#which does have me now thinking about magic. magical temperature play....

[jackals-horny-jail]

actually i think solas is also Big on non physical restraints ie being told to keep his hands still but also in the magic bondage variety,

[mothhue]

ello! If it's ok i have a few questions to ask about ahuw if that's ok?

1: I'm curious how Vanessa's ice works considering this au is underwater, does she still have ice magic or has it been replaced with something else?

And 2: how does the tale of queen Vanessa play out? I know some AU's slightly change the events and with the possibility of ice being out of the equation how did Vanessa destroy the village?

I'm sorry if these questions seem odd I was hoping to make some fanart and I've had these questions in my head for awhile once again i hope I'm not annoying you with them and I wish you a nice day!

-your local socially anxious Subcon nerd

Hello! yes it's absolutely ok to ask me anything! (asks are always a delight to get, it makes me very happy to see people interested in my stuff!) And they're not odd or annoying at all, I get to ramble about Subcon now hehehe here we go

1: Well Vanessa's powers are the same as in she can freeze things and create ice. However it's a bit less intense as it's harder to completely freeze the entire body of water around you. It has much less effect than the base game, mostly just covering the surface of any structure she's touching/standing on with ice, and when the 'everyone dying' thing happens the only thing that actually gets covered in ice directly is the manor and the area around it.

2: Now you might be thinking if only the manor froze, how did everyone die? So first we're gonna have a brief fun science time :D

so here's the fun thing about freezing seawater: then it freezes, it releases salt particles to the water around it, which creates this extra salty, dense and absolutely freezing saline water. And when it interacts with nonfrozen, regular seawater it creates... you guessed it, more ice! (I'm not an expert on this stuff or anything though so take it with a grain of.....ʰᵉʰᵉʰᵉ salt) So what basically happened is that 1) the manor froze, 2) which made the entire area around it freezing saline water, 3) which met with the rest of subcon and dropped the temperature of it significantly along with creating a whole lot of ice everywhere. Which... probably wasn't the best thing for anyone living in it. I mean, imagine you're living your best life and all of a sudden the temperature just. DROPS. yeah I don't think your body is gonna react to that well (at the very least send you into cold shock), and I imagine it would be way worse for cold- blooded fishfolk.

other than that are changes not that important to the story (the prince's chains are different, stuff like that), aand that's about it! ty for asking and wishing me a nice day :D have a great one as well

[sun-stricken]

Headcannons about sick!gray? Mine is that ice mages get sick really easily but he’s just great at hiding it until Lyon mentions it or something and suddenly the guild freaks out at a sniffle

Also don’t know if it’s any interest to you, but sometimes when I’m making fiction in my head I imagine gray is actually sick. Like when he does wear clothes they’re always tight around the middle, right? So what if being under all the rubble did something to his lungs/chest and so he needs the support sometimes

edit from like two hours after i responded, you asked me for my personal headcanons, but all i did was play on yours, so sorry 🙁

omg tysm for the ask, i love this

i agree that ice mages get sick easier than other mages, but also any mage whos magic effects their temperature fluctuation, (i might make a full post abt that later)

also i am dramatic and love to ramble, sorry if its too long!!

Gray is good at handling things himself, hes been taking care of himself for over a decade, itd be weird if he wasn’t

He takes care of others, looks after his guild-mates, maybe to pay off some sort of debt, or maybe because they dont take care of themselves (what a hypocrite)

he takes care of them, he doesn’t expect them to take on roles for him, didn’t expect them to take care of him; he did perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much

-Fairy Tail disagrees-

The moment Lyon started telling them horror stories about how often and how intense Gray got sick while learning magic, all hell broke loose, specifically, his team broke loose

Erza started grilling Lyon, how did he get sick, how often on average, why is it so easy, how did they help him as a kid, what do you mean he couldnt breathe? HISBODYCOULDNTWHAT???

(it felt all too familiar to a criminal interrogation)

Lucy fretted over Gray, eyes panicking trying to search for an illness that wasnt yet there, asking if he felt ill now, does he need water? should he sit down? why is he so red?

(why does she look so scared?)

Happy all but launched himself into Grays chest, crying about why he didnt tell them and other nonsensicals he could fully make out

Wendy popping in to say that while she cant heal illnesses she can help him any way she can, and maybe she cried just a little abt how she couldn’t help him fully

(a kid shouldnt be so stressed about not being able to help fix a problem that they didn’t make)

Natsu, now Natsu was pissed. Hes no stranger to being reckless and he knows it, but this wasn’t him, this was Gray; Gray who had always helped him through sicknesses and injuries, some of which the guild didnt even know of. why didnt he trust them to help him? why didnt he ever tell them anything? why didnt he figure it out?

it hurt. it really did.

(why isnt he trying to fight him? why isnt he yelling?

Gray stood there, red in the face and truly embarrassed, he didnt think it was that big of a deal and here they were, here was his guild, his family. vowing to take care of him from here on out.

He doesnt think hes ever felt so embarrassed, and guilty, and so loved all at once

also a foreboding, hes not sure why though

as it turns out, he was right to be cautious

days later he had a cold, a measly cold, he sniffled maybe once or twice, and he might’ve stumbled just a little, and all of a suddenly he was next to the guild fireplace, covered in too many blankets, a thermos in hand, and people constantly insisting on getting him things

he knew he shouldn’t have come today

although, they had every right to be worried, as it very quickly turned into pneumonia. lucky him

He was taken to the guild infirmary, his team right there with him

even through the chills, the too short and too fast breathing, the obnoxious heat in his whole body, and the ever so slight delirium creeping into his thoughts

he felt the hand atop his, felt the heavy weight of sharp eyes that miss nothing on him;

he felt the purring mini oven tucked into his side;

he felt a hand usually covered in armor carding through his hair, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth;

he felt the way a trembling hand gripped his no longer free hand, felt the telltale sign of whisperers against his fingers;

he felt the minuscule vibrations of scrambling around him, heard the clinking of glass bottles no doubt full of remedies

…

he felt, loved.

THID IS SO LONG IM SORRY BUT IM SO OVERDRAMATIC AND LOVE TO RAMBLE

NOW FOR THE SECOND PART THAT I LOVE SO MUCH!

being under that collapsed building fucking with his lungs and ribs isnt something i ever thought of!

thats genius, i love it

im just imagining permanent damage to his lungs, not being able to use them to their full capacity, and maybe chronic pain in his ribcage area and sharp pains when he tries to draw in deep breaths

i think Makarov obvs knew this (maybe he makes everyone has full check ups yearly or every couple years, but also everytime someone joins the guild)

he warned Gray against overexerting himself because it could be especially dangerous for him

he was prescribed an inhaler and medication for his breathing and pain

but this was and is a boy full of too much pride and guilt, maybe he thinks he deserves it, maybe just doesnt care what happens to him, maybe he simply doesnt know his limits; but for whatever reason he doesnt listen, doesnt use his support unless it is absolutely unbearable

of course it gets better over the years, but that didnt start willingly, the guild found out, maybe Gray let it slip, maybe Jii-Chan did, or maybe they heard him scolding Gray for overdoing it again

but they found out and would check up on him, give him advice from some of their experience with their own disabilities

Ive hced for a while that Gildarts was particularly fatherly (or like, a protective uncle…ly?) with the kids of Fairy Tail, so i think he wouldve been the one to get him this pressure support thing for his ribs

it worked, and so does heating pads/packs, which lead to the next development

and after Gray joined up with his team and got closer, he would make Natsu be his own personal heat pack bc that is such a sweet and silly image to me

Natsu surprisingly complained minimally

i wonder why? :)

more little sick things

Gray doesnt get hungover, probably the only illness he gets lucky on

he gets really talkative and delirious when hes sick, and clingy

he’ll ramble abt random things he has to do, not realizing he cant for obvious reasons

he’ll talk about life before Ur, about his siblings who never had the chance to live; about ppl who left Isvan before Deloria came, wondering if theyre alive and actually living, if they remember him

whoever’s with him does him the courtesy of not bringing it up when hes better

Lucy gets really scared when people are sick, it makes her think of watching her mom deteriorate, she refuses to go through that again

She spoke to Natsu and Erza about this while Gray was sick once, broke down and said she wad terrified of losing someone she loves to a stupid sickness again

Gray will cling to the person closest to him when he’s ill, holding their hand, leaning on them, just not letting them leave; he finally is letting himself be taken care of and it feels good, he’ll be damned if he lets that go again

Natsu was so angry when Lyon told them, he was so angry and so scared that even with his heightened senses he didnt know anything at all

If hes with Gray when hes sick, he rarely takes his eyes off the uneven rise and fall of his best friends chest, as to reassure himself that Gray was still breathing, that he was still here and didn’t disappear

Gray will get up and try to get things done when hes sick, he is not the type to sit down and rest and recover

he had to be physically hauled back to bed on multiple occasions

Erza is lost when people are sick, ever the leader though, she tried to take the lead, giving people jobs and trying to make sure everything is order

it ends up quite the opposite though, halfway through she reluctantly hands the reins to someone else

she tries though

Gray has a box full of ‘get well soon!’ gifts and cards, he likes to look through then and read all the messages over and over again

i lied. he has three boxes, his friends are overachievers

fin.

[honourablejester]

Numenera Oddities

So. Numenera does the thing I love from D&D 5e, and that is trinket tables. Or, in this case, oddity tables.

Oddities are ancient salvaged techno-magical items that aren’t necessarily directly useful, like the more powerful one-shot cyphers or reusable artefacts, but are more there for the flavour of the world. Characters often start with them, GM assigned, and I assume you can find more of them out and about. And … I do love them. These are from the Oddity Table on pgs 305-307 of the Discovery corebook, and they’re just … so illustrative of this future fantasy, scavenger world, 'remants of past civilisations' setting.

I think one of the things that I most love is that, from the characters’ POV, in their medieval fantasy setting, these are inscrutable artefacts of a bygone civilisation, but from our POV, with our technology, you can so clearly see what some of them are intended to be:

26 – Series of thin plastic cards that show all kinds of unknown creatures. (Somebody had trading cards or card games during the past billion years)

20 – Plastic bottle that contains a spray that cleans any stain and never runs out. (Somebody finally invented a universal household cleaner, an infinite universal household cleaner, I bet they made an absolute mint)

30 – Metallic jar that maintains the temperature of liquid inside indefinitely. (Somebody made an improved thermos)

60 – Cup that instantly boils any liquid poured into it. (As well as an instant tea/instant pot noodle/instead meal cup)

33 – Small wand-like device that keeps away normal insects in a 5ft radius. (As well as mobile personalised insect zappers)

55 – Shirt that displays your muscles, bones and internal organs when you wear it. (And, for whatever reason, a portable x-ray shirt? Was this a practical invention first, for field x-rays, or was it for funsies, or both?)

58 – Bracelet with a tiny bell charm that rings like a massive bell when intentionally rung. (Personal protective device?)

80 – A bracelet that rends you unable to reproduce while worn. (An easy, non-invasive contraceptive device, interesting)

76 – Ceramic ring that makes you feel as though gentle hands are caressing your body. (As well as a possible sex toy? Or aide for touch-hunger? Not going to lie, if I touched this with no context and no idea what it was going to be, I’d freak the hell out)

79 – A pair of small, floating cubes that keep a small, enclosed room at the temperature at which water freezes. (Portable refrigeration)

Like, a lot of these are clearly futuristic novelty items or household appliances, as well as some more in-depth and casual medical technology. And I love that? I love that. You’re in a medieval fantasy scavenger world where the detritus of past super-futuristic civilisations litter your world, and you’re there picking up random bits of ancestor junk and trying from your own frame of reference to figure out what the fuck they had going on.

Some of the oddities are a bit more inscrutable even from our POV.

7 – Box with a tiny group of musicians in it who play when it is opened and look horrified when it is closed. (Now, this could be a novelty item again, but this is also a setting where ancient crystal obelisks eat people and trans-dimensional portals and pocket dimensions are also a thing, so … not beyond the bounds of possibility that those are live and enslaved musicians getting shunted into a pocket stasis dimension every time you close the lid)

And some have a language barrier in effect:

16 – Small rod that emits a voice saying the same thing in an unknown language every time a button is pushed. (Could be anything from a personal memo to an ancient distress call)

47 – Five metallic plates that orbit around your head and display ever-changing, unknown symbols. (I fucking love this one, if I was a scholar in this world I would dedicate my life to figuring out this language from the presumption that those symbols are some form of reading from me and if I can just figure out what they’re reading from what symbols show when, maybe I can Rosetta stone this language out? I mean, that’s a lot of assumptions, but you’d have to at least try, right?)

There’s also a series of oddities that are clearly communication/monitoring devices:

17 – Glass plate that shows what seems to be a live image of the moon, but from a closer vantage.

43 – Glass cube that shows what seems to be a live aerial view of an unknown, ruined city.

89 – Plate of glass that, when you view the night sky through it, reveals ten times as many stars.

And we, the players, know that the setting does have ancient satellites still in orbit around the planet, full of nanomachines and other ancestors-know-what. So these are clearly receivers for satellite feeds, or possibly in the last case a light-pollution filter. Though I’d be interested to know if that last one is a live image, or if it’s an image of the stars of this world several million years ago.

And then, in the midst of all that, there are several oddities that are clearly just art, or novelties, or just for fun:

57 – Amulet that, when worn, projects holographic images of fish swimming around you.

Is this a nightlight? A holographic art piece? A fun fashion accessory? I don’t know, but I desperately want one, and no matter how useless it is, I would not sacrifice this one oddity for any number of more useful cyphers or artefacts. It’s pretty, and I love it.

I love the design philosophy of these, the illustration of the world and its history that they provide. And, I mean, some of them, like D&D trinkets, can also function as plot hooks. Where is that unknown city on the live feed? Are those musicians real people trapped in a horrifying pocket dimension? Could you Rosetta-stone one of the ancient languages from that metallic plate device, and if you could, what other, potentially more powerful secrets would it unlock?

They’re just … I love trinkets. I love environmental worldbuilding, I love archaeology, I love the illustration of setting inherent in physical objects. These are fantastic.  

Trinket tables are the best. Honestly, if you are designing a game, do put in a class of objects that don’t exist for any mechanical, game purpose, but are just there to show your world. To show the ethos of your world via the tiny details and physical objects that populate it.

Also, this game appears to be, to a large extent, ‘fantastic archaeology: the setting’, and I’m here for it. Absolutely!

[wearehea]

Pandora

Part 2 of 2

Synopsis: Bang Chan is your dance student, but tonight he seems particularly unruly.

Fic content: Bang Chan x afab reader, smut, softdom!chan, sub!reader, idol!chan, pet names, praise kink, swearing.

This is an adult fanfiction, Minors do not interact.

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

"Show me."

Every inch of your body is awake right now, head to toes. Your heart is throwing a fanfare.

"Wha..,I uh..." you stammer.

Like a hunting wolf, he leans closer. Slowly, paw by paw, until he's inches away from your face. So close you have to lean back on your elbows not to fall.

"I just think...."his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips. Hungry. "It's a shame..."His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. You feel his breath on your skin, intoxicating. "For such a pretty girl to go unnoticed." His fingers travel to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Don't you think? "

You're in no capacity to speak, but he's waiting. Waiting to see if you want more. Not moving until you say you do. Still smirking.

"Yeah" you finally whisper. Damn you if you're going to let this golden opportunity fly by. You need this too much.

"Good!" He chirps.

In one swift movement, he grabs both of your wrists and pins you down to the floor, arms above your head. He's towering over you now, looking insanely hot. Chan bends down so his lips can graze your jaw. With his free hand, he gets a feel of your waist, fingers digging into the flesh. You can't help the moan coming out of you when you feel his tongue lick your neck.

"That's the spirit" he breathes. He continues working on you, showering your throat, cheeks, and collarbone with wet kisses. Dear God. His lips, his tongue, his teeth. His hands holding you in place, his legs in between yours, his waist pressing into your core. Have you died and went to heaven? He's everywhere and yet it's not nearly enough.

Chan unties the drawstring from your pants with Impressive ease. He plays with the hem of your panties for while, looking very satisfied as you're wriggling on the floor, silently urging him to hurry up. When his hand finally ventures lower and he feels the patch of wetness between your legs, his eyes widen. You can't help but laugh. Doesn't he realize the effect he has one people? On you?

"Gosh you're pretty" he rasps.

His fingers slide between your folds, caressing all over but never entering. Which drives you mad, of course.

"Chan, I swear...Do something!" You manage to warn between moans.

"Say please"

Your toes start to curl. Oh, he's good at this.

"Please Channie, please please, I need more." You beg.

It's his turn to moan at your words, and he gives you what you crave. There's something about the two of you right now, on the studio floor, still sweaty from practice, that is delightfully dirty. You can feel your temperature starting to rise up, your mind getting more and more fuzzy.

He lets go of your wrists to run his hand through your disheveled hair. Your own hands grasp at his neck, pulling him closer as he continues to work his magic with his fingers. Your lips are so close it feels like you breathe each other's air. His eyes keep going from your mouth to your eyes with the hungriest look you've ever seen, but he doesn't burn this bridge, nor do you. You don't know how you feel about that. You'll think later.

You almost hit your head on the wooden floor when he suddenly curls his fingers inside you, sending an seismic wave of pleasure throughout your body. You cry out.

"That's it, Good girl" Chan groans. "Does that feel good? You deserve that, you know? Laying here all pretty for me. So wet. So sexy. Don't you think you deserve to come?"

His little monologue is too much for you to handle. Your fingernails dig into his skin, your mind goes blank. You're vaguely aware that he's still speaking, but you're miles away already and your body finally combust.

It takes a few moments to get down from this high, and when you sober up, you find he's sat you up and wrapped you in his arms, gently stroking your hair. He's also smiling like an idiot, as if he'd been the one to come undone just now. As if he didn't just give you the best orgasm of your life. God you love him.

"Thank-"

He puts a finger on your lips.

"Don't even say it" he scoffs. "I meant what i said. You're too cute to be ignored."

You roll your eyes.

"I mean, of course you're not just cute. You're talented. And smart too, and perfectly dirty and-"

That's the most flustered you've ever seen. It's stupidly endearing. It's your turn to smile like an idiot.

"What?" He actually blushes. "Oh, I'm ranting aren't I..."

You shake your head.

"It's not that." You say. He looks at you suspiciously.

"No, it's just..." You point at the very noticeable bulge in his pants. "What are we gonna do about that?"

End.

[kisuminight]

Types of Blade Magic

Blades follow an eight-element, three-typed magic system. Elements are light, dark, water, fire, wind, ice, earth, and lightning. The three types are healer, tank, dps.

Each pair of elements represents one virtue from opposite angles. Light and dark are idealistic justice and cynical justice; water and fire are tranquil bravery and passionate bravery. Wind and ice are subjective and objective truth. Earth and lightning are singular deep compassion and multiple shallow compassions. The Virtues don’t really impact how the magic works, but it can be used as a personality marker.

For example, a light Blade would find justice by setting up a public trial. A dark Blade would get revenge.

I understand that this Blade system is based on XC 2’s blade system, but I have never played XC 2. I discovered the blade system through the awesome YWKON fics by rarsneezes, which are the Blade system in a world with characters from the Tales series. Based on that and my general familiarity with the magic of Aeselia, spell names and effects are going to be from that magic system.

Also Aeselia magic system has a spell called Resurrection which does exactly what it says and I can’t pass that up for a DSMP AU.

Blades also have internal magic that makes them harder to kill than most Players. They are physically stronger as well, and have a passive regen that usually takes care of even the worst wounds within a day.

Blades, even strong Blades, don’t tend to have many techniques that are straight-up elemental manipulation on a massive scale. Usually, it is more along the lines of adding elemental damage to regular combat or casting passive, potion-like buffs.

Most elemental abilities are minor and active passively. For example, water Blades and ice Blades tend to have lower body temperatures. Fire Blades have higher body temperatures. Water Blades also don’t get wet in the rain and dry off very quickly after they stop swimming.

Another example, dark Blades tend to blend very well with the shadows. A more powerful dark Blade can even make themselves unnoticeable in bright daylight—people’s eyes just pass over them. Light Blades have the opposite issue, they tend to glow. They also tend to have a passive attention attraction, even when they don’t want to. A light Blade that is trying can make it near-impossible to look away from them.

~

c!Technoblade’s sense of direction is a facet of his powers as an earth Blade in this AU. I mostly chose earth because of the way he cares so deeply if you show him kindness in turn. Also one of the bonuses is that he would be able to use Ground Dasher or Gravity well or even Grand Cataclysm. Like, in this AU he could've done Doomsday by himself in 30min, but he decided to be nice and share.

c!Punz tends to use his passive notice-me-not often when he doesn’t feel like dealing with people, or when he’s gathering information.

Poor c!Dream is a light Blade, and because he is very powerful his passive is powerful as well. Even though he's not trying, he glows at night. Since he is pretending he is not a Blade, this ups his weirdness factor in the eyes of other server members. The decaying Resonance from pushing away c!George to protect him affects his aether control. The fact that it is hard not to notice him gets used by other server members, subconsciously, as part of the scapegoating process leading up to Stagedfinale.

I am unhappy about Doomsday + Wilbur said Dream is a tyrant + I am always thinking about him even though Techno and Phil were there too = Dream is the person solely/mostly at fault for Doomsday and other bad things and we need to deal with him right now.

[woodstoneb-b]

So another day dawns at Woodstone! And here are two of our heroes getting down to the business of reading.

Hetty: Is that sarcasm I detect? As ghosts we're unable to turn pages of books, I am truly jealous of these... pixels?

Alberta: That reminds me...Sam has the new People come in?

Thor: Thor far prefers the moving picture box, a whole world is contained in there -

Sass: The fact you can't actually read has nothing to do with that -

Thor: Also plenty of attractive people, removing clothes because of increasing temperature.

Sass: Actually...television may be a far better use of one's time...

Isaac: Well, I for one am far more partial to the written word than the trivial tales of man versus temperature. I imagine I'm reacquainting myself with the plays of Shakespeare or one of the great poets.

It was actually a children's book about rocket.

Isaac: Well, one must start somewhere.

Hetty: I must say, this is quite a faithfully recreation of my beloved family home.

Thanks, Hetty. By the way, to all our readers if you come to stay at our fine B&B you'll find my discerning eye in all dishes, which are all prepared on site.

Hetty: Well, once again I'm impressed by the accuracy of these little pixels.. Isaac and I often discuss the nature of death...

Isaac: It's spectre does tend to haunt us...

Right, yeah...haunts you.

Meanwhile here's No-Pants showing his amazing *heh* dart skills.

Trevor: Hey! I haven't played in 20 years, I'd like to see you do better.

Flower: Gee, Thor, I didn't think this show of yours was so literal.

Sass: No, Flower, this is Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares.

Thor: Thor often have nightmares involving flames...

Thor: Wait, what is this?! Who is this hairy man that has captured my Flower's attention?! I will rip his head from his body and -

Woooah, OK, let's settle down, it's just a game, Thor.

Flower: Yeah, although...I like the furriness -

No, no, let's move right on.

Hetty: Hmm, Isaac and I usually have a pondering sessions in the Upstairs Den, but I think this location is far better.

Uh, no, the Library of Woodstone is for use of guests, at least in the daytime.

Hetty: ARRRRRRRRGH!!!

Yikes, whoa...what is this all about?

Hetty: I imagine Pixel me is realising that the life of a ghost awaits her and is suitably distressed by this.

Right...uh...well, in the real B&B, there's no screaming in the night.

Alberta: Well, not screaming, but -

There's no disturbing noises at all in this place, I promise you.

Er, this is an interesting development...No-Pants and the Lady of the House talking?

Trevor: Hey, we've got heaps in common!

Hetty: That's true, we both partook in the magical medicine known as coca-

COCOA, yep, hot cocoa is another speciality here at Woodstone B&B, we purchase it fresh from the local market in the nearby town. You can request it be brought to your room every morning.

Hetty: Oh, the portable telephone device! I can't believe Pixel Trevor has one of his very own!

Actually, in this game, you all -

Trevor: Shut up and let me have this, bro.

We also have this fine lake on our property (where there's absolutely nothing like a dead body submerged in it or anything like that)

Thor: But does it have cod? Thor would be very happy to find out!

Alberta: Well, when I was alive I had to wash my clothing myself, and not with these new-timey automatic washing machines, so I won't even complain about doing it.

Flower: Besides! Washing Machines are fun.

DON'T continue that sentence, please.

Hahaha this is just hilarious!

Hetty: Excuse me! The Lady of the Manor should not be shown in such manner, even in pixelated form.

Now, usually the well-stocked and appointed kitchen of Woodstone is the domain of yours truly, but here in the game, our heroes are free to use it.

Alberta: Eating something prepared by Flower? Boy, that could end up very interesting, if you know what I mean.

Sass: Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Alberta, and I'm not going to risk it.

Flower: Come on, guys, I'm not going to slip weed in your food, I mean unless you want me to.

This is something that will not happen at Woodstone, where all state and federal laws are strictly followed.

Oh geeze, isn't in bad enough you're No-Pants? You want to be No-Shirt too?

Trevor: Hey, if you've got it...flaunt it ;O)

Isaac: I have to admit, your confidence in yourself is quite something, Trevor. How exactly did you come by it?

Trevor: Well, you know a lot of it is just natural, but you -

Let's move right on from that.

Thor: Alberta did not actually do final part of cloth-washing process, drying.

Alberta: Why would I do that when we've got a clean-freak like you to do it?

Hahahaha, did you get sent to the naughty corner, No-Pants?

Trevor: Hey, my favourite colour is green, so I'm just enjoying the ambience here.

Isaac: He was being extremely annoying and when I told him so, he went off to sulk.

Thor: By the Mighty Fist of Odin! How does so much clothing accumulate in this game?!

Well, there are 8 of you, and you change clothes at least once a day, so do the maths.

Thor: Thor is not good with numbers.

Speaking of numbers...once again we've reached the maximum photos allowed! Stay tuned to see Thor's continual fight with the laundry and No-Pants refusing to even put a shirt on.

Until next time.

[alongcomesaspider]

Kiss me Deadly

Rating: E // ao3 link // Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 //Post S4, Eddie lives, Idiots to lovers, Miscommunication, “practice” kissing

“I don’t know about this, man.” 

“It’s really not a big deal, I swear. Tommy and I did it in high school.” 

“I’m sorry, you and Tommy fucking Hagan made out in high school?”

“Yeah! As like… practice.” 

Eddie’s just staring blankly at Steve now with his mouth open slightly. They’re both sitting cross legged on Steve’s plush living room floor. They’ve got some random drinks and snacks open haphazardly on the coffee table between them. Eddie’s rolling a joint for the two of them but has stopped halfway and put it down for this frankly insane line of conversation. The Clue movie might still be playing on the TV but Eddie isn’t really sure. Doesn’t really care. He’s more occupied with the fact that Steve Harrington, one beer in, is offering to teach Eddie how to kiss. 

It started out innocently enough. Steve seemed so surprised by Eddie’s lack of experience. Eddie explained it wasn’t for lack of trying which led into a whole conversation about flagging which was kinda funny. Steve asked what people who liked to top and bottom did with their handkerchief and Eddie just laughed and said he didn’t know. Eddie then nearly choked on his beer when Steve cut through the silence to offer this absolutely ludicrous idea. I mean, it’s not like Eddie hasn’t thought about kissing Steve. He’s definitely thought about it. Maybe even got off to the thought of him once or twice. 

I mean, with how close they’ve been this past summer how could he not? What with Steve always running around in the smallest shorts known to man and picking up Eddie with barely any effort to throw him in the pool. While shirtless, mind you! That’s not to even mention all the play fighting. Eddie was shocked he managed to not pop a boner the last time they wrestled. Steve’s whole body weight had him pinned against the ground, helpless. That alone really did it for him. The huskily whispered, ‘gotcha.’ Steve gave to him right against his ear certainly didn’t help matters. Sue him if he’s used his imagination a little. 

Apparently Eddie’s been staring too long because now Steve sounds a little defensive when he speaks again. 

“Look, man you don’t have to say yes. I was just offering.” 

Oh, he has to save this. Obviously he wants to kiss Steve. Are these ideal circumstances? No. But I mean, what was he expecting? For Steve to, magically and against every law in the universe, return his weird fucking crush one day? Yeah, get real.

“No, no. I do. I want to.” 

Mmm, too honest. Dial it back.

“I mean, if you think it’ll help.”

Eddie thinks he did good because Steve’s lopsided smile is back and he’s stopped nervously picking at the soggy label on his probably room temperature beer. But now that smile looks a little mischievous and he’s climbing onto the couch and patting his lap. 

“C’mere then.”

Oh, Jesus H. Christ.

“Alright.” 

Eddie takes one last swig of his beer as he climbs to his feet. Licks his lips as he sets down the bottle on the coffee table with a clink. His heart is beating so fast and hard he can hear the blood rushing in his fucking ears. Steve just looks up at him so sweetly as Eddie lowers himself into his lap. Steve can feel that Eddie is trying to hold back some of his body weight. In response he scrunches up his eyebrows and then does something that makes Eddie want to scream. He grabs Eddie’s hips firmly, but not harshly, and pulls him down until he’s fully sat. 

“You’re not that heavy dude. Do you not remember me picking you up last weekend?”

Only been jerking off to the thought of it like every night since, why?

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not that light either. Still had your ass pinned in that boathouse, Stevie.”

Something not unlike arousal flashes across Steve’s face at the memory and he shifts a little under him. Or maybe Eddie was just projecting. At the time Eddie was terrified obviously but his fucked up brain has since altered the memory a bit. Or, at least conjured up some alternate hornier scenario. 

“No, no you’re right. I’m sorry. You’re a big, strong boy.” 

Steve’s tone is sarcastic and his smile is wide. Eddie laughs and shoves his shoulder. Now they’re both laughing. The tension dissipates a bit but only briefly. 

“Shut up. So annoying.”

Their laughter naturally dies down and now Steve’s looking up at Eddie like he wants to devour him. Or again, maybe Eddie is projecting. He looks so pretty with the late afternoon light catching in his eyes from the window. Eddie tries to take a deep breath into his lungs. Realizes he’s shaking a little with how much he wants this. 

“Okay, so… what now?” 

Steve’s smile only widens further. His voice is soft but direct.

“Now you kiss me. Show me what I’m working with first. Then I’ll give you pointers.” 

The way Steve just laid it out all simple like that is messing with Eddie’s head immeasurably. The soft timbre of his voice rattles around in Eddie’s skull. Fucks him all sorts of up.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s voice comes out shakier than he would like and Steve rubs slow circles into Eddie’s sides. It’s somehow both comforting and maddening at the same time. Despite all his rattled nerves and ricocheting heart, Eddie leans in. Steve’s lips are soft and warm. He smells good, like his cologne and something else. Something warm and entirely Steve. 

Eddie only kisses him gently twice before moving to pull back but Steve leans in and captures his lips again before he can get too far away. He gets his hand snaked in Eddie’s hair by his neck and tugs just a little bit. That pulls an involuntary moan out of Eddie’s throat and he gets a little overeager. Tries to slot his open mouth against Steve more than actually kiss him. He feels embarrassed but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. His smile is soft when he pulls back just far enough to talk again. Eddie can feel little puffs of Steve’s breath against his face but he doesn’t want to open his eyes. 

“Slow down, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

Baby, baby, baby. Holy shit. Did he really just call me that? What the fuck?

“Okay.”

Eddie tries to follow Steve’s lead this time. He’s rewarded with more kisses and these soft, content little moans that keep escaping from Steve. Then just as Eddie is getting used to this kind of kissing Steve is licking at the seam of Eddie’s mouth. Pulling back just far enough to speak again. He sounds just as breathless as Eddie feels. 

“Let me in but don’t try and eat me, yeah? Play gentle.” 

Eddie’s whole body feels like fucking goo. Like he could just melt into the floor. In lieu of words he just nods and squeezes the tops of Steve’s shoulders. 

A few moments pass by of their lips just moving together. Then Steve’s tongue barely teases Eddie’s and Eddie feels like he’s going to explode. He moans a little louder than he means to and Steve smiles into the kiss again. Their kisses turn deeper, then. Desperate, almost frantic. They’re both breathing hard. Steve grinds his hips up into his and Eddie realizes with a rush of guilt and panic that he’s hard. Steve is pulling away and Eddie finally opens his eyes again. The sight that greets him is infuriatingly gorgeous. Steve’s hair is all mussed up and his cheeks are flushed so pink. Their eyes meet and Eddie wishes he could disappear. He starts stuttering and moving to get up before he even means to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, we can stop. I—“

Steve shushes him gently and takes his hand. Guides it to the front of his own shorts. Eddie looks down right as Steve makes Eddie rub him through his pants where he’s clearly aching and hard, too. Hard for him. Eddie did that to him. That thought bounces around Eddie’s head over and over again. 

“M’hard too. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Fuck, Eddie feels like he must have just died.  There’s no other way he’s actually doing this right now.

“My kissing is alright, then?” 

Steve laughs at the question and nods. 

“Really good. You’re a quick learner.” 

Eddie just huffs out a breath at that and relaxes back into Steve’s lap. When he makes eye contact with Steve they both start cracking up like they both just realized how ridiculous this whole situation is. Eddie rests his head on Steve’s shoulder as their laughter dies down. Steve rubs his back for a bit. It’s really nice but Eddie isn’t satisfied. Never seems to be with anything when it comes to Steve. He wants more. He lifts off of Steve’s shoulder slowly and cradles his face in his hands. They both speak up at the same time. 

“Do you wanna–“

Now they’re laughing again. Eddie lets Steve speak first. 

“Do you wanna stop for now?”

Eddie bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. Steve smiles at that and reaches up to pull Eddie’s bottom lip out from where it’s trapped. Eddie doesn’t think before he gets Steve’s thumb into his mouth. Sucks and laps his tongue in a circle like he’s sucking something else. He’s worried he’s gone too far at first. Crossed whatever weird line they’ve both created with this “practicing”. But Steve just groans and pulls him back down by the neck to start kissing him again. 

That electric feeling between them is back again and Eddie is so hard he swears he could cry. Steve doesn’t seem to be faring much better if the little punched out noises he keeps making are anything to go by. Eddie grinds his hips down, seeking friction. He’s met with Steve’s erection against his through thin layers of fabric and it's so, so good. He pulls back just far enough to look down at them. It’s just as hot as he pictured. When he looks up at Steve’s face again though he looks torn. Then he’s grabbing Eddie’s hips to stop him. He sounds breathless again.

“It’s getting late. We should probably stop.” 

Eddie knows it’s not actually that late. Plus it’s a Friday anyways so neither of them have work. He can tell that’s not the point, though. Shame and a little bit of panic swirl in his gut as he moves to get off of Steve’s lap. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” 

He stands there awkwardly for a second before speaking up again. 

“I need a smoke.” 

He tries to sound casual but it doesn’t quite come out right as he grabs his lighter off the table and heads for the back door. His hands are still shaking a bit as he brings them to his mouth. After flicking the lighter a few times with no luck Eddie curses and turns around to head back inside. Steve is already sliding the door open with a sheepish look on his face, though. They make eye contact as he closes the door behind him and lifts a lighter up in his other hand. 

“Oh, thanks man.”

“No problem.”

“You want one?”

“Sure.” 

For once the silence between them as they sit and smoke is awkward. Steve eventually breaks it. 

“We uh, we can just pretend that never happened. If you want.”

Eddie’s stomach does a weird flop at that as he finally meets Steve’s eye. 

“Huh?”

“You know, the whole kissing thing. Sorry I suggested it.”

Eddie doesn’t want to forget it. He wants to do it again. Wants to do way more than just kiss. But that’s clearly not what Steve wants. And what was he expecting, really? For someone like Steve to ever be into someone like him? I mean, sure they’ve been through hell together and like each other’s company just fine but that doesn’t mean they’d ever be anything more. Steve was just being a good friend and having fun at the same time. How was he supposed to know about Eddie’s weird obsession with him if he didn’t mention it? God, would he freak out if he knew just how much Eddie was into it? How often Eddie thought about him?

The cicadas continue to sing and Eddie’s cigarette crackles softly as he takes a long drag. He’s trying really hard not to be hurt over this. I mean, he did this to himself.

“It’s fine. You were just… helping me out, right? No big deal.” 

Steve nods and takes his own long drag. Slaps a mosquito that landed on his leg. Eddie feels a little sick. 

“Okay. Cool.” 

“Cool.” 

They both try to move on after that but everything just feels off. Eventually they both get tired and decide to try and get some sleep. Eddie isn’t sure whether he’s happy or not that Steve still wants to share a bed like they normally do. 

That night the warmth from Steve that has always lulled him to sleep does nothing but keep him awake. 

[coffeeandritalin]

Reactions and questions as I watch episode 3 of Cang Yue Jin Ming/Till the End of the Moon. (Possibility of spoilers ahead)

What... how is a frog alive and hopping around in the dead of winter? Actually, now that we mention it... how are all these birds alive in winter? Like I'll give that one crow a pass because it's a magical telepathic crow, but the frog??

He's basically an evil Disney princess

Can you even feel someone's temperature through their bangs?

X-D she absolutely should never ever work for a spy agency

Are they not cold!? I mean IRL, they're probably not... but look how heavily it's "snowing"!

I'm glad she's coming around to the "maybe treating people like absolute sh** will make them build resentment and cause them to lash out" idea...

I mean... sir, you do act very strangely... sigh. But I guess it's fair that he's super jaded and traumatized.

Oh dear... does she actually know what she's doing with those sewing supplies?

Sir! Sir! You are letting all the heat out! What is wrong with you people?

I like how she's trying to be kind to him, and he just thinks she's gone off the bender X-D

Oh no! The older brother is going to be a d*ck!

Awwwww the first time he's speaking up about being bullied is because someone f*cked up the pretty new coat his wife bought him <3

What's with the dramatic camera shot of his hand? What does this mean??

I like that the guys get some pretty, dangly hair accessories, too. Still not as elaborate and large as the ladies, but still - exciting stuff for me *kira eyes*

Sigh why do emperors always need to weaken their strongest military generals -_- (I mean... I get why... but these emperors need to watch more cdramas. Those ploys never end up well.)

Wtf. Who this? Shouldn't the maid have warned LSS/YXW that there was still a person living here?

D*** this nanny looks super young too. Just... everyone in Sheng Guo found the fountain of youth I guess.

The question still stands. Everyone seems to approve of Sixth Prince with YBC. Why aren't they already married? Oh I guess the emperor is hesitant because he's playing the paranoid emperor trope.

TTJ sweetie... how about we lie for now and then just not report anything -_-. TTJ too honesty for his own good. No wonder he didn't survive the palace.

I agree... Steward Wu does indeed talk too much.

But also, how did they get TTJ's level of volume back in the day? DId they have an ancient form of a blow dryer or hair spray? It looks fabulous.

Lol Steward Wu is a caricature of a bad guy and it's mildly amusing (for now... I'll probably get tired of it in 5 min)

ooooh no..... i needed trigger warning for that... warning for others that don't like bugs... a wasp flies into Steward Wu's ear >.< eeeuuughhhhh.... nuuuuuu (like it was fake looking, but it still freaks me out... nuuu why....)

oh.... well... guess I won't be getting tired of Steward Wu anymore...

oooh nooo.... another warning... they showed the wasp crawling back out T.T

I guess there were TTJ has been getting little moments of revenge before now. Or maybe he's only just started. Not clear. but d***.

Oh... Xiao Lin has been cultivating... so is he the shixiong????

Junior Martial Uncle is from Xiaoyao sect, but LSS called GYJW shixiong which would imply he's from the Hengyang sect... I'm so confused about the relationship of these two sects and also who is from what sect... Also, is Xiao Lin (sorry I can't use XL for anyone except Xie Lian) GYJW or not?? THE MYSTERIES!

LMAO junior martial uncle's face... he's like... "son... you are such a killjoy" X-D

KITTY!!!!!!!!

Oooh... YBC being kind of shady here... why not announce yourself? (Like I wouldn't either... but in cdramas this is usually sus)

I bet this an intentional misunderstanding. Like that magical crow ordered the wasp to attack Steward Wu and it wasn't actually TTJ's doing.

Nuuuuu he was just starting to build a little bit of trust toward her T.T.

Yeah... again... what's going on with that right hand of his. OH! Is that where the evil bone is!?

Oh. Previous theory canceled. TTJ did order the wasp. Womp womp.

YXW (thinking): gotta trick the truth out of him... YXW (speaking): you know anything about the dude dropping dead in the palace today?

Again... warning to all spy agencies throughout the universe... do not hire this woman X-D

Wow! She just outs herself. *face palms* This woman is on another level.

LMAO X-D. She's just sits and gets ready to enjoy his strip show X-D.

*watches as lady demon just clouds into the palace* But for real... what were they expecting regular mortal humans to do against a demon? *smh*

Oh no! The nanny!

hmmm... "This was mine to begin with" - what was?

OH! She's actually in PJs! And her hair accessory is out! Hurrah! But also at what point did she change/undress? She definitely got under the covers fully clothed and accessorized. Does Chuntao come in at night to get her into jammies?

Oh! There's something demonic inside her? The plot clumpens...

Oh my bad. This is Ye Bingchang. Huh! Even more sus and interesting.... The plot clumpens further...

X-D There's a minimum of 6 buns in that bowl. And then that's 7 lol.

I love that he just thinks she's off her rocker and has gone crazy X-D.

KITTY!

Omg I love Pang Ziyi.

Hmmm... he doesn't seem all that worried about rescuing YBC... was he just faking liking her? Or does he simply just prefer keeping his secret safe over liking her?

She stole his cat! X-D

Is this lady demon going to try and pick up TTJ for her garden and get caught or something as a result?

Wait... why would the nanny have memories of him eating that pastry? She wasn't there. ALso, why would she have memories of him kneeling on ice in Ye Manor? She def wasn't there... mentally or physically...

Really? She's afraid of a crow? Well... i guess they are bad omens and harbingers of evil...

It's kind of sweet that he has the crow keep its distance away from YXW.

Ooooh... he writes with his left hand eh? Oh... no. he was just disguising his handwriting. Fair... But... that lefthanded calligraphy is ridiculously good. Like does he practice on the reg for just in case moments like this??

Hmmm she's grabbing his right hand. Is that going to be a problem for him?

Now kith.

Pang Ziyi. Sir, you are perfectly useless, and I love you for it. His biggest contribution thus far was saving YXW from a crow. What a king. Lmao he's even acknowledging that his junior is more competent than him. All of this is excellent.

Lmao hilarious. Xiao Lin ends up actually getting the secret note from TTJ. (Side note, Xiao Lin's hair and accessories are so pretty <3)

Hm. Was his hair piece always this elaborate and fancy? I mean he looks very good. But... he's gone from a single hairpin to this fancy hair crown.

What. He caught her and they fell together. Why are they so far apart now and facing opposite directions. Did they horizontally ballerina twirl away from each other as they fell?

Ooooh his telepathy with creature comes from his tribe/mama... not from the evil bone.

I really like this song.

Huh... i really had a lot of reactions and thoughts today... Hope that kitty is ok!

[starseedfxofficial]

Hull Moving Average vs. Inflation Rate: The Hidden Dynamics Traders Are Overlooking Let’s talk about trading indicators. Now, I know what you’re thinking: "Another moving average article? I'd rather watch paint dry!" But trust me, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill story about averages. No, today we’re unraveling the Hull Moving Average (HMA) and its secret tango with the inflation rate. And by the time we’re done, you’ll realize just how much this pairing can make or break your Forex success. The Hull Moving Average—Smoother than a Netflix Romance To kick things off, let’s dig into the Hull Moving Average. Unlike its choppier cousins—the Simple Moving Average (SMA) and the Exponential Moving Average (EMA)—the HMA is that one friend who’s always calm under pressure. It’s designed to reduce lag, which in trading terms means it doesn’t make you late to the party like the other averages do. The HMA gets you to the right place at the right time—kind of like using Google Maps without the rerouting chaos. Here's the funny thing, though. Most traders approach the HMA like someone buying a “perfect” skincare product: they expect it to solve all their problems without putting in any work. Let me break it to you: HMA isn't magic. It’s like a fantastic, non-slippery shoe—but you’ve still got to learn the dance. How the Inflation Rate Changes the Game (Hint: It’s Not Just a Buzzword) I can hear you thinking, "Okay, but what does inflation have to do with all this?" Glad you asked. Inflation—the rise in prices over time—is not just for economists to rant about. It's the background music that determines the tempo of currency movement. When inflation rates go up, purchasing power goes down, and central banks start throwing interest rate hikes at the problem like confetti at a wedding. Now, here’s the kicker: inflation indirectly impacts your trading indicators. Most traders get so focused on their HMA lines that they completely miss the bigger picture—like staring at your shoelaces and ignoring the charging bull headed your way. Inflation changes economic landscapes, and if you’re not pairing your HMA with an understanding of inflation, you’re basically trying to dance in the dark. Spoiler alert: it rarely ends well. What Most Traders Miss About the HMA-Inflation Connection (And How You Can Profit) So, how do the Hull Moving Average and inflation rate play together? Picture this: the HMA is like the temperature gauge in your car, and inflation is the road conditions outside. If inflation spikes, the road is getting icy, and things are about to get slippery. Your HMA will reflect this by making the price trend appear smoother, but that doesn’t mean the market’s truly stable—it’s just concealing potential volatility. Here’s a contrarian take: instead of just observing HMA crossovers, try correlating them with inflation reports. When inflation rises, expect central banks to intervene, which could create those “blink and you’ll miss it” trading opportunities. The HMA’s smoothness can be deceptive here—making you think things are under control—so you need to know when the underlying “pressure” (inflation) might cause the currency to break out of its trend. Ninja Tip: Timing Your Trades Using the HMA and Inflation Trends Imagine you’re timing a perfect trade—something every trader dreams of, right? Let’s take an unconventional approach here. Suppose you have your HMA signaling an upward trend in USD/JPY. Now, imagine the inflation rate in Japan is decreasing while in the U.S., it’s creeping up. While most retail traders will see this as a simple uptrend and jump in with enthusiasm akin to Black Friday shoppers, you’re going to take a step back. Why? Because that subtle inflation uptick could mean an impending U.S. interest rate hike, which might strengthen the dollar further than what’s reflected in your HMA line alone. Instead of piling in like everyone else, wait for confirmation—watch for a sudden spike after an inflation announcement. This is where patience beats impulse, and where the HMA can guide you, not dictate your every move. Personal Anecdote: My Almost 'Inflation Got Me' Story Speaking of patience, let me tell you about the time inflation almost wiped me out. Picture this: I was cruising through a trade on GBP/USD, watching my Hull Moving Average crossover confirm a perfect setup—at least that’s what I thought. But inflation data out of the U.K. was due that very afternoon. Did I remember to check it? Of course not. I was too busy admiring my ‘perfect setup.’ Long story short, inflation came in hotter than expected, the Bank of England hinted at a rate hike, and I watched my position plummet like an undercooked soufflé. Lesson learned: HMA is fantastic for trend visibility, but ignoring macroeconomic events like inflation is like ignoring a fire alarm because you like the song playing in the background. Disrupting Common Myths: The “Smooth” Is Not Always Stable Many traders think a smooth HMA trend means stability—but here’s the thing: the smoother it looks, the more you should be on alert. This is counterintuitive, but remember that the HMA’s smooth nature comes from its calculation, which suppresses volatility. The market doesn’t care about your desire for peace and quiet; it’s moved by investor emotion, central bank decisions, and yes, inflation data. Take advantage of what most traders get wrong. When inflation is making headlines, use your HMA to see how the market is “pretending” to react, and then take a contrarian view if you see that smoothness getting too unrealistic. The key is knowing when to trust the HMA and when it’s just trying to lull you into a false sense of security. The Secret Sauce to Mastering the HMA-Inflation Combo Okay, here’s where the real magic happens. To combine the HMA effectively with inflation awareness, use it to confirm your fundamentals. For example, if inflation reports indicate rising prices, be on the lookout for HMA turning points—but don’t act solely on them. Compare with the Relative Strength Index (RSI) to get a sense of overbought or oversold conditions. Think of it as baking a cake. The HMA gives you the right temperature, inflation tells you when the guests are arriving (which might force you to bake faster), and RSI is the taste test to see if it’s ready. If all three line up? Boom—you've got yourself a profitable trade. Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And How You Can Avoid It) Most traders rush into setups because they’re chasing that thrill. But smart trading means avoiding FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and embracing FOGI (Fear of Getting In—at the wrong time). Use the Hull Moving Average as a trusted companion, not the driver. Always zoom out to include inflation trends before you make your move. If you think of trading like surfing, the HMA is the board, inflation is the wave, and your patience is what keeps you from getting dunked. Elite Tactics to Dominate Using HMA and Inflation Rate Together - Use the HMA to gauge short-term price movements, but let inflation data dictate your entry and exit strategy—especially when inflation surprises the market. - Combine HMA signals with fundamental analysis, including economic indicators like CPI (Consumer Price Index), which drives inflation rates. If CPI comes in hot, anticipate market reactions beyond what the HMA shows. - If inflation is spiking in a country whose currency you're trading, look at how the central bank might respond—then use your HMA to time your trades around their anticipated moves. Inflation and HMA—The Power Couple You Never Knew You Needed The Hull Moving Average is like a slick, precision tool in your trading toolkit, but it’s not meant to be used in isolation. The inflation rate adds an entirely new dimension—the hidden driver behind many of the market moves that confuse less experienced traders. By understanding how these two factors intertwine, you’ll sidestep common pitfalls and open the door to opportunities most traders miss. So next time you're about to pull the trigger on that HMA crossover, pause. Take a look at the inflation trends, gauge the sentiment, and remember—it's not just about what the lines on your screen say. It’s about reading between those lines, seeing the story they’re not quite telling, and making moves that are not only informed but also one step ahead of the competition. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[hearsayhorizons]

Cheers

There is a place that knows your name, and it knows everything else about you, too. Stepping inside the house eases the aches of age and gravity and anxiety. Every night’s sleep is deep and restful. It stocks the foods from your childhood with the original formulas and ingredients intact. It has room and supplies for the hobby you always wanted to try, and the materials for that next gadget that will really change your playstyle or work methods.

Facilities and tools that would be strange or unfamiliar elsewhere just make sense inside the house. You’ll never spend an awkward fifteen minutes trying to work the stove or the shower faucet, and you’ll know what a shower faucet is. The water is always the perfect temperature.

The house holds multitudes at any one time, but it always feels like a slow day in a library or a student center where you never need to compete for seats—unless you want frenetic, athletic activities. You’ll find any place or want or vibe if you look for it.

Many people who hear of the house become adventurers to find its rounded halls. They remain adventurers to pay their way.

—----

I sometimes run tabletop games for my friends. I recently completed a one-shot successfully, but in the past I would get an idea or seize on a campaign (hello, Strahd), be all jazzed for character creation and everyone’s ideas, power through session 1 with “I want to show off x!!” and then the social anxiety and difficulty stringing ideas along and problems with improv and characters and a “better to not try than fail” mentality sniped me. There have been a lot of “we’ll get back to it”s.

One of my issues is putting the cart before the horse? High concept games that have a GREAT premise but I really need to work on the meat/pacing/small moments. I am running a session 0 today. I am starting small. I am starting semi-directed based on what kind of campaign I would play (per my husband’s advice) and what I know the others are into/up for. My interest is in a sort of carrot: motivation to adventure based on giving the characters a really neat base/downtime area/place where they can meet literally any NPC from any setting or time period for jobs.

It’s a genie bottle, and ergo a room of requirement—whatever you need, as modern or not as you want/know, with gyms, pools, gardens.

The trick is that you can’t stay longer than three days—the place has a constant restorative effect that is addicting.

BUT. The house gives freely within its walls; you can’t take it with you UNLESS you pay. If you leave the house without agreeing to a work contract or other provision, the food you brought with you molders. The food you recently ate rots in your belly. The energy IT GAVE YOUR LIMBS fades. You have a retroactive Super Hangover. That’s another reason for the 3-day rule; if something goes awry, getting kicked from the house shouldn’t kill you after three days. But if you stay three months, and then leave without payment or pact? You step through your door, a door, and retroactively dehydrate to death.

I’m contemplating “the house steals back the air it gave you” and it’s just DEATH if you fuck the house over and dip, but that’s probably a bridge too far. Rather, people bring air/vitality with them when they come inside, which is one of the reasons the house really wants guests.

For the characters (and most adventurers), payment for these benefits means work in lieu of money. The house does not need most money. Payment is usually bounty contracts: missing people, stolen items, people who have harmed the house or who use it for nefarious deeds since the house doesn’t bar anyone entry.

I don’t think “the cushiest house/apartment complex you can imagine, but you pay to play” is too much. I’m afraid the jobs won’t be varied enough (and I’m honestly not sure if “smart house but magic” IS a campaign premise, but my chronic pain ass wants the wish fulfillment so bad).

 Is “you all found yourselves either by choice or chance in the house and now you need to pay/work if you want to access the benefits” too much? If I tell characters who try to use the house to make nuclear bombs or otherwise cheese the permissions that “your insides cramp as the food you ate from the house’s stores today starts to work its way back up” too much? I don’t want to force the characters out of bringing anything the house provided with them since I want it to be a good base, but I also don’t want thermal detonators or fifteen gallons of grease at play.

Also this is just a living plane ala Duskmourne from mtg, I just realized, but hey. That’s fine. Casita from Encanto is a baby plane. It’s been done. It’s fine.

[sigridhawke]

Hello! Some Crimson asks for the ask game you posted! The wyvern fellow: 🎓 🥊 ❤️ the princess:🧠 🍩 and your pick of character: 🧊 ✨🧠

Hello!! I would love to share about Crimson OCs! Thankyou for your asks!!!

The Wyvern Fellow - Nikolai

🎓- How long have you had the OC?

Technically since about 2006 I think, they are adjacent to my usual sona which has had a few tweaks to their design but ultimately kept majority of their features. In terms of specifically this form they have, I think it was the beginning of 2020. The story has changed a little but that’s when the original concept started!

🥊-What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

They love anywhere cold. As a wyvern of ice and lightning they thrive in the cooler climates and feel most at home/at peace in freezing temperatures. To that point they do enjoy shallow water that is cooler, floating on the surface and letting little ice crystals accumulate around them is their happy place.

They hate folk(people)lmao. Not the most socially adept individual it takes them a while to grow some kind of comfort/acceptance around being near folk and large crowds. To the first point they hate anything too hot that it would cost more energy to maintain their ice gauntlets. Without them as a weapon they feel more vulnerable and hate that.

❤️- What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Ohh this is a tough one. I think, as much as they deny it/keep a more colder appearance, one of their favourite memories ends up being going to the circus with Natasha ;v;

The Princess - Natasha

🧠- What do you like most about the OC?

Me being sappy here knowing Tash will read this (EHEHEH) I love this OC because she is my best friend. Not my OC but hers, our self insert characters have been friends/partners/etc in a lot of universes we share together. I love her as a character because she is so human and shows the struggle of someone the world expects so much of and the pressures she has on herself to meet those standards even though she is struggling. I love the genuine connection I feel to her as a character in the way she interacts with the world and the flaws she has and for how cruel the world can be and how powerful she is, she still chooses to be compassionate and work for peace.

🍩-Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Moonwhisper lmao. The creator that has made her job so much harder by putting sakes on her decision to find (and hopefully fix) the reason magic is fading from the world. Their interactions are like playing 3D or 4D chess and it is both a delight and struggle to write their interactions but their dynamic is probably my favourite.

Pick a character - I’m gonna pick Thane cause I love my boy so much.

🧊- Is their current design the first one?

Surprisingly it is! While majority of characters in Crimson as old OCs repurposed/integrated into this most shamelessly self indulgent and catering story, Thane is one I created to pair with Odin when Crimson was in its earliest stages. Originally Crimson was going to follow Thane and idk, he was one of those designs that just clicked right away. I think the only thing that changed was his hair colour but that was still during initial designing. His hair is a bit neater now I think but ultimately he has stayed the same :3c

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

*sweats and looks at Mass Effect 3* I really like Thane—  

🧠- What do you like most about the OC?

I love the challenge that comes with working through his curse and being caught in a timeloop. I love figuring out how he interacts with a world that both does and doesnt remember him from before he loses his memories. I love exploring his and Odin’s relationship given Odin’s tie to the curse doesn’t make him lose his memories. I also love that he was a shameless excuse to give my art muse a chance to show up as Thane’s own summon lmao.

Thankyou for the asks!!

If you would like to ask about my OCs : Ask Game for someone’s OC(s)

[goldenbeastkeeper]

"I'll live somewhere consistently warm and wear long sleeves," Valor declared with a smile. A declaration which was emphasized by Swift pausing in her play to nod with a chirp. "I already wear long sleeves in general. But that's just a thing with me and my sibling. We run warm. We're not like most witches." He waved his hand vaguely. "As I said before: immune to the boiling rains. Fire, too. It makes winter suck, though." Being particularly sensitive to the cold.

It made for a bad first experience of the human realm, getting stuck here at the end of winter. For the week before they were taken in by Will, they more or less lived in a hole in the ground that Valor had dug for temperature regulation. And even still it only did so much. Absolutely miserable. He was glad he didn't have to deal with that anymore.

. . . But winters still sucked.

Valor made a face. "Of course he's changed the name of it now . . ." Emperor's Coven. Oh he hated that. Gross. "Yeah, don't touch that thing with a ten foot pole." Any coven, really, since joining a coven meant getting branded with a sigil, but especially not that one.

". . . I wish I could help," he said softly when Issac suggesting doing something about all that. "He's the whole reason I'm here. I ran into him again about a year after leaving and just . . . panicked and fled. Happened again after I recovered but just from a poster that called him emperor. I just . . . saw green trees and knew it'd be the farthest away I could get from him. And then I was stuck." Two panic attacks in the span of . . . he didn't even know. An hour? Half an hour? One that sent him through a time pool and another that sent him to the human realm.

He crossed his arms on the table, one hand pulling at his sleeve. "I'm . . . better now. Therapy has helped. But I still don't know how I'd react if I came face to face with him again. I'd like to think I could stand my ground and fight back, but . . ." He shrugged.

Swift had slowly stopped playing now, watching her witch in case he needed her for any emotional support.

For now, though, he just continued, "And it definitely doesn't help that he's an extremely powerful magic-user on his own, though he uses a staff with artificial magic rather than a palisman." Valor winced. "Don't- don't let any palismen near him either, actually. He eats them."

He sighed. "The best I can guarantee doing is spreading the word, but even then I have to be careful. People shouldn't know that. And if his current right hand is just another kid raised by him like I was, they might take the blame for the leaked information, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that would be a death sentence for them. And if he doesn't have one at the time . . . Well, anyone found spreading the word would be killed in an instant. And most people probably wouldn't even believe he's a witch hunter bent on eradicating all denizens of the Isles anyway. He's built up a very good image of himself. Most would consider that crazy talk."

". . . But yes, despite all this, something does have to be done about it, if we can make it back."

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ"I've never lived anywhere else," Issac says with a laugh, "I feel I would hate being anywhere else long term."

The only time he ever in his life considered living anywhere other than the state of Washington was in Middle School and briefly daydreamed of being a Broadway Star and living in New York. That dream didn't last long.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ"I'm a long sleeves kind of person though," he says, pulling on the cuff of his cardigan, "I think I'd just die if I lived somewhere consistently warm."

Summer is rough enough. An island in a literal boiling sea and with literal boiling rain would be unbearable. It's definitely just a visit that he intends to do, should he manage to find a way there. Meet his grandparents, and then just go.

Especially with what Valor says next.

Sigils locking away all but one kind of magic explains a lot about his dad's distaste for the coven system- he was a life long scholar and was never satisfied with only learning one thing. He was best at bardic magic from his own education, and illusion from everything he could get from Harris. But he really tried his best to know as much of every kind of magic as he could.

But that being a death sentence was probably not his dad knew.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ"Classic cult leader BS, only I can talk to god, and what not," Issac mutters, "and I had heard passing mention of an emperors coven."

From Harris, not his father, but still. He does wonder how much of that his father might have known or suspected, with how reluctant he always was to talk about his home.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ"... Something needs to be done about that, if we can get there. All those people can't be left to die."

[bmblboop]

Bard Magic is lowkey b r o k e n (Also Raine is a genius)

From what we’ve seen so far in the series, Bard Magic is built upon using and manipulating sound waves. This type of magic is mostly channeled through musical instruments, but can also be achieved with whistling.

As Raine explains in Them’s the Breaks, Kid, they can use sound waves to manipulate the concentration/chemistry of particles in liquids, thus altering the composition. This means that on a molecular (or at least particulate) level, Raine had found a way to turn Bard Magic into Potion Magic. And as a kid, no less.

Now let’s fast forward to the end of the episode, after Raine’s ruse is revealed and they are chatting with Darius’ abomination. To dispose of the evidence, Raine whistles on the paper and it incinerates. 

Now there are two explanation of why this happens and both of them are insane to think about.

The first, and more physics-grounded explanation is that Raine agitated the molecules of the paper, vibrating them fast enough to raise the temperature of the paper and it burst into flame. This explanation implies that Raine can set fire to anything with the power of molecular vibration using only sound. Despite my best five-minutes of Googling, I cannot find a source telling me what frequency would have enough energy to ignite paper. But I WILL hazard a guess and say it’s a lot. If sound waves/loud singing is already culturally associated with shattering glass, I imagine the next logical step would be spontaneous combustion.

The second explanation lies in the fact that the paper doesn’t exactly burst into flame like you’d expect. Paper is highly combustible but we know what flames look like in this show. This incinerating magic that Raine uses looks suspiciously similar to the corruption effect that Eda emits when she uses Bard Magic:

[ID: Two side-by-side images. The first is of Raine whistling on a letter, which browns and turns to orange cinders. The second is of a piece of paper that Eda’s magic corrupted during the episode Eda’s Requiem. It is also browned around the edges with glowing orange cinders.]

The implication being that Raine figured out how to replicate Eda’s cursed effect on Bard Magic and then use it themself.

Don’t believe me? Do you remember the look on Raine’s face after Eda leaves, after seeing this strange cursed magic for the first time?

That is someone perplexed and curious about what the heck just happened. I know they lingered on this shot for a reason, to convey the strangeness of the magic, but more specifically Raine’s reaction to it. This is what Eda’s curse does to Bard Magic? What does that mean?

Later in the episode, we recognize that they saw potential in it - they suggested using the curse’s corruption as a way to escape capture, and maybe even take down the coven heads.

Recall that Raine only saw this type of magic used twice. They’ve never had a solid understanding of Eda’s curse outside of vague lines like “it messes with my magic.”

And yet, they reverse-engineered the Owl Beast curse and used it with their own Bard Magic by the episode Them’s the Break’s Kid.

If Bard Magic = Sound Waves and Sound Waves = Vibrations, then we have opened the floodgates because vibrations are physics.

Solid->Liquid->Gas? Vibration frequency

Solid -> Combustion? Vibration frequency

Electrons at the atomic level, thus affecting the likelihood of bonding with another element? Vibration frequency

One does not simply change the chemical composition of tea without understanding the elements at play and how to link up said elements in a way that achieves the desired effect.

It’s more than just a little song and dance number, it has the power to alter the very elements of existence if you know what pitch and intensity to hit.

Raine’s deeper understanding of what makes Bard magic work is what makes them so incredibly powerful, while also finding ways to work around their restricted magic.

[mercy-burning]

Love Thy Neighbor (Christmas Version)

Pairing: Caleb Sullivan x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N stops by to see her neighbor, hoping to spread some holiday cheer. Category: Smut (18+) Content: Religious themes and references/during smut, strong language, blowjob, facesitting, brief mention of death of a parent (in the first paragraph, nothing detailed!) Word Count: 3.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: So I found Trash Fire on DVD at a used movie store, then I got to talking with Pom about a Christmas fic because we were thinking about Caleb, and now this exists. Happy Christmas Eve Eve. Also, this is a continuation of the Halloween fic I did, but you don’t have to have read it to understand this one.

———

Considering her current plan, Y/N finds it ironic that her favorite Christmas song is O Holy Night. It doesn't matter which version, really, but ever since she watched Home Alone two Christmases after her mother died, the song has been a small beacon of light in an otherwise dull and dreary tunnel that only ends when the holiday season does.

Yeah. Christmas is most certainly her least favorite holiday.

It doesn't help that for the past three years her neighbor has been slipping pamphlets and flyers under the door, advertising Christmas church services. It's likely that he did it to everyone in the building, or at least the floor they were on... But she's always thought that it might be some target on her, given how she never gets along with him.

Well... Lately she supposes they get along just fine.

Which is just a nice way of saying he's promptly avoiding her, and has been since she made out with him and grinded in his lap until he came in his pants on Halloween (the least holy of holidays).

In fact, she hadn't even gotten a single piece of paper under her door this year, and Christmas was next week.

Which is why she stands outside his door right now, wrapped in a long coat, hoping he'll provide her a distraction.

Caleb opens the door and his face drops immediately. Usually annoyed at her presence, this time he seems only slightly panicked. But just for a second before he puts on a brave face and pretends to be irritated again.

"Oh. It's you."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

"Did you need something?" He sounds bored, but she picks up on slight hint of hope, most likely that she'll give up, say, "No," and then leave him alone.

But he should know by now, she's more stubborn than that.

"Just felt like dropping by. You haven't left any Church propaganda under my door this year, I thought maybe you died or something."

"Ha," he deadpans. "I just figured it's no use. You wouldn't come anyway, and even if you did you'd probably catch fire the moment you walked in."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, I really did just want to stop over and say Merry Christmas... It's not particularly my favorite time of year, but I know you like it, so I just figured—"

This time his laugh is truly genuine. Caleb looks amused, and when she asks him what's funny, he only shakes his head.

"You're telling me you actually thought of saying something nice to me? Out of the goodness of your heart, even though you're The Grinch?"

"So what if I am?" Her voice is a bit stern now, her body temperature on the rise.

"You hate me!"

"Who says I hate you!"

"Oh, so you think that since you ambushed me in my home and made out with me and I didn't kick you out that everything's all okay? That I'm magically going to just like you? You're even more delusional than I thought."

"Wh—"

"You can't seduce me into liking you! Whatever mind-trick you're trying to play on me, I'm not falling for it."

"You ever think maybe I feel bad for doing that to you?" she asks, taking a step closer. "That I might spend every day thinking I've totally destroyed any chance I had at making you think I'm not really this horrible, shitty person?"

"Why should I believe you?"

"Oh, please! You're telling me you have faith in someone you've never actually seen, but you won't have faith in me?"

The way she says it, her voice nearly breaking and her eyes wide with desperation, makes him take a step back. He studies her for a moment, the air between them thick with this tension he's been trying to ignore since Halloween.

He'd be lying if he said he wished she wouldn't show up with more of her antics, giving him an excuse to stay and fight with her once again, and here he is, getting his wish. Though, he sees something in her that shows less of a game and more sincerity. It's a bit perplexing, but quite honestly a nice change of pace— one that may or may not have his insides growing regrettably warm.

But he doesn't want to do anything about it. Not right now, at least. If she's truly apologizing for what happened and trying to be nice, he should at the very least return the favor.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. "It... was a nice gesture, you coming over like this. I shouldn't have assumed the worst right away."

The way her eyes light back up and a small smirk starts to grow on her lips has him adding on rather quickly, "But to be fair, you don't really give me many reasons not to."

She laughs then, playing with her thumbs. "Yeah, that's... That's fair..."

Maybe Caleb could have ignored the low simmer in his belly at the way her eyes peek out beneath long lashes at him, but she's right there, their friendship (if you can even really call it that) is in a fairly non-lethal place, and if there's any time to fall under her charms, now would certainly be the nicest one.

The smarter part of his brain is telling him to say, "Goodnight," and turn her away on good terms, but the bigger part that's been through three marriages and too many not-so-Christian thoughts about many women in-between (and even during, let's be honest) can't seem to let her go just yet.

So his voice comes out asking her warmly to come inside, and the way she looks at him is suspecting.

"Why, so you can ambush me?" her words are teasing, and so is her tone, but mostly it's teeming with the same warmth that his had held just seconds before.

"Maybe..." he says, and that's when he knows there's no turning back. The look in her eyes is too enticing, too eager for him that it's impossible to turn her away now.

He reaches for her hand and pulls her inside, where the smell of some type of mint attacks her nostrils. It's not peppermint or spearmint, but it's pleasant all the same. The gentle hum of Christmas music acts as a background to the main event, a joyful soundtrack to more sinful activities.

He's more forthcoming this time around, confidently pressing her back to the door as his lips lean into hers and kiss her with purpose. He's less hesitant—less guilty in the moment, she observes—and she likes it. It's in the way he glides his tongue over hers, how his hand expertly unties the front of her coat with no fumbles or frustrations.

She chuckles when the coat finally comes loose and slides down her body, onto the floor at their feet. Caleb pulls away and looks down between them to see what she'd hidden underneath. It calls out to him in the form of green and red lace, glitter, and two small bows that sit pretty on her chest, hardly concealing anything, but enough to quicken his pulse and desire to peel it away.

"Ohhh, you whore..." he grumbles, pressing his forehead to hers and cautiously gliding his hands over her arms.

She laughs, nudging his nose with her own before purring, "You're one to talk... Looks like you fell for it..."

There isn't anything else he can think to do but groan and kiss her out of frustration. It is too late to take it all back, after all, and by this point he'd never get rid of the heat he feels for her even if he did.

She returns his kisses, meeting his tongue with sweet avidity and matching the pressure just perfectly. It's strange, and a little concerning to Caleb, just how well they meld together, like it's what they've always been meant to do. The heat of the moment might just be filling his brain with these blasphemous thoughts, but it feels true as ever, especially as his hips involuntarily press against her own and he welcomes the reaction she has— A whimper and the squeezing of her hands as they sit over the curve of his ass.

They slide up a bit then as her lips break away and travel to the column of his throat. Pretty soon, at the mercy of manicured, nimble fingers, the buckle of his belt is coming undone, and the sound more than anything else is what breaks through his clouded thoughts.

"We... We still can't..."

She sighs over his skin before she kisses him again, her fingers slipping under the band of his pants while she whispers against his mouth, "Loophole."

Ah, yes. His favorite word as of late.

The two of them have only found themselves in a position like this once before, but it's pretty clear now that once is all it takes to catch on to the rules.

Her body shifts downwards, her touch following and leaving a thin blanket of shivers in their wake. As she starts tugging down his pants, he wishes she'd turned them around first, so that he might be able to use the door as an anchor when she inevitably starts to unravel him.

It seems she can guess what he's thinking (because of course she can), a smirk creeping up on her lips. Her face is dangerously close to the bulge in his underwear, her breath hot even through the material. "Stand still for me, okay? Or..." She presses her lips to the tip of his cock through navy fabric, feeling him twitch. "...are you gonna be a naughty boy this year...?"

He decides then that he's going to close his eyes very tightly and just stand there, not even looking down to see her. Otherwise, all it'll do is give her ammunition to tease him, and as fun as that can be, his ego doesn't want to lose. Not now, not again.

So even when she tugs down the final barrier between them and moans deliciously as she licks up the length of him, Caleb stands his ground and crosses his arms over his chest so tightly it feels hard to breathe. He focuses on the harmonies thrumming through the speakers behind him, hoping to find some sort of distraction while his neighbor swirls her tongue over the tip of his cock and holds onto his ankles for leverage.

It works for a little bit, but she must have realized at some point that all she's doing is tasting his dick and merely hoping to break him. He's not even looking down at her. Half the fun of doing this with him is seeing him lose every semblance of control and restraint in his being. Seeing him visibly guilty at the things he's willing to let her get away with.

So she gets messy, opening her mouth all the way and bobbing forward to get him to the back of her throat. Still, without using her hands, she rocks back and forth, bobbing along his length and gagging and moaning to her hearts content. Maybe it's overexaggerated, but that's what she wants. He did call her a whore, after all, so why not play into it?

She looks up at him while holding herself forward, slacking her jaw just as a groan leaves his chest. He's biting his lip so hard, she wonders if he'll draw blood. His skin is flushed, his body stiff and tense, and she knows he's getting closer to breaking.

Her disadvantage comes from lack of words, so she draws away from him and uses her hand to jerk him off while she near-whines, "You don't look like you're having fun..."

His throat moves, but he stands still all the same, refusing to budge.

"Don't you want to open your eyes? To see me sitting pretty while I play with your cock?"

It's not so much the words themselves, but the fact that she's talking at all, spewing filth like it’s second nature. He supposes that's been her plan the whole time, but at this point he's too wound up to care, too frustrated at the lack of attention she's giving the sensitive tip of him. The sooner he gets off, the sooner they can move on, and so he huffs, opens his eyes, and looks down at her.

The smile he expects to appear on her face never comes. Instead, she hums with approval and blinks up at him, removing her hand and taking him in her mouth again. Only this time, her lips carefully attach to just the tip of him. She bats her eyelashes and flicks her tongue along the slit, almost like she's egging him on, encouraging him to take control.

The word loophole replays in his mind, and in an instant, his arms go uncrossed and he falls forward, reaching out to rest his hands on the door. Subsequently, Y/N gets a throat-full of his cock, and she chokes, moving her head back only slightly to catch her breath. But she's obviously pleased with this move, because she continues blowing him with short, concise movements that have him hitting the back of her throat nearly every time.

By now Caleb's lost all control, grunting out as his stomach tenses and his knuckles go white. He comes sharply, and the woman on her knees takes it all down, moaning contentedly and trailing her fingers kindly along the inside of his thighs as if to say, "Atta boy..."

As soon as he's given it all he has, he pulls back and goes for his pants, quietly getting re-dressed and avoiding his neighbor's eyes.

She grins, though, getting up off her knees and sliding her panties down her legs in one swift motion.

"Tell me... What's your favorite prayer?"

Still high off the rush of endorphins to his brain, Caleb raises a lazy eyebrow. "What?"

She takes a few slow steps toward him, stepping out of the undergarment as she goes along. "Your favorite prayer... Would you mind reciting it for me?" Her hand snakes over his chest and lands on his shoulder, putting a little pressure on it as she tilts her head up to meet his gaze. "On your knees?"

His eyes widen at her request, knowing full well what she's about to do. It should disgust him, send him into a scolding as he kicks her out of his apartment and threatens to call the police if she bothers him again. It should anger him to the depths of his very being, and yet, all he can think to do is obey, dropping slowly to his knees and looking up at her with all the desire he's ever harbored in his whole God-given life.

Y/N's finger comes down and tilts his chin up, adjusting his face so she can get to him at a good angle, and he swallows.

"Pray for me, baby..."

She only lets him get out a couple words, a hushed and shaky, "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..." before raking her fingers through his hair and sliding herself over his mouth.

His lips are moving just barely, like they're afraid to betray him and get distracted by the fruit at their surface. Luckily though, she's counted on this. So she keeps the grip in his hair steady as she rolls her hips and moves of her own accord. She's pleased him, and now she's going to please herself, getting off not only on the friction beneath her but on the notion that he's completely at her mercy, probably questioning just about everything there is to question.

Tiny groans and whimpers escape her the longer she moves, and as far as she can tell, his lips are still moving. Whether he's actually still praying or not is beyond her, but he hasn't pushed her off or tried to stop it from happening, so she couldn't really care either way. All she knows for sure is that his tongue will dart out from time to time, catching on her clit, and it brings her closer to the edge every time.

Her ministrations get more frantic the nearer orgasm approaches, and by now her curses and cries are drowning out anything he may be saying. She can't even hear the Christmas music anymore, only the sound of her own voice calling out to Caleb, praising him for being nothing but a vessel for her own pleasure.

A low groan sounds from beneath her as she comes, making her smile as she calls out his name in the most devilish way possible.

And then she's loosening the grip in his hair and he's retreating quickly, leaning his body and falling back on his hands.

She looks down at him with a satisfied grin, stepping back and taking in the image of his heaving chest, blown brown eyes, and a small dark patch on the front of his pants.

"Ahh," she drawls with a laugh. "So that's what that sound was... Did I make you come again?"

He'd find a way to tell her to stop asking questions she obviously already knows the answer to, to tell her he doesn't appreciate her making a fool of him, but for one thing, he's lost the fight in him, and for another, she already has.

The worst part is that he doesn't even feel anger. All he knows is the taste of her cunt on his tongue and the warmth of his lust blooming through his lower half. Maybe after the high has worn off he'll come to his senses, but this isn't even like the last time. Now he knows he's well and truly fucked. Would God even begin to know how to save him now?

Probably not. If He had, perhaps Caleb would have had the strength to resist her in the first place.

In another show of irritating kindness, she reaches her hand out to help him off the floor, and in turn he grabs her coat on the way up with the other. She grabs it with a smile, throwing it on and tying it tightly around her waist.

"I did mean it, you know," she says with a shrug. "This time of year always sucks for me, but... It was nice knowing someone still cared enough to leave me a pamphlet or two."

"Yeah, well... I only ever did it to annoy you..." he admits lightly.

Her laugh is bright and joyful, and he hates that he likes it. "Yeah, I know... But that's what I mean. I've grown to love that you care about me enough to wanna annoy me."

It could be the word "love," or perhaps even just the genuine smile on her face as she confesses this to him, but... God if it doesn't make his heart race.

What the fuck is this? he thinks as she turns to leave.

Before she does, though, she turns around, winking at him. "Don't ever stop."

The soft click of the door as she leaves him alone is what finally gets Caleb to take a proper breath, but the sight of her underwear still laying there—bright white in contrast with the dark wooden boards beneath it—nearly takes it away again.

He's going to have to throw them out.

Or burn them...

But for now, on the off-chance that his provocative across-the-hall neighbor might stop by and ask for them back, most likely resulting in another rendezvous, he decides to tuck them away in the top drawer of his dresser, right next to his Bible, where his favorite prayer is written on the front inside cover in red ink.

And coincidently, it isn't the one he tried (and failed) to recite earlier when she asked.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

———

TAGLIST: (tags not working are struck out)

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @mrsobrien888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @big-galaxy-chaos @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspenceraredilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[maideninorange]

58, your choice of characters? curious to see what youd write!

#58 "The person you knew died long ago."

Took me a moment to think of what to do for this one! I decided this ought to be a good excuse to pull one of my old KuroTsuba ideas out of storage, and had lots of fun with it. I think you'll enjoy it!

(TW: This one gets violent. Nothing too terrible, but it is about on the same level as my prior fic "Inhuman" (which had way too much fun with its minor character death, the resulting corpses, and, well, inhuman mindsets). There's also a little self-loathing and touch starvation near the end. Disturbing content ahead!)

Tsubakura skulks in the shadows, observing their prey with a prying eye. Humans don't typically come into their part of the forest, so they don't get to test their traps too often.

Making and putting them into use were one of the few forms of joy still available to them. So they are always excited to have an excuse to perform a trial run or two.

The human looks over at where they are, but it does them no good. Ink is the same pitch black as the shadows in this part of Mugenri they carved out for themself, and ink is like a second skin to them now. Swallows never liked to be seen by human eyes anyway.

They step closer. And closer. Until a light breeze would push them into the puddle of ink set up beneath their feet. They haven't had a chance to experiment with their control over pocket dimensions in a while, so they were excited to finally have something that wasn't a boring animal or another youkai they had to let go.

Now all that human has to do is fall in. They're sick of waiting around, and wanted to get to their experiment with subzero temperatures already.

A sudden spurt of blood from the wheezing human's throat, accompanied by a hoarse scream, put an end to their fantasizing. The human crumples to the ground, twitches for a moment longer, then stills, lifeless. The trap never springs.

What?! How?! They were right fucking there!!! I was so close!!!

A small shadow emerges out of the corner of their right eye. They bite back a low growl. Another youkai just stole their kill right out from under their nose!

Looks like they'll have to deal with them the hard way.

Tsubakura steps out of the shadows, steps a little shaky after resolidifying themself. They place a taloned hand over the puddle of ink and shift the portal into a longsword. They give it a practice swing (confirming it was solid as well) as they scan their surroundings.

The other youkai is gonna have to go through them if they want their kill. And no, Tsubakura didn't care if they saw their trap or not; they killed what was supposed to be their prey, and now they must deal with them if they want it. That was simply how they operate, ever since becoming a youkai and being forced to survive on their lonesome.

(They weren't always alone though. Like when they were human. They haven't seen Yabusame in decades.)

...Where did that other youkai go any-

Fwang!

Tsubakura's back lit on fire, ignited by unseen danmaku. They let out a startled cry, and then the ground tumbled towards them. On instinct, they dropped into a roll. Pain blows through their wings as they absorb the impact, breaking their fall. It felt like they tore a ligament or two on them...

Then, Tsubakura was standing again, wings flared out. The wound has already almost finished healing, nanomachines working in conjunction with their natural magic as a youkai to make a speedy process lightning fast. Besides the singes and knives sticking out of their back, they weren't even disheveled. Only their hat a little askew.

"Playing dirty already, huh?" They call out, "Scared of facin' little old me?"

Zing!

More danmaku whizzes through behind them. But this time, Tsubakura was ready. They calmly sidestepped the danmaku knife as it flies at them, frayed black hair ruffled by its motion as it slots into a tree. They will not be caught off guard by the same predictable trick twice.

Although that handle, even as it disintegrates back into mana, is eerily familiar...Where have they seen such a purple hue on one before?

(That was a century or two ago, wasn't it? Before they changed and the Tsubakura Enraku the world knew died and left their current self in their place. That felt so long ago...)

Another knife breezes by their ear. Tsubakura sneaks a glance behind themself, sword at the ready to swing down.

Nobody was behind them.

They whirl around once more, jaw starting to hurt from how hard they were gritting their teeth. Already, a new layer of danmaku was weaved, without a single spell card being declared yet. Damn it, their new opponent was good. If it weren't for their burning desire to steal back their kill, it would be almost kinda fun.

And then, the danmaku flips over, trajectory reversed. That, Tsubakura wasn't expecting.

They slash through the onslaught wildly, their nanomachines firing their signature magic ink in every which direction. But all their frenzy does is leave them wide open to a different form of attack.

The moment they turn around to better shield their face, something blunt collides with their lower jaw.

"Gah!"

Tsubakura stumbles back, dazed. They attempt to swing their sword again, but then their opponent is right behind them, their arm wretched painfully behind their back and their sword foisted from their grasp. Disarmed and helpless.

"Unfortunately for you, I prefer to play dirty tricks first," a smarmy voice sneers in their ear, "Then again, a trap like that is quite the dirty trick for your human 'prey', no?"

A very, very familiar smarmy voice in fact...

"Not the type to play fair either, huh?" Tsubakura snarks, rolling their shoulders back best they can, "That's fine. Keeps things interesting."

"Oh? And what could you ever mean by that?" They ask.

"Something like this."

Tsubakura closes their eyes, and relaxes their molecules until they were ink. They relish in how they slip through the other's fingers like grains of sand, and the stunned shout of realization after.

Then, Tsubakura retakes human shape behind them, and in a blur of movement, their opponent was pinned beneath their body weight. Their long, tapered wings cage them in, keeping the pair of small grey and brown wings they just now noticed protruding from their back still.

Finally. They think as they resummon their longsword. This oughta teach you for thinking you can steal my kills.

Their opponent tenses uncomfortably as they bring the sword closer and closer to their throat. Tsubakura gets their first good look at their face.

The world stops.

They...They know their opponent. They knew their opponent very well in fact. They may have a monocle covering a foggy eye now, but that crooked smirk is unmistakable.

"...Kuroji?"

They perk up at the name, eyes widening as they scan their face for any sign of a joke.

They recognize them.

"Tsu... Tsubakura? Is that really you?" Kuroji croaks out.

Tsubakura's grip goes slack. It was them. It was them. After so long with only themself for company, it was really them, someone they knew in a previous life.

"...Yes. Though I am not the same person you once knew."

Their longsword slides out of their grasp. They flash a wobbly smile as they stand, "The person you knew died long ago."

"Ah...You met with the same fate?" Kuroji groans as they try to sit up, their wings unfurling to match Tsubakura's body language, "That's...to be expected then. The Shitodo Kuroji you knew from before is long gone as well."

Their smile turns wry as they extend a hand, "Well duh! You'd be long dead by now if you didn't go youkai too. Human lifespans suck."

Kuroji lets out a shallow sigh, rolling their eyes as they take their hand, "Considering that you seem to have taken to youkai depravity like a fish to water, that opinion doesn't surprise me. You never did quite know how to quit when you actually started something..."

Tsubakura pulls them up onto their feet, a little off kilter due to a weird glitch in weight. They were about to jab in turn at their scoundrelry, when they suddenly noticed something out of place.

The fingers that curled around theirs were metallic. A prosthetic.

"...You must've been quite busy to have lost your arm there. What happened? Shouldn't you have regenerated it since you're a youkai too now?"

Kuroji glances down at their prosthetic arm. Their smile fades. The blending of flesh into metal was jagged and uneven, not the smooth roundedness of most robotic arms back in the Outside World. That couldn't have been done by mere disease.

"Oh...this," Their voice hardens as their hand curls into a fist at their side, "Let's just say...Adagumo no Yaorochi can be very, very creative when angered enough to decide ripping you to shreds is too light of a punishment and has a little extra...help, and leave it at that."

Translation: "I don't want to talk about this right now."

And considering the glint of serpentine fangs instead of merely sharp canines as they grit their teeth and how their tail thrashes like its prehensile instead of fanning its feathers out like their own does when anxious, Tsubakura can hazard a pretty good guess as to what happened. As well as how Kuroji became like this in the first place.

"...You know, I can always try and fix your arm up if you wanna. Just like old times?"

Kuroji looks up at the starry sky, tilting their monocle forward. The eye behind it gazes at nothing.

"...I'll be fine. It's an old injury, and a good tool for pity points when you're trying to stir the heartstrings. I'm too used to the prosthetic anyway."

Tsubakura let a small smile grace their features at that, their wings wrapping around their frame comfortably in spite of their permanent inkstains.

The Kuroji Shitodo Tsubakura knew may be long dead, but Kuroji's wicked ways clearly still live on. In a different form, perhaps, but still there. Experience must have taught them that the hard way. Brutally.

It's still probably better than what got Tsubakura like this to begin with though. Anything would be probably be better after days of continuous torture by that maniac...

(They can still hear their screams as they tore them apart like a majestic symphony. It is only marred by Yabusame's shrieking of their name.)

Their smile vanishes at the awful memories.

"...Just as awful as ever, I see."

"Kinda have to be when you need to kill to survive. At least I have the decency to not toy with my food..."

They give the forgotten corpse near their feet an accusatory look. Not directed at the taken life from the person it once was, but indirectly at Tsubakura themself.

As if subtly asking, "What lead you to making death traps for your former species? What happened to your humanity, in both senses of the word?"

And honestly, Tsubakura wasn't quite sure of the answer themself. All they knew is that this was their life now, with all its boredom punctuated by periods of misery and small bouts of excitement like this. What do a few lives lost to the occasional entertaining death trap mean in the long run?

Didn't Kuroji do the same thing? Why did they sound so...bothered by it?

Tsubakura takes a quick step back, "Oh relax. My traps don't get too many humans. More likely to catch a squirrel than a sentient being. I mostly just sleep and make sure no one comes near my main base. Going after people when I can just drink ink is too much effort."

Kuroji directs their stare at them full on now. Any brief amusement or nostalgia is long gone now, replaced with a gaze that could pierce glass. (And for all they knew, it probably could. A lot can happen to someone in a measly century, especially someone like Kuroji.)

"...So that's all you've been doing this past century then? Just... Surviving out in the woods like a perpetually bored wild animal? I thought that if I ever saw you again, you'd be doing more than just...Surviving."

Tsubakura blinks, caught off guard, "Hwah?"

They could just feel Kuroji's disappointment bleeding through their harsh tone, "I mean, after our last meeting, you just...vanished. I thought you had died. Died! And all this time, you were out here in the middle of nowhere, where no one would ever find you, and you were just... surviving by the skin of your teeth?"

"Well...I guess? I mean, what else am I supposed to do? Can't go back to the Sanctuary when Whats-Their-Name the Priest will just kill me for being a priest who became a youkai. Not to mention most people in Mugenri already hate me for being a shitty priest when I was human. So why bother being anything more than that?"

They tactically avoid bringing up Yabusame. They don't wish to talk about them, even if their absence is never unnoticed by them.

"...It seems having only yourself for company has done a number on your mind, Tsubakura," Kuroji says coldly. They cock their head, the only parts of them moving being their fanned out wings and tail.

"Let me ask you again more directly then: Where have you been all these years?! The last time I saw you was you telling me not to come looking for you because Tsurubami Senri was out for your head! That was 200 years ago! And counting! Did you think that I just forgot about you?! Because I haven't! I never have!"

It all spills out of them. Tsubakura can only listen, their face growing paler and paler as Kuroji's rant goes on.

"You haven't left my mind once you disappeared, you know? Even after I accepted you were probably dead, even after I... became what I am now, I never stopped thinking about you!"

They choke, tears gathering in their eyes, "Have you thought about me while you were out here haunting this forest? Even once? Have you?!"

Tsubakura stood, motionless. Motionless, except for the shakes and shudders that ran throughout their body.

200 years was a long, long time to reflect on one's prior actions. Especially when you didn't start life as a monster. (Because what else can you call someone like them, who felt no remorse for setting death traps on the unsuspecting, animal, human, or youkai?) And sure enough, during the long bouts of nothing happening, Tsubakura got lost in their memories.

And as memories bled into thoughts and thoughts bled into longings, Tsubakura had brainstormed many, many long excuses and explanations for what happened to them. If it wasn't to Yabusame or Shion as they haunt their dreams, it was to Kuroji. They had rehearsed countless times in both sunlight and moonlight in their more animated intervals what they might say to any of the characters they've become in their head, all while scorning the fact that they might never get the chance to.

They had forgotten that "might" did not mean the same thing as "will" until now. And now that Kuroji stood in front of them, baring the same marks of inhumanity and immortality they did, all the explanations they had committed to memory for them specifically had suddenly vanished.

In the end, as the tears began to fall from the wrong conclusion forming in their mind, all Tsubakura can do is nod, "...Yes. Countless times in fact."

"...You're probably just lying in order to spare my feelings. Or save your worthless hide. Or both. No one could ever tell with you..." Kuroji hisses, their talons flexing, wounded, at their side.

"Yes. Fuck, Kuroji, yes! I thought about you so many times it hurts...Yes...I remember you, yes..." Tsubakura mumbles, their mantra bouncing about not to convince Kuroji of their honesty (they wouldn't fight if they decided to leave or make them pay for all the needless heartache), but more to answer the question repeating on loop since Kuroji asked them it.

"Have you been thinking about me?" Yes. "Is this really all you've been doing with your immortality?" Yes. "Do you regret everything that lead you to this?" Yes. Yes. Yes!!!

Tsubakura looks down at their nails, sharpened into the claw-like talons of most youkai. They cannot go back. Once a human has taken the fatal step over the line between humanity and inhumanity, they cannot step back. Their sight blurs.

All they want to do is go back. Go back in time, to the idle days of lounging about the shrine with Yabusame, getting lectured by Jinbei, and even get their soul munched on by Shion. They'd even be willing to go further back, to the suffocating days of scientific experiments with Hoojiro where nothing mattered beyond their next paycheck and having fun with friends like Kuroji, in their own odd sense.

They cannot go back. They want to go back.

"...Tsubakura?"

"Yes...Yes..."

Kuroji grows taller. Then, they were in front of them, all accusations and anger gone. It took Tsubakura long, agonizing seconds to realize they were crying. For the first time since leaving the Sanctuary in exile, for the first time after Yabusame vanished without a trace, they were crying.

"I missed you, Kuroji. You...You may be a pain in the ass, but..."

"I missed you too, in case you haven't noticed." A bitter chuckle, and then an equally bitter long sigh, "I spent so long thinking about what I'd do if I ever saw you again that I...I lost my temper there when I realized..."

"Apology accepted. I'd be pretty pissed if I was confronted with me too."

Kuroji kneels down until they were eye level with Tsubakura. Then, their wings wrapped around them without resistance. The touch of feathers against their scales was so foreign it made them shudder, but they welcomed it all the same.

(They missed this. They missed Yabusame's big, tight, drawn out hugs. Funny how the things they found annoying as a human they now craved as a youkai...)

"You've been through a lot too, haven't you?" Their tone softens, all of the ice in it melted, "So much so that even Yabusame is no longer with you..."

"Where is Yabusame?" They ask in that cryptic language of theirs.

"I dunno...I dunno anymore..." Tsubakura sniffles, "So-Sorry for dyin' on ya...I know I'm quite pathetic..."

Translation: "I don't want to talk about this right now."

Hands cup the back of their head, leaning them against Kuroji's warm chest. Tsubakura tenses as they push their hat back, stroking their hair. They wanted to stroke Kuroji's locks as well, but their shaky hand is caught as they reach out to do just that.

"Save that and the self-deprecation for later. Just this once, I'll do this for you for free. We both need this..."

Message received.

Tsubakura didn't know how long they were in Kuroji's arms for. Just that they were crying, they were crying as well, they craved the affection so much it hurt, and that they wanted to do nothing more than curl up on their couch with a warm bowl of miso soup and debate philosophy and science with them just like they used to 200 years ago.

"I missed you so much...Tsubakura..." Kuroji murmurs against their ear. Their name rolls off their tongue like they might vanish as soon as the last syllable ends.

"...Missed ya too, hardass..."

They stayed that way for a few moments longer. When they parted, coldness seeped into the warmth that was once Kuroji against their flesh. Their mechanical arm makes a notable click as they press weight on it in order to stand up.

"We...have a lot of catching up to do."

"No kidding," Tsubakura agrees as they push themself to their feet, a few sniffles still left in their system, "You still haven't told me what you've been up to. Like, how do you even live as a youkai? Of all the people to go youkai on me, you were pretty much dead last on that list."

They turn away, "I...Have my ways."

Vague and diverting. At least Kuroji still talks like Kuroji.

"Oh come on! I just cried my eyes out to you after spilling my methods. Can't do the same for me?"

"You are the only person in this entire world who can bounce back by being a thorn in my side..."

"It's how I live with myself. I'd die if I didn't."

"Die again, you mean? You said the prior you was dead, didn't you?"

"You knew what I meant!"

Kuroji snickers, almost hiding the tremors that accompany their next words, "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I wish to show you."

They step towards the way they came in, onto the path that a single diversion from caused them to reunite. They'd laugh at the coincidence of that if they weren't so captivating by Kuroji's next words:

"Come. Come stay the night at my place."

"Just like old times?"

"Just like old times," they smile. Not smirk, but actually smile a little, "It's just that I'd rather not discuss myself in the middle of the woods with a corpse not even a meter from us."

Tsubakura glanced at the long forgotten cadaver in question, sheepish, "Oh yeah. I forgot we killed that guy for a moment there."

"I killed that guy. It was probably a better death than whatever you had in store for them anyway."

"They'd probably still be alive if they fell into my trap. At least, until I start trying to experiment with absolute zero again."

"And I see you never moved past human experimentation. The only difference becoming a youkai did to you was give you a convenient excuse and reputation to do it more."

"You know me so well! Although robbing people of all their worth and then devouring them whole isn't much better, ya know."

Kuroji falters for a flash, then rolls their eyes, "Be glad I'm not in the mood to cut out your tongue for that."

"Ooh! Brutal! I'm so scared," Tsubakura placed a melodramatic hand over their chest, "It's not like my tongue won't grow back in three days and eighteen hours if ya do or anything."

"Do I even...No, I do not." Kuroji runs a hand through their hair, "So are we sharing it or not?"

Tsubakura spares it another glance. Right now, they couldn't want anything more than for Kuroji to make a nice stew with the meat and for them to enjoy their kill together. Not exactly like old times, but not exactly unwelcome either.

They conjure up the very ink portal they wished to use as a death trap beneath the dead body. It sinks into the pocket dimension with ease.

Kuroji watches on. They seem to already know their answer as they step onto the path. It will go out of the forest and to wherever their current home is.

And that's just under the assumption they'll walk there. Tsubakura hasn't flown in a while. Their wings were aching for some time in the air.

They smile as they step onto the path besides Kuroji. It has been a couple centuries since there was a notable pep in their step. Kuroji just so happened to be on the very short list of people they want to see that.

"I would like nothing more."