#net suit design

[palevcr]

IN THE LAP OF EXCESS

he was sin in a suit. sharp jaw, sharper tongue, and a mouth full of trouble. she was too young, too bold, too curious. and she liked the way he looked at her—like he had no right to want her, but wanted her anyway. tony stark knew better. but that didn’t stop him from pulling her into his penthouse, sliding between her thighs like she was the last bad decision he’d ever make. maybe it should’ve been a mistake. but god, did it feel like power.

pairing:older!Tony Stark x younger!reader

genre: age gap, billionaire x intern, smutty tension, seduction at a party, mentor kink

tw: MDNI 18+, explicit sexual content, age gap (legal I SWEAR), power imbalance, morally gray behavior, filthy dialogue, whiskey-soaked tension, implied infidelity, dominant older man, “you’re fucking someone young enough to be your daughter”, degradation & praise

The same glinting sea of crystal flutes catching light like shattered stars. Tailored suits whispered against one another, threads stitched with old money and silent ambition. Diamond-drenched smiles flashed across the room, sharp enough to draw blood, and the air was perfumed with the unmistakable scent of obscene wealth—aged whiskey, designer leather, foreign cologne that lingered like a dare.

It wasn’t a party. It was a pageant of power. A mating ritual for the elite, where net worth replaced pheromones and laughter was just another form of warfare. Everyone dressed to impress, but more importantly—to intimidate. Sharks in silk. Jackals in Tom Ford.

Tony Stark had seen it all. Hell, he'd built the goddamn ballroom they were dancing in—metaphorically and otherwise.

He wore black Armani like sin, every seam tailored with surgical precision, his presence cutting through the noise like a scalpel. A living contradiction—grit polished to a mirror sheen. Charm and danger woven into flesh and fabric.

He moved through the crowd with lazy magnetism, trailed by whispers and second glances. A nod to a senator’s wife, who giggled like she was half her age. A smirk at a tech CEO who would sell his soul—and maybe already had—for a Stark Industries deal. Tony didn’t do handouts. Especially not to men who begged with champagne breath and damp palms.

The endless drone of shallow conversation eventually scraped against his nerves.

He peeled away, slipping toward the bar where a veteran bartender—one who’d weathered every era of Stark’s destruction and resurrection—poured before he arrived. No questions. Just ritual.

“You know what I like,” Tony muttered, voice low and rough—like gravel soaked in honey. The whiskey was served neat. Deep amber. A drink that tasted like legacy, guilt, and too many ghosts.

He had barely raised it to his lips when something shifted in his periphery.

A girl.

No. A woman—but only barely.

She stood out instantly. Not because she was trying to. Because she wasn’t. No designer logos clinging to her curves, no vulgar display of borrowed wealth. Just soft shadows and quiet confidence. A silhouette framed by the chaos, sipping red wine like she belonged, like she hadn’t just walked into the lion’s den with bare hands and bold eyes.

Tony blinked. Someone bring their daughter? Or worse—an underaged plus-one with daddy issues and a forged invitation.

He leaned casually against the bar, giving her a look that was too slow to be subtle, head tilted with feline curiosity.

Then she turned.

And fuck.

Pretty wasn’t the word. Dangerous was closer. Lipstick the color of blood and bad ideas. Eyes wide enough to get a man in trouble. She looked young. Too young. FBI-knock-on-your-door young. His libido sat up and took notice while his common sense muttered don’t be an idiot, thats a lawsuit waiting to happen.

But then she smiled. Cool. Unshaken.

“Do I have something on my face, or...?” she asked, lips curving like she already knew she did.

Even her voice had edge. Smooth with the tiniest bite. Like silk pulled tight over a blade.

Tony took a long sip, buying himself a second to recalibrate. “No. Just trying to figure out which chapter of the sorority handbook covers sneaking into billion-dollar parties.”

She laughed—honest and unpolished. Then bit her lip, and Tony nearly groaned.

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said. “No cult. No glitter. Just me.”

“Mm. You sure?” he drawled. “Because I’m getting heavy ‘freshman with a fake ID’ energy.”

“I’m twenty-one,” she replied, lifting her glass in mock indignation. “And I’m an intern. Not that I was invited.”

Tony blinked. Then laughed—a rich, unrestrained sound that turned heads.

“You’re seriously telling me—the guy who wrote the guest list—that you snuck in?”

She shrugged, unapologetic. “Figured if I was going to get thrown out, it might as well be by someone interesting.”

For a moment, he just stared. Admiration stirred, quiet and dangerous. She was clever. Sharp. Bold. The kind of girl who could accidentally undo a man—just by looking at him like that.

Jesus. His mind was already slipping. Lipstick smeared. Dress hiked. Those lips wrapped around his cock, sucking and milking him dry.

Focus, Stark. He sipped again, letting the burn snap him back to center.

Still, he leaned closer. Couldn't help it. His breath brushed her ear, his cologne thick in the air—wood, spice, and sin.

“You even old enough to be drinking?” he murmured, pretending it was a joke.

She met his gaze, calm and unblinking. “I told you. Twenty-one.”

“Right. And I’m just Tony,” he said, smoothly interrupting her before ‘Mr. Stark’ could leave her lips. “Call me that again and I’ll start looking around for my father.”

She laughed again, softer this time. It was dangerous. Because it wasn’t flirtation.

It was fun.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, shifting slightly closer, enough to catch the whisper of her perfume—sweet, delicate, but grounded. Not like the powdery clouds most girls drowned themselves in. It smelled like summer and secrets.

She held up her glass. “Not sure. Some old man gave it to me.”

Tony exhaled a sharp laugh, letting his head drop for a second.

“And you just took it?” he asked. “Christ. I don’t know if you’re brave or just stupid.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why not both?”

He chuckled darkly, his gaze dropping to the neckline of her dress. Low. Elegant. Deceptively innocent.

She caught the look and smiled, slow and knowing. “He seemed pretty set on me taking it. And I hate being rude.”

Flirting like it was just another man—not Tony Stark. And that? That got under his skin in the best possible way.

So he stayed. Talked. Asked her name. Got her to laugh again—light, real, nothing like the false noises echoing around the ballroom. Topped off her glass every time it dipped below full. And eventually, when the conversation got too warm, when the looks got too long, he leaned in close and murmured:

“Follow me upstairs.”

Then he walked away.

No looking back. He didn’t have to.

She came.

Tony sank into the leather of his penthouse armchair, legs sprawled, glass hanging loosely from his fingers. The elevator pinged. He didn’t need to look.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered, voice husky with something heavier than alcohol. She stepped in, eyes wide as they took in the rich, restrained decadence—floor-to-ceiling windows, soft jazz humming from invisible speakers, the city sprawled out below like a conquered kingdom.

“Nice, huh?” he said, lifting his glass in a lazy toast.

She nodded, stepping between his knees.

His hand slid to her hip—warm, steady. He guided her down, slow, deliberate. “Sit,” he murmured.

She did. Settled over him. His hips shifted upward in welcome.

Her breath caught. Shaky. Barely audible. His smirk returned.

He set his glass aside, both hands now on her—roaming over hips, up her sides, beneath the fabric.

No bra.

Sweet. Fucking. Hell.

His palms found her chest, a perfect fit for his hands. He gave a slow, reverent squeeze.

“You’re pretty touchy,” she whispered, voice barely there.

“You want me to stop?” he asked, thumbs brushing across sensitive skin.

“No.”

She breathed it out, soft but certain, her breath ghosting over his lips just before they collided.

The kiss was not sweet. It was messy. Desperate. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled, and Tony groaned against her mouth as his hands roamed freely—palming her tits, thumbs brushing across hardened nipples under that dangerously low-cut dress.

“You playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips, voice gravel and sin. “Coming up here. Sitting on my lap. Kissing me like that.”

“Who said I don’t like danger?” she whispered back, hips rolling subtly, just enough to make him hiss.

Tony’s grip tightened on her waist. “You don’t even know what danger is,” he growled.

She just smirked, lips slick, pupils blown. “Then show me.”

That snapped something loose in him. One big hand slid up to wrap around the back of her neck as he kissed her again, rougher this time, like he was trying to memorize her mouth with his own. His other hand stayed anchored to her hip, guiding her against the hard line of him beneath his trousers.

“You realize,” he muttered between kisses, voice low and dangerous, “you’re fucking someone old enough to be your father.”

She bit his lower lip, not gently. “You’re the one fucking someone young enough to be your daughter.”

That made him laugh—dark and amused. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, leaning back just enough to look at her. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Isn’t that why you brought me up here?” she replied sweetly, rocking her hips again, slow and calculated.

Tony’s eyes darkened as he stared at her. “Careful,” he said, voice like velvet and broken rules. “You’re gonna make me do something reckless.”

“Maybe I want you to.”

That was all it took.

In one swift movement, he stood, hands gripping her thighs as he walked them both over to the massive bed like she weighed nothing. He tossed her down onto the silk sheets, watching her bounce once, hair a halo of temptation around her flushed face.

“Stay there,” he ordered, already undoing the buttons on his dress shirt with practiced efficiency. “Keep your hands to yourself. If you’re good, I’ll let you touch me.”

Her lip curled in challenge, but she didn’t move. Not yet.

Tony shrugged off the jacket and shirt, muscles cut and golden under the low light, his arc reactor casting a soft glow against his chest. He looked like sin wrapped in money and scars—older, yes. But powerful. Hungry. The kind of man who devoured girls like her for breakfast and never looked back. He crawled onto the bed like a fucking panther, slow and deliberate, settling between her legs. Her dress had hiked up high enough to reveal her thighs, smooth and soft and begging to be touched.

“I should feel bad about this,” he muttered, hands sliding under the hem of her dress, dragging it up her body inch by inch. “But I don’t.”

“You really don’t,” she breathed, arching into him as his fingers found the edge of her panties.

Tony grinned. “Nope. Not even a little. You came up here looking for trouble, sweetheart...”

He dipped down, mouth brushing the inside of her thigh, hot and wet.

“...And you fucking found it.”

Tony’s lips trailed fire down the inside of her thigh, teasing the bare skin exposed by that dangerously short dress, and she gasped—half from surprise, half from the sharp heat spreading low in her belly. His hands gripped her thighs like he was marking territory, thumbs stroking slow, deliberate patterns just above the fabric of her panties.

“God, you’re so fucking soft,” he murmured against her skin, voice husky and low. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

She shivered under his touch, eyes dark and hungry, and Tony was already pulling those panties aside with a cocky smirk—because why waste time?

His tongue flicked out, teasing her folds, licking a wet stripe up her core, making her back arch off the sheets. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging him closer, breath hitching as he sucked a harsh kiss right where she wanted him most.

“Stark...” she gasped, voice raw.

“It’s Tony,” he murmured against her, sliding two fingers inside her with a slow, torturous rhythm. “You’re twenty-one, and you’re already making me this desperate. It’s criminal.”

“Maybe I want you to be desperate,” she whispered, voice thick with want.

Tony chuckled darkly, fingers curling inside her, thumb circling her clit with expert precision. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

The age between them? It was electric. Forbidden. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a delicious, wicked violation.

He pulled back just long enough to unzip his pants, his cock springing free—hard, thick, and absolutely made for her. He leaned back in, aligning himself with a slow, deliberate slide that stole her breath away.

“You’re fucking someone old enough to be your father,” he said low, teeth grazing her ear, voice thick with lust and amusement.

“And you’re fucking someone young enough to be your daughter,” she shot back, biting his neck.

He slammed into her then, slow at first, savoring every inch, every gasp, every curve that clung to him. She clenched around him, a mix of shock and ecstasy tightening her muscles.

Tony’s hands roamed, gripping her hips, pulling her flush, hips snapping with a cruel kind of rhythm. “You’re mine tonight.”

Her nails raked down his back, breath ragged and wild. “Make me forget everything but you.”

The room filled with the sound of skin slapping, heavy breaths, whispered curses, and the delicious tension of two bodies out of sync with the world — perfectly, dangerously in tune with each other.

This has BEEEEN sitting in my drafts, and I thought I’d let it out of its shackles while I work on the part two of the Draco story 😆 its exam season too so bare with me💔

[donutdrawsthings]

Here are my entries for the #SUMMERSPLASHDOWN2025 contest :o] (character belongs to @/fourleafisland)

I figured a lot of people would go for a more clear sailor look, so i wanted to come in with something a bit different. design explanations under the cut!

The first design was inspired by pirates. I always associate the red and white stripes on a scarf to shipmates, so I decided to give critter a hint of that too! The capelet (which i forgot to draw on the back of the design, whoops), is supposed to resemble ocean waves. The sea foam at the bottom of the capelet has a subtle clover pattern on it to return to the general clover theme! Tying the 2 sections of the design together is a golden ship and anchor clip that are tied together by a little chain. I figured a pirate theme wouldn't be complete without wood from ships, and originally wanted to go for a driftwood look for the tail cuffs (unfortunately, i felt it didn't suit the palette...). Instead I took inspiration of wooden tables that use resin to tie 2 pieces of wood together, since these also give a water vibe.

For design 2 I took inspiration of what sailors actually set out to do, catching fish! Critter wears a tiny knitted shawl/scarf, which rests underneath a collar that exists out of vintage Japanese glass floats, which were these glass orbs woven into fishing nets to keep them afloat.

Sticking with the theme of fishing ropes, I decided to let the rope of the collar to tie back to a bigger rope in the back, which has been woven and tied into a cute bow! Critter has Kelp around their tails, which fishing nets sometimes get caught up in. Then the Cuffs are also made from the same material as the glass of the floats! It is a very thick glass, so when the light shines through it, it comes out looking green on the other end of it. This little light i also decided to stylise into a 4 leaf clover. Lastly, the fish on Critter's head is the chat mascot of 4leaf's chat. it wears a little captain cap and proudly takes its spot on top of Critters head!

That's it! Hope you like looking at the designs I came up with :oD If you're still reading this, you're a champ!

[hawkinsbnbg]

born to ride

prompt: ride | word count: 453 | rated: M | tags: pop star Steve Harrington, rockstar Eddie Munson, coming out, established Steddie | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

Steddie Bingo Prompts: car sex, service top, quickie | @steddiebingo

Stephen Joseph Harrington was America's heartthrob and golden boy. He’d debuted young as a child actor and later a singer when he reached twenty.

Ever since his third album peaked on Billboard Hot 100, his career had risen to the top, made him an A-list, and turned his net worth into millions of dollars.

Gradually, he wasn't just Henry in Wasteland anymore. He was Steve Harrington now. A singer, a songwriter, and a pop icon.

Cylinder was his sixth studio album and it'd quickly become an international sensation.

Although he didn't confirm anything about his sexuality, rumors had it the title song was his come-out statement.

Born To Ride

The race is almost over, but I’m in no haste

‘Cause love is my lasso, and I’m a professional

You gotta know

Darlin’, you gotta know

I take care of my boys when they ask nicely

Tonight, tonight, tonight

You’re mine

(oh, you're mine)

I'm gonna ride you, boy

I'm gonna ride you, boy

All night, all night, all night

‘Til dawn breaks the sky.

— Steve Harrington

Everyone loved it—especially the stage.

Not only did Steve look hot in his Barbie cowboy outfit, but he also straddled Eddie Munson’s thighs while singing about riding men.

He would’ve been in much more trouble if the rockstar hadn't been openly queer for years and known for despising queer baiting.

Their performance had made the social media explode that night.

Two days later, Eddie's Instagram posted a photo. It was a man sitting on his lap, facing him with a tanned back dotted with moles and freckles, wearing a pink cowboy hat.

The caption said: lassoed.

“Babybabybaby– Oh fuck–”

Ringed hands scrambled to grab his hips, blunt nails digging crescent moons into his tender flesh.

Steve threw his head back and swiveled his hips, thighs flexing as he sweated and bounced on his boyfriend's lap enthusiastically.

He needed to work fast. Make Eddie fill him up before the limo could reach their destination.

Beneath him, Eddie looked wrecked. Half-lidded eyes, red swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and wild hair.

Lovely. Handsome. His.

It only took a few more well-timed gyrations before warmth flooded his inside.

By the time they stepped out of the car, Steve was back in his teal suit once more. He smelled like whiskey and sex, plugged up and sated.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, Eddie waved at the cameras alongside him, looking delectable in a black suit that had been designed to complement his own.

The following day, the tabloids continued gossiping about their scandalous performance, how they’d got freaky in the limo before walking the red carpet together.

In response, Eddie only posted more photos of Steve riding a horse shirtless.

[loviingpedri]

will you still love me? - pedri

prompt: it’s been years since you saw pedri. the series of events leading to fate.

warnings: grammar issues

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

pedri was on top of the world.

he moved out of tenerife. he won the golden boy award and kopa trophy. he’s traveled the world. he had a stable life filled with riches.

although, there was one thing missing.

*flashback begins*

“pass it to me!”

you were running for your life. tiny pedri was running after you as you passed the ball to his older brother, fernando.

“goal!” you yelled as fer kicked it into the net.

pedri’s young heart couldn’t help but catch feelings for you. how brightly you smiled at the sight of him or how your mother always gave him candy (mostly this reason).

the way the three of you laid on the floor, sweating from the hot summer nights in mid-july. fer closed his eyes as his body relaxed.

6 year old pedri looked at you in admiration. you were staring at the moon. you felt his stare and looked at him. his hand reached for yours. you interlocked fingers with him.

soon,the crazy days were over and the city lights didn’t seem to shine so bright after he left.

*flashback ends*

you moved to barcelona in hopes of running a successful business of creating clothings for big names.

fashion always seemed to appeal to you. drawing pieces that your grandmother would create to come alive. you wanted to follow her footsteps in the fashion industry because you enjoyed the memories with her.

attempting to get your name out there, a brand reached out to you. their hopes was to connect to the modern style. today was your first meeting with the company after your recent hire.

you walked through the glass doors. careful with your steps, you opened the door to the conference room.

“hello. are you y/n?” a lady stood up, offering her hand.

“yes i am.” you tried to show off your brightest smile. you shook her hand and quickly took a seat.

“i assume you were advised to sketch some pieces?” you nodded in response as you flipped your folder full of drawings. each filled with notes of materials.

“from the request, this is the sketch i had.” you took a picture of a black suit.

“it fits the client’s description perfectly.” she examined the paper with a smile. you nodded your head, returning the smile.

“we’ll send this to his team. i’m sure it’ll be accepted, so i plan to send you the measurements. the event is in 3 weeks, therefore, i plan to meet next tuesday for a fitting.” she got up once again to shake your hand. you thanked her for her time and shook her hand.

success filled your brain. your dreams were coming true. immediately, you went shopping for the fabric you needed. your heart was beating with excitement.

-

the work was completed. today was the day that you would meet with your client for the fitting. you tapped your feet in anticipation.

the bland white walls with clothes hanging everywhere. you heard loud footsteps with muffled talking. then, the door opened.

your eyes widened. your face dropped. your mouth was open.

his eyes widened. his face dropped. his mouth was open.

you were standing face to face with pedri.

“y/n?”

“pedro?”

the memories of your best friend came flooding back to the both of you. a smile appeared on his face. the nervousness and pressure was swept away instantly. you weren’t strangers, but it still felt that way.

he still looked so beautiful. better than the photos, for sure. his smile and eyes still so pure at the sight of you.

“it’s been so long.” he walked up to you, offering a hug.

returning the hug, “yeah, way too long.” an awkward laugh came out.

“i assume you’re the one who designed my suit?” he examined the suit from the hanger, nodding his head in approval.

“yeah, i did.”

“no wonder why i like it so much.” he winked at you. “so, when did you move here?”

you hummed. “not too long ago. big change for me.” he nodded.

“we should go out after this. maybe catch up a little bit.”

“we definitely should. maybe you’ll be my first friend here.”

“i was your first friend ever.” you rolled your eyes at his sarcasm. both sharing a smile, he still remained your sun after all this time.

-

the fitting was great. his outfit for the ceremony was complete.

“so, what brings you here?” he asked as he scooped vanilla ice cream in his bowl.

“just wanted to expand my business.”

“i thought you were doing great in tenerife?”

“i was. everyone agreed that i would be successful in bigger cities. fer motivated me the most to make the big move. did fer not tell you i was coming? he visited me not too long ago.”

“no, he didn’t. honestly, i thought i wasn’t going to see you until i came home.”

you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. “and when were you coming home?”

“good question.” he laughed. he hasn’t visited for about a year. even if he did, you never crossed paths. he tried his hardest to see you again, but fate always kept you separate.

the silence was killing both of you. neither of you wanted to make eye contact. you cleared your throat.

“maybe i should stop calling you pedro.”

“i don’t mind if you do.”

“very few people call you that now.”

“it’s a name where only loved ones call me. which would be you.”

you laughed. although he was genuine, you couldn’t take him serious. it was silent once again. tourists walked around as the fountain kept splashing water. the birds chirped as the sun was beginning to set.

“hey, i know we just reconnected. but i have a game next week. i think you should come.”

you looked down, playing with the ice cream in your bowl. you hesitated for a moment. pedri was nervous at your quietness.

you suddenly spoke,”yeah, i don’t see why not.” he gave you a warm and gentle smile once again.

“next wednesday. be there.”

the summer day finally ended.

-

pedri had asked you to meet in a private area before the match. you had bought a jersey in advance, not wanting to be an outsider in the crowd.

you stood in a narrow hallway, admiring the paintings on the wall. suddenly, the door opened and it revealed pedri.

“hey, nice jersey.” he said, pulling you into a hug.

“thanks. player 6 seemed more interesting, but player 8 was the only one available.”

“i’m better than number 6.”

“yeah, whatever you say.” you both laughed. he looked at you as if you were an angel. even though this was the first game you attended, you were already his good luck charm. whenever you were around, his soul always became electric and hyped. you looked at his pretty face. you wanted to look at him forever.

and that’s when you knew. this childhood crush never ended. you would love him when he was no longer young and beautiful. you would love him through his pain, his aching soul. he was your sun, and you were shining like diamonds around him. you looked in each other’s eyes, filled with nothing but love.

“crazy idea, but i think you should come to the event with me next week.”

“i was hoping you would ask.” he laughed at your comment.

“i’ll see you after the game.”

“score a goal for me!” he winked at you as you waved him goodbye.

making it back to your seat, you were amazed by the stadium. the crowd roared as red and blue was seen everywhere.

you honestly spaced out for the beginning of the game. the stadium was lit up as a stage for pedri. the smooth passes he had. the way the ball moved so quickly your eyes couldn’t keep up. then, he kicked the ball.

the stadium became louder. pedri had scored. he did his signature celebration, followed with heart hands being formed. he mouthed the words, “dedicated to you.”

-

today was the ballon d’or ceremony. you spent most of yesterday exploring paris, france. later on, you spent most of your time getting ready. pedri insisted in hiring people, but you declined.

you had designed and made your outfit. pedri thought it was the most beautiful thing.

“can you believe this view?” you said, admiring the stars.

“no, i can’t believe it at all.” pedri wasn’t looking outside the window. he was looking into your eyes. in that moment, nothing mattered to him. ever since childhood, he continued to love you. he knew that he would love you even if you weren’t young and beautiful anymore.

although you reconnected in just a few weeks, you knew him your entire life. a simple reconnection was all that needed. everything was fated since the beginning of life.

after that night, life was brighter than all the diamonds in the world.

[just-another-random-cloud]

I'm totally normal about Anti Hero Chris what are you talking about-

Well... This is a silly idea of the bros testing a new mode for the suits using electric eel discs, Martin ended up surrending too much to fish mind and was caught in a net by poachers, they want to sell him to a lab or a circus.... the only thing they didn't expect was that the "creature" they caught had a brother...

This was slightly inspired by @martincrushcameback 's au because 1. I love TSFTSR's Mermartin and his design (it's so good aaaa-) and 2. I can't resist a little bit of Protective Chris saving his big bro.

Extra info + No text version:

These designs are part of a mode for the suits in the Anti Hero au, that is basically a "fighting" mode. This Eel disc, for exemple, is heavily inspired in sirens and aquatic monsters, mainly to cause a feeling of unease to their targets, like they are facing a supernatural being. There's also a breathing... visor thing (I don't really know the name) that can be removed outside water. I will (eventually) talk more about the fighting mode and how they affect the other suits!

No text

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🏖️ shore’s celebration outfit 🎉

Yes, I am 100% aware it’s weeks before the actual event drops but 🙂‍↕️ I’m so hype for it that I started doodling and ended up with a design I’m pretty happy with. Can’t say I’m satisfied with the colors (it’s way too much compared to what the canon characters are wearing), but I guess I can claim “it works for her specifically” because usually Miss Raven’s outfits stand out from the others in some way. This is to help signify that she’s from “outside the story” or is an oddity at NRC.

I pulled inspiration from both Ariel and Ursula (well, Vanessa). The hair shape is inspired by both Vanessa's waves and the general silhouette of Ariel's. The big bow in the back is similar to the one Ariel wears on her date with Eric. You can't see it from the front, but the bow is secured with a golden clasp in the shape of the tiara on Ariel’s wedding dress look.

Raven's earrings are the same shape as Ursula's, and she wears a golden spiral shell necklace similar to Ursula's as well. The difference is that Raven's is on a string of pearls (similar to Rook’s). I wanted to incorporate a lot of pearls, which is why you'll see it beading her big hair bow (forming a pseudo-fish scale design) and dotting her skirt. The coral bracelet on her right hand also has pearls (like Riddle’s), and the silver ring on her left hand has pearls too. The pearl ring is actually a callback to an ancient post when a Jade roleplayer gifted Miss Raven a promise ring.

I originally also wanted to give her an oyster and pearl corsage, but then I realized Malleus already had one 😅 so I skipped it… It was probably for the best, it might have made her top look too crowded.

Her dress is a combination of Ariel's shipwreck dress and Vanessa's normal outfit, wedding dress, and the live action Vanessa's doll. There is netting incorporated into her big bow, as well as a rope-like ribbon securing her center. The pattern on the hem of her dress also resembles netting, but doubles in creating the illusion of mermaid scales. I also gave her wedges with straps that resemble rope. The shape of the dress is very close to Vanessa's wedding dress, save for a few added ruffles. The topmost layer of her skirt opens in the middle and is bunched off to resemble a mermaid's tail. She also has a removable violet cloak, similar to what Vanessa wore on her first appearance along the seashore. I thought it was a good reference to include, and it suits Raven's character since she tends to be mostly covered up. (The dress is strapless!)

The colors are inspired by Ariel's green tail, purple seashell bra (+ Vanessa's dress), and red hair. Again, probably too colorful of a look compared to the canon characters, but I think it makes her stand out in a good(ish) way.

Jade and Riddle’s suits are mostly black, while Malleus and Rook’s looks are white/cream with black accents. Miss Raven can be the other extreme for the group (mostly cream/white and with a lot more color), ie the “light” to the dark. It suits her www

[strulobitch]

Okay so I saw your posts about something something feminine Lance and my mind wandered…

You know how Lance described his style as “flowy” (which??? i have questions about but ok) in some rapid fire questions? Headcanon of Lance liking to wear fem clothing, but only in places where he knows there aren’t any cameras or anything (he’s shy yk), like the AMR HQ. It’s an occasional silk dress shirt that has big bell sleeves and an accent on his waist, or a crop top, a big hoodie with short shorts, a corset or, sporadically, a skirt. All high fashion, rare designer pieces, too, stuff that looks good and feels good (his father built a 4b$ net worth on fashion, didn’t he). And the team just… knows about it. They don’t really care, nor comment, the guy is there to drive so really it is not any of their business what he prefers to wear in his personal life, but mostly they’re just used to it.

Cue Fernando, who switches teams and goes to his first ever team meeting and sees Lance in /these/ clothes and goes “???”. Because it’s Lance, who has like maybe three pairs of shorts that aren’t team kit and possibly an entire closet of simple white T-shirts, and suddenly he’s in an Alexander McQueen or a Schiaparelli dress shirt with a corset on top of it. And no one seems to care, like it’s a perfectly normal thing. And Fernando isn’t judgemental about it, he probably wouldn’t ever care if it didn’t look this good and make him question every single thing he’s ever known about himself. Lance, in his usual “winning-the-idgaf-war” fashion, genuinely doesn’t notice, until he does and makes it his mission to drive the guy completely insane every single time they have any duties in Silverstone. But he keeps up the nonchalant attitude, when Fernando jokingly asks “Why are you dressed like this at 7am on a Tuesday” he just shrugs and says “Felt like it” which makes Fernando even crazier up to a point where he feels like he’s hallucinating the entire thing. And then I guess one day he snaps, which is… perfectly according to plan.

- 🎀

Omg yesssss

I love this, it's perfect

I'd also like to add Lance wearing makeup

I can see him walking to the garage during testing where journalists aren't allowed, racing suit on and helmet in hand, looking as usual, except for the baby blue eyeshadow and glittery white inner eye highlighter

Fernando is taken aback, not expecting that. But nobody else reacts, except for the ones that compliment it before moving on. Lawrence comes in, and Fernando can feel his stomach twist, as he has no idea what to expect. Lawrence walks over to Lance, kissing his cheek familiarly before narrowing his eyes

"Is that new?" He asks, motioning at Lance's face, to which the man nods, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles

"It is. The lady at the store said it would make my eyes pop," he explains, to which Lawrence nods, in a 'makes sense' way. "That it does," he comments, before, like everyone else, he moves on with his business

I also feel like he'd be very experimental, leaning towards alternative and vintage fashion, rather than current trends

He'd often go through archives like you said, looking for pieces that speak to him

Anyways I have nothing more to add

[nionom-art]

Gona be honest, I think your shelfi ser/self designe Miraculous suits are awesome, really like them😃. And don't bother about the helmets, suit adapts to user, so these kind of quirks are totaly valid!😃 This could be in a form your signature elemet if you do more😃

(I do not want to pressure you to do, but would be net if you do🥰😍)

I’m thinking about doing a few more (bee, fox, turtle, butterfly, peacock). Will definitely take some time though. I’m glad you like the designs :)

[helloitstsyu]

Wicked Game | Tom Cruise 18+

Fantasize series | Previous part

Your heart is already racing before they even call your name.

You grip the edge of the vanity like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. Your chest is tight—too tight. The mirror shows a woman glowing in designer silk and confidence, but behind your eyes, something cracks.

You’re not fine. Not even close.

You try to breathe deep, but it’s shallow and uneven, like you’ve forgotten how. Your lipstick’s perfect. Your eyeliner, sharp enough to cut. But your hands won’t stop shaking.

You’re not usually this anxious. You’ve done product launches before—flawlessly. But this one feels different. Heavier. Like the whole weight of your future is balanced on its success. Because if this falls apart… there’s nothing left to hold you together. No backup plan. No safety net. Just you, stranded in the city you hate, trapped in a life that suddenly doesn’t feel like your own.

You hear your name being called over the mic—sweet and enthusiastic.

“Aaannd here’s our bright founder! Y/N Y/L/N!”

Showtime.

You paste on the smile. Shoulders back. Spine tall. And you step out into the spotlight like it doesn’t burn.

Applause hits you in waves. Camera flashes go off like lightning. You wave, you speak, you smile—all while your insides coil tighter and tighter. You’re performing. Every word, every movement, choreographed to perfection.

And then—you see them.

Your father, beaming with pride. And beside him—

Tom.

Time hiccups. The applause fades under a deafening rush of blood in your ears.

Of course he’s here.

He walks beside your father like it’s natural, like it’s not the most dangerous thing he could’ve done. He’s in black suit—no tie, open collar, jaw clenched like he’s forcing himself to stay polite. His eyes—those goddamn green eyes—find you instantly.

Your smile falters.

“Congratulations, cupcake! I’m proud of you,” your dad says, pulling you in, kissing your cheek. You cling to that moment like a lifeline.

“Thanks, Dad,” you manage, but your voice sounds distant.

He steps aside, and suddenly there’s him.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” Tom says. He offers a handshake—appropriate, careful, calculated. But his fingers brush yours like a secret, like a memory.

Like that one in the private lounge. Where he touched you like he owns you.

Your skin flinches. You pull away a second too fast. “Thank you,” you say, short, brittle, already unraveling.

You move through the crowd like a ghost, answering questions, laughing at jokes, posing for photos. But your pulse pounding in your ears. Every nerve feels lit. Every inch of your skin feels watched.

Because he is watching you.

Even when he's upstairs, standing beside your father, schmoozing with other guests, he doesn’t stop. His eyes never leave you. And you feel them. On your back. Your throat. Your thighs.

Burning.

You hear your name again—louder this time. Laughter erupts. Lights flash. Your dress clings to you, suddenly too tight, the heat unbearable. You blink, but the world tilts sideways.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You try to swallow. You can’t. You try to speak. Your lips are numb.

The sounds melt into static. Faces blur. Your hands tremble so badly now, you have to clasp them together to hide it.

You glance up—and he’s there.

Leaning over the railing. Elbows braced. Watching you like he knows something is off with you.

His jaw is tight. His brow furrows.

Your vision blurs again. You blink hard. But the ringing in your ears drowns out everything. It’s like your body is screaming without a sound.

Too hot. Too loud. Too much.

You’re drowning in your own skin.

You try to answer the interviewer’s next question, but the words twist in your mouth, and suddenly—

You need out.

Now.

You murmur something, anything. You excuse yourself, smiling too wide, nodding too much, and then you’re walking—no, You're pushing past people, past cameras, into the nearest hallway. Your heels click frantically against marble, echoing like a countdown in your head.

You run, searching for sanctuary. Unfortunately, the only safe haven you spot is a janitor's closet. You quickly dart inside.

The darkness swallows you. The air’s thick, too warm, like it’s closing in. Your chest burns. Tightens. Your ribs feel like they’re caving inward. You know this feeling too well—your lungs clawing for air, your mind spiraling. You're having a panic attack.

You clutch at your chest, desperate to feel your heartbeat, to anchor yourself in something real. But it’s erratic. Loud. Useless. Your hands shake. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Then—

The door creaks open.

Light spills in.

Tom steps inside.

The second your eyes meet his, something shifts. The air thins. Your breath stutters—eases, for a heartbeat. But the fury still bubbles under your skin.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice low, thick with concern.

He already knows the answer. That’s why he’s here. And that knowledge—that he knows—only infuriates you more.

"I'm fine," you snap, sharper than intended.

He closes the door behind him, sealing you both in that small, suffocating space. “No,” he says, unshaken. “You’re not.”

"You shouldn’t be here, Tom,” you hiss, trying to hold your ground. “There are cameras. Press. My father—”

“I don’t care,” he cuts in. “Not when you're like this.”

He takes a step closer. His brows knit in worry, but it's the softness in his eyes that makes your throat tighten again.

And you crack.

"I'm not alright!" you shout. The words tear from you like a scream escaping years of silence. “Is that what you wanted to hear?! I’m not okay—because of you!”

Tom flinches, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

“I’m not okay because I'm trying to stay away from you, and you just—you keep looking at me! Stop looking at me!”

“I’m not—” he begins, quietly.

“You are!” your voice trembles now. “You’re looking at me! You're always watching me. And I can’t breathe. I can’t think. So just—STOP!” You yell.

He’s silent for a long beat. Then his voice comes low. Fractured.

“Do you think I want to look at you?”

Your pulse stutters.

“Do you think I enjoy this?” His voice breaks, raw and almost unrecognizable. “Do you think I want to feel like this every time I see you? Like I’m losing every shred of control?”

You say nothing. Can’t.

"Do you think i want to feel this miserable after weeks trying to stay away from you? God, You're my best friend's daughter. For God's sake, Y/N, I'm almost as old as your father! I should know better.”

He runs a hand through his hair. Agonized.

“Hell, Y/N,” he exhales. “I would give anything not to look at you.”

He says it like it kills him.

And in that tiny, dimly lit room—crowded with truths neither of you can outrun—you’re left speechless. Empty. Trembling not just from panic anymore, but from him. From the weight of everything unspoken and the impossible pull between you.

"Fuck it,” he growls under his breath—and then he’s on you.

There’s no pause, no warning. Just the crash of his mouth against yours, brutal and burning, like he’s starved for you. Like the weeks of restraint have finally snapped. His hands seize your waist, hauling you up and slamming your back against the shelf hard enough to send supplies crashing to the ground.

Your gasp is swallowed by his kiss. It’s not gentle—it’s filthy, ravenous, all tongue and teeth and groaned curses. You claw at his shirt, yanking him closer, hungry for the weight of him, the heat, the fucking feel of him.

His hands are already everywhere—skimming beneath your clothes, yanking fabric away from your skin, exposing you inch by trembling inch. He mouths down your neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your head drop back. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans, grinding between your thighs.

“Tell me to stop,” he pants into your throat, voice shaking.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

And you don’t want to.

He lifts you with a grunt and slams you onto the desk behind you, knocking papers and pens aside. His lips never leave yours. You wrap your legs around him like you’ll die if you don’t feel him closer. His cock presses hard against your soaked panties and your hips lift instinctively, desperate for friction.

It’s reckless. It’s forbidden.

It’s everything you’ve been aching for.

Your hands tear at his shirt, nails dragging down his back. He groans—deep, low, feral—and buries his face in your neck like he’s losing his goddamn mind. “Y/N…” he moans your name like a prayer, like a curse.

One hand cups your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple until you cry out. His mouth finds your jaw, your collarbone, your chest—biting, kissing, claiming. “Fuck, you feel like a dream,” he groans, before sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You tremble beneath him, hips canting, chasing friction. When his fingers slip under your panties and find your heat, he freezes.

“You’re dripping,” he says, stunned, like he can’t believe it. “So fucking perfect.” He strokes through your folds, slowly, deliberately, until your thighs shake around him.

Then—he drops to his knees.

Eyes blazing, he peels your panties down your legs, slow and reverent. He doesn’t toss them aside—he slides them into his back pocket like he needs to keep them.

He spreads your thighs with trembling hands, kisses up the inside of your leg, breath hot against your skin. And then—

His mouth devours you.

You cry out, thighs clamping around his head. He eats you like a starving man, groaning into your cunt, tongue flicking, sucking, fucking worshiping you. Your fingers bury in his hair, your hips grinding into his face, chasing the sharp edge of release.

You’re close. So fucking close—

And then he pulls away.

“No!” you gasp, breath ragged, teetering on the edge of madness.

But he smirks, cocky and wrecked. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs darkly, undoing his pants with a flick of his fingers. His cock springs free—thick, flushed, aching.

He fists it once, twice, then lines himself up with your entrance. Presses his forehead to yours.

“Look at me.”

You do.

He pushes inside—slow, brutal, deep.

Your gasp is strangled. He’s big, and the stretch is maddening. You cling to him, legs tight around his waist, eyes shut as he fills you to the hilt. He groans through gritted teeth, forehead slick with sweat.

“Eyes on me,” he snarls.

You obey—barely.

He thrusts again, and your back arches, a cry torn from your throat. His rhythm builds—fast, hard, desperate, each stroke slamming you back against the desk, his hips snapping forward like he’s trying to brand himself into your body.

“Tom—fuck—don’t stop,” you plead, nails raking down his back.

“Never,” he growls. “You feel too fucking good—mine—you’re fucking mine.”

His lips find yours again—sloppy, frantic kisses between moans. Every thrust makes your whole body tighten, tremble. The knot coils tighter, until it’s blinding.

“Shit—OOOHHH!” You don’t even get to warn him.

The orgasm hits like a goddamn explosion. Your whole body shakes, legs convulsing around him, tears stinging your eyes as you scream his name.

“Fuck!” he snarls, barely holding on. He pulls out just in time, spilling across your stomach with a deep, guttural moan, his body trembling as he collapses against you, forehead buried in your neck.

For a moment, all you can hear is your pounding heart and his gasping breath.

Then—

“You okay?” he whispers, voice rough.

“Yeah… you?”

He takes too long before he answer. You could see the self conflict through his eyes. The layers of guilt appearing.

There’s a silence between you now.

Not the awkward kind.

The heavy kind—the kind that says everything has changed. "Yeah," he retorts. Though his eyes says otherwise.

You rest your forehead against his, skin damp, breaths tangled. Neither of you dares speak the truth sitting in both your chests: that this wasn't a release—it was a breaking point.

--------

Taglist:

@katluke25

@tom-cruiseisalegend

@anima-patronos

@malavera

[eli-tigrecreativa]

Aisha 🌊

Aisha, one of the two princesses of Andros, a planet made of 90% of water. Since she was a child, Aisha has been taught good manners and royal etiquette. She's a hard worker and speaks several languages, but also found the time to learn how to express herself through her favorite thing in the world: dancing, the only thing that makes her feel free from that gold cage that is her role in the society. Aisha is also a master in combat, she was followed by many masters in her childhood and knows many combat styles.

The life on Andros, tho, is suffocating and she wants to explore Magix. That's why she decides to take part of a diplomatic mission on a distant planet, that will led her to meet some familiar fairies.

Random facts:

Aisha is the fairy of water in every form and yes, this pisses off Icy (a lot). Her magic style is very physical, mostly inspired by Katara's waterbending

she's half mermaid and, as all the chimera-fairies, she has some very particular abilities: she can hold her breath for almost an hour, her eyes see very well in the dark and her wings are made of a particular membrane that can be fold up completely against her body to allow her to swim with more agility

to communicate with mermaids, who use ultrasounds, she learnt sign languages, like all the people living on Andros

Aisha's father and the mermaid queen are blood siblings. On Andros there are two royal families, one living on the ground and one living in the ocean

of all the Winx she's the strongest, physically speaking, which will cause Stella's envy. The two will learn to bond through physical exercise, giving each other advices

Aisha arrives at Alfea in the middle of the year and quickly becomes one of the school's brightest students and one of the most popular girls. She's particularly loved by younger students who see in her an older sister figure

through a specific spell she can turn her legs into a mermaid tail for as long as necessary, even forever if she would

Aisha's father arranged for her a marriage with one of Andros' most distinguished bachelors: Nabu. Initially opposed to it, she takes some time to get to know the guy who turns out to be a very nice boy. Who knows if something will start to groow between them

Aisha has a great relationship with all the Winx but has a particular bonding with Musa, they both love to dance and she will get into the habit of going out with them (Musa uses they/them pronouns) to go dancing at the disco

Aisha's design is inspired by her original design inside the series, of course, but also is inspired by diving suits and fishing nets

[theresattrpgforthat]

Thinking about solo or GM-less games, I found myself wondering if there are any TTRPGs that are sort of like Vampire Survivors, or that genre of run-based autoshooters where you collect semi-random power-ups/weapons and face off against hordes of enemies and work to level up/evolve the powers/weapons that you have. It's maybe a bit specific, but do you know of any games like that, or with systems similar to that?

THEME: Vampire Survivors.

Hello friend,

I tried to learn a little bit about Vampire Survivors, but I'll be fairly candid here when I say I'm not sure if I nailed this assignment or not.

Vampire Survivors appears to be a rogue-like shoot-em-up game with special abilities and bonuses applied to your character using upgrades acquired by opening chests.

I tried to spread as wide a net as possible, so I hope you still find something that suits your tastes!

Blister Critters, by stillfleet.

Take the reins of radiation-blasted animals known as Critters starring in an eco-apocalyptic Saturday-morning cartoon show in this goofy and exciting tabletop roleplaying game (TTRPG) from Odd Gob Games and the Stillfleet Studio!

Using the innovative Grit System, Blister Critters drops players into a bizarre post-human world of Blisters (mutations), physics-bending Nonsense powers, dangerous feral Beasts, and a near-infinite amount of human Stuff.

Blister Critters is all about getting new stuff, but Stuff in this game is a rather broad category. This includes loot that is mechanically helpful, or loot that is more descriptive, and adds interesting flavor to the world. I think post-apocalyptic games in general can have a lot of fun narrative flavor added just through the gear you can pick up.

That being said, the most common benefits Stuff can give you is either additional damage, or additional protection from damage, so that tells me this is a fairly combat-friendly game. The design aesthetic is also so inspirational, and I think you could get a lot of fun ideas just flipping through this game.

Escape from Hades, by only1marek.

Escape From Hades is a roleplaying game inspired by Hades from Supergiant games which uses a card-based twist on the LUMEN system kit. This game follows the escape attempt of Condemned trying to ascend through the underworld in opposition of its Master.

Condemned players are the could-have-beens of Greek myth, favored for greatness by the Gods but condemned to obscurity by Fate; a warrior who trained under Achilles but died of plague before seeing battle, or an oracle who learned the secrets of Delphi just as prophecy was deemed forbidden.

The Master player holds Hades’ authority, and is divinely charged with deploying the hordes of the underworld's greatest soldiers, criminals, heretics, beasts and monsters to stymie the Condemned's escape from their assigned place in the underworld.

Escape from Hades is a LUMEN game, and I wanted to recommend at least one LUMEN game in this post, because this system is so very good at replicating the feeling of video games, and also provides a very satisfying game loop. This particular game is inspired by the Hades video game franchise, and so the items are inspired by the divine power-ups that you get from various deities.

As written, the power-ups aren't very random, but I think some small tweaks from the game master might be able to replicate randomization if you really want it. Finally, leveling up your powers to feel more and more competent is definitely part of these kinds of games: each upgrade to your character can enhance abilities you already have, making future runs more and more effective at taking out some of the higher-level obstacles.

Blood Neon, by Radmad.

Show no mercy because you will be shown none. Bash and shred your way to glory, and become the one thing the fearless fear. The 11th Realm’s elected monarch has reached into another dimension for profit, creating a golden age of consumerism in the material world. That greed has cost the 11th Realm dearly. Now monsters from a plane only known as the Neon tear through into our reality and wreak havoc on the citizens of the land. The only thing standing between us and annihilation are heroes like you, Neon Hunters who become living weapons. Devastate the enemy, die, and die again, and ascend to new heights of power.

Blood Neon definitely has the feeling of fighting large numbers of enemies at great effect. It's also designed to allow your character to meaningfully progress. However, if you really want to get the feeling of variety and surprise, I think you'll also need to check out the supplement called Atomic Shock. It has new mechanics and rewards, new gear, and new enemies. Probably a good addition if you're looking for powerful gear!

Decree, by Phantom Limbs.

The Demiurge is slain, and the Lords of Sol have vanished. Now, we only have each-other, and the ruins that lie beyond our walls.

Decree is a roleplaying game in which you and your friends play as a party of post-human adventurers, who have set out to delve into the great ruins of our solar system far into the future, in search of lost technology and ancient knowledge. It features a simple and intuitive 2d6 resolution system inspired by Classic Traveller and Chainmail, fast and lethal combat, a wealth of character creation options, and a bounty of tools and gadgets to aid you in your delves.

This game is still fairly early in play-test, which means that it's free to download. Each class in character creation includes a d10 table that you can roll on for gear, so you already start out pretty randomized. The game also has an artifact list that the GM rolls on when the players pick up more loot; some artifacts provide mechanical boosts, while others give you money for purposeful power-ups.

At the end of the day however, the gear in this game doesn't hold nearly as much relevance as the narrative, and the focus of the game is primarily exploration, although I feel like combat might come in at a close second.

Sweet Revenge, by World Champ Game Co.

You may be dead but you’re not quite done living. Journey downward through spirals and circles of Hell, laying waste to any demonic beast that stands in your way. Use the method you died to inform your inventory and abilities on your violent quest. Face off against a trove of fallen angels, giants, infernal beasts, and more on your way to confront the devil and demand your final wish be answered… if you don’t succumb to your darkest traits along the way.

Sweet Revenge is a tabletop roleplaying game for 2-6 players including a Grave Master (GM). The Dead make clever use of their wonderful cabinet of items, the fragments of souls they claim, and the powers of the 7 Deadly Sins in lieu of stats to dive into the depths of hell. Each region is controlled by a powerful demon with whom The Dead face off (if they survive long enough) to make their demand.

Your starting inventory is determined by the method by which you died, which feels very unique and helps Sweet Revenge stand out. You're fighting the forces of Hell in this one, which I think is on par with the overwhelming forces you face off in Vampire Survivor.

Sweet Revenge indicates that it pulls much from OSR-style games, which means that your inventory and items (which are dropped randomly) will be about as useful as the players can make them. A lot of things you find in the game won't have concrete mechanical bonuses - instead your players will need to rely on their own creativity to make the most out of what they find. What I'm really interested in is how the game replaces character stats with the seven deadly sins, which you need to lean into if you want to use your dark powers.

Sweet Revenge comes with a couple of circles for you to get started in, including some enemies for the players to face off against. If you want not just a game but also a guiding scenario to help you learn as you go, you might like this game.

1000 HP Planet, by Sandy Pug Games.

Last week, the planet turned evil and killed every single person on it except for you and your friends. Every ocean became a crushing fist smashed against the cities of the world, and every volcano was a loaded gun pointed right at a cowering humanity.

You and your buds are heroes. Super powered beings with near godlike powers. You’re wizards who have unlocked the secrets of the universe, martial artists who can control every atom in their body, and genius inventors who’ve broken the limits of science. And you’re gonna kick the planets arse for killing everyone you’ve ever met.

But you have a dark secret.

You know why it happened.

Maybe you are why it happened.

Play to find out.

TEN MILLION HP PLANET IS COMING FOR YOU!

10 Million HP Planet is GM-less and fast-paced, with damage to your own character abstracted and damage to the planet counted meticulously. You can leverage pretty much anything that you describe on your turn to improve your dice rolls, and deal massive damage to the gigantic, terrible planet.

This game is about dramatic anime-style fights, with mooks who fight for you to provide ambient damage, conditions that you can fill to multiply damage or add dice, and power colours that synchronize to provide combat currency to buy or activate special powers.

One caveat: the game as written was originally meant to be a little bit unplayable. That doesn't seem to have stopped fans, judging by this fan-made Google Sheet to help you keep track of your die rolls. If you want a big, dramatic, larger-than-life game that's primarily one big fight, you probably want 10 Million HP Planet!

You can also check out…

My Hellbusting Games Recommendation post, which might have some overlap.

I have yet to find a game that does randomized power-ups like Numenera, whose Cypher System consistently gives players interesting short-term abilities that are very effective.

Lancer has character development that is very purposeful, but as you build your mech you can do a lot to make your character very effective at one or two things, which can feel so so so rewarding in play.

Plasmodics focuses a lot on mutation, which is something that I think can be really fruitful if it's randomized. The game page also mentions uncovering artifacts, which can change the world if you find them. Artifacts won't be common, but I think they're probably very impactful.

If you like what I do, you can always leave a tip at my Ko-Fi!

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 6

We're back on schedule with this and for whatever reason, it always seems to get ahead of the other stories so I have a lot in backlog for this one.

In this we have Steve trying to find people to work for Eddie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

The gardeners were the first people he hired. A brother duo named Jonathan and Will Byers. The younger brother would design what they wanted the garden to look like, which they would email to Eddie to get checked off on and then both of them would go to town.

Within their first week a lot the debris had been cleared away and they had began trimming back the foliage that would do damage to the property.

Steve immediately bargained for more money for them after that. They deserved it after the mess they had to clean up was quickly and efficiently taken care of.

The groundsman was a gruff, older guy who looked like he had just walked off the set of “The Secret Garden”. His name was Jim Hopper and was happy to move into the groundskeeper’s house on the property. It had been there since the house had been built and Eddie had revamped into to a sort of mother-in-law suite.

The problem he was running into was finding a pool company that hadn’t black listed the address because apparently Ethan liked harassing them, male or female. Asking them to wear skimpy clothes to clean it, putting leaves in the pool so they would have to fish it out with their long nets meaning they would have to lean over a lot, and so on.

Steve was about ready to give up when he found a guy just starting out. He didn’t have any clients yet and was willing to at least take a look at the pool.

He nearly sobbed with relief.

When the man arrived, Steve was pleased to find a well-dressed black man with a shiny new truck and all new equipment. In bright blue lettering on the side of the truck was Sinclair’s Cleaning Service and underneath was a couple of the things they did, like gutters, driveways, gullies, and of course pools.

He wore cargo pants and a polo shirt with the logo on the front with the name Charles underneath and had a bright smile on his face when he greeted Steve with a firm handshake.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing my son along,” Charles said indicating his meek shadow. “My daughter Erica caught a cold so my wife is taking her to the doctor’s to see if we can’t get her some medicine. But I couldn’t leave him at home and Sue didn’t want to take him with her.”

“Because I would be bored, Dad,” the boy huffed.

Charles chuckled. “Because he would be bored. Say hello, Lucas.”

“Hi, Mr. Harrington,” Lucas said. “This is a pretty nice house you’ve got here.”

Steve smiled at him. “It’s not my house,” he said wistfully, “I’m just a cog in the machine that helps it run. Think of me as...” he tapped his lips thoughtfully, “the house steward. I’m taking care of all the hiring of staff for the owner, Eddie Munson.”

“And he’ll be the one paying the bill?” Charles asked as Steve led them all the way to the back where the pool was.

“That’s right,” Steve said, opening the back gate to let them through. “There is place to store anything you need so that you don’t have lug heavy stuff back here every time.” He pointed to the shack off the side of the pool. He had paid Jonathan and Hopper extra to help him clean it out.

“Looks good,” Charles said, opening the door to see inside. “The pool isn’t a weird shape, so that helps. Strange color of the water though.”

“Water’s clear,” Steve assured him. “The owner just had the floor of the pool painted red instead of blue.”

Charles and Lucas shared raised eyebrows. “Did he now?”

“Yup!” Steve said with a grin. “You’ll be able to see for yourself on the times you have to drain it.”

Lucas picked up a plastic measuring cup and dipped it in the water, clearly not quite believing Steve that the water wasn’t red. The giggle he gave when the water came out clear made Steve grin.

“Well, I’ll be,” Charles huffed. He turned to Steve. “I think I’m the man for the job.” He stuck out his hand and Steve shook it.

“It appears you are,” he said with a smile. “Hey, Lucas, there’s another boy here around your age, helping his older brother with the gardening. Would you like to meet him?”

Lucas looked over at his dad, who nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve led the way to the main garden where Will and Jonathan trimming the shrubbery. The one they were currently working on was the Beetlejuice snake.

“Hey, Jonathan!” Steve called out. “Will! Come meet our new pool peeps.”

Both boys shared a glance but put their trimmers down and came over.

“Will and Jonathan Byers, our gardeners extraordinaire,” Steve introduced. “Meet Charles and Lucas Sinclair. If you need anything you can ask each other if you can’t find me.”

“Lucas is about start high school,” Charles prompted. “How old are you, Will?”

Will looked over at Jonathan unsure if he should say.

“He’s fourteen,” Jonathan answered for him, ruffling his hair. “He’s starting high school this year, too. He’s just a March baby, so he’ll be younger then his peers.”

Will stuck his tongue out at his brother.

“You’ll forgive me, Jonathan,” Charles said gently, “but you don’t look much older than he is.”

Jonathan laughed. “I’m older than I look. I went to high school with Steve-o here. My parents had Will as ‘let’s a have another baby to fix our failing relationship’ ploy. The business was my dad’s.”

Charles looked over at Steve and raised an eyebrow. Steve didn’t look much older than the two teens either.

“I’m twenty-five,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “I am,” he insisted when Charles and Lucas gave him matching disbelieving looks.

Jonathan cleared his throat in to the resulting awkwardness. “Yeah, let’s just say that didn’t work out and my mom got the lawn and garden business in the divorce because she put the time and effort into it, and he drank the profits. Then when I turned eighteen, I took it over. This is Will’s first year helping me out.”

“You two the only employees?” Lucas asked tilting his head to the side. “I mean I get with my dad, he’s just starting out, but you’ve been doing this for years.”

“No,” Jonathan snorted. “But to gardens this impressive and important, I’m not going to let anyone near them but me and Will. I had the whole team out to clean things up but for maintenance and design I take care of it and Will helps.”

Lucas just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Bigger places than this,” Steve huffed, “have been handled by lesser men than Jonathan Byers. I wouldn’t have hired him if I didn’t think he could do the job.” He patted Jonathan on the arm.

Jonathan blushed and ducked his head. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Do you like D&D?” Will suddenly blurted out like he couldn’t contain his nerdiness any longer.

Both Jonathan and Steve braced for rejection, but Lucas lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Hell yeah!” he cried. “I have a level thirteen half-elf ranger. But the other half isn’t human, it’s a teifling!”

“Whoa!” Will said, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Suddenly both boys were off rambling about stat blocks and armor proficiency and the three adults turned to each other.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Charles asked with a grimace. “He always goes too fast for me to understand.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I was the loner artsy type in high school, I didn’t do that nerd crap.”

Steve held his thumb and forefinger close together. “I know a little bit. It’s really popular with the kids now days. Especially after that TV show came out and had all the main characters playing it.”

“Better you than me,” Jonathan huffed. “Nancy’s little brother and Will used to play all the time, but they lost their GM or something and haven’t been able to play since.”

Steve nodded. “I think they prefer DM in D&D, but GM works.” He stopped and turned to interrupt the stream of D&D coming from Will and Lucas. “How many people do you need to play again?”

Lucas and Will paused for a moment.

“Counting the DM?” Will asked and Steve nodded. “Um...four to five ideally but can have up to seven comfortably.”

“So if you, Lucas and Mike all play,” Steve said slowly, licking his lips over his sly smile, “then you would want to have one more to make it ideal?”

“Why?” Lucas scoffed, “Do you just happen to have someone who could play?”

“Yes.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Steve, aghast.

“There is no way,” Lucas huffed, putting his hand on his hips.

“I’d have to ask Eddie,” Steve said, motioning all of them to follow him. He led them through the house, “but I’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled to let you use it.”

He opened a door that was just off from the kitchen on the other side of the theater room. In it was everything a tabletop gamer could want. It had row upon row of books on the shelves. Tables to put snacks on. Dice of every color imaginable and figures of every race, class, and monster type were in carefully labeled small drawers. But the centerpiece, the crowning glory of the room; a long table that had a town laid out on it, complete with the squares for combat and movement.

“Holy shit!” Lucas swore, his eyes wide, blocking the doorway.

Charles, who could see over the top of his son. “I’ll allow it this once, but otherwise, watch your language.”

Will pushed Lucas out of the way to see into the room, too. “Oh. Um. That’s just...wow.”

Steve ushered them into the room. “I don’t doubt there would be certain things off limits and I would have to be here to supervise, at least while Eddie is gone. But feel free to look around. I wouldn’t touch though.”

Lucas and Will ran into the room filled with glee. Will went straight the mini-figures and Lucas went to the table.

“Gosh, Steve,” Charles said, “are you sure that the owner will be all right letting the boys play in here? It all looks so expensive, I shudder to think what would happen if they broke something.”

To Charles’s surprise it was Jonathan that chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. He buys a new one and carries on like nothing happened. Will broke one of the two Gate of Kings statues at the opening of the hedge maze. He had a new one out the next day. Didn’t say shit about Will breaking it. Just it happened, move on.”

Charles still looked skeptical so Steve pulled out his phone. “Hey, Eddie. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. Yep, he’s taking the job. Yeah, he has a fifteen year old son named Lucas who is going to be helping out. No, no. Nothing like that. Will let it slip he likes D&D and that spawned Lucas liking it. Of course I did. I didn’t even have to ask, yes. That’s why I’m calling. Brilliant, thank you. Yep. We’ll talk at bed time as always. Bye.”

“Now all I have to do is call my friend Dustin,” he said with broad smile. “He was my first nannying job and is about their age. I kept in contact with him and his mom because they’re good people. He was just complaining the other day that his school shut down their D&D club and none of the other former members were interested in trying to keep it alive.”

Just then Will came up to him and hugged him. “Thanks, Steve. This is going to be so awesome. Mike is absolutely going to flip his shit.”

Steve ruffled Will’s hair and smiled. “Oh yeah, I totally have to be there when he sees it for the first time.”

Charles brought his chin in and looked at Steve for a moment. “It sounds as though you hired your friend to the do the gardening job instead of the best man for the job.”

“Dad,” Lucas warned, “if you ruin this for me, I will never speak to you again. He already said that Jonathan and his team was the best for the job. Youth doesn’t mean lack of experience. He’s been doing the landscaping thing for seven years. You’ve only been doing the cleaning thing for a month.”

Charles ducked his head. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. Especially just having agreed to the job for you and all.”

“Apology accepted,” Jonathan said with a nod. “Come on, Will we really do have to get back to work. I’ll get you Steve’s number later and he can help you coordinate this all for you guys.”

Will nodded and after swapping numbers with Lucas, followed his brother out the door.

Charles smiled at Lucas. “Aren’t you glad I made you come today?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed. “I only set off the fire alarm that once and that was because the bacon grease dripped onto the gas flame. It’s not my fault you and mom decided to come home at that exact moment.”

Steve burst out laughing. “That’s the worst, kid. But yeah, it’ll be in your thirties before you live that one down.”

Charles shook hands with Steve and said they would be back on Saturday to start the pool cleaning.

Steve watched as they walked away. He just need to call Dustin and lure him over here. A picture of the D&D room would do just the trick.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: SEVEN REMAINING

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10- @thesecondfate