Roll ends up half-carrying her twin until she can find a good spot to set him down. There’s no more medicine, so Rock is sent to Light Labs to rest. He shows up at the final battle anyway to block Wily’s escape route

Piano. Piano gets sick while infiltrating the castle from the other side. However, she’s built pretty sturdy and it feeds her ego a bit when she ends up fighting pretty well even with her symptoms.

And Rhythm might not even get sick lol

I kinda imagine Dr. LaLinde hearing about Blues getting sick after hanging out with Tempo all day & being like “Rhythm, I’m sorry, I need to keep you out of proximity with your sister”

[bunnyreaper]

kinktober 1 - pegging 

power bottom dom!soap x top sub reader

18+/mdni, f!reader, anal play, degradation/humiliation

you hadn't been the one to bring up pegging, the thought honestly never having crossed your mind--it was all johnny, always the instigator.

in your relationship, you'd always been more on the submissive side, and you didn't want that to change. neither did johnny, which is why the idea had confused you at first, but johnny promised you that you'd enjoy it, that he had everything in hand.

he'd ordered everything on his own and gotten it delivered. bought a strap for you to wear--very approachable in size considering you knew that johnny's experience on the receiving end was limited. little did you know it was part of his game, chosen very carefully for what he had in mind.

one night he makes you put the strap on, yet he's still very much in charge. starts with you down on your knees, taking his cock deep down your slutty, submissive throat to get him all nice and warmed up. he has you choking on it, and as your eyes well with tears you absently wonder if you'll get to return the favour, if you'll get to make him choke on you for once.

his hand threads in your hair harshly, as he forces you down further, to his heavy, cum filled balls as you suck and lick them and worship them, and when he's had his fill, then he moves you down to his hole.

makes you rim him, keeps your head stuck in place while you tongue wildly at his hole, and start getting him prepared for what's to come. you're so confused, just mindlessly getting him wet and hoping it'll all become clear.

he's slow as he guides you through opening him up on your fingers, and you never thought you'd get to see him like this--eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting as you stretch him on your fingers.

but when it comes to you finally sticking the strap in him, his attitude changes once again.

you try your best to adjust to being the one thrusting, but it doesn't come easily nor naturally, your rhythm a stuttery mess. Johnny's expression is anything but pleasured.

"is that how i fuck you, lass?" he snarls at you--his face so disapproving, his voice taunting. "pathetic, you can do better than tha'. make me feel good bonnie."

you whimper and whine as you try to do better, but it's no use. johnny is still so unimpressed, and your failure cuts deep. you're so used to being good for him, to hearing praise spill from his lips that the inadequacy stings, makes you chase his approval even more.

"i can barely feel you, maybe i should've got you a bigger size." he's so cocky, so unaffected, unlike when he fucks you and you're a complete mess. his blue eyes are sharp, seemingly unclouded by lust despite the hard dick pressed against his stomach. "could never be in charge, could yer? could never be me."

he starts to laugh, wicked and mean. "considered getting one of them ones you could feel too, but am glad i didn't, you haven't earned it, bonnie."

he makes you jerk him as you fuck into him, and laughs at your attempts to match the rhythms and make him feel something, but the frustration drives you into trying to do a better job as you fuck him furiously.

it ends in defeated tears, as johnny just throws you off of him like you're nothing, easily overpowering you. he has you pinned, face down, as he climbs over you, palming at your cheeks. "it's alright lass, i'll show you how tae fuck an arse nice and proper, yeah?"

[junkdrawerfics]

Billiards, Bets, and Teasing

Summary: Rooster and you make a bet over a game of billiards because you are unwilling to admit how much you suck at the game. Being a good sport, Rooster helps you out, with a little teasing along the way. (friends to prospective lovers?)

Word Count: 2964

Warnings: None? Things get a little up close and personal, but nothing I write goes past that really.

---

“I hate this game,” you grumble, glaring at the billiards balls as if they had just murdered your father.

“That’s just because you’re bad at it.”

You toss your glare towards Rooster across the table. The man wears a cocky smirk, and if you weren’t so ready to hit him, you could probably admit to how attractive he looks with it.

“I’m not bad at it, Bradshaw.” You definitely are. You most definitely are. “I bet I could beat you any time, any place.” But a little bit of blustering never hurt anyone, right?

Wrong.

“Okay. What are we betting?” Rooster takes a drink from his beer before dropping it on a nearby table and swiping a pool stick from the rack.

You hesitate when he comes to stand next to you, all too aware of how much taller he is than you. You have to tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes, which you do, something stubborn flaring in your chest at the confident glint in his. You may suck, but you won’t go down without a fight.

“What were you thinking?” You prompt, eyes narrowed.

“Loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

A snort escapes you, “What are we, ten?”

“What are you, scared of losing?”

“Psh, no.” You set about racking the balls, mostly so you can break away from his intense gaze. “You’re on, Bradshaw.”

“When I win, I’m gonna make you call me by my real name,” Rooster hums, tossing you one of the stripes.

You perk a brow, mildly unimpressed at his creativity, “Is that really all you want from me?”

“Nope.”

You falter.

What does that mean? You glance up, question ready on your tongue, but it gets lost when you catch Rooster already looking at you, eyes dark and velvet as they trace over your face. Every inch of your skin goes warm under his gaze. It’s like standing in a summer storm, being caught in the middle of Bradley Bradshaw’s attention.

Equal parts terrifying and thrilling.

“You can break,” you whisper, barely concealing how flustered you suddenly feel.

Rooster nods, eyes lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he focuses on the cue ball. You watch him distractedly, the way he poises over the table, how his fingers curl around the cue stick, the slight tensing of his jaw as he focuses.

And with a sharp crack, you realize all too quickly just how epically you’re going to lose this.

You play a few rounds, the atmosphere slowly loosening again as you fall back into familiar rhythms. The moment is all but forgotten as you get swept up in the game. As it goes on, though, it becomes abundantly clear that you are just as bad as he said.

“You know, sometimes it’s smarter to eject than just keep fighting,” Rooster hums, an amused smile pulling at his lips as you duck, rise on your toes, and walk around the table, just looking for a good angle.

“I am not giving up,” you grumble, still stubbornly clinging to hope despite being three balls down. You finally settle on your next target and take aim. “I just need a good round and I’ll catch up!”

“Maybe you’d do better if you were aiming right.”

And then, suddenly, he’s behind you. Every muscle in your body goes still when he presses against your back, strong arms curling around you, hands tracing down your wrists until they cover yours on the cue stick. Every inch of him is warm, every solid plane of his body pressed against you, and you can barely breathe. His cologne, something warm and woodsy and leather, sends your head spinning.

You stay frozen like that, heart racing, until Rooster’s voice breaks the silence, barely a breath, “Is this okay?”

Is it? Are you okay with this?

You’ve had a crush on the aviator since the academy, a fact that Phoenix loves to tease you about constantly. But you never thought you had a shot with him, so you gladly embraced the teasing, competitive friendship that started between you. 

But this feels far more intimate than something friends should do. He wouldn’t need to be this close to correct your aim, not unless he wanted to, and that thought makes you feel dizzy, ignites a long buried hope.

“This is okay,” you hesitantly respond, voice just as quiet.

Rooster lets out a breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s just as nervous as you are. Probably not. Not with how you feel moments away from exploding in a mess of butterflies and sparks as he draws somehow closer, leaning down so his lips are at your ear.

“Be firmer with your bridge hand, and choke up a little on your grip-” He shifts your hand further up the cue stick. “-just like that.”

You’re barely paying attention to his instructions, though, too distracted by his voice. It’s raspy and warm, just barely above a murmur, and you can feel it rumble through his chest.  You glance at him, catching on his lips before looking up to his eyes, all honey and melted chocolate. They flicker down to you, and Rooster smiles, one of those genuine, slanted smiles. 

“Are you even listening to me?” He asks, tone teasing.

“Kinda hard to,” you breathe without thinking, and a blush erupts over your cheeks when his smile turns into a knowing smirk.

“Am I distracting you?” One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, thumb brushing tenderly over your ribs, and you want to melt.

Instead, you turn back to the cue, trying your hardest to focus and hide the way his touch makes every thought you have skitter to the corners of your mind.

“So, firm bridge hand, choke up, what else, Bradshaw?” You ask, feeling an inkling of pride when your voice comes out stronger than you expected it to.

The aviator hums, hand returning to cover your hand and adjust your grip, “Keep your arm close to a ninety degree angle-” You adjust and he nods in your peripherals. “-good, and then it’s just about keeping it straight, make sure you follow through.”

Rooster guides you through the movement, the cue stick moving much smoother than it did before. You bite your lip as you make the shot, still with his help, feeling the sharp crack as the cue hits the white ball, sending it straight where you want it. The solid 3-ball goes right into the pocket.

“Yes!” You squeal, jumping up victoriously.

Rooster’s hands move to your waist again when you turn back to him with a smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes are practically glittering with unconcealed glee. Every nerve in you is on fire, from his touch or the shot, you can’t tell.

“You better watch yourself, Bradshaw! You might have just signed your own defeat,” you sing, grinning up at him cheekily.

“Don’t get too confident,” Rooster warns, voices low with mischief, “You showed your hand, Widow, I’d hate for you to get distracted again.”

You puff out your chest, something smart on your tongue, but it crumbles when his fingers flex against your sides. Your face goes warm again when you realize just how close you are. Swatting at him gently, you escape his grip and put some distance between you.

“Play fair, Rooster.” You point accusingly at the man.

The aviator shows his hands, feigning innocence, “Yes, ma’am.”

You nod, though it’s not lost on him that you cross to the other side of the table, eyeing him suspiciously. He doesn’t make another move though, just watches as you decide your next shot.

You run through everything he showed you, how to hold your hands, the angle of your arm, how it felt to have him so close, his breath ghosting over your ear as he spoke - wait, no. Shaking your head, you cast Rooster a glare, though it’s merely met with a smug, knowing look.

“I will beat you,” you grumble out with every ounce of stubbornness you possess.

“Take the shot,” Rooster urges, still smirking.

And you do. With a deep breath, you snap the stick forward, keeping it as straight as possible and following through. The cue clips the 1-ball, sending it spiraling towards the corner. You hold the breath, watching with wide eyes as it spins, slowing down as it nears the pocket. Closer. Closer. Until it wobbles on the edge, as if to taunt you. You narrow your eyes at the ball, ready to just give up and let Rooster take his turn, but then it slowly, dramatically, tips into the pocket.

“Hah!” You gasp, hands shooting into the air, “I did it! Did you see that? I did it! All by myself.”

Rooster nods approvingly, and you can hear him laugh as you dance around in victory. It doesn’t matter though, because you’re on cloud nine. You actually did it. Granted, it’s because Rooster showed you how to, but you did it. Maybe you can actually win this.

The game is more competitive from then on. You miss your third shot, but that sets you down by only one. And lucky for you, Rooster seems to be off his game now, missing his own shot by only a fraction.

“Look who’s the master now,” you tease as he draws away from the table with a huff.

“I’m still winning,” he reminds you pointedly.

“Not for long.” You line up your next shot.

And you make it, well, not the one you were intending, but it still counts. You flutter to the other side of the table, passing so close to Rooster that your arms brush. Even that small touch leaves you feeling a little fuzzy, but you hunker down for your next shot, trying to ignore the feeling. The 7-ball goes in, leaving you with just two more.

“See?” You look expectantly at him over your shoulder, but Rooster is already looking at you, not the table, and the warmth dancing in his eyes makes your heart flutter. You pout, “You weren’t watching.”

“I was watching you,” he counters smoothly, leaning against his stick, “Arguably more interesting.”

“Well-” You purse your lips, looking away quickly when his eyes flicker down to your lips. “You should uh, you should keep your head in the game, Bradshaw. I’d hate to win because you’re distracted.”

“Then stop being so distracting, sweetheart.”

You go as red as a cherry at the nickname. It rolls off his tongue so naturally, so intentionally, as if it’s meant just for you. Your heart seems to think so, with how it soars up into your throat.

This is flirting. It has to be. All of it. Part of you was holding back, making up excuses. Maybe he was a little tipsy - but he’d barely started his beer. Maybe it was just because you’re alone, it’s been a stressful week, but you know Rooster isn’t like that. He’s respectful to a fault when it comes to you and the other women. That only leaves one reason he’d act like this.

You re-evaluate the blond. He’s standing closer than before, watching you just as intensely. Usually it’s easy to tell when he’s just joking around; his eyes get that little crease at the corners, and there’s this one smile, a little more wolfish than the rest. But right now, right here, his eyes are nothing but earnest, warmly glancing between your own, and his mouth is drawn into something serious. He means it.

You need to know he means it.

“I know what I want if I win,” you say offhandedly.

“And what’s that?” Rooster raises a brow at you.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see when I beat you,” you hum, taking a shaky step back as you redirect your attention to the table.

Now you just have to win. A whole new sense of determination settles in your chest.

The two of you battle it out until there’s just the 8-ball left. Rooster tries and fails, though he doesn’t look upset this time as he pulls back. Instead, he just looks at you expectantly before grabbing his beer and leaning against the bar table to watch.

It’s not an easy shot, the ball awkwardly against the wall with the cue ball a good distance away. No easy call. But you live for the difficult calls.

“Corner pocket,” you claim.

“Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck, Bradshaw.” 

You take aim, sliding the cue stick a few times before going for it. The cue ball goes careening across the green, and you watch with bated breath as it hits the 8-ball, ricocheting it off the wall towards the pocket you called. It sinks in with a resounding clatter.

“I win.”

You straighten up, pride flooding you like a dam breaking. Turning to Rooster, you hold your chin up, grin wide and victorious. He doesn’t look even the taddest bit defeated though. The aviator pushes himself from the table so he can stand toe to toe with you, close enough that you can feel his heat again.

“So, what do you want?” He asks, voice low, intrigued.

You hum, pretending to think, but it’s just to give you time to collect your thoughts. You know what you want, you said so, but you can’t deny that you’re scared. There’s something about putting things into words, making them real, that shakes you to your very bones, but you think it would be just as bad if you don’t.

“Anything right?” Your voice quivers.

Rooster gently touches your waist, his eyes darting between yours, “Anything.”

“Well, I have two things then.” You pause, searching his face, and only continue when he gives you a nod. “First. You’re gonna answer a question. And be honest.”

“Shoot.”

That draws a laugh from you and Rooster smiles. Leave it to him to make a stupid joke at a time like this. It successfully eases the nerves buzzing under your skin though.

“All this-” You gesture between the two of you. “-what is this, Rooster? I’m trying really hard not to get my hopes up, and I need to know where all of this is coming from.”

It feels so vulnerable, putting it all on the table. Rooster could just brush it all off, tell you it was just teasing, and you’d have to lock it all back up. Somehow. But you trust him enough to have your heart open right now.

And Bradley doesn’t do any of that. A heavy sigh slips from his lips as he pulls you a fraction closer, and you can’t help but notice the slight tinge of pink on his ears. Is he embarrassed?

“‘Bout a week ago, Phoenix gave me thrashing, said I need to man up and make a move on you,” he explains, shaking his head fondly, “She’s the one that made sure no one else came tonight.”

“Huh.” You’d been wondering why the other’s hadn’t come. Usually all of you would end the week with a trip to the Hard Deck, but they’d all come up with varying degrees of excuses for why they couldn’t. Suddenly, what Hangman said to you makes a lot more sense.

“Sometimes a man just has to back off to let others have the stage, Widow, I’m sure you understand.”

“So, this was all a set up?” You ask, brow furrowing.

“Yup,” Rooster drawls, gauging your reaction.

“Because you like me?” You hazard a hopeful guess.

And Rooster just can’t resist, not with how you look up at him, all doe-eyed, lip caught between your teeth. Not with how you’ve been reacting to his teasing all night. You squeak when the man suddenly leans down, his lips pressing to yours without hesitation, one of his arms curling around your back. 

It's warm, just like you expected, just like everything is with Bradley. His lips are slightly chapped, but they mold so perfectly to yours, it doesn’t bother you. And it’s Bradley. You hum softly into the kiss, hands coming up to curl around his neck and draw him closer. It’s slow and gentle and perfect and so Bradley. You wish you could stay here forever. The brush of his mustache breaks you from the moment though, but just because it makes you smile, and you can’t help but draw back and laugh.

“That kind of answers the second request,” you muse, giggling more when Bradley presses several, more chaste kisses to your lips, like he can’t stop.

“What was it?” He asks, breathless and with a matching smile of his own.

“Well, if all of it was because you liked me, I was going to request you take me on a date. I’m assuming that’s on the table?” You mess with the short hair at the back of his neck, enjoying the soft breath it drags from his lips.

“Definitely.” Rooster rests his forehead against yours. “I was going to ask you out either way.”

“I’d say we both win then,” you chirp, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

.

.

.

“Does that mean you’ll call me by my real name?”

“Hmmm, maybe. We’ll see how the date goes first, Bradshaw.”

You pull away with a wink and Rooster shakes his head.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“Well, that’s what you get for teasing me all night.”

“You liked it,” he points out with a smug grin.

“Shut up.” Your blush comes back with vengeance.

“Yes ma’am.”

Oh, if you didn’t like this man so much, you think you might strangle him. But you do, so you just roll your eyes and set about racking a new game. Maybe this time around, you can get your own teasing in. Revenge can be pretty sweet, after all.

---

This was originally gonna be around 1000 words... It took on its own life I guess. I hope y'all like it!

[xxcrystalinerose]

In celebration of me officially reaching 100 HOURS of fucking around in Hades 2, here's a couple of general gameplay tips from yours truly!

Preface

I am not the best Hades gamer out there, but I'd like to think I'm doing pretty good considering my still-standing 25+ win streak in the Underworld and 16 Fear clear on all weapon types, so this tip is meant for you guys who find Hades 2 weirdly difficult compared to the first game (I've been there!), or those who still haven't figured out good build and aspect combos. However, I will not be doing a deep dive of all the bosses except for the final bosses!

Obviously, spoilers abound under the cut, so tread with caution!!

Part 1: General Questions, Comments, Complaints, etc.

Q: Playing Melinoë is so difficult compared to Zagreus!

A: First of all, you are playing Melinoë, not Zagreus. Second of all, you are playing Lv. 1 Mel after being so used to Lv. 100 Zag (if you've spent an unreasonable amount of time playing Hades 1 like I did). These two have different playstyles! I myself am guilty of this mindset in my first 20 hours of gameplay.

Mel is all about using everything in your disposal to dispatch enemies. Additionally, the devs have designed the kit in such a way that none of your moves are an afterthought that you occasionally use every other room. The biggest example of this is Cast, which remains useful as a crowd control (CC) move even without a Boon attached to it. Use your Cast all the time!

Additionally, in case you haven't realized it, you can still move while charging your Omega Cast; however, the AoE will not follow you unless you have Local Climate (Demeter).

Don't forget that you can hold down Dash to Sprint. Lock enemies in place with Cast then sprint away if you need breathing room. However, do remember that you do not have i-frames while sprinting, only when dashing.

I have to concede that as of the current EA patch, dashing to dodge attacks still feels janky without the Swift Runner card, mostly because of the dash start-up animation being slightly but noticeably slower than Zag's dashes. However, after several runs with the Judgment card (where I can't activate Swift Runner, and that it might not activate further in the run), the rhythm of dashing with and without it is just muscle memory now. Keep practicing!

Q: Melinoë feels so squishy/slow/weak/etc.!

A: Hades 2 does feel much more Early Game Hellish™ than Hades 1, which imo is mostly because of the Arcana system's complexities.

You need various resources to unlock an Arcana, then you need sufficient Grasp to actually use the Arcana, THEN some Arcana have prerequisites for activation so you can't just use anything and everything you want. Very unlike H1, where you can just dump exactly one resource type into levelling the Mirror upgrades and the only true constraint is choosing one side of the Mirror over the other.

To mitigate the squishiness, Frinos with a fully upgraded Life Bond gives you a free 40 base HP. I prefer him over Toula because I fucking suck at bullet hells and Frinos eats up all those projectiles without flinching too much, and some enemies are really fucking annoying with their projectile attacks. Looking at you, hourglass thingies in Tartarus.

Another thing to note is that The Wayward Son card is a buffed version of Zag's health regen on room exit. At max level it heals 4 HP (8 if you're low), which also makes Chaos gate health drains trivial in Erebus and Oceanus, so go grab those Chaos boons.

If you think surviving against Chronos/Eris is difficult, try having at least 200-220 HP (adjust depending on Fear settings) before entering the fight. The Centaur and Titan cards are useful to achieve this. If you run a Hephaestus build, the Boon that adds HP based on Magick is also great!

Q: The Bosses in Hades 2 are more difficult... please help!

A: I see this observation often, but in my experience, the H2 bosses bar Chronos and Eris are actually significantly easier than the H1 bosses. Your experience gap between dealing with H1 and H2 bosses could also contribute. But anyways, here's some tips for each boss:

Hecate

The transformation Hex counts as a projectile and can be blocked by Frinos. If you haven't unlocked Frinos, simply dash back and forth into the hex (essentially abusing your dash i-frame) and it will eventually dissipate. Don't try to outrun it.

(Frinos ate the hex before I could fully demonstrate the dodging lol)

If you DO get transformed, dash and attack repeatedly to prevent Hecate's attacks from hitting you, because your attack in sheep form is a charge forward that helps add extra distance while waiting for the dash cooldown to end.

Scylla and the Sirens

They killed me an unreasonable amount of times early game because there's so damn much going on the screen, so my tip for that is kill the drummer first. The guitarist's arsenal is much less dangerous and her dash attack is heavily telegraphed. Even if the guitarist is the featured artist, I would still kill the drummer first. Additionally, the Night Bloom Hex* works in this fight. Have fun!

Infernal Beast

Mostly immobile boss that can't really turn around with heavily telegraphed attacks, so the easiest trick is to just stand behind it for free backstab damage and don't get hit. Paired with the massive hitbox, the boss becomes very vulnerable against Apollo/Zeus cast and Omega specials with Pan aspect on the Sister Blades.

Polyphemus

Sometimes he has sheep in the fight; if he eats them he gets healed. Gold sheep will block Omega moves in the radius indicated around them, while black sheep will charge at you. I find his most difficult attack is the boulder slam if he spots you. When he leaps, sprint away first for some distance, then dash into the shockwaves because they move FAST and staying near will guarantee you get hit.

Eris

All of her attacks count as projectiles, so Hestia's Soot Sprint turns the fight into a total joke. She also turns relatively slowly when firing; when she does the spread shots, stay directly behind her. The forward charge is also telegraphed by an animation where she rises a bit before charging, so dash towards Eris to avoid getting hit (because it also stuns you).

Chronos, in general

God I hate that bitch ass scythe throw attack SO MUCH. I find the most reliable way to dodge it is to dodge towards Chronos but in a counterclockwise direction because it always travels clockwise. DO NOT DODGE AWAY FROM HIM.

The thrown scythe counts as a projectile, so projectile slowing effects like Demeter's Cyclone debuff or Hard Target (Hermes) affect its move speed.

Additionally, Chronos himself is immune to any time-slowing effect, including from the Sorceress card, the Phase Shift Hex, and Hermes' legendary Boon. He can still damage you during the time stop in the Hex casting animation.

Lastly, the ring explosions that come after his slashing attacks are unblockable by any "Block" move e.g. Axe special.

Chronos, 2nd phase

He always begins the phase with a full screen attack that does 999 damage unless you stand in the highlighted safe spots... or if you have Coarse Grit (Demeter Infusion) that lets you take no more than 15 damage per hit (lol). The clock hands will also kill you this way, so stand well clear of its radius. When he does this attack he will stand in place, which if you're lucky lets you get a guaranteed Omega Cast or Total Eclipse strike, and even one or two fully charged Pan aspect specials if the "safe spot" is near him.

(* Night Bloom has an unintended interaction with the Judgment arcana that causes its effects to be triggered multiple times in the Scylla fight. I've reported this as a bug, but I guess you could abuse it until the next patch lol)

Q: What is your Arcana setup?

A: This! I find this to be the easiest setup for activating the Divinity card and also the "safest" build, with the drawback of being unable to change room rewards/Boon and Well of Charon offerings.

If I wanted more challenge, I would activate everything in the third row, and use the remaining 3 Grasp for either The Huntress or Death, depending on weapon:

When I do a Judgment arcana run, I only activate The Wayward Son, Eternity, and Excellence; the bonus with Judgment is that it also automatically activates The Queen, and keeps it active no matter how many more cards it activates later.

If you have yet to max out your Grasp and want to play it safe, the cards I recommend to prioritize are Eternity > Excellence > Origination > The Swift Runner/The Sorceress > The Titan > The Furies/The Moon/The Huntress/ > Night/The Unseen.

Extra tip: The Moon synergizes very well with pure damage Omega Casts e.g. Apollo, Zeus, Poseidon because it adds to the base damage. Naturally, this makes Apollo cast busted as hell.

Q: What are your recommended Keepsakes? How do I use them?

A: The ones from Hecate, Odysseus, Nemesis, Moros, and Narcissus. If you're good at not getting hit, Arachne's because it continuously stacks Armor per location as long as you stay above 1 Armor. Recently I've also been messing around with Chaos', which has been fun.

To elaborate:

Silver Wheel (Hecate) lets you regen Magick automatically, which was great for me in very early game until I got the hang of every Gain boon and evaluated which are the best ones. Essentially, it's a good crutch for learning how the game works. However, do note that the Keepsake regen is prioritized over any other Magick regeneration effects.

Knuckle Bones (Odysseus) is also a similarly useful early game crutch if you have difficulty against bosses or need to take a run to analyze their moves (very appropriate). It also gives you all-damage reduction against bosses. And fun fact: bring it to the Polyphemus fight multiple times for some unique interactions!

Evil Eye (Nemesis) is just a straightforward free ~30% universal damage bonus against the last enemy that killed you. Since mine was Chronos... well, let's just say I almost never spend a single DD in his fights ever since.

Engraved Pin (Moros) is functionally a better Stubborn Defiance. Triggering its effect will be prioritized over consuming a Death Defiance, and it works ONCE PER ROOM which is fucking amazing as a learning crutch and in high Fear runs. One of my favorite strategies if 1) my HP falls below the Pin's healing threshold, 2) its effect has not been triggered yet, and 3) I am 100% sure the encounter is about to end, I just die on purpose, kill everything that's left, and get a free heal.

Aromatic Phial (Narcissus) rarifies a random Common boon when you drink from a Fountain, which helps massively in no-Arcana runs or runs without Excellence/Divinity. It could also help if you grabbed Hera's Uncommon Grace but are unable to activate it because you have a Common boon. Lastly, the extra Fountain heal helps with survivability.

On the topic of Keepsakes, I encourage you to use the Olympian Keepsakes, because they now have the ability to increase the rarity of non-Infusion/Duo/Legendary Boons up to a certain rarity threshold and not just help you aim where your current build is going.

Rarification works especially well with Demeter's Rare Crop; one time Heroic Rare Crop managed to rarify my Attack, Special, and Cast somehow and I ended up blazing through Tartarus and Chronos like it was nothing.

End Notes (For Now)

I have some more tips prepared, but I'd like to know before I compile the next one:

Aand that's it for now. If I got something wrong or you know anything relevant to what I've shared above, do tell me in the replies so I can edit!

TL;DR: Don't forget to use Cast, get used to dodging with and without Swift Runner card, grab Chaos boons in early regions, be patient with grinding for upgrades, keep practicing, and have fun :)

[sol-flo]

stuff from steam next fest that caught my eye:

kletka: 1-4 player survival horror. seems like a tight iteration of lethal company. i think calling it gigastructure (instead of mega) is a bit much though... are you trying to compensate for something...?

fish fear me: fishing roguelike. actually played this one for an hour-ish, and the demo is likely to stay up imo. it has tank controls, the boat is kinda like a kart. it's an unhinged choice that works super well.

automaton heart: sequel to the 3ds' last game, automaton lung, which i'm sad to admit i haven't played much of. it's an rpg and the visuals appeal to the blame! enjoyer brain, plus i really am fascinated with automaton lung's whole deal. — update: yeah it has all of lung's signature cryptic jank. i really need to dig more into it. this demo's likely to remain up as well, so i'll have time to really poke at it.

mohrta: save me slow paced exploration heavy fps... i love retro rpgs. 20 bosses sounds really scary, and it overall seems to be going for a very large scope, when what i love about lunacid and dread delusion is their tightness, but this looks awesome.

update: for an exploration heavy fps it sure does start you with a long and linear combat encounter... the game's pretty hard, i got walled by the first boss because it's very fast — in fact, once you get into the first level it's pretty clear that while exploration is somewhat slow, combat is anything but. however! it's made on gzdoom! that's pretty cool on its own, but it also means console commands are all there ^_^, and there's a lot of options including full tilt / bob customization (why there's tilting in the first place is beyond me. the nausea...). it might be stretching the engine a bit, since my performance is kinda subpar at times. the art direction is awesome, but there's the characteristic feeling that the game was made by some cishet guys. haven't finished the demo yet, but overall a game to keep an eye on for sure!

hyperbeat: rhythm game! it looks really cool and fun, and there's workshop support — yippee for the possibility of bad apple!!. runs decently on the thinkpad but didn't feel super great on mouse, i wanna check it out on the "gaming" laptop and probably with controller (it really seems designed for the analog stick) — update: performance greatly improved by being on a better laptop, but it was still pretty hard with controller. the learning curve of this control scheme is pretty tough to me...

rhapsody of moon rabbit: top down shooter, it doesn't look all that remarkable but i'll always check out hybrid hells. — update: this performed quite poorly and wasn't very good... i didn't enjoy the controls and the two character gimmick is odd, because i don't see much reason to ever use the meelee character, she's more of a fallback for when you die. not good 👎

[catartac]

When i was younger and my brother still lived with us i would sometimes go to him asking for piano improvisations based on different themes i would give him. Often times this would be based on my OCs or scenes from my "story i will someday totally write but for now daydream about and monologue to my siblings". It was nice to sit back, eyes closed, imagining the action with my own background original soundtrack. He was pretty good at it too.

He was the first one to leave home as he went to uni, and he was the only one to never really come back to live with my parents at any point. He was never really the easiest to communicate with and being away didn't make things much smoother.

However, every year, on our birthdays, we will compose songs for us. He knows what we like, so he always crafts them based on our preferences. He knows I'm a sucker for a repeating melody, for violin and piano sounding sounds, he knows I dream of vocals and man he's come close. My sister is all about rhythm and a bit more electronic. One year we collaborated and I made a moving backdrop to his song for her (which also included audio from Kermit the frog in the background... it kinda worked ngl).

He's been working on a game for some time (you know, if being a talented mathemagician and musician wasn't enough) and even though we are definitely not the target audience (it's a rythm game and man i suck at anything that requires reflexes) he kept asking us for feedback every step of the way. He made it very clear that even though the game has a very high skill ceiling he wants to make sure "even mum can play it".

For context, my mum is first adorable and also she's an og gamer. As in, she got carpal tunnel from playing too much tetris when she was younger. Now she loves playing overcooked and animal crossing with us but she get a bit overwhelmed with more complex games (she's just like me frfr).

It came out today! I bought it (he did offer me a key but I kinda couldn't be bothered and also he was one of the first people to but from my Redbubble so i gotta do what i gotta do). I started playing it. Immediately changed my settings to four keys maximum because i was honest with myself. Actually, that's a lie, the first thing i did was change the colours because that's the kind of person i am. Started playing, really loved the first song, quickly realised another one was waaaay out my league, liked another one. Tell my bro, he says "oh you should also check out Bi Katuak, I think it's your birthday song" I check it out, love it but doesn't ring that much of a bell but now that I am on the second page i see it

La Danza del Fenix

Immediately i am transported back, i imagine Amanda, the character, riddled by anxiety and regret, that i then thought i related to the least but have since then came to realise portrayed very accurate parts of me, dancing surrounded by fire in a joyous way for the first time, the freedom, how her daughter will dance at a ball carefree and excited on what will be the real proof that war and tragedy is over

My brother only gives side hugs and half smiles

It's an easy song. With a lovely repeating melody that makes me want to dance around as I play it even if that makes me make mistakes. You're not penalised for mistakes, you can only see your records get higher. The songs never end unless you want them to, and yet they don't loop in any obvious way (something to do with the algorhythm he kept trying to explain but I kind of gave up understanding at some point.

This game may be for you if you like music, rhythm games, or just videogames in general. Though in a way I am sure it will never be for you in the way it was made for me.

It's called EnternAlgoRythm Give it a shot! There is pretty much nothing you can't customise in terms of gameplay and cosmetics and if there's anything you notice you can tell him and he'll do his very best to fix it or improve it. There are plenty of songs for any skill level (some i dare not even touch) and the songs are named in different languages based on the countries we have lived in/had influence from. My favourites are the aforementioned Danza del Fenix, Bi Katuak (defs also made for me, it's an easy cat themed song), Violet Voyage, and Ingranaggi Striscianti.

TLDR: im very emotional pls go play my brother's game

[divinekangaroo]

Thanks @palmviolet for tagging me!

How many works do you have on AO3? 154

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 900k

3. What fandoms do you write for? Peaky Blinders, Final Fantasy XII, Final Fantasy VII, Dragon Age II, The Professionals.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Interesting and not straightforward question: I've been writing since 2007 and only rebooted my fics to AO3 in 2023. I backdated them to time of writing rather than posting live into the current update stream. I was vaguely curious to see what *actually* attracts readers through the AO3 search engine. So, my current top five are all Peaky Blinders Tommy/Lizzie fics, and given my small followers list, everyone following me will probably already have read them!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do, and it’s my vain (both senses of the term) struggle with how to do it appropriately. I am conscious of how comments, particularly on an AO3 "archival" fic, can weight a reader's further interpretation/engagement of or with fic by that author, and that I'll never put so much time into comments as I do into fic.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The fics I thought of picking for these two pretty much overlapped. Perhaps this shows just how I approach happiness – it’s moments, it’s never an ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Only old Dragon Age fics. Interesting period of time where any fic author that didn't unequivocally support the moral rightness of one particular character's opinions was targeted. Like: ok to write torture/rape fics of this character, but only if it was clear the author thought this character was morally right. Such a destructive troll.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I'll write sex, mostly as part of a larger arc rather than standalone smut; often it is a partial scenario rather than linear start-to-end event written in a rhythm to support a coherent wanking rise-to-climax read. I'm pleased if people find it pushes their buttons, but I'm also not bothered if it doesn't. I do approach smut as one of many possible lenses or frames for a character, however, so smut that detaches from character confuses me.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Sometimes but they have to feel really right. I think I tend more to fusion or pastiche (I think those are the terms?) rather than crossover: I take a particular character concept/theme and port them into a particular environmental context which is not possible in the canon to see what happens. The only one I still have up is a FFXII/Dragonriders of Pern fic (incomplete) which was going to be all about the horrible knowledge of socially accepted and endorsed ritualised rape and forced feminisation of a character.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I'm not that popular to notice.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have a memory of one in FFXII but can't recall.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! Taught me a lot, including the kind of writer I am - difficult to collaborate as my push to complete within a motivational urge period will always be greater than a long-haul effort, and I struggle to be available for other people. I’m either good at the front end ideas-generation, or a micro detail ‘write this particular thing/scene and fill it with goodness’, and not very good at the middle bit – the long slot of planning and plotting and aiming for consistency etc. I am so grateful fandom exists to support non-traditional prose formats which let me play with writing and thinking and engagement without needing to produce to book-style production standards.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? I usually fixate on a character, and pairings allow means to explore that character rather than being an end game.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh they all carry this potential. *cries* The issue for me is loss of motivational drive/thinking; because I rarely have good structural notes etc if I lose my immediate thread of 'thinking of everything all at once' I find it hard to pick up again later. I also stop some fics because I realise how ambitious the scope really is, and I feel like I can’t do them justice.

16. What are your writing strengths? Speed-sketcher? Completionist? Tests multiple ideas rapidly and freely and never worries about something 'being wrong' because there's always another fic to try? Intuitive gut level hits on characterisation here and there?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Editing, pacing, I can't sustain long fic, I frequently move characters around like paper dolls for the sake of the cool and forget they need their own internal motivation.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I prefer the kind of cant-based/dialect-based approach which splices non-English terms fluidly into English dialogue, mostly because as a child of many migrants this has been my world experience. I do suck at writing this, hence my frequent use of cop-outs to say 'language shift here, meanwhile still writing in English'. But when it’s done well it hits so many of my sweet spots.

19. First fandom you wrote for? FFVII.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Anything in my Personal Favourites list: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3728710. (I'm still too close to Peaky Blinders to pick a fav, it'll take about five years of distance!)

[iouinotes]

Good gone bad | Corionalus Snow (part two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x female!reader

movie: Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

genre: dark!character, smut

word count: k

summary: You awake from the illusion, Coryo has put you under. Can you escape him?

a/n: @user90288777 requested a part 2, so here you go :))

read part one here, part two

His body feels so good against mine, rays of sunshine are falling through the window onto our bare skin. I smile dreamily as I feel the warmth on my skin.

My eyes try to look at my surroundings and I do my best to concentrate. With heavy eyelids I see the portraits of the former rulers, look at the high ceiling, the marble floor and the documents infront of me, that are laying on his office desk. But I am unable to read them, the letters blur infront of my eyes.

His fingers are lazily tracing my skin, his lips meet my shoulders and continue to place gentle kisses further towards my neck. I hold my breath, when he brushes some strays of my hair aside, wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me close.

I can't say exactly how long we've been in this position. Me leaning against his back, sitting on his lap, while he radiates with a power, that makes me feel uneasy.

It could be minutes, days, even weeks of being near him, touching him, always staying by bis side.

Every little thought makes my head ache, I cant even remember how long it has been since he visited me in my dorm. Since then, the days have merged into each other, it is impossible to keep track of the time that has passed.

The only thing I noticed, is the repetitive contact with something, that makes me feel like I was trapped in a blizzard at first and then I can suddenly only concentrate on needing Coryo by my side.

Only him and no one else.

When that happens, like a rhythm, I feel myself getting lost in my feelings. No thoughts bother my head, the time disappears again and again infront of my opened eyes, but I am still able to feel the presence of him.

And that is most important, he always reminds me of it. Only him, only me. Only us.

Although I'm not sure, I begin to notice changes in my surroundings. The imperfections on the ground, the bright yellow colour of the wall, the cursive letters on the documents and his pale fingers, with which he holds me in a firm grip against his body.

The warm feeling from earlier melts into a shivering cold, when my eyes finally focus and I am able to actually hold on onto one of my thoughts.

What am I doing here?

Warily I try to catch a glimpse of him, but I can only see blue bruises and red traces of nails on my skin, it makes my heartbeat race in my chest. Even though I try to keep my cool, he notices my unnerved movements.

,,Im trying to focus, sit still." His voice makes my blood run cold.

It takes every ounce of effort in me not to move. To not immediately get up from his lap, to hit his perfect face and then flee hundreds of kilometers - no, to another district to escape him.

His proximity to me is unsettling and his voice so stern, that I don't even dare to breathe out too loud. I am so terrified and have absolutely no idea how to escape from this situation.

He betrayed me. I hear these thoughts loud and clear in my head.

And I loved him.

A numb feeling, similar to the dark void of my childhood, wraps itself around my heart, the grip so tight that it feels like my personal death sentence.

I wanted nothing more in this world, then that my wish would be granted and my love for him would dissolve, like his poison on my skin back in the dorm.

I thought about killing him for a second, to feel the relief of his blood on my hands, that could help me too be free. Then, I knew I would never be that selfish. Because I could never kill him, only to make me feel better.

So, I wanted to focus.

First of all, I have to rely on what I do best. Structured and clear reasoning to develop a plan. So I breathe in with my nose and focus on the facts. With an unobtrusive glance, I look around and notice three things.

Firstly, I am in the president's office.

Secondly (and this makes me freeze for whole 10 minutes, I can see it on the clock on the wall), Coriolanus Snow, my traitorous best friend, is the President of Panem.

Third, I'm sitting on his lap in a gauzy purple dress, he's reviewing documents about the regulation of new laws and I exist silently, doll-like beside him.

I want to cry until the Pacific Ocean seems like a river compared to the amount of tears I've shed. My nerves are on edge and even if I'm trying, I can't concentrate anymore. The only thing I am aware of is what he has done to me.

The night he came to my apartment and begged me to trust him again - he poisoned me.

This cold, liquid happiness that he poured over my skin paralyzed me. The more dials on the clock move forward, the more I realize how much time must have passed in reality. Months, because he is the president of our country, I sit on him as if it were a matter of course and everything becomes progressively more absurd.

I no longer know who I am or how long I've been pretending to be someone else. All I know is that he is to blame and the way he sits here - relaxed - shows that he feels absolutely no remorse. I almost think I'm going to throw up.

And then he moves and I freeze. His hands move to my arms, stroking them and I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on something else. When his voice breaks the silence and I understand the true meaning of his words, I have to suppress tears.

"I wish you would talk to me again. I miss you so much."

And then he is quiet again and silence engulfs us again. I can't believe what I'm hearing from him. And then I want to scream and ask "Then why did you do this to me?", but I stay quiet and even if I wanted to, I probably couldn't say a word.

Because it was all a lie. An illusion, a fake honesty. A dishonest love. And I was stupid enough to believe it. I let him do this to me.

Waves of hatred and sorrow so strong that I would writhe, if his arms weren't wrapped tightly around my waist, embrace me. I have to get out of here, away, away, away, away…

But how? He will notice any inconspicuousness. I know he notices every little detail. For the moment, I have no choice, but to continue pretending to be under this spell, even though it's killing me.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Another hour passes and I become more and more exhausted from the strain of trying to stay calm. I struggle to keep my eyes open and don't notice how I'm gradually leaning more and more against him. Then I feel his lips on my cheek and goose bumps appear on my skin.

I'm suddenly wide awake.

"You're so good to me, if only you knew how happy it makes me that you're here with me." His words feel like ice splinters, that are stabbed into my heart and my muscles start to ache the more tense I get.

His fingers stroke my thighs, which is made possible by the slit of my dress. As he gets closer and closer to my core, I want to scream.

"I have to say, love. I admire your acting skills. I almost didn't notice that your calmness and submissiveness were faked."

When I try to jump off his lap, he holds me firmly in place in a tight grip.

"Do you know what your behavior over the last three hours has shown me?" He knew, I realize. He knew the whole time.

His fingers stroke my clothed core, sliding up and down, creating a delicious pressure that makes me twitch on his lap.

"It showed me that you can do exactly what I expect, without Dr. Gaul's concoction. I knew you would be perfect as my first lady of Panem." This statement makes me freeze. He quietly laughs.

"Really? So much time to think and you didn't realize that? You're everything I ever wanted. Of course you'll be by my side. No matter how."

To show me how much he already has me under control, he slowly pushes my panties to the side and drags one of his fingers through my wet folds. I'm unable to move, it's as if my body has gone rigid with fear.

"You are so pretty. Every moment I touch you is like the most precious treasure in the world." He is quiet for a moment.

"I had no choice, you would have never agreed willingly."

His words finally make me cry. Even his warmth and the arms he holds around me for support feel more and more like a prison.

"You're crazy - I loved you!" As I break down, my frustration, sadness and anger are clearly evident in my voice.

"I know, love." His fingers brush the tears from my cheeks, his lips leave loving kisses. But to me, everything just feels wrong. I don't want to be near him for another second.

"Then why? Why did you do this to me?" He won't let go of me, no matter how hard I try.

"Because we love each other in a different way. You were ready to let me go." His eyes are starring daggers in my back.

"I, on the other hand, could never let you leave."

Every word feels like a stab into my heart. I'm not sure I'll ever recover from these wounds. Or if he'll let me recover at all.

"And now what? You're going to keep poisoning me for the rest of my life?" I would rather die than live like this. When he shakes his head after a second, I have hope.

"Of course not. This time I want to give you an option. Either you will stay by my side voluntarily or, unfortunately, I will have to force you to. And we've seen how well that works, haven't we?"

I'm shaking, my head feels like it's going to explode any second. "Why won't you let me go? Please, I want to go home."

He turns me in his lap and for the first time I look at his face again. Notice his hair, grown back and neatly trimmed. The blue of his eyes, which doesn't look at me pitying at all. Then his lips, smiling as if he was giving me a present.

"My darling, you're home now. You'll be safe by my side forever. Your family is taken care of, your future is secure. You are now the most respected woman in the country, I have made sure of that. I'll do anything you want."

"You can't keep me here forever." My voice trembles. And when he starts to move his fingers inside me, my knees weaken. His hand holds my face tightly to keep my gaze fixed on him.

"Oh, but I already have." As he gets closer and hits the spot inside me, that makes me see stars, I can't help but moan uncontrollably.

The rustling of his pants resounds in the room and as he lifts me up for a moment and I gather all my strength to get off him, he lets me sink onto his cock. My warmth catches him, I almost fall onto him and feel a pain that quickly changes to pleasure. As he moves my hips up and down a few times, my eyes almost roll back.

"See how well I take care of you? I've already provided for everything. You won't remember, but we've done this so many times that you'll soon have two heartbeats inside you. Trust me."

I cant breathe.

"This world is cruel and covetous and I'm here to protect you from it." His hands grasp my waist.

If only he knew that it was really him, I needed to be saved from.

[georgevilliers]

challengers fic recs

so in light of my previous post about art/patrick dynamics in fics, here are some fics I've read that I have really enjoyed so far (I'm not listing them here but please always be mindful of the tags and ratings...most of these are porn, so)

backslide - spqr - “So,” Patrick says, after an awkward minute. “I’m still your emergency contact.” “I forgot to change it,” Art lies.

this monstrous fire - kithmet - Afterward, in the hotel room, there’s a shift.

futile devices - emarallax - It hurts. Art had come to forget. Not to remember. “I’m sorry,” he begins, much more mellow now. “I had a shit day and I read the whole thing wrong.” “No no no no,” he shakes his hands placatingly in front of him, smiling even wider now. “You didn’t. I’m Patrick.” Art gives him a polite smile in return, “Art.” “You certainly are,” Patrick murmurs.

brutalizer - spqr - “If you win tomorrow,” Tashi tells Patrick, "I’ll let you fuck him.”

my moral standing is laying down - comosum - “It means he likes me to talk about you when we fuck,” Tashi says, blunt. Art feels every part of him go hot. “Tashi,” he says. “What?” Tashi asks. “We were going there anyway.”

cherrylime - concentrate, kocasoda - Their hotel room is still ten degrees hotter than it should be.

no 'i' in three - sundermount - “I am a stay-at-home husband, if you haven’t noticed,” Art says drily. “Taking care of my daughter while you fly around the world with my wife, Mister Calvin Klein.”

soft living - spanish_sahara - Years after the New Rochelle Challenger. Vignettes of a summer in Los Angeles.

is a dream a lie if it don't come true or is it something worse - comosum - “Have you read this?” Tashi doesn’t raise a brow but she does level him with a look. The look says that if she wanted to exert more than an iota of effort into this conversation, she would raise a brow. “Did you buy,” she drawls, still tapping out a rhythm on her laptop, “a teen magazine?” “It’s GQ,” Art says. There’s a beat. “Tashi.”

hit where it hurts - plastiswafers - Art's still not good enough, and Tashi needs another favor before the US Open begins. Patrick is all too happy to oblige.

games to play - civilbores - Art agrees to go on a road trip with Patrick and Tashi, and gets more than he bargained for.

triptych - kithmet - Tashi begins coaching Patrick—as does Art, in a way.

put all you need in me - melobaby - In which the hotel with Tashi wasn't the first time Art and Patrick have kissed.

if it turns out i peaked in high school just shoot me - anonymous - (it's a high school au)

it's only sex (it's only sex) - sharkhead - He just cracked open the window, and pulled a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket, half on the floor and half on her desk chair. He was musing on how far he must have thrown it, when Tashi says, voice clear and even from the bed, “You talk about Art a lot when we're fucking.”

we kiss and we keep busy - madddi13 - "Patrick what- what are you doing?” “Entertaining myself, Arty.” He says matter of factly, then leans up and sucks on Art’s skin.

knee deep in the passenger seat - melobaby - Two weeks after their Challenger, Art and Patrick have a night to themselves. They have a lot to talk about.

too bright to look at - timeloops - That’s the thing about Patrick Zweig. All he does is want. He doesn’t know how to stop. —patrick zweig, on desperately wanting someone to look back at you, even if you have to drive them away to do it

like real love - vokdas - Art tries not to worry about whether his wife loves him because he was always second to tennis anyway, and then third to Lily, and that’s fine. It’s not until he’s pushed to fourth that the wound starts to rot.

plausible deniability - plastiswafers - The page is unambiguously TMZ, but most of the screen is a photograph. A shitty photograph, to be sure, one that looks like it was taken with someone’s iPhone 4 and left to marinate for the better part of a decade—but a photograph. Of Art. And Patrick. At the Grove, two days ago. Patrick is kissing what could charitably be called Art’s cheek but is, in reality, the corner of his mouth. Art has an arm looped around Patrick’s shoulders. He’s all smiles. The headline: Following US OPEN FLAMEOUT, Art Donaldson seen with MYSTERY…MAN? DIVORCE RUMORS hit fever pitch—WHERE’S TASHI?

open heart / open container - comosum - “I don’t think you ever bought your own cigarettes in the six years I knew you.” “You’ve known me eighteen years,” Art corrects, instinctively.

che sarà sarà - galehautstomb - Art had been married to Tashi for half a decade and was still amazed by her ruthless efficiency in every aspect of her life. This included, to the surprise of no one who knew her well, vacations – or rather, breaks snuck between tennis matches which she qualified as such.

[colorblindstories]

Hello again.

It’s autumn in Latvia.

In the North, Nature willingly surrenders and prepares for colder days, for the upcoming winter. As the cold air touches the summer leaves they lose their vivid colors, producing wrinkles, shrinking and eventually surrendering to the final journey, the fall. The winds are inviting the Forests and all its inhabitants to a majestic dance, a ritual of goodbye, a true reminder for everything that needs to pass.

Even the strongest and tallest pine trees are gently bending and bowing in front of the wind as if paying their respect, and then to their positions, standing still and firm. The cracking sound released from their core becomes a song that is calming and humbling at the same time.

The soft moss provides the lushest groundcover I’ve ever seen, almost as if blooming in celebration of the abundant rainwater that’s falling from the sky. The fallen leaves are received with a soft embrace as they slowly dissolve into the fabric of this thick green carpet.

This is the environment where fungi are thriving; with generous amounts of decaying matter available all around, it’s a feast. The most exquisite show-off of colors and shapes, decorating the Forest with their royalty and shining beauty.

I admire those tall trees, outliving human beings by far and being exposed to the elements, to water and wind and to the changing of seasons.

Don’t know for how long my fragile body would resist in those harsh conditions. Being blessed with shelter and food, sitting on muritis, a heated couch I can express my gratitude for this heat that’s coming to me through fire. Another alchemizing power is transforming dead organic matter into heat that can be stored in the mass provided by clay, the earth.

All four elements are present and working together in order to sustain life.

Can I …?

May I …?

I have been hearing this question quite often lately and it makes me wonder.

What or who is this higher authority who’s approval we need to receive before we can perform an action?

I know this person who is asking the question. I understand this one very well, because this one is me.

I’ve been there, desperately seeking out approval to act and to manifest on behalf of my authentic self in the world.

Why?

Because I was afraid.

Afraid of being rejected, ridiculed, punished or excluded.

Afraid of not being good enough, or just enough.

Because I wasn’t sure I am allowed

Because I wasn’t sure I am welcomed.

Because I was waiting for validation.

Because I was living in the realm of right and wrong.

Because I was lacking courage to live in my truth.

Because I was lacking the strength to own my actions and it’s consequences.

Because I thought of others as being more capable, powerful or resourceful and therefore more suitable to take decisions on my behalf.  It took me a while to realize and become aware that by doing by this, I am taking a position of submission, surrendering my power to others.

“With responsibility comes great power” – Arno Ilgner wisely said.

Letting the rain wash off layers of dust from my rearview mirrors it slowly becomes clear how a story that once was the only reality I knew, is becoming irrelevant. It becomes clear how I was denying myself the freedom of expression and exploration by living in a limiting construct of other’s beliefs and definitions, trying to shape and sculpt my identity in order to fit into unfamiliar narratives.

Another leaf  begins its fall.

I could point fingers and easily find someone to blame maybe my upbringing, education, media or society. Yet I would still be spinning in the same circle of who’s right or wrong, surrendering to a higher authority.

Nobody ends up as a winner in that game.

The world doesn’t need more losers.

So much is already lost.

I feel inspired by Nature’s rhythm to let go of whatever needs to go. To move with the seasons, flowing into transformation. Embracing the cycles.

As GREG KIMURA beautifully puts it in his poem Cargo

“You have gifts.

The world needs your gifts.

You must deliver them.”

I find myself being more and more in awe and admiration with the creative power and the beauty that is in each and every one of us and wants to come alive through our personal truth, through our authentic expressions of life itself.

So I say thank you to all of you who create, who are sharing your gifts, who are inhabiting your own lives.