#every day i am chasing the high that was designing this

[squidbian-ink]

Saw someone on here saying they wanted Zelda to have a gun in Tears of the Kingdom and OH BOY DO I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU

I designed this last year after seeing someone on twt propose the exact same thing. heres some design sketches/notes on how it'd actually be put together too.

[nostalgebraist]

Seeing a lot of python hate on the dash today... fight me guys. I love python. I am a smoothbrained python enjoyer and I will not apologize for it

Python has multiple noteworthy virtues, but the most important one is that you can accomplish stuff extremely fast in it if you know what you are doing.

This property is invaluable when you're doing anything that resembles science, because

Most of the things you do are just not gonna work out, and you don't want to waste any time "designing" them "correctly." You can always go back later and give that kind of treatment to the rare idea that actually deserves it.

Many of your problems will be downstream from the limitations in how well you can "see" things (high-dimensional datasets, etc.) that humans aren't naturally equipped to engage with. You will be asking lots and lots of weirdly shaped, one-off questions, all the time, and the faster they get answered the better. Ideally you should be able to get into a flow state where you barely remember that you're technically "coding" on a "computer" -- you feel like you're just looking at something, from an angle of your choice, and then another.

You will not completely understand the domain/problem you're working on, at the outset. Any model you express of it, in code, will be a snapshot of a bad, incomplete mental model you'll eventually grow to hate, unless you're able to (cheaply) discard it and move on. These things should be fast to write, fast to modify, and not overburdened by doctrinaire formal baggage or a scale-insensitive need to chase down tiny performance gains. You can afford to wait 5 seconds occasionally if it'll save you hours or days every time your mental map of reality shifts.

The flipside of this is that it is also extremely (and infamously) easy to be a bad python programmer.

In python doing the obvious thing usually just works, which means you can get away with not knowing why it works and usually make it through OK. Yes, this is cringe or whatever, fine. But by the same token, if you do know what the right thing to do is, that thing is probably very concise and pretty-looking and transparent, because someone explicitly thought to design things that way. What helps (or enables) script kiddies can also be valuable to power users; it's not like there's some fundamental reason the interests of these two groups cannot ever align.

[silvervioletvalentine]

‘I know I've got a big ego, I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though!’

Pairing : Lewis Hamilton X FemOC Candy!

Summary- in which she’s a spoilt , Primadonna girl and Lewis will do anything to get her to be his girl.

Candy didn’t know when this whole thing had started, what it was about her that had him so hooked and so obsessed with the idea of getting her to become his girl , to let him be her man.

She had done everything she could to deter him , she turned up to a high class bitchiness level that she had never even reached before . More cunty and more cruel than her friends could believe , getting great amusement out of putting one of the hottest , arrogant men down a few pegs every time she seen his pretty face .

But sometimes he got beneath her skin and wormed his over the top affections , his poetic words and endless promises of the a luxurious life he could give her.

Candy was certain that he would give her his kidney If she so much as hinted at wanting it, his promise of never ending supply of love and gifts never did fade .

Even when she thought that maybe , just maybe he had finally grown sick of chasing after her like a dog after his favourite ball.

It had been quite for the last three weeks , far more quite than she had grown accustomed to over the last year of knowing Lewis.

It unsettled her , a weird ache settling between her chest as she contemplated the fact that maybe he really had grown bored with her silly games , of her constant mean rejections and petty excuses to deny his affections time and time again.

And candy thought that she would be fine with this , that it wouldn’t bother her when things came to a still end like they always did with men’s attention waned on her after time had passed .

But instead of the indifference that she expected to feel , she just felt like a hole had been run right through her .

A frown settling over her pretty face the last few weeks when she realised that Lewis really wasn’t reaching out anymore . He usually never went a couple days or more without some type of communication .

It bad her rattled and she didn’t like it at all.

So she picked up her phone and dialled his number before she could find the reason in her brain telling her not to .

She was almost surprised when after only a couple of rings , he actually picked up. But she was too annoyed and too keyed up to even think of why he sounded so amused when he sang a pleased hello.

She cut straight through him without even wasting a single breath .

“Have you been in a terrible accident ? Have you lost your legs? Your voice? Have you sudden developed amnesia and forgotten who I am?” She bit out at him , offended by his lack of attention these past three weeks.

Despite the way that the last time she had seen him, she had told him to shove his designer gifts for her where the sun didn’t shine and to leave her the fuck alone.

To be fair , she had been on her period . Pissed off from the constant pain and moody from her suffering . And secondly , she hasn’t expected him to actually leave her the fuck alone.

This wasn’t how their game went at all. He should have been here with some pretty , sparkly things while telling her how much he had missed her.

What the hell was he playing at , ignoring her like this?

“Missed me sweetheart? I thought you didn’t want to see me? Changed your mind again?” He teased her , a giddy tone in his phone at the thought of her missing him so much.

It had been torture for him not to be Constantly on her ass and around her like he usually was , but he had just wanted to see what would happen if he really did follow through with her demands to fuck right off.

Half expecting Her to never reach out again, he was pleasantly surprised to hear her furious voice shouting at him again. It made his body relax and a smug grin settle on his face .

Candy let out a infuriated noise “no I didn’t! I was actually - I was actually just calling to let you know that I’ve moved on! adiós to you!” She shrilled.

Picking up her fluffy cat and hugging him to her chest with her free arm for comfort , the same rag doll that Lewis had gotten her for simply looking pretty this summer.

Lewis let out a chuckle , knowing her like his favourite well read book.

“Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guys name? Anyone I know?” He played along. Putting his phone on speaker as he drove along the familiar road to her home .

Candy scowled to herself , angrily pacing her room at how amused he sounded . Her eyes traced the framed pictures on her wall, landing on one from her favourite band .

She blinked .

“No you don’t know him. His name is - his name is axl. The hottest man I’ve ever seen, we’re in love.” She blurted out wanting to make him as upset as he had made her these last few weeks of ignoring her .

Lewis was clearly grinning , she could hear his smug , beautiful grin through the damn phone .

“Cool name . Well If you’re happy…” he trailed off .

Candy was officially enraged “you don’t care?!” She almost screamed angrily. Tears filling her eyes .

His voice was careful as he replied smugly “do you want me to care sweetheart?”

She paused , sniffled then huffed loudly . “No. I don’t care if you don’t care!”

Lewis grinned to himself “okay cool. So just to be clear , you’ve moved on with some guy named Axl and you don’t care that I don’t care?” He teased.

Candy put down her poor cat and threw herself down onto the couch with a scowl on her face , wrapped herself in a blanket and tried not to cry.

“Correct.” Was all she hiccuped “well then- I’m glad we’ve cleared this up asshole. Thanks for not caring!” She made sure to get the last word in before she angrily hung up the phone .

Then she screamed into her pillow .

Only Abruptly pausing her long scream halfway when a loud knock echoed on her door.

She quickly straightened up and threw on Lewis’s hoodie that he had left last time he was here annoying her . Stomping to the door with the sourness of someone who felt like she has been dumped even though she wasn’t even in a relationship to start with.

What was her life?

She threw open the door ready to grab whatever parcel was being delivered , then froze as she came face to face with a grinning Lewis at her door.

Dressed in a beautiful dark red tracksuit set , skin glowing and hair braided back perfectly . Candy suddenly felt self conscious as she became acutely aware of her messy bed hair and mascara rimmed eyes , dressed in nothing but pj shorts and his hoodie .

“Hey baby.” He simply said after a few seconds of her gaping at him with wide eyes. Then he casually shuffled past her body, his band grazing her hip gently as he stepped into her apartment like it was his own.

It took her a few moments to gather her bearings before she was slamming the door shut and turning to him with a mean glower on her face . Heart racing in her chest at his sudden arrival.

“What are you doing here?!” She exclaimed shocked , and annoyingly relieved that he was finally there with her .

She kicked his foot , hard. Angry with him.

Lewis just smiled , leaned forward to gently run his fingers through her hair affectionately.

“Came to see you and your new boyfriend Axl.” His eyes darted to her picture of Axl rose on her wall as he said it.

Candy swallowed leaning into his touch for a moment before coming to her senses and batting his hand away.

“You just missed him.” She lied.

Lewis chuckled , amused ? knowing that she was lying and knowing that she knew that he knew that she was lying too.

“How convenient.” Was all he replied before taking a seat at the end of her couch, sitting on the arm of it . He looked up at her with his smile softening into something more warm and lovely .

“I’ve missed you. You look as beautiful as ever.” He told her softly , taking a hold of the hem of her shorts to tug her closer between his legs .

She let him. Cheeks flushing lightly as she gazed into his warm eyes , feeling her body turned to mush.

“Really?” She wondered then looked around him with a slight frown “where’s my gift?”

Lewis let out a loud laugh at how spoilt she was, though he supposed it was partly his fault. He never did arrive without a gift for his sweetheart after all.

“Don’t I get a hug first? I know you missed me.” He teased her, trailing his hand up to her waist and gently rubbing her soft skin beneath his hoodie .

She let her arms rest over his broad shoulders , pouting down at him.

“You said you didn’t care that I moved on.” She mumbled annoyed with him still.

He chuckled , hugging her to him . Resting his chin on her stomach as he peered up at her beneath his dark lashes .

“What? Moved on with Axl rose your imaginary boyfriend? Don’t be silly baby. You know I’m the only one for you.” He told her softly , smiling up at her with affection written all over his beautiful face.

Candy frowned down at him , playing with the diamond stud in his ear .

“I don’t like you.” She reminded him just out of habit by now.

Instead of getting upset , he just giggled at her stubbornness to Admit what he already knew. “Then why were you upset that I didn’t care?”

“I wasn’t upset and I don’t care that you don’t care Lewis. I just think it was mean to abandon me like that for three weeks . I thought you were dead.” She dramatically snapped .

She had watched him at his races . She knew that he was perfectly fine. Which only upset her more because then what other excuse did he have for ignoring her like that then?

Death was the only reasonable excuse to do that!

He rose a brow at her , lifting her hoody to look at the sparkly diamond H belly stud that she had on. The same one he had given her last time he saw her.

He bent down his head and gently kissed it, smirking to himself as he felt her whole body shiver against his lips.

“Don’t like me ignoring you? Now you know how I feel. Isn’t nice is it?” He mumbled against another soft kiss on her belly . Only pulling away when she slapped his forehead not so gently .

He looked up to see her glaring down at him, furious.

“I do not ignore you like that!” She denied.

He rolled his eyes “you told me to go fuck myself the last time I was here. Then refused to pick up my calls the rest of the week.” He reminded her.

She just scoffed “I was upset! I was bleeding from my vagina Lewis! Not everything is about you! I wasn’t in the mood for your games!” She argued.

He paused, then tilted his head with a slight frown. “You could have just told me that. I would have gotten you a heating pad and some chocolate. You didn’t have to be so mean baby.” He said.

She just sniffled at him , gently rubbing at the back of his neck with her fingers absentmindedly. “I’m not mean.”

The look he gave her was full of disbelief “no? Then why aren’t you my girl then?” His question had her stumped.

She spluttered for answer , blinking rapidly . “Well- cause I’m not impressed.” She answered him shortly.

He barked out a laugh “no?” He grinned looking up at her with eyes full of amusement .

“The jewellery and the clothes weren’t enough? The cat , the paid of loans and your car? Still not impressive enough?” He listed off all of the things he had gotten her this past year . Growing more amused by the second as he watched her stubbornly shake her head at him.

“Nope.” She muttered arrogantly .

“Then what would it take for you to be my girl?” He wanted to know.

She searched her mind for something “a mansion like yours. With a king size bed. And - and your Ferrari.” She said the most ridiculous thing she could think of. Something he couldn’t give her.

His eyes searched her face for a long moment before simply humming . “Will you stay at mine tonight with me? Roscoe misses you.” He said already getting to his feet .

He grabbed her phone and keys from the table , not even waiting for an answer before heading to her door. Knowing she would follow him.

She did .

“What will we do? I don’t want to bored all night.” She huffed as she followed him out.

Letting him lock her door, absentmindedly grabbing his hand as he lead her down her apartment stairs . Missing the way he smiled down at her , shaking his head fondly .

They were almost to the car when he finally responded , making her skin flush red and knees weaken as he bluntly told her

“I’m going to fuck you so hard till you know no other name than mine . Then I’m going to eat you out for however long it takes for you to realise that there’s no one better for you than me baby.” He kissed the side of her head before pushing her down into the passenger seat casually .

Candy just blinked up at him in shock , face red and belly fluttering . “Oh. Okay.” She weakly spluttered in response .

Lewis just smirked and flicked her chin lightly before closing the door shut, jogging around to the drivers side quickly .

And Lewis never broke his promises. And by the time the stars were twinkling bright , his name was all she could scream .

When candy woke up the next morning , it was to the sound of Lewis ‘awwing’ loudly at something .

She grumbled to herself as she pushed herself out of his bed , blushing at the fact that she was wearing nothing but his shirt .

Lewis having put It on her while she exhaustedly let him look after her and tuck her into his chest , kissing her head gently as she drifted off to sleep.

Yawning loudly , she stomped her way down the fancy stairs of his home . Grumpy from being woken up .

“What the hell are you awwing at you weirdo?” She called out to Lewis the moment she caught sight of him in the hallway.

He looked over at her with a bright smile on his face , beckoning her over for a hug. She immediately fell into his chest , still tired as she lazily hugged him back.

“Roscoe loves kitties . It’s so cute.” Lewis casually told her , stroking her hair away from her face as she tried to wake up properly.

“Huh?” She let out confusedly wondering why he looked so smug and amused . Then she turned her head and froze as she saw roscoe cuddled up with mr snuggles , her cat .

She blinked at her cat in Lewis’s home , with his dog. Wondering if she was still dreaming .

Then She glanced over to the front room and saw her Tiffany lamps and her cushions on his couch , glancing down at the carpet to see her heart shaped rug there too.

She gasped loudly in shock “what the fuck?!” She immediately turned back to Lewis with wide eyes, gaping at him.

“Why are my things In your house? Why is my kitty here? What the fuck?!” She shouted in absolute disbelief .

Lewis just smiled at her serenely , clearing pleased with himself . He leaned down to stroke her cat when he walked over to him purring , leaving Candy to just blink at him in disbelief .

“You said that the only way you would be with me is if you had a mansion with a king side bed and well…” he pointedly looked around his mansion and the king sized bed she had gotten out of . Grinning proudly at her as he did so.

“What’s mine is now yours baby. And also…” he dug his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out some keys .

He opened up her placed and gently placed them in her hand. “There’s my keys to my Ferrari that you wanted as well.” He said.

Candy felt like she was going to pass out .

Gaping at this insane man that was more than happy to give her everything he had. She felt her heart swell in her chest, briefly looking down at the Ferrari keys in her hand and all her things in his home .

She spluttered “but-what? I can’t just live with you! That’s insane!” Her hands were trembling

around the keys at his casual devotion to giving her whatever the hell she wanted .

Lewis just shrugged casually , walking over to her slowly like she was a spooked animal. And maybe she was , she sure felt like a deer in headlights then.

What the fuck was her life?

“Why not? I’m in love with you and I’m pretty sure you’re in love with me. I want you by my side , always. And what better way than living with you?” He simply explained like it was that easy. And maybe for him it was .

Candy just looked at him like he had grown a third head.

“That’s pretty arrogant to assume that I love you Lewis!” She snapped at him stubbornly . Blushing red. “What if I hated your guts? This would be real awkward for you!”

Lewis just laughed at her attitude “oh yeah? So the ‘please Lewis! Fuck me harder Lewis! Just like that baby! all that was because you hated me was it?” He smugly copied her high pitched voice screaming last night .

Making her quickly slap his bicep with a embarrassed gasp, face feeling like it was on fire.

“Lewis!” She shrieked while he just giggled harder

“shut up! I do not sound like that! How dare you?!”

Lewis rolled his eyes at her fondly “how dare me? How dare you! Why are you being so god damn stubborn? Why can’t you just admit that you love me? We could be married by now if you just stopped being so mean!” He exclaimed right back at her in exasperation.

But never angry, no, not with her. He loved her

Too damn much after all.

“I’m not mean! Fuck you!” She yelled back.

“You already did and will again after you just admit that I’m right!”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? Mr always right!” She sarcastically shouted back.

Lewis snorted a laugh “so you don’t want me then? Don’t want to live with me and drive my Ferrari?” He challenged her.

She paused , then fidgeted with the diamond tennis bracelet that Lewis had gotten for her , on her wrist .

“I didn’t - I didn’t say that-“

He grinned smugly “admit it then. Go on.” He gave her a nudge , utterly beaming by now .

Candy huffed like a child and rolled her eyes at him . “I just - are you serious?” She eyed him like he was playing some nasty , elaborate joke on her . Waiting for him to shout ‘gotchu girl!’.

Lewis squinted his eyes at her in disbelief “are you serious?” He returned the question to her in slight annoyance at her doubting him after everything .

“I’m obviously very serious baby , my god! Your cat is in my house and I just have you my Ferrari! What a weird, expensive joke that would be!” He exclaimed.

What a strange woman he was in love with he thought , so suspicious of him , Jesus!

Candy sniffed , clutched her diamond necklace on her neck (another gift from him) and slowly nodded her head.

“right . Well..” she uncomfortably cleared her throat , not one for being sappy or emotional over a man but damn , her heart was about to burst right now.

“Thanks babe.” She settled on lamely instead.

Lewis looked at her grimacing face then burst out into hysterical giggles . “You’re so welcome sweetheart. Come ‘ere” he tugged her over to him by her folded arm, grinning into her hair as he hugged her tightly to his chest .

His stubborn , spoilt girl.

Candy hugged him back without any hesitation, squeezing his waist tight . Sighing in content , she planted a gentle kiss on his chest .

“Lew?” She spoke up after another minute of just standing there cuddling in the front room while their pets stared at them like they were watching a entertaining show .

His smile was evident in his voice “yeah baby?”

She sighed in defeat , too happy to care about her pride anymore . “You’re so right by the way.” She admitted to him quietly .

He hummed smugly “yeah?”

She nodded with a huff “yeah.” She pulled away slightly to look into his eyes , he was so fucking beautiful it made her want to cry.

All mine. She almost growled , kissing his mouth just because she could . Lewis sighed against her lips happily

“Say it baby. Come on..” he whispered against her mouth , lips curling into a grin when she just sighed again.

“I love you. So much. And I missed you so don’t do that shit to me again. I’m not one to be ignored.” She told him sternly , pointing a nail into his chest.

He giggled and kissed her again “noted. Do not ignore my girl again.” He murmured then “and I love you too. You stubborn, mean girl.”

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have your Mercedes too? Just for Wednesdays?”

A pause , then “why Wednesday’s?” He asked amused.

She shrugged as she let him pull her down onto the couch to continue making out , side eyeing her blanket on his couch.

When the hell did he even do all this? She wondered? Still In disbelief that he had all her things moved into his home (their home now?) while she was asleep.

Was a sneaky little guy.

“Just to shake things up a little.” She replied simply.

Lewis didn’t even hesitate to agree.

Maybe she’d buy him a vegan waffle for dinner to repay him, she thought with a grin as she accepted his Mercedes car keys too.

She needed some new keychains , she thought mindlessly . Imagining the looks on her friends face when she rolled up in his Ferrari for their weekend brunches .

If this was a game , she had totally won. She thought to herself contently as she felt Lewis trail kisses down her neck.

A new mansion, two new cars and Lewis fucking hamilton as her man.

Oh yeah, she had totally won in life .

[threepandas]

Bad End: Soldier A

I'm pretty sure you know the story. Everybody does. Chosen Hero, Demon King, they fight, save the day, yada yada. Everybody supposedly lives happily ever after. Everything sunshine and roses. Puppies and farting rainbows. But... but it's NOT.

It's really fucking NOT.

I used to love reading stories like that. They were escapism. Grand adventures in a terrible, grey, slowly crushing hellscape of a world. But... but, FUCK. At least there weren't drauger! No demon wolves or skeleton soldiers! Or the FUCKING little flying bastards. God. I HATE those ones the most.

They have sharp, needle-y little claws and teeth like a SHARK fucked a TREE THRESHER. And they scream. Just... yowl and yowl in this ear splitting high pitch like they're trying to DEAFEN you ON TOP of trying to rip you apart.

That life was peaceful.

I was a fool to wish for anything else.

I am not the Chosen One. I'm not even a supporting character. I remember this bullshit little yarn, and I? Am NO WHERE fucking in it. I am just... just some rando, in this struggle of demons and Gods. The child of Some Dude. We... we had chickens. Fat, happy, lil hens.

I remember being ENTRANCED. I had lived all my life, before, in suburban sprawl. So chickens? Strutting around and chasing bugs? Tiny me was hypnotized.

It saved my life.

I half wish it didn't, some days.

That I died, sudden and without the chance to truely comprehend, along side my family. That my neighbors eldest hadn't seen me by the coop. Grabbed me desperately as he ran for his life. Our entire FUCKING village...

There were six survivors.

I was one of them.

And it's... it's all just? FLAVOR TEXT for the Chosen One's tale of Glory. A reason for why she's so NEEDED. So BELOVED. Look how AWESOME she is! Saintess, because when are they NOT? Hero, because it's all about HER. A god damned LOVE STORY thrown in, because THAT'S important, while people are suffering! Dying!

Are? You? KIDDING ME!?

Legends speak of a "Hero's Party". I know damn well it's true. That it WILL succeed. But FUCK that. FUCK waiting for her to "be ready"! To gather allies and turn from some sheltered little rose, into the warrior we ACTUALLY NEED. It's my world too. I was the one who had to help dig out survivors! Tend to the wounded! Fight off swarms! Hold back the dead!

I...! I was the one who had to LOOK PEOPLE IN THE EYE and... AND-!

B-Because sometimes? SOMETIMES?! Those bites DON'T HEAL. Can't heal! They are filled with so much demonic power, that the only thing they CAN do is corrupt. Fester. Poison. Sometimes you're already DEAD and nothing short of the oh so precious SAINTESS could possibly save you.

But she's not HERE... is she?

So you have a choice.

If you're lucky? It's JUST a limb. A chunk of flesh. But more often then not... well... The lucky ones have time to say goodbye. The unlucky ones get to be twisted and used against their friends. Their family's. And if you care. If you CARE AT ALL? You put them down before that happens.

Because they wouldn't want that.

It... it feeds a HATE in me. An ANGER.

No, that's not right... it's more like? It feeds...

A RAGE.

An ugly, burning thing. That's hollowed out my chest. Wrapped around my bones. Fueled by the memories of every innocent I failed to save. By the fear and the suffering, that just keeps dragging on and on and ON. An endless slog that seems designed to break men down. Destroy us.

I feel like it's killing the humanity in me. The kindness I once had. Like I am burning away everything but purpose. And will have nothing left when I am done. IF I am ever done. It... it used to scare me.

Now I am to angry, too tired, to be afraid.

Let me die. I do not CARE. So long as I TAKE THEM WITH ME. Burn them ALL. My brothers in arms, my sisters of war, those that fight and fight and FIGHT? They feel the same. We didn't fucking WAIT. Refused to watch the slaughter. Gaining ground only to lose it, losing ground only to claw it back.

Holding the line.

We can't actually KILL him. We know that. Only the Saintess can actually fucking END this nightmare. But his monsters? Those still fall too steel. And if we are to die regardless, why NOT in defense of our homes?

We've managed to push a path, deep into the Demonic lands. A spear point to stab the heart of HIS damned empire. We... we can hold it. MUST hold it. At all costs. For that flimsy, weak willed, half trained NITWIT of a child. So when she FINALLY gets off her ass and stops making goo-goo eyes at her trainers? She can come and finish the job.

Then get crowned queen of forever or something.

I don't know, I don't CARE. I'm going to buy some damn chickens. Fill a yard with them. Honor my parents and be the best damn farmer this world has ever SEEN.

Another crash against our shields. Screams as someone's arm breaks. As someone else is savaged through a crack in our barrier, as something probably gives. I slam my spear forward. Vital point. Vital point. Ignore the strain. The way your arm feels like a giant is stepping on it. Like some is trying to rip the shield from your grip. Hold... HOOOOLD!

Go for the eyes. Aim for the throat. Kidneys. Arteries, arteries, heart! The spear is wretched from my grip. I shout for another. Reach blindly, trusting my countrymen. I feel the grip of another one pressed into my hand. I slam my spear forward.

The fight goes on.

For hours.

It was some sort of ape-bear chimera things this time. But bigger and with spikes. No ones quite sure if they're in the "fucked up monstrosities" book yet. I'M certainly too dead on my feet to check. I sit an eat some fucking soup. Mmmmm, rations soup. Technically edible! My favorite flavor.

In the distance, sits the Demon King's fancy ass doom castle.

Any closer? And HE might be inspired to actually "deal" with us. I can't wait for the day it-An explosion of noise from the command tent. Everyone's heads whip around to stare, alarmed. But... but that didn't sound... BAD shouting. It takes us a long, long moment. It had honestly been YEARS since some of us had HEARD such a noise. But...?

W...was that?

Excitement?

I passed off my soup to a newbie. He honestly needed it more anyway. Told him to eat. Then got up and headed for command. Something was happening. As I got close, the flap was all but ripped open. A commander, actually? Smiling!? What the fresh hell?

A commander looking for someone. Spots me. Waves me over and in. I jog over. The tent is practically HUMMING with excitement. And there, on the tabke with the war map? Is an old, OLD dagger. Very... magical girl, in design. Flourishes, sparkling, and lovely dispite being what must be... what, centuries old? Worn to hell and back? What IS that?

It's the weapon of a previous Chosen One.

A Holy Blade.

Holy Shit. HOW. Where?! Where AND HOW!? I thought the royal family snapped all those fuckers up too show off! If not them, the Temple! I'm met with seni-hysterical laughs of disbelief.

A PRIEST stole it.

Nearly DIED doing so. Temple's probably FURIOUS. Gonna come to get it BACK, most likely. We're gonna have to move FAST. We're gonna only get ONE chance at this. I nod. Ready for whatever command needs me to do. Hold off some holy knights? Punch a priest? I'll get... SUPER excommunicated, but? Fuck it. If it saves lives.

No.

No they need me to wield the blade. I'm sorry?? WHAT.

It's apparently Maiden Locked. Fucking... Maidens Only! Got lucky? No holy weapon for you! Married but a virgin? Weaponless! Oh, fffffuck yooooou, creepy perv deities. There are LIVES ON THE LINE, in this, a GOD DAMNED WAR, and you LOCK the import weapons behind "mint condition pu-"!!!

The commander cuts of my, frankly, VERY understandable rant.

Hands on my shoulders. Looks me in the eyes. Will I Do This? I would have to take the knife and sneak behind enemy lines. Into the demon kings castle. And try to get the jump on him. NO ONE would be able to go after me. Help WOULD NOT be coming. If I fail... that's it. Game over. The demons would have me.

I laugh.

It is... not a cheerful sound. Not like it once was.

Is it even a choice? Of course I am. Frankly? I hope it hurts. I hope it's slow. Hurts every second and feels like eons. That he BURNS from the inside out. I'm gonna make him EAT IT.

Waiting until night would be suicide. They get stronger at night. Can blend in to the shadows. But they're cocky. They won't expect an attack just before that. So twilight is when I'll strike. Afternoon, when I head out. I... I leave my gear behind. Say my goodbyes.

I'm not the Chosen One.

Just some farmer's daughter with a grudge.

It don't think I'll be making it back. Don't really expect to even succeed. But by the gods... I plan to HURT him. Every piece we chip away, is one the soul behind us doesn't have to fight. I do this not for me. But for the child who will never know the FEAR that I did.

I will die so they don't have too.

The castle is dark. Humming with power I can FEEL but can not understand. Grand and sweeping architecture. Great windows that should let in far more light then they do. A blood red carpet upon bone white floors. The walls are black. It... some how merely stepping inside, seems to suck all color but red from the world. All heat.

I see no one here.

But I hear whispers.

I tighten my grip around the weapon. The only thing that feels WARM. These hallways are designed to make you feel small, I can tell at a glance. I refuse to give in. I am a farmer. A soldier. I do not CARE about your damn castle! I dig deep into my memories, keeping to the walls, and try to remember where the hero found her foe.

I trace the path in my head. Cut out the lost wandering as best I can. Right slightly, then forward, I think. If I am wrong, I can double back. Follow the book's path exactly. I move slow. As quite as I can.

Still... I find no one.

No servants, no gaurds, no resistance of any kind. Something like fear sighs like a specter down my spine, cold and vague. Something is not right. I do not let down my gaurd... but the longer it persists? The worse my paranoia grows.

Finally. The throne room. Magnificent beyond measure, in blood red and monochrome. Rare touches of gold glint and catch the eye. Stained glass giving it all a surreal scene from high above. The runner at my feet plush enough to render my foot steps silent. It is red... so very, very red.

The Demon King leans against one fist, resting on his throne, magnificent and beautiful like a statue brought to life. Carved of pale ivory and obsidian. Just as feeling as stone. A monster. Living testament that what's inside counts most of all. For inside him? Is nothing but a void. A malicious PIT.

I will see him dead.

On silent feet, I sneak forward. Only to freeze at the foot of the stairs to his dais, my eyes locked on his face. Horror seeps through me.

An amused smirk.

"Oh don't stop NOW, you're so close." Breaks the silence. Golden eyes open, lazy and entertained. "By all means. Try."

My grip on the dagger felt almost painful, for how hard I was gripping it. He... he wasn't even bothering to move. Didn't even see me as a threat. F..Fine. Fine then! If it was a mistake on his part or NOT, I would TAKE IT. Any chance. Any chance at ALL.

The pressure of that gaze felt immense. But I tilted my head up, put my shoulders back, and moved. One step. Then another. Up the stairs. Onto the dais. Forward, slowly. I paused, just beyond his immediate reach. Not that it was anything like real safety. I stared. Shaking. Knowing I was shaking and unable to stop.

He sat splayed. Reclined and leaning against his fist, robes rich and arranged just so. The very picture of indolent decadence. It was deceptive. I KNEW it was. A trap. But to get too him... I had to step closer. My eyes moved from the splay of his legs back up to his face. His smirk had grown teeth. I... I refused to run. I would finish this.

I stepped forward. Between his long legs, feeling distinctly like I was balanced over a bear trap, and lifted the dagger. I refused to hesitate. Wait to see if he changed his mind. I slammed it forward. Right through his heart. Glaring, as I looked him right in the eyes. The blade HISSED. Like acid meeting stone.

He laughed.

Grin full of unhinged glee, a vice in the shape of a hand clamped around my wrist, and the world SPUN. I slammed against the floor, the Demon King straddling me, at the foot of his thrown. He loomed. Behind him, above me, shown a magnificent window the lit him from behind. Like a halo.

"You didn't even HESITATE. You'd rip my heart out, if you could. Wouldn't you?" He says. Almost an whisper, nearly a groan, filthy with something that terrifies me and shouldn't BE there. "I KNEW I sensed something. KNEW you were out there."

I desperately try to push the knife deeper. Use everything I can to... to just-!

All I want... All I NEED? Is to see it come out the fucking OTHER SIDE. Please. Gods, PLEASE! End this! I'm gritting my teeth. Snarling. This BASTARD. I HATE him! I HATE HIM!

"Ah~ That's it, little one." He groans. Not even bothering to hide that he's apparently getting off on this. I'll kill him. I'll FUCKING KILL HIM! "Good~, that's right. Just like that. Give IN~♡ I'll take SUCH good care of you. I've always wanted a little pet. Focus it all on me. Give it ALL to me~"

My brain feels like it's on fire. My lungs filled with ash and flame. I hate. I hate and hate and HATE! I can't think. Something is... wrong? Wrong! The blade hurts to hold. Like it's rejecting me. No. NO! I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I may not be the Chosen One but-!

It finally becomes too much. The pain of holding the blade out weighing my hate. It's like ACID. My hand spasming away like I was trying to touch a hot stove. My palm is an ugly red. Wounded.

In one fluid movement, my wrist is released, the blade pulled free, tossed aside, and my wrist recaptured, before I can claw his fucking eyes out. I grit my teeth. Fangs grinding togeth-... wait.... what?

I stare at my hand.

At the black talon like nails where normal nails were, just this morning. And feel... horror. My... my teeth feel weird. My eyes hurt. Sides of my head too.

"Got you~"

He throws his head back in a triumphant laugh. The sound echoing like a nightmare. Even as I watch, the pigment of my skin is changing. Draining away to something even. Something almost too pale. Unnatural.

"I'm so glad you've decided to join me, darling." My hands are slammed down on either side of my head. His face inches from my. Eyes burning with something terrible. "I haven't had a bride in SO long~ following your progress has been FASCINATING. And now! Oh little thing, I get to KEEP you all to myself. Make you GOOD for me. Learn every inch of you. You should be excited, darling~"

"I'm going to make you a Queen."

[fatteningmenstories2]

Coached

Chapter 1 

‘Davidson a word please !”

What was it this time, Axel was already raking his brain to see what mistake he had made this time, not being the sharpest tool in the shed always led him to situations like this. And as the bustle of the  changing rooms slowly died out, Axel knew he couldn’t leave Coach waiting

“Come on Davidson - finished putting on your makeup yet’ Howled Coach from his office 

‘No Coach.. I mean .. ’ ah Axel was always a mess when it came to speaking to Coach, sure he certainly fit the All American stereotype which his killer 6 pac and biceps for days  but Coach was on whole another level, towering over anyone who dared to stand up to him, the man stood at an imposing 6ft 5 and was  jammed tight with muscle earned from his old wrestling years Axel was basically putty in his hands and it  especially wasn’t helped  by the fact that he was harbouring a schoolboy’s crush on him, but not wanting to keep the man across campus for his bite being worse than his bark so Axel knew that he couldn’t run from this mountain of a man 

“Coming Coach’

“Right lets get started’

Sitting in Coach’s office Axel felt like he was straight back in high school, designed to the last detail to make its guest feel uneasy -  Coach’s office was no easy place to be. Shelves filled high with trophies and medals, and walls littered with pictures from Coach’s own wrestling days and the  varies teams he was in charge of over the college, one knew that Coach Creed was not one to mess around with

Axel could trace Coach’s entire life through those walls, from a young wrestler no bigger than he was, to his old college team and finally to a buff muscular man winning accolades easily late into his 40s. All resulting in the 50 year old man sporting silver hairs and bulging veiny muscles sat before him. 

“Now I hate to the bearer of bad news, but Axel those no other way to put this … you  simply are just not fast enough for track’

What !!!!,  the heavy weight of all the gym equipment couldn’t to compare to weight that was being onto dropped Axel’s shoulders, he was speechless 

“I’ve been looking over your times on the track, and its just not good enough’

“Butt..Bu…’ His defence couldn’t even leave his mouth before Coach’s hand signalled for his silence. And with the ferocity of a bull with its eyes set on its target Coach plowed straight through,  dismantling Axels dreams on the side 

“To be honest this colleges track team isn’t going anyway fast  enough .. ha ha’ he paused laughing at his own joke “ And the team we’ve got is just outside your body potential’ 

He gestured, pulling the noose tighter and tighter around’s Axels neck leaving Axel frozen in his seat

“But I hate to see such wasted potential So…’ he stalled,  eyeing up Axel sternly ‘ Axel isn’t ? consider this your lucky day cus theres an opening on my Wrestling team, sure its a bit different from running around in the same circle all day every day, but this is a sport for Men!!’

He let that last sentence ruminate, his powerful voice echoing around the room 

’Now Davidson ask yourself, when you tell your kids about you wild college days do you think they gonna to care about how daddy ran around chasing his tail all day or more likely how Dad wrestled with men and triumphed’

All Axel could do was feebly nod his head to scared to even make a peep 

‘Exactly Davidson you get  it, now to be honest you ate on the small side .. ain’t you ’ ( It was like the noose reappeared only tighter), “But I am happy to take you under my wing and make a worthwhile man out you”

What could he say, he certainly couldn’t see himself standing up to Coach but this was his live he had to put up a fight

“I..”

“And before you say anything just know that, that spot you might see yourself clinging onto on the track team is long gone , its Zero!  Nada!  we’ve got a faster kid already lined up for it’

Throwing a whimpering dog a bone Coach buckled down again 

'So its either wrestling or nothing, you can kiss the scholarship of yours goodbye and especially your social ‘credit’ on campus - what you say’

And with his cards already played for him  Axel knew he couldn’t run from this,  all he had left to do was nod his head as Coach happily showed him where to sign on the papers and then  showed him out, patting him on his firm buttocks as he slammed  the door behind him 

The walk back to his dorm seemed like it could go on forever, Axel felt like he had just finally settled in, his classes were going okay, his dorm mate was great and not to mention that the gay culture had easily let another good looking lad like himself into their ranks. This was the first real opposition he could even remember,  all his life he could coast by on track and his looks and now Coach Creed was ripping it away from him with the ease of a man stepping on a bug.

Sure he should have put up a fight but when he got back to his dorm and his RA informed him of his notice, telling him he had a day to pack and move he knew that there was probably very little he could have even done.

The weekend ahead was jammed back to front, first after moving out and saying his departure to Jake his now old new roommate, he had the task of moving into the wrestling dorm. Being the last to move in and by far the lowest member in the wrestling hierarchy he wasn’t given much say about his roommate - who had been given the non-imposing name of ‘The  Boulder’ Stepping into his new room it was easy to see why the rest of the team had  landed on this nickname, Tony ‘ aka the Boulder’ was easily the largest wrestler or even man properly on campus. Compared to Axel’s trim muscular frame Tony was a behemoth, standing at must have only been 5ft 9 what Tony lacked in height he made up for in size, he barely fit unto his double bed let alone their doorway. Wrestling had given Tony a strong muscular body with arms the size of tree trunks and thighs that could break bricks but his apparent gluttonous diet paved the way for his fat boy gut and rolls upon rolls of fat. Despite his impressive size and importance on the team even Axel could see why this was the least desirable roommate, from  the floor littered with candy packages, the smell of old takeout and Tony’s easily explained laziness leaving the room looking more like a pig sty, Axel’s  new roommate was definitely going to take some adjusting to

It wasn’t just to the ‘The boulder’ that Axel easily stood out too, it was the entire team, sure Axel certainly wasn’t a stick with his firm pecs and his muscles for days but the rest of the team was just in a  whole different arena. Most of them were Axels ages some a little older but they all looked like proper men, each one beefier than the next,  packed high with body hair and muscle. And they behaved just like proper men too, when they weren’t training they were sparring with other, playing the latest video games cracking beers and even watching pornos out in the open. Not to mention their limitless appetites fuelled by their wrestling led them to be constantly be grazing on takeout and various meats. Finishing  them all off with round stomachs and fuller frames all over.  But too Axels surpise it seemed that the boys had gladly  taken him in - even going as far to nickname him ‘Pretty boy’ already, it wasn’t till later as Tony plowed straight through a large dominoes pizzas he learnt their real intention. And as he struggled to fall asleep in his new room that was filled with  Tony’s  loud snoring or the greasy smell of the empty takeout boxes, Axel couldn’t help himself but be a bit giddy thinking about what the next year under Coach’s ‘wings’ would grow into

                                            ***********

“Now Davidson to put this simply there just isn’t enough of you is there’

Standing in his briefs as Coach took his necessary measurements, Axel couldn’t help but feel a tad  bit vulnerable sure he had a great muscular boy that people would line up to get with  but as Coach noted his findings 

'28 inch waist’

'160 lbs’

“90inch torso”

The sound of disappointment that followed each taking was enough to silence him 

‘If I played you in your current state, I’m pretty sure a middle scholar could snap you in halve you twig, now you wouldn’t want that would you’ he paused as if waiting for an answer, all Axel could do was nod sheepishly as Coach continued with his tangent 

“Exactly Davidson - not to mention the embarrassment you would probably face compared to the rest of my team they would spit you out for starters’ Coach went on “No we can’t have that now can we, So don’t your worry a pretty little hair on you head’

Coach  said  grabbing Axel’s chin and pushing his head side to side leaving a definite pause in the air 

“Coach won’t have that’  he said to himself breaking the silence in a hush tone 

“We’ll get some meat on those bones of yours in on time”

As the meeting continued and Axel found that Coach’s style of conversation was more like a series of instructions belted out to him, which he was expected to follow with no hesitation, this was something he was happy to do. He loved not having to use his own brain for anything and following Coach’s instructions left little room for error 

“Now dress up and sit down we’ve got some serious work to start Davidson’  

“Look this isn’t going to be easy - but its a good thing you’ve got the best coach this side of the Mississippi on you side’ Coach’s southern thang always found a way to jump out 

“First things first before I get you out there on the ring - I’m gonna to have to get you into fighting state - and from the looks of things I’ve got a lot of work to do - haven’t’

Axel thought it was best to just keep nodding his head in ever pause,  too clueless to really contribute anything 

“Right you get it Davidson, I’m going to have to put you on a little bulk - well not so little I guess’ laughed Coach 

“You’re gonna get Coach’s special Bulk up plan, the very same one that got me from looking like a pipsqueak like yourself into the man you see before yourself’ making a note to draw attention to his own impressive frame by flexing his giant arms 

Axel hated how turned on all this Man spreading was turning him on 

“I own you now, everything you do, say and eat MUST be exactly to  my orders even to  the last crumb - have made myself clear DAVIDSON  !!’ raising his voice to pin the point down 

All Axel could do was simply nod his square head up and down to scared and even more so turned on by Coach rage

“Exactly, now first thing out you gonna do is  throw out those little girls running shoes - ain’t going to be doing much of that anymore’ Pausing to let Axel quickly take off his shoes , and chucking  them in the bin behind his desk

‘I making a man not a feeble little mouse - ain’t I Davidson”

 Allowing time for Axel to nod as his wriggled his unhoused feet Coach went on 

 “No more training, no more cardio you can’t forgot all of that instead..” He said getting up and retrieving something 

“You’re going to be drinking these’

Handing Axel the largest shake he had ever seen

‘What you doing staring at it - I SAID DRINK UP - didn’t I’

Seeing Coach’s veins in his head, Axel quickly grabbed the shake and started gulping it down, and it wasn’t hard too -  it was delicious. Creamy and Chocolatey he gulped it down the fastest he could, even more turned than before. 

“Ah I see you like it - its Coach’s top secret recipe, Don’t go spreading it around will you now Davidson ?’

Too sacred to even nod Axel just kept drinking it the faster and faster only pausing to let out burps of the delicious concoction

“Attaboy you’re even sounding like a man already, there’s going to be a lot more of that now, 3 of those a day or everywhere you feel like putting those gay little running shoes on  - you hear  and  I BETTER not  see you wasting any of that ’

 Gulp, Axel made sure to finish the very last remnants, licking his lips free of the delicious substance in order to show Coach’s an empty cup

“That’s more like it, now here’s your amended timetable’

Handing it over, Axel was surprised to really see how much Coach power  really had at this college, apart from his main Business’s classes nothing remained all instead replaced with gym session and hours tabled sport, even his lunch had been  upgraded to 3 hours and he was happy to see even more free time 

“Like the changes huh Davidson’ Coach said spying Axels prying smile 

“Don’t get any ideas, each one of those gym sessions are mandatory , DON’T EVEN DARE  go skipping out on me now and in those free times you going to be under close eye - you hear !!” 

“Yes Coach” Axel let out, not knowing where it came from 

“Now with that all worked out’ Coach said putting on a smile himself ‘you’ll be pleased to know  you’ve joined us just in time for photos - now scram’

And with that Axel grabbed his bag, quickly fixed his boner and left, happy to know Coach’s orders for him. 

Returning to the changing team the rest of the team were eagerly  waiting to pounce  - “Look who it is ,Pretty boy’s back form his private session’ followed by the subsequent wooing and towel slaps as a blushing Axel made his way to Tony who was waiting with his  new wrestling singlet 

“Forgot them” Pausing to take chunks out of a giant chocolate bar “They grow out of’   Bite .. ‘your just fresh meat’ Tony said in-between bites, handing over his singlet

Trying it on, it was loose all over, Axel was practically swimming in it, asking Tony to read the label on the back in disbelief 

“XS, hey no pressure we just run a bit big here in wrestling’ Tony responded slapping his overflowing gut which wobbled and jiggled under his fat hand

But this didn't help Axel, when the words XS left his lips Axel couldn’t help but be shocked, Coach was right he was just a pipsqueak. Looking around all the other men filled their singlets nicely, showing off their round glutes  and filled pecs, he looked like a stick  in his, compared to them . His pecs barely  touched the straps not to mention the excess fabric around his thighs that piled up. Looking over at Tony he seemed  to be  having the opposite problem, all though his muscular arms and imposing gait  was clearly on display, the real star of the show was his fat gut that easily pushed the fabric to its limited, refusing to be contained and flowing over the singlet  hiding it from vision. Surrounded by all the other wrestlers Axel looked  borderline anorexic, nobody had ever made him feel so small all the guys he had go out always compliment his body but that was in the past, even Axel knew that if he was to survive on the team some change were going to have to made 

‘Ah don’t worry about them Axel, when Coach has his way with you will be filling out that singlet of yours in no time, not lets get moving’ Tony finished gobbling up the rest of the chocolate bar

When the photograph came out, it don’t take Axel long to see  he stood out like a sour thumb not being helped by being next to Tony’s giant self. Where he had abs the rest of them had thick muscle guts, his toned trim legs were their muscular beefy thighs, he looked like a boy next to men, even with his American good-looks and chiselled  jaw standing out to their double chin and rounded cheeks, Axel felt pathetic  but looking on the bright side as he guzzled down his shake, Coach had stepped in and he was happy to follow all of Coach’s orders to grow into a proper man.

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Day 12: Somnophilia | Nighttime Kerfuffle

Pairing: Taehyung x male!Reader

Genre: NSFW

Words: 492

🎃 Sorry for not posting on time I am a college student! 🎃

A/N: FUCK tea(the video referring to consent everyone’s watched), I’m a kinky ass bitch. Although most of y’all beg to differ I LOVE consenting to the idea of my partner doing stuff to me while I’m asleep to get off. It’s like…fuck, yeah, use me while I’m passed out because you’re such a horny little bastard who can’t go five seconds without some pussy (or bussy can’t forget the gays and n/b friends!). Anyways…enjoy. The cover is AI-designed, btw.

⇤Prev | Next ⇥

___________________

He moved his hips teasingly at first, rubbing his hardened bulge against your ass, and seeing as you didn’t shift, he decided to proceed. In his fatigued haze, Taehyung began swirling the tip of his cockhead into your hole, careful as he was trying not to wake you.

“Mm…you have such a fuckable ass, babe,” His guttural moans were low as he quite did enjoy fucking you like so. “Oh, I’m cumming…” After a few thrusts he sped up, becoming bold with his movements. He was chasing his high, desperate to cum. “Fuck..” He pulled out and came over your ass, all while you turned over and slurred your words.

“T-Taehyung?” You called out his name.

“Yeah baby?”

“Did you cum?”

“Yeah. I came a lot on your tight little ass.” He said, spanking your rear lightly.

“Tae, I’m horny.” You said, demanding it from him.

“Let’s fix that now, shall we?” He slowly slid his warm cock into your pulsating hole, and you gasped, as every time he just let the tip in, it took some time for your body to adjust. You were by no means loose, even after all the sexual activities you engaged in with your boyfriend. He still often used lube but tonight, he was using his wet tip, and his spittle. You took a deep breath, all while Taehyung grinned, before spitting on your rear. “Thought I fucked you open the first time.” His deep voice had a hypnotic effect on you. You let out a soft whimper, unsure as he rubbed his saliva down your perky soft buttocks. You felt goosebumps raising on your skin from the sudden cool air, colder now as he rubbed his spit over you.

“M-must be because I woke up…I was more relaxed asleep.” You sighed, apologetic as you stuck your ass up.

“Hm. Is this uncomfortable for you, baby boy? Or are you okay?” You blushed a little at his nickname for you. He was a sweet man, and often checked in on you even when your mind went blank during the amazing sex.

“I’m fine. Maybe it’s just the position…” As you voiced your opinion, he soaked it in, paused for a moment before turning you over so you were on your back, facing him instead. Missionary with Taehyung turned you on every time. It was the way he hugged you, and whispered dirty things in your ears with that deep, buttery voice of his. Not to mention the look on his face when he came…it was some of the most satisfying moments you had ever experienced. Tae also never took anything lightly, he always had to go above and beyond. Fucking you into the wee hours of day was also nothing for him.

“Ah….I’m coming…” Tae grunted, before pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. You were covered in his juices.

“Love you.” You whispered, panting as Tae also gathered his breath.

“Love you too, baby.”

[douevenbleachbro]

I was excited for Rukia week as I always am, but the brain is dry and shriveled after the IR Big Bang, so this is all I could write for my Queen.

Rukia week 2024 Day 2: ❆ Fashion Brand

Title: By Desing (WIP) Rated T

“You are the spitting image of your sister! Hisana would be proud!”

Rukia gave them a small smile, bowing her head. She was the perfect picture of gratefulness and humility. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her late sister's legacy, after all. 

Except it had been Rukia the one that was obsessed with design and fashion and photography. It had been her stealing her mother's magazines and cutting out the beautiful models for her super secret scrapbook. She had been the one to take photography classes and sewing classes and beat out that pretentious Ishida Uryuu for the top spot at Tokyo International School of Design (a rivalry that eventually blossomed into a partnership when she started walking his Fashion Week shows).

But Hisana was the one with the looks. The soft eyes and small lips, long legs, and beatific smile made for the perfect model. It was like the sun chased her. Everyone just naturally wanted to be around her. She hated it though. She hated having her picture taken and being the center of attention in that way. Unfortunately, a few bad financial decisions and subsequent death of their parents at the hands of a drunk driver, left the sisters in ruins and forced them to find jobs wherever they could get them. So Rukia took the pictures whilst Hisana modeled, until an agency got a hold of her and made her into a star. Hisana’s stardom was bright but ephemeral. The president of the agency, Byakuya Kuchiki, fell for her head over heels and gave her his name after less than a year of dating. Their wedding was elegant and grand. Rukia designed Hisana’s dress and cleaned it in silence when Hisana coughed blood onto it. Six months later Hisana died, taking the sun with her. 

Whatever veil that covered Rukia seemed to have lifted after Hisana’s passing. Everyone had eyes for her as they desperately tried to get back some of Hisana Kuchiki’s magic. But Rukia had none of that. She was not warm and calm like the ocean waters during the rising sun. She was cold and tempestuous like the water during a full moon. Her eyes were dark and hard, her voice too deep. The designers and photographers would overlook Rukia searching for Hisana where they could, and she allowed it. A part of her still yearned for the childhood dreams of high-fashion and runways, so she took the gigs and walked the shows as Hisana’s little sister. She even took Byakuya’s last name as his sister in his life-long quest to give Hisana everything she ever asked for. Now she walked as Rukia Kuchiki, Hisana’s shadow.

During the height of Fashion Week in Paris, Rukia had once again caught the attention of the fashion world as she walked Uryuu Ishida’s show once more. This time he had brought on a new photographer – an up and coming prodigy named Ichigo Kurosaki. Dark eyes and bright hair, his leather wearing, cigarette smoking bad boy reputation preceded him. He was quick with his camera, capturing the perfect moment in an instant. Apparently he and Uryuu went to school together, which he brought up as he introduced Ichigo to Rukia. She couldn’t help but bristle under his intense stare. His eyes moved with her, following her every step. It would’ve bothered her a lot more if she wasn’t so used to being stared at. Although he didn’t just stare. He observed her. His eyes were on her whenever they were close, making the hairs on her nape stand. He rarely smiled but was never mean or cold. He maneuvered her like priceless marble, like glass. When she modeled for him, he barely even directed her. She would just stand before him and the flashes would go off, his smoky whisky eyes following her. Ichigo’s large hands cupped her chin gently, moving her face slightly from side to side, studying her profile. His fingers moved her hair away from her face, fingertips ghosting the length of her neck. If he wasn’t so close she would’ve gasped, instead she swallowed, trying to keep as steady as possible as Ichigo worked. Finally turning to look directly into her already dilated eyes, Ichigo grinned.

“I’d hate to lose those eyes behind hair.”

Heat blanketed her face, rendering her speechless until he returned to his initial position and continued taking pictures. Rukia took a deep, calming breath and smiled, her voice taking the saccharine note it usually did during these things. 

“Of course. I do have my sister's eyes after all.”

“You look nothing like your sister,” Ichigo scoffed, not a note of humor in his tone. Rukia felt the blood rush from her face, leaving her cold and shaking. What did he mean by that? Everyone said she looked like her sister, that’s why she was always getting booked. Did he see something wrong with her? Could he see what others didn’t - that she was indeed not her sister - not as soft, not as bright, not as beautiful. Was that why he looked at her like that? The boning of her dress constricted her lungs, the lights were suddenly too bright. Her breath was coming up ragged and harsh, making her feel lightheaded. A warm hand grabbed onto her elbow, grounding her. Ichigo was in front of her again, this time his eyes filled with concern. He directed everyone to take five and to dim the lights, then guided her away from prying eyes into her dressing room. Once inside, Rukia immediately loosened her dress, allowing air to fill her lungs freely. Ichigo pressed a cold bottle of water into her hand, startling her to his presence. She was very used to getting dressed in the open and in public places, but today modesty decided to show its face. She gathered the front of her dress to her chest.

“Are you okay?” Ichigo asked softly, his voice low. Chugging the water, Rukia nodded, gasping at the feeling of the cool water refreshing her heated body. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there with only the sound of her breathing filling the room. Her head was swimming with thoughts, all negative, about her past and her sister and all the things that could’ve been and weren’t. Hot tears threatened to spill over, but she fought them back, unwilling to allow this man to see her cry. But there he stood, not taking his eyes off of her, apparent worry radiating out of him and not a drip of annoyance or judgment. That alone almost made her break. 

After what felt like hours (it had been more like 5 minutes. The crew decided to take their lunch break), Ichigo shifted, moving closer. His hands hovered close, as if they wanted desperately to touch her. 

“Rukia,” the sound of her name in his voice gave her goosebumps and brought her out of her thoughts. She took a steading breath.

“I’m sorry I don’t look like her,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Ichigo frowned.

“What a dumb thing to apologize for,” he replied, head tilted. The frown was still there, now accompanied by a small grin. Now Rukia was frowning.

“I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand? I don’t think you look like your sister, is all. I mean, yeah she was beautiful but you…you’re…”

Weaker? Shorter? Colder?

“Stronger.”

“Huh?” Was all she could muster, too taken aback by his response, “What do you mean?”

Sighing, Ichigo got closer, taking her chin in his hands. Rukia didn’t think her eyes could get any wider as he moved her face slowly from side to side, studying her profile just like earlier.

“Your profile is much stronger. You have rounder cheeks which makes you look more youthful. Your lips are fuller,” his eyes dropped to her lips, which she couldn’t help making into a pout. The look in his eyes was making her nervous, “and your eyes.”

“Everyone says we have the same eyes,” she muttered. Ichigo scoffed.

“Everyone is stupid. Anyone with working eyes can tell they’re very different. I like yours better,” he grinned at her again, making her blush. She blew air out her mouth in frustration. 

“Do you always say what’s on your mind?”

“Yes. Do you want to know what I’m thinking right now?” He tilted her head closer, the distance between them shorter. Rukia shook her head.

“Show me.”

Without hesitation, Ichigo closed the gap between them with a searing kiss, leaving her breathless. Her heart had never felt this light and for the first time, she saw herself, her true self, in the eyes of the man who loved her for her and her alone.

[k-nayee]

Cutie Patootie

wc: 4.6k

Dreamer M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

'𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 day...another dollar.'

You snort at the thought. "Ha, wish it was like that. Can barely get a damn penny when dealing in this type of life."

The sound of your footsteps echoes around the stairwell as you slowly make your way up the stairs of the apartment building you lived in.

You struggled to pick your feet up, each one weighing a ton as your dull bloodshot eyes struggled to stay open with only the promise of a nap urging you on.

The thought of having to do another twelve-hour shift at the dinner tomorrow nearly made you want to fall to the ground and weep.

'I should've just kept my ass in America. At least I wouldn't be struggling as much as I am right now.'

"Why the hell there isn't an elevator up in this bitch?!" You nearly scream out in anger only for the reply to be an echo that softens every passing second.

Head shaking in exhaustion, you continue on your trek to the fifth floor.

A breath of relief escapes you when catching sight of the poster labeled with a rusty number five. The creaky groans of the un-oiled door fill your ears as you push it open with a heave.

'Wait a minute...' You still your breathing in anticipation for the high squeaks only to hear silence. '...no rats chasing me this time?'

"Well okay then!" With a pep in your step, you continue on your merry way with a happy smile.

It was until you reached your designated door when it fell. You stop your movements, apartment keys dangling halfway out of your apron as you analyze the pink slip before you.

"What?"

Ripping the paper off the door, you frantically look at big bolded letters with dread.

"Nononono! An eviction! Where the hell was this a month ago?! How the hell did I even get one in the first place?!"

Your eyes widen, quickly getting ahold of the keys, you unlock the door and step inside.

The door slams shut as you zoom into your room and throw the paper on the bed. Narrowed eyes glare at it as you began to pace along the carpeted floor in anxious movements.

"And eviction...think ____, think! There must be a reason for this to happen. I put my payment into the pile, so it should've been paid..."

After minutes of trying to find a solution, you finally fall into the squeaky bed in defeat. "Goddammit!"

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at the cursed sheet in sadness. "And I only have two days to move out no less...momma was right. I was getting too ahead of myself. Now look at me: A big ass failure."

'No, don't think like that! If anything you're proving to be more than that. So what if there's not a big house to your name? Or you not being able to experience and indulge in the luxurious life?'

"I know...but damn. A bitch would've liked to have it though."

'You alive ain't it? As long as you still breathing, you surviving. In the end, that's all that matters."

Weakly wiping away the leftover tears, you take consideration of your subconscious' words with a shaky breath of air. "Y-you right. Now is not the time to cry."

'You damn skippy I'm right! Now go in there, get a big ass cup of some of that Minute Maid, and think of a way to get through this.'

Your eyes widen in the realization of still having your favorite juice before sitting up with a smile. "Oh yeah, I still have the pink-lemonade one...Fuck yes!"

Walking into the kitchen with a lighter heart, you open the fridge and grab the cartoon only to stop when feeling the weight of it.

Peeking inside the container you freeze at the sight of only a good swallow left. "The fuck? I could've sworn I had half of a container in there. Unless..."

Your voice trails off when a long string of silky black hair came into view. 'Fucking Su-yeon.'

Teeth gritted in anger, you grab the nearly empty box and chuck it towards the wall in a fit of rage.

"I asked her to do one thing. One goddamn thing! Don't touch my fucking juice. Is it too much to ask?"

Having a habit to act dramatically when angry, you begin to pull out the little food left in there and throw it on the floor.

With your hand on the last object in there, you stop when the bright sticky note caught your attention.

A smirk appears at the messily scrawled message of 'Su-yeon's stuff: do not touch' sitting on the piece of paper.

"Oh? Well, would you look at that? Su-yeon's juice. But wait, she has a label on it? Of course, me being the respectful roommate I am, I'll just leave it alone...unless," slyly picking up the bottled liquid, you take off the note, "there was never a note on there to begin with. Oops?"

Unscrewing the top with a shrug, you take a swig of it causing your face to scrunch at the bittersweet aftertaste.

'Ugh, this shit's nasty! I should put it back...'

You laugh at your thoughts with a shake of your head. "Ha! I better not. Even if it tastes like shit I'll be damned if I do. Besides, revenge is what makes the flavor better."

A peaceful atmosphere surrounds you as you continue to consume the juice until half of its contents was finished. It was then the sound of the front door being slammed open which caused your eyebrows to raise.

Su-yeon was home.

"____! Come here quick!"

With the bottle still in hand, you slowly walk towards her room, little sips taken on the way there.

A shiver passes down your skin at the sight of a body-sized cut-out of a BTS member staring back at you.

Forcing the feeling of uneasiness back, you open the door to the sight of Su-yeon pinning pictures and dates to a whiteboard.

"Oh ____!" Her eyes widen with an obsessive gleam of happiness once she sees you walk into the room, "I've got something to show you~"

"Does it have something to do with making that k-pop group fall in love with you again?" You ask, cautiously staying close to the doorway.

From the first moment of meeting Su-yeon, you knew there was something off about her.

Whether it was pictures/cut-outs of the member's body parts plastered on her wall or a map that showed all of their previous whereabouts, it definitely wasn't a regular idol-fan kind of relationship.

Day and night she'd talk and gush over their features, a box filled with memorabilia of used spoons or bottled waters that she somehow obtained sat proudly on her dresser.

Claiming to be the love of her life, Su-yeon downright refused the thought of change happening amongst them.

You nearly had to call the police when she started to freak out upon the recent discovery of the maknae's hidden tattoos and talked of going up and forcing him to get them removed.

Luckily you were able to talk her out of doing so. You couldn't just let her go to jail because of it, I mean...who would be there to pay the other half of the rent if she's gone?

"I've finally made up the perfect plan to make BTS fall in love with me!" A big smile sat on her face as she walks over to the giant whiteboard decorated with miles and miles of strings and pins with dates.

"Hmm...really? Ah shit. That's what I'm talking about girl. Go get 'em," you dully feed into her talk with a gulp of juice, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"I know! I've been planning this for months, it's impossible for it not to work. Within a week, I'll be in the arms of my loves~" She twirls with a dreamy sigh, stars shining in her eyes.

"Really? Oh wow...I know you lying! How'd you do it sis."

"Well, you see...I was able to buy a potion from this old lady that promised that if I drink it, I'll be able to turn back into my child form. Not only that, but I'll be so cute that no one will ever resist me! Can you believe it?!" Turning towards you, her smile immediately drops at the sight of you rolling your eyes.

"...____?"

"This bitch right here..." With a sigh, you forced a smile and turn towards her only to freeze at her stilled form, "the hell's wrong with you?"

Su-yeon shakily lifts her hand, head twitching every few seconds. "T-that bottle in your hand...was that the one from the fridge?"

'Ha! Don't tell me she's gonna fall apart just because I'm drinking her juice?'

"Why yes. It. Is" Tauntingly lifting it to her face you take another big gulp with a sigh of content.

"NOOOO!" She lunges towards you with wild frantic eyes. You swiftly move over with a side-step in avoidance of falling.

The sound of cries and heavy thuds fill the room as you quickly drink more while dodging her tackle attempts.

"WHY?!" Su-yeon finally drops to the floor with a tear-streaked face once she saw that she's unable to catch you, "MY POTION! MY PRECIOUS POTION!"

Hearing her words, your eyes widen in shock before choking on the remaining liquid in your mouth. "The fuck you just say?"

"M-my potion was in there! You drank my potion! Do you know how much I had to do to get it?!"

You look at the girl in rage, the now-empty plastic thrown to the ground. "What is wrong with you?! Why would you put it in a juice container? Why not a goddamn bottle that had some white shit like Ecstacy or Crack labeled on it so I won't drink it?"

Your breath begins to speed up in panic, feet automatically pacing on the floor. "Oh god! What the fuck did I get myself into?! I should've just acted more mature and confronted her about my juice. But noooo! My petty ass had to do something stupid!"

You stop when a sudden thought came to mind. 'This was Su-yeon's long last dream of seeing them, and I fucked it up for her...'

Turning towards the heartbroken girl to apologize, you stop once you saw that she was nowhere in the room. "Su-yeon?"

"You ruined it..."

You jump from the raspy whisper of her voice before her hunched frame came into view.

Her body began to twitch more as she steps away from the doorway.

"Hey look, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was your-"

"SHUT UP!"

You flinch at the sudden gleam of a knife, her dark eyes staring at you with pure hatred.

"You ruined...evERYTHING! MY LIFE'S OVER BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"W-wait a minute! Let's just calm down for a moment. How do you know if it wasn't fluke huh? You're willing to kill me for something that may not even be real?" You're backed into a walk as she stalks closer to you.

Soft giggles leave her small frame, you helplessly stare at her as they begin to grow even louder and nerve-racking.

"A fluke? You really think it was a fluke?" She stops smiling with a glare. "I spent everything I had on that potion. My savings account, my parents' insurance money, hell even last month's rent. So don't tell me the potion was a fucking scam. And if it was? I was ready to risk it all."

A glare of disgust and anger sits on your face as you look into her deranged eyes. "You're fucking sick you know that? You are literally willing to ruin the lives of others just for some fucking idols? Get it together!"

More tears fall down her face, lips shaking as she takes in small gasps of air. "They are my EVERYTHING ____! If I can't have them, what's the use of living anymore?"

Su-yeon quickly wipes away the leftover tears before walking closer with the knife menacingly shinning in the light.

Tears of your own start to form once she raises the knife high over her head.

"W-wait!"

Pausing at your pleading, she looks at you with a blank face. "What?"

"What would happen when my family gets suspicious of my disappearance? You really want BTS to see their beloved fan going to jail for murder?"

The room goes silent at your words. Silent prayers fill your head in the hope of being able to change her mind.

A smile appears on her face. "You must've really believed that I'd spare you just because of some bullshit excuse. I've got nothing to lose now. So what if I'm taken away to jail? I'll happily live there knowing that the cause of my suffering is buried six-feet-under."

She raises the knife once more.

"N-no Su-yeon wait! I-"

Your words were cut off by a scream as the knife enters the side of your stomach, it intensifies when she suddenly twist the blade with a sickening smirk.

You felt as though your body was on fire from the pain. The muscles around the weapon contract in response before she rips it out.

Falling unto the floor with a thud, you curl up into a ball, blood flowing freely as it surrounds your convulsing body.

"P-please," you gaze up at her with blurred eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't m-"

A sharp gasp escapes you when she stabs into one of your legs making it impossible for you to run out.

"Tch, so weak...and I thought you black women were supposed to be all strong and independent. But here you are, weeping for your life because of some little ole stab wounds."

You gag in pain, blood rushing up from the back of your throat to join the pool that's already there.

Drowsiness began to take over your body when the sound of her footsteps seemed to grow distant.

'I...I can't go out like this...not this way...'

With much struggle, you were finally able to pull out your phone and press the emergency contact.

The dial tone rings for a few seconds before a click sound happens.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I need...help!" you cry out as your breathing turns into wheezes of pain, "please!"

"Ma'am can you tell me what's happened?"

"I-I've been stabbed...it's...really bad. I don't...I don't think I can hold on...much longer..."

"Just stay with me ma'am, send me your address and an emergency unit will arrive shortly."

Despite your vision blurring, you were still able to make out the figure of Su-yeon as she walks back into the room.

But instead of a knife, a paperweight of what seemed to be the symbol of BTS that was held in her hands.

"I won't make it!" You choke out as more blood floods your mouth, tears fell to the floor as you awaited your inevitable fate, "please...tell my family...that I love the-"

A heavy blow was sent to your head causing your eyes to roll back. Everything seemed to fade away, darkness wrapping you up in its grip.

'So much for surviving...guess momma was right'

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

A huff of exhaustion leaves Su-yeon as she drags your body out of the back of her trunk.

After knocking you out, she knew she only had a good amount of time before the police traced your call and came to the apartment.

Doing a short clean of the knife, she wrapped you up in her bedsheet and placed you in the car to keep away from prying eyes.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed before she finally settled on a small damp area in between two tall buildings.

"Hey!"

She tense at the calling of a voice. Quickly making sure that the face mask was secure enough, she tilts her head in acknowledgment.

"Do you need help? It seems that you're having a little bit of trouble."

"N-no thank you!" She deepens her voice with a scruffy tone, "It's just some trash I've been avoiding taking out for a while."

The male narrows his eyes at the way her hands fidgeted along with how she looked everywhere else but him. "...okay, if you say so. Have a good night I guess."

Walking away into the night, Su-yeon releases a breath of relief once he disappears from her line of view.

She looks down in time to catch the sight of blood seeping through the cotton blanket.

"Shit...I better get this over with before it spreads too much." Pulling the rest of your body from the car, a small smirk appears at the nasty sound of your head smacking against the concrete.

"Take my hand now...you are the cause of my Euphoria~" The sound of her soft humming bounces off the walls of the narrow buildings as if she hadn't just committed an act of murder.

Eyes landing on the piles of trash-bags, you're placed there before they are put on top to cover your body from open view.

"Oh! I almost forgot, silly me~" Ripping the blanket off of you, she giggles at the sight of your body rolling deeper into the trash, "can't leave any of my DNA behind now can I?"

Su-yeon's eyes crinkle as she walks back to her car with a grin. "Ha! DNA...I could totally become a comedian if I wanted to..."

With her retreating footsteps echoing into the night, it became fainter until the sound of an engine and car zooming away replaced it.

Everything was quiet...not a single sound was heard in the deep humid alleyway.

As the city thrummed with life, you laid there. A product of crazy obsession and petty mistakes costed you your life.

Never again would you be able to talk to your family, or be able to enjoy a daytime stroll in the park.

The only memory left of you was the pool of blood left in the middle of your roommate's floor.

Your wide, blank eyes that had held fear before you took your last breath stared off into nothingness.

You, ____ [Last Name] were dead...

'Wha...where am I?'

Or so that's what one would assume if it weren't for the sudden twitching of your fingers.

You were still alive...and for some reason, you wanted to die when your body started to glow.

Despite the injuries given by Su-yeon, nothing could prepare you for the feeling of thousands of hot piercing needles penetrating every inch of your skin.

Had it not been for your immobilization, you would've been screamed out in pain.

The once dark alleyway brilliantly lit up as tears of agony slipped past your frozen lids.

'Help...me...someone...'

"Yeontan! Yeontan come here boy!"

The distinct sounds of barks filled your head as you finally succumbed to the pain and passed out once more.

Almost as quickly as it came, the light faded away just as a small ball of fur ran up to you with a whine.

Its cold nose nudged you with more whines in hopes of waking you up only for the action to be in vain.

"Yeontan?!" Heavy footsteps rounded the corner before hesitantly running down the narrow walkway with caution.

"Yeontan?" His tense body relaxes at the reassuring bark before letting out a hum of disappointment, "Bad boy! Why would you run out of the apartment like that? Do you know how upset Taehyung would be if he found out that I wasn't properly watching you?"

Ignoring him, Yeontan goes back to sniffing you with more whines causing the male to frown in confusion. "Did something happen? What's wrong?"

His face scrunches in disbelief with pursed lips. "Wait...why the hell am I talking to a dog?"

Quickly pushing the thought aside, he pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight only to drop it with a startled gasp.

Even though it fell into the murky water, enough light was given to show your lifeless body amongst the trash and plastic.

He takes a step back in horror, eyes becoming misty as they take in the sight of the blood-soaked clothes and stab wounds.

Finally snapping out of the trance at the barks of Yeontan, he quickly picks up the dog and rushes back to the apartment building.

"HYUNGS!"

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

You jolt up with a gasp, eyes struggling to see past the blurriness as they frantically move around in fear.

"Hey hey, it's alright." A hand gently grabs yours as the warm voice sends chills down your skin.

You flinch away from their touch, body curling up into a ball only to wince from the pain of irritating your wounds.

They sigh at your reaction and mumble a few words along with the sound of scribbling words on paper.

It was only then were your eyes able to finally blink away the blurry images. The first thing you noticed was a man in a white lab coat as he continued to write on his clipboard.

He smiles once seeing your now calmed state. "Hi there. My name is Dr. Young, and I will be your doctor until you're able to leave. Do you remember anything before being brought here?"

Face blank of emotion you, stared at him with a hesitant nod.

"Good! Would you mind telling me what happened?"

Coming home exhausted as usual...

The juice...

Su-yeon and the knife...

Blood...so much blood...

Her taunting smile as she watched you bleed out...

His smile dims at the sight of you remaining silent, your face scrunching up in pain from the memory.

"Hey, not to worry! We can ask you another time when you're better. It's a deal m'kay?"

With a meek hum of agreement, you send him a shaky grin causing his movements to suddenly stop.

Moments pass as he continues to stare at you in a trance-like way until you finally frown from the uneasiness.

Realizing he was making you uncomfortable, Dr. Young clears his throat with an embarrassed smile.

"Well now, I'll inform the nurses of you being awake so they can check your vitals. The others will surely be glad when they see that you're doing okay."

One last smile thrown your way, he walks out the room leaving you alone in a pool confusion.

'Others? What does he mean othe-'

You freeze, eyes wide in surprise at the sight of seven men laying around in the blue and white-colored room.

Some laid in chairs while others sat on the floor with small jackets used as covering.

Despite their sleeping positions, what they all had in common was the dark rings that sat underneath their eyes.

'Were they the ones who saved me?'

The squeak of a chair causes you to break from your thoughts and turn over in time to see the sight of a body hitting the floor with a thud.

A low groan of pain leaves the male as his hands appear on the edge of the bed for support.

With curiosity burning in your veins you peek down just when his head pops up.

Stilling in shock, your heartbeat races as you're faced with one of the most breathtaking faces you've ever seen in your life.

"Oh!" His head cutely tilts to the side as he sends a giant smile towards you, "well aren't you just a cutie~ My name is Taehyung, what's yours?"

'Your future wife if you want me to be. Hell, I'll even be the side chick if I can't have that.'

You clear your thoughts with a quick headshake before plastering a smile. "M-my name is ____."

He stares at your shy actions, mouth dropped open in awe as what could seem like hearts floated in his eyes.

"Awww!" He reaches over and gives your face a soft pinch, "you're just so cute! I wish I that could take you home with me~"

"Really? What would you do to me?" Your eyes become lidded with lust as multiple heated scenarios filled your head.

"Well, first I would give you a little pink glittery dress to wear. And then-oh! Then me, you, and Yeontanie could go to the park so that you can go on all the kiddie rides. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Your lovey-dovey smile drops at his words, head lowered down with pursed lips as you gaze at him in disbelief. "Pink glittery dress? Kiddie rides?"

Taehyung eyes brighten more at your questions. "Yes! And then if you want we can go to this little ice-cream shop to get a yummy tre-"

"Motherfucker do I look like a baby to you?!"

He gasps, eyes widening before placing a hand over his mouth in shock. "Did you...did you just use no-no words?"

"No-no words?...are you shitting me right now?! Who the fuck says no-no words in this day and age? This ain't no damn Barney type shit my nigg-ah!"

You look at a frowning Taehyung in anger, hands coming up to rub your forehead after being thumped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you-goddammit!"

"No! No more bad words okay? Cute kids like you shouldn't use them, only grown-ups are allowed to." He wags his finger with furrowed eyebrows as his voice deepens into a scolding tone.

'Is this dude serious right now?' Staring at him for a few moments you try to see whether he was just playing around or not, and by the serious expression on his face...you knew he wasn't. 'Fuck it...this bitch needs to go now.'

With a shake of your head, you reach out for the nurse call button only to slow down once taking a good look at your hands.

Usually, you would've continued at the sight of the callouses that decorated them from countless hours of tedious waitressing, but the sight of small soft hands that seemed to have never worked a day in their life is what made you stop.

"Wha...?" Flexing and shaking them with sharp movements, you begin to freak out when seeing that they were in fact yours.

'Wait...does that mean...'

Your eyes widen in fear before quickly pulling the collar of the nightgown to take a look at your body.

The sight of what would usually be where your breasts were hanging, you were met with only a flat chest.

'Noooo! My precious babies! A-and...'

Taking your gaze down even further, you saw that not one single pubic hair laid in-between your legs.

'Oh sweet Jesus...please please don't let me be what I think I am...'

"You!" Taehyung flinches at your narrowed gaze, "take me to the bathroom right now."

"O-okay..." Grabbing your hands, he pulls you to the end of the bed with an inconsiderable amount of ease. With one hand on the IV stand and the other one the idol's arm, your hunched figure wobbled to the closed door.

Tears pricked your eyes at the missing feeling of the weight of your chest whenever you had to bend down or over.

"Here we are~ Do you want me to go get a nurse to help you out?" He opens the door, turning on the light as you stared at the tiled floor in fear of facing the reality of the situation.

"N-no...I just need to do something right quick. You can stand outside if you want."

Not wanting to make you even more distressed, Taehyung reluctantly leaves you alone in the small confined space.

The room was silent, the only sounds heard were of your shaky breathing and the occasional dripping of the IV as it administered the medicine.

'Is okay ____...just one look. One look to be sure. That's all, just one...'

Looking up to the mirror, you're met with the face of a very young and adorable little girl.

Her face was rounded with the touch of youthfulness, having features that could top even the babies you would fawn over on Instagram and Pinterest.

And if it weren't for the gaping mouth and eyes widened in horror, you probably wouldn't have believed it was you.

"I...I..."

| |

Taehyung leans against the door with a sigh of worry as he waits for you to call his name.

"Maybe she needs help?" He debates on whether or not to call a nurse or continue to wait.

"Aish! What is this child doing to me? She's already got me wrapped around her little finger...ah, such a Cutie Patootie~"

Gushing over the thought of you wearing adorable costumes and princess outfits, Taehyung becomes excited when gazing at his sleeping bandmates.

"I should definitely wake the others so they can finally meet her..." A small pout appears on the idol's face when a sudden thought came to mind, "but how can I wake them all in one time?"

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MEEEEEEEEE?!"

The other members jump at the high-pitched scream in alarm, eyes still covered from sleep looking around the room in panic.

"...that might work too."

∘₊✧───────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───────✧₊∘

a/n: part two? 👀

[peterlorres21stcentury]

unpopular opinion: mods should enhance a game, not make it suck less

also sprach Lorrethustra, the endlessly reincarnated

And yet here I am, making some desperately needed improvements to a game that, while fun at first, needed some serious thought and maybe another year in development.

So far I have made the following changes to Starfield with the help of the amazing Bethesda modding community, because I don't have a fucking clue how to create my own mods so I offer naught in return. Notice how entirely simple these problems are:

-Doubled the experience gained from any action (thanks to a second mod, having the well-rested perk from sleeping will quadruple it!)

-Multiplied the amount of credits for each vendor by 10. Because enormous, interplanetary juggernaut corporations of the future only trust their vendors with 5k in virtual monies in a 48 hour period. 🙄 Seriously, it should be 100x that, but I'm trying to be reasonable here.

-Made it so that random quests are not shoved into my mission log just because some guard made a passing comment while I was near. I always hated this method of quest-giving. It felt invasive and annoying even in Skyrim, as it assumes that every character would be willing to delve in that cave or join the Thieves' Guild or make deals with a daedric prince or whatever, but in Starfield it is an absolute plague. If I want your quest I'll ask around for it!! Stop force-feeding your players this bullshit!!

-Furnished the Starborn ship with such extravagant luxuries as: a few chairs on the bridge, and one (1) bed. Because even though I don't use the ship that often, it's still part of my fleet, so I might as well make it a livable space instead of the iphone store-looking, sterile white void we got (seriously, the modder just added some decorative assets that were already present in the game files and intended to be used on the ship. Bethesda CHOSE NOT TO USE THEM WHYYYY

That's about all for now. I was thinking of finding something that increased the storage capacity for outpost containers from 600 units to... something a lot MORE THAN THAT. Why would you make outpost extraction rates so high if you can barely store it all? How can I realize my dreams of becoming an interstellar freight/resource tycoon if my base is nothing but walls of stupid shipping crates (which don't share inventory automatically and need to be connected through a mess of wires even when they, you know, snap together and ought to logically share inventory?? but that's a separate issue)? If the dev team understood their player base at all they'd understand that we are greedy rapacious loot goblins who need moooooooaaaaaaar, damn your hide 👿

I don't know if these decisions were intended as some kind of meta commentary on the nature of your character or what (the Starborn is reborn into new universes chasing their fruitless quest for some vaguely defined power, therefore the meaning of life is suffering and so the player gets diminishing returns on their repetitive journey? Is that what they meant?) but as *cough* deeeeeep and philosophical as that may be, good game design it ain't.

To think I wrote this much all because I wanted a way to level faster than the default pace of "not at all." Because despite the game having no level cap, the game literally does not offer you enough activities to grant the necessary ~500,000 cumulative xp points to reach level 100. Even going through a new game+ multiple times and repeating every single quest will not be enough unless you have literal days of free time. I never felt so starved for perks in Skyrim or Fallout 4, ever, despite the xp rewards being roughly similar. But you spend higher levels in Starfield so very hungry for xp because the curve of points earned per level is, as far as I can tell, near exponential. And the rewards do not scale with your level, nor with game difficulty. A level 90 enemy will always grant something like 120 xp, and you have tens of thousands of xp points to go.

Sorry, but this especially is truly boggling my tiny mind. Not to rant about something so trivial; I am only too keenly aware that this world is filled with actual pain and suffering, but I'd really love to know what they were thinking when they designed such an abominable leveling system. A grindy MMO this ain't, my friends. That next perk point should be a rewarding goal, not an impossible waste of time. It's like one team carried over the xp rewards that would be comparable to Fallout 4 (you get about the same per average enemy, anywhere from 50 to 200 points per kill, I think) and then a separate clueless team said "I mean, it's one level, Michael. What would it cost? A hundred thousand xp?"

I could go on, but I have other things to do today. I want to make it clear: I do not hate this game! A lot of it is incredibly absorbing, and I wish there was more to it (outpost building, crafting, surveying planets). But there should never be this many annoyances and pointless barriers to make these mods a necessity.

[shannaraisles]

Devil's Dance - for @euryalex

A commission fic for the lovely @euryalex, featuring her Tav, Tara Lunarsong, and Wyll Ravengard - thank you so much for commissioning me, lovely, you were a real pleasure to work with! The banner was created using one of @euryalex's own screenshots.

Devil's Dance

Aevan will be there.

Tara shook her head, chasing away the inevitable suggestion of long-held fear that came with that thought. Aevan Covaldi, her former master and still a high ranking noble of this city ... yes, he would be at the ball tonight, held to honour Enver Gortash’s ascension to the rank of Archduke of Baldur’s Gate. No matter what she had done, or what he thought of her now, he would try his hand to drag her back under his control. She could not suppress a shudder at the prospect of being once more entirely at his mercy. 

A flicker of motion in the reflection, dragging violet eyes from their contemplation of herself to the entrance of the companion who needed her to be on top of this tonight. Wyll looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt, hands twitching at the finery they had procured for the evening. They had been invited, they would play their part. After all, this was the life that awaited him when his own father eventually chose to step down. He would be the next Duke Ravengard of the Gate, as was his birthright. 

The reluctance on his face was covered in an instant as she turned to greet him, replaced with the warm smile that she had grown so accustomed to from him. No day was now complete without at least one of those smiles from Wyll, and he never seemed to tire of bestowing them upon her. This time, however, it was touched with something that drew more heat to her skin, promising a thrill they had flirted with just barely over the weeks they had been travelling together. 

“Tara, you look ...” He spread his hands, that smile deepening at his own loss for words. “Beautiful barely touches the radiance I see before me.”

She laughed, cheeks warming with almost shy delight at his appreciation. 

“It is a wonder what well made clothing can do for even the most dowdy person,” she agreed, a teasing tilt to her head as she took the hand he offered to her. 

“You jest, surely,” he said, holding her arm out so that he could drink in the magnificence of his companion clad in silk and velvet to match the jewel-dark tones of her hair and eyes. “It is not the dress that makes you shine, my lady.”

“And it is not your finery that draws my eyes, but the good heart and soul behind your every word and action,” was her tender response, fingers squeezing his for a brief moment before her smile faded. “Are you ready to do this?”

He held her gaze for an uncomfortable moment, stone eye and living both seeming to share the pain of his reluctant duty with her. 

“In truth, I do not believe I shall ever be ready to be a part of this vipers’ nest we call high society,” he confessed. “But it is my father’s wish - and our own design - that I attend this evening. I am grateful that you will be at my side.”

“You have no idea how much I echo that sentiment.”

“Then, my dearest lady, shall we enter the dragon’s lair together?” Wyll drew her hand to the crook of his arm, laying his palm with warm comfort over her fingers. “I will not leave your side, I swear it.”

Tara let her relief show in her own smile as she curled her hands to his elbow, the two of them stepping from the rooms they had been given to make their way down to the entry hall. The ball was already in full swing, the new Archduke presiding over the celebration of those who knew his purpose and those innocent of it. As his guests, and guests of Duke Ravengard, they should have been downstairs over an hour ago. They could not put it off any longer. 

The grands doors opened, their names announced to the gathering, and all eyes fell upon them. And what did those eyes see? A half-elven sorceress arrayed like a queen, on the arm of the Blade of Frontiers, the devil son of Duke Ravengard. Those same eyes lingered on the horns that curled from Wyll’s head, one the warning flicker of lightning at the fingertips of his companion when she noted too many recoiling in disgust and fear. It did not matter how much Duke Ulder may declare his faith in his son - the transformation visited upon him by Mizora would forever be the first impression he made upon those he met. The nobility could be ruthless if they spotted weakness; Tara curled her fingers tighter to Wyll’s sleeve. They could not show any weakness here. 

“Ah, my guests! At last you grace us with your presence!”

Gortash’s voice cut through the silence, and it seemed as though the room took a breath. 

“My lord.” Wyll bowed, though his hand did not leave Tara’s as she inclined her head to the devious man sat above them. “Our apologies for our tardiness.”

Gortash’s smile was painfully knowing, the tadpoles squirming in their heads as his regard focused on them. 

“No apology is needed, I assure you,” he declared. “Were my companion such a rare jewel, I too would delay sharing her with the world.”

Tara managed to turn her grimace at the implication into a dignified sneer of a smile, glad when Gortash seemed to dismiss them with a wave of his hand, extorting the musicians to play once more. Allowed to accept the newcomers in their midst by their newest leader, the nobles and their warriors and spies turned back to their own scheming and sniping ... all but one. 

She felt his gaze before she found him in the crowd, standing tall, displaying the scars she had left on him with an almost perverted pride. Wyll must have felt her stiffen at his side, drawing her just a little closer into the warmth of his presence, his free hand returning to rest with tenderness over her fingers at his elbow as Aevan Corvaldi moved to intercept them. The man’s eyes settled with snake-like certainty on Tara, and for just a moment, she was thrown back in time, gripped in the vice of memory so tightly she could barely breathe. She remembered the leash settled about her neck, metaphorical in nature but oh, so real for so many years. She remembered the rules, the punishments, the suppression of her very being, cold numbness spreading through her chest ... and felt Wyll’s hand squeeze her own, heard him clear his throat to address the source of her age-old terror with no fear at all. 

“I notice your eyes lingering where they should not,” the Blade of Frontiers said, his shoulders somehow broadening  as he drew himself up, prepared to step between them if necessary. “You are?”

“An old friend.” Aevan’s smile was still as charming as it had always been, even with the steel-sharp edge of fury lingering deep behind his eyes. “You are thriving, I see, Tamara.”

With the numbness of fear fading, Tara looked into those eyes and felt ... nothing. No anger, no disgust ... no fear. Her lips twitched, almost betraying the smile that wanted to show itself as she acknowledged that finally this man had no hold over her. There was the uncomfortable stirring of the tadpole in her mind, telling her that Aevan, too, had been implanted, yet she felt nothing but pity for his state. After all, if she and her party were to find success, he would at last be defeated in every way that mattered to him. He would have to acknowledge that he was just one among many, and as powerless as so many of the souls he had ground beneath his heel over time. 

“No thanks to you, Lord Corvaldi,” she said, her fingers answering Wyll’s squeeze as reassuringly as she could. 

“Oh, come now.” Her former monster laughed his amiable laugh, but the coldness behind his gaze could not be wholly denied. He wanted her even more, now that she had proven she had no need for him. “You and I were very good together. Perhaps we could be again, away from this demonic underling you have acquired in my absence.”

This time, it was Wyll who stiffened at her side, stinging from the implication, and she who calmed him before he could speak in answer, marvelling at her calmness in the face of such blatant attempts at manipulation.

“I think, Lord Corvaldi, you will find that I am better in your absence,” she informed him. “I have no need for underlings when I have companions who choose to stand by me. But, of course, you would not understand that. You have no use for true loyalty, something I am certain the Archduke would confirm. Enjoy your evening.”

She offered him her sweetest smile, turning away with her blood singing in her veins, drawing Wyll away from the darkness of her past and further into the throne that might contain his future. He stepped smoothly with her, but she could feel that he was steaming with anger at the unseemly encounter.

“Easy,” she murmured. “I have been around people like this enough to know that he cannot do anything to me. But he should not have said that about you.”

“He said nothing that others are not thinking,” Wyll sighed in return, lowering his head so only she could hear the regret in his speech. “For all my father’s posturing, they will only ever see me as the devil in their midst.”

“The Devil Duke of Baldur’s Gate does have a certain ring to it,” she mused, trying to lighten the moment for him as the soft cadence of music reached them through the crowd. “Dance with me, dear heart. Let’s show them you are so much more than they seem to think.”

This drew a faint chuckle from his lips, the sense of acceptance there even as he stepped back to bow to her. It was the minuet they had first danced together in camp so many weeks before, steps that came now as easily as breathing to them both. Fingers barely touching as they passed one another, eyes locked on one another even as the crowd dispersed around them, all eyes on the devil and his lady as they promenaded across the floor in perfect time, each one in sync with the other as easily as their heartbeats found a similar rhythm. 

And there, in the gentle swirl of motion and intimacy, was the intrusion of voices, as the tadpoles squirming in their minds gave them glimpses into the judgement of the people watching them. 

... fiendish power to hold over us ... is this beast to be our next duke ... must have sold her soul to him for this favour ... Lord Gortash’s hell hound ... 

Tara saw the words strike Wyll to the core, saw him falter in his steps. She abandoned the dance, stepping close, curling her hands to his cheeks, drawing him down. 

“No,” she whispered, violet eyes burning her fierce denial into his. “You are Wyll Ravengard, Blade of Frontiers, hero of the Sword Coast. You are a good man, no matter the appearance you wear. You do not belong in this nest of vipers.”

WIthout a second thought for how it might look, or who might be offended, she pulled him to her, lips seeking his to still the roiling recriminations in his mind and sweep his thoughts clean of the judgement of others. Her fingers poured deliberately over his jaw, to his neck, gripping the butter-soft velvet of his doublet between his shoulderblades, dragging herself closer, ever closer into his arms as he clung to her. His kiss was almost desperate, needing to believe her, needing to know he was not what all these strangers wanted to see him as. 

“Tara ...” Her name drawn from his lips in a fervent whisper as she gently parted her lips from his, sharing his breath with her as he shuddered in her grasp. “What am I doing here? I cannot be what he wishes of me.”

She smiled, brushing the tip of her nose to his, fully aware that his father, the source of all his insecurities and uncertainties, was watching their every move. Aware that he would know she was responsible for his son’s happiness, even if that happiness meant abandoning the duty the old man kept forcing upon him. 

“Then be what you wish to be,” she whispered back to him. “Stay with me. Let’s see what we can become together.”

She felt a second shudder tremble through him, taking with it the burden of not knowing if he could walk away from the life that had been proscribed for him since birth. Of course he could walk away; so long as she walked at his side, he could do anything. And here she was, promising she would walk that path with him. 

His lips parted, curving into broad grin as he pressed a swift kiss to her mouth, drawing his courage.

“Be ready, my dear one.”

Then he turned to the company, who stared at the two of them as though they had lost their minds, as though their little display of fierce devotion was the very height of offence. 

“My lords, my ladies, and company all,” he announced. “I thank you for your cold indifference and unfeeling judgement. Rest assured, there will be no Devil Duke of the Gate. I have no desire to be a part of this company of thieves and villains. Please, make merry while you can. Your time is growing short.”

With a flourishing bow, he wrapped his arm about Tara’s waist. She drew the symbol in the air, mouthed the words, and suddenly they stood at the doors through which they had entered, a blast of force from his hand blowing them open with a careless gesture. They turned back to the crowd for a last bow, each noting the fury on the face of the Archduke and the quiet pride in the respectful nod from Duke Ulder before dismissing them all as easily as they themselves had been dismissed. Gortash’s opinion meant nothing to them, but the Duke’s smile was all the approval Wyll needed. Tara’s smile was heartfelt as she nodded back to him, turning to her Blade once more. 

And, arm in arm, the Blade of Frontiers and the Lily of the Valley stepped out from beneath the expectations of others, into a world of their own making.

[dontstopbereaving]

WHAT A MERRY-GO-ROUND

I have been on an Alexander McQueen kick recently, which apparently just means having a zillion Wikipedia and Vogue tabs open, immersing myself in every runway show the late designer put on from his debut to 2010, going through them as I would a director’s filmography. I am interested in how shocked and thrilled I can still be by images I first saw as a high schooler in the early 2000s, waiting patiently for the little QuickTime video compilations on the official McQueen website to load. Somehow as an adult nearing the age the designer was when he took his own life, I can understand with more nuance the charges of misogyny lobbed against him in his earlier work, the revulsion many had to the uglier images and nihilism his clothes seemed to express. But even moreso, I am realizing how much I have internalized his work and how much truth I found in it even before I had the words to identify it. Even when he evolved out of bird-flipping youthful rebellion against the often cruel and stupid industry he worked in, a brutality remained, enshrined in increasingly baroque and elegant structures, but refusing to go away, a thousand memento mori strutting with bald-faced honesty down the runway. 

I am thinking about a kind of feminine or otherwise alternative understanding of violence. I only use the shorthand of "feminine" because our mainstream western understanding of violence is so inseparably male. Mainstream violence is punctuation. It is a narrative device that incites problems and solves them. It is a thing to be overcome, to wrestle with and win or die. In Alexander McQueen’s work I find an ambient violence, one I think I understood on an instinctual level even as a merely macabre teen in Iowa. Violence can never be overcome, violence will happen to you and violence will live within you in equal measure. And so one must find ways to live alongside it, to lie down in it, to press ones hands against it and stare into the darkened mirror. Until it becomes something beautiful by force of will.

I just finished watching A Murder At the End of the World, and near the end there’s a dialogue between its two young protagonists, amateur sleuths chasing a cold case of serial killer and the women he murdered. There comes a moment where the days on end living and breathing this violence breaks Bill (Harris Dickinson.) As a man he is revolted by this scourge, in the way one is revolted by anything one could potentially be complicit in. It becomes clear to him that solving this murder solves nothing, that it is in the very fabric of the world. He is inconsolable, transformed by the epiphany. Darby (Emma Corrin) — the daughter of a Iowa coroner, who is probably on the spectrum anyway — can’t relate. She has grown up immersed in, perhaps desensitized by, this world. She wants to bring the killer to justice in the way one wants to solve a Friday crossword, because it’s the one thing she feels she has the power to do. This impasse, a seemingly subtle difference in perspective, proves insurmountable; the couple parts ways. I was mixed on this series by its conclusion, but this conversation lingered with me. In a TV landscape rife with men avenging murdered and violated women, you rarely hear a man talk with this kind of holistic despair about the phenomenon. Whether or Bill or Darby are the more evolved in their understanding of violence is left up to the viewer’s interpretation.

When Alexander McQueen killed himself I was living in Downtown Los Angeles, slowly emerging from what had been the worst year of my young life thus far. I remember reading the news and being driven out of my apartment by a sudden urge to walk. I headed up Spring Street in the morning before the pathetic little hipster boutiques of the gentrification-resistant north end were open. It would have been a Saturday. In my memory the streets were wet with one of those frigid Los Angeles winter rains that had left the sky stingingly clear and blue above the roofs of the darkened loft buildings. I was in a daze. The world that had killed this man that I did not know but had felt tied to and changed by, as so many had, felt impossibly bleak. And yet, at this point, I knew I had decided to keep living in it. My face was wet and I blinked against the light I had been so rudely dragged back into.

This week it is -22 degrees in Iowa City. The wind chill is -40. We are told not to go outside, that exposed skin can be frostbitten within 10 minutes of exposure. I am watching a lot of YouTube clips of McQueen shows and slowly exiting what has been the worst year of my young life thus far. I had a dream the other day where I gave away my dog, because, I reasoned in the dream, he had given me enough happiness and it was time to let someone else own him and thus be made happy too. Immediately I regretted this decision, and spent the rest of the dream searching for him in vain, cursing myself and my shortsightedness. Because, I realized, love and beauty are also ambient. They are not means to an end, means to some imagined stasis we call happiness. We have to live alongside the things that make us feel good, which is easier said than done. We have to press up our hands against our contentment and not fear it, let it overtake us and make us stronger. This has been shockingly difficult thing for me to learn. It was so much easier to lie down with violence.

The posthumous retrospective of McQueen’s work at the met was called “Savage Beauty.” That interpretation of his body of work never quite sat right with me, but indulge me as I try to re-interpret it to my liking: In his two or three years before his death McQueen made liberal use of an engineered printing technique he’d developed. Using patterns from the natural world and his eye for tailored cuts, his highly structured dresses and jackets became kaleidoscopic mirrored bursts of color that created an impossible dimensionality on the wearer’s body. They looked like butterflies, and they were the signature of Plato’s Atlantis the last show he staged before his death. In McQueen’s body of work I see both beauty and violence not as some wild thrashing thing slashing garments and flesh, nor as a mere state of being, but as the means of cracking open a confine. Of splitting a hardened cocoon and continuing on in a new body, no matter how boneless and weak it leaves you at first. This is the savagery: the uncultivated self and the sheer force and unruly optimism it takes to live in it.

January 14, 2024

[silverlininghills]

top 10 death cab songs i want TØP/tyler to cover:

(put in album order bc no way am i ranking them skjldfdskl)

passenger seat

when you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride when you need directions then I'll be the guide for all time

what sarah said

love is watching someone die so who's gonna watch you die?

talking bird - demo

but oh, my talking bird though your feathers are tattered and curled I'll love you all your days til the breath leaves your fragile frame and it's all here for you as long as you choose to say it's all here for you as long as you don't fly away

unobstructed views

there's no eye in the sky just our love no unobstructed view no perfect truths just our love, just our love and there's no verse no monument of words for our love for they can't hold all I know about my love, about my love

st peter's cathedral

st. peter's cathedral built of granite ever fearful of the answer when the candle in the tunnel is flickering and sputters and fading faster it's only then that you will know what lies above or down below or if these fictions only prove how much you've really got to lose at st. peter's cathedral there is stained glass there's a steeple that is reaching up towards the heavens such ambition never failing to amaze me it's either quite a master plan or just chemicals that help us understand that when our hearts stop ticking this is the end and there's nothing past this

(literally pasted the entire song bc i just love it so goddamn much skdjfdskl)

you've haunted me all my life

you've haunted me all my life through endless days and countless nights there was a storm when I was just a kid stripped the last coat of innocence you've haunted me all my life you're always out of reach when I'm in pursuit long winded then suddenly mute and there's a flaw in my heart's design for I keep trying to make you mine

when we drive

climb into the back seat and close your eyes I've got the wheel and dream of all the places only we will find I can't expect you to be honest or to be faithful every day 'til the end I just need you to always be a friend until the engine kicks and sputters until we roll the rubber off the tires know I'll always need you by my side when we drive

man in blue

can you hear my voice? in a high, lonesome rejoice sing a song for you in and out of tune and I just want to understand you I don't need to be your man in blue I just want you to see yourself the way I do I don't need to be your man in blue

rand mcnally - acoustic

with this rand mcnally atlas, dog-eared and frayed like old testament verses that don't make sense in this decade don't let the light fade I won't let the light fade chasing these roads into dawns I won't let the light fade falling asleep in their arms and I'm holding on

i'll never give up on you

I've given up on confrontation and I've given up on every politician too and I've given up on affectations and the dilettantes they all consume but I'll never give up, never give up I'll never give up on you

and for anyone unfamiliar w these songs/death cab in general:

[pekodayz]

uhhh............. ososan oc infodump but i laser u after u finish reading bc i am... out my comfort zone. vulnerable to everything (cries) I HATE BEING SELF CONSCIOUS . plz... read under the cut.. haha.

So I made three in one go, bc I wanted to have a trio...badly. They were initially just my basic ocs, but I realized it would be funny to change them and put them in hell. (stripped of their powers and forced to be human ??!!) Their og clothes were good (they're cute ashell but I NEEDED them to be in casual clothing). So I was thinking about ososan, then my brain clicked. After like 3 weeks of me losing files, getting petrified. drawing something else to cope, and staring at other ppls stuff... I came up with those designs. I AM SHY PLEASE FORGIVE ME and the grammar idk it's 3am...and im a bit nervous

So there's Aini (she/her..5'2) . "what the hell is that "fufufu~" for??" "..I-It's my signature laugh..shut up..". She has a complex where she thinks she's better than everyone else. Cocky. She's a (squints) a chunibyo...and a tsun___.She finds this world boring and a waste of time. She believes that she is a demon, and that she is surrounded by petty humans. Don't mind her, she's harmless. Unless she gets like flustered, then she pulls out a gun and gets trigger happy. (misses every time). She does know deep down, that she's playing a delusion...but she immediately removes that thought once she spots an unsuspecting victim. I think she just likes making rivals. She does get emotional and will break her act when she is at her most vulnerable state. It's rare, but it happens. She is a walking anime stereotype.

Then there's Molly (she/they..5'7). They are a sweetheart...most of the time. She's a bit of a pushover at times, but she does have another side. They care for their friends very, very much. She's the tallest of the three. Why does she always look afraid? Like they just saw a ghost...what...? Nothing is there, everything is a-okay. She lovesssss anything sweet. They get fraps...every, single, day. They can't help but drop an unusual amount of money on a sweet treat. She shares with Aini and Usiuii, they both r foreva grateful for her kindness.

Usiuii. (she/her..5'3). Stoic. Stop staring at me...why is she getting closer?? I don't know what's going on in her head, but she has some sinister vibe that travels with her every step. (jk she just wants to say hi :3!!!!) ...okay she does have some slightly evil tendencies. Keeps Aini in check by slamming her in the head with her bass. (just imagine Usiuii holding it like a bat and aiming for Aini's legs) She has a shark-toothed smiley face, wishes she can eat gum properly. High pain tolerance. She has a side gig. It's suspicious. If you do find her at that gig, do not approach her. She will spiral if she sees anyone she knows at this place, and will chase you down.

They all love pachinko. Molly thinks it's like Vegas, so she drags Aini and Usiuii with them. Aini loses the most, Usiuii is in the middle, Molly wins the most. Aini goes into a frenzy and starts to violently shake the machine, trying to force those damn silver balls to start pouring out. In the midst of her frenzy, Aini accidentally smacks Usiuii in the face. They both start fighting, looking like idiots. Molly gets her cash and pulls both of them by the collars with a disturbing look. They leave. Aini is quietly sobbing. Usiuii is counting Molly's winnings. Molly is staring at the sunset while pulling the two. (fucking idiots: she thinks while giving them a warm smile)

As for jobs: Molly works in the corporate world. She hates it...but alas, it pays well; they're just gonna have to force a smile and keep going. Every waking moment, her boss keeps giving them more work to do. Pushing her around...Molly silently gets angrier by the day. They are testing me, she smiles through the pain.

Usiuii and Aini work in a convenience store. They both love it, they can be as stupid as they want to be. Huhuhu!~ Pathetic humans in need of MY service?? Hmph. I SUPPOSE I can help you. "....isn't that your job." ".....uh....y-yeah....." (i guess u can imagine Aini leaning over the counter when a customer is about to pay...saying that...plz stop aini, you're being bizarre.) Usiuii gets realllyyyy close and welcomes anyone who comes in, she finds their reactions funny. Takes 15 steps to you: WELCOME...!~ (she gives them a wide smile, then she bursts into laughter)

The three of them would befriend Chibita. ummm bc they pay their tab as soon as they finish. And they love. love eating his oden. like it was a gift sent from the heavens. I guess they would also rant to him about their lives.

Aini thinks the matsus are figments, like how are there that many copies of one person...just there? (this is just her trying to make life a bit more interesting..don't try and school her on sextuplets, she will tune you out. ("I AM NOT A FOOL! I KNOW THEY'RE REAL, IDIOT. DON'T RUIN THIS FOR ME..." teary-eyed) Molly tries to believe they r all good citizens, blah blah blah... sees them in action. ....immediate mood change.

I think the 3 would befriend totty first....bc uh...let's just assume he still works at the cafe, okay? since molly is always getting frappes and stuff. She eventually makes small talk with totty, and yknow yay a friend!11!! They rant to him a lot, considers him a dear friend.

Ummm maybe aini would "befriend" oso at some point but like its a rivalry thing idk. it's funny. to me.. It would prob be over pachinko, aini won for the first time and she rubs it in his face. he wins, he rubs it in her face hahaha (stares at wall) .they find each other slightly annoying, but good company. i think aini would be playing one day, and stumble upon him being there..then stuff insues, omg yay friend. they both knock each other out. idk they prob get drunk one night and kiss but its like ewww cooties!!11!1 then they stare at each other. silence. "....that was gay." "....pardon?" (slams head on counter)

Usiuii hmm would be fwiends with choro bc she finds him funny .,,,looking. got em yeah. okay..fine jk they both love idols. but Usiuii does NOT want anyone to know. she begs choro not to tell a soul, threatening to take his if he dares. usiuii...what. she's supposed to be the cool one, not the one who goes bonkers over idols. but..yknow. they both fangirl over stuffz yeah...

WHAT IS ROMANCE. I DONT KNOW. (I fold on real-time romance…expect goofy shit instead. like in the anime’s!!!1!!)

umm yyahhh im exhausted. thank you for reading. i will work on their ref sheets very soon!!!!`` lhahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha oc brainrot starts......when i wake up in the morning . line up -> infodump -> ref

EDIT: i add stuff as i lay here in bed (steam comes out of head)

They all drink. but in moderation…maybe. then they beat the shit out of _____________ ____________ group attack i think. gag. haha (puts finger down)

who would get drunk (first to last): aini usiuii molly

Molly has warm hands, but when she gets nervous, they have the tendency to fidget them together a bit. Then they catch fire. oh no…..

Usiuii keeps putting her hand in the oden, to take a bite she gets yelled at every time. She says she feels no pain, therefore it’s gonna be okay guys. (she smirks, chibita chucks a hot piece at her)

Aini sometimes wears those anime head wing thingys for fun. but uhhh she plays the role. they’re not real, stop wearing them on the job. (Someone just roleplay with her for a few minutes. Then she won’t have to be so cruel with her words)

I think molly is like retsuko (yknow from aggretsuko) since their job pisses them off. she breaks, and goes on a long winded rant, full of evil. Then it wears off, and she’s all like “oh my god??!! im sososoosossoos sorry..!” then they look like they killed someone. plz forgive her.

okay they love u very much, but they might kill u in a triple attack (hearto)

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @writingkitten

I am currently making my way through finishing Chapter 5 of Hot and Cold (Wolf Jackson and Nadia Freelon fic) and working on a new fic for Arnold Mack from the 2004 movie, The Clearing. The title of it being A Decent Proposal.

Hopefully, both fics will be finished and posted in full by the second week of July.

Wish me luck! 🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾

I tag @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky ​​and whoever else wants to do this. 😁

---

Hot and Cold

“Okay, kitchen's clean, dishes are clean, but it seems like there's one more thing that needs cleaning,” Wolf mused.

“What else needs cleaning?” I asked puzzled, not noticing his incoming innuendo.

“Your pipes,” he quipped, before laughing wolfishly. “And I get the feeling that you need a deep clean.”

“Ooh,” I cooed before seductively saying, “You're right, daddy. I do need a deep clean. I need that badly.”

He chuckled.

“Well, let's go and get you cleaned then,” he suggested.

“Okay,” I said before teasing, “I'm so tasty, come and chase me, daddy.”

He grinned, knowing that I seriously meant that I wanted him to chase me to my room.

Without another thought, I ran around my apartment before making my way to my room.

And he followed behind, but was floating instead of running.

Not that I mind.

He couldn't keep up with me though, until he finally just appeared in front of me and grabbed me when I was about to run out of my room again.

“Gotcha,” he chirped, as he moved behind me and tightened his grip around me.

“Oh no. You cheated, daddy.”

“Did I? I let you get away from me before, honey,” he admitted, kissing me down from my cheek to my neck.

“No fair,” I pouted as he noticed my pendant sitting next to one of my design awards…

An award that was contested for a very small reason.

It was awarded without my name on it.

But that was how the awarding organization handled graphic design work. It was total bullshit, but there was nothing I could really do.

Wolf on the other hand though…he didn't let that stand and a month later I received another award with my full name on it.

And I finally framed it.

So at least he would see that along with the pendant I left behind.

“You finally framed your deserved award,” he observed, although he clearly saw the pendant first.

“Yeah, finally found the perfect frame for it. Thank you again for reasoning with the board.”

“Of course, honey. I won't rest until you're truly appreciated for your work,” he assured, placing a kiss to my dominant hand.

“Wolfie, you're the best boyfriend ever.”

“I know,” he bragged softly.

---

A Decent Proposal

Premise: Arnold is an underappreciated, high achieving sales representative at the Fortune 500 software company, Rivaware. And despite his hard work and preserverance, he's stuck in a loveless marriage and his new diagnosis of General Anxiety Disorder has caused his sales numbers and confidence to plummet. Once the highest earner every month, he's become a shell of his former self. And his boss, the beautiful and strong, Alondra Chanté Rivera, has notice. She knows about his woes and that he has an inappropriate crush on her. But she still takes it upon herself to help build his confidence again, by becoming his confidant and mistress. Her own husband be damned.

“Arnold, you can tell me what's going on. This is starting to affect your work and we can't have that. You can trust me, cariño.”

“Cariño? What does that mean?” he asked, before she leaned over and grabbed his chin.

“Whatever you want it to, Arnold. Whatever you want it to. Now, tell me what's going on.”

He trembled at the feeling of her soft touch.

So much so that he slightly moaned, which she noticed. She grinned and then slowly moved her hand down his neck and to the visible part of his chest.

“You like the way I touch you?”

He nodded.

“I…I…”

“It's okay,” she whispered in his ear. “I know about your wife…how she doesn't respect you or treat you well anymore…I heard everything the other day. What a shame, really. Doesn't know how good she has it. She has a handsome man that provides so much for her and it still isn't enough.”

His breath hitched when she said that.

“You just want some appreciation, right? Some well deserved praise? A little attention from the fairer sex?”

Did she overhear him in the break room?

She must have.

How would she know otherwise?

He tried to stop himself from truthfully responding, but his fast beating heart took over his motor function.

So he nodded again to her quandary, giving her the approval she needed to continue.

“I wish you would have just told me outright. Although I knew about your crumbling marriage, I wanted to see if you would be honest with me.”

“I'm sorry,” he blurted. “I'm just…”

“Ashamed?” she asked, making him put his head down again. “There's nothing to be ashamed of, Arnold. People fall out of love. It happens. My husband and I aren't on the best terms either.”

[greetings-inferiors]

It’s actually insane to me how bad security breach was (or specifically how much I didn’t like it). Like before it help wanted was my favourite game in the series. The dreadbear dlc was fantastic and made me so hyped for the future of the franchise. The way they talked about the game and what it was made me fall in love with it before it was even out. My fnaf obsession was at an all time high, I could not have been more excited for it. Then it released and me and my best friend, the two biggest fnaf fans I know, designated the entire day to play it together, just like we did with help wanted and the dlc (potential reasons as to why hw is my favourite, the in jokes we made about it live on today). And you could feel the enthusiasm drain from us in real time. As we realised how lame the roaming animatronics were. As the frustration of the game slowly scraped the rose tint off our glasses. When I realised the time advancements were scripted instead of being in real time I felt a part of me die inside. The Monty boss fight would crash after a certain amount of time so we were forced to speed run it to try and advance. We beat the game and when the comic appeared we were both like “this is it?” When we tried to look up spoiler free ending walkthroughs, the fire exit ending just wouldn’t work no matter what we tried. I remember getting to the pizzeria sim location, my favourite Scott-original game, and I could feel the pit in my stomach swell. Finding candy cadet was awesome, but once we got past the empty hallways that were supposed to have endos, and the blob (which took a lot of trial and error), the afton fight started and I immediately threw in the towel. My friend was like “no come on we can do this” but was so frustrated by the fight which clearly wasn’t play tested at all. We stuck through it, praying that Roxy just didn’t come (an instant death sentence, because they never once hint at how to get rid of her, Freddy even has a voice line implying you can hide, which no you can’t she can see you even though she’s blind.) and hoping that Freddy didn’t randomly just kill you out of nowhere. We did it eventually, even after Roxy had been chasing us, and the cutscene just kind of ended. God. I am not kidding when I say that it was my least favourite piece of fnaf media. And I had read every book. Played every single troll game. I felt my love of the franchise die in real time. Even after Ruin, a genuinely fantastic game (because it’s a different game from security breach), and Help wanted 2, the sequel to help wanted, my favourite game in the franchise, and a good game in its own right, both games me and my best friend played on the day they released that we both enjoyed, it just wasn’t the same. We didn’t even finish help wanted 2, we got to the normal ending and phoned it in. Once we collected two plushies I was done and wanted to sleep. I’ve only seen the ending from astralspiff’s full series marathon. It looks fantastic. But I just don’t feel like even watching a video of it. I haven’t watched any of the really recent fnaf theories. It’s not the new presenter he’s fantastic. I just don’t really get excited by them anymore. I haven’t read any of the recent books. The movie was great, I guess. I’ll play into the pit, but it isn’t really out of wanting to. It’s out of obligation. Like I’m a fnaf fan, I should play fnaf games, right?

It is wild how drastically security breach killed my interest in the franchise. Fnaf was one of my core interests, one of the things like undertale or kingdom hearts where at any time I could talk about it for hours. One terrible, awful game was able to make it something that I get a bit interested in whenever a new one drops.

[lizardsfromspace]

Halloween Movie Challenge

Every day in October, except the days I don't, I am watching a randomly chosen Halloween-themed horror movie for the first time. Or for the first twenty-four days of October bc my list runs out then.

The first two weeks...are below

TRICK OR TREAT

1986 / directed by Charles Martin Smith / written by Joel Soisson, Michael S. Murphey and Rhet Topham (and Glen Morgan & James Wong, uncredited)

A heavy metal-themed Nightmare on Elm Street clone (the villain even does the "hands reaching through the wall" thing, but with a speaker), with cameos by Gene Simmons and Ozzy Osbourne, the latter playing a Satanic Panic-spewing TV preacher. This one has a strange legacy on the whole: future X-Files scribe (and uncredited co-writer) Glen Morgan is featured in his only acting role, and the director went on to make Air Bud...and then define his career around animal movies. Fair enough! This one's pretty fun, with a long first act of high school bullying highlighted with a energetic chase sequence, though not especially Halloween-y, given its name (though the version I watched was titled Ragman?)

🎃🎃🎃.5/5

TALES OF HALLOWEEN

2015 / directed by [a lot of people] / written by [a lot of people]

The top Letterboxd review calls this "Trick 'R Treat if it was designed by a committee at a horror convention" and that just about sums it up. It has the requisite horror cameos - a litany of 80s final girls are joined by Joe Dante and John Landis, and John Landis is convincing in the role of a terrible person whose son is a monster for some reason. This one has way too many segments, and they're unsurprisingly same-y. Two stories have a twist where a child-sized killer turns out to be a demon, two of them feature gangs of evil kids, and none of them are very fun, though they feature so many of the winking in-jokes filmmakers mistake for fun. This is the type of movie where a candy will have the word "Carpenter" on it, written in the Halloween titles font, because hey. Remember John Carpenter? Remember? Remember John Carpenter? The oddest part is that this movie's format is very close to 2015's better A Christmas Horror Story, but they're totally unrelated?

🎃🎃/5

HELL HOUSE LLC

2015 / written & directed by Stephen Cognetti

Found footage movie that makes decent use of its rundown-Halloween-haunt setting & has some good scares with evil clown dolls, but is pretty routine, and does that mediocre found footage thing where it can't let any of the background scares breathe without a crash zoom and a scare chord.

🎃🎃🎃/5

MAY

2002 / written & directed by Lucky McKee

To call May a slasher movie doesn't really represent it. As a portrait of a loner among urban alienation, it's of a kind with Taxi Driver and the first act of Beau is Afraid, with unbearably real performances by Angela Bettis and Jeremy Sisto. May is psychological and restrained, striving for a queasy discomfort before it escalates into full-on bloodshed. This is the least Halloween-y film so far, but the final act is on Halloween night, and culminates in a shot that's haunting and lyrical in equal measure.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃/5

HACK-O-LANTERN

1988 / directed by Jag Mundhra / written by Dave Eisenstark & Carla Robinson

Direct-to-video horror classic featuring a deeply apathetic son of the Devil and a musical number featuring deaths-by-magic-guitar. Alternatively tediously padded and gloriously deranged, but then again, that's direct-to-video horror babyyyyyyy. Jag Mundhra had a career directing direct-to-video sleaze in the US, but made prestige movies in India?

🎃🎃🎃/5

DARK NIGHT OF THE SCARECROW

1981 / directed by Frank De Felitta / story by J.D. Feigelson & Butler Handcock, teleplay by Feigelson

A TV movie, but you'd only know it from its 4:3 ratio & commercial break fades-to-black. Dark Night of the Scarecrow is a creepy gem, well-directed by de Felitta - a novelist with a sideline directing TV movies - with an eye towards the details of small town life. The lack of gore is made up with by stark, elemental horror imagery, and the horrors of humanity: a mob murders a developmentally disabled man for a crime he didn't commit, and gets off the hook for it - gets cheered, in fact, by the townsfolk. But soon a mysterious scarecrow is appearing in the fields, and the killers start to die...not a killer scarecrow movie, but something subtler, chillier, the horror of barns and grain silos and farmer's fields.

🎃🎃🎃🎃/5

HAUNT

2019 / written & directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods

Extreme haunted houses are stupid.

While some use it as a mere William Castle-ian conceit, others take it seriously. Who could've guessed that if you replace themed scares and actors with people who will literally, actually hurt you, you'd still be scared? Only the Einsteins who act flabbergasted when the actors they hired with the pitch "you can hurt people and they signed something that said they can't sue you" turn out to disregard safe words. In Haunt, an extreme haunted house is a front for a murder-cult, which is more respectable than it being some guy doing the Evermore Park of frights. Haunt is a very pedestrian slasher, but a sincere one, and a modern one (the victims check the creepy house's Yelp reviews), which I'll take over a winking 80s homage any day.

🎃🎃🎃/5

THE MIDNIGHT HOUR

1985 / directed by Jack Bender / written by Bill Bleich

Delightful little made-for-TV number, heavily inspired by Thriller. In 1985, this was trashed for its cliches, but now it's the cliches that make it so endearing. This one has its own musical number, a starring turn for LeVar Burton, some quality zombie effects and a lighthearted air, and excellent Halloween-y vibes to it, of course, courtesy of future Lost director Jack Bender. It also has a weirdly overqualified soundtrack; I really didn't expect to hear The Smiths repeatedly in a made-for-TV Halloween movie, but here we are.

🎃🎃🎃🎃/5

NIGHT OF THE DEMONS

1988 / directed by Kevin S. Tenney / written by Joe Augustyn

Night of the Demons has a gnarly final act, but spends way too much time getting there, and too much of that time is spent with interchangeable assholes bumbling about.

🎃🎃.5/5

THE CHILD

1977 / directed by Robert Voskanian / written by Ralph Lucas

A classical Weird 70s Horror Movie, which means a relatively simple plot told in the most inscrutable way possible, a lot of stark tight close-ups and quick cuts, and a preoccupation with psychics. The last act is a bit of a conventional zombie runaround, but everything before that is chilly 70s gold. By far the least Halloween-y film here, but there's an amazing moment with a Jack-O-Lantern.

🎃🎃🎃.5/5

SCARY MOVIE

1991 / directed by Daniel Erickson / written by Daniel Erickson, David Lane Smith, and Mark Voges

No, not that one; this one is a regional horror flick from Texas, from 1991, and starring John Hawkes as a gormless nerd touring a haunted house - the type so anxious to avoid a snake pit he ends up falling into a snake pit, which, relatable. The wonderful aesthetics of a local haunted house dominate this film, directed with sly attention to detail by Erickson, which follows Hawkes' character as an escaped madman lurks in the haunted house. Or does he? A surreal psychological story more than a slasher, it takes a while to get somewhere, but that a while is full of local atmosphere (similar to Tobe Hooper's classic The Funhouse).

🎃🎃🎃🎃/5

Anyway