#what the heck was going in my mind on that session man

[starryvoice]

Hello again I am posting again here, this is time I might be posting this in advance as man I rather not do what I did with mass posting stuff in this blog myself.

So I want to talk about D&D again, yes we are going back to X again. This is the second to the last character that I have in that world before my own journeys on being another DM in another servers other than mine and these ones are still on going to this day as I think I am playing around 2-3 characters in two servers now, but the story for each 3 characters that I playing in those two servers are still on hold with comes to character story plots as I am a bit in and out of playing as player and I been mostly in the DM seat at the moment with just writing lore and readying for sessions for another set of new players. Oh you might be asking why I am playing 3 characters in 2 servers. Well I am playing in one server two characters for two different DMs and other one is another west march so yeah.

Rabi March

He is a Purple Gem Dragonborn that is originally a Stars Druid but changed to Ancients Paladin 6/The Fathomless Warlock 11 only. This is the best friend that I was talking about in my last post in D&D. The best friend that lost to another lover of Shino and now just wandering around X to find something about the place where Shino stayed. He has a familiar named Molly who became his daughter cause of my flavor of Molly as she is a Water Sprite based on Rabi's Warlock Goddess of the water theme, Rabi did worship two gods/goddesses for this as I did want Rabi to worship two gods/goddess for his oath and warlock, this point I don't know that Oaths wasn't based on a god. So I should have made him a cleric if I really wanted to do two gods thing, but everyone in that server rolled with it.

So what is Rabi's journey to this "peaceful" X. Well let me say that it is not really become peaceful after the fight of UD with Shino in fact there are things that were something brewing behind the scenes that all the DMs were planning for that season of X. (Oh yeah I forgot to tell you, guys that we ran by seasons in the server, I came in the server when it is was on its 3rd season, so this point was the 4th season of X). Let's just say that there were a lot of lore for the dragons and Rabi was involved with it as Gem Dragons are a rare thing in X and there are a lot of character plot that was rolling around this season since the DMs are either getting on dramas or on break for the most of it. We have called that season the Couple Season since there were only mostly these 4 or 5 characters that getting the spot light man, but there is these couples that was getting the most spot light than the other characters. I guess my character got pushed to the next season honestly since I did got in the DM side and man, I am very sad to hear that Rabi's dragon lore stuff are in that other season and I am playing another character by then.

In which was his step-sister that is a Red Kobold. I will be telling that side of the story in the next post and what happened to that west march in lighter terms cause you have guess on why I did say second to the last character.

So what happened to Rabi after all of that shit, well he did find his dream demon boyfriend (Yes he was gay, but it is because all the characters that I play are Pansexual at best, so technically he is pansexual) But yes I will back on a little on that on why Rabi has a demon for a boyfriend? and oh I forgot he got another daughter! in his fight around another gem dragon for parts for a sword upgrade (Stirring Dragon's Wrath Rapier) this daughter of his was in inside of the gem that was connected to the Rapier, so yeah he has two daughters. So back to the Demon Boyfriend, this is actually my session to finally end Rabi's journey (Yes I DMed this), it was a mess in a half since that session was half-planned in my part and the character mechanically can't go to sleep or dream for that matter. So I tried ways to make them go to Rabi's head to see what's up with him. The Funny thing in this session is that Rabi just really want to stay for the dicking.

YES I KNOW THIS IS MY CHARACTER, but I want some kind of chaos with him, throughout his journey in X, he didn't got to show who he really is, he is only known as this lovable father to two little daughters, but come on can't he have someone to have around when the daughters are away? He never planned to have daughters first before he got someone get some dicking down, this poor man is a virgin that he want to wait to tell his feelings to this best friend he has, but man he was too late. So you know I can't left him with other partner that would love him. Yes it is weird that a demon is your boyfriend, but I made this demon a bit different than your typical demon, so they both are loving couple that want to stay with each other, but when that other plot that I was telling you that the other DM has planned as messed up this demon, so he can't out with Rabi in his head.

Man I know this really weird but that's what happened on that session man, at least everyone is safe and happy for now. With the plans of finding ways for the Demon and Rabi together and live a happy life.

Trust me I didn't did the same mistake as that now. At that time I was pretty beginner with DMing, and I mostly plan things out and really have layouts and storyboarding the plot of the sessions. Again I was really dumb and it was half-baked plot.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

[badaseyebags]

hi hru?? ur amazingg

can i request a bada smut, when she comes back from dance class clingy and horny, but reader is cooking (idk, just doing something) and has to finish?

if u dont want/cant write this, its totally ok, dont feel bad and dont pressure yourself too much. love youuuu<333

but first.. dessert ⋆｡°✩ birthday cake

warnings: whiny/needy bada, she’s basically desperate, lots of making out, low-key cringe my apolocheese, it’s cute but it’s also not, bada herself.

word count: 1,5k

authors note: hi dear anon, first of all i would like to apologise for taking so so long to finish writing your request, and also hope you don’t mind me turning this into a birthday piece and not writing full on smut just yet! thank you for requesting, feel free to leave feedback (very appreciated) requests open <3

it’s currently 3 pm and bada’s class doesn’t end until 3:45, meaning she won’t be able to get home anywhere before 5pm. which means.. almost another hour or so of torture. the torture being her not being able to get her hands all over you as she would really wishes she could right now. all she has to do is distract herself for the time being before she can fulfil her wishes. simple enough, right? well it would be, if it wasn’t for the dizzying heat spreading trough out her whole body ..and for the naughty visions she created of you causing her to feel this way. if she could take you right now, right here in her studio, she would. no questions asked. no hesitation. she wouldn’t even care to shut the door, too impatient to get a feel, a taste, a touch, or anything she can. the way she would bend you over and watch you take her from behind and- okay, no. this was getting harder by minute. sometimes she’s thankful she wasn’t born a man, because she would have a “harder” time physically masking what you do to her almost 24/7.

the more she tried “distracting” herself, the more need she ended up feeling towards you. shaking her thoughts off, she continued showing off her dance skills, her movements becoming even more sensual than they usually tend to be. not that anyone minded, they were used to this by now. heck, they even appreciated it if they had to be honest. seeing her grind on the floor and smack the air was nothing out the norm, anyone would of thought she was just in her element. what they didn’t know was that she was imagining you under her the whole time, her cap covering her dark eyes that held nothing but lust at the moment. after what felt like long years it was finally time for her to leave. she didn’t even stay behind for a little talk session with her students as she usually does, politely excusing herself and dashing out the door. she was practically sprinting towards her car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, making her knuckles turn white. she had one priority right now and that’s all that mattered.

meanwhile you were in the kitchen trying to be a sweet good girlfriend for bada, preparing a little birthday surprise for her. not that the breakfast you prepared for her this morning and brought to bed wasn’t enough, or you feeding it to her as her grin grew wider. but you really wanted to surprise her when she comes back. she shouldn’t be home for at least 30 minutes or more like a hour that she usually spends chatting in her studio after her classes. it’s her birthday after all and you’re sure her students won’t let her go so quickly without wishing her all the best and more. you planned to dress up real pretty for her once you finish baking, and according to the clock you still had plenty of time. you were currently wearing nothing but one of bada’s oversized shirts that didn’t do much to cover your body, stopping just in the middle of your thigh, and a cute little apron on top to prevent it from getting dirty as you decorated the first batch of your strawberry vanilla cupcakes, the other still baking in the oven. you had this cute little idea of assembling the cupcakes in the shape of a full cake. it would save a lot of hassle cutting uneven cake slices, you thought. you sigh, sleepily wiping your forehead with the back of your whipped cream covered hand, given that you’ve started baking right after bada’s tall figure left the door just so you could get everything ready in time.

your soft humming to the beat of the song playing in the background was interrupted by an abrupt sound of keys jingling, followed by the handle being turned. you turned your head in surprise blinking in confusion, heart dropping to your feet. feeling a little embarrassed and caught off guard since you wanted all of this to be a surprise, well.. it would of been, if you’ve gotten the chance to finish it. you didn’t even get the chance to fully turn around to face her, to give her a proper greeting before she eloped you in a tight back hug, her large arms securely wrapping themselves around your waist. a place they almost belonged. you could feel her, smell her, and even hear her before you could see her.

“bada! is it 5 already?” you turn your head slightly to get a peek at her unusually out of breath self. she’s in very good shape it’s not likely seeing her so out of breath, unless she just finished dancing, or in this case ran to her to you faster. she just shakes her head, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple making your heart flutter. “no no baby, i just couldn’t wait to get home..” she buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent giving you goosebumps, her voice dropping a little lower. your ears perk up as you suddenly notice her breathing much heavier then usual, her sweaty hands gripping onto your waist a little more possessively than you’re used to. you tried to keep your composure and continue decorating cupcakes, acting as if nothing was going on, but bada’s strange behaviour had your head spinning.

was she… in the mood or something? your suspicions further confirmed themselves as the innocent sniffing turned into rushed pecks to your neck, gradually transforming to soft nibbles and messy kisses. your movements came to a halt, eyes widening as you heard her whine against your skin. “please.. i need you so bad… i had to come home early because i couldn’t help myself.” your hands grip the piping bag out of instinct, causing some of it to spill on the counter and all over your hand. “you’re gonna let me have you right… you’re gonna let me take you… please baby say you will.” she growled into your ear, her hands slowly sliding down your hips and under the thin fabric covering your skin.

“bada i.. i have to finish this, it was supposed to be a surprise-“ you weakly mumble as you feel her large hands rub over the bare skin of your hips. “let me finish you first… you didn’t even wear panties? is that another surprise for me? please, let me have a taste..” she was practically begging at this point, her chest pressed tightly against your back. you couldn’t hold back anymore, turning around to face her was a huge mistake. seeing her in this state only made you weak in the knees. her wavy hair all messed up, sticky bangs pressed against her forehead. cheeks flushed, sweaty clothes sticking to her skin, chest rising up and down with her glossy eyes staring at you with pure desperation. you look up at her admiring her beauty as you cup her cheek, some of the whipped cream leaving a stain behind. she was quick to catch it, her tongue sticking out to lick the remains of the sugary cream as she held your hand against it, moaning softly as she closed her eyes. you’ve decided you had enough, you couldn’t even handle it anymore. with little effort you pulled her face to your level, catching her off guard. her hands fell on the counter behind you, successfully trapping you in the middle as you gave her the softest most gentle loving kiss and pulled away. she whines leaning into another kiss but you pull away again with a gentle giggle to tease her, just to rile her up more.

she huffs as she grips your hips, effortlessly lifting you up on the counter. one of her hands cups your jaw and the other rests on your thigh as she forces herself between them, crashing her lips against yours. this kiss being anything but gentle, unlike the previous one. your arms instinctively wrap around her neck to pull her in closer. she suddenly bites down on your bottom lip, making you shriek but all she does is shiver and kisses you harder, her lips sliding down your jaw and all the way to your neck, painting it in multiple hues of red and purple. you grip onto her hair, partly to make her slow down and partly because you wanted more. “bada slow down, what are you doing-” you lean your head back nonetheless giving her more access to your neck, skilled hand undoing the messy bow of your apron. “decorating my cake before i get to taste it.” she mumbles against your skin, nipping harder as she tosses the apron aside. her kisses trail up higher once again, her voice soon interrupted by the sound of the oven timer going off, her lips swallowing all and any protests before they could ever leave yours.

[tojjist]

telling your fwb that you're going on a date w some of my favs!

includes: Itoshi Rin, Fushiguro Toji, Jing Yuan, gojo (seperate, not in order)

summary: you tell him you're going out on a date to see his reaction. includes fem! reader insert. slightly suggestive - honestly borderline smut, some possessiveness, one mention of cheating but it's a joke

note: characters n reader have mutual feelings, mostly acknowledged. i'm thinking of making this a series so drop your fav characters please! minors, blank and ageless blogs dni

↳ITOSHI RIN

his initial reaction was to just roll his eyes at you.

"you're not funny. who would even go out with you?"

by now you're used to rin being an asshole. he's got a smart mouth and he knows what to say to get on your nerves. so you keep it to a simple, "not you, apparently," to shut him up.

and it does, for only a few minutes.

"why am I only hearing about this now?"

it's ironic how suddenly he's so in your business, unhappy with how you didn't tell him beforehand. rin tries so hard to keep himself in check, not giving you the reaction you wanted. but it devastated him; on his bed, in nothing but a pretty bra and a pair of panties, talking about some other man?

no, rin was not having it at all.

you almost snicker when he says you shouldn't be going out with 'other guys' because you two were having sex. but his argument quickly dies down when you remind him of the first rule he set when you started your nightly- and sometimes daily- sessions: "we're not exclusive"

he thinks of pushing you down the bed, getting his hands all over that pretty body of yours. you won't resist, that he's sure of, but he can't risk seeming desperate, especially not in front of you. that's pathetic.

he mumbles a few things along the lines of 'whatever' and 'let him fuck you with his micropenis'.

but rin is petty, he really is. at least when it comes to you. so he quickly turns to the silent treatment - as if he wasn't mostly silent. he wouldn't text you or respond to your calls for two whole days, which is more reaction than you would have liked. a lot more.

until you were out with some girl friends and you receive a notification.

Rin [2:34 pm]: how was the date.?

once you tell him it was a joke, and how he took your bait like a fish, it's safe to say he was less than pleased. the first thing he does is to invite you over. and as absurd as it is, he tells you to go to his place that very minute. which you don't mind too much.

rin made sure to remind you that no matter who you run to, he'll always be the only one who can please you so good. he's the only one who knows exactly how make you quiver and cry in little time. afterall, your pussy has long since been molded to remember him. aching for him every minute you wake and every second you sleep.

rin made sure you know your place. under him. no other man.

↳ SATORU GOJO

gojo knows he's lucky, he really does. no woman took him the way you do. no woman understood him the way you do. no woman excited him the way you do, in all ways a man could be excited.

so when you tell him that? it's safe to say gojo was about to burst.

of course he is. you're his girl, whether you like it or not - which you do. you can't just go to another sleazy man when you have the strongest himself wrapped around your finger. that's unfair. and your reason? because you wanted to settle? heck, he'll 'settle' for you. he just needed some more time. can't you give him that at least?

"oh? with who?" "he's not a sorcerer, i don't think you know him."

first of all, why would you assume he doesn't know anyone who isn't a sorcerer? that's rude. although he doesn't, it's still rude. and why would you even go out with a non-sorcerer? what could be so special about him that gojo can't offer?

but gojo can't let you go. call it what you want, he's not planning on letting go.

he's not a jealous man. he's the strongest, he has everything a man could want. jealousy is a feeling he's yet to meet. but now it burns in him. although gojo's eyes were ice blue, now they're burning. and the hottest fires always burn blue.

as if second instinct, he's quick to pull you onto his lap, earning a yelp and a wide-eyed look. it's enough to know he's getting what he wants. his fingers reach for that clothed, soft spot between your legs. his long fingers begin to move, slow and steady, making your hips moves softly to the rhythm he's created, begging for more fritction.

his lips ghost against your ears, not exactly touching the sensitive skin but touching it all the same.

"i don't think i know him, no. but i'll make sure you forget him. you don't need a guy like that."

↳FUSHIGURO TOJI

he stared at you for a few seconds, his gaze unreadable. toji is no fool, and he won't play your little game. especially not by your rules. toji is not bound by law, jujutsu, physical limit, or society. he won't let you mess around. not when he's so desperate to see you, albeit afraid of the commitment. not when he left his entire life, slowly becoming the perfect man so he could give you everything.

"what a silly joke. you know i'm not that dumb, don't you?"

he knows he's right when you stop for a fraction of a second, trying to contain your pretty smile. you deny, telling him that you're completely serious. you wanted a relationship, and you wanted to finally be able to be at 'peace'.

"oh really?" he quirks a brow, a look of clear amusement on his face. "that's too bad, i don't think women who cheat can find peace."

"it's just a single date, toji. i'm not cheating on him." "not yet," he flips you around so you're laying right under his bulk form. you giggle, and it confirms his suspicions further. you were just testing him. good, he'll make sure this stays just a joke.

"hmm? are you jealous, toji?" "of who?" he's quick. he's smart. and he won't let you mess around like that without getting something in return. he leans in, close to your neck. one of his hands find your waist, softly caressing the skin with calloused fingers. "we both know who you'll actually be with tonight."

↳JING YUAN

the general was in love with you. absolutely, utterly, completely in love. he couldn't admit it, not to you or to himself. but as your nights with him turned from one while you're drunk to more than he could possibly count, you infatuated him. you invaded him, corrupting his thoughts and time and feelings.

yuan wasn't sure if he was right for you, although he knew you were right for him. he didn't want to jump into a relationship he was unsure could last. yuan didn't think he could give you what you want, and you sure as hell wouldn't back down from what you deserve. that's why he admired you so much. you weren't easy. you won't allow him to bend you to his liking. you were a challenge he enjoyed.

"hmm? who's the lucky gentleman?"

jealousy was obvious, clear as day. disdain dripped from his usually sweet words. yuan was not taking the news too well, and it shows despite his soft smile.

"kaoru," you say a name he doesn't know. "do you know him?"

"i don't recall someone with such a name," he confessed, his eyes narrowing in thought. he tries but he doesn't know anyone wit that name. "is he good looking?"

you smile a little at his reaction, pleased with the jealousy he's showing. "i don't know. he's not my type, but i'm exploring options."

"what am i then? an option?" you almost snicker at the amount of petty in his question. he wants to confirm his worth, make sure that he's above comparison to you.

"don't be cruel, yuan," you give him the satisfaction of an answer. "it's not like that."

yuan tries to convince you to stay, kissing all over your neck just how you like it, reminding you who you're with and how you need not find another man because it is yuan you belong with. before he knows it it's heated, and he finds himself craving you more than ever.

"i want you," he whispers, one hand tangled in your hair and breath ragged.

"i'm yours to take, yuan."

usually, that's enough for him. but jealousy thrums in him and he pushes a little of you, his expression dark but it's not lust this time. "you're not," he breathes. his eyes study your feverish eyes. "you're going out with another man."

your eyes widen, you were so lost in him you forgot.

"shut up," you pull him towards you, mouths meeting in a lewd kiss. "it was a joke. "

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[tomsvouge]

Bad Idea Right?

Pairings: Ex!Joe burrow x Ex!Reader Warnings:Alcohol use, situationship, mentions of sex Summary- What happens when y/n gets a text message from someone in her past that her friends are not fond of? Her friends tell her not to go but it can’t be a bad idea…. right?

Who would have thought I would end the night with him, In his bed cuddled with him like we are together. Should I regret it? Probably. Do I regret it? Hell no! Have you seen this man he is literally a walking hercules and who am I to block an opportunity that I was given. Anyways, you may be asking, "y/n what the heck are you even talking about?". Well let's go back to earlier in the day where everything started.

My friends and I were talking about throwing a party and I couldn't be more excited. I needed something to get my mind off of him. Me and Joe are kinda rocky when it comes to a relationship. We broke up about two months ago. Usually when two people break up they dont talk to each other, buttttt me and Joe have been sneaking around for the past two weeks. No one knows about this, not my friends, not his friends just sneaking around like two teenagers. 

As we all sit on my couch we start talking about party details, y’know the time, who to invite the food, all that good boring stuff when out of nowhere melody says this.

“Well since we're talking about personal invites I don't think you should invite Joe y/n”- Melody 

“Why would I invite Joe? We're done. Over” I said lying through my teeth knowing that we were still hooking up.

“I'm just saying you seem to be tense each time you see him. Like that one time we were watching tv and his Bose ad came on. You looked like you saw a ghost.” She says laughing.

“I was Just shocked at his dance moves, I thought I taught him better when we took that dance class.” and that was true we did take a dance class but let's just say, Joeys not dancing for a while.

“I wasn't the worst i've seen but also not the best”- Kaylee says while  writing something down.

OK! Can we stop talking about my ex, kinda getting weird. 

“Ok but just know Joe Burrow is not allowed through these doors.” Melody says in a serious tone.

“Got it Not allowed through the doors.” I say looking at her. 

“I'll just let him in the backyard” I say in my head.

Getting ready for the party I put on my outfit and did my makeup. As I'm putting on my mascara I get a facetime. I look at the screen and immediately knew it was joe as his contact name is “LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷” showed up. Reluctantly I picked up the phone.

“What?” I say in a aggravated tone 

“Well hello to you too” Joe says, rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone.

 “What are you doing?” he says, trying to change the vibe of the call.

Getting ready-i say in a sassy tone.

“For?”- Joe

“My party”-y/n

“And i didnt get an invite?” joe says with that cocky smile on his face 

“Didn't think you needed one considering we were not really together”- I say side eyeing him so hard you could feel it.

“Just because we're not together doesn't mean we cant be friends”- joe 

“If this is what you call just friends I would love to see what you do with people you hate.” i say laughing

“You know what i mean” - Joe

“Friends dont have sex nearly every night and talk to each other the way we do.”- y/n

“Well friends also don't hide things from each other” Joe says, placing the phone down so I could see him.

“I didn't invite you because you are not allowed to come, you are not exactly on my friend's good side right now.”- y/n

 My friend did not like Joeto much after the shit they had heard about him from endless phone calls to late night gossip sessions at the house. He didn't hurt me like cheat or anything. He is actually a nice guy but anyone who plays mind games and gaslights is a no no in my friend's book.

“Nothing new, I wasn't on their good side when we were together.”- Joe

“But since I can't come to you, how about you come to me?”- Joe 

“And why would I do that?” I genuinely asked because who was he to think I would leave my own party for him.

Because we can't get enough of each other no matter how hard we try we both know that we will all go back.

And Joe was right, no matter how hard I tried to move on, no one seemed to understand me like Joe does. He knows everything about me. He accepts me for who I am and vice versa. Still sad we didn't work out due to commitment and trust issues. I think when the time's right Joe and I will be perfect for eachother.

“Well I'll think about it.”- I say 

“Good, let me know when you decide.” - Joe

I was having the time of my life. My friends made sure I didn't even think about joe. So much that I forgot to even remind him if I was coming or not. 

In the middle of taking group shots I feel a vibrate coming from my hip.

LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷- u still coming??

“Don't do it.”-Kaylee says, looking over my shoulder.

“Who said I was?”

“You didn't say that but the look on your face said otherwise.”

“Okay but would you pass up a chance to just go back to your ex for one night.” 

“One night more like two weeks but she didn't need to know that right now.”

“No I wouldn't, he cheated and I'll be damned if I go back to him just to disrespect myself again.”

“Well I won't if i will make you happy.”

“Good”

Okay sooo im going to his house. You guys may say I have little respect for myself but all the respect leaves my body when I see that man. You get in a room alone with Joe Burrow and see how long you last without being all over him. Plus, can't be that bad of an idea right?

With my luck the rain decided to pour harder and completely drench me. Rushing to my car I hopped in and started it. I quickly texted Joe back telling him I was on my way. Thankfully The drive from my house to joes is not that far at all. Getting out of the car rushing to get to the front door as the rain came down on me. When I kid you not to say this man is a QB he is not quick on his feet off the field. I literally took him forever to open the door. 

Walking in the house I'm immediately tackled into hugs and kisses . After a while pushing wavy from him I decided I needed to put my clothes somewhere because wet clothes just don't feel comfortable. 

Eventually me and Joe decided to chill on the couch and talk for a while. And lets just say after the talk and cuddles the door was locked to that bedroom and that's how we got to this morning 

I woke up to like a million texts from my friends asking me why I disappeared in the middle of the party and I just told them all that I didn't feel well and went up early to sleep. Looking over left I see Joe sleeping with his arms wrapped around me. Part of me felt bad for lying to my friends about going to sleep early but technically i did lie i said I was sleep I just didn't say where.

hey guys! I'm gonna try to start putting out more fics . I chose to do this as a fun hobby and I just don't want it to feel and chore or job but if you want to request fics you are welcome to do so 🩷

[firstdivisiongirl]

i love your works, they are amazing! if you don't mind could you write a one shot with Baji x reader, where they are 12-13(maybe before boys formed toman or just formed), she can be his friend, classmate, tutor, neighbour, Emma's friend, whatever your prefer, and Baji is so in love with her that everybody can see it and reader also knows it and his friends tease him A LOT. and maybe you can write how he confessed his love and his friends helped him(while they are still 12-13)

Hi there. Thank you for the compliment. So, I was already writing something similar to this requests, but with an OC. I changed it from OC to Reader insert. I love the idea of the other founding members meddling in the others' love lives. I hope you enjoy!

Keisuke Baji x Fem Reader: Fifteen Minutes

Baji was acting really different and all of his friends could see it.  They didn’t know why, but he was.  He kept telling them he had to go somewhere and that he’d be back in 15 minutes.  Well, one day they decided to follow him and see where he was going.  Low and behold, it was to see a girl?  They watched as Baji talked to her.  He looked really happy and in love.  It was weird to see Baji that way.  Before they knew it they heard him say, “sorry, I gotta go.  I’ll see you tomorrow for our usual tutoring session.”  He was in love with his tutor, they all questioned.  Looks like they’re playing matchmaker.

***

When Baji got back to where they were hanging out, everyone was waiting with a dumb grin.  Mitsuya laughed, “So, didn’t know fifteen was a girl’s name?  You know if there was a girl you liked we wouldn’t make fun of you.  We are your friends.”

Baji blushed, “I don’t like her like that.  She’s my tutor.”

Draken laughed, hitting Baji on the back, “if she’s just your tutor, then why are you blushing?”

“Don’t talk, man!  We all know about your crush on Emma.”

“But I’m not afraid to admit I like her.  Dude, just ask her out.  We’re only twelve.  If she says no, it’s not a big deal.”

Baji sighed, “fine, but no meddling from any of you.”

You were waiting for Baji to come to your house for your weekly tutoring session.  Usually he’d come early so you two could get studying finished and then have some time to hang out at the end.  If you weren’t clueless about feelings, you’d think he’d liked you.  But, he wasn’t there yet.  You thought maybe he forgot or something came up last minute.  But it was unlike him not to call either.  Suddenly the ringing of the doorbell interrupted your racing thoughts.  When you opened it, thankfully it was Baji, but he was holding a bouquet of flowers?  “Here,” he said, shoving it into your face and trying to hide his bright pink blush.  You blinked a few times in confusion.  “Is everything okay, Keisuke,” you asked as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“Yes and no.  My friends are annoying me about something, but I get to hang out with you so it’s good,” he replied, flashing his famous toothy grin.”

“What are they annoying you about?”

“Well, they convinced me to ask out this girl I like, even though I’m nervous, too.  It’s just that, we have a really good thing going and I don’t want that to change.”

“I’d say just go for it!  Just ask her out.  If she really enjoys spending time with you, she won’t hate you if you tell her.”

“Fine,”  Baji took a deep breath, “I like you Y/N.  A lot.  My favorite time is when we hang out.  Heck, I even enjoy studying with you.  So…you wanna..”

“Yes,” you interrupted abruptly.  He looked at you shocked, “you didn’t let me finish!  I had this all rehearsed,” you interrupted him again by kissing him quickly on the lips.  “Come on, let’s get to studying

He was happy now that he didn’t have to sneak off to see you for only fifteen minutes anymore.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[hollowsart]

@chromacryptid

HONESTLY Yeah. That and like.. the flanderization….

Otto is a meek character who stutters and shows signs of struggling to stand up for himself. He bottles up his thoughts and sometimes it gets the better of him. He's paranoid and has so much at stake and feels he literally cannot escape.

Doc Ock is the release of Otto's frustrations and also his succumbing to his paranoia. He's bottled himself up enough to lash out and demand "respect" in the form of fear cuz that's all he's ever been shown from all we could tell.

People take these two sides and have kinda turned him into a parody of his character. This is a phenomenon that happens so often within fandom spaces. it's one thing if you're doing it as an obvious joke and you're more than aware of the deeper elements to the character and how they truly act.

it's another when you're doing it seriously.

Also, I don't think a whole lot of these people really understand what it's like to be a shy/timid/meek person, especially as an adult and how it's not something that can be easily overcome. There's a whole other world inside our minds that we battle with. our experiences are completely different from how media will often depict it. I know from my own experiences and my own personal struggle to find any characters who I really truly relate to without them being subjected to the one trope I hate the most "shy character learns to be bold and brash and confident and is no longer even the same character by the end"

Anxiety and paranoia and especially social anxiety.. they create one heck of a cocktail combination. a real nasty one.

allow me to go on a slight tangent here:

The way in which Otto acts as Doc Ock after the incident really shows how he still has elements of his old self in there.

He doesn't truly know what he's doing. He's acting how he thinks a strong person acts.... he's acting kinda how he thinks Norman does, if you really think about it. After all,

Otto thinks a LOT about his actions and what he's going to do next and what is probably a good plan. He tries not to just jump right into things, shutting down some of the others in the Sinister Six when they mention stuff that can be awfully rash. but even Otto has resorted to that himself. "Sorry Rhino, but we are doing this my way" and his outbursts when he is being belittled and rendered helpless by Spider-Man.

He holds his actuators in high regard and it feels like all an act in a sense when he's in prison and breaking out with the others trying to maintain his facade of confidence and superiority over the other members of their group. That is, until he gets his actuators back. without them he feels he's back to being weak and he has had enough of that, he doesn't want that. he's gotten a taste of the freedom and he wants to chase it.

He was so good at pretending to be back to his old self during that therapy session and when he plotted his own kidnapping, the fear and behavior.. it was all so natural for him.

but you could still tell with a couple lines when Electro was talking to him that he was acting, the lines he said sounded off. scripted almost.

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 6 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

This is a bit longer than usual because it took me a while to find a stopping point that I felt made sense, but I'm really excited to keep writing this series, after all it's only just beginning! Thanks for your patience :)

Part 5 here

Warnings: None

Word count: 3.9k

“Mustard leaf,” The small murmur makes you look up from your desk. You hadn’t even heard the door open, but in front of you stands your man-of-little-words royal advisor. He tilts his head, his question remaining wordless, and you sigh, “Good morning Inumaki, no I am not alright, but I suppose it’s partially my fault so I have no right to complain,”

He frowns and pulls a chair up, resting his elbows on the desk, “Salmon,” He encourages you softly, “Salmon salmon,” You take that as encouragement to speak up about your woes and so you put down your pencil, “I can feel him out there,” You murmur.

“I can feel his pain clearly now, I can feel how uncomfortable he still is here, he pretends for my sake but I wish he would tell me what he wants,” Inumaki pulls a blank sheet of paper and borrows your pencil, scrawling something quickly. News of his father?

You shake your head, “Nothing so far, but the coronation is in a few days…” You trail off, rubbing the scar on your cheek, “It seems his paranoia has rubbed off on me, I haven’t slept well since this happened,” You gesture to the thin line of crudely healed skin. He taps his masked chin with the tip of the pencil before writing something else: My technique, help you sleep?

Seriously contemplating it for a second you get lost in the idea of finally getting a full night of rest but you shake your head, “As much as I’d appreciate the help, I can’t risk not being of right mind if something does happen, I need to be able to lead my people especially this close to the coronation,”

“Bonito flakes,” He grumbles, pushing the paper towards you again. You cannot lead on no sleep. “He’s right, you need sleep my lady,” Gojo’s voice rings out from the doorway, which you once again hadn’t heard open.

“What are you doing here? What happened at the training session?” You ask quickly, pushing to your feet and stepping around the desk towards him. He pushes his hood back, adjusting the blindfold over his eyes and dipping his head respectfully, “Ryomen is incredibly strong, and more than willing to learn, but occasionally I have noticed that he struggles with internal conflicts. I don’t know if this is some remnant curse placed on him by his father or if this is just his lingering discomfort,”

You look back out the window past your desk, leaning your hands on the old cherry wood as you sigh. “Your highness,” Gojo says, “I have reason to believe that Ryomen’s bloodline, on his mother’s side, was incredibly powerful. Maybe even more so than his father,” You clench your hands into fists, trying to control your breathing.

You’d brought him here, if he turned out to be a threat it would be your fault. But… he’d been so willing, so pliable. Maybe even too pliable. You’d never wanted control of him, you’d only wanted to save him from his father.

His damned father, seemingly the root cause of all of this. “Jin Itadori doesn’t have a recorded domain expansion, but Ryomen is strong enough that there is no doubt he does, maybe even one without a barrier,” This makes you look back at the blindfolded sorcerer, your blood going cold, “…What did you just say?”

It’s not as if you’d doubted it for a second, from the moment you met him you knew deep down he must’ve had a domain, whether he knew it or not. Heck, you had one and you aren’t even half as powerful as he is.

“Mustard leaves!” Inumaki exclaims towards Gojo, before grabbing your hand and making you look to him instead of getting lost in your thoughts, “Salmon, salmon,” He emphasises the positive affirmation of his linguistic range, “Tuna,” He grabs the paper again and shows it to you.

Do you trust him? You look up into his purple eyes, slowly shaking your head, “I don’t know, I don’t know, can I anymore?” You whisper, “What is his domain? What is his technique?” You ask Gojo. “We… haven’t figured that out yet, in fact he doesn’t even know that I’m here, I came here to talk to you while he spars hand-to-hand with Geto,”

Your shoulders droop again at the mention of your personal guard, “I still need to apologise to him,” You murmur. “You did nothing wrong,” Inumaki’s voice is a bit hoarse and hesitant, but there’s no chance that sentence could affect you in any way despite the soft wave of cursed energy that washes over your ears, “He should apologise,”

Gojo slaps a hand over his mouth and Inumaki apologises quickly before falling quiet again. “Sorry your highness!” Gojo blurts, before poking his tongue out, “Blegh! God I hate when you do that,” Inumaki grumbles wordlessly and folds his arms, making you smile slightly at the mishap, “Gojo will you fetch Geto for me? Tell him I need to speak with him,”

He nods, “Oh, and let Ryomen know he’s free to sleep in the castle tonight if he wishes, I know how cold the sorcerer tower can be, I’ll have the maids prepare the room across the hall,” You bite your thumbnail a little, “I… I think?” “You think?” He raises a snowy eyebrow, half turned to leave. “I…” You shake your head, “Yes, tell him that, Inumaki will you tell my maids to prepare the room opposite mine?”

Your advisor nods, writing the instruction on a separate piece of paper before the two men leave, allowing you to slump back into your chair. You pick up the pencil again and scrawl down a quick note addressed to your husband detailing first an apology, then your wish for him to become accustomed to Iqoria in his own time, and finally informing him that your decision was not made without hesitation and anxiety, but you need him to come to you when he is ready and you will no longer command him if he doesn’t wish to be commanded.

Once the letter is finished there is a knock at the door and you sign it, “Come in,” You look up at Geto who looks nervous, something you hate seeing on his face particularly because he’s been your rock for almost your entire life. A second older brother, a guardian, someone you can lean on. Now he looks like a scared dog, hackles raised, a cut on his cheek matching your own.

“You wished to see me your highness?” You screw your eyes shut for a moment, rubbing your forehead to try and rid yourself of the memories of your bloody nightgown, “Yes, please sit down,” You gesture to the chair Inumaki left behind.

He moves to sit, keeping his hands neatly folded in his lap as you look up to him. A drop of blood trails down his cheek and he scrunches his nose slightly, trying to ignore it as you quietly watch him. You reach over the desk and wipe your thumb over the cut, feeling him flinch slightly as your energy stings the wound, sealing it up neatly.

It won’t scar, not like yours has. “Suguru,” You murmur, bringing your arm back to your body, his blood drying and making the tip of your thumb slightly tacky. “Your highness,” He breathes, refusing to meet your gaze, “You have my sincerest apologies for the way I have been acting since the ball in Khoccadia,”

You hadn’t summoned him here for this, but you know he needs it so you allow him to continue.

“I… Forgive me for overstepping but you are my sister, not by blood but by soul, and… and I don’t want to lose you. The prince is powerful, more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met before, and if I can’t protect you from him if the need arises then what use am I?” You can sense his frustration, he stands and starts pacing the room, his strides long as he flexes his knuckles.

After he does a few laps of the room he takes a deep breath, “Your highness, please say something,” He whispers.

“Y/n,” You reply softly, “Suguru, it’s always just been Y/n for you,” A tear slips down his cheek through the smear of blood, leaving a clean trail, “Our societal standings would say the opposite,” You shake your head, “This isn’t the ancient times, Suguru, you grew up alongside me,” You stand up, smoothing out your skirts, “Though we quarrel now and then, I don’t want to stop being able to trust you. I want to be able to look to you if I need a shoulder,”

Though you don’t move around the desk to him, he still dips his head slightly at your words, “I accept your apology, and would like to extend my own, in the hopes that when Ryomen’s discipline training is complete you will return to your post as my personal guard, renewed and stronger than ever,”

You see his shoulders stiffen slightly and he looks back up into your eyes, searching for something within them, “You… still want me to protect you?” You nod, “Of course you will have the help you always have had from the other guards, but I need you Suguru,” You say simply, “I am to be Queen, and the Queen chooses her guard, does she not? Who better than the Captain himself?”

He nods, “Yes, she does, thank you for your kindness princess,” He whispers as if he still doesn’t believe it. You nod, satisfied with how the meeting has gone, “Now, the coronation is in three days and I expect you and your guards to be looking their best, understood Captain?”

He nods, his smile returning softly, “I will make sure of it,” “Go then, and take my blessings and well-wishes for the guards with you,” He sweeps out of the room with renewed confidence, but yours is only crushed more so. With a wave of your hand the door is pulled shut by one of the guards outside and you sit heavily back in your chair, rubbing your temples with fingers sore from writing all day.

A few rogue thoughts cross your mind and you find yourself wishing for company, but loathing the idea of conversation. You don’t know who you would call to talk anyway. Ryomen doesn’t want to be around you right now, you sent Inumaki away, Shoko would just tell you about your parents and even your maids have become closed off in the wake of your brother’s death.

Perhaps they fear that you’ll become harsher upon your ascension to the throne, but what good would that serve you? Turning your own people against you would be a foolish move, especially now.

Your mind begins to wander amongst a dark forest of thoughts and questions you’re not even sure you want the answers to. Why was Ryomen so powerful? Who was his mother? Why do you feel so drawn to him? And why can’t you shake the sickening feeling that something awful is happening beyond the city walls?

His father, of course, must be rallying his forces to march on your kingdom. This you’re sure of, you didn’t personally meet the man but you could tell just by looking at him that he doesn’t play by halves. No, there’s something else, something just beyond your sight that you can’t put your finger on.

You scribble another letter, marking it with the royal seal, before leaving the room with your head held high, both letters clutched in your hands. The first, detailing a search mission, you give to Gojo’s apprentice Yuta Okkotsu, equally strong to his teacher and loyal beyond mortal ties. The second, addressed to your husband, you ask Yuta to deliver before he leaves as you don’t know which room Ryomen will seek refuge in tonight.

~

“You didn’t think I’d just let you leave, right?” A voice pierces the darkness and a form melts from the shadows. It’s Megumi, and Choso puts himself between the Shikigami user and his brothers, “Not without a fight it seems,” The man growls, his hands clenched as he summons his energy.

Thanks to his father’s experiments Choso is no longer human, cursed with his father’s ambitions and his toxic pride he finds himself unable to die from his own technique, a form of extensive blood manipulation that hasn’t been seen for many centuries. He knows he must reveal this trump card to his brothers if he wishes for them to escape, but before he has the chance to make a move Megumi steps fully into the light, brushing a few stray hairs from his face.

“Come on, your dad will be able to sense us going, if we want to get out it has to be quick,” Choso hears Yuji sigh with relief behind him and he reluctantly lowers his guard, “You’re not here to stop us?” “Look I ran away from one awful family, I’m not about to stop you from running from another, in fact I’d much rather go with you,”

Kechizu shifts on Yuji’s back, “Is that Megumi?” He asks quietly, “Is he coming with us?” “Yes, yes he is,” Yuji murmurs, “But we have to go now,” The group makes their way under the protection of Megumi’s shadows to the stables, where they take no more than three horses and ride out into the night, Eso sharing with Choso and Kechizu still clinging to Yuji.

Megumi out the front leads with Nue high in the sky, keeping watch behind. They stay off the main roads, barely able to see Nue above through the trees but following behind Megumi’s confident form as he pushes a path through the underbrush on his black stallion.

They ride well into the morning as Nue calls out every so often, warning them of travellers or hunting parties, but none are so foolish as to stray from the path and stumble into the runaways.

“We will reach the Creyarean district by midday, I recommend we stop there to eat and then continue on, if you wish to reach Iqoria as close to the coronation as possible we cannot waste time,” Megumi informs the group as he drops back slightly, “Does your brother know you’re coming?”

Choso and Yuji exchange a glance, “He doesn’t,” Eso answers for them, “But… but he won’t send us away, will he?” He looks to Choso, “He might be mean but he loves us, right?” Choso finds he cannot reply, only nodding to the fifteen-year-old. Eso and Kechizu are so small for their age, both sharing Choso’s technique which came from a close family of lords they were related to distantly by blood, but Yuji inherited an ancient family technique from their mother’s side instead.

Ryomen had ended up with a deadly combination of Jin Itadori’s technique and something he’d never revealed to them from his mother, something that amplified his power beyond safe limits and had driven Jin Itadori to curse the castle with a powerful suppression technique. It had taken a toll on the five boys, Ryomen the least, and weakened them all so much that Choso found he couldn’t perform his duties or attend to his studies to their fullest.

Now that they were free, now that they were gone, Choso could feel the cursed energy surging through his body, could feel his connection to his brothers through their blood clear as the sun shining above. It also meant he could reach out and sense Ryomen in the mist, more shrouded than the other three because of their different lineage, but still there. Still alive.

He didn’t know if he was comforted by the knowledge, but it certainly made him feel better to be able to sense all of his brothers again. “You stay here, I’ll go and get food from the market,” Megumi breaks into Choso’s thoughts as they approach the edge of the outer Creyarean district. “You can’t go in there alone-!” Yuji exclaims, but Megumi shoots him a glare.

“You two stand out too much,” He looks between Yuji and Choso, “And we can’t leave Eso and Kechizu on their own, just stay here,” He urges his horse towards the buildings, “If you see Nue without me, ride like the wind for Iqoria and don’t look back, once you’re inside their borders you should be safe,”

None of the boys liked that answer, that meant leaving Megumi behind in an unfamiliar place with people who more than likely wanted to kill him for assisting their escape. Once the Captain is gone, Yuji looks at Choso, “We’re not leaving him behind,” He grunts, “I don’t care if you’re older, this is non-negotiable,”

“If we’re not leaving Megumi behind, then we’re sending Eso and Kechizu on without us,” Choso shoots back, standing his ground, “They’re still not strong enough to help us,” “We’re strong!” Eso complains, but Choso shoots him a look, “Kechizu cannot navigate the world unaided as of right now, and you can barely control your technique, you’re no match on a battlefield with experienced fighters, understand?”

Eso slumps down onto his butt, Kechizu shuffling until he’s sat nestled against his brother’s side, “Just… be careful,” Kechizu murmurs, looking up in Choso’s direction with his black eyes, “Please big brother,” The black haired prince clenches his fists, gritting his teeth, “I would tear apart the heavens and the earth to keep you all safe, careful comes second, that is my non-negotiable,”

~

Nothing in this world can prepare you for the overwhelming loneliness of your bed inevitably being empty tonight. Despite the fact it has been a few days since you liberated Ryomen from his cage at your side, you felt even less prepared to return to your chambers where you know the sheets will remain cold even with the fire in the fireplace set to burn until the morning.

So its at your desk you remain, the dying light of the sun at your back not serving as distraction enough to make you raise your head. You’ve been reading up on old coronation customs, reading the literary accounts of your mother’s coronation and looking through the designs you chose for the day itself.

From your dress, the flower arrangements, jewellery and most importantly the tiara which will serve as your unique ‘casual’ diadem separate from the official state crown. Your mother had a hand in designing it, you could tell from the ways in which it would inevitably complement your features such as your face shape and hair type.

After signing a few official documents regarding civilian movement and protection orders, you lean back in your chair, slipping your feet out of your comfortable heels and tucking your knees up to your chest. It can get so daunting in the endless quiet, the stone floor of the castle layered with thick carpet dampening almost every sound and making you feel isolated.

Minutes pass and you eventually curl up, the chair big enough to support you sitting sideways pretty comfortably, resting your head and taking in the details of your skirts. Maybe you could go to Geto, but would he welcome you with open arms or do you still need to regain his loyalty? Inumaki is a no, you’ll just be tempted to ask him to put you to sleep.

“My lady?” A voice beyond the door calls for you and you look up, inviting them in. It’s one of the guards stationed at the door, her face young but downturned with worry, “Do you wish for us to accompany you to your chambers?” She asks.

You stay quiet for a few moments before sighing, “I do not wish to return to the emptiness of my rooms, but if I must then I will,” She smiles softly, “Surely you do not intend to sleep in here my lady?” You smile sadly in return, “In fact that is exactly what I was intending,” After a few moments where the guard shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say, she bows her head.

“Come, allow us to accompany you to your rooms, it will be much more comfortable despite the emptiness,” Eventually you stand, leaning down and grabbing your shoes so you don’t have to put them back on, “Lead the way then ma’am,” You gesture with an arm and the pair of them, the other a middle-aged gentleman, guide you unobstructed through the halls back to your room.

You’ve been unable to look at the bedsheets without seeing flashes of blood, feeling twinges of phantom pain in your cheek, “Will you be alright?” The female guard asks you, her hand resting on the doorknob as you stand just inside, thinking deeply. You look back to her, “Yes, I think I will be, will you send for Shoko? I want to see if she can do anything about this scar,” You gesture to your face.

With a nod, the door swings shut and you’re alone once more. This is what you dreaded, being left with only your thoughts for company, but you decide to passively fight back by quickly drawing a bath for yourself to cleanse your mind. The warmth envelops your body and you sigh, slouching down until just your head is above water. The foetal position becomes your safe space, your ankles crossed and legs hugged tightly to your chest.

It’s not long before you doze off, the weight of the day finally pushing you under as you go back over everything, making sure you didn’t forget anything important. “Your highness?” A call from your room rouses you from your drowsy state. You’re irritated for a few seconds before you remember you called for Shoko, “In here,” You grumble.

“Your guards said you wanted to see me about the scar?” She asks as she comes into the bathroom, moving until she’s sat beside the bathtub on the floor, “Is it bothering you?” You reach up to it, bringing your hand out of the water and running your fingers over where you know it lies, “Not visually, but it stings from time to time,” You explain, “Can you get rid of it?”

She nods, “It’s also probably a good idea because it cuts through one of your tattoos,” She murmurs, examining it a little closer as she leans over the tub, the ends of her hair draping into the water and getting wet. Her thumb passes over your cheek and though you feel nothing, she nods to herself, “There, now you’ll be perfect for coronation day,” She blinks drowsily, “Any news from Khoccadia?”

You shake your head, “I wish he would just do something, I hate waiting, every passing day is another day that my people are threatened by an enemy I cannot strike first,” You sigh, leaning your head back, “Will you pass me a towel?” She stands up and grabs one of the fluffy white towels on the shelf nearby, leaving it at the edge of the bath for you to grab, “Will you be needing your maids?”

You shake your head, “As much as the silence is killing my morale, I need to be alone,” You scoop some water and rub it into your face a little, “I’ll be alright, go get some sleep yourself,”

She leaves, and you spend a good few minutes crying. At least this way nobody will be able to tell when you get out of the bath, or tomorrow morning when you wake up.

Where are you when I need you the most?

Where is anyone when I need them?

~

It’s only a matter of time.

After all, we have him now.

We have everything we need to topple the thrones of man.

“This is going to be fun!”

I hope you're all enjoying it so far :) much love

Part 7

Taglist: @love-jelly @nousija

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Omfg congrats on the 2222! I’m sure many more to come!

Alright , hear me out. This idea consumed my brain the entire weekend.

AU Stripper!Frankie

I know, kinda out of character for him, but I can’t help it.

I recently « stumble » upon Magic Men of Australia on tik tok and instantly my mind went to Frankie.

Reader could be at his show and he chose her to come up on stage … after that , you write what you want .

What do you think Cee ?

Sweet anon - I am saving the best for last! Ngl, I might have drooled several times while writing stripper!Frankie. I might also have blacked out when I first saw your ask, thank you for sending in this delicious request. I hope you enjoy this cheeky oneshot, because 1.4k does not count as a drabble 😂 This reminds me of my dearest LJ's @prolix-yuy SW!Frankie universe, do go read it if you haven't yet!

Frankie Morales x stripper AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1460 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, bachelorette party (mis)behaviour, mentions of food

Okay, this is definitely not your scene.

The said scene being a rowdy bachelorette party in an intimate, soundproofed room draped in plush dark velvet and deep-seated sofas, disco lights pulsing in time with the booming bass that shakes your bones. 

And oh, and there’s a half-naked stripper gyrating to the music. Obviously.

Not that he doesn’t look good doing it. He absolutely does, and not in that chiselled, perfectly sculpted way you imagined all strippers would look like. He’s hot in a realistic way, if that makes sense - his arms are strong, his chest is broad and firm, but there’s just a touch of softness to his tummy that makes him human. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen a naked man. Heck, who are you kidding, when was the last time you even saw a topless man?

But he might as well be completely starkers. The shorts he’s wearing are glorified panties, paper thin, and they do nothing to conceal the fact that he’s hung. You can see the whole business, front and back. For someone as well packed as he is between the legs, his behind is endearingly flat, but mercifully, it doesn’t seem to compromise his balance in any way.

The lean muscles in his arms flex and roll when he locks his hands behind his head, thighs bulging with corded muscle as he plants his feet, and then he thrusts - his bulge swinging heavily, defying gravity. 

He’s got to be half-hard, at least. There’s no way he’s that big standing at ease, so to speak. 

Of course, the girls are going wild. They’re screaming and hyperventilating, Cosmpolitans sloshing over manicured nails and staining their dresses as they throw dollar bills at him. He obliges, crawling onto the couch on all fours so that they can tuck the cash into the waistband of his shorts, copping a feel as they do.

Frankie doesn’t mind it. He plays along, grabbing the bride-to-be’s wrist after she smacks him on the ass, shoving her back into the couch before clambering over her. Getting onto his knees, he dances right in her face, grinning when she squeals and reaches around his waist to grab both his ass cheeks as he rolls his hips.

His eyes slide over to you, sitting a polite distance away as the other girls crowd around him, getting close and personal, not wanting to miss out on the action.

You, on the other hand, look like you’d rather be curled up in the far corner with a book and a warm drink. But he can tell that you’re trying your best, sipping away at your cocktail (with an endearing wince that you try to hide when you swallow), and bobbing to the music even though you’re clearly feeling out of place around your more outgoing friends.

Being the quiet one out of the guys, he gravitates towards your energy. 

Frankie always makes sure all of his customers have a good time in his session and that no one is left out, but he also wants you to be comfortable. Quietening his hips, he hops off the couch, taking two steps towards you, watching as your eyes widen, as if you want to bolt.

One corner of his lips inching upwards, he unfurls his fingers towards you, and the smile widens when you fit your smaller hand in the heart of his palm with a shy one of your own. Pulling you gently onto your feet, he surprises you with a firm tug next, spinning you around with your back to his chest. 

You smell sweet, like shampoo and soap. Not letting go of your hand, he puts his other one on your hip, and you instantly stiffen when your friends screech in excitement, obviously not used to being the centre of attention. 

Hooking his chin on your shoulder, he sways you to the music, his hips snug against yours. He feels you inhale sharply when his breath skims your skin, the shiver that goes through you unmistakable. He revels in your reaction, far more real and intimate than your friends’ drunken wandering hands. 

You slowly thaw in his arms, the tension easing out of your shoulders where the straps of your pretty dress sit, and he knows that you don’t mean to tease when the swell of your ass brushes his front, bolder as you move your hips to the beat.

When the song draws to a close far too soon, he turns you around, wrapping one arm around your waist to dip you backwards. You let go of his hand to grasp the back of his neck on reflex, and he takes the opportunity to glide one palm up the smooth expanse of your leg, before hitching it around his waist.

He sees more than hears the whimper that slips past your lips, and he may or may not be half-hard when he presses his hips between your thighs.

As your friends holler and wolf-whistle around you, he holds your gaze, not missing how your pupils blow wide in the flashing lights.

Then you duck your head, and he lets you go, the bride-to-be demanding his attention.

You happily fade into the background again, but he catches the way your knees buckle when you wobble on your heels back to the sofa.

You’re fucking adorable. 

The guys are tallying the tips for the bookkeeper in the break room when Pope comes in with a phone in his hand. ‘Fish, one of your customers left this behind. Do you know whose it is?’

Tapping on the lock screen - he sucks in a breath when you appear, posing with a big golden retriever. Your face is turned up into the sun, eyes closed in mid-laugh as the dog licks you on your cheek.

With a grunt, Frankie gets on his feet, a dull ache in the small of his back, which always happens when he thrusts a bit too vigorously. Tucking the phone safely in his pocket, he grabs his jacket and strides out, not seeing the guys looking curiously after him as he tosses over his shoulder, ‘Send me her address, Pope, I’ll drop it off.’

You jump when your laptop wakes up with a shrill ringtone. Clicking the green button, your best friend’s voice comes through the speakers. 

‘Hon, the strip club just called. You left your phone there.’

With a groan, your palm meets your forehead in a smack. ‘Oh shit, it always happens when I drink! Should I go pick it up, or -’

‘Don’t worry, I gave them your address.’

‘Wait, what? You gave them my address?’

‘Relax, they’re strippers, not serial killers.’

You shift your feet nervously. ‘Do you know who’s coming?’

‘The one who danced for us today, you lucky bitch.’

Your heart almost leaps out of your mouth as you panic. ‘What the - but I’ve taken off all my make up and I’m not wearing a bra, and I got fucking chili on the stove -’

Your doorbell rings, and you whisper, ‘Shit, he’s here!’

‘Say hi to the hottie for me, babe! Night!’

Padding on bare feet towards the door, you take a deep breath, and reach for the knob.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, but not before they dart over your wet hair and pyjamas. You cross your arms self-consciously, knowing that he must have caught a glimpse of your nipples under your thin sleep shirt.

He smiles, handing you the phone. ‘Glad I caught you before you went to bed.’

Jesus H. Christ. It really is a blessing that you didn’t know what he sounded like when he had his clothes off - 

You barely manage to squeak, your cheeks heating up. ‘Thanks so much for bringing it by, it was so clumsy of me.’

He shrugs easily, his gray tshirt bunching with the movement. ‘Happens. You’ll be surprised what people leave behind.’

‘What?’ you prompt, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t strip and tell,’ he winks. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’

A handshake seems redundant after your close encounter earlier, so you give him your name and a smile. You admit, ‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’

He taps the beak of his cap. ‘It’s the hat.’

‘I like you better with clothes on,’ you blurt out impulsively, the alcohol still running thick through your veins.

He chuckles. ‘You might be the only one.’

He glances over your shoulder, breathing in the smell of simmering beef mince and tomatoes. ‘Are you cooking chili?’

You bite your lip. ‘Guilty. Case of midnight munchies.’

‘It smells delicious,’ he compliments you, lingering by the doorway and making no move to leave.

Emboldened, you ask, ‘Do you want some? I made way too much, as usaul.’

He grins, and it goes straight to your head. ‘I’d love to.’

[ruiniel]

Another Way - XI

Summary: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what’s more they can’t understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, References to Depression, First Meetings, character-meets-world, Near Death Experiences, References to loss, Grief/Mourning, Fantasy, POV Second Person, Language Barrier, Violence, Portal Fantasy, Isekai, Slow burn, References to canon, Rewriting show canon, Because why not, POV Alucard, POV original character, More tags to be added

Also on ao3

Part I

AN: The full part. Had to kick myself to finish this and repost, but here it is. No huge developments for now but the next update won't take as long.

XI.

You’re both silent exiting the car, walking to your building, stepping inside the elevator. Your mind’s running in circles, but there’s nothing you can think of saying to him now; and Adrian staring at his feet with an expression similar to the one you first saw during that damn storm isn’t helping much. 

Once he follows you inside the apartment, you throw the car keys onto the table, then clear your throat. It’s late. “So, anyway … I seem to keep saying this. Welcome back… again.”

He turns to you, silent, staring, his agitation having diminished somewhat during the car ride, and you’re still wondering what the heck you’re doing.

Possibly the worst time to go with a gut feeling your mind begins anew, but looking at this person, at the stiff and dignified way he holds himself despite the washed-up, bedraggled appearance… no, something is … there’s something different to him, and it’s not the unreal perfection to his features or the fact that he knows no language you can decipher.

Adrian looks briefly to the floor, then back at you, watching as you near him against your better sense, handing him the agenda. 

“Look, like I said …” you sigh. “I might’ve… acted…too rashly.” Then, remembering he doesn’t get it, you take out your phone and type it in, translate.

He discards his coat and then glances at the translation. His weary eyes stare into yours for a long while, and a knot forms in your throat, and you don’t even realize when he’s begun scribbling a swift reply.

“… why did you come seeking for me?” 

“Oh man, I’m too tired for this.” You look away, sigh again, shoulders slumping; but you can’t avoid it, not when the question persists in his eyes. 

Scratching your head, you tap onto the screen: “I don’t know.”

You’re gifted with an arch look of bemusement, then a shake of the head as he writes.

 “I do not want pity.”

Ugh. “Stubborn much? Of course you are…” you mutter, tapping furiously: “You’re not getting any. But what you are getting is some time off the streets to learn the language. Unless you insist on leaving, in which case…” you show him the door, a gesture anyone would understand, you think. “Okay?” you ask, annoyance fueled by exhaustion creeping up.

Adrian stares, then points at your phone; you decline to go on. “Okay?” you repeat, finger tapping against your previous words.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his other hand balling into a fist at his side; finally, he gives a slight nod.

“Good, now that’s settled… huh, I see you’ve lost your bag,” you point out. His rucksack is gone. 

Adrian looks regretful, and a crease forms between his brows, followed by a slight shudder.

“You know what, it’s late, we should probably turn in.” The use of “we” in some semblance of unity after having withdrawn from social life for so long surprises you.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” you show him the translation.

“Yes,” he says, in English. “Tomorrow.”

You trudge towards your room, too drained after the evening’s running around session to even marvel at the new word he’s used that you comprehend. “… just don’t kill me in my sleep,” you mumble, then point at the couch, hoping he’ll understand because you are not turning to explain. Best you can do is slouch over to the bedroom, shut the door, and face plant onto the bed with a groan.

Quiet… it was all so… quiet, before he showed up.

…and lonely, that voice inside keens, as your eyes close on the framed photograph of your family.

~~

You awaken, as often happens, in the middle of the night, a restless heartbeat in your chest and half-formed memories fading from your mind, leaving behind painful residue. Rubbing at your face, you stare at the silvery beam of light patterning your bed with a ghostly window frame, then rise and groggily make your way out of the room through the dark.

Carefully you tread as to not rouse your guest-become-flatmate, Mrs. Hawke’s eyerolls coming to mind when you’ll eventually have to reveal someone new is staying here. 

Once you’ve reached the balcony, the cold tiles beneath your soles serve as an awakening and you stare at the skies, a rising wind lashing at your face, imbued with filth and freshness alike. Sitting down on one of two cushions placed here for the occasional stargazing hopes from before, you notice you’d mechanically grabbed and are now holding the framed photograph of your parents.

“I wish you were here… you’d know what to do. But now,” you close your eyes, throat constricting in that familiar way as you cradle the photograph in your arms, forehead pressing to your risen knees. “I feel so… lost… I don’t know how to get out of this… how to… look at the things I’ve done lately…” the words come choked, rising like moths fraying in the stillness. It’s in these moments you always liked the city best, with its roar subsided, and slowly you raise your head, staring ahead. 

No direction, no aim. Will it always be this way? You’d gone to a specialist, you’d gotten medication allowing you to function through the worst of it, but…

“But…” your finger touches beloved faces, trapped in lifeless glass. 

The fluttering of a curtain in the corner of your eye has you gazing up, at the dark figure standing there and staring ahead, at the vastness of stone and sky, before looking down at you.

In the half-hidden moonlight… he does look… like a painting, you think, sleepily. 

“Can’t rest, huh?” you ask when Adrian turns to you, meeting not your eyes, but settling his attention on the object in your lap. “Can’t say I’m surprised, considering what you’ve been through,” you say as he slowly descends by your side. 

He’s gaping at the framed photo, appearing utterly rapt, a sliver of that familiar confusion on his face. 

“Oh, this?” you say, handing it to him. “That’s me, when I was a kid, and those are my parents. I mean, used to be my…” you can’t continue. Have you ever spoken to anyone about this before? You can’t remember. It was such a blur; people, condolences, friends you barely reach out to nowadays. People again, carrying on with their lives. The crippling inner-cold, the half-daze of the immediate after, the realization that nothing will ever be the same.

Why now, of all times? You shouldn’t be doing this before a stranger, let alone him, and …

You watch as Adrian runs his fingers over the image, appearing in awe and saying something. 

“Wh— it’s too late for the whole translation gig, so we’ll just have to make do…” you say, at which point he looks at you again. He frowns, and before you know it, a strip of cloth is pressed to your tear-stained cheek.

“No,” he says—again, in English.

Meeting his eyes, you see an understanding transcending words. Are his irises… aglow? No, a trick of moonlight. You catch the cloth just as his hand falls away. “Thanks…” But, oddly enough, that single tear, or something else, has caused a shudder within, a behemoth of anger and futility and despair that has more tears falling before you can stop them. You crumble in your place again, pressing the material to your face. “I’m… sorry, this is pitiful.” You look away, savagely rubbing at the evidence on your skin, then stare at your knees. “I’m going to get a grip, I just need a… a moment.”

It’s then you notice the piece of cloth is a torn strip of clothing, and when you gaze at Adrian again, staring at you, you notice the dirt clinging to those borrowed jeans, the torn sleeve of the one shirt you’d given him. Despite your state, you shake your head. “Got to get you some more clothes, looks like.”

He raises an eyebrow, stares back at the photo, then at you. Adrian looks at his own hands; no, rather, at the rings adorning one.

His eyes widen, long lashes fluttering rapidly, and he seems to suddenly be someplace else: like in the beginning, when nothing made sense. 

You take the photo from his lax grip, placing a slow hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

As startled out of a trance, Adrian meets your eyes, his loose hair shielding half his face.

A painting, and a masterful one.

You stare at the photo again. Might as well talk. You need to; even if it’s lost on him. “It was a car crash. On one night, one stormy night not unlike the one we ‘met’, I lost them both. Funny how life can change in an eye-blink, huh?” you press the cloth to your cheek, though the gesture itself has caused this overflowing tide, and you don’t know why.

Adrian sighs, glancing briefly at you before rising slowly, staring out into the world, expressionless and still. He says something in his own language, then looks down at you.

The regret on his face is new to you, revealing a wordless pain you’ll never forget; nor can you hold his stare for long, not now. Hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you rest your forehead against them with a sigh. “Go rest,” a mumble leaves your lips. “I’m fine, these states come and go… come and… go…”

It’s not until a persistent sun ray warms your cheek that you open your eyes again, rising to sit in your own bed, alone in your room, the framed photograph set by your side.

~~

“Disappeared? What do you mean, disappeared?” Arvan asks, throwing the report aside before leaning forward with his palms flat on his desk, staring at the two harried officers before him.

“S-sir, I know what I saw—Hikaru here can corroborate. Once he was there, and then… and then a flash of red, like neon lighting, and he was… he was gone.”

Arvan grits his teeth. Of all the outrageous excuses he’s received over the years, this one tops the pyramid. “Judging by this,” he holds up the report again, “a tall man in a long coat was assaulting some local lowlife. But the same grown man vanished in a blur of color when you intervened.”

“Yes sir,” the officer concludes, looking Trent in the eye with a conviction that might have been scary, had he not been in this business for so long. Maybe I’ve been working them all too hard. Shit. 

Hari leans back against a cabinet on the side, arms crossed, listening and pondering. “Grant, tell him about the bag.”

Arvan glances between the two as the officer who’d been speaking starts, recalling something. “Right,” he says, looking to his partner, officer Hikaru, now presenting an old, well-used rucksack. “The contents were really nothing but a shirt with a curious cut, freshly cleaned. Still, it had stains on it. Took it for testing.”

“Good,” says Arvan, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Sir,” officer Grant continues, “We know what we saw.”

“Right. Right. Did you track down the lowlife? The only witness? The one who got assaulted by this so-called ghost?”

“Not yet,” officer Hikaru grimaces. 

“Look,” Arvan sighs, “Why don’t the two of you take a leave of absence? Have some time off, relax. Everyone’s up their necks in work with this potential serial killer case, but you two seem to need it. Hari, you take over. Keep the case open for now.”

“Sir!” Both officers cry at the same time, but one look from Arvan and they mellow down, nodding in acceptance.

“If anything shows up, we’ll call on you.”

“But—”

“Dismissed.”

The two glance at each other, clearly unhappy about it, but Arvan’s not taking chances. He needs everyone on the force at their best now more than ever, not wilding about some mystical vision in an alley. 

Hari looks after them as the door to the office closes, then back at the commissioner.

“Did the results come in on that button of yours?” asks Arvan, taking a sip of his precinct coffee. Awful stuff. 

“They’re on your desk.”

“Talk to me.” The commissioner picks up a printed report. 

“It is rather strange. They did detect blood on the object.”

“That’s… expected. Good.”

“... but it couldn’t be matched to anything we have in the database.”

Arvan makes an exasperated sound.

“... however,” Hari hesitates, ponderously as he’s prone to do. “I had the find taken to forensics for radiocarbon dating.”

“And you did that because…”

“A suspicion,” the detective murmurs, running a hand through his dark curls.

“Ah. Great.” Damn Hari, but he’s gotta hear this one. Hari’s conjectures lead to cracks in a case, more often than not.

“Do you know how old that coat button is, commissioner?” Hari crosses his arms.

Arvan sighs. It feels like the only thing he’s been able to do lately. “Assuming you’re about to enlighten me, Hari.”

“The gold gilded object was dated from around… the 1400s.”

Arvan raises his eyebrows so high they disappear beneath his hairline. Hari smiles. “So then. An art thief, and a murderer?”

“... it would seem so, but I can’t figure out the link yet. The people we’ve called in for questioning so far haven’t heard or seen anything unusual to help, either. The only highlight was hearing the howling of a wolf during the time span the crimes were committed.”

“Hari, please get to the point. My coffee is out, and it’s 3AM.” 

“There are no wolves recorded in the area. Or shouldn’t be.”

Arvan looks Hari in the eye. “You and I both know that level of gore does not result from a wild animal attack.”

“Indeed.” Hari rubs at his chin. “We’ll carry on.”

Arvan rises and turns to stare out the window, cursing his luck. “I want to be there when you bring the rest in for questioning.”

“Yes, sir.”

~~

Come morning, padding your way into the kitchen, you see Adrian, already up, again scribbling at the kitchen table with a slight frown on his face. He looks as though he hasn’t slept at all, really, but then he always looks that way, ever since you’ve dragged him off that road.

“Hey.”

He raises his head, a small nod and a smile in acknowledgement. 

 “I… sorry about last night, um, thanks for…”

Adrian suddenly rises, apparently too preoccupied to notice your discomfort—good. Instead, he shows you something written in that stylish cursive of his.

Your tongue curls, your sleepy eyes narrowing at the words. “The Recuyell… of the Historyes of Troye…? What’s… this?” It sounds familiar, somewhere buried in years of study, forgotten papers and sleepless nights.

He points at your laptop. “To… learn.”

Again, English from him sounds like the strangest thing, but also… comforting, in a way.  

“... all right, I’ll search it up for you, just…” you yawn, “give me a minute to make myself some coffee.” You pause, showing him the container you’re opening. “Coffee?”

Confusion. How are you used to this by now? “... Okay, I’ll make one for you too. By the way, today you’re coming with me.”

Adrian raises an eyebrow at that, looking down as you near, reach and tug at his torn apparel. 

“Clothes, Adrian. You need something that doesn’t make you look like you’ve just gotten out of a bar fight.”

He seems less… lost… maybe it’s just me. You recall the other night, the way he stared at that photograph, the flicker in his gaze of something you’re acquainted with: a sense, a piece of knowledge just out of reach. Half-memories, dispersing in a fog; gone like the black spots in the corner of one’s eye.

“... clothes,” he mouths the word, frowning and rubbing the material between his fingers, a dawning of understanding when he looks at you again.

Half a smile twitches on your face as you turn, heading over to the counter. “This’ll be interesting.”

Taglist: @hornyf0ckers @the-keep-under-gresit @pencildrawer12

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MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

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[skakeeper]

Roll for Giggles Part 4

This is a slightly NSFW story that includes: Tickling, light bondage, and body worship. But no direct sexual acts. To read part 1 go here for part 5 go HERE. And as always if you like what you see, feel free to say so, like it, share it, leave a comment. Thanks for reading

They set the timer for the break at 3 minutes and hit go. Thy gave you about 30 seconds

free just to make sure you had your water and were drinking it. Just the thought of how much they care about you brings a smile to your face. You really lucked out with them as a ler, after hearing the horror stories on the web, you half thought they would be a serial killer when you first met. You already had the name in your head about what the news would call them "the Mirthful Murder" the person who tickles their victims to death. But they were nothing like the villan you pictured in your minds eye. They were soft, sweet, caring, and understanding. While there were times you felt like you were going to die do to their machinations, they always brought you back from the brink and made sure everything was perfectly ok.

You even tested them once during your early sessions when they were knuckle deep in your sensitive arm pits and said "red". And before you knew it, you were free, with a water in hand and them apologizing for not reading your body language. When you explained that it was a test to see how they would react they were both relieved and understanding as to why you posed the test. That reaction by them immediately and permanently banished all doubt from your mind about them. They were the real deal.

That's when you felt a poke on your shoulder "Hey, did I break you already?" Comes the voice of the person who was flooding your thoughts just a moment ago "huh... what? Oh... no, sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts" You admit with a sheepish grin. A wide toothy smile as your ler playfully shoves your shoulder "You be careful getting lost in there, I haven't had a chance to clear it out of all thoughts. It's dangerous in there." You can't help but laugh at that, they are such a goober at times and they always illicit smiles from you no matter what they do. You really appreciate that about them.

"So far, how are you liking the game?" They ask you, and you know they want honest feed back. "It's great. It's innovative, creative, and while there is a semblance of choice, it all boils down to what the dice say" you reply in an thoughtful tone. "So far, just after one roll of the dice, I am well and truly flustered by it. I can almost still feel those stupid bristles in my belly button, and you know how much I hate that" you tease with your voice dripping with sarcasm. You both giggle at that, maybe they aren't the only goober here, but meh, what the heck. When in Rome.

You don't notice the timer as the conversation rolls on like a hummingbird on crack, neither of you keep to a single topic for too long and then you hear the beeping of the alarm. "Well that's break" they say. You look confused for a second, where did the time go? They see your confusion "time flies when you're having fun, but now to get back to it" they remark as they hand you the dice. *Well, here we go again* you think to yourself as you get the D20 and roll it. When it comes to a stop your heart skips a beat and your ler's eyes light up. Staring up at you, as if it was mocking you from the felt lined bowl is the number you at the same time longed and dreaded to see, a 20. "OH ho ho, a nat 20" your ler exclaims in glee "man first a 17, now a 20? The dice either hate you or love me." You respond in a mocking tone "meh meh meh me meh me meh" and you stick your tongue out. "Now what shall I use for the next 20 minutes?" They ask as you roll the d12, with both of of you knowing no matter what comes up, you know you're going to be howling before the timer expires. So you give it a toss and it lands on a 12. “Awe come on!” You exclaim and with a sigh as you give the dice two more rolls, they come up with a 1 & 7 They playfully flex their fingers in your face "I always appreciate a good finger workout, and my mouth gets to play with your feet? Thanks for rolling those for me." You're response is just a mock grimace. "Now how hard should this little guys go about their giggly work?" You roll the d10 and a thought that this is rigged against you flashes through you mind as it lands on an 8. "Uh ohhhh someone is in trouble. But how deep trouble?" They ask as you roll the d8 and you roll a 3. A slight relief, better a normal chair than the dreaded *loved* tickle chair. "And what part of you am I going to be working on for the next 20 minutes?" This is the moment of truth, they put all your worst parts on the board, but there are some worse than others. You pick up the d6 and your heart drops like a feather in a vacuum. A 1, your feet, one of the if not the most ticklish parts of your body. "Woooooow" they remark "I was just joking about the dice hating you, but they really *really* do. So you are going to be chair tied, and my fingers and mouth are going to work your poor, sensitive feet for the next 20 minutes? At least you'll have a smile on your face." You can do nothing but stick out your tongue and that causes them to chuckle.

"Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner it's over for you" they say as they stand up and hold out their hand for you to take. You nod at that logic and take their hand and they bring you to a wooden arm chair that you have used in upper body tickles, but never with your feet being tickled. It has a padded back, and padded arms. You can see the scratch marks left on the ends by your nails. Its a sturdy chair, a comfortable one too. This has you interested though you would never openly admit it, not yet. "Please sit with your arms on the arms rest" and you obey laying your arms on the rests. They take cling film and encase your forearms, sealing them like glue to the arm rests. They then take the film and wrap your still exposed pink midsection to the back. "OK, you ready to lay down?" They ask. "Wait what?" Your mind starts running to what they mean "w-why lay down?" You stammer out. They look at you and matter-a-factly say "to get at your feet silly. How can I get to them like this?" The question makes you see the logic if it all. "Uh... ok, but... won't it hurt?" You ask more of curiosity than actual fear. "It shouldn't, but you know if it does, all you have to do is say so and I'll stop." That was so reassuring, and with your curiosity sated for the time, you nod to be laid down. They move behind you and gently, almost reverently, they tip your chair back and guide you to the ground. Your head kisses the ground, your roll it around as if you are already laughing and notice a problem "Can I have a pillow please?" With out a word they go to the spare bedroom and get you your pillow that you left here for when you spend the night after getting wrecked. They place it under your head and you give it the same treatment as you did before. If this pillow could talk, the stories it would tell would fluster you to death. "OK friend, legs on the legs of the chair please." They ask and you obey. They fix your legs so they are straight on the legs of the chair and wrap them with the film. Well wrap would be putting it lightly. They dang near encase your legs from your calf to your knees in that clear, selfsticking substance. "Ok, try to get out" they ask and you give it the ol' college try. But try as you might, there was no give to be had, no slack to be found. To put it another way, you were going no where, and you love it!

So there you are, your are on a well padded chair, arms legs and body sealed to with with near clear wrap, your head on a pillow with your eyes staring up to the ceiling. Your feet, which are for the moment still encased in the protective layer of your shoes and semi-protective layer of your socks, are just handing from the end of the chair. Before your ler begins, they triple check that everything feels safe and comfortable. When you confirm that you do indeed feel safe, they show you the timer set for 20 minutes and hit start.

They put their phone down and you lose sight of them. But you feel them picking at the knots on your shoes, you don't tie them tight when you come to a session because you know that will only delay the inevitable. With in a few second they reverently take off your shoes. You know they love your socks, and so you chose their favorite pair. As your socked feet are free from what your ler calls “Shoe prison” you tease them by wiggling your toes and remark with a grin “It feels good to be out of those shoes.” As is tradition, and one you have come to look forward to because of how it makes you feel and how they look forward to it, your ler gives a soft kiss to each of your socked toes. This causes you to giggle, you have never had someone so interested in your socked feet before them and it feels good. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, lets get to it” They say as you catch a glance at the clock, 18:57 Ha you think to yourself they already wasted a minute on this, maybe if I am oh so cute with my socks, they'll forget everything about tickling me. You smile at the thought and wiggle your feet, but you know that your ler is only going to take that as an invite to really get into it. Its a tactic you have tried before and they ALMOST fell for it, but one giggle from your lips snapped back to reality and you paid for it with tears and laughter. They start slowly, just tracing the outline of your socked feet with their fingers, just teasing the covered nerves on your feet. That sends warning signals to your brain, but you try to fight through it. Just focus on your breathing, make them work for it you think to your self. Your wrapped chest starts to heave a little harder as they slowly walk their fingers up from your heels and every so often they “slip” and they slide along the soles. They haven't really started yet and already you have a massive grin plastered on your face. You look over and see only twenty seconds have slipped off the clock oh boy you think, and thats the last thought you have as without warning all ten of their fingers dig into your soft, sensitive. socked soles and your mind goes white. “AHAHAHA” You burst out laughing. You thrash against the plastic that is binding you to this chair of doom, but its no use, there is no give. Your head rolls around on the pillow as the your unfettered laughter fills the room, and echos back mockingly to your ears. “Ah, I am so happy you rolled like this, I was hoping to have some quality alone time with your feet.” Your ler teases as they use one hand to hold the left foot, but sadistically scrub the right one, your brain not knowing what to make of it all and all you can do is lay there with laughter pouring out of you. “You know, you always wear such the best socks, I need to taste them a bit” they say. “W-W-WAIHAHAHAHAIT NO-NOHOHOHOT YEHEHET” You exclaim and you know when their mouth gets added to the party, thats its for you. “Hey, you rolled them, not me” they say as the feeling you knew was coming finally arrived. The feeling of their teeth just nibbling the sock clad balls of your feet, and the only thing you can do at that point is screw your eyes shut and laugh your head off.

What feels like an eternity later, you get the slightest of reprieves as they pause for a second to let you catch your breath as they take your socks off. In this moment you catch a glance at the clock 13:23. How has only 5 minute passed. Guh, I hate tickle time you think to yourself as tears of laughter and joy trickle down the sides of your head. After a few seconds, your socks are off and your soft feet are exposed to the world.

“Well that was a fun warm up” they remark and all you can do is try to catch your breath as soft giggles pass your lips from the still tingling soles. “Hold on a second, I have an idea” they say as they walk around to you and take their phone and pause the clock. “I know you absolutely love to have the space between your toes tickled, but they are just so dang squrimy sooooo, im gonna tie them back.” With that, they get two zip ties and loosely zip them around your ankles, not that you needed more securing in that department. Then comes the string, and one by one your toes are tied back and separated from each other to the zip ties. As your ler asks you, you give them a wiggle and shake, they aren't budging and there is no pain or discomfort. You do feel how tight the skin is on the soles of your feet, but that was to be expected, as you brought it up before and they explained to you the fact that your skin is just stretched a bit. After, again, checking to make sure you are safe they start the clock. This is going to be a long 13 minutes you think to yourself. That is when you feel the warm wet feeling of their tongue sliding between your toes. You yelp and jump at the unexpected feeling of saliva so soon, and you start to giggle and moan. This tickles, but is also feels wierdly good. Its hard to explain the sensation that is going on in your brain. While your mind is focused on the feeling of their tongue between your toes, they start have their fingers do a devilish dance on your tight soles. If you weren't tied up so well, your reflexes would have sent your foot straight up to their jaw. You let out a cackle of laughter as their fingers find all of your spots. Its like they have a map, which of course you know they do. Their dexterous digits dig into your soles as their tongue plays ever so lightly with your toes and you have no thought, no recourse, all you can do is laugh. You try to fight, you try to close the gaps between your toes, but its pointless. Your feet and toes are stuck fast against the onslaught of tantalizing tickles. Just as you are kind of getting used to this, they change tact. All ten of their fingers attack your left foot, one hand focusing on your sole, the other bobbing in and out of your toe gaps. Their mouth on the other hand is gently munching up a storm on your right foot. Their teeth gently scraping from the balls of your feet, through your soles and to your heels and back up again. You don't know what is worse for you, for this is a new tactic they have unleashed, and that sends you from your normal laughter, straight to full on uncontrollable howling hysterics. You pull with all your might inadvertently trying to break free, you pull so hard on the arms, you feel like they may break. But there is no give to be had in the construction of this chair. What was once a trickle has now become a torrent of tears streaming from your eyes, soaking the pillow case under your head. “Boy your feet sure are ticklish, I can't believe that I haven't tried this yet. Ten out of ten I have to say” says the person who is putting you through this torment with childish glee seeping from their voice.

Just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, it does. Their fingers go from attacking one foot to attacking your toe gaps, each finger nail scraping like there is gold buried in-between your toes, and their mouth jumps back and forth between your feet. You never know where they are going to strike next, it is a hopeless situation that leaves you making a cacophony of cackles that your ler says are “Music to my ears”. Thats when the music to your ears sound. The alarm. Its been 20 minutes of pure ticklish torture. As the alarm sounds, your ler stops what they were doing and starts to gently free you. Taking the strings off your toes, and cutting the zip ties. As they go about their work to give you your freedom, you try to catch your breath. Your mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour, still waiting for the next ticking sensation to come from them, you strain to catch your breath as you are brought upright and they go about freeing the rest of your body “Well then, that was fun wasn't it?” You don't even have the energy to respond, faint giggles still passing your lips, your ears still ringing with the sound of your own laughter and their barbed teases, so you just nod. “After a time like that, I am giving you a 10 minute break, don't want to wear you out too fast now do we?” They ask as the final binding is cut loose and you look at them with your brain slowly coming back to you and a glint of determination and playful defiance in your eyes “As if you could.” With a chortle they help you up, your feet are still so sensitive after being worked on so much, and they guide you back to the couch. Water in hand you drink and wonder what next devilish delights do the dice hold for you.

[kilikrungpotmeister]

3 Years Too Late

Ao3: link

<Prev Chapter 13 Next>

The witch and her partner would enter the living room. They had set up a large standing mirror in front of the couches with Kilik tied up on the couch. Harver had started to call the current Lord of Death.

“If you want to knock on Death's door.” Harver said before writing the numbers 42-42-564 on the mirror. As soon as he did, ripples of light bounced around the surface of the glass.

It didn’t take long for someone else’s visage to go on it. A short energetic girl in a red crop top and stetson hat. “Heyo! Lord Kidd is busy at the m…Harver what’s up?” She started pausing when she realized who made the call.

“We had an unexpected visitor who said Kidd can help explain something.” Harver said plainly, stepping aside to show Kilik on the couch with the other three Spartio members.

“Ah…um…” Patty thought for a bit before sighing, “Um…Kidd you have to see this…”

“Ugh what is it now I’m still working on what to do about K-“ Kid said finally stepping into view with an already strained expression on his face that only got worse upon seeing the supposedly dead meister and his former teammates sitting off to the side of him.

“Hey…Kidd…we have a situation…”Kilik said apologetically all he could do in that state was bow his head.

The shinigami sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Kilik, what did I tell you before leaving my office?”

“Not to make contact with Spartio and my kids.” Kilik responded.

“So what in my Father’s name are you doing in their house?!” Kidd shouted.

“Sorry to cut the scolding session Kidd but would you please explain what’s going on?” Ox finally spoke out, his tone sharp and laced with irritation, “I take it from your conversation you know about this…person. So who is he? Last we checked, Kilik Rung has been dead for three years.”

Kidd paused at the interruption. He couldn’t blame them for being mad at all this. He let out a sigh before starting to address the four. “I had wanted to have things sorted out a little frist before I broke the news to the rest of Spartio,” Kidd muttered under his voice, “ but yes, this man before you is the Meister Kilik Rung. Though he had been pronounced dead three years ago, Killed in action when a rogue witch supposedly disintegrated an entire town. It appears our report was incorrect.”

“You can’t really expect us to just believe this right?” Harver chimed in, “after three years he’s just back?”

“I’m not expecting you to believe me, to be honest I barely believe it myself,” Kidd responded with his tone as serious yet soft, “it’s partly why I ordered him to not make any contact with spartio. We checked his biometrics, DNA and we even had the witches council screen him for any foul play. Everything came up clean. So as far as we can tell, this is the genuine Kilik Rung. As for how…well that’s a long story that we’re still verifying.”

The room fell silent for a moment as they let what Kidd just said sink in.

“How long?” Kim asked

“I’m sorry?” Kidd responded.

“How long have you known he was alive?” Kim asked with a tinge of anger in her voice.

“Honestly, not very,” Kidd responded, “we were contacted by the witch’s council three days ago. They had found a man with a DWMA ID surrounded by several witches' souls. He only just arrived in Death City this morning.”

“I don't expect you all to accept me with open arms,” Kilik finally spoke up, “Kidd has updated me on what’s happened while I was gone. You have every right to be suspicious and distrustful of me. Heck I wouldn’t blame you if you’ve grown to hate me like Fire and Thunder does.”

“They don’t…” Jackie tried to interject but stopped herself.

The room fell silent once more. What is anyone to say in this situation?

“If that’s all, would you mind untying Kilik and letting him leave before Fire and Thunder see him,” Kidd said, “I’d rather them not have a melt down.”

“Right,” Harver said flatly, transforming his hand so he could cut Kilik’s bindings.

“Kilik you may leave. Please try to limit contact with Spartio form now on.” Kidd ordered, “and if that’s all I’ll be taking my leave too.”

“As you wish,” Kilik nodded before being escorted out by Harver as Kidd ended his transmission.

“Kilik wait,” Kim said quickly getting up and going over to him, “you carried Fire all the way home yes? He must’ve been draining a lot of your body heat so here.” She gently placed a glowing hand on his chest and healed him. However when she did so she relaxed something that made her freeze and look up at him.

“Thank you,” he said softly, taking a quick step away from her, having noticed her change in expression.

Jackie quickly went over to her partner to ensure she was okay. Ass soon as she did, Kim whispered something to the lamp, making her look at Kilik with worry.

“Take care of yourself Kilik.” Kim said softly with a worried tone in her voice, “you still need to apologize to your kids.”

Kilik just nodded as he was led away.

Just as Harver closed the door, the sound of another one creaked open from behind the Spartio members.

“That Kilik wasn’t it?” A young female voice said in a cold tone a slight buzzing.

[steamedtangerine]

God Talk VS. God Crock

Since the assassination attempt, there will be nuts out there trying to spin it as being about "divine intervention".

I just came back from eating with a family member and overheard some carry-out folks talking about it being "the hand of God" that saved Trump, and one person added "well, he has been going to churches, so he must be praying more".

Ugh. First off, where I live-yes, Trump did recently go to an "all-black church" in Detroit, but not surprisingly, the pictures coming back from that event showed a mostly white crowd. This is a rich man (not a poor Lazaraus) with no sense of humility who lies and falsely accuses folks with no sense of empathy-the kind who knocks over demonstrators just to do a vain photo-op holding a Bible upside down.

Second, as someone who has read the Bible cover to cover twice (same with the Book of the Subgenius and Bradbury's Martian Chronicles-but that's a different matter) and lived with theologian students, I feel like I should chime in (cue DaFoe in Spiderman "Scientist" meme) on this with what little I can offer. Sure, it will involve religious talk with Biblical citation, but even the secular minded will benefit by arming themselves with at least some knowledge to refute the self-righteous hypocrites who twist things horribly wrong. To fail to embrace even a few grains of truth is to put oneself in line with the same Biblical illiteracy the Evangelicals chose to adopt.

Some of the hottest, worst takes ever to surface after a current event seem to come from Evangelicals. Pat Robertson was infamous for spewing the most misguided statements about Hurricane Katrina, disasters in Haiti, AIDS, disasters in Dover, PA, or mishaps befalling Ariel Sharon....to name a few. He did this with the grandiose presumption that he was more privy to understanding God's unfathomable ways more than anyone else.....so much for embracing the necessary virtue of humility.

....however, the Bible asserts many times over that we all each take our chances just as anyone else has to in this life. I mean, count your blessings and know where they come from, but never presume you are immune to affliction or persecution just because you attend more functions, buy more religious goods, or pray the most words. You got 40+ chapters in the book of Job, and they are not all dedicated to this constricted populist narrative of "Job suffered, was tested, and persevered", otherwise it would be one heck of a short book. No, what South Park and tons of Sunday School sessions fail to mention is that the Book of Job is this Rabbinical back-and-forth about why "bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people." The answer in the end is God communicating to Job "my ways are my ways, and they are not for anybody to understand".

It doesn't stop there, in the Gospels, Jesus says "it rains on the just and unjust alike". He also mentions that buildings will fall on the faithful (quit the drooling, Dr. Lecter), the just will be persecuted by the unjust, and that children will be born blind not due to any evil their parents did or that they were somehow born "maligned in spirit".

St. Paul later insists (in the 6th chapter of his first letter to Timothy) to avoid anyone saying "gain is close to Godliness" (not to mention warnings of those who use their faith as a cloak for covetousness)-this could not be a bigger condemnation to the Mega-church self-glory-seekers and those pushing a "health & wealth" prosperity-based ideology. Compound all this with all the condemnations of the rich and those lacking in humility or all the passages insisting God shows no partiality, and one walks away with a far, far different picture than the superficial world that Evangelicals dwell in.

Third, from a historical sense, who have been the bad guys who cheated death and the righteous who weren't so lucky? Hitler avoided many assassination attempts and presumed "God was on his side". Meanwhile, all the martyrs throughout history (ones who had legit causes) have suffered-not only does the Bible not sugar-coat things by informing the studious that this can sometimes be an unavoidable fact, but some of the more old school faiths-especially the Catholics-want everyone to be reminded clearly in this matter. So, what is to be said of the MLKs, the Medgar Evers, the Jean Donavans, or the Archbishop Romeros? Were they-for all their obvious righteousness, not as blessed as Golden Boy Donald J. Trump?

I hope noone here encounters the near-idolatrous "Trump was favored by God" crowd, but at the very least, if one actually reads the very book they claim to extol (by starting at the center-ie. the Gospel), one quickly finds out how little the Evangelicals know about what they're talking about.

Thus, ends the sermon.

[gabrielmtc]

Baguio : The "Coolest" Place in the Philippines.

                Baguio, elevating 1,500m above sea level, at an elevation this high, you will definitely feel the breeze gliding on your skin making your shiver.

 Many of us has been to Baguio for at least one point in our lives, and for me, I mean, my 10-year-old me, it was my first time.

                After knowing that we will go to Baguio for summer, I was excited, because all of the things I have hear about this place was, “sobrang lamig dito, parang ayoko na umuwi”. So the little me cant wait to find out what’s really there, if its really “malamig” or its just a placebo effect that if you are in baguio you’re the one of the coolest person in the country, literally.

                So, the time has come and it’s the day that we go the city, I woke up at 2 am, bags already packed, heck I even slept with my clothes that I will wear for tomorrow beside my bed. I was really excited, to come and see the beautiful views of mines view, the elegant, and the classy “The Mansion”, and of course the popular night market at the Harrison Road just shy of Session Road. It is a place where both kids and adults will be happy whatever the city offer. The rental bikes you can rent with your family and friends, the swans on the pond, and the horses that you can ride. For me, the moment I stepped out of the bus it was the horses that greeted me a welcome to their beloved city, I was so happy, probably because that  was my first time seeing an actual horse in flesh. Happy and excited, the little me was running out of joy at the park yelling, but of course only in my mind “sa Wakas naka rating na din ako sa baguio”. After an hour of exploring and appreciating the beauty of the city we finally went to our transient and that’s when it all sunk in, “damn, Ill literally be in this city for a week, that’s so cool”. Little me was so excited thinking what are the many things that my family and I will do for tomorrow, lying down on my bed, thinking, just thinking, until my eyes unconsciously closed, and I fell asleep.                 The next time I opened my eyes, its morning my family and relatives were already packing and getting ready for the first day of our tour, after I saw them, I quickly stood up and took a bath, even though it’s so cold as a Pinoy-cultured kid, I. have. To. Take. A. Bath       

                Our first stop, Minesview Park, this place is unreal, the views on the Observation deck is breath-taking, while looking at the superb view I ate a delicacy called “sundot kulangot” in Tagalog, it literally means picking a booger from the inside of your nose. Ew, but as much as it sounds disgusting the taste of this food was so sweet and yummy, I really enjoyed eating the sweet candy while looking at the sweetest view in the whole city.

                I won’t be telling the whole tour in detail because it would take days for me to express it, like, 1 day for a day in Baguio? That would be insane!

                There I also a day where we visited The Mansion, and since its only a walking-distance from our transient, you guessed it, we walked, inside the vicinity, a lot of people walking, some are towards the mansion, and some away, and in the middle of them, is a body of water and is probably a man-made river this sets a cool ambiance to the place that helps The Mansion be more elegant and dreamy.

                Last day was different, I mean commonly last day is the day where you so called “sulit” your time because those are the very last minutes of your tour, but us, we just stayed in our transient, rested, but for me, it was sort of experiencing to actually live in baguio, because of course the locals don’t tour everyday so this final day for us was like, how does it feel to be a baguio local-resident? Is it more relaxing than living in the suburbs of manila? So, in our last day we lived like locals and stayed in our house, watching tv, chilling near the chimney, and me, as a “videogame-addict” I went outside with my dad and looked for a computer shop nearby. And we found one, so I rented 1 hour to play, and this was one of the times that I said to myself “gusto ko tumira dito”. To experience living in a place much more cooler than manila is different, like everything is different. The air is so much fresher and cooler. But sadly, we had to leave the city and go back to reality.

                For me, that tour was very fun and memorable, I mean its my first time right? First for me is always the most memorable. And although I love Baguio so much, I just cant forget the place where I lived and grew up, yes other places might be cooler, and more beautiful, the place where we  grew up always has a special  place in our hearts, and that’s the reason it’s called “HOME” there’s nothing like it, as much as Baguio is relaxing, the feeling of resting in your own home  is unbeatable, that’s when you feel that you are really resting.

                I won’t forget Baguio, it still probably one of my favourite places that I visited. But as much as I love home, I can’t wait to go back, and I will go back to… Baguio: The “Coolest Place in the Philippines.

[kieuecaprie]

KieueCaprie's Games Finished List of 2023: Entry 7

#11: Pokémon Infinite Fusion

What's done? Kanto

What platform? PC

Started when? 20/3/23

Finished when? 22/3/23

Clear 2

What's done? Kanto, again, but randomized

Started when? 22/3/23

Finished when? 23/3/23

So, this fangame I picked up playing after seeing a couple of people playing through it and man, it's quite nice playing through Kanto yet again but this time it's with weird strange freaks you make with the fusions in a fangame.

Classic Mode was actually a little harder than Randomized but it may be because I was playing on the dumbest setting possible with Randomized, so it ended up with me seeing a million legendaries and getting to the point where I just wasn't really pleased to see a legendary or mythical anymore.

It was still fun, mind you, it was just really funny having a second playthrough be seeing previously rare Pokémon become exceedingly common.

#12: Sludge Life

What's done? All endings

What platform? PC, Steam

Started when? 26/3/23

Finished when? 27/3/23

This game was on my radar for a good while but I kind of forgot about it as though I had suffered a weird fever dream about cigarettes, cats with two buttholes (no, seriously), and graffiti. It did come back onto said radar later on when it released on Steam but was drowned out by the noise of other games at the time (I honestly forgot what was there at the time.)

Then it became free. So, I guess I took the opportunity to do so before the period of when it was free came to an end and it was an enjoyable walking sim of sorts, I like these kind of weird games where you do stuff and just generally explore an area without much lore to go off on.

Maybe now that the sequel is out, I'll probably grab it once my radar empties, sadly, I got Pikmin 4 and AC6 on the horizon so that may be a while...

#13: They Hunger

What's done? Full campaign

What platform? PC, Steam, Sven Co-Op

Multiplayer? Yes, with armoreddragon99 and Kaelynthegoat (I dunno if there was a fourth? Could be, please correct me.)

Finished when? 29/3/23

So, I think I remember trying to play They Hunger solo several times back in the day but I could never complete it because I was not very skilled or knowledgable about operating my own private listen server back then.

Either that or I lacked the motivation to play through it.

However, with Kaelyn and Armored in tow, we completed the campaign for They Hunger over two sessions, although we eventually had to use a walkthrough to figure out where to go next because there were times when conveyance was pretty bad.

It was very quaint and enjoyable for what it is, certainly not something to write home about in this day and age but the fact that this existed in the first place waaay back then, I can truly appreciate that.

#14: Dungeon Defenders

What's done? Base Campaign, Hardcore Hard mode

What platform? PC, Steam

Finished when? 5/4/23

Multiplayer? Yes, with Armoreddragon99

Now, I should iterate that this is the ORIGINAL version, not the remake, not the other branch, the ORIGINAL, with all of its flaws and issues on full display.

It's kinda fun and enjoyable still, feels loads better than its successor, Dungeon Defenders 2, which kind of... I dunno, there's something that's felt off about it.

No screenshots, again.

#15: Toontown Corporate Clash

What's done? The main taskline as of V1.3

Finished when? 6/5/23

Toontown Online is one of those games that kind of sit in my subconscious and only surfaces from time to time, much like stuff like Maplestory, Neopets, Kartrider (RIP OG), and maybe a few others I neglected to mention.

Now, Rewritten was the first private server I've played after TTO's servers had shut down and while I liked it for what it was, which was a nearly-pure vanilla gameplay, I felt like I had been spoiled by other more modern MMOs and it was a little rough trying to get into a groove with it. Couple that with my social anxiety and, well, I've never made much progress into Rewritten. Heck, I've yet to leave TTC there and the furthest I've gotten recently is my bear toon named Flint who is halfway through his Sound track training!

Enter: Corporate Clash. I've seen this private server variant float around for a while and thought the concept felt interesting but never really got into it until The First (Second? Third? I lost count...) Twitter Exodus and I came onto Tumblr.

You see that toon in the second screenshot, Loopy Lancelot? Yeah, that's a toon belonging to photondoesstuff, who I follow here on Tumblr, whose reblogs and likes kept putting TTCC content on my dashboard, most notably these stranger looking cogs that were classified as managers.

Combine that with the drive to see Sads the Skelecog (who is now gone from canon forever so I'll never see him now 😔), and I created my first proper toon on there, a non-binary deer who now joins the ranks of my OCs because god knows I need more of them. I'm still debating on whether I should change their name or not but this isn't the post for it.

I really loved how much they changed the game, they took the entire Toontown game, stripped it down to its components and basically said "How far can we push this game to its limits?" and they've largely succeeded.

The main taskline was an easy and clear goal, the manager fights were fun and not Sound Meta Sound Meta Sound Meta (Still have that in Cog Facilities and HQ Cog Waves (Up until Bossbot, at least)), there were more cosmetics to play around with, there's stickers, choosing your gag tracks was great and having them all levelled and KEEPING their experience if you respec was amazing, and there's still more to this if their teasers about 2.0 content is to be believed.

Sure, you get the Ship of Theseus problem with Corporate Clash where you ask if this is still Toontown even when it has been majorly reworked but I still think it has some Toontown Online DNA still in there, for better or worse, and I'm okay with that.

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