#I'm glad I added one

[undeaddrabble]

IDOL DAILY - New Issue!

(The Amazing Digital Dance Rush AU by @nobody-nexus!)

I finally managed to get my hands on this thing! You wouldn't believe how long it took.

Anyway, I can finally show what's important here...

The info? Nah, don't be silly.

The photos from the photo shoot!

Wow... this sure was a surprise... but a pleasant one! They really outdid themselves this time... can't wait to see what else they got planned in the future!

... Still here? Cool.

Here's something extra <3

After the photoshoot, Jax invited Zooble over to his place. Wind down after all the trouble.

Normally, they would’ve just said no and moved on with their day, but, this time around… why not?

Maybe they’d get some answers. Some stuff didn’t add up.

Zooble looked out the window with contempt.

They glanced down at the crowd of faceless fans screaming their and Jax’s names, singing praises and begging for more.

Those poor fools.

They would never have enough.

They were all just NPCs anyway. It hardly mattered.

But their staring and their screams were still unnerving and grating to Zooble’s being.

They simply closed the curtains, then turned around, and were met by the oversized lagomorph laying down on a fancy couch, drinking wine.

Being at the top of the leaderboard had its perks.

Had the whole place all to himself…

What an ego freak.

“See?” He threw his head back. “I told you the fans would go crazy over this collab.” He took a sip out of his wine and then spread his arms wide. “They’re eating it up!”

Zooble sighed and rolled their eyes. 

“As if that’s even a surprise. They’ll eat anything up.” They sat down on a different couch, keeping their eyes on the rabbit. “If you had collaborated with anyone else it wouldn’t make a difference. You’d get the same result.”

Jax went quiet as he closed his eyes, then sipping his wine again.

“Hmm… maybe you’re right.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at Zooble.

“But aren’t you glad I picked you out of everyone else?”

Was he expecting them to be thankful?

It wasn’t like they asked for it.

It came out of nowhere.

They squinted silently.

“…Why? You know I don’t even care about the numbers. Or being popular for that matter.”

He spun his drink in his hand, reflecting on his actions for a moment.

It was almost like he wasn’t expecting them to ask.

“I dunno…”

He glanced at Zooble, giving a light shrug.

“Maybe I just felt like being nice?”

The room fell silent for a while.

“…Felt like being nice.”

Zooble repeated his words back to him.

It even felt wrong to say it out loud. They immediately dismissed it.

“Yeah, right.”

Jax simply chuckled.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

They shook their head.

“I have no reason to.”

Jax pretended to be offended, gasping and clutching at his chest. What a drama queen.

“Wow, Zooble. I’m hurt.”

They rolled their eyes once more.

“Psh.”

They got up from their seat, walking over to the bar to pour a glass of wine of their own. “…Whatever.”

[royalarchivist]

Fit: Good times on the QSMP, you love to see it, you love to see it.

Thank you to all the QSMP streamers, admins, and the community for an eventful year, and an especially big thank you to Fit + Pac! Here's my small tribute as thanks to them for all the laughs, lore, and, of course, "The Concept of Love!"

[nipuni]

Quick poll! Which of these David Tennant characters that I haven't drawn before should I doodle next

[augustheart]

official "married couple & just some guy" post

[journey-to-the-attic]

(有点晚的) 新年快乐!

happy (a little belated) lunar new year!! sorry i haven't been answering asks, been a busy week - i'll try to get to that tomorrow ^^

[theabigailthorn]

Shadowheart and Nocturne sure seem like to be good friends

yup, just two gal pals, hanging out, doing each other's hair in a secret back room, Platonically, fighting alongside one another, writing in diaries about one another, just as friends, sharing memories, as friends though

[b4kuch1n]

hahaha wheee haha

[stoneshipmapper]

<I can learn so much studying my own body…>

[violetlunette]

hi !! I have a small question about the fic your planning on doing (Can You Feel the Love?) Is the person silver falls in love with yuu? or some oc?

Hm, I was thinking Idia as I think they'd be a cute couple. Also, Yuu's are very personal to people so I'm not sure anyone would enjoy a Silyuu fic unless it was a one shot.

But what the hey; since I let ya vote on the story, I'll let you vote on the ship as well.

These are the options I feel are best for the story's plot as a major focus is that DiaFam is worried that if Silver falls in love, he'll leave them to be with his lover and none of them are happy about that. At the same time Silver is conflicted on what to do as he's never been in love before. For the first time he feels torn in two different directions. (This is partly why Sebek isn't an option as it wouldn't fit the scenario and the drama would only affect the two of them.)

The rest of the conflict will depend on the Love Interest.

[reblog-house]

Some things can change.

[phoenixcatch7]

Possessed doll au batman!

Based entirely on the stunning artwork of @puppetmaster13u, a 3d model!

This guy has been cooking for a while, colouring by hand is such a time consuming process lol. But I finally finished!

Here he is from other angles! I'm really happy with how he turned out, especially that mask! That thing is layered.

[kanasmusings]

[Stage News] Identity V Stage Episode IV - "Phantom of the Monochrome"

Identity V Stage Episode 4 news have been announced together with the new survivor and new main game content earlier~! I'm so happy we get another installment to the stage, and that we get to see them back in action again! Here are the cast (returning and new) and details regarding the new episode~!

Please check their official Twitter for more news and updates~! I've also linked the actors' official accounts (at least, those that I could find) for those interested in giving them a follow~

CAST:

-SURVIVORS-

[Focus Cast] "PRISONER" : Luca Balsa - Anazawa Yusuke

Mechanic: Tracy Reznik - Tsuboi Miku

Seer: Eli Clark - Chiba Mizuki

Prospector: Norton Campbell - Suga Kyosuke

Mercenary: Naib Subedar - Matsufuji Takuya

Grave Keeper: Andrew Kreiss - Masaki Kohei

Postman: Victor Grantz - Suzuki Yota

Priestess: Fiona Gilman - Sakura Karen

Painter: Edgar Valden - Miyagi Kodai

Gardener: Emma Woods - Uchida Asumi

Embalmer: Aesop Carl - Hirai Yuki

-HUNTERS-

[Focus Cast] Wu Chang -> White Guard (Xie Bi'an) - Kunishima Naoki & Black Guard (Fan Wujiu) - Agata Gouki

Ripper: Jack - Narimatsu Yoshihiko

Photographer: Joseph Desaulniers - Igarashi Keisuke

Axe Boy: Robbie White - Watabe Hiroki

Geisha: Michiko - Nakano Aimi

Sculptor: Galatea Claude - Yagi Mashiro

-Ensemble Cast-

Nihira Shogo

Tachibana Ryo

For those asking where to find the first three episodes, the Blu-rays are still available for order on Movic or on CDJapan. As for the subtitles, they're all available in my WordPress masterpost here!

[zichqec]

I wrote an English guide to YAYA.

It’s long and detailed. It’s got a companion ghost that you can use to run the example code snippets. And I hope it will be helpful for many folks, whether you are new to coding, or an experienced programmer that wants a quick guide to the syntax and some of the weird mechanics.

I have poured so much of my time and energy into this as the year has been drawing near to its end. Please give it a look, and if it helps you improve at ghost coding then that is all I could ask for.

More information about it on my article for the 伺的 Advent Calendar 2022, which you can read here.

[hivepixels]

.

[sabraeal]

Minimum Distance, Chapter 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Championship: Undercover as Lovers

Feathers might settle on silk, but Obi’s heart is still taking flight, pounding in triple time as Doc takes her eyes off him, tipping back her chin to show off the spray of freckles beneath her jaw, right where the most delicate part of her skin stretches to cover her pulse. There’s a part of him that knows he should be worried about the man at the door, that he should already be composing a plan to get not only her but Ryuu out of this house, global lockdown or not, but—

But there’s another, louder part that sees an invitation. That got the fucking Save-the-Date from Doc anteing up that whole dance across the carpet and has some real opinions about just how well her skin would hold a mark. Who is really stumping for him to test some hypotheses about how freckles taste.

Telling it to shut up isn’t hard. Just another Tuesday here in paradise.

“Well…” Her neck stretches just a fit further, straining the limits of her voice, but she finally gets the door in her sight. Takes a minute one she’s got it to worry at her lip, leaving the barest, babiest dints behind, the kind he’d love to feel against his— “I guess I should go get that.”

Obi sits back on his knees, staring. She’s real confident for a girl who wanted to switch rooms one shower ago. “Doc, shouldn’t you— hngh?”

She wriggles, hips not just worming but also squirming right beneath him, and it’s doing something both wonderful and terrible to the wiring up and his brain. Real light show right where his lizard ancestors party down.

Doesn’t mean he was born her bodyguard yesterday though. Grandpa Gator might be personally projecting the world’s sexiest powerpoint presentation, but Obi’s already shifting, one of his thighs catching under hers, trapping it up between his knee and elbow. Gets her wrists for good measure too, both of them bound up in one hand, ignoring her surprised little whine when he pins them to the mattress.

That’s Bodyguarding 101 when it comes to Doc: can’t trust any of those little interested noises when he’s got his hands on her. Her interest in manhandling is purely academic; with only two geriatrics to keep an eye on her as a kid, anything more physical than a side hug registers as a novel experience. A real Only Child Problem.

Imagine that, being the only kid in the house. Absolutely buckwild.

“Wasn’t the whole point of swapping rooms so that you wouldn’t be getting any midnight rendezvous from that creep?” he growls, frustration itching just beneath his skin, deep enough he can’t scratch.

“Well, yes,” she allows, back flat against the mattress. She couldn’t be more thoroughly bed-bound if he tied her to it— which, god, he should really not be thinking about right now. Not when he’s got his knee between her legs and all that’s between him and skin is some skimpy teddy. It’s got the same sort of effect on him as a whole bottle of tequila: absolutely devastating for the parts of his brain involving high function, excellent for his circulatory health. “But there’s no problem now, if you’re here.”

There’s actually a bunch of problems— most of which start and end with his body’s sudden interest in showing off what sort of improvements this new three mile jog habit has made on his dick game— but there’s still the overhanging stuck in this dude’s smart house for the foreseeable future and we don’t know what his long game is. Short game, though, seems pretty fucking clear.

“Doc,” he hisses, leaning close enough everything but her eyes blurs, like that guy who painted haystacks for a living. “That doesn’t mean he won’t try to—”

“Um, hello?” There’s another knock, more insistent this time, and god, this guy might be some…pharmaceutical savant or whatever, but it doesn’t seem like anyone ever bothered to teach him how to read a damn room. “Are you there, or…?”

Doc’s mouth thins, her jaw getting that stubborn set it does when she’s about to haul off and jump out a window, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t even squirm under him, just lays there, staring up at the ceiling, brow all furrowed and—

And that’s why he doesn’t even see the pillow coming. He barely has time to register she’s slipped a wrist free— right through the gap between his thumb and fingers, the minx— before a pound of down feathers takes him right out. He keeps his grip, fingers locked around the only wrist he’s got left, but all his air being replaced with eiderdown doesn’t do much for his stability— a fact Doc’s all too ready to exploit, using their momentum to put him right on his back.

Damn. Probably should have seen it coming. Taught her that one himself right after that whole clusterfuck with Umihebi, along with a few of the less brutal takedowns in his repertoire.

Instead he’s left breathless, trying to win a wrestling match with the pillow over his windpipe— a fight he could win, if she wasn’t clambering down him the whole time, rubbing bits of her over parts of him primed to pay attention. A solid toss knocks the thing back— right in time to catch a flash of strawberry-print cotton as she dismounts, scurrying toward the door.

It shouldn’t do anything. Not when he could write his own dissertation on the classification of every shade and shape of bush. But apparently his dick hasn’t gotten the memo on that one, stretching both his credulity and his waistband before he slams the pillow over his crotch, adding a new shade of blue to his vocabulary.

By the time he’s got any mind to stop her, Doc’s already peeking her head through the door, telling number twelve of the Forbes Fifty Under Fifty, “Excuse me…it’s really late?”

“O-oh, Shirayuki. Yes, of course. It is late. Very late. It’s just, you see…” From this angle he can’t see the guy’s face, just the nervous fluttering of his hands, like two drunk birds trying to fuck their way out of chimney. “I think there may be some…misunderstanding? Are you, er…?”

Alone, that’s what this asshole is trying to say. Because that’s how he wants her: vulnerable. How all these rich jackasses seem to think she should be. And here he is, trapped on this bed as thoroughly as if Doc were holding him down, debating whether she’s in enough trouble to saunter up and risk showing off just what sort of heat he’s packing.

He stifles a groan. This is how it’s always gonna be, isn’t it? Finding some new way to live his life on the edge, no matter how cushy the gig is; as strung out on her as anything that came in a little plastic baggy.

“Am I…?” Doc leans out the door, her weight shifted over her feet-- the perfect way to be snatched off them-- and that’s enough to get him off the bed.

Big Pharma’s prodigal son had seen fit to provide every room with one of those cushy bathrobes, even nicer than the ones he steals from every hotel where the Big Boss sets them up, each one monogrammed with their initials in the nicest, curliest cursive. Obi doesn’t know just how this guy decided which of his aliases to use, but he’s glad to have something on hand that might do a better job of obscuring what gray cotton won’t.

There’s not enough time for him to be strategic about it— he just strings it across his shoulders and knots the belt over his waist, hoping velvet is heavy enough for even his circulatory system to struggle against. By the glance Rugilia gives him when he leans behind Doc in the doorway, all casual menace, before his eyes drop straight to his crotch—

It isn’t. But that guy still looks away first, flushed right past the collar of his stupid robe, so at least his dick’s overactive imagination has gone and paid off for once. Oh boy, just wait until Kiki hears about this one. Princess would put that shit right in the company newsletter.

“Want to explain what you’re doing here?” Obi hardly needs to fake the gravel in his voice. Doc might not have ridden him hard or put him away wet or anything, but it’s the closest he’s come in almost three years. “Standing around Doc’s door at the witching hour?”

“B-but…” Obi’s got a healthy dose of skepticism when it comes to these people with more zeroes in their bank account than brain cells in their head, but when Rugilia’s eyes widen, jaw going so slack he can see all the way back to his tonsils— well, he’s gotta say, it’s convincing. “But it’s supposed to be your room.”

Now it’s Doc’s turn to stare at him, and, well, that throws are few things about this night into perspective. Damn, too bad Master’s not still hanging around in the closet— he could use a reminder that Obi’s still a hot commodity. “So, you’re here for me?”

It’s flattering, even if this stick figure isn’t his type. Certainly the most aggressive come-on he’s had in a while. He might even think about it, if he wasn’t on the job. Sometimes a boy likes to be chased, after all.

“N-no, wait, that’s— that’s not what I meant.” Rugilia might be huffing and puffing now, glaring at the both of them like it’s their fault they found him caterwauling outside their door like a hard-up tom, but Obi doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep drifting south of his equator. “Oh, honestly, if you two want to— to! You could have just said you wanted a room together.”

Doc clears her throat, guilty. “We were, um…trying to, ah…be discreet?”

“Discreet? Whatever for?” He crosses his arms, flushed. “At least then I would have known to check the cameras before I came down to—”

“Cameras?” Obi asks, but it’s too late, Doc’s already barreling ahead with, “We haven’t told the company we’re dating!”

Rugilia blinks, eyebrows bumping blindly over his nose. “Do your departments really work closely enough that you have to?”

Doc’s looking at him, like he’s got his finger on the pulse of these fraternization regs for some reason, but he’s still stuck on— this guy really thinks he’s a lawyer. This guy looks at the scar cutting across his naked chest and the other riding high by his hairline and sees four year college. Sees another three years post-grad at least, internships, sees passing the goddamn bar—

“Anyway, I wasn’t coming here to be a…er…pest,” Rugilia continues, suddenly as confident in his bathrobe as he would be in a three-piece suit. “I had a favor to ask.”

Right, this guy came here for a reason. Even if it wasn’t to take advantage of the California King situation past this door, this guy is up to something. Something that involves Doc. “Listen, Doctor Lyon doesn’t—”

“Oh, ha! I didn’t mean Shirayuki!” Rugilia waves his hand, utterly disarming— until he fixes his stare on Obi. “I’m here for you, Mr Won.”

Well, he didn’t have that on his eccentric billionaire bingo card tonight. “Uh.” He steps back, making space. “Then come in, I guess.”

[dylanconrique]

listening to shania twain's "you're still the one" is really not good for my mental health at all since it's the song i most associate with chenford.