#LED Display Video Controller | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eremikayearner · 5 months ago

Text

play with me ‹𝟹 nagi seishiro

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which nagi seishiro finally manages to get you to play his video games with him.

ׂ╰┈➤ suggestive, nagi being unintentionally cute

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ swinging open the door to your boyfriend’s apartment, you entered with a content sigh, shutting the door behind you and placing your tote bag down. after hanging out with your friends you’d promised your pouty white haired boyfriend you’d come over right after.

for all nagi’s supposed laziness, he actually adored your company and presence like no other. it was the little things he did. carrying you on his back the moment you said you were tired, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands holding your thighs. it was the way he liked helping you with your hair and weaving all sorts of bows into it before an event. what was super uncharacteristic however, is how he actually liked doing activities with you. whether that was baking cookies, taking you shopping or even going on dates with you (reo had been shocked to hear that nagi willingly participated in all these).

“seishiro!” you called, as if luring a kitten out of hiding. you blinked when he didn’t reveal himself, per usual. “sei?”

yet he was nowhere to be found in his living room or kitchen at all.

that meant only one thing and one thing only.

walking past his kitchen and living room, you approached the door to his room which was already halfway open. you poked your head inside his room, currently illuminated with the faint glow of his soft pink and lavender led lights. of course, there he was. leaning forward in his monochrome gaming chair in front of his pc with his white headphones on top of his soft hair with his fingers moving incredibly fast on his bedazzled console.

“hi, sei.” you said, a soft smile on your lips.

somehow, he always managed to hear you despite the headphones he wore. “hi, angel.”

he didn’t turn to look at you however, his eyes glued to the screen and his fingers tapping furiously on the controls of the console.

this also meant only one thing. “oh, you’re gaming. ranked?”

“mhm.” he hummed.

see, you didn’t mind nagi’s gaming addiction. you actually didn’t mind watching him game either, just the same as you didn’t mind watching his soccer games and practices. you actually loved it. seeing him so intense and focused on something was fascinating. the nagi seishiro putting in a lot of effort into something was always a sight to behold.

however, when he played his ranked games it was nearly impossible to get him off the game. really, it was.

you sighed, smoothing your baby pink skirt out. “i thought we’d be hanging out but that’s fine.”

you’d entertain yourself in other ways while he played. you began thinking about what you could bake in the meantime, just about to turn to head to the kitchen when nagi spoke.

“play with me.” nagi said, eyes still glued to his screen.

this wasn’t the first time he’d asked you this of course. nagi, believe it or not, was clingy. he was always touching you, following you around like a lost puppy and even talking about you constantly (reo was also shocked by how much he talked about you since nagi claimed using his voice and opening his mouth was a hassle). so it was only natural for him to want to spend time with you doing his favourite (only) hobby.

however, you were terrible at gaming. and you’d never want to mess up nagi’s ranks, something that was somewhat important to him.

“sei, i’m not good at playing-”

pushing himself back from his desk, all long limbs on display, as he lifted his headphones off his head and left them around his neck. he turned in his chair, a long fingered hand resting on his thigh as he lifted two fingers to beckon you closer. “just c’mere.”

your cheeks flushed pink as you walked towards him.

yes, he was your boyfriend but that didn’t mean you would ever get used to how pretty he was. nagi didn’t really seem to be aware of how attractive he was. it was so clear with his obvious pretty face, his soft snowy hair that fell on his brow like a halo and his perfectly sculpted body, and oh god, his height. not to mention those pretty fawn eyes of his could turn alluring in just mere seconds. yet nagi couldn’t be more clueless when it came to recognizing his own attractiveness.

as you approached him, he leaned back in his chair, his hazy eyes following your every move, lingering on your pink skirt as you stopped right in front of him, unsure of what he wanted now.

then he leaned forward, his large hands wrapping around your waist as he lifted you up with ease, gripping your body as if you were as light as a doll, and placing you on his lap. You felt the hard muscles of his thighs beneath his grey sweatpants pressing against your exposed soft skin and the hard muscle of his chest up against your back.

your breath hitched as your body seemed to flush all over from his touch.

“sei? seishiro, what games are you playing at?” you asked, attempting to hide the flustered higher tone of your voice.

“nothing. jus‘ wanna play with you.” nagi murmured in his soft voice, his strong arms wrapping around your frame and placing his pink clad controller that you had decorated yourself, in your smaller hands.

“but it’s a ranked game!” you exclaimed, desperately trying to keep your rapidly beating heart in control as you felt nagi’s warmth and strength envelop you. his large fingers went over yours, finding the correct buttons on his controller. “i don’t wanna mess up your win streak.”

“don’t worry, angel.” he said, and the pet name nearly made you melt into a flustered puddle in his lap. his eyes drifted to your blushing face and your glossed lip between your teeth nervously. the smallest of smirks lifted his lips. “i’ll make sure we win.”

you weren’t sure how long you’d been playing, with nagi’s voice in your ear feeding you instructions, encouragement and praise as you both laser focused in on each game. his fingers moved yours rapidly and he muttered soft curses at every shot taken. however, it seemed that the two of you made an excellent team.

your fingers began to ache, and after possibly the seventh game you’d won, you sighed and slumped back against nagi’s chest.

he looked down at you in his arms, a small grin on his face, triumphant that he’d finally gotten you to play with him. “winning sure feels good, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh.” your voice came out breathier than usual. “tiring too.”

nagi smiled to himself as he looked down at you. “you know what else can make you feel good?”

in an instant, his strong hands had found your waist again and lifted you up from the chair with him, then he wrapped his forearms around your body and carried you to the bed, pressing playful kisses as you giggled in his arms.

#ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊ eremikayearner #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x you #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi x y/n #nagi seishiro x y/n #nagi seishiro fluff #seishiro nagi fluff #bllk nagi #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #manshine pretty boys

500 notes · View notes

gerlionrise · 6 months ago

Text

A Game Within the Game P4

Hwang In-ho ( The Frontman ) x reader Synopsis: In-ho wants you to kill the guard, shows you his world and asks for the last demand. AN: this one turned out long but it's worth it. Enjoy. The next part will be the last one so if you want to be tagged - let me know! + I will post a prologue to this story - how the reader and 001 met during the games and how their (your) relationship were building up. This is part 4. All parts are here.

In-ho led you through the winding corridors with an air of quiet authority, his hand lightly grazing your back as he guided you. The touch sent an unwanted spark up your spine, but you pushed it down. You were angry, furious even, but the man’s presence was magnetic, and you hated yourself for noticing it.

The room he brought you to was dimly lit, glowing with the eerie light of dozens of screens and monitors. A hum of machinery filled the space, punctuated by the occasional beep or crackle from the speakers. The control room.

"This," In-ho said, his voice calm but tinged with something deeper, "is where it all happens. Every decision. Every outcome. Every life and death."

He gestured to the wall of screens, each displaying a live or archived feed from various parts of the compound. You recognized the dormitory where players once slept, the fields where games were played, even the corridors you’d walked down to get here.

You folded your arms, doing your best to look unimpressed. "So this is your throne room. Where you play god."

In-ho remained serious. "You see it as cruelty. I see it as… balance."

He walked over to a sleek black console and tapped a few keys. One of the screens flickered, shifting to a video. It showed a group of players—dressed in those now-familiar green tracksuits—huddled in a corner, whispering. The audio was muffled, but In-ho adjusted it until their words were clear.

"If we kill them during the next game no one will notice," one man hissed, his eyes darting nervously.

"It’s survival,” another added.

You stared at the screen, unable to tear your eyes away as the next scene played out. The group attacked another group during the game, their movements frantic and violent. The victim’s cries echoed in the control room before fading into silence.

In-ho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. "This is what I see. Time and time again. People who claim they deserve better, who say they’re victims of circumstance, showing their true colors."

You swallowed hard, your anger faltering for a moment. "That doesn’t justify what you do. You put them in that situation. You made it worse."

"And yet," he countered, "they made their choices. Tell me, do you think they were innocent?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He showed you more—clips from past games, players betraying one another, alliances dissolving into chaos, greed and desperation painted across every screen. Hours passed, the weight of what you were seeing settling heavily in your chest.

Finally, you leaned back in your chair, “You can stop it," crossing your legs and fixing him with a sharp look you continued, “Let’s play a game of my own."

In-ho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your game?"

"One question a day," you explained, "you answer it honestly, and I’ll do whatever one thing you want. One question — one command.”

His lips curved into a sly smile. "Whatever I want?"

You nodded.

He considered your proposal, the silence stretching between you. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he agreed. "Deal. What’s your first question?"

"How did you become the host?"

His smile faded, replaced by something more somber. He leaned against the console and took a moment before answering. "I was a player once. Years ago. I won."

The words hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected. You studied his face, trying to read between the lines. "And then?"

"Then I was given an offer," he continued, his tone flat. "To become the host. To oversee the games instead of participating. I said yes."

"Why did you play in the first place?" you pressed.

His gaze sharpened, and he shook his head. "That’s a question for another day."

You rolled your eyes but let it go. "Fine. So, what do you want me to do today?"

He straightened, his demeanor shifting back to that calm control.

"I want to show you something else."

You frowned, skeptical. "Another room full of screens?"

"Not quite," he said, his lips quirking in that faint smile again.

—

In-ho led you into another room, the air heavy with a suffocating stillness. It looked like a military command center, with dark walls and sparse furniture. Standing rigidly in the middle of the room was a pink-suited guard with a triangle mask. You froze the moment you saw him, your chest tightening with anger and something darker—fear.

“This,” In-ho said calmly, gesturing to the guard, “is the one who shot you that day.”

Your body tensed immediately, the ache in your side flaring as if in memory of the gunshot. The wound wasn’t fully healed, and every throb served as a cruel reminder.

“You brought me here for this?” you hissed, glaring at In-ho.

He ignored your outburst, his tone steady and dispassionate as he continued. “This guard also killed players 333, 120, 034, 036, 234, 283, 012, 99, 101, 292... and at least ten others.”

The numbers fell like stones into a deep, cold well inside you. You recognized some of them. Faces of people you’d spoken to, laughed with, cried with. Players you’d trusted. Your friends.

Your anger boiled over, a rage that was as much for them as it was for yourself. “Did he shot me as a part of your plan too?”

In-ho remained composed, “No. That’s why you’re standing here now. But the guard violated the rules of the game — they all had a command not to shoot at you.” His eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling calm.

The guard didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but you swore you could feel the weight of his gaze behind the mask. It only made your fury grow.

In-ho extended his hand, and you turned to see him holding a gun. “If you want vengeance,” he said, his voice eerily soft, “here’s your chance. I won’t stop you.”

You stared at the gun, then at the guard. Your hand hovered hesitantly before finally grasping the cold metal. The weight of it in your palm felt foreign, but your grip tightened instinctively.

“You want me to kill him?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“Or her. And like I said — I wouldn’t mind,” In-ho replied, his tone as manipulative as ever. “After all, this guard taken quite a lot from you.”

Your fingers hovered over the trigger as you raised the gun. The barrel pointed directly at the guard’s chest. The idea of pulling the trigger sent adrenaline coursing through your veins. You wanted justice. You wanted retribution.

But then it hit you — this was another one of In-ho’s games. He was watching, testing you, manipulating you.

Instead of firing at the guard, you turned abruptly, swinging the gun toward In-ho. His expression didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. He simply watched you with the same maddening calm, like he knew you wouldn’t do it.

"If you want vengeance?" you repeated his words. "You just want me to punish the person who broke the rules of your game the same way you do it. I’m not your puppet,” you spat, glaring at him. “You won't turn me into yourself.”

In-ho tilted his head a little bit irritated, "You're smart." He glared at the gun pointed at him, “That's why you won’t pull a trigger.”

You knew he was right. Shooting him would mean your own death seconds later. And deep down, you weren’t sure you could do it.

He stepped closer, gently pressing down on the barrel of the gun until it pointed at the floor. “That’s enough for today,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to kill the guard if you don’t want to.”

You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him. “So that’s it? You’re not going to make me shoot him?”

“No,” he said simply, turning toward the door. “You should go back to your room. It’s late.”

The guard remained motionless. ---

The walk back to your bedroom was tense, the silence between you heavy. When you stepped inside, you turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively.

“What now? Another lecture about how I owe you my life?” you asked, your tone sharp.

In-ho’s gaze darkened slightly. “You do owe me something. Remember our game?”

You raised an eyebrow, the sass in your voice unmistakable. “What, your command is to fuck with you? Is that what you’ve wanted all this time?”

In-ho’s calm demeanor remained still, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s not what this is about,” he said coolly.

“Then what?” you challenged.

He reached into a small black bag and pulled out a worn paperback book, handing it to you. “You’re going to read this.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “A book? Seriously?”

“Animal Farm by George Orwell,” he said, ignoring your incredulous tone. “It's small, you’ll read it tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll ask you questions about it.”

You stared at the book, then back at him, incredulous. “That’s your big demand? What’s the point of this?”

“The point,” he said, stepping closer, his voice quieter but no less firm, “is to see if you’re capable of understanding the world as it really is. Of seeing why I do what I do.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the book from his hand. “Fine. But don’t expect me to agree with you just because of some stupid book.”

In-ho smirked faintly, already turning to leave. “Of course.”

As the door closed behind him, you sat on the bed, the book heavy in your hands. You didn’t know what game he was playing now, but you weren’t about to lose.

—

The next morning, you walked into the kitchen, rubbing your still-sore side absentmindedly. The smell of fresh coffee and something savory greeted you, and there, at the sleek black table, sat In-ho. He was already halfway through his breakfast, his posture relaxed but undeniably commanding. His black shirt clung to him just right, making it hard to look away.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his tone even, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of warmth.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over to the counter, grabbing a cup of coffee. “What are you eating?” you asked, gesturing to his plate as you stood across from him.

“Eggs,” he said simply. “Want some?”

“I’ll survive,” you quipped, sipping your coffee. “But thanks for the offer, chef.”

His lips twitched, amused by your sass.

The conversation turned casual, almost playful. For a moment, it felt... normal. A stolen slice of humanity in this surreal nightmare you found yourself trapped in. But, of course, In-ho couldn’t leave it at that.

“So,” he started, his tone shifting slightly as he set down his fork. “Tell me, what did you think of the book?”

You shrugged, already sensing where this was going. “It was... fine. Kind of depressing, though.”

“That’s the point,” he replied smoothly. “The greed of livings, their willingness to betray, kill, and destroy for power and money—it��s all there. Don’t you think it’s ironic? They fight for their ideals, only to become what they despised.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are we talking about the book, or are you giving me a lecture about your games?”

He smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Both.”

You leaned on the table, refusing to let him steer the conversation. “Speaking of games, the guards didn’t come this morning to check my wound. Did you tell them to skip it, or is neglect just part of the service here?”

In-ho paused, then sighed. “I forgot. Today, all the guards are busy running tests on some new equipment.”

You frowned, not buying it entirely. “And what am I supposed to do? Just let it fester? I want it to heal as soon as possible so I can leave.”

He stood, walking over to a cabinet and retrieving a first aid kit. “I’ll do it myself,” he said, setting the kit on the table.

Your heart skipped at his sudden assertiveness. “Oh, so now you’re a doctor too?”

He smirked, pulling out supplies. “Sit,” he ordered, his voice firm yet oddly gentle.

You hesitated, but the authority in his tone left little room for argument. You perched yourself on the edge of the table, feeling your pulse quicken as he moved closer.

In-ho knelt slightly, his face level with your waist as he reached for the hem of your shirt. “May I?”

You nodded, trying not to show how much his proximity was affecting you.

His fingers brushed your skin as he carefully lifted your shirt, exposing the bandage over your wound. His touch was surprisingly soft, almost tender, as he peeled back the dressing. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver involuntarily.

“Still hurts?” he asked, his voice lower now, almost intimate.

You swallowed hard, trying to sound unaffected. “Not as much as it did.”

He glanced up briefly, catching your eyes before returning to his task. “You’re healing faster than I expected.”

As he cleaned the wound with gentle precision, his fingers grazed your skin again, sending a wave of heat through you. You hated how aware you were of him, of his closeness, of the way his brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you said, your tone light but edged with tension.

“I’ve had practice,” he replied, his voice even.

“Let me guess,” you teased, “patching up players before sending them back out to die?” He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to yours. He didn’t answer.

When he finished, he secured the bandage in place, his fingers lingering for just a second too long before pulling away. He straightened, stepping back to give you space.

“Done,” he said simply.

You hopped off the table, adjusting your shirt. “You know,” you said, smirking as you picked up the first aid kit, “I think you lied about the guards. You just wanted to play doctor.”

In-ho’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Believe what you want.”

Your smirk widened. “I usually do.”

The tension between you hung in the air for a moment before you broke it. “Let’s continue our game. You have to answer me a question.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

“Where does all the money come from?” you asked, your tone deceptively light.

For the first time, In-ho seemed caught off guard. He hesitated, his composure faltering ever so slightly before he schooled his features again.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Because it’s part of the deal,” you replied, “and because I have a feeling I’m not going to like the answer.”

In-ho sighed, his eyes darkening as he leaned against the counter opposite you. “The money comes from our investors — the VIPs. Powerful people who pay to watch the games, to bet on the outcomes. They fund everything—every death, every prize, every room in this place.”

You stared at him, your stomach churning. “So you’re saying it’s all dirty money from psychopaths who enjoy watching people die?”

He didn’t deny it, his silence speaking volumes.

You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “And you’re okay with that? With taking their money and using it to—”

“To run this system,” he interrupted, his voice cold. “A system that shows the truth about humanity. About greed, desperation, and survival.”

You didn’t know what to say, the weight of his words pressing down on you. It was horrifying, but part of you couldn’t help but wonder—was he right? Were people really as monstrous as he believed?

But you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction of agreeing. Not yet.

"You're telling me," you hissed, glaring at In-ho, "that these people—these VIPs—spend their money just to watch people suffer? To watch them die?"

“It’s not just about watching. It’s about power. They see themselves as gods controlling the lives of mortals. To them, this is the ultimate entertainment.”

You clenched your fists. “They’re monsters. Every single one of them, and you too, ” you was hoping it would hurt him. In-ho stood unfazed.

“I want to see them,” you continued.

His mask of indifference wavered for a moment. “What would you achieve by that?”

“I don’t care,” you snapped. “I want to see them. And I want to kill them.”

In-ho chuckled, “That’s not possible.”

“Then make it possible!” you challenged. “You want me to see things your way? Fine. Let me see them with my own eyes. I want to know the kind of people who think this is entertainment.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider your words. Then he sighed, the kind of sigh that hinted at resignation. “There’s a welcome party in a week. The VIPs will be here to discuss the results of the previous game and plan for the next one. You can come.”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting him to relent so easily. “Really?”

He stepped closer, his tone firm. “Yes, but you'll have to be with me the whole evening.”

You frowned, suspicious. “Another one of your tricks, In-ho? You just want to keep controlling me.”

He tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “Think what you want. But if you want to be in that room, you’ll be by my side. Just like you promised me during on of the games, remember?”

“If it came down to it, would you choose me? I mean, would you stand by me? No matter what happens. No matter what I say or do. Would you be on my side?”

“I… I don’t know, I mean, I trust you, but—”

“That’s all I need. Your trust. Promise me you’ll stay by my side. No matter what.”

“Okay. I promise.”

You stared at him, the fire in your chest burning with memories, but you couldn’t ignore the logic in his words. Finally, you relented with a begrudging nod. “Fine. But only because I want to see them for myself.”

---

The week passed in a blur. In-ho was gone most days. You spent your time trying to figure out what you’d do at the party, but every scenario you came up with ended the same way—with rage and no resolution.

When the day finally arrived, you slipped into a fine black dress that hugged your body in all the right places. It was beautiful—too beautiful for the dark purpose of the evening. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a strange mix of power and vulnerability staring back at you.

In-ho entered the room, his footsteps soft but deliberate. His sharp black suit made him look every bit the intimidating figure he was, and when his eyes landed on you, they lingered.

“You look good,” he said, his voice low and almost… gentle.

You didn’t respond, turning to face him fully instead.

He handed you a geometric black mask identical to the one he was holding, the Frontman mask. You immediately frowned, holding it up in disbelief. “I’m not wearing this. I don’t want to look like you.”

His expression didn’t change, but his tone turned colder. “If you don’t wear it, they’ll figure out you were a player, and they’ll demand answers—or worse.”

You hesitated, hating that he was right. The mask felt heavy in your hands, both physically and metaphorically.

“Fine,” you muttered, putting it on. “But don’t think for a second this makes me one of you.”

In-ho’s lips twitched as if suppressing a smirk. “Of course not.”

He held out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, you took it. His fingers were warm, his grip firm but not forceful. He led you out of the room, through the labyrinth of hallways, and into a world you weren’t ready for.

---

The party was ridiculous. The wealth on display wasn’t just obscene; it was suffocating. Every surface shimmered with gold, every plate piled high with food most you couldn’t even pronounce. The guests moved like predators, masks gleaming, their voices dripping with casual cruelty. They talked about the games as though they were nothing more than a sport—entertainment for the bored and soulless.

You hated it. Every laugh, every boast made your skin crawl.

And yet, In-ho never left your side. His hand rested firmly on yours or your waist, a silent reminder that he was there, even as his own body betrayed his distaste for the event. He didn’t like this party any more than you did.

At one point, a man in a lion-shaped mask sidled up to you both, his voice loud and grating. “The new games this year were fantastic,” he said, chuckling darkly. “The way they turned on each other—it’s always the best when they do the work for us, isn’t it?”

You stiffened, the words hitting you like a slap. Your stomach churned with revulsion.

“I bet on 334 and lost,” the man continued, waving a hand dismissively. “Stupid cow. She was too slow, too weak. Should’ve known better.”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “How dare —”

In-ho’s hand slid to your lower waist, his fingers pressing firmly against your side. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“She’s new to all this,” In-ho interjected smoothly, his voice even but cold. “Still adjusting to what the games entail.”

The man laughed, oblivious to the tension. “Ah, I see. She’ll learn." The lion-masked man waved you off, already turning to another guests.

You turned to glare at In-ho, your lips parting to say something you but he cut you off before you could speak, "Do not say anything to them."

You hissed, “I can’t stand these people. They’re disgusting.”

---

At one point, you were left alone by the champagne table. In-ho was across the room, deep in conversation with one of the biggest investors. From his posture, it was clear the discussion was serious. But then the investor’s face shifted toward you. He pointed in your direction, saying something that made In-ho stiffen.

“The woman you brought tonight,” the man said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “She’s... intriguing.” His eyes under the mask lingered on you, “I want her in my suite tonight.”

A flicker of something dark passed over In-ho face though no one could see it. He remained composed, but his voice was colder than usual when he replied, “She’s not available.”

The man chuckled, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t recall asking. I’m telling you. I want her.”

“She’s not available,” In-ho repeated. His voice was colder now, his words deliberate. “She’s my co-host. Not someone to entertain our guests.”

The wolf-masked man’s laughter faded. “I don’t fund these games to hear no, Frontman. I’m sure you understand.”

“And I’m sure you understand that this discussion is over.” In-ho’s voice was steady, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

The man glared at him for a moment before scoffing and walking away, muttering something under his breath.

In-ho immediately crossed the room toward you, tension radiating off him in waves. His mask couldn’t hide the anger in his sharp movements as he approached.

When he reached you, his voice was low, laced with irritation. “Enjoyed the party?” he asked, his tone cutting.

You blinked, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he spoke again, his words clipped. “You’re done here. Go back to your room.”

Before you could respond, he motioned to two guards, who immediately stepped forward. “Escort her back,” he ordered.

The guards moved to your side, their presence leaving no room for argument. You glanced at In-ho, flabbergasted by his sudden change in mood. He didn’t say another word, just turned back to the party, leaving you to wonder what had just happened—and why he was so angry.

---

The whole memories, dialogues, all those people from the party swirled in your head like a storm as the guards escorted you back to your room. Each thought churned your stomach, feeding a fire of anger and disgust within you.

When you entered your room, the silence felt deafening, suffocating. The anger bubbling inside you finally boiled over. The thought of people dying here for years, desperate to hold onto their lives for the sake of their families—parents, children, loved ones—only to be slaughtered for the sick entertainment of these wealthy monsters made your blood run hot.

With a scream of rage, you grabbed the nearest thing—a lamp—and hurled it against the wall. The shattering sound was cathartic, but it wasn’t enough. You began smashing everything in sight: anything you could lift was thrown or broken until the room looked as wrecked as you felt inside.

An hour later, you stood amidst the destruction, breathing hard, your fists clenched. That was when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The door opened, and there he was—In-ho. Calm and composed as always, his mask gone, his face unreadable.

“What the hell do you want?” you screamed at him, the sight of him only igniting your fury all over again.

He took a step inside, closing the door behind him. “The party is over. I came to check on you.”

“Check on me? Check on me?” Your voice cracked with rage. “You’re a monster! A psychopath! How can you live with yourself, running this—this slaughterhouse?”

You charged at him, fists flying. You punched his chest, his arms, anywhere you could reach, but it was like hitting a brick wall. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move to stop you, his expression as cold and detached as ever.

Your fists collided with his chest over and over, but he stood there, unflinching, as if your blows were nothing more than a breeze. “How could you?” you yelled, voice raw with fury. “How could you stand there and watch people die? How could you want me to be part of this? You’re a fucking monster!”

He didn’t respond, his face stoic, though something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something restrained. Your anger bubbled over. Another punch, another scream of rage, but before you could throw your next strike, he moved.

In an instant, his hands cupped your face, firm and unyielding, and then his lips crashed against yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, consuming, like a dam breaking after a long time of holding back. His lips moved against yours with a raw intensity, silencing your screams and swallowing your fury. You froze for a moment, shocked by the suddenness of it, but his grip on your face didn’t falter, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

You felt his breath, warm and uneven, against your skin as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, gentle despite the fire of the moment, as though he couldn’t resist the softness of your skin. His desperation was palpable, days of suppressed emotion pouring into the way his lips claimed yours.

Then, clarity snapped back. You shoved him hard, your palms pressing against his chest, breaking the connection between you.

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed, your voice low and venomous.

In-ho didn’t move. His hands dropped to his sides, but his eyes remained fixed on you, dark and intense. His breathing was heavier now.

“I want to go home,” you finally said, your voice breaking this time. “I want to leave this nightmare. I don’t want to be part of your sick games.”

He didn’t react to your words, not immediately. Instead, he adjusted his stance, his tone even and composed. “You’re forgetting something,” he said quietly.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Our game,” he reminded you, his eyes steady on yours. “Last week, I answered your question. That means...”

You clenched your fists again, the reminder of your agreement making you feel trapped. “What do you want?”

“I need you to come with me tomorrow,” he said. “One place. After that, you’re free to go.”

You searched his face for any sign of deception, but his expression was unreadable. “One place?” you repeated suspiciously.

“One place,” he confirmed. “That’s all.”

You didn’t trust him, not entirely, but the thought of finally leaving this place was too tempting to resist. After a long pause, you nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow. Then I'm gone."

Before you could react, a faint hissing sound filled the room, and a sweet, cloying scent followed. Your head whipped around, panic rising in your chest, but it was already too late. Smoke began to seep through the corners of the door, curling like ghostly fingers into the air around you.

“In-ho!” you shouted, your voice sharp and accusatory. He was already standing at the doorway, his expression cold but deliberate.

“What are you—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as dizziness swept over you.

Your legs buckled, and the room swam before your eyes. The world tilted, your breath shallow as the smoke wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Darkness crept in, and the last thing you remembered was the sound of your own heartbeat, slowing, before everything went still.

///

Part 5 is posted!

Also there will be a prologue - you can find all the chapters and information here. tag list: @nellabear @69-gojos-wife-69 @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @riri53 @annasnape7 @vivaforeva @luv1ze @saiannicebaby @wwastro @bellababes-xx @bluechaoslizzy @raideyo @enzosluvr @the-silentium @r3va-dwme

#001 x you #001 x reader #player 001 #001 #the frontman #frontman #frontman x reader #front man #hwang inho #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #inho x reader #in ho #squid game 001 #squid game s2 #squid game

293 notes · View notes

lucvly · 1 year ago

Text

CHRIS STURNIOLO WHO . . . ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: fluff, implied sex– smut if you squint. not proofread.

a/n: i hope this makes Sense... 🤒 i’m gonna be so embarrassed if it doesn’t ?? also sorry this is so Short this is just a chris brainrot tbh.

CHRIS STURNIOLO who’s endlessly obsessed with you. heart eyes for you only– always talking about his girl and how he got infinitely lucky with you.

( CHRIS STURNIOLO that fucks you senseless as soon as you get home from a meeting, a party, or anywhere where you looked a little too good. he feels the need to remind you how lucky he is to have you, and how your body and his are made for each other, how he can make you cum, how well you take his dick. )

CHRIS STURNIOLO who spoils you rotten. you’re his princess after all, why wouldn’t he? anything you want, he’s getting it for you. he loves spoiling his girl– you deserve nothing less.

( CHRIS STURNIOLO who loves it when you put on a show for him after you shop. or even during– he’s following you into the dressing room, dick hard as you drag him in with you because you “just want his opinion”– when in reality, all you want is for him to see you in those short skirts and lingerie sets that make him squirm as he watches you. )

CHRIS STURNIOLO who loves public display of affection. he’s clingy and whiny when he’s with you. always wanting to hold your hand, kiss you, hug you a and grab you by your waist because he loves feeling your warmth.

( CHRIS STURNIOLO who, on the rare occasion that he’s feeling submissive, will do anything to please you. eat you out until you’re seeing stars and praising him for being such a good boy for you. the prettiest sight is seeing his messy hair, glossy eyes, pretty lips that were almost drooling as he begged and whined for you to touch him. )

CHRIS STURNIOLO who loves filming innocent videos with you. vlogs doing domestic stuff, videos of your travels, videos of your dates, just to remember the occasion and to treasure your memories and time together.

( CHRIS STURNIOLO who has videos of you fucking. full on sex tapes you’ve made for when he leaves for tour he can remember how good your pussy swallows his dick. his personal favorites are a video of you sucking him off, drooling all over his dick, looking up at him with that look that makes him lose all sense of control. his second favorite, a video of him giving you backshots, hearing his grunts and heavy breaths mixed with your moans and whimpers from how good he’s making you feel could just make him bust anytime. )

CHRIS STURNIOLO who loves seeing you in his clothes, which led to you becoming one of the main ambassadors for fresh love. he loves seeing you in the matching set, or just any other clothing that belongs to him.

( CHRIS STURNIOLO who gets hard seeing you in his clothes. he knows it’s nothing special but god does he enjoy the view– especially when you’re bouncing on his dick while wearing nothing but a fresh love hoodie or on early mornings after you stay over and you wake up in one of his shirts and you’re slightly limping because of how rough he was– what a sight for sore eyes. )

646 notes · View notes

commodorez · 1 year ago

Text

So, some of y'all may have seen my Knox RS16x16 composite video router before in photos. It's the backbone of my home AV plant.

It has two methods of controlling it by default: the front panel keypad with LED crosspoint to view the status, and cereal serial console.

I noticed this empty socket of an uncommon size, and an extra BNC connection marked "remote video readout", but I couldn't find any specifics about it. The manual from 25+ years ago makes a vague reference to it, and how it syncs off of whatever is feeding input #1 to generate video. It was an available option in the earliest days of the product, and then it wasn't mentioned again.

Recently I took a guess about it being a Fujitsu MB88303 television display controller, intended to provide on-screen display information for a TV (for like, function menus n' stuff). It had the same size, and looked to be self-contained, so maybe that was the part... so I bought one. I checked continuity on a few pins compared to the datasheet, and installed it.

I provided a video source to sync on input 1, and... voila! It provides a status display of how the crosspoints are routed! Victory!

And that's how I upgraded my main composite video router 25+ years after the company expected anyone to bother.

#knox rs16x16 #composite video

177 notes · View notes

sirfrogsworth · 8 days ago

Note

Mr. Frog, I have a thought experiment I thought you might enjoy chewing on?

My friend has a copy of Speed on VHS, a VCR, and a CRT tube TV. I challenged him to stream Speed to us over a Discord video call by pointing a webcam at the CRT, and he said it wouldn't work because the lighting and reflections would make it too difficult to see the CRT screen.

Ignoring the artifacts introduced by streaming a CRT (screen flicker/frame roll/whatever you call it, compression artifacts, etc), how would you light one to be recorded with enough clarity to be able to watch the content being played on the TV? In this case, the TV is on one of those ceiling mounted racks in the corner of the room, like what used to be in some classrooms and waiting rooms back before LED/LCD panels got cheap.

TVs are emissive, so the trick is not how to light them, but how to block light from causing interference.

The easy answer is a pitch black room, but that isn't always possible.

But even a moderately dark room is usually fine. The closer the camera is to the TV, the brighter the TV will be relative to the other lights. And since light is competitive, if your room lights are fairly dim, and your camera is close to the TV, it should capture pretty well. The light from the TV will outcompete all the other room lights.

That won't stop specular highlights though.

These are direct reflections caused by light sources. They ignore the competitive light thing due to fancy science.

So you may have to play with angles. If you can make sure all light sources are behind the screen, that would be optimal. But you just need those specular sources to not be reflecting directly off the TV and into the camera. Photographers have to play with angles like this to photograph people with glasses. We just move the lights around until we can't see them reflecting.

If that isn't possible, you may have to create a hood for your display. You can google "monitor hood" to see the typical design, but you can just use cardboard from a shipping box. Just tape a square to the side or sides that need to block direct reflections.

You could even put a blanket over the TV and camera.

And if you do want to get rid of flickering and banding...

The best way to capture CRT is to match frame rate and shutter speed.

NTSC (North America) is roughly 60Hz and PAL (UK/Europe) is 50Hz.

So you'd need a camera that can do 60fps and has the ability to adjust the shutter speed to a multiple of 60. 1/60 or 1/120 usually. Not all webcams have this control, so you may not be able to cancel out these artifacts.

There is a great video about it here...

youtube

26 notes · View notes

matchesarelit · 1 year ago

Text

Pikmin! (Spencer Agnew x Gn!Reader)

A video game themed bar was exactly what you needed, maybe even a little more...

Smosh Masterlist

Requested: Sort of... 'reader meets him at a bar and than they go home together and have a fun nerdy time at his place' -anon

A/N: Sorry anon they don't make it home, also hope you like video games, I thought it was a safe bet for a Spencer fan, Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Mentions of fighting (mortal combat game play, smash bros)

W.C: ~2.1k

You'd been eager to try this place since your 'for you' page had all but taunted you with it while you were sick in bed with the flu. So crossing the threshold, the outlook of a dive type bar decked out in gaming memorabilia was both overwhelming and exactly what the doctor ordered.

LEDs behind the bar were mesmerising as they throbbed and changed, it was only after you'd straddled a stool that your eyes floated up past the assortment of alcohol, to the large collection of consoles and plug-ins suspended above.

Eagerly seeking out your favourites, you simply nodded when an approaching figure inquired after the stool to your left. Snaking your gaze down the shelving, your stare fell low enough to catch the figure of the bartender on the other side of the bar. The older woman was watching you with an amused smirk, clearly your enraptured state was not a rare one among first time visitors. Casting a glance to her headwear, you noted the Mrs Pacman sitting on her headband as you considered your drink order. Opting for a familiar brand you retrieved your phone from your pocket to pay, the case making it difficult as usual, as the bartender produced a bottle and left with a smile.

As you sipped your beverage you let your focus flit around the bar, There were a few larger screens with small groups of people crowding controllers and consoles, there were more displays and shelves chocked full of all sorts of gaming nostalgia and a few retrofitted old computers playing arcade gameplay.

Finding yourself watching more than a few rounds of mortal combat on an old box TV, your attention only shifted as a rather larger group of spectators erupted in cheers on the other side of the space. Noting some other set ups around the bar, ones much less crowded that that one, you stood from your chair, drink long since drank in many an unconscious sip as you'd watched the fights.

There was a couple duelling in some newer game you couldn't recognise, a group of older people screaming their encouragement alongside a woman playing pinball and lucky as ever, right at the back in a little alcove, there was an empty GameCube setup. Although a few other familiar titles lined the small area, the screen was already displaying your game of choice; Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3.

After frying your own console years before you'd been itching to get your hands on this game for a while. Yet as if it was only yesterday you found yourself navigating the menu with ease, selecting a map you felt you might recognise, the name sounding somewhat familiar, possibly one you'd sold your soul to over fifteen years before.

Admittedly, navigating the menu came easier than recollecting the controls, but after a few minutes you were finding your groove well enough to hit a couple special moves and terrorise a few pedestrians.

Concluding your first level you'd indulged in the character select menu, although finding the original Tony Hawk much too nostalgic, you continued on all the same.

Before continuing, you took a brief glance around your little station, cautious someone else might be wanting a go.

Satisfied by the empty space around your chair, and the empty one by your side, you continued on to the next location. Finding yourself revisiting some favourite tricks and areas from years before, you felt yourself relax into the game, it was only when as you sat back in the chair and the stats for the completed level popped up that you noted the presence of someone talking by your side.

'-still can't believe you stuck with Tony, Demoness all the way'

Turning towards the voice you caught sight of a man around your age, sipping some colourful concoction, as he shifted his gaze from the screen to you.

Although, you noted to yourself, the mess of curls adorning his head surely meant his sight was solidly obstructed, so how he managed to notice which character you'd chosen was a mystery.

He was nonchalant as he plopped into the chair by your side, and you felt yourself of similar affect as you responded,

'Well, I must admit my old favourite was the Eye Guy as I knew him, but its been so long i wanted that Vanilla playthrough effect ya know, nostalgia and all that.'

'Oh I'm very familiar. Do you mind if I have a go?'

Hand gripping the back of your chair you go to move,

'Of course I'll just-'

'You don't need to leave, I'll only probably play the one level, I was never the best at Pro Skater,' His words were said softly vet with a surety that left no room for argument,

'Are you able to hold this?' He seemed hesitant to ask as he continued scouring the space despite holding his drink out in your direction.

'Keep me here just to hold your drink did you?' your tone was light enough that despite the flush on his cheeks he still held it out when he saw you nodding.

You took it into your hands, holding the glass in your lap atop crossed legs as you watched him grasp the controller and navigate the menu just as you had done.

As he began to play you let your eyes drift from the menu to the assortment of games along the wall, spotting a couple of old favourites you made a note to try them if you got the chance later.

Returning your attention to the screen you sat in the relative silence of the little alcove, enjoying the small sounds and voice lines from the game you'd long forgotten the AI were capable of, until the man by your side spoke up.

'How do you do the... The double flip? I'm completely blanking' He looked momentarily back to you as his character drifted about the landscape,

'Oh its just the same button as flip, just twice,' your voice was soft, hoping not to come off as patronising with the simplicity of your answer.

'Oh yeah, simple eh?' He laughed it off easily as he turned back to the screen, watching him go on to try, and nail, the trick, you smiled to yourself.

Concluding a second level you'd urged him to play, he handed the controller back to you as you returned his drink.

'Did you want to play another level? I'm thinking of changing the game,' letting your mind drift once again to the cases along the wall, you considered your options.

'Nah I'm good, what're you thinking?'

'Ooh, im not sur- OH' You cut yourself off as a certain title caught your eye.

Tugging it free of its sleeve you held your choice aloft, being careful of the disk surface of course,

'Luigi's Mansion? Good choice...' his words although genuine came with a familiar hesitance.

'I know right I've-' Your excited reminiscence was cut short as he cut in,

'...Fair warning; their copy doesn't work'

'Oh damn...' you slid the disc back into its place

'Agreed, I felt exactly the same when I tried booting it up last week.' He watched your movements before scooting his chair back a bit and starting up again, 'They do have the third one on a switch over there,' he pointed his drink in the direction of the largest crowd in the room, the chalkboard wait list filled to the brim in progressively smaller and smaller writing desperate to be fit in. 'But you'll probably be waiting a while.'

Your lips sucked into a defeated line, you moved your gaze back onto the man by your side. His own focus set on the glass beneath him as he seemingly attempted to skewer the floating lime on his straw. You noted that just as you'd thought before, his hair had clouded the space between his eyes and the drink.

'Do you have any suggestion then? Any that work?' You pondered with a laugh as you flipped through the cases, the sound drew his attention back to you, not that you noticed as he remained silent, stare caught on the back of your head.

A few moments of silence later and upon finding nothing you turned back to him, a brow raised as you sat awaiting his response.

'Oh um, there's always Smash?'

Nodding slightly you put the controller on the tabletop and began to search for the disc, 'I never really played it, you'll have to show me how...' Unsure where the confidence came from for that request, you stalled slightly in taking the game out, and replacing the other with it before sitting back down.

Letting your peripherals catch what you refused to look directly at, you watched as he nodded, his lips pursed for few too many moments before parting with a soft utterance, 'uh-yeah of- of course'.

Holding your hand out for his drink you held out the controller with the other, and as you felt the weight of the glass in your hand you studied the screen as he began a match.

'So with this one you have all the regular moves, which use the regular buttons but, for example, Falco's Phantasm you need to use- '

His explanations were comprehensive and before long, you were playing and winning matches on your own, well mostly on your own. The man beside you seemed unable to stop himself from leaning closer and pointing out special attacks you could manage at any given time. By the time you'd won your second stage his shoulder was knocking your own, his face inches from yours.

Sitting back in your chair once again, all but pooped from the adrenaline rush of such a victory as your character filled the screen almost as happy with themself as you were, you felt the warmth of his closeness fade as he followed your lead, slumping in his own seat.

Your short reprieve was cut short however as a voice, much harsher than that of the man at your side, crackled from behind you,

'Sorry, Are y'all done with this console?'

Sharing a brief look with him you shrugged and glanced to the bar, a small nod was enough for you as you turned and addressed the newcomers, 'Yeah, we are. Go for it'

Stepping out of the alcove you moved no more than a metre, before turning back to check for him. Part of you expected him to leave for another spot in the bar, another console, but a bigger part of you was sure he wouldn't, at least not yet.

Sitting up on a stool you grabbed your phone to pay for a drink yet as you waited you addressed the man once again by your side.

'Well that was great fun! Little bit of nostalgia is good for the soul, ain't it?'

'Definitely. Although... Are you sure you haven't played Smash before?'

'Weeelllll... I admit I have played some of the newer ones at parties and such, but I really thought it'd be completely different on such an older console.'

Your cheeks were hot at the reveal, it wasn't as if you'd lied, but the suggestion you'd done so to get him to help you was an interesting one.

A small smile on his lips, he fixed you with a playful glare, the crinkling of his nose a dead giveaway. Never the less you played along, dropping your phone to the bar top and raising your hands in the air as if to profess your innocence.

'I promise. Next time though, I'll have to get your help on something else, something have no idea about, maybe Pikmin? I assure you I have absolutely no clue about that game.' Your face as stoic as you could manage, not very stoic at all, you watched as his smile splurged into a wide grin as his eyes looked between you and the phone discarded on the between you on the bench.

The device was hugged by a bright red silicone case with a telling red stem that ended in a single green leaf dangling off the top end.

You continued, 'What even is a Pikmin?' Getting the question past your lips without laughing between syllables was a struggle, but a worthy one as he soon broke into giggles at your sincerity.

'Well, you seem completely cluel-' He was interrupted as your phone rung out a hearty Pikmin!

'... Completely clueless... and that's okay, I'm happy to help.'

'You're too kind...' You trailed off realising you still didn't know his name.

'OH... I'm Spencer by the way,' Nodding, you failed to supress the smile that had spread across your lips as you spoke,

'Well, Spencer, I really need your help. So how about nex-'

Pikmin!

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smosh #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

91 notes · View notes

eagerled · 1 year ago

Text

The Top 5 Benefits of Using an Energy-Saving LED Display

LED screens are really popular these days. They light up your home, office, or business space and bring lots of benefits. Some of these benefits include improved advertising, better visibility for signs, connecting with the community and customers, and quickly sharing information. When it comes to boosting a business, these advantages make LED screens stand out and create a strong identity. However, it's important to know that LED screens use power and electricity, and over the years, they have used quite a bit of energy. Luckily, technology has improved, and now we have better products that deal with the issue of power consumption. We call these improved products energy-saving LED screens.

Following are top 5 advantages of switching to energy-saving LED displays:

Efficient Energy Consumption: Light-emitting diodes (LEDs), which consume relatively little power, are used in their operation. When you compare them to other types of displays, energy-saving LED displays give you bright and clear visuals while using much less power.

Longevity and Durability: These displays last a long time, much longer than regular displays. The LEDs they use are strong and can handle bumps and shakes without a problem. Their lengthy lifespan means that you won't need to replace them too frequently.

Cost Savings: Since they use less electricity, the bills are lower, saving a lot in the long run for any business. Also, since these displays last a long time and don't need much maintenance, businesses spend less on keeping them running smoothly. This means more money stays in their pockets.

Enhanced Brightness and Visibility: LED displays are really bright and easy to see, even in places with a lot of light. The best thing is, the technology they use lets you control how bright they are,so you can see them well without using too much energy. This makes energy-saving LED displays perfect for lots of things, like signs outside or for advertising.

Minimized Heat Output: Energy-saving LED screens are safer and more comfortable to use indoors because they don't produce as much heat as regular displays. They also have a special technology that prevents them from getting too hot. In short, energy-saving LED screens are great because they use less power, last a long time, show a good picture, and are better for the environment. If you need any assistance or want to purchase LED displays, contact to Eager Led for better solutions.

#Outdoor Front Service Led Module #Outdoor Front Service LED Display #LED Display Products #Flexible LED module #LED Display Module #LED Video Screen Module #LED Display Video Controller #Colorlight

0 notes

hysysav · 3 months ago

Text

Advanced Active LED Displays| Active led solution and services | Hysys

Hysys offers advanced active LED display solutions, providing high-quality, customizable LED displays for various applications. Their services include design, installation, and maintenance, ensuring optimal performance and energy efficiency. With cutting-edge technology, Hysys delivers impactful visual solutions for advertising, information display, and entertainment industries.

#led video wall controller #led video wall #hysysav video wall controllers #Advanced Active LED Displays #Hysysav video wall controllers #video wall controllers in India #Active LED displays

0 notes

doumadono · 2 years ago

Note

Hello. Your comforting stories have been incredibly helpful to me and they are so well-written. I'm wondering if it would be possible to request a piece (emergency request) that deals with anxiety and panic attacks. If this topic isn't suitable for you, please feel free to ignore this request. I'm looking for a scenario involving either Midoriya or Kirishima or Bakugou or Hawks providing support to their significant other during a panic attack caused by a triggering friend. Lately, there have been numerous triggers around me, especially from people I care about, which has led me to have anxious breakdowns. I'm really in need of some support. Could you write a piece that's heartwarmingly sweet and focuses on distracting the significant other from negative thoughts? Thank you in advance. You dedicate so much of your time to us readers, always displaying incredible kindness. I'd love to be your friend

A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you've been facing such challenging times lately. Dealing with triggers, especially from people you care about, can be incredibly tough and overwhelming. Remember that you're not alone in this. Be kind to yourself and take things one step at a time. You're resilient, and brighter days are ahead. Also, feel free to reach out to me - I'm so willing to make new friends!

MASTERLIST

Kirishima

You were having a panic attack triggered by an encounter with a friend who reminded you of a traumatic event. Amidst the turmoil of your panic attack, a strong yet gentle arm slipped around your shoulders. Kirishima's familiar presence was comforting, and his voice held a reassuring warmth. "Hey, you're not alone in this struggle. I've got your back, just like we've always had each other's. Don't pay too much attention to that encounter." His words carried a sense of camaraderie that only someone like Kirishima could provide.

"I-I can't do this, Eijiro…" You whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks.

As you clung to him, he squeezed your shoulder gently. "Remember that time we pushed through during training? We took on tough challenges, faced our fears, and came out even stronger. This is no different. We'll face it together." His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of determination and empathy shining within them. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts control you, let's focus on something positive. How about we plan our next fun outing? Maybe ice cream and a movie marathon?"

His suggestion was genuine, and you couldn't help but smile through the residual unease. His unwavering support was a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. With Kirishima by your side, you felt stronger, just like when you faced challenges together as friends and partners.

Bakugo

You experienced a panic attack due to a triggering encounter with an old friend who was very unkind to you, saying a lot of wry words. In the midst of your anxious breakdown, a fiery presence seemed to engulf you. Bakugo, surprisingly, knelt down in front of you. His usually intense gaze softened, revealing a concern you hadn't expected.

"I-I can't breathe, Katsuki…" You whined, choking on your own tears.

"Tch, don't let that damn idiot mess with your head. You're stronger than that crap." His hand cupped your cheek, his touch both unexpected and oddly comforting. "Think of a time when you kicked ass. Remind yourself who you are — someone who won't back down."

His voice, though still intense, held an unexpected gentleness. "I've seen you push through tough situations. You're resilient as hell." He leaned in slightly, his brows furrowed. "Now, let's do something to distract your mind. How about watching some sweet, stupid videos online? You like them. They won't be as spectacular as my explosions, obviously, but they might help get your mind off those thoughts for a while, nerd. Oh, and say just a word and I'll fucking blow them up. Understood?"

It wasn't the comfort you were used to, but it was genuine and uniquely Bakugo. He might not show it like others, but he cared. And in his own way, he was trying to help you weather this storm of anxiety.

Hawks

You were in the middle of a panic attack triggered by an unsettling conversation with an old friend of yours. As your panic attack gripped you, a calming presence settled beside you. Hawks knelt down, his wings spreading slightly as if to shield you from the outside world. His eyes held an empathetic understanding, a silent assurance that he was here for you.

"I can't think straight, Hawks…" You admitted.

"You know, you've got wings too," he said suddenly, his fingers brushing your hair back gently. "Not the literal ones, but the strength to rise above this situation."

His soothing voice carried a sense of calm, and his touch was comforting in its gentleness. "Let's focus on something else. Imagine we're soaring above the clouds, leaving those negative thoughts far behind." Hawks' wings unfurled gently, their red feathers cascading like a protective cocoon. With a tender and understanding expression, he moved closer, his wings slowly enveloping you in their warmth. The soft rustling of feathers created a soothing rhythm, and the delicate touch of his feathers against your skin brought a sense of comfort.

Amidst the chaos, he offered a moment of serenity, reminding you that you were not alone in this battle.

Midoriya

You were caught in a panic attack after a distressing interaction with a triggering friend that hurt you previously. While you were enveloped by your anxious breakdown, a gentle smile greeted you as Midoriya sat down in front of you. His kind eyes held an understanding that only someone who had battled their inner demons could offer.

"I-I feel so useless, Izuku," you whispered.

"I know how it feels to battle your own mind and unpleasant situations," he said softly, his voice holding the same compassion he showed during his hero acts. "But remember, you're not alone."

His hand found yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "Instead of letting those negative thoughts consume you, let's reminisce about the times we've laughed till our sides hurt. Those are the moments worth fighting for, right?"

He wasn't just offering comfort; he was sharing a piece of his own resilience and reminding you that you possessed the strength to overcome these challenges.

235 notes · View notes

materialsscienceandengineering · 3 months ago

Text

World's smallest shooting video game uses nanoscale technology

A research team led by Professor Takayuki Hoshino of Nagoya University's Graduate School of Engineering in Japan has demonstrated the world's smallest shooting game by manipulating nanoparticles in real time, resulting in a game that is played with particles approximately 1 billionth of a meter in size. This research is a significant step toward developing a computer interface system that seamlessly integrates virtual objects with real nanomaterials. They published their study in the Japanese Journal of Applied Physics. The game demonstrates what the researchers call "nano-mixed reality (MR)," which integrates digital technology with the physical nanoworld in real time using high-speed electron beams. These beams generate dynamic patterns of electric fields and optical images on a display surface, allowing researchers to control the force field acting on the nanoparticles in real time to move and manipulate them.