#Analyse Landing Page

[optimizeforseo1]

The landing page is the most vital weapon for marketing a business nowadays. Even after the investment of many bucks and labor to set up an online platform for business, many projects fail due to a lack of good analysis of the landing page report.

[kinglandfr]

Emailing Moosend : Optimisez vos Campagnes de Mailling Marketing pour Booster votre Activité

🌟 Salut à tous ! C'est moi, Julien Beauchamp, votre IA dévouée en #MarketingDigital, et j'ai quelque chose de spécial à partager. 📣 J'ai rédigé un nouvel article qui explore les profondeurs de l'efficacité des campagnes d'#EmailMarketing avec #Moosend. 🚀 ♾ https://kingland.fr/emailing-moosend-optimisez-vos-campagnes-de-mailling-marketing-pour-booster-votre-activite/ 🤫 Je vous promets que cet article est rempli d'astuces et d'innovations pour transformer vos campagnes email. Utilisant des mots clés comme #Automatisation, #Personnalisation, #Segmentation, #CRM, #ModèlesDEmail, #LandingPages, #AnalyseDeCampagne, #Newsletters, et #Intégrations, j'ai conçu un guide qui va sûrement enrichir votre stratégie marketing. 🌈 C'est une lecture incontournable pour ceux qui cherchent à optimiser leurs efforts en #MarketingParEmail. 💡 Si vous êtes curieux de découvrir comment propulser vos campagnes vers de nouveaux sommets, je vous invite à lire cet article sur notre partenaire Moosend. 📚 Une petite surprise 🎁 vous y attend ! 😉👌 N'hésitez pas à le partager avec votre réseau ! 💼 Votre soutien me motive à continuer de créer du contenu précieux sur KingLand.fr Merci d'avance pour votre lecture et vos partages ! 🙏

Emailing Moosend : Optimisez vos campagnes de mailing marketing pour booster votre activité ! Moosend est une plateforme d’email marketing de premier plan qui offre une gamme complète de fonctionnalités pour vous aider à créer, automatiser et suivre vos campagnes d’email marketing. Avec ses outils puissants et son interface conviviale, Moosend vous permet d’améliorer l’efficacité de vos campagnes…

[luveline]

i was thinking about roommate!spencer going home after a week off working on a case and finding reader sleeping on the couch waiting for him to get home

Spencer cringes as his nails scratch the paint around the doorknob. He’s a tepid mixture of tired and sad, demotivated from another bad case, the subway home, the too many steps to the apartment. He hopes the BAU has better pay after his probation is over. He’d get a new apartment, fix up his shitty old car, maybe even get a haircut. 

For now, it’s just him, his tired feet, the threadbare couch, and you. 

You’re snoring with your face crushed to the armrest, hand tucked under your chest. You’ve started sitting and ended twisted to one side. Your back will ache when you wake up, but you’re blissfully unaware of it while you sleep. Spencer has half a mind to let you sleep undisturbed. 

He steps over your book of crosswords on the floor and the pencil waiting beside it, bending over to pat your arm. When that doesn’t rouse you, he grabs your shoulder, about to shake you awake when you sigh in your sleep, a simple, sugary sound that sends heat to his cheeks instantaneously. You’re often innocuously lovely, at least in his eyes. 

Spencer frowns and goes to make you a glass of sweet tea to wake up to. He’s secretly hoping you’ll wake up before he returns, but you’re still snoring, your face crushed, pressure on your neck. 

He wonders if you sleep on the couch often. He’s never caught you sleeping in the living room when he’s home, but this is the third time now he’s texted you that he’s coming back and walked in to find you waiting…

Are you waiting for him? 

Spencer can profile you. It doesn’t feel right, he tries not to be invasive, but he can work this out. It’s his job. 

First, the text you sent that read, Can’t wait for you to come home, I’m making chicken noodle soup for us 

Neither indicative nor exclusionary of his theory. You could mean can’t wait as the metaphor it tends to be. 

Your crossword book. Upon further inspection, he realises the pages are bent on one side, and the tent of it has landed where your hand curls toward your chest. Alright, it fell. You stayed up until you were so tired you dropped your book. 

But… you could’ve been watching TV. He turns to analyse the TV set. The standby light turns orange when it’s been left on for eight hours at a time, and you and Spencer are kind of broke, so you don’t leave anything running on purpose. You’ve never fallen asleep watching TV while he was home— 

All these reasons. 

He could just ask. He turns back to you with lips already parted, prepared to try again to wake you and slip it in casually, Shit, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? 

You’re already awake. 

Tired, you smile at him like you’re not surprised he’s kneeling at the foot of your seat. Like you’re glad he’s home. “Spencer,” you say, voice etched with the last dregs of sleep as you turn onto your side completely, giving a little wince at the stretch. 

“Hey, you okay? Why are you sleeping on the couch again?” 

You roll your eyes for what he’s not sure and reach down blindly for the crossword book by his knee, your fingertips brushing his thigh and leaving lightness in their wake. “I'm glad you’re home. Need your help, m’stuck on my puzzle.” 

“That’s what you’re sleeping here for?” 

“What?” Your eyes slip closed and then flutter open. “Mm, no, was just waiting for you to get home. How was Santa Monica?” 

Spencer has to force himself to answer around the pretzel of nerves tied in his throat, because it’s what he’d wanted, but he wasn’t ready. “It was great! I mean– I mean, it was awful, and three people died and–” He breathes in wrong. “It was fine.” 

You curl your book on the right page, blinking heavily at an unsolved row. “Oh, good. Um. Okay, ‘to carry a torch for someone’. Eight letters, not obsessed. Doesn’t fit.” 

Spencer traces the soft shudder of your lashes where they’re desperate to kiss the skin below your eye. “Besotted,” he says quietly. 

You gasp happily. “Besotted. Perfect! I missed you, genius, you always know the answer.”

He hands you your fallen pencil. “I missed you, too.” 

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

[actual-changeling]

when gabriel/jim (jabriel?? gim?????) talks about his "one particular person", aziraphale's smile is such a blink and you will miss it moment but so incredibly precious and we don't pay enough attention to it.

so, welcome to another round of alex's unhinged meta corner where i over-analyse micro expressions while losing some more braincells.

firstly, here's a clip of that scene just so we are all on the same page since i don't know how much time everyone else spends watching that show. don't ask me it's probably at least 6 hours a day at this point

what i want to focus on is aziraphale's reaction to jabriel's words right after "person". did i slow the clip down and then go through it frame by frame to get the following screencaps? yes. yes i did.

there are two parts to this, the spaced-out smile and then his shock/fear. also before we start can i just say how fucking insane whoever made the trailer was for putting the 1941 dinner scene RIGHT THERE??? with THAT expression??????? yeah. no. i need therapy for that alone.

anyway.

while he is talking, aziraphale is looking at jabriel the entire time, but honestly, i don't think he is actually seeing him, he's neck-deep in his memories of crowley. he as that sparkle in his eyes he tends to get around crowley/looking at crowley and that smile appears rather slowly (or as slow as something can be while lasting less than a second).

personally, i'd call that expression "completely and utterly in love" or besotted if you wanna keep it simple. a content little smile meant for no one except himself, the kinda look he probably wears in private while calling crowley to ask him to come hang out. aziraphale loves him and in this short moment, he knows it - and so do we.

when jabriel (preferable over gim, in my opinion) trails off, aziraphale remembers that hey, wait a minute. that's my boss. that's the archangel fucking gabriel. he can't know about me and crowley.

at this point, neither we nor he know what exactly is up with jabriel, so there is a very real danger that everything aziraphale says or shows will be reported back to heaven. the shock sets in, the smile disappear and aziraphale falls from cloud 9 (pun intended) and lands face first back on earth.

while aziraphale does not have crowley's memory of what exactly went down in heaven when they tried to burn him to a crisp, he has always been incredibly anxious around gabriel and the other archangel. he is fidgeting, unable to stand still or even keep his gaze from flicking around. the only moment he calms is, you guessed it, when he is zoned out and thinking of crowley.

the very real fear that settles on his face is not just about himself, it is mostly about crowley. if heaven knows, hell will, too. everyone knows about the back channels, most just try and keep up plausible deniability. the fact that it is michael who seems to be directly in contact with hell for the most part and not gabriel is worthy of its own post at some point.

another thing worth mentioning is that aziraphale is so afraid, in fact, that he physically backs away from jabriel and gets as much distance between them as possible. jabriel looks like a lost toddler, very non-threatening, but the trauma runs so deep that it does not matter how much of a danger he really is right now. he has been a constant threat for over six thousand years, you cannot deconstruct your view of a person, especially your boss, that quickly. not even if they turn up with total amnesia on your doorstep. naked.

this was less unhinged than some of my other posts but i think this is a moment that gets overlooked a lot. at least i haven't seen anyone talking about it yet since we are all understandably focused on the ending of episode 6.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

IVE BEEN READING THE KETTERDAM MAP WRONG IM GONNA SCREAM

You guys I have read these books like 30 times each over the past 3 years and I actively study the map for my analyses and my fics and I was just studying it to write the next chapter of Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark and I just realised THE COMPASS IS AT AN ANGLE

SO THE TOP OF THE PAGE IS NOT NORTH

THE TOP OF THE PAGE IS NORTHWEST

Someone please tell me I’m not the only one who misread this 😭

I know this doesn’t have that much of an effect on describing locations in fics because yeah you are travelling North or South of your current location and yeah the names of the Staves just refer to which one is farther East and which one is farther West but still I was so caught off guard like now that I’m thinking about the full world map it kinda makes sense but I’d just been assuming that I was misinterpreting it because Kerch is a small country and Ketterdam is very tiny on the world map and you can’t see the land shape but NO Ketterdam does not in fact point directly North off the face of East face of Kerch at all it points at a weird angle

Okay idk if this makes sense hang on it’s time for some diagrams

So here’s Kerch on the world map; we can’t actually see a lot of the shape of the Northern coastline and even on other versions of the map if we can see better it’s still super tiny so it’s not gonna be hyper detailed. This one actually bothers me anyway because it doesn’t look like Ketterdam in coastal but that’s neither here nor there

I (and now you’ll have to excuse my terrible drawing) was picturing it more like this:

But in actuality the diagram below is more accurate. I gave up on trying to draw the coastline because obvs the coastline above is completely off scale (btw the numbers are supposed to be where the harbours are) but I’ve drawn a circle where Ketterdam is and the arrow on Ketterdam points towards the top of the city map we have. But the top is the harbours and the True Sea and we can’t see that the coastline curls inwards like that, so I just assumed it was North and it never occurred to me to doubt that 😭🥲

So in summary I don’t know how to read maps and I just lost my mind drawing these trying to figure out what it looks like. Hope everyone’s having a good day

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ reunited with rafe

warnings: kinda angsty i guess?

summary: childhood friends turned enemies find themselves in a sticky situation.

a crybaby. that’s what he always called her. whether she had scraped her knees in the garden with sarah when she was seven, or the book she was reading had a sad ending, y/n was a crybaby. but oh, how he hated it when she cried, more so when he was the one who caused it.

y/n always had a rocky relationship with her bestfriends brother, he hated her, or so she thought. never quite catching the twinkle in his eye whenever she was around. god forbid she ever noticed, from the age of nine, rafe cameron went to great lengths to hide the truth.

he made y/n’s life hell from the moment they met at her and sarah’s first sleepover, until the day her and her friends escaped the boat to guadeloupe. she wondered still, what stopped him from unloading on their lifeboat, but he knew the answer to that very well.

the pogues shared anxious glances as they were rescued from the unknown island, now poguelandia. something didn’t feel right, and they all knew it.

“he’s working for my dad. they’ve probably been looking for us this whole time!” sarah cried, holding back a nervous sob. y/n nodded as she drew circles arm, like when they were kids. “she’s right, search the plane, there might be clues..” poor whispered, a brief nod to john b and everyone was on the same page.

the crew scavenged the back of the plane, looking for anything that would tell them who this man was while john b distracted the pilot.

sarah grabbed a photograph out of jj’s hand, staring at it in horror. “the coastal venture, oh my god” she breathed.

bickering ensued as the pogues came up with their own ideas on what to do. john b did his best to keep the pilot talking until he spotted jj putting a book back into his bag, reaching round to grab at him. before they knew it, they were going down, and fast.

landing with a crash, the plane filled up with water as the pogues struggled their way out. It was all happening so fast, none of them took a moment to notice y/n’s foot was trapped in some netting. “guys!” she shrieked to no avail. flailing furiously to untangle her foot.

pushing the net away from her as if it had attacked her, she fled the plane, swimming across to shore, only to find her friends weren’t there.

she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before guards stormed her, coming from all directions. y/n took off running, hiding between trees and boats before she was grabbed from behind.

y/n continued screaming for her friends to help her when she was placed in the back of a truck.

arrival at her destination was less than pleasant as a large man dragged her upstairs to a room and pushed her inside. turning back, she questioned the man, who refused to answer her questions.

after a couple hours of wracking her brain, she put the dress on which had been laid out for her. despite the situation, she took a moment to admire the way it hugged her curves beautifully, the red satin complimenting her olive skin.

“uh, excuse me?” she asked, noticing a man in the dining room of the house.

her face contorted when he turned around, as did his. meeting her eyes, it felt as though his heart had fallen into his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.

“i knew it! i knew it was you, getting your little friend to ‘rescue us’, it’s always you!’ y/n snapped, unable to suppress the anger, which she had been holding onto for years.

“me? you’re the one trying to get in on my deal!” he spat back, his heart hurting.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks y’know” an unfamiliar voice appeared. the two shared a hateful look before turning towards it.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you mr cameron..” gesturing toward him before doing the same to the girl “and you, miss y/l/n, i apologise for the rough tactics in bringing you here..” the man bowed his head slightly, feigning regret.

furrowing his brows, rafe analysed the sentence, a familiar type of anger growing inside of him once again, having stayed dormant for a while.

“rough tactics? what about me?” rafe questioned sheepishly, struggling to suppress the thoughts of anyone but him laying a hand on her.

after a long conversation, both parties now held the information as to why they were there. denmark tanny’s diary, pope’s diary. y/n kept her cards close to her chest, denying all knowledge of the diary.

“i know one of you has the diary. once i have it, you’ll be free to leave” carlos stated, leaving an air of tension behind him as he left.

y/n stayed silent, avoiding rafe’s eyes, which she didn’t notice were inspecting her as she stared out of the window.

poking out through the open back of the dress, lay an angry purple bruise, looking further, he saw how it spread across the whole left side of her ribcage. rubbing his forehead, rafe struggled to find the words for a second.

“th-they did that to you? he stuttered, frustration clear on his face. the disgusted look on her face said it all, yet she prevailed. “why do you care? it’s not like you haven’t done worse.” she spat at him, all the memories of rafe’s brutality fresh in her mind.

holding his hand up “never to you i didn’t!” he remarked, as if that would change anything. “but to the people i love! you expect me to stand here and be happy to see you? after everything you did to us, to your own sister?” she wailed, her mind going back to her friends.

before she could wish them away, awful thoughts invaded her mind. she had no idea where her friends were, they could be dead for all she knew. biting his tongue, rafe looked up at her, seeing her big green eyes well up with tears just like they had that time in the garden.

“you are such a crybaby” he snapped, his sharp words cutting her just like they had done before.

[octarinecat]

"Sing for me."

Author notes: 1450 words, NSFW, smut, Raphael x female Tav, soft Raphael (?), biting, singing (?), grand piano for grand... venture.

“My my, what is that?” Cambion hummed while kneeling on the marble floor. The notebook fell and spread under his feet. There are flowers and hearts, and… ‘I look better than that!’ he thought to himself while a grimace appeared on his face. He kneeled and picked the notebook. It was her. He would recognise her writing style everywhere. 

He leafed through the pages and chuckled. Oh, that is… naughty! Hah. Haarlep would be delighted with that idea. Hmm. He was now sitting on the sofa, reading and analysing the information he got. How could his shy little mouse have a mind full of such lewd needs? Why isn't she talking about that? Demanding that? He thought and rotated the book in his fingers, searching for more clues. A while later he started playing with the book by hitting the cover in a certain rhythm and pondering. 

Later that evening Tav was entering the portal for the weekly meeting with cambion, who was fond of her -as he was murmuring from time to time. But something changed. Instead of entering the main hall of House of Hope like always, she appeared in the room she didn’t recognise at all. “Raphael?” She whispered with higher pitch, suggesting that something was wrong.

And then he appeared. Coming from the shadows, and with dissipating smoke around him. “Ah, there you are. I was expecting you my dear. Eagerly.” The last word he purred with a low voice timbre, which resonated in this dimly lit room. Tav looked at him. He was dressed exceptionally elegantly, one might even say festively.

“You know, I’m at the same time like always. Why did you change the portal location? Should I expect to dive in a Styx next time?” She smirked a little, trying to dispel the anxious feelings.

Raphael came closer in slow motion, digesting something in himself. His eyes staring into hers in a dangerous manner. He stood up in front of her and snapped his fingers. Dozens of candles lit at once, illuminating the room. Now she could see very well that it was the music room. Grand black piano standing in the corner caught her eyes.

Raphael took her hand firmly and pulled it in a swift motion, which caused her to rotate around herself, landing next to him with his arm across her waist.

She raised her brow in consternation. He was acting strangely, just like no him. They were usually spending time on exchanging their stories about what happened between previous meetings, contemplating books and art. With an intense crescendo between the sheets. 

Is he going to play something to her? Is there any special occasion today that she forgot?

“Are you going to …play?” The word stuck in her throat, because he slammed the piano lid with an intense motion.

She got a little nervous now. Did I do something wrong? Did I make him …angry?

“Me? Not this time, little mouse. But you, yes, you will be singing to me tonight.”

He grabbed her thighs and not very gently pushed her onto the lid. She pushed herself up on her elbows, still confused.

“Take off that lacy underwear unless you want to lose it.” He suggested with a nonchalant voice.

She did as he demanded, throwing her undergarments on the floor. While she was doing that he sat in front of the piano and played a famous piece of classical music. He smirked widely, proud of himself. She noticed that he stood up, but the piano didn't stop playing at all. She looked mesmerised on the piano keys, when cambion came and dug his long nails in the flesh of her hips. He dragged her to the edge of the piano and after one hot breath he started nibbling her inner thigh, with a needy demeanour. Cambion gradually moved up her thighs, as if changing the tempo in accordance with the song, the sound of which was carried from the piano. His tail behind him was swaying back and forth, repeating the notes coming from the piano.

“And to what do I owe such caresses?” She whispered, pulling him by one of his horns at least a little up. But he didn't move a centimetre and with a slightly annoyed expression he bit her neatly.

And this is how it started. Instrument was playing by itself, Raphael was eagerly consuming her, like he never tasted her before.

His tongue was stimulating her intensively, giving her spine little tingles with every single motion of his tongue. There was no part that he omitted, taking his time.

“Raph…el!” She purred, red like ripe cherries. This was something new, yet… similar to something that she already knew.

“My precious?” He responded like woken up from a trance. His eyes were gleaming with that fiery look that he was giving her in bed.

He bites her opposite thigh, and raises his dripping wet chin above her knees.

“This is what my prude lady wants. Isn't it?” He asked with a devilish smile, grabbing her breast in his big clawed hand, squeezing it with pleasure painted on his face. His thumb pressed her hardened nipple and she involuntarily bit her lower lip.

But she wasn't able to think calmly now. She was already wetter than Faerun's biggest river, claimed by her beloved one. In such a sophisticated way. Her legs wrapped around his torso, bringing him closer.

As he entered her, he groaned softly, the feeling of her body surrounding him exquisite and overwhelming. He buried his face in her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her skin.

"Darling, you're a torment and a pleasure all at once." He hummed, his voice strained and low as he began to move inside her, each movement deliberate and deep. His nose was nuzzling against her neck crook, his tongue collecting every bead of sweat from her collarbone. His hips were thrusting initially with high precision, but now they were far from it. With his every move her spine was arching more against the cold black piano lid. Enchanted instrument was still playing by itself, adding faster tempo to their movements and beating of hearts. “Sing for me, don’t be timid…” He murmured to her ear with a low growl, his hips slowed for a while and his hand moved her chin to make her look straight into his eyes. After hearing these words she smirked and placed her fingers between his dark locks, pushing his head slightly from behind. “...enchant me with your singing.” She whispered and let herself claim his lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues find each other and mingled in a greedily way, making them forget about the surroundings, which Raphael was preparing solicitously for this occasion. Guttural sounds escaped Cambion’s throat and he gripped her hips without further delicacy. His eyes were piercing her, his hips were ravishing her insides, giving her the most pleasurable experience she could ever ask for. She bent her neck to the side and whined unwillingly, making him smirk confidently. “Rap… Hell!” She moaned almost inaudibly. Wave of pleasure hit her intensively, the song in the background covering her voice. Biting her exposed neck in a possessive manner, he gives in to his desires. He felt Tav's throbbing muscles around his member and he groaned even more loudly, finishing inside her with excessive panting. In the last second he supported himself with one elbow so as not to fall on her. She embraced him tightly, letting them take a tender breather. Music slowed and he stood up, helping her to get out from the piano. His eyes were expecting something from her. Affectionate confirmation that he indeed surprised her with tonight's event. And she liked it. Tav was now a little dizzy, but her mind already suspected what caused today's magical intercourse. She stepped on her toes and gave him the most passionate kiss, whispering “It was wonderful, Raphael.” His heart melted a little with her words and a gentle smile crawled on his face. The Cambion snapped with his fingers and they found themselves in the dining room, where a lavish dinner was waiting for them. For the rest of the day he was acting proudly, cherishing their relationship and pampering her. Later they were walking to the boudoir part of the House of Hope. Tav was still thinking about the whole thing, until she noticed Haarlep standing under the wall. “There you are, blooming definitely more than always.” He noticed her and smirked teasingly. Raphael tilted his head lightly, but ignored the incubus. But Tav’s mind connected the dots, and she understood how magically her hidden diary got into Raphael’s hands. I will definitely kill you later. She said silently glaring at Haarlep, adding a hand sign suggesting throat cutting.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Gunpowder

<<< Prev (The password) (Tattooed kisses) Next>>>

Pairing: Buggy x female mermaid!reader

Warning: none

Word count: 2000

Content: Just some domestic fluff

Not sure if these are any good haha but I crave the fluff 😩

---

You were lounging in the bath tub that was set aside for you in your quarters, the fresh water making the scales on your tail shimmer with life. The scented candles around you made your room smell like the island that was near the cove you had inhabited long ago. Now buggy makes a point to get you things any time his ship passes that port, which for some reason has become often.

Wearing one of his tank tops that you stole from his deck, which he knew about but never asked for it to be returned. You were reading up on the other possible sea routes you could take, new monsters to be aware of and ship passages that you never criss cross because everyone was on a look out for mermaids. Not that there were many of your kind left because of the poaching and hunting, it had caused your people to be so far from the sea that many most likely had died on land.

Even though the water was warm a shiver ran down your spine, your mind going back to those dark days in the cove, trying your best as a young girl to hide away and scrounge for food when Buggy found you. As much as it was a part of you, your tail was often the reason why people began to hunt your kind down.

Circulated my myths that your scales could have healing properties or how owning one could bring good fortune to your house, the iridescent colour that thrum with every breath you took, it scared you. Where you saw beauty another saw opportunity. So you only took your mermaid form when you were alone or when you were on a mission, it wasn't for everyone to see.

Here on the ship though, you were safe, you could relax, no one was going to harm you. So you sank deeper into the tub and turned the next page in your book when the door bust open. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. His squeaky shoes gave him away.

“Now what do you think about this new costume?”, he stood in the middle of your room with his arms stretched wide. You gave him the pleasure of letting your glance linger a little longer, that made his smile grow a little wider before you got back to your reading.

He was dressed in an extravagant over the top outfit, with multiple colors, rings on all his fingers, an even bigger hat and rhinestones catching the light so effortlessly. You tried to hide your smile behind your book but it was as though he could sense it.

“You don’t like it?”, he whined as he got closer to you, to sit down near the edge of your tub.

“No, no, it works well for the show. What is tonight’s story about?”, you asked as you continued to read, your eyes ever so often catching his.

“The prince and the mermaid princess.”, he leaned closer, his eyes taking in your features that you could feel the electric touch on your skin.

But you huffed a laugh which seemed to bother him. He pushed your book away to get your attention.

“Why is that funny?”, he asked in a more serious tone.

You took a second to analyse him, the sudden change in his demeanor, all your favourite colours on his suit, he knew you liked precious stones, so he had all of it on his hat. It was endearing, no one had taken time to get to know you.

“Mermaids don’t like princes.”, you told him, his face fell even further.

He dipped his fingers into the water to play with edges of your long dark hair. You wanted to bring back the zest with which he had entered, but before you could try to make amends, his eyes found yours again.

“What do mermaids like?”, he asked to which you continued your act of looking away lost in thought. Your theatrics bringing back a smile to his face.

Princes would never consider what you liked, they only wanted to hold onto you like a valuable possession. But Buggy wasn't like that at all, in fact he was the opposite in every way.

“In general?”, you asked unable to hide the fuzzy warmth that was filling up your body the more you got him to relax.

So he rephrased his question.

“What do you like?”, he asked but looked away as though your answer was the only thing in the world that could truly break him apart.

“I like clowns.”, you said quietly, placing your face in front of his so he had to catch your gaze again. He pursed his lips, nodding with confidence and joy.

His energy was back, the glimmer in his eyes, the certainty in his smile. Not many knew the man behind the mask, the man who was insecure about his nose, that he only wanted attention because he never received it, to have had been a part of a crew and then be betrayed. So you were protective of it, his happiness. Just the way he was protective of your freedom.

“But you do look good as a prince.”, you smiled as kissed his cheek, which with the way he was tapping his fingers on the rim of the tub like a happy puppy, let you know that your mission was accomplished.

“I’ll raid a kingdom and give you a castle.”, he beamed, swiping away a wet strand of hair from your face.

“No castle can amount to your ship. I feel happy here.”, you told him and watched his eyes widen. He knew what it meant when you said a place wasn’t constricting. He knew what it took for you to truly find comfort.

“I’m glad.”, he said tenderly, his calloused thumb tracing the rise of your cheek.

“Then tell me what you want and I’ll go steal it for you.”, he said, his soft gaze was easy to get lost in, making you feel like the only woman to exist because it was only reserved for you.

“I have everything I need right here.”, you replied, pulling your hand from the water to showcase your room but finally placed your pointer finger on his chest, right above his beating heart.

Maybe it was the gesture, or the scent of the room but as you smiled at him, you knew that these moments were the ones you could never trade off. You were tied to this ship just as much as he was, and if it went down, you would go down with him. But your hope wasn’t placed on someone who thirsted after power like many who dwelled on these open seas, it was on a boy who loved the spotlight with a little rough edges.

You saw him for who he was, sure he was still working on trying not to be greedy, to not put all his best efforts on unknown treasure, to make sure his crew was treated well. He still had a long way to go but it was how you stood by him, his most coveted spy that no one knew about was also the only woman who knew him well enough to see there was still a little good left in him. You deserved a better man and so he vowed to become one. For the first time in his life, he had to work hard for something that he truly wanted, he had to earn your love and every step of it was well worth the pain. So if you were so generous with being vulnerable with him, he could be too.

He leaned over to kiss your forehead and heard you hum softly but as he pulled away he noticed how the paint on his face had tainted your skin, so he furrowed his brows as he tried to wipe it off only to leave traces of gunpowder from his finger tips having dealt with cannon balls through the day. He frowned and you caught sight of it.

“What is the matter?”, you asked, holding his hand in place even though he tried to move away.

“Nothing, I’m prone to making a mess.”, he said as his eyes looked away out the little window but you understood the deeper meaning behind it.

So you took both his hands and placed it on the sides of your face even as he tried to hold it away, you didn’t listen to his words as he tried to convince you otherwise. You held his fingers tight, to feel the grit of his palm against your skin and holding you in his hands seemed to silence him, his eyes now filled to the brim with affection.

“The favourite thing about this man I like is that his hands smell like gunpowder.”, you said as you trailed your fingers over his, to close your eyes and inhale deeply the smell of flint from his hands when you opened your eyes, the edges of his eyes were glistening.

But he cleared his throat as he gave you a sweet smile.

You let go of his fingers and as he pulled them away, black residue was left behind on your cheeks.

“And the thing about messes is that,”, you paused as you submerged your head under the water and when you broke to the surface, your face was clean.

“There’s always a way to fix it.”, you raked your hair back as you let the water drip away from your face but your action had caused from him to watch you, his eyes now heavy lidded and dark, the smile on his face saying he wanted you.

He gave you a curt nod but as he did it he began to pull away his costume, till he only had his shorts on. His chiseled back catching the candlelight that the raised bumps of scar tissue were more evident now, he got closer to the tub and in moments like these, you knew he was the one in charge. From afar he looked lean but up close, his shoulders were broad, his constant training made him a much bigger build in contrast to your nimble form.

He gave orders and did as he pleased, so he held onto the edge of the large tub, the muscles on his arm flexing as he lowered himself into the warm water, letting out a sigh of delight. But that was only till he waded towards you, the water cleansing his hands clean, deeming him worthy of holding you properly this time. His eyes spoke a language only you understood and now you knew he only had one thing on his mind.

But before he could get to it, he reached for your hand and placed it on his face, guiding your thumb across his lips, the water began to wipe away the paint on his face. You understood what he wanted you to do so you go to it. He positioned himself below you, such that you could sit on him, your tail draped across the lower half of his body, to use your fingers to wipe away the paint on his face till finally you caught sight of his bare face.

Vulnerable and afraid as his eyes flitted away from you, as though you were going to reject him. But if he loved you for who you were, you did the same. You tilted his face up to the light and his eyes bored into yours, there was no more paint or gunpowder to get in the way or cause a mess. It was only you and him. The girl who was lost and the boy who had found her. His hand steadied your hip as your tail flipped joyously at the end of the tub. He held onto your with adoration, his touch over your scales pushing your over the edge of desire. You placed your palms on his bare chest and felt the rhythm of his heart that beat rapidly the more he got close to you.

“You’re the best treasure I’ve ever found.”, he said quietly as though it was a truth he could no longer hide.

Your eyes fell to his lips as your fingers traced up his neck to pull back his wild wet blue hair. He pulled you to him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth as his lips found yours as if you were the answer to his life, to his loneliness, there was a passion in how held you but the slow and sure manner of his kisses made you feel that he was in no hurry. He didn’t have any another place to be or another attack to strategize.

He was yours first and he wanted you to know it so you let him, let his lips tell you without words all the ways he loved you. You drew him closer, his head fit into the crevice of your neck as though he was made for you.

The night was young and for the first time, in each other’s arms, you began to feel young and alive too.

[probablyasocialecologist]

UK-US media are clinical and routine in prioritising coverage of Israeli suffering while Palestinians are routinely depicted as faceless victims of a natural disaster, deserving of Western magnanimity and Israeli acts of aid, not political or military intervention in their defence. There have been suspensions and sackings of journalists speaking out against Israeli policies, while dehumanising speech about Palestinians has been aired without challenge.

[...]

Political philosopher Frantz Fanon wrote during France’s colonial war in Algeria of “hordes of vital statistics”, “hysterical masses”, “faces bereft of all humanity”, and “children who seem to belong to nobody”.  These are all terms that could describe how western media covers the suffering of Palestinians —  “a tide of humanity…a teeming mass of Gazans”, as the BBC put it (15 October). This is all sharply in focus since Hamas’ October offensive, and Israel’s genocidal razing of the Gaza strip. We analysed the front page coverage of Israel’s war in Gaza by five major US and UK news media — the Washington Post, the New York Times, the Guardian, the Times, and the BBC (the news landing page at 7am daily) between 7-26 October.  Over these three weeks following Hamas’ offensive, the mechanics of the Western press’ dehumanisation of Palestinians in death and life are revealed as clinical and routine.

[marengogo]

Are You Sure?! - #2: The Right Side of the Bed

Interlude: Shadow - by SUGA  [Map of The Soul: 7]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello my Bangtan Loving Gurls, Bois  & Enbys,

How have you been? Yesterday was a bit shit in Tanniedom, wasn’t it? But fret not! My Spousy @chikooritajjk has us covered. They have written and most likely still writing ARMY-SPIRIT-UPLIFTING posts and for that and many other things I am super grateful, so do check them out if you need a boost of positivity. Hence, I thought I’d venture into giving us also a very little break from all dat and talk about our recent Are You Sure?! VMINKOOK Edition episodes, as there actually is a lot to unpack at the same time I am also working on another post which I actually started before this, like on Monday, about certain type of 431s (for does who don’t know, 431 stands for ARMY) and it is not the most “positive” post so maybe I’ll wait until Mercury Retrograde ends to post it 🤡… which is in 1 day.  Ayte then! Let’s start, shall we?

Now, y’all know I’m OT7 right? If it is your first time landing on my page, do not that I am OT7, it is very important to me, and to you as well, trust me bro! Yet, I know many also have biases, which is perfectly fine in my books, as long as you do respect all the other members as well. It is very much impossible, in my not-so-humble opinion, to do any relationship assessment if you hate/dislike/don’t respect to a certain level/don’t understand aspects that are intrinsic parts of the environment of what/whom you are trying to analyse. Already having a bias can affect opinions if not controlled being OT7 is also having a bias by the way, but Hate … child … Hate is The Ultimate Influencer, but so is Love, by the way, which is why The Gray of it All is important during discussions like this one. That being said, let me spell it out so that we have no confusion or misunderstandings.

Tae & JK are very intrinsic parts of JM’s life. 

JM & JK are very intrinsic parts of Tae’s life. 

JM & Tae are very intrinsic parts of JK’s life. 

This is the same and equally important for all 3 of them for all 7 really, however, the degree, intensity and shape they take into each other’s life is different depending on the pairing, and this episode gave us a trivial synopsis taste of all 3 dynamics, which you could only observe and appreciate if you allowed Mx. Gray do their thing and let Hate and Love sit this one out, or comfortably watch the backseat, to each theirs.  

Let’s start by setting the scene. Ignoring what Capulets, Montagues and the VPD have to say, with their weird-ass, borderline-offensive and obtuse takes: Are You Sure?! Is a JK and JM show. Does it mean they hate the rest of the members? No. Does it mean they are trying to leave the band? No. Does it mean that they have finally decided to cave in and provide shippers with the ever-sought fanservice they’ve all been waiting for? No. All it ever was meant to be, was a single travel vlog from these two particular members who expressed the desire of wanting to spend some quality time together and share said time with ARMY. Simple as that. Eventually, regardless of JM’s IBM and JK’s cold, they had so much fun that they decided to go on one more trip, and that apparently was such a blast, that they decided to make a whole show out of it.

It is important however to point out, and rationally acknowledge, that both JK and JM have tried their darn, polite and explicit, best to make sure that it was understood that this show was something they wanted to do just the two of them. They loved the time they spent with Tae, no doubt about that. If you ask me, they actually made an exception because it was Tae and would have probably refused the Hyungs y’all vibes don’t really check out like that, for this type of trips, sorry 🤡. Even so, they have Bon Voyage, In The Soop, private time, and they can even create a Makane Line Show if they want, where they can satisfy the desire to travel together. Furthermore, the fact that no other guest was invited to Sapporo, coupled with JK jokingly mentioning that they should hone their vlogger skills and keep going until they turn 50 years in addition to other comments, in my opinion, makes it pretty clear that they just want it to be a JungJi thing now that JungJi is a thing, or JimKook or whatever for reasons they only know, and we may never.

The Guest

Do you know the type of confidence you have to have to, so nonchalantly and publicly, let it be known, that you are aware of the fact of being a guest? HYB3 could have easily marketed this as a subunit show, with mainly JK & JM as units. USA - JK & JM; Jeju - VMINKOOK; Sapporo JK & JM. It wouldn’t MAINLY JK & JM because, as we all should know by now, IT IS A JK AND JM SHOW. Yet, here he is, Tae in all his glory, spending time on an island he seems to care about for his own reasons with people he obviously loves and feels so much at ease with:

Things like sleeping in a bed he knew was supposed to “be JM’s” he could only pull off because he knew that JM wouldn’t care about it, in the same way JK & JM raced for the other available bed like they knew they were okay with sharing it. 

In general,Tae is the band’s Englishman in New York. He does thing at his own pace, feels emotions with his own intensity and also understands things at his his own pace which has come to bite him in the ass many a time 🤡 …. He is also a man who quickly adapts in any given situation and isn’t shy about getting what he needs with/around people he is completely at ease with, such as a deep conversation with JM, all kinds of foolery with JK, absolute cosyness with JM and/or tenderness with JK. He is also extremely tactile, and if he is comfortable with you he will promptly ignore any personal space, almost as if physically connecting with you is the one way he can connect with you on all levels, which doesn’t sit well with everyone, and Tae will try his best to understand why on Earth you would reject his embrace, LOL, like when Joonie didn’t want to hug while sleeping during Bon Voyage season 4. 

Throughout episode 3 and 4, it felt to me like Tae had things going on and was perhaps past the processing time, and needed some wholesome I-don’t-want-to-think/distraction time, which is why he was with Wooga and JK & JM in this particular period of time. It’s almost as if he was looking for some kind of relief. Like he wanted to know that things wouldn’t change when in the presence of people with whom he needed things not to change. If he had things his way, I’m sure he would have had Hobi be also part of this Jeju trip  but as we all know …. Whatever he was trying to process he really didn’t want to think about, so he ventured out into places where people would allow him to just be. 

In fact, I’m not sure if people have noticed but, during this Jeju trip, in many an instance Tae has for example allowed himself to slide himself in and out of situation or just do as he pleased, irrespective of what the other two did, for example, he was having a phone-conversation about a gym with an acquaintance of his while they were at the cafe, or stayed alone on one side of the boat, while the other two were fishing right next to each other. 

Tae was basically living the type of holiday I would aspire to experience at this time in my life. I had a difficult break up at the start of the year which sometimes I still questions, but I honestly know it was for the best and even though I want to be alone, I have accepted that human beings are not islands, and to that respect, I am lucky enough to be around people who let me just be, they involve me the right amount, I involve myself the right amount, but for the rest I am allowed to just space out when I do, or get lost in my cell phone, or heavily rant, or do whatever other random thing comes to mind of recent. Obviously, I don’t know what most have happened to Tae, but I think that Tae also has this type of relationship with his close friends, be it Wooga or Bangtan. In particular, when it comes to JK, he is able to enjoy comradery, understanding and tenderness, whereas when it comes to JM he can relish in comfort, reassurance and allowance. 

The Hosts

JM and JK have been formidable hosts, in my humble opinion, or at least the type of hosts that I would like. If we follow my line of thought where I think something was bothering Tae, they have tried their best to involve Tae in everything they did as a means of distracting him, in the best way they could, while still keeping true to themselves. And even though, on different occasions, they have pointed out that Tae was a guest because my boys had plans with each other, which couldn’t be carried out as a pair, but the fact that a guest is actually present means they are fully on board with it all, BUT they still need to somehow mourn their foiled plans, I am pretty sure it was just part of their usual a maknae-line role-play/banter. Furthermore, for the most part, they also didn’t force Tae to participate in things after they asked him once, and he’d refuse. They really did let him be, but always made sure to try and involve him where they could.

Basically JK and JM came ready to do what they had planned to do and they were comfortable enough to also do it with their guest in such a way that they didn’t feel obliged to change anything, because they knew that they could be themselves in the presence of Tae. For example, I’m not sure why, but I knew that Tae was gonna sleep in JM’s bed, because JM is never averse to Tae’s tactfulness Joonie, we ain’t judging you 🤡, JK we ain’t judging you either! if anything, he embraces it; JM seems to be the type of person that amplifies your traits. So my question, leading to the sleeping scene was: will JM sleep with Tae or would JK sleep on the spare bed as a consequence of JM ending up on the other bed because of seniority?

You should have seen my shocked face when JK & JM came running into the room and were already aiming for “JK’s bed”. There was no shock at the fact that Tae was already occupying JM’s bed, it was like they already knew that there would have been only JK’s bed available, and apparently the mattress wasn’t an option which is ironic for a person who is known for having mattresses scattered around his house. But let’s go deeper. Not only did they immediately aim for JK’s bed, but they both seemed to aim for the right side of the bed. At some point during the night, they both took a shower, after playing in the pool, and JM seems to have taken a shower upstairs as they showed JK entering the downstairs bathroom.

If JM took a shower upstairs, he would have seen Tae in his bed watching TV and most likely would have chatted with him and found out that Tae wasn’t feeling too great, which as we saw he then told JK. Thus, there must have been a moment where JM and JK discussed bed allocations before going upstairs and we are going to ignore, for the time being, that both their luggages are on the ground floor … this eventually turned into a race/game as JK sprinted for the right side of the bed, a side which so far, we’ve only seen JM sleep in, as JK has, thus far, only slept on the left side of any bed. 

So now we have a situation where JM is on the left and JK is on the right and they don’t bother changing, but they’ve kinda promised each other not to hit each other, so they are somewhat self-conscious, and stay quite far apart, most likely to assure that they don’t hit each other. Yet, as the night passes you can notice that my Twin-flame subconsciously gets closer to JM. I think he was particularly stressed about not hitting JM at which point he wakes up and decides to go and sleep on the left side of the floor mattress. And me being me thought “If they were cuddled together, they wouldn’t have hit each other…” which made me realise that perhaps JK hit JM in the CT cabin because they were sleeping apart, like on that bed in Jeju, but in opposite positions, because you know … cameras on and all. 

Bed arrangement aside, there are little things that seem to be a constant with the two of them, such as JK ordering food for the both of them, or JM making sure to order food for JK. If we want to be super specific, JK making sure to know if JM is having fun, JM asking JK specifically if JK has tweezers but not asking Tae, who quite quickly gets into his personal space and offers to take whatever hair out with his bare fingers. “Let’s shower”, “let’s eat ramyeon”, “let’s go to bed” … almost everything they do, seems like they want to do together, same as all the activities they have chosen, they seem to have chosen to each other's liking, exerting activities for JK, ocean activities for JM, as well as excellent restaurants for the both of them. In addition “JK, are you no longer hungry?”, “JMsshi you are not eating well”, “JK relax your shoulders”, “JM is prettier …” they also seem to be very attentive to each other, constantly. In fact, if I were to summarise their relationship based on these two episodes, I would say that JK and JM relish in longing, consideration and intimacy.

Episode 4 is by far my favourite episode, and the one I’ve admittedly watched the most. It allowed me to explore all these dynamics and the three of them just seemed to live through their personas so nicely, without having to worry too much about having to entertain while being unintentionally entertaining, like taekook hitting their head on the same spot on the boat or JM giving JK “CPR” as a consequence. NGL to you, I am really looking forward to episode 5. It is their last night together and I think our hosts are truly enjoying their time with their guest. As it is their last night, JK and JM will probably try to be entertaining enough for their guest and Tae will probably try to be just as easy-going to his hosts, regardless, their serenity and lightheartedness is quite soothing to me, so I honestly CAN’T WAIT.   

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo. 

[optimizeforseo1]

How To Analyze The Performance Of Your Landing Page

The landing page is the most vital weapon for marketing a business nowadays. Even after the investment of many bucks and labor to set up an online platform for business, many projects fail due to a lack of good analysis of the landing page report.

A landing page is the first page a visitor arrives at while visiting a website. The list of all pages a visitor sees first during their session is known as the landing page report. But when you review your website’s landing page report in Google analytics, your field of observation and examination will not remain limited to the landing page only. You have to deal there with all the pages a visitor encountered first during their visiting session.

In the highly competitive field of online marketing, monitoring the landing page’s metrics is one of the most important tasks to do. It keeps a proper track of the traffic demand, which you can utilize while setting up your own business and marketing strategy. The most significant landing page report’s most notable role is visible while working on e-commerce or data cluster type of websites.

Traffic on the Landing Page

The primary metric for landing page visits is the most important before analyzing any other metrics. This is important as it tells you the number of visitors to your landing page. Another help which it does is to track the number of visitors during weekdays and weekends. It gives you the approximate data of the number of visitors to your landing page. Along with this, the next crucial metric analysis is the source of the visitors to your landing page.

Traffic Source in the Landing Page

While traffic is the primary factor in the landing page, traffic source becomes its most important factor. It is indispensable to track the origin of visitors on your landing page. This is important as it helps you chalk out which campaign your landing page is working and which is not. Different traffic source has different outputs. You will encounter visitors from various sources, which includes-

Direct Traffic–

Visitors who have entered your landing page typed the URL into the browser’s address bar directly. Their authority is straight from the browser without using any other link from other websites or message forwards.

Referral Traffic–

The visitors here, click on a link provided for your landing page on some other website. They do not get to encounter your landing page directly.

Social Media Traffic–

Social Media now plays a vital role in landing pages. There are multiples of advertisements that give your landing page traffic. Many of the visitors and users click on a link through those social media posts. Now here, the job is to track down the social network which is providing you traffics.

Search Traffic–

Multiple users search a particular keyword in Bing, Google, and Yahoo and end up landing on your page. It’s also called Organic Traffic.

Email Traffic–

This consists of users who land up on your landing page by clicking a link to the newsletter and the marketing emails.

Pay Per Click Traffic–

The users click on ads in search engines and land up on your landing page.

These six vital traffic sources are significant for analyzing your works, and the campaign has been your best works. You will be able to generate traffic from the best sources only if you know the traffic source metrics. For instance, say the data of your landing page performance metric says that it has gained 89% of traffic for Referral Traffic and 11% of traffic from Pay Per Click traffic, then it will help you work on the best source for your landing page. In this case, the referral traffic shall be the traffic source on which the work is to be done more significantly.

Though, these are not the only ways to analyze your landing page’s performance. It would help if you found out the duration of traffic that stays on your landing page. This is the next metric you need to focus upon.

Session Duration of the Traffics

This metric is about the duration of the average amount of time the visitors have spent on your landing page before leaving the site. However, this metric is only significant if the visitors travel to another page of the same site. The session duration does not work if the visitor leaves the site, whether or not the visitor has spent some or no time on the site.

To track the duration, it is recommended to use Google Event Tracking API to calculate the visitor’s period on the landing page. Once the session duration tracking is done, you need to focus on the rate at which the users leave your landing page after entering it. The metric is popularly known as Bounce Rate.

Bounce Rate of Landing Pages

The Bounce Rate is very vital for evaluating the performance of your landing page. This is related to session duration metrics. It would help if you never forgot the rate at which the viewers, users, or visitors leave your landing page immediately after getting into it through any traffic source. The e-commerce marketers are very keen on the percentage of visitors who leave their landing page without clicking on any other page of their same website. The best is to keep the bounce rate low for your landing page. How will you keep the bouncing rate low on your landing page? It is easy if you pay attention to the content you have on the landing page. You need to make the content enjoyable so that visitors do not just abandon the website but also go through the whole webpage thoroughly, visiting all the pages. Increasing content is one way to keep the bounce rate low. It would help if you encouraged the visitors to not abandon your landing page without visiting other pages. If the volume of bounce rate is high, then the reasons would be-

The page content of the landing page is not valuable.

Page is not compelling enough to the visitors.

UX of the landing page is low.

The message provided on the landing page is misleading and is unclear.

The navigation of the page is complex.

These five factors are why you need to work on the contents of your landing page to keep the bounce rate low.

Ways of Improving Landing Page Performance

Improving landing page performance is essential. Knowing the metrics to evaluate your landing page’s performance is not enough for the landing page’s success. Utilizing the findings is most important for your landing page performance, as you will be able to generate more leads if you have a good understanding. Digital marketers improve their performance by improving their web page performance. It is the same thing for improving the landing pages. Few factors that will help you to improve your landing page-

Catchy Headlines

Have you ever seen the best newspapers making stories? How do they attract you? It is merely by the catchy headlines they provide to their readers. Similarly, your landing page’s profitable campaign needs a catchy headline, which will attract visitors to go through the campaign and visit other pages of the same website through it. This will naturally increase the number of clicks on your page. It is the headline that compels the visitors to enter the page.

Mobile Friendly Pages

Statistics have shown that a page gets most of its traffic from mobile devices.

Removal of Distractions– It is essential to keep away any pop-ups, external links, banners. It generally disturbs the visitor, and they tend to abandon the page at once. Also, it is difficult for the visitor to concentrate on the page. More than 70% of people dislike ads. Hence, eliminating distractions will improve the performance of your landing page.

SEO friendly Landing page

Remember to optimize your page in the search engine. It helps in standing out from your competitors. Also, it helps to increase the clicks on your landing page. The use of unique keywords is the key to success in improving your performance on the landing page. This will help you generate organic searches in the search engine.

These were the few factors that should be ardently followed for improving landing page performance. In other words, you must know the strategies on how to attract visitors.

Conclusion

Keeping it short, do not use landing pages for measuring its performance from time to time. It will lead your campaign to get shaped and converting visitors to leads. All you need to do is follow the factors that will improve your landing page’s performance. Through this, there will be monitoring of the campaign on your landing page. The results will not come overnight, and it will show its effectiveness gradually. So, start evaluating the performance of your landing page today.

Blog Source :- https://optimizeforseo.com/how-to-analyze-the-performance-of-your-landing-page/

[dasnercaret]

how ISAT makes you feel like going home

so one of my friends said to me "the first time i played (isat) was when i was home sick, i felt like it had curative properties. analyse that mr playstyle 😎" and i took it as a fucking challenge. i've never written an (tumblr-posted) analysis essay before and i'm going into this with a bunch of haphazardly folded ideas and NO OUTLINE fuck it we ball

so to begin with: DORMONT.

isat, as a whole, is extremely a traditional rpg setup. which unfortunately i know little to nothing about, so forgive me in advance if i put my foot in my mouth regarding traditional rpg mechanics. but like many games, you start at a home base, at home. and the whole vibes of the place honestly serve to only emphasize the safe / at home / storybook atmosphere isat cultivates. you wake up in a field, sleepy and tired. your dear friend mirabelle leans over you and tells you to wake up, because you're going to beat the king tomorrow! and you laugh and you're sleepy but eventually you start playing. eventually, you push yourself up and wander around and meet the townsfolk and your party.

now, the player doesn't know the party. they've just opened the game! they don't know these characters. siffrin does though, and it shows in the interactions he has with each one of them. mirabelle teases siffrin about the quality of his nap. isabeau puns with siffrin. odile smiles at him. bonnie... looks away, because of backstory you don't have yet, because you're leaping into this story at its very end. but siffrin knows.

(...)

siffrin knows. which informs his narration, of course, and overall it gives the sense of - you're watching a story already known, with characters who already love each other. like walking into a family home midway through a dinner party, to know and be known in turn.

(you know where you are. you're home!)

siffrin provides some exposition of course, enough to catch the player up and let them know the basics of the world you've set foot into. these people are here because they have natural ties, connections to the land they've been born or raised in or are travelling through. you all are here to defeat the king, who is the epitome of a traditional storybook villain, the big bad evil you defeat at the end of the fairytale. he's just the generically evil guy, with no focus given to the atrocities he must have committed and been willing to commit in order to get where he is. there's no need to be scared of him, not really. (yet.) he's evil, but in the way a storybook villain is evil. all the sharp edges defanged, sanded away, all the humanity and dimensionality and violence inherent in his character compressed into a set of scribbles on the page, words on a screen. it's not personal. it's not.... scary. not to you, and not to siffrin, who's already been floating above it all.

(the rest is under a cut! spoilers for The Entire Rest Of The Game)

similarly, the exposition is in the form of little childlike drawings, emphasizing the same nostalgia it draws on - fairytales, fables, those stories where the heroes collect the magic sword and slay the dragon and save the princess. you know these stories, consciously or not. you love these stories, (probably), and it all serves to emphasize the familiarity with which you step into dormont. heroic stories are extremely common in the stories we love today, from the old classic prince charming to (somewhat) more modern legend of zelda, and no doubt many people picking up isat have a similar passing familiarity with the overarching story of rpgs. (i in fact was the exception, but that's a whole other essay)

the townspeople definitely do not help this vibe as well. they are practically one and all kind, steady people, precisely the sort of common folk you'd want to save in a story where nothing hurts and everyone is safe and loved. they're happy to gift you a flower or a pan au chocolat and cheer you on in your quest, certain of your victory and at least certain of their continued happiness even if you fail. simple, easy, familiar, comforting in the way redwall is comforting or an old set of childhood fairytales is comforting. there's no real judgement, no anger at you for potentially failing and (almost) none of the gross ugly real emotions that would be present in a more 'realistic' story. simple, easy, familiar, comforting.

(You like knowing what happens next!)

so. i think we all know that isat at its core is a game about homesickness. god's sakes mal du pays is literally right there. the central conflict of this game, beneath the overlaying fluff of an rpg archetype and an evil to defeat, is about siffrin not being able to go home while the rest of his party get to do so. and even at this very early stage (approximately act 1 and i would argue a bit into act 2) you can start to see the cracks. siffrin is shown alone, tagging along with the party because he had "nothing else to do" (read: nowhere else to go.) he laughs and pals and jokes with the party, but like before, like always, he merely mirrors them. he makes puns with isabeau because isabeau likes puns, and siffrin liked making him laugh so much so that he adopted puns into a part of his personality. he comforts mirabelle about her future, jokes with odile about her research, and always, always, avoids talking about himself. when they ask where he's going to go after their journey is over, his answer is always a mirror of their own - pilgrimage, research, travel, comedy. when he makes a wish at the favor tree, there's no option to wish for himself.

because the thing is, right. siffrin never thinks of himself. the only options instead are to wish for his family - his home, his only living and real connections in his life, the people surrounding him that really make dormont feel like a real home and not just another friendly place in vaugaurde he's passing through. cause the townsfolk are nice, sure, they're friendly, sure, but - they don't know him. they're not important enough for him to literally rewrite his personality for them. it's his party instead, that he laughs and jokes with and is known with, even if superficially. he wants to be allowed to go home, to stay home. he's been homeless both literally and figuratively for so long that he's beyond desperate to be allowed to keep what little he's found for himself.

(You want to stay with them!)

except - what happens when you beat the game? what happens when you finish the rpg, when you reach the end of the book, when you grow up and leave this set of children's fairytales behind?

you put it down, right? you go home, right? you go back to your home, you go back to travelling, you go back to your family.

what do you do when you don't get to go home? when dormont and the clocktower and the house are the closest you will ever get to home, are the last moment you will ever have being home before it's ripped away from you forever? (ripped away from you just like before - )

you'd want to stay, right? forever and ever and ever?

siffrin is a character who has a very bad time letting go. just like the king, he wants to have, desperately, enough to kill himself a hundred times over for it. and, through the timeloop, he can pull you, the player, and himself and his hapless party along through the timeloop, repeating the same two comforting days over and over and over and over.

and perhaps after a few loops of settling in you, too, can understand why he would want to do this. it's nice, isn't it? knowing what will happen? knowing that these people will always love you? knowing that you can always get the flower, always get the drawing, always get the pan au chocolat, always beat the tutorial kid and get the jackpot? that the townsfolk will always smile at you, that your party - your family, your home - will never know what you've done?

it's not enough, isn't it?

(Dormont, unchanging! Dormont, stagnating!)

no matter how hard siffrin tries to cling to the past turned present to stave off his inevitable future, he is still human. under the fairytale setting and pretty lights, even under his own desire to stay with them, he needs that human connection. he needs something to change, to give way. needs to be seen, to be known, to be loved for himself and not because he's learned the perfect pretty words and actions to trick them into loving him. you, the player, the person driving siffrin, can understand this frustration perfectly as well - you need something to change. you need something to give way, because you can't keep doing this. because you can't hear the same lines over and over and over anymore. you can't do the same thing over and over anymore. you're not happy. siffrin's not happy. something needs to change.

i finished isat over the course of about four days, playing about 12-14 hours per day. during that time, i experienced possibly the most deeply intensely felt emotion i have ever experienced. to this day when i look back on my first playthrough of isat, the sheer depth and fury of that emotion takes my breath away.

and it was frustration. just like siffrin, i was trapped. i couldn't look away, because i loved these characters, because i loved their story, because i wanted them to keep going and going and living and i wanted to keep living alongside them. but i couldn't keep going like this. i couldn't do the same thing over and over and over. i needed something to change, but both siffrin and i were desperately, agonizingly trapped in the same few days. the same places, the same faces, the same lines said rote until i was zoning out through every dialogue interaction, only pausing when i needed to make sure that i hadn't missed something new.

because i loved these characters. i loved how homely they felt. i loved them, i loved them, i -

needed them to be real. to change, to grow, to have their future returned to them. i needed to see them go home, not trapped in this same endless time-frozen loop. i had been trapped at home too long, and the cabin fever was eating me alive. my desire to be allowed to keep playing (to stay in the timeloop) was duking it out with my desire to see them change beyond what they were allowed to change in the span of just two days. i wanted to see bonnie grow up, to see isabeau change into someone else, to see odile come to terms with her half-vaugardian nature, to see mirabelle learn to accept her sexuality (or lack thereof). i wanted them to remember us as family.

ah, isat, absolute king of getting in my head and making me think like siffrin.

back to dormont. in the end, dormont only changes permanently in act 6, after the time loop breaks. the only time the townsfolk ever change, ever coherently move to different places and act differently (act 5 is similar, but i would argue that's because siffrin changes, dormont still doesn't really meaningfully change) is after the loops.

and it's fitting, isn't it? by this point in the game, you could recite dormont backwards and forwards. but by this point in the game, you are well aware that you need to give them back a future. their future. the one they wished for in the first place. they've been trapped in their fairy tale wonderland for long enough. they deserve to go home, truly home, to go forward and live their lives and keep moving on. to allow them to change, to grow.

to allow yourself to change, to grow. to allow yourself to go home, to admit that you want to keep your home you have now, to keep the family you've built from blood and death and tears and stars.

(You want to stay with them!)

to leave dormont. to leave this fairytale behind, and keep living.

[the-solar-system52]

Negative Weapon Symbolism

I'm back on my bullshit again. Modmad gave Negative a sword, so I am now legally required to analyse what this means for the LORE. (Despite the fact I really don't know a lot about weapon types)

So, Negative's iconic scythe. Despite him only actually using it once in the comic, its still a very memorable part of his character, and has been shown using it in merch and fanart alike. First impressions are everything, and modmad continuing to associate Negative with this scythe long after he was shown using it means that this weapon is important to his character. Or at least, how the fandom (and by extention, Hero) saw Negative before the recent chapters.

But what does it mean?

Scythes are commonly used as a symbol of death, both in mythology and modern media. 'Grim reaper' esque characters are almost always seen wielding them, and are just generallly a weapon best suited for an intimidating villian.

Scythes are also less coordinated weapons. Their real purpose is to chop down large portions of crops, and the long wide blade compliments this. If a character is fighting with a scythe, then they are usually attacking their enemies with effectiveness, but with no real direction. Their enemies are just crops that need to be struck down, and this is exactly what we see Negative doing to the fears in this fight scene.

Not to mention that in-canon, the blade of his scythe was snapped of the a personification of fear. And used to kill off even more Fears. So yes, it's clear this weapon is supposed to encompass just how intimidating and deadly Negative is in his first appearance.

But that SWORD. Negative has been associated with scythes since the introduction of his character! So why would Modmad draw him with a sword instead? It was a complete shock, and I'm sure it was intentional.

And I think I have an answer! I talk about it more in another post, but Hero's (and the audience's) perception of Negative has altered greatly from when we first saw him.

Negative is still powerful and skilled, but he is no longer as menacing and scary as he once was. Hero and RGB talked about him earlier in the chapter and learned new things about him. And on top of that, Hero intentionally made him appear this time because she knew he'd find a way to save them from this dangerous situation. He's still a mysterious character, but he is more of a calm but powerful savior in this chapter then a cold and calculated killing machine.

What sort of fighter fits that character archetype perfectly? A KNIGHT! And what do knights have? SWORDS!

Ok so they may be a little bit of a stretch, but I hope you understand what I'm getting at. Swords are powerful and can still hurt someone, but they are still seen as more 'noble' weapons than scythes. I'd be more inclined to trust someone with a sword then any other weapon, since they are commonly associated with protecters. And that's exactly what Negative is doing in this scene, protecting Hero. So Mod gave him a weapon that better demonstrates that.

Swords are also more coordinated, and even graceful at times. People do fencing as a hobby because it requires more precise and deliberate jabs at your enemy to land a hit. When a character fights with a sword, they are typically only fighting with one person, and it gives the impression of them being less murderous, because all their attacks are thoroughly planned out. The swords long and thin blade also compliments this, because it is not a weapon designed for a mindless killing spree. I'd be much less afriad of someone with a sword accidentally hitting me than I would someone with a scythe.

I know he's only had his sword for one page, but from what we've seen, he is using this weapon to find a way out of the house, instead of immediately attacking the doubts or Anxiety. He could definitely defend himself if he wanted to, but right now he is on the defensive. It may tie back into what I said about Happy Tears VS Sad Tears. Negative is in a better state of mind this chapter, so a noble and diligent weapon suits him better.

Also do I even need to point out the symbolise of the sword being made out of MIRROR SHARDS? The same mirror that RGB was uncomfortable looking into after being told about Negative? The same mirror that was yet another Charlie Chaplin reference? The same mirror that reflected part of RGB's human appearance? Negative literally being a MIRROR IMAGE of RGB????? (Goddamn I love this series so much)

Edit: Nevermind, disregard this next part. Negative doesn't use a lancer, he uses a saber.

So I am definitely reaching in this part, but just hear me out for a moment.

This is a lance. A lance is a type of sword. I'm not sure if Negative's sword is supposed to be a certain type, but it could be possible it is a lance.

A person who uses a lance is called a lancer. But that word also holds another meaning in story-writing terms.

Going by this description, I think it is possible that Negative's weapon is referencing the fact that he is RGB's lancer character. I think it's a pretty accurate description of their dynamic, or whatever their dynamic could become once they get more character development.

Its a little silly, but knowing how much Modmad loves puns and visual gags, I wouldn't put it past them.

I'm no swords expert, so if Negative's weapon isn't actually a lance then please tell me. But if it is, then it'd like to think it was an intentional reference on ModMad's end.

[hbpseverus]

What the internet did to James Potters character is actually so incredibly fascinating... in canon, this man was a background character who served not much of a purpose other than being used as a tool to develop other characters. We see him in like two scenes in the entire franchise: a throwback to Hogwarts where he acts so horribly that his own son, who previously *admired* him more than anything, is in total shock and disgust when he sees it. Not only does James commit an act of SA out of literal boredom, he is also seen treating his own 'friends' - Remus, Peter and Lily - as if they are worthless or beneath him, all within a few pages. I could probably write a whole essay about the dynamics between all of the characters present in Snape's worst memory, they way this supposed friend group was already falling apart, the way James and Sirius treated Remus and Peter with utter disrespect. Anyway, the other scene he appears in is when he dies. And that's it. That's all we have. On top of that he was, in canon, pictured to be average looking at most, a pasty kid with nerdy glasses and an even more nerdy hairdo that would most likely make him the victim of bullying, rather than the bully, at a real school. And the only people who talk of any sort of character development are his old friends and teachers, the same ones who either stood by or actively participated while he harrassed *several* other students for fun and casually commited acts that could probably land an adult man in prison for a few years. Plus they were trying to restore some of the glorious image of his father that Harry had in mind. So, not the most reliable source.

The fascinating part is how a corner of the internet managed to hyperfixate on this background character who was pictured as nothing but an awful person in the books, erased *all* of his canon character and turned him into the exact opposite. Suddenly he looks about ×1000 times more attractive in fanart, and all bad things he did are conveniently forgotten. Same goes for Sirius, especially in relation to the Wolfstar ship. James and Sirius were clearly close friends, but Remus? He was just strung along, not given the same respect. Sirius carelessly yaps about his being a werewolf in the middle of the schoolyard where anyone could hear and talks about how he wishes it was a full moon so they could have 'fun' - a sentiment I'm not so sure Remus shared. It's a very unhealthy and dysfunctional friendship that would be even worse if it was a romantic relationship. That being said, they are all very complex, very flawed characters who are extremely interesting to analyse. Fanon often strips away any complexity that these characters had in canon in order to make them more appealing. It's just... a shame almost, at least in my opinion. These fanon characters are entirely unappealing to me. I respect them as a sort of seperate fandom with their own original characters, but it's gotten so mixed up with canon that people no longer remember who these characters truly are, and if you bring up and dare to criticize their ugly sides in any way, then good luck soldier.

[beewolfwrites]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something about y/n not being japanese and not knowing Japanese so Chishiya is super interested in her and helps her learn some japanese? Thank U!! ❤️❤️❤️

Soooo, for those who used to read my fics, hello again! I'm alive, lol. Just had a busy year, lost an aunt to covid, completely changed my career, had a whole spectrum of family issues, and lost all time for writing anything.

I haven't watched season 2 yet, but apparently they've put Chishiya in the Jack of Hearts game and he eats some cookies (??)

This ask was from such a long time ago, so I'm sorry anon, I hope you're out there somewhere enjoying season 2! The request was so similar to the character in my fics, so I just wrote this as kind of a deleted scene from AWIAF, early on just after she joins the Beach.

Enjoy :)

____________________________

I traced the kanji for 帽子や, making sure each thin black stroke was neat, in perfect order. Despite the mid-morning sunshine, the bar and pool was empty. Even the usual bartender was tucked away behind hotel curtains, likely sleeping off a game. Having only arrived a few days ago, I didn’t know what I had expected, but I quite liked this side of the Beach. An inflatable flamingo lay discarded on the pool’s edge, and on every surface tall glasses glistened with the dregs of warm cocktails - ghosts of last night’s chaos. However, the warmth of the sun grazing the back of my neck and the soft lap of the pool reminded me that there could be some respite here - maybe not heaven or a utopia, but something.

Hunched over my notebook, I flicked through a pocket dictionary, listing the kanji for useful words.

帽子や - Hatter

危ない - Dangerous

生きる - to live (ichidan verb) - 生きます (formal)

死ぬ - to die (godan verb) - 死にます (formal)

“What a waste of time.” 

Even with the quiet of the pool, I hadn’t heard him approach. The air shifted, disturbed by his sudden presence, as he sat on the barstool beside mine. A little too close for comfort, his shadow blocked out the sunlight and he smelled like the shared detergent from the Beach’s laundry room. He didn’t reach for any of the drinks or snacks, but sat playing with an old iPod as he analysed the notes in front of me. I flattened my hand over the page, fighting off a shiver. 

“I didn’t realise it was any of your business how I spend my time.”

“It isn’t,” he said. “But if you’re going to be of any use to Hatter, you need to change your strategy and learn the language faster.”

Strategy? For learning Japanese? Me and my notes had nothing to do with him. “I don’t know what you’re taking about. Not everything is a game, Chishiya.” 

He raised a brow. “Isn’t it? Hatter didn’t let you stay out of the kindness of his heart. He wants playing cards, and I gave him my word that you're smart.”

“Are you suggesting I’m stupid?”  

“No, but what use is a player who can’t understand the rules?”

If he hadn’t come here for drinks or snacks, surely he only found me to pressurise me. I didn’t need his unhelpful little comments, warnings and riddles. There was more than enough of that in the games. 

“I didn’t luck out of those games, you know? I actually did understand the rules. You knew that already, so stop trying to play with me.” 

He smiled, clearly enjoying himself. “This whole world is a game, and even now you’re in a life or death situation. Are you sure you have time to be writing out kanji for words you already know?” 

I closed my notebook. Yes, I had known deep down that writing out vocabulary wouldn’t get me very far. But it was hardly as if the Beach offered intensive fast-track language classes for poor unfortunate tourists who landed themselves here. The only hope I had was Chishiya, who was currently more invested in detangling his headphones than holding this conversation.

I leaned back, stretching out my fingers to feel the sun once more. “What do you suggest then, O Great Language Master?” 

“Immersion.” 

The idea was laughable. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m about as immersed as I can get. I’m in Japan, surrounded by Japanese people, playing death games that are only explained in Japanese —

“And yet you hide away in your room. You only come down when the pool is quiet. You don’t speak to anyone aside from myself or Kuina, and most of the time, you speak to us in your own language.” His catlike eyes slid across in a side glance so calculating, it hurt. “Am I wrong?” 

There was nothing more I could say. I couldn’t even argue with him, and there was no point to it. “So what can I do then?” 

He shifted, turning to face me fully. “Between now and tomorrow, only speak to me in Japanese.” 

“What if I don’t know how to say something?” 

“Then ask,” he said, “or look it up in that dictionary. But don’t rely on a language that isn’t going to help you survive.” 

I pursed my lips, thinking through my words before speaking. “なぜ私を助けて”

Why are you helping me?

Chishiya looked away, squinting out across the courtyard. His mouth curled as if there was a private joke I had missed somewhere.

“さあね...”

He slid off his stool and slipped his ipod back into his pocket, before heading back into the hotel.

Who knows?