#i'm sure there'll be more at some point

[flickering-nightfall]

could you tell us more about the gift? :D

Oh, sure! I can stick some of my Gift drawing backlog in here while I'm at it~

The Gift is an unruly creature whose presence begets chewed wires and headaches wherever it goes. It's spunky and mischievous with a penchant for violence, and it revels in its job: to kill as much rot as it can without getting eaten by it first.

It exists only in an alternate universe where Pebbles is stopped before Moon collapses. Moon is damaged but alive - and after many long talks, Pebbles begrudgingly allows the other iterators to assist him with his rot.

The Gift's campaign uses the points system with an emphasis on rot kills. The gross cyan mixture on its spears is - via interacting with their stomach, in true slugcat fashion - weird altered barf. On contact with targets, "immunospears" explode like a spore puff and damage everything Five Pebbles related within their radius. This means you can kill even Mother Long Legs with good aim and enough food pips. Unfortunately, this does also kill neurons and inspectors, so the Gift has to be a little bit careful on its path of carnage.

Notably, Gift's goal isn't to eradicate the rot, just to help control it. If there's a way to cure the rot, this one silly creature can't do it for a whole superstructure.

It's been specially made (with love and care) by the other iterators so that Pebbles' inspectors don't target it. This is also why Pebbles won't murder it unless it shows direct violence towards him. His local group worked hard on this wretched being and they'll be very upset with him if he kills it. Plus it is actually good at its intended purpose. He just has to count the days until it keels over on its own.

Gift probably has some scavenger in there somewhere too, and maybe a bit of lizard. They're strong, but outside of fighting, I wouldn't say they're the smartest slugcat...

I've also played with the possibility of Arti and Spearmaster existing in this timeline. It ends as well as you'd expect. (I thought it would be funny if you could team up with Spearmaster and piggyback them around as your living spear generator though.)

There's some other stuff to the idea, such as a repeatable campaign where your strength and food requirement goes up every time you replay it, and a random pool of pearls you spawn with addressed to either Moon or Pebbles. I might go ahead and post that old campaign writeup still, so there'll be more in that!

[lilasamaaa]

The night we met | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre | Fluff.

Word count | 2.6K

Warnings | None for once! Enjoy some peace.....

Summary | When Reader's best friend sets her up on a blind date with one of her long-time friends, she expects anything but the evening she's about to experience.

Author's note | This piece is the result of yesterday's poll! Another poll will be coming soon for y'all to decide what's next :)

"I'm really not sure if it's a good idea, Alice," she sighs, looking over at the bed where her friend is seated, behind her.

"What makes you say that?" Alice replies, arching an eyebrow.

"I have a list of reasons, actually," she states, pulling out her phone.

"You and your damn lists!"

"I know you hate them, but they help me clear my mind," she says, clicking on a note.

"Alright, let's hear your reasons then," Alice laughs. "But I'm warning you, I'm going to dismantle them one by one."

"Okay," she starts. "Reason one is : I don't know him."

"That's kinda... the whole point of blind dates," her friend says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you agreed to this. I did not. You know how anxious I get when I don't know people," she says, head low.

"Lando is a really nice guy," Alice says, coming close to her friend and stroking her hair. "I just know he'll put you at ease right away."

She takes a few seconds to think, biting the inside of her cheek. It's not the first time she's about to go on a date with someone she's never met before. Even though she doesn't know him, she's not really worried about Lando. She's more concerned about herself, to be honest. She's not a model of eloquence, doesn't consider herself particularly pretty. She's sure her date will do his best. What she's not sure about, is if she'll be able to overcome her own anxiety about the whole situation.

"Reason two, then," she says, focusing back on the note. "I don't know a thing about racing. What are we even going to talk about?"

"Well, something else. I'm sure Lando would be delighted to talk about something other than work for once," Alice replies, winking.

She wasn't lying, she thinks. She really has an answer for everything.

"Shoot me with reason three, baby," Alice says, letting out a laugh.

"Reason three," she replies, eyeing her friend. "Let's say I don't fuck up, which would be a miracle in itself, and we hit it off. How am I supposed to maintain a long-distance relationship? We're not talking about Brighton or Cambridge, we're talking about another continent. Several times a year."

"Well, I'm glad you're thinking so much ahead," Alice replies, earning a frustrated grunt from her friend. "There'll be plenty of people who are in the same situation as you. You can always ask for advice from other WAGS," she concludes, laughing.

"You're insufferable."

"Was there a fourth reason to debunk, or are we done here?" Alice asks.

"There is, actually. That's the last one," she says, staring at her phone. "Every time I've gone on a date like this, without having seen the guy... They were never really... to my taste," she begins. "So I've never kissed them, never went any further. But if I like him, what am I supposed to do?"

"What's the real question?"

"Am I supposed to kiss him on the first date? I don't want him to think I'm easy. Is it better to play hard to get and..."

"Wow, you're overthinking this," Alice says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't have any answer to give you. Just... Go with the flow. And if you're not sure about what to do, let him take the lead. Okay?"

An hour later, she's walking through the streets of Bristol, trying to calm her breathing, her thoughts, her already racing heart. She's checked the address Lando had sent her about ten times before leaving Alice's apartment. On principle, she takes out her phone, checking one last time. Her phone indicates that the restaurant is less than a minute's walk away, at the corner of the street she's on. There's still time to turn back, she thinks, before gathering herself. No. He doesn't deserve that.

In front of the restaurant, she casts a quick glance inside, checking if he's already there, before remembering that she doesn't even know what he looks like. Well, she has a vague idea. She's seen pictures on Alice's Facebook and Instagram over the years, but his precise features escape her. She remembers curly hair, beauty spots. Not much more. She's not sure if she would recognize him in a crowd.

She pushes the door and slips inside the buzzing restaurant, politely greeting the waitress who welcomes her.

"I have a reservation for two," she says. "The name's Norris."

"Ah yes, he's already here, in the second room. I'll take you to him," the waitress replies, flashing a smile.

Her heart stops. He's already here? She deliberately arrived fifteen minutes early to have time to settle down quietly, to gather herself. To wash her hands if they're too sweaty. This was not how it was supposed to go at all, she thinks, feeling the anxiety rise.

The waitress guides her through the tables to the small room at the back of the restaurant. On the way, her brain disconnects, giving way to total panic. I knew it was a bad idea, she tells herself, biting her lip. I'm going to make a fool of myself. The waitress suddenly stops, saying something that her brain doesn't comprehend before walking away and she looks up, meeting his gaze.

Oh, wow, she thinks, eyes widening. That man is too handsome for his own good.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you" he says, extending a bouquet of white tulips to her. "Alice said those were your favorites."

She smiles, taking the bouquet before burying her nose in it. Alice, you little sneak.

"Thank you so much," she replies, feeling her cheeks flush. "They're stunning."

Lando pulls out her chair before sitting back down, not taking his eyes off her. Feeling his gaze on her, she dives intensely into reading the menu. Or rather, she pretends to, because she's not even reading, just trying to avoid the attention the driver is giving her.

"You seem nervous," he states, still looking at her.

Feeling her cheeks turn red, she holds her menu higher in front of her face, hiding a little more. "Hey," he says, putting his finger on the menu to lower it. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at this," she replies, finally looking at him. "Dates, conversations, one-on-ones. It's not about you, I swear."

There we go, she thinks, head low. We've been sitting for ten minutes and I've already messed everything up.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asks, and she looks up, furrowing her brows.

"What?"

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that wasn't the intention," he says. "A romantic dinner may be a bit much for a first date. So, if you want to go somewhere else, do something else, it's not a problem."

"But... We're already sitting," she says, confused.

"It's no big deal," he replies, shrugging. "The restaurant is packed, they won't go bankrupt because we leave. We can just tell them we don't like anything on the menu."

She lets out a laugh, covering her mouth, astonished by the driver's suggestion.

"If you could go anywhere, a place where you feel comfortable and safe, where would you go?" he asks, his big eyes detailing her.

She thinks for a moment, looking upwards, biting her lip again.

"If we really had no limits... I'd go to the sea," she replies, thoughtful.

"Let's go then," Lando says, rising up and taking his jacket.

"What? Lando, we can't do that," she says, still sitting. "The good beaches are like, an hour drive away."

But Lando has already circled the table, jacket in hand, extending his hand to her.

"My car's parked outside," he replies.

She doesn't understand what's happening, so for once, she sets aside her brain and listens to her heart, grasping his hand and allowing him to guide her towards the restaurant's exit, the driver only stopping to explain briefly to the very understanding waitress that an emergency has come up and they have to leave, carefully slipping several bills in her hand as a tip - and as compensation.

Outside, Lando leads her to his car, their hands still intertwined, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. He opens the door for her and she slips inside, her heart racing.

"I've never done anything like this in my entire life," she says, staring straight ahead.

"You should never force yourself to do something you don't want to do, though," he replies, looking through the rear window to reverse, leaning indirectly towards her. His scent reaches her nose and she can't help but look at him closely, detailing every detail of his profile. His clear eyes. His beauty spots that remind her of constellations. The curly lock of hair that crosses his forehead.

"Does Ogmore work for you?" he asks, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Ogmore's perfect," she replies, eyes glistening.

They set off, and as the English countryside landscape passes by through the window, she notices that for the first time since she left Alice's apartment, she isn't feeling anxious. Her heart still beats just as fast, sure, but she suspects it's not really because of stress anymore. Lando rummages between their seats and eventually pulls out a cable, which he hands to her.

"I don't mind driving, but you're the DJ," he says, laughing. "Put on some music. Let me know who you are."

She grabs the cable before connecting it to her phone, scrolling through her Spotify playlist. So you want to know who I am, huh? she thinks, blushing again, before clicking on her favorite song.

The first notes of "I'm Outta Time" by Oasis resonate in the car, and Lando shoots her a surprised look.

"I actually love that song," he says, smirking. "What does it tell about you?"

"Well," she starts. "As you must be starting to suspect, I strongly identify with the idea that the sea is the only place that manages to calm me down, where I truly feel free."

"I'm with you on that one," he replies.

"And then... It's quite personal, but to me, the song's about someone who's lonely. Someone seeking comfort, a pillar, someone who can support them through everything. But also someone they'd be willing to let go out of love."

Lando turns his head towards her, and she gets lost in the softness and understanding reflected in his eyes. The song comes to an end, and she clicks on "On Melancholy Hill" by Gorillaz.

"I promise I'm not depressed," she says, meeting his gaze, while he lets out a laugh.

"This one's talking about the sea, again," he states.

"There's that," she says. "And there's this dreamy feeling. It's about frustration, about pressuring yourself to achieve big things, when maybe..." she stops for a second. "Maybe just being with your person is enough. Maybe there's no need for more," she finishes, looking out the window, troubled by the feeling of having said too much.

"I get it," he says, still looking at the road ahead.

"You do?" she asks.

"Of course. I'm not the last one to have dreams and goals, as you can imagine. But at the end of the day, when all that's over, what's left? What do you turn to?"

The rest of the journey goes on in the same way. She plays a song, explains why she likes it, what it makes her feel, what it reminds her of. Lando listens attentively, interweaving her narrative with his own anecdotes, sharing his thoughts, his fears. That's much more intimate than a restaurant, she thinks. But somehow, she doesn't mind.

Forty minutes later, a sign indicates that Ogmore is the next exit, and Lando turns onto the narrow road, which soon becomes a path. They leave the car in a parking lot, where only a few cars are parked before embarking on the sandy trail. Before them, the sun has begun to set, tinting the sky with orange, pink, and violet hues.

"Just in time," Lando says before plopping down on the sand. She sits beside him, closing her eyes. Absorbing the healing sound of the waves.

"Thank you so much for this, Lando. You have no idea how much it means to me," she says, feeling emotional.

They both lie there, side by side, without saying a word, lulled by the sound of the waves.

"Do you remember the night we met?" Lando suddenly asks, looking at the sky and the stars that the onset of night begins to reveal.

"What do you mean?" she asks, turning on her side to look at him.

"It was last year," Lando starts, as she furrows her brows, completely lost.

"I'm not sure I understand," she replies, confused. "I've seen you in pictures... But this is the first time we meet."

"Alice's birthday, in London," the driver specifies, and she dives into her thoughts, trying to rewind time. "You were wearing a black dress. Backless."

"I... I remember the birthday, and the dress," she begins. "But I don't remember you. Well, I remember Alice saying you had something come up," she continues, lost.

"I had a work function, couldn't get away. But I still stopped by, dropped off Alice's gift," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Lando," she says, embarrassed. "I don't remember seeing you."

"We crossed paths in one of the hallways of the bar. You were leaning against a wall, talking to someone... Jeff? Greg?" he says, closing his eyes as if trying to remember.

"Jeff? My boyfriend at the time?"

"Yes, that was him. You two were arguing about something, I can't remember what. The tone started to escalate, and you walked off towards the restroom."

"I remember that."

"I found myself in front of Jeff, and I told him, "You shouldn't argue with a pretty girl like that. She deserves better". He told me to fuck off, to mind my business, and left," he recalls, laughing.

"Wow, I had no idea," she says. "Him and I broke up like, four months after that anyway."

"I know. Alice told me."

"Why would she tell you that? It must not be of much interest to you."

"I'd mentioned to her that I found you beautiful. In fact, to be honest, I think I said you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen," the driver says. "So one morning, she texted me. Said something like... "She broke up with Jeff. Time to grow a pair."

"Wow," she says, laughing in shock. "I didn’t know that."

Silence falls. Neither speaks for several seconds. He, wondering if he's said too much. Her, wondering what she should conclude from the driver's words.

"So..." she starts. "When Alice told me that she had planned a blind date..."

"It was my idea," he says, meeting her eyes. "But we couldn't say that."

"Oh, my god," she says, laughing again. "I can't believe you two."

A particularly turbulent wave crashes at their feet, making them yelp and quickly stand up. They're suddenly face to face. Wrapped in a heavy silence. One that cannot last.

"So you did, then," she finally says.

"What?"

"You grew a pair," she replies as he bursts out laughing.

"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asks, taking a step forward.

"I'm... quite surprised, I won't lie. But I'm not angry, no. I've never had a first date like this," she confesses. "I've never felt so listened to, so understood... In so little time. It started off badly, and yet you... you made me feel like I could be myself."

"You can," Lando says, taking her hand. "That's all I want."

"Will you think I'm moving too fast if I kiss you?" she suddenly asks.

"No," he says, coming closer until their breaths meet. "I won't."

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | fucking machine

pairing | porn director!ari levinson x pornstar!reader

warnings | reader is an amateur pornstar, ari is her beloved director. emphasis on safe/consensual sex practices (safe word mention.) mild dom!ari vibes. foreplay: nipple and clit play. fucking machine. spitting. orgasm permission + she comes :D

word count | 1,049

thinking about porn director!ari helping you, his favorite little star, take the machine for the first time 🥺 maybe you're fairly new to the line of work and you've only done tamer shoots so far. this is your first taste of intenser porn elements; you're just trying it out with ari before going through a proper shoot with cameras and everything because you're not sure how you'll take it or if you'll like it

ari is super protective of you and wants to make sure you're safe throughout the entire process. he insists it's just you and him because he doesn't want any outside pressure or elements potentially making it hard for you to advocate for yourself or ask to stop if you need to. you trust him so much, he's been so wonderful to you and you feel so much safer knowing it'll be just you and him in the studio 💕

he gets everything ready before you arrive, arranging a comfy leather chaise for you to lay on and setting up the machine/testing out to make sure it works. he gets lube, a few different toys in case you'll want them, and clean up/aftercare stuff all set out as well. he told you to wear whatever you want, whatever's comfy. when you arrive in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he thinks you look so adorable and perfect just the way you are 🥺

he sits with you for a little while beforehand, talking you through everything that'll happen so you understand the machine and there'll be no surprises. he makes you feel so safe and supported, reminding you several times that you can stop at any time, making sure you remember the safe word, etc. he's smiling so big at you when you nod to let him know you're reading, "i'm so proud of you, sweetheart. i promise we'll make it feel good. and if you need anything, you just let me know. that's my job, i'm here to make things easy and comfortable for you"

he has the machine close enough so he can sit on the edge of the chaise there with you and adjust it as necessary. when you're ready, he lets you undress and lay back. he just has such a way of making you feel so secure around him, he's smiling so sweetly at you as he takes some time to rub your thighs, easing your legs open as you relax for him. he takes plenty of time loving on you the ways he knows you love best, gently playing with your nipples before moving down to rub your clit a little bit

"there we go. just relax for me, angel," he's coaxing you as you grow warm and wet beneath his fingers. "gotta get you nice and ready, princess. that feel good, right there? you can tell me what you need, honey. i'll take care of you." once you're adequately warmed up, he pulls away and preps the silicon attachment with lube anyway, just to prevent any friction or discomfort. "you ready, sweetheart? just remember your word, okay? the moment you say, we stop." your enthusiastic nod and gentle smile convince him you're ready

"okay baby, here we go. gonna ease it in," he explains as he gently extends the rod up to press the tip of the dildo against your leaky hole. "bit of a stretch here, deep breaths," he talks you through it as the rubber object is slowly but steadily worked up into you. "good girl, almost there," he hums as he reaches a good stopping point, making sure the thrusts won't push in too far or hit your cervix painfully

rubbing your inner thigh soothingly, asking, "you ready for me to turn it on, princess? we'll start slow, but it'll be intense. you just let me know if you need something on your clit- sometimes that helps with the pressure"

he starts you out on the lowest setting, watching carefully to see how you react. your immediate soft moans and melting into the couch are good signs hehe 🫶 his face is beaming with pride as you lie back and let the machine fuck you, watching as your eyes roll back slightly and your legs tremble as they fall to either side

"g-god," you're groaning as you're pounding steadily, "you should've l-let me do this sooner"

he's chuckling as your words are distorted by the rhythm of the machine. "i needed to make sure you were ready, pretty girl. and look at you, you're taking it so well," he knows it drives you crazy when he talks to you like that, and it's working alright!!

"m-more," you're soon begging, "faster, p-please!"

he can't help but laugh lightheartedly a bit more at your enthusiasm and impatience, nodding as he bumps you up a bit in speed. you let out the sweetest, happiest sighs as the repeated pounding rocks the entire couch. wanting to make the experience as good as possible for you, he goes back to cupping your tit with one hand, patting lovingly over your swollen clit with the other. his added stimulation makes your body jerk and writhe weakly, broadening his proud smile

"go ahead, baby. take what you need. you want it faster?" he asks as he twists and tugs at your hardened nipple. your pleading nod prompts him to boost you up another few notches, the machine growing a bit noisier as you're now fucked a bit more forcefully. wiggling yourself down a bit, you dare to let the tip of the rubber cock hit up perfectly against your weak spot. the build-up to your orgasm seems to happen over the span of mere seconds, but ari sees it happening

"p-please, i'm gonna-" you're panting weakly as you teeter towards the edge. he knows you so well, he can somehow tell exactly what you need to get you there. he brings his hand up, spitting on his fingers before slapping them down over your clit, rubbing in furious circles

"go ahead, baby. you've been so good. you can go ahead and come," his permission is all it takes- you come right then and there on that massive rubber dick as it pounds you into oblivion, ari's skilled fingers carrying through the wonderful high 💕

[foone]

"you can't kill the god of sex!"

She finished rubbing the sword with the cloth, and pulled tip near her face to examine the point. "pretty sure I can, actually. This ain't my first time drawing metal 'gainst a deity, you know?"

"No, I mean you shouldn't! People enjoy sex. And people need sex! How are we going to get the next generation if there's no more sex?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not killing the god of fertility. There'll still be pregnancies and births, just won't be the result of sex. 'sides, you know how gods work. Give 'em a decade or two and they'll deify a new god of sex."

She resheaths the sword on her back, now clean and sharp (the sword, not her back. Her back is far from either), and heads towards the door.

"wait, before you go, just explain why you want to do this!"

She stops at the doorway, shrugs. "It's a job. Been paid already." "by who?"

She smiles. "Buncha a-sexuals. Said they were tired of it and wanted to be free of sex. Told 'em it'd only work for a while, but they said they'd just hire me again. Told 'em I'd be happy to do it if I'm still breathin' when that happens."

"And you're just okay with killing sex?" "Not much of a fan of gods, to be honest. And they are paying me very well. I'll find something else to do with my downtime and coppers for a decade or two". She pulls a dagger out and scrapes some dried blood from under a rough fingernail. "Heh. Barmaid down at the pub will be sad I won't be dropping by to get some post-job relaxation... But I'll find something else to do. I hear cards are fun. Always meant to learn how to play 'em, never had the time."

"Anyway", she says loudly, shoving her knife back in a belt, "I've got to get going. It'll be a day or two before I can get down to the Godrealm. I spect you might want to go find your girl or boy or lizardman, whatever. Could be the last chance you get for a little 'together time' for a while. Seeya round!"

She trudges out into the darkness of the night, leaving the door open.

[the-bloody-sadist]

in case no one else has asked, please list your top 10 BL manga/manwha? 👀

i am. very interested in what other media you enjoy, especially BL

Combining these two bc I didn't wanna leave the second out!

(I wasn't a big fan of Blood Bank personally but I'm so glad it helped you with your world building Lil Whale!!)

I'm hoping some of these are unheard of for you guys because THERE ARE SO MANY BL/YAOI AND I READ THEM CONSTANTLY BUT NOT SO MANY ARE FANTASTIC AND MIND-BLOWING AND SPECTACULAR AND DEEPLY PSYCHOLOGICAL! I'm pretty sure I'll end up listing WAY more than 10, mainly because I want to highlight ones I feel like a lot of people haven't read. ALSO because I read so fucking many of them that I've collected a stash and NOW IS MY CHANCE TO YELL ABOUT THEM.

Just a disclaimer, these are not in any sort of order, as they're all about the same level in my head, just grouped. I'll list the "big name" BLs that I adore after these! First up are the ones that either have a quiet fandom or aren't well known! Since there'll be so many, I'm not going to say much about them, just know that usually no BL/Yaoi is perfect to me, since there are many bad psychology tropes here and there or unnecessary cruelties that aren't exactly realistic etc., but overall, I like the way that the story and characters are handled and/or love the art.

Here's the top five of my top ten that's not a top ten bc there are so many (I just said I wouldn't group them but I lied my ass off apparently):

Jealousy [Scarlet Beriko]: This is one of those that emotionally hits so hard that it will stick with me forever and I will usually tear up just a tiny bit when I think back to the moments that made this one so beautiful. A lot of times a story with major hurt, angst, and tragedy won't wrap up with enough to make me scream and cheer at the end. But THIS ONE DID. And I stopped reading for a while when a big event happened because I thought it would end horribly and I'd have to suffer three weeks of fiction-induced depression for a man who wasn't even real. BUT NAY. The themes you get in this one revolve around loneliness (huge draw for me, it always hits), mafia-connected characters and the rivalries from that, self-destructive prostitution, and characters who have difficulty receiving love without freaking out. Are those even themes idk. OH WELL. YOU GET THE POINT. I want this one on my shelf. You might've heard of it, but the fandom is silent so I never did. T_T OH ALSO THE ART ON THIS ONE IS GORGEOUS I FUCKING LOVE IT.

Hitori to Hitori no 3650nichi [Hitomi]: First of all, favorite manga artist. FAVORITE MANGA ARTIST. I'm never exactly sure if the artist is also the writer or if the writer is never the artist or...BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. Anyway! I listed this particular title because it was the first that I found by this person - but then I discovered it was a part of a bigger series, and there are like I DON'T KNOW FIVE DIFFERENT MANGA?? OR SOMETHING??? Related to this one. I don't know which order, I just know that I read them all in a frenzy. THE CHARACTERS. OH! OH THE CHARACTERS! Oh my gods, it's so good. LMFAO. The arcs these characters have are fantastic, and I loved the fact that the abuser in one is shown to be the victim of abuse in a prequel story, and that his anger issues and other elements of his personality came about to affect him and destroy him. Just...I don't recall the details, READ IT. That's all. Spectacular depictions of nuanced trauma within abusive relationships.

The Beast Must Die [Lee Hyeon Sook]: This remains one of my favorite depictions IN ANY MEDIA of a psychopath, because it's SO accurate and I'm SO fucking proud of the author for doing their research and OH MY GODS YOU GUYS IT'S ABOUT TO GET A DRAMA CD LET'S FUCKING GO! This story is so good. It's so evil. It's so psycho-thriller. It's so WELL DONE. It features a dark academia-ish secret society within a college setting who hunt people for sport, sometimes. LIKE. Come on. And the psychopath (dark hair) IS THE MAIN LOVE INTEREST! You could literally hear the summary and go "oh this is for Sadist". And I don't get a lot of those that deliver this well. SOMETIMES the art makes me twist my head a little but YOU KNOW WHAT I DO NOT CARE OKAY? It's just SO good. There's murder, there's kidnapping, and - most importantly - a main character who doesn't just DEAL with whatever the psychopath does. He's smart, he fights back, he learns to understand psychopathy to determine if he should remain with the love interest...it's fantastic. That's all. I will stop. *BANGS THE WALL*

Aporia [Seontae]: ALL HAIL THE HEALTHY BDSM RELATIONSHIPS THAT STILL HOLD TENSION AND EMOTIONAL WEIGHT AND SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!! This is my favorite BDSM-themed story. Everything is consensual, but is everything safe??? Not when it comes to the main character's emotions and tendency to sacrifice his wellbeing for a partner. BUT NOT TO WORRY, HIS SADISTIC LOVE INTEREST IS CONSIDERATE AND ATTENTIVE AND CARES ABOUT HIS FEELINGS!! This is, perhaps, one of my favorite depictions of a REAL sadist. A real one as in a realistic, irl BDSM-relationship sadist. Someone who is just as worried about taking care of his partner as he is about hurting him JUUUUST right. ANYWAY! THAT'S ALL! READ IT! HE'S LITERALLY ME!

Royal Servant [MasterGin, Chungnyun]: Okay, we were talking about healthy BDSM in the previous one, now let's talk about TOXIC BDSM-THEMES THAT I LOVE. Lmao. DO YOU LIKE MASTER/SLAVE DYNAMICS? DO YOU LIKE STORIES WHERE THE ARC LEADS TO THE ABUSIVE MASTER EVENTUALLY LEARNING TO NOT BE ABUSIVE AND LOVE THE SLAVE? YEAH ME TOO. I DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE THIS ANY FURTHER. AUTHOR OF ANGEL BUDDY, THIS IS THE ONE THAT I KNEW HER FOR FIRST.

A bunch of other good ones you may or may not have heard of (I won't describe every one of these unless I have something particular to say, so enjoy the pictures from them that I snatched):

Love me in the Wilderness [Wang Tao]

Neon Sign Amber [Ogeretsu Tanaka]

Zetsubou ni Nake [Shinou Ryo]: Guys. This story is UNIQUE AS HELL. I had to say something about it. The premise is that a man who was raped turns around and goes back after his rapist and rapes him back, and then they fall in love. IT'S....the amount of times my jaw dropped was insane on this one. SOMEHOW IT'S WRITTEN SO WELL. SOMEHOW THEY NAILED THE STRANGE REALISM OF IT AND HAD ME TEARING UP OVER THE INTENSITY OF THE RAPE SCENES. VERY WELL-PACED, VERY TRAUMATIC IN A GOOD WAY. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. The way they come to love each other after this crazy foundation of mutual rape is IMPRESSIVE. Kudos to the writer.

Love or Hate [Yeongha]: This is a very well-known one but there's like zero fandom so I think it fits here. Also a lot of hate going around for it? Which I never understood, fuck those guys. This remains one of the most beautifully-written that I've ever read, and I mean that purely in like...the ACTUAL writing on the page. I'm talking poetry, purple prose. I just recall being blown away by that, and no manga before or since has ever reached its level. For once I felt like the writer was also a novelist because of the way that they put things, and had a clear voice in the style. Did the main boy end up with someone I didn't want him to end up with at the end? Yes. But I felt like it fit pretty well, and it was sort of a tragedy, and it was supposed to hit you painfully in the gut. A lot of people were mad at the main character for that and I don't really think it's fair. In any case! A beautiful story with complex characters and intriguing dilemmas. Highly recommend it.

Shangri La no Tori (Birds of Shangri La) [Ranmaru Zariya]

Two in Six Billion [Denzou]

The Pizza Delivery Man and The Gold Palace [Upi]: Great story and character-building so far! I will say that once it became porn, it dove a little too heavily into it for me. Like I only needed one scene of the porn, I was enjoying the panic attack scenes much more. BUT YEAH, IT'S ONGOING, SO WE'LL SEE WHERE IT GOES! But the panic attack scenes were the reason I read it and yes, I did tear up.

Sleeping Dead and Living Dead [Asada Nemui]: I RECENTLY FOUND THIS ONE AND ADOOOOOOREEE IT SO MUCH. I DO NOT CARE THAT IT'S AN OLD SCIENTIST AND HIS ZOMBIE PATIENT. NORMALLY THAT WOULD HOLD NO SWAY OVER ME, BUT OH GODS, THE ART IS SO PRETTY AND THE STORY IS SO GOOD. I LOVE THE LITTLE ZOMBIE MAN! I LOVE THE LITTLE ROMANCE THEY'VE GOT!

Private Lessons [ANCO, Mongya]: It's cuuuuute what can I saayyyyy it has BDSM and threesomes and I liked it. Very entertaining. Scratches the BDSM itch and the little SUB WAS SO CUTE. Anyway.

Kingyo no Ubugoe [Gontaku Nido]

From Points of Three [White Eared]: Threesome dynamics!!

Silent Lover [Qiang Tang, Bai Li Jun Xi]: I STOPPED THIS ONE AT A CERTAIN POINT BECAUSE IT DIPPED INTO WEIRD M-PREG AND STUFF I CANNOT READ. But BEFORE all that, I was deeply ingrained in this one. It has a main character who can't speak (a particular weakness of mine) and he's OH SO CUTE and he's given as a sex slave basically to the emperor (emperor? idk he's a kingly man, something like that), and the emperor is evil but learns to be soft and yet it takes a LONG TIME SO I WAS BAWLING HYSTERICALLY OVER SOME OF THE HEARTWRENCHINGLY PAINFUL SCENES IN THIS FOR THE POOR YUU-ER. A good read until it decided to go the omegaverse-by-magic-potions route. I didn't stay to figure out where it actually ended up.

Yoru wa Tomodachi [Ido Gihou]

Toumei na Ai no Utsuwa [Hitomi]

Re:Birth [Misuaki Asou]: The singular omegaverse story in existence that I actually liked. Hopefully that says a lot. Mostly because it's about the omegaverse elements NOT being present for the main character and him trying to fake it because he's lonely and afraid that his partner (an alpha *shakes off the disgusting label because who the fuck thought alpha was a cool word*) will leave him if he finds out he's just a regular guy (aka beta I guess? ABO is weird idc).

Sahara no Kuro Washi [Soutome Emu]: MASTER SLAVE MASTER SLAVE---

Haru ni Kaeru [Kunieda Saika]

Incorrigible [Bbong]

Well Done! [ANCO, Mongya]

Nemuri Otoko to Koi Otoko [Zariya Ranmaru]

Even If You Don't Love Me [Pando]: It dropped off SUPER hard (it's ongoing still) but damn was it good in the beginning. I am sick and tired of where it's at currently but the psychological manipulation and the horror of a certain twist in the storyline was CRUSHING to me. I only wish that it would have gone a better way after it happened, because it slowly destroyed itself and became like a lot of tropey rape stories. The asshole just keeps being an asshole and it's not really where the story seemed to want to go with that. But otherwise, it started off strong and I'll give it kudos for that.

Bigger titles I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of that I enjoy:

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai [Yoneda Kou]: Is it a little unrealistic that literally everyone in this story is gay apparently and wants to fuck one man apparently and/or rape him? Yes, absolutely. Does that matter once you're in the story and it's so good and all these unrealistic cruelties make a really strong bond between the main love interest and this self-destructive masochist who's probably not really a masochist but only interested in hurting himself because he doesn't know how else to handle his trauma from childhood? Ummmm yeah. Anyway! This one had a lot of inspiration and a lot of tears and a lot of obsession from me. I re-read it all the time, I watch the movie over and over, I listen to the audio drama and cry at my favorite scenes. Do I care in the end that it's a little unrealistic at times? No but I do laugh sometimes when I'm about to share it with a new person. Because BL is just like that generally and you've got to put up with a little of those tropes to find your favorite stories. THIS IS ONE OF THE TOP FAVORITES OF ALL TIME FOR ME BTW, IT'S ONLY SO LOW DOWN HERE BECAUSE PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE IN YAOI KNOWS ABOUT THIS ONE ALREADY, AND WE'RE ALL AWARE OF HOW GOOD IT IS.

ENNEAD [Mojito]: I will say that this is basically the best manga/comic/manhua...what's the Chinese word idk ANYTHING OF THIS MEDIA TYPE that I have ever read. It's not done, and people have been complaining that it's starting to fall into the common BL tropes but you know what I do NOT care. Mojito is a genius, Mojito is a master storyteller, Mojito is beautiful, Mojito is strong - I just love Mojito and this work. So much. The action, the horror of rape, the deep-set character conflicts and dilemmas and internal turmoils. Everything, nailed it. Nailed it. And not to mention it's set in FUCKING EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY AND THEY'RE ALL GODS AND THEY HAVE SUCH COOL BATTLES AND COSTUMES AND DUDE???? I'm so hooked. That's all.

Killing Stalking [Koogi]: OBVIOUSLY. I don't really need to say anything about this one except that yeah, some of the psychology is a little off and some of it is just super shallow. But I loved the characters and that's what mattered in the end. I fell in love with Sangwoo too and it ripped my heart out when I read the ending. I was depressed for like two weeks and it was the first story that had ever affected me that way, but I was also younger and this was one of my first yaoi/BLs and yeah. GREAT story though, fantastic storytelling, very lovable characters. Sangwoo was handled so much better than most "asshole/kidnapper/rapist" characters and I will never stop appreciating that, because a lot of writers tend to forget that your villains have to have redeeming qualities if you want us to like them (????). Jinx, I'm fucking coming for you. Suck my dick. KOOGI FTW.

Missing Love/A Married Man [In Hyerin]: Some of the DESCRIPTIONS of how trauma works especially of the sexual nature in this story are SO. SO. GOOD. However, I am beginning to grow VERY ANNOYED at where it decided to go with the most current updates of the story. The author did enough trauma to the main boy, now it's getting so incredibly excessive that it's overdoing it and the author's kinks are showing through. LIKE I GET IT. Okay? I do. But this one became too much and I need him to return to the actual story arc of going through that trauma so he can HEAL with the right person taking care of him.

MadK [Ryo Sumiyoshi]: I am into NONE of the kinks that would lead to me picking up this manga. I hate demons, I'm not a monsterfucker, I can't do extreme guro, and yet I SAW CANNIBALISM. THAT WAS THE ONE THING THAT I THOUGHT I'D GIVE IT A TRY FOR. And then accidentally I got obsessed because the plot is AMAZING and the writing is SO GOOD and who cares if I hate demons and monsters ALL OF THEM ARE BADASS AND HOT (??) AND IT CEASES TO MATTER. Good on the writer for making them appeal by personality alone and expressions and whatever else you signed a deal with the devil to make me like because it worked. Also the guro is beautiful, so it doesn't even matter. Hannibal levels.

Warehouse [Killerwhale]

Painter of the Night [Byeonduck]

Viewfinder/Finder [Yamane Ayano]

Given [Kizu Natsuki, Gusari]

Nii-Chan [Harada] (and basically every other work by Harada)

Sadistic Beauty Side Story [Geumsan Lee, Woo Yeonhui]

Dine With a Vampire [Pangin, Pinko]

Angel Buddy [Mastergin, Chungnyun]

My Partner's Tastes and Fetishes [Deok Hwa]

Interview with a Murderer [KJK]

On or Off [A1]

Steel Under Silk [Snob]

The Pawn's Revenge [Evy]: It was going to be SO GOOD! And then it dropped off harder than a boulder from a balcony and I have absolutely no idea why the author took it the way that they took it, but go off I guess. It's boring as hell now but it started off with promise and I enjoyed the art and character designs. Too bad, I suppose.

Caste Heaven [Ogawa Chise]: An old classic with all the sticky sometimes icky mostly ridiculous BL tropes but hey, it's cute. It's sexy. It's fun. I don't care.

Wet Sand [Doyak]: We're still in the beginning stage of this one but I'm excited to see where it goes! Plus the art SLAPS ASS like nobody's business.

19 Days [Old Xian]: I hate comedy, I hate fluff, I hate buddies that never become lovers, but none of that mattered when I picked this one up. The duality of man. Bite-sized chapters and ACTUALLY AN EVENTUAL ROMANCE that none of us thought we'd ever get.

Legs That Won't Walk [Black Apricot]: Although this one dropped off hard for me and I'm really just following it to see if it picks up again and does something interesting (it probably won't) I did enjoy it in the beginning. I just get tired of the "asshole just keeps being an asshole and nothing else but woobified slut keeps coming back to him??" without the strong and realistic undercurrent of Reasons Why Someone Would Come Back such as manipulation or threats or unhealthy attachment. Perhaps it was sorta there in the beginning with them but now I'm just like why are we still continuing this story.

Pearl Boy [Inking, Zoy]: *Awkwardly scratches neck* It's not the best okay? It's not. It's really not. I don't like half of the things that occur in this one, but the ART, bro. THE ART, BRO? That's what got me into it and what kept me into it, PLUS I do like little Jooha. I stayed for Jooha, too. Dooshik drives me a little batty most of the time and looks ugly for half the story to me, but when he's badass, he's pretty badass, so I can forgive him. I really don't know why he has such drastically changing appearances because I thought he was someone completely different for a bit LMAO. In any case, I have to admit I like the uhhhhh danger that Jooha gets himself into and the crazy things that make no sense but you know what he gets hurt and then there's comfort and rescue and they cry and I cease to care that it makes no sense. (Sorta, I don't actually cease to care I just laugh awkwardly and go okay sure that's how it works because it's so hard to find stories that don't do this LOL I'm beating a dead horse) BUT WHY DOES HE CUM PEARLS? WILL WE EVER KNOW? WHO THE HELL THOUGHT OF THAT AND WITHOUT A SUPPORTING MAGIC SYSTEM IN THE WORLD TO MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE? IT WENT DOWNHILL SO FAST AND THE ENDING IS TERRIBLE BTW. THE VILLAIN SUCKS.

That's it. I can't talk to much or I'll run out of words but HOPE YOU GUYS FIND SOME NEW READS!!

[niphredil-14]

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

[jovial-thunder]

Lancer Tactics devlog

I'm gonna try out posting my ~monthly devlog roundup here as well. These suckers are glorified changelogs with anecdotes and gifs galore. Let me know if this is something you like seeing show up on your dash?

Map Editor

Got units able to be placed/deleted/moved in the mission editor

Can paint/remove command zones in the editor

Can paint minecraft-like terrain blocks in the editor

Can paint/rotate multi-tile props in the editor

Can edit unit character sheets and portrait via the editor

3D maps

Did a bunch of art tests with 3D mech models, provided by GeneralChaos, which we ended up deciding not to go with to keep things simple.

To avoid the can of worms that is animation, we'd have to lean into a static "tabletop minatures" aesthetic which we decided is not a style we want to be stuck with. By sticking with 2D sprites, we avoid falling into a sort of uncanny valley; it's easier to get away with not animating a 2D sprite than it is for a 3D model.

 We also experimented with 3D terrain. We decided to make a rule that the visual style for a piece of terrain should match its mechanical effect: obstructing terrain that you can't move through, such as rocks or buildings, will be in 3D, while non-obstructing terrain like trees will stick with 2D sprites.

Hooking up the 3D camera to follow events like movement and attacks did a LOT for making it starting to feel like it's cohering into an Actual Game™

Implemented cover! And an attack preview! Cover works by aiming a ray from the target to the originator (technically to and from each voxel of each, respectively, to handle size 2s shooting above size 1 cover) and tracking all the terrain blocks it hits (how we'll handle non-terrain hard cover TBD). I think I have it working according to Perijove's cover rules manual, but I'm sure there'll be edge cases to work out. This is a case where things are significantly simplified by working in squares instead of hexes; hexes have a lot more possible weird angles you have to deal with.

Re-added what I'm stubbornly calling Combat Popcorn; little bits of text that pop out when you use abilities and attacks.

UI & game screens

Added ability for the engine to show UI that's anchored to the game world via a little word bubble line but also stay on screen as the camera moves around.

Got word bubbles working; you can now write dialogue in the mission editor, hit playtest, and see it work in a mission! (it does actually translate correctly now; this gif is just from a bug I thought was funny)

Got ability effects mostly behaving appropriately again, including muzzle flashes. The easiest way to handle them ended up being NOT billboarding them so they always face the camera (like all other 2D sprites in the game); instead, I put them on a plane parallel with the ground and just spin them around the unit to point at wherever their target is.

Did some work ironing out our tooltip system. The standard in CRPGs these days is this kind of nested labyrinth of tooltops that you see in Baldur's Gate 3:

I Did Not Want to try and figure out how to wrangle that much UI, so we're instead opting to cap the nested tooltips at the second layer. You can lock a general tooltip for e.g. an action and then mouseover various items within that tooltip to get glossary definitions...

...and then instead of having those glossary tips be lockable/mouse-overable themselves, I collect all related terms to that glossary definition and let you tab through them.

Added skin overlay functionality to the portrait maker, enabling textures like scars, tattoos, stubble, and vitiligo to be applied to just the skin and not extend off into space.

Midway through writing this update, Carpenter sent me this gif of the randomization button working! There's a still a bunch of skintones/assets missing and a few are a bit janky, but it was exciting to start seeing the range of these lil freaks (affectionate) that this editor can create.

Mourning cloak license!

This is the one I'm probably most excited about: I did a bit of a content dive and implemented a basic character sheet + all Mourning Cloak traits and equipment. They don't have fancy graphics yet, but the weapons and systems can be added via the character sheet and used in-game.

It took a little under a day, including adding soon-to-be common mechanisms like bonus damage. This is great news in that it means the engine we've been building for so long in the abstract seems to do a great job in handling comprehensive actual game content, and that it looks like we've set ourselves up for success when it comes time to buckle down on churning that out.

I'm sure other licenses will come with unique difficulties (I fear the day it comes time to do the Mule Harness // Goblin CP) but I'm feeling good about it!

Vertical slice?

Taking a step back, the pressing question on my mind has been "when will we have a playable early access build?"

I was originally hoping for Feb/March, but what we've internally been referring to as the "3D cataclysm" has pushed everything back by at least three months, so the target for the first alpha build is now in May. So, ah, thanks for your patience! Seeing things come together, I've become more and more convinced that moving to 3D was the right call.

[bomberqueen17]

don't know where else to put it

I was going to do a big wrap-up of Everything I Learned From The Must Farm Site Report PDFs but then life got super busy. So I only have the things I turned over and over in my mind, just now, and I want to go back and reread but now's not the time, I'll have to do another pass through at a later date.

But the one tiny vivid little factoid I've got in my mind that I just have to write down-- that necklace, with the big amber bead? Some of the glass beads were shattered from the heat but the amber bead was only charred a little on one side. So obviously some of the necklace was closer to the fire than the rest. I had initially connected that it was found near where there was probably a door, and I vaguely imagined someone dropping it as they fled. But now I'm convinced that's not it at all.

It was hanging up. It was hanging on a peg or a hook or a twig or something, right near the door, maybe even on display, and the big heavy amber bead was hanging at the bottom, and the glass beads were hanging at the top, and the fire at that point spread down from the roof and it burned through the string, and the glass beads shattered and the necklace fell down and when the floor collapsed it wound up in the mud.

The other thing I keep thinking is that the fire has to have started while no one was home. And modern people don't think about this, but in a premodern society where you've got a group of people living in a house, where you don't have appliances you can turn on and off, where starting a fire takes serious effort and getting it to a state where you can cook on it takes hours, where the food served at daily meals has to be the full-time job of several people because it's so labor-intensive--

there's never going to be a time where everyone is out of the village. There's going to be a sickly or elderly person who can't really get out of bed or move far, or a new mother who's just given birth and can't travel, and there'll be someone home to tend to whoever that is, and while they're home they're tending the fire and getting dinner started. There's just always someone there. I could see maybe one house being unoccupied for a brief time, but a village, that probably had at least ten houses if not more, and each house had ten people in it? Someone would be home. And those who weren't home wouldn't be far. We know the wheat etc. that the village was eating was grown on dry land, and the flax they were processing into fiber, but it could not have been far away. And the Fenlands are flat. You'd see smoke. Before the first house was even engulfed someone would have noticed the smoke and they'd be hurrying home.

But nobody tried to fight the fire. Nobody spread it, but nobody fought it either. Nobody pulled any timbers out to save them. Nobody threw water on anything.

Nobody was there. The houses were empty. Nobody fled the fire, because they weren't there to see it start, or they would have been able to stop it.

They hadn't been evacuated in any organized way, or surely the bead necklace would have been taken. Even if they were in a hurry, at least the pot full of cooked food would have been taken, or emptied into something more portable to bring along! There was so much prepared food lying around. And the thread bobbins-- bobbins and bobbins of painstakingly-spliced flax they'd grown and rippled and scutched, some of it then painstakingly plied, hours and hours of several people's labor, and it was on little bobbins, you could sweep that into a basket along with your bulkier household goods and barely take up any space at all and save hundreds, maybe thousands of hours of labor later when you needed to weave some new fabric. Thread like that was precious, and it's portable, and I can't believe they'd choose to leave so much of it behind if they had any chance to choose what they brought with them.

As I'd said, it's beyond possibility that everyone had gone out to do some job-- there would be people left behind in the houses for that. Maybe everyone had gone out for some religious observation, maybe. Maybe something was important enough to even haul out the oldsters and the infants, and to put off dinner until late. Maybe. it's possible. But someone (probably in Structure 1) just didn't bank the fire correctly, and it got away and got into the roof beams. A properly-banked fire wouldn't do that, and surely these people, managing cooking fires for their entire lives, would know how to do it. But even then I can't imagine them going that far, and again, they'd see the smoke and hurry home. Even if it was a religious rite they'd still hurry home from it, there's no way they wouldn't have come back.

So it seems to me that they had to have been forced out. No notice, no chance to pack, everything left where it was, last night's supper still in the pot, tonight's bread still rising on the trays, the lambs in their pens and the dog tied up in House 5.

I can't imagine what forced them out. It wouldn't be weather. It could be enemies. There were no weapons found in the houses, but that might mean they'd taken them with them-- except the spears, perhaps they were only hunting spears but you'd think still if everyone ran out to fight they would take them too, the spears and the axes; if it was a situation where they had to last-ditch defend themselves the non-warriors would certainly arm themselves with the wood axes and the hunting spears. But they didn't.

So my conclusion is that they all were forced to leave in a hurry, without banking the fires, without putting anything away, and they were prevented from returning. The cause could be human enemies-- perhaps the warriors of the settlement had gone out to fight and been defeated, and the victors came here and the survivors knew they could not fight and so came out unresisting to meet their fates.

The cause could be something religious or spiritual-- something they believed in made them leave and prevented them from returning. It would have to be incredibly compelling, however, because leaving without their food or their cooking pots or their domestic goods (the little bobbins of thread!!!!! you could easily carry those!!) would make it very hard for them to make their way in the world.

The cause could be-- I really don't know what else. Disease would maybe make them abandon a settlement, maybe leave no trace if they buried their dead on land, but they would pack first. Most things, they would pack first, they wouldn't leave cooked food sitting out, they'd bring the lambs and dog with them. Any orderly evacuation, they'd have brought the lambs and dog with them. They have to have left in a hurry without a chance to prepare. And there was no attempt at salvage afterward, they didn't come back to look for anything they'd left. The ruins of the burned buildings would have stood visible for decades, the ends of roof timbers above the water, much of structure 4 (possibly the gate house entrance) above the water, the palisade probably unburnt for much of its length. It would have been easy to find. There are only a couple of disarranged timbers in Structure 3 to suggest anyone ever poked through the wreckage at all, and that's not much to go on. Certainly nobody dug around in the mud, which would have been quite shallow at some times of year.

And while it's possible the evidence of what happened existed once, somewhere in the long-vanished sections of the village-- perhaps the fire started at that end, perhaps they tried to fight it there, perhaps they tried salvage over there and discovered the fire had burned too hot to make it worthwhile, perhaps the bodies of the villagers were all dumped into the channel over there after whatever battle there was-- perhaps there was all kinds of stuff. But I just think whatever it was left no trace. So many of the possibilities would now be invisible, three thousand years later.

All we have is the facts: They left in a hurry, leaving their lambs in their pens, their food on the table, the dog tied up in the house, the cooking fires not banked.

And whatever made them leave, they never came back.

[circe69]

this goes out to all my migraine babies out there

"I take it you didn't use the medicine when you were supposed to," Soap said as you stumbled into the kitchen, crooked sunglasses sitting on your nose and a large water bottle placed in your sweaty hands.

You were in too much pain to even talk, but there was always room for sarcasm. "What gave it away?" You taunted back, restlessly pulling a chair out from under one of the tables and cringing as the metal screeched across the floor, hurting your already sore eardrums even more.

"You've got to take it at some point, that stuff was bloody expensive."

Price was in the middle of a sports section in his week-old newspaper when he decided it was a good time to rile you up even more. He didn't even have to look up to know that your eyebrows were furrowing so hard they were bound to fall off.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of your ice-cold water before speaking, "Yeah well, I just don't like shots. And that needle is huge, mind you. I'll be fine, I'm sure there'll be a worse one in the future." Price and Soap continued to grunt, along with Gaz as he clicked his tongue at your comment and continued to scroll on his phone.

Ghost walked in a few minutes later and he noticed two things upon entry: your head being on the table, and the epi-pen looking drug sticking out from your bag. He was stealthy without trying, and even though everyone else noticed when he arrived, you didn't.

He knew exactly what was happening, and he was tired of all your excuses, so Ghost did what he did best.

A sneak attack.

He signaled to the rest of the guys what he was about to do and didn't start until he received nods of confirmation. Everyone was on the same page. A few more steps, and Ghost was right behind the chair you were sitting in, sleeping in. He grabbed the injection as Price and Gaz slowly stood up and started walking towards you. Soap took the long way after taking a huge gulp of coffee and making his way to the corner behind Ghost, in case you tried to run.

With the medicine in hand, Ghost got down on his knees to the side of you, so he was on your level. One of his hands moved carefully to rest on the small of your back, and the other on your thigh. As you started to stir awake from the contact, that's when he made his main move.

"Now!" Soap shouted from behind the two of you, and Ghost abruptly grabbed your hips and pulled you on top of his lap to where he was sitting on the marble floor. You finally woke up as you fell on top of him. "Wait, wait wait wait no-" You tried to counter, but it was no use. With one hand, Ghost grabbed both of yours and pulled them behind your back so you couldn't fight back. At the same time, he snapped his fingers and signaled to Gaz to pull up your shorts leg and hold your thigh.

It seemed like only a few seconds to them, but years for you. You tried to not make noises, afraid that Ghost and the others would end up teasing you for the rest of your life. Once he uncapped the pen, he tightened his grip on both of your hands and injected the medicine right in the middle of where Gaz was holding your skin, a perfect bullseye.

A few tears ended up slipping out down your cheeks, just a few, and they dried up for the most part after you felt Ghost's hand squeeze your thigh, "Good girl, you got it," he whispered as he stood up, helping you as well.

His hand rested on your back as he guided you to a chair and placed a band aid on your fresh puncture. "All better."

[batwritings]

Hi Bat! Merry Christmas, if you celebrate! I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you do group headcanons; can I get Keegan, Ghost, Gaz, Konig, Horangi, and Soap (if that’s too many, I completely understand! you can just pick a few.) on a mission alone with their lover, maybe infiltrating a facility of some sort, when their darling simply just pulls them aside declares they want to give them a quick handjob/blowjob, out of neediness. Maybe the reader’s just a little too into the thrill of them possibly getting caught, or maybe they just can’t wait until they get back. Thanks!!

-Hybrid

Okay but like...I'm fairly certain I would be said reader. >.> Not that I like thrills, I just have ZERO shame. /hj Also, Merry Christmas for those who celebrate, as well as a blessed Yule and a Happy Hanukkah and holidays! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keegan P. Russ Keegan normally took missions as a ghost VERY seriously. He knew communication was essential during these missions, especially when dealing with Rorke back on the loose. So when you pulled him into a nearby closet for a quick little thrill, he was quick to ask what the actual fuck you were doing. Unfortunately, Keegan is weak as hell for you, so the moment you get your hands on his member, his eyes roll back a bit. "Make it quick kid," he growls, switching the channel on his comms so the both of you aren't heard, even on accident. You're true to your word, making sure there's no evidence of your little stint. "Pull something like that again, and you'll regret it once we're home."

Simon "Ghost" Riley Simon Riley is a no nonsense man, even more so on missions. But even you could see how his anger was affecting him and the decisions he was making. As an intervention, you pulled him aside while the team was switching positions. "You need a quick destress," you tell him, getting on your knees and pulling his member out before he can protest. Any argument Simon tries to make is muted the moment you get his cock in your mouth. He's finished as quick as it started as you help him straighten his appearance. "Not a word of this later." He threatens, despite his soft brown eyes telling you that he was thankful.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Gaz, albeit serious about his work, is much more impulsive than the rest of the task force. Which means he's a bit more amenable to following you when you pull him aside for a moment. He's genuinely confused until you get on your knees, which he gives you a smirk in response to. "Cheeky thing aren't you?" He groans when you get your hands and mouth on his cock. He's so tempted to ask you to leave the cum splattered on your lips and cheek but Gaz knows better. "Next time we should take care of that before we go yeah?"

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin Horangi has become a lot more at ease with himself over the years, and in that knowledge comes learning when to give into urges. He's never been one to let his relations with you interfere with missions for KorTac, but even a man as strong as him had a weak spot. He'll contemplate if the quickie is worth it before inevitably following you off. "씨발," Horangi would curse, trying his best to cover his noises. He felt lowkey bad for slightly abandoning the mission in exchange for pleasure, but the smile on your face made it worth it. "There'll be more where that came from if you can be good and patient."

König The normally reserved König you knew in closed quarters was gone on missions. As a colonel, he had a bit of a reputation to uphold. And yet...here he was, getting pulled to the side by you for a quick blowjob. "Scheiße, quickly now schatz," he'd groan, head knocking against the metal wall behind him. You hit all the right spots, all the points that normally made him sob in pleasure, whining quietly as he comes across your face. "Good pet...now, let's rejoin the others. We'll talk about this later in my quarters."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Probably the riskieset of this group of people. Soap is the type of person who would do it while doing recon and still respond to comms calls. He wants to see how far the two of you could go without getting caught. "He's moving LT," The Scotsman would report to Ghost, immediately groaning when you lick over the head of his cock. Moments after he comes, he'd be on the move, helping you up as he messily puts himself away. "More later yeah?"

[woongisi]

Drum Line Dream // Song Mingi

dom!Song Mingi x sub!gn!Reader // SMUT

WC// 2.1k

Synopsis// Things went a bit off kilter with your college marching band crush. Turns out, all you needed to fix it in the end was some bad luck and deep fried food.

Warnings// semi-public, grinding/dry humping, pet names (baby)

Author's Note// Written in one sitting and definitely not proofread. Nothing too crazy this time but I HAD to get this very self indulgent idea out of my mind. This one's for you former and current band kids, I get you. ☺︎

---------

College marching band. One of your worst decisions, yet one of your best. There was no shortage of drama to be had but at least you'd met some of your closest friends.

You played the trombone, it was large and it was loud. Your type of instrument and coincidentally your type of man. Maybe you'd smacked a few too many people in the head with your slide or emptied your spit valve on the shoes of those you disliked. Regardless, you considered it revenge for how the wind instruments would sneak up on you and blow air into their reeds as hard as possible just behind your ear.

As far as instrumental squabbles went, you found the drum line to be the most tolerable. Sure, some of the snares made it a point to play as loudly as they could, but they kept it localized within their section. You had a hard time admitting it, but you may have held a bit of a bias toward them.

That bias was Song Mingi. Song Mingi played the bass drum. The kind that you had to pull over your head, two heavy straps bracing your shoulders on either side. The kind that burned through far too many expensive wool felt mallets. You never were sure how they beat them up so quickly.

You met Mingi your freshman year and got acquainted with him rather quickly, you never had much time to spend with him as your show for the year had you in separate areas for most of it. The same followed your sophomore. Now, you found yourself in your junior year.

Earlier in the year you'd ushered Mingi over and haphazardly told him he was hot, and that if he didn't kiss you, you might cry. There you shared a kiss high up in the bleachers, hiding behind the row of bass drums. Since that moment things had become a bit awkward, you apologized, claiming you'd been overly emotional and didn't want things to get in the way of your friendship. What you didn't know was the conflict that caused Mingi.

Song Mingi was one of your best decisions yet one of your worst, just as joining the band was. Something about him was addicting. Perhaps it was his deep voice, his tall and slender figure, his bright smile that lit up the room no matter where you were.

Away games were always your favorite. You may not be able to perform at halftime as often, but cheering on the football team was enough. Besides, there was something exciting about wandering the stands of school stadiums previously unknown to you. Some schools, like the one you were visiting this night, had fancier concession stands than others.

Halftime finally hit, you stayed in place for a few minutes to take a look at the opposing team's band and judge their uniforms before meandering your way to the least busy concession stand.

You greeted the student manning the stand with a smile and a nod, taking a moment to skim over the dodgy whiteboard that served as a menu. You settled on a thing of fried oreos, 3 pieces to a boat. You handed the worker some amount of cash and told her to keep the change. It was pointless to try and find somewhere to sit so you settled down a matter of feet away, leaning against the brick wall of the buildings.

Before you could even take your first bite, a familiar voice caught your attention. Mingi had approached the booth, somehow evading being noticed by you up until that point.

“Ah, I'm sorry. We just sold the last of the oreos for the moment.” The student sighed and briefly checked her watch. “There'll be more ready in about 10 minutes… but you seem to be part of the band.”

Mingi nodded with understanding. “I'll have to be back in the stands by then. I'll just take a coke. Thank you!”

Now was your chance.

“Psssst, Mingi!” You half yelled, half whispered and motioned eagerly for him to come toward you. Mingi was quick to approach, fumbling with his bottle of soda.

“Yeah? What's up?”

“That was me… sorry. You wanna share?” You held the boat of fried oreos out as an offering.

“No, no! You spent your money on those. You should have them.”

“I insist.” You stared down at his gloved hands for a moment. “Would you… like some help with that?”

You had removed your black wool gloves and bulky gauntlets before heading to find food. A foresight that Mingi apparently lacked. He nodded shyly, almost embarrassed, and thanked you.

“Here, open.” You grabbed one of the oreos, using your other hand to hover underneath it to guard against crumbs. You leaned inward, allowing Mingi to take the cookie into his mouth. “I've already got my gloves off, don't wanna make you mess with yours.”

Those lips. Forever your greatest weakness. All he'd done was take food from your hand and all you could do was try not to stare. The kiss you shared a year before lingered in the back of your mind. Soft. They were so very soft. Pillowy and normally faintly flavored by whatever chapstick he'd managed to dig out of his bookbag. You couldn't forget the feeling and even now you regretted how fleeting the moment was.

“Hey,” Mingi awkwardly shifted his weight to one side. “Can we talk for a minute?”

You felt like your heart fell to your ass, suddenly

worried about the conversation that was yet to come. Was he angry, upset, confused? You didn't know.

Mingi led you to a corner he'd spotted when the band arrived on the field. The bright lights didn't quite reach through to dispel the darkness and the area was sparsely populated compared to the concessions.

“U-uhm…” It was unusual, the way Mingi was so seemingly anxious. Your typical charismatic musician that so confidently backed the drum line had disappeared, replaced by someone far more vulnerable.

“Your face is seriously red. You sick? Need me to tell the director that you need time out?” You cocked your head to the side with concern.

Mingi shook his head frantically and grabbed one of your hands. Forcing himself to hold your eye contact, he finally continued. “Iwannakissyouagain-”

“What…?” Whatever he'd said was spoken too quickly for you to process.

“I… want… to kiss you again.”

That was when you learned it wasn't one sided, the memory haunted him just as well. Though you didn't expect simply sharing your snacks to lead to a confession, you certainly weren't about to complain.

You gripped Mingi’s hand back, urging him to follow you as you hurried to hide under the home team’s bleachers. Not a word exchanged in the meantime. This side of the stadium housed the press box, meaning there was more solidity to the structure and more places to hide beneath.

Pressing your back against the wall, you snaked your hand up to rest on the back of Mingi’s neck.

“I missed you, Song Mingi.”

Any hesitation that plagued his mind was erased in an instant. Mingi's lips collided haphazardly with yours, his hands holding your waist. This, you thought, is what you'd needed for a year's time. This kiss was unlike your first, already starting intense. Mingi had no problem taking charge, chasing your lips whenever you pulled away like a man starved.

“Mmn,” You tapped the nape of his neck. “Need to breathe.”

Mingi was undeterred, fumbling with the zipper on the back of your uniform jacket. You shrugged it off of your shoulders, leaving it to drape off of your elbows and grant Mingi access to your neck.

“Shiiiit,” You whined against him. You had never given the uniform jacket design any thought but presently you couldn't be more relieved that once you put it back on, the mock neck would cover any marks. “Needed this so bad.”

Mingi's ministrations were sloppy, hungry, sucking and nibbling lightly on your sensitive skin. A shiver shot its way up his spine, leading him to let out a quiet moan. That was a sound you decided you could get used to.

“Can't take it, wanna touch you.” Mingi growled, becoming painfully aware of his growing erection. “I'll make it quick. Promise.”

“Mmk, anything, I'm yours.”

You rushed to remove your jacket entirely, discarding it to the side. You'd just have to handle the dust that undoubtedly covered it from the gravel layer. Mingi's jacket was soon to follow.

Your mouth gaped slightly, taking in the shape of Mingi's waist. Bibbers were tight, form fitting but so often hidden beneath your black and red jackets. You never realized just how slim his waist was but, now, you'd never forget it.

“Damn things.” Mingi grumbled, undoing the velcro and pulling down the zipper to his marching pants before assisting you with yours. There was no bothering with removing them entirely. Black tees and black shorts that laid just above the kneecap were standard for underneath the band's uniforms.

Mingi grabbed you firmly and flipped you around so that you had to brace yourself against the brick wall chest first. His strong arms held you tight against him, one around your waist and the other reaching over your chest and keeping you steady.

In this position, you couldn't see Mingi… but you could surely feel him. His breath was ragged against your neck with his hips grinding against your ass.

“Mingi, holy shit-” You didn't need to look to understand the considerable length of his cock. Four layers worth of fabric was too much, but at the same time so perfect.

Mingi’s arm situated on your waist slid downward, a gloved slipping beneath your waist band and swiftly finding your arousal. The sensation of the woolen gloves against your bare skin was almost cruel, too good and complemented by the unexpected skill Mingi possessed with his hands.

Low moans tumbled from deep in Mingi’s throat, sending shockwaves straight to your core. You'd heard him whine and groan plenty of times whenever he screwed up a formation for the nth time and on hot summer days when you were finally allowed a water break and moment in the shade. It was different to hear his familiar sounds in this manner. Despite the similarities, something felt more primal now.

Mingi was losing his control by this point, grating his aching cock hard against your figure and mumbling incoherently.

“I'm gonna cum, baby.” He nuzzled his face into you, resting his chin on the area just next to the back of your neck.

“Me too, keep going, cum for me.” You sacrificed one of your arms to muzzle your desperate moans. To be caught was one of the last things you needed.

Mingi broke first, a deep and drawn out whine tearing from him. He continued to rub himself despairingly into you, riding out his own orgasm while trying to keep up with you.

It didn't take long for you to follow in his wake. The building coil of pleasure building in your stomach finally snapped, drenching Mingi’s hand in your fluids. Your moan caught in your throat leaving you to choke back a cry.

For a moment, everything was quiet but the buzz of the nearby breaker boxes and the sound of your heaving chests.

“Fuck, thank you. Thank you so much.” Mingi praised and guided you both to rest on the cold ground. He grabbed your hand with his clean one and smiled brightly as if he hadn't just rocked your world in the midst of a football game. “Can we never keep ourselves away like we have been again?”

“Of course. You have no clue how long I've been yearning for you.” You cleared your throat. “Well, I suppose you do now.

Only after kissing Mingi’s cheek did you scurry to gather the estranged components of your marching uniform. The game was back on, your bandmates wondering where in the world you could be.

“Mingi.” You whispered with realization, “Your glove.”

“Whatever,” He sighed. “Here's the story, ok?”

Mingi cobbled together some cover up. Some mostly coherent story about how you slipped and fell, dropping your drink leading to him accidentally putting his hand right in the puddle on the concrete. He only hoped they didn't question why your uniform was largely devoid of any liquid.

Reaching the away team's stands, one of the snares crumpled up a nearby napkin and flung it at Mingi’s face with expert aim.

“Dude, where the fuck have you two been?!”

If only he knew.

[bardinthezone]

Personally I hope that bi-generation functions as a hard reset for the series. I hope it leaves all the trauma with 14, I hope it's the end of an era, I hope this puts all the complex, weaving storylines behind us and lets us start anew.

Because I love the 2005-now era of Doctor Who (for the most part). It was most of my personality in middle school and had an immeasurable impact on who I am as a person. I'm rewatching it now, and it's still a blast so far. But god, it's getting really inaccessible.

It's 18 years of continuity to keep up with, 18 years of complicated storylines that all tie in to one another. Recently it's been really hard to tell people to get into Doctor Who, because there's no good starting point. Because you don't want to start them on Chibnal's writing. But you can't tell them to start with Capaldi, because they don't have the backstory for Clara. But then you can't really start with the introduction of Clara, because even if you start with The Snowmen you're missing the backstory for Oswin and the start of that arc. Plus you're starting in the middle of 11's run. So then you have to go back allll the way to the introduction of Amy and Rory. And even if you love Moffat's writing (which I don't), you're still telling people to watch 7+ seasons of a show. And if, like me, you want people to experience RTD's writing first, you're basically gonna have to have them start with series 1, which gives them 12-13 season to catch up on, with more on the way. And that's really overwhelming if you have other responsiblities to keep you busy.

But this offers a fresh start. This says, "Okay, we've had our trauma. We've had our Time Wars and our Rose Tylers and our Demon's Runs and our Clara Oswalds and our... Timeless Children--- now it's time for something completely different." And it's not pulling a "Crisis on Infinite Earths" and completely nuking the pre-existing canon; all the wonderful moments of the previous era are still very real! They just aren't driving the plot in the same way the past 13 seasons have gone.

If you love Doctor Who for the complex storylines, that's wonderful. I'm sure there are gonna be some new storylines and fun callbacks in the next season for you to latch onto. And there'll always be the 2005-2023 era to return to. Hell, I could be wrong, and RTD is gonna pick up right where Chibnal left off (God I hope not..). But personally? I'm getting burnt out. I want to see the Doctor get to be just a silly man flying around space, helping people and teaching them things. I want a reset.

[shiningliive]

Live Emotion Game Introduction 2 - Home

First Look at the home screen for Live Emotion!

As described on the official twitter account: This is the backstage area where you can access various functions of the app. You can interact with the idols, watch them relax, and have fun in a variety of ways. This way, you can spend time with your favourite idols.

Analysis/translation of the user interface below:

Move between left and right sides of the backstage area/homescreen. Can change to a forwards/backwards arrow depending on where you are in the room (?).

Likely a fullscreen/view mode, that removes the UI temporarily.

Unsure. Something to do with altering the UI for the room like the other 3 buttons in this area. Possibly to do with moving the characters or yourself around the screen. Potentially some other kind of customisation, although that seems to be the function of #20.

Likely a toggle for the text box (#14). It is greyed out temporarily, possibly when moving between left and right sides.

User rank and level up bar.

LP (likely still 'live points'). Used up to play songs in the rhythm game, and replenished by waiting in real time.

Likely a shortcut to refill LP with in game resources.

Likely the Live Emotion equivalent to 'Prisms' in Shining Live. Used for the gacha and other in game functions.

Home? Unsure exactly what screen this may return to, since the official tweet refers to this backstage area as the home page.

Settings/options menu.

News/updates log. Unread information indicated by a red diamond top right.

Missions, goals or achievements. Likely that completed missions with unclaimed rewards are indicated by a red diamond top right.

Giftbox. Unclaimed gifts indicated by a red diamond top right.

Chat box transcribing what the speaking idol is saying, as well as their name.

Text reads: "Beginner Mission". (Text in white below this box just says that the game is still under development).

Speaking idol. There can be multiple idols in the backstage area at once (Camus seen in the background). They are represented by 3d models, and it looks like they will interact with the background and eachother. In this case, Otoya is speaking to the player, and Camus is inspecting a book in the background. Almost certain that the outfits and room can be customised.

Button to navigate to viewing 'Emotional Pieces'. Not exactly sure the best way to translate that, despite it being in Katakana, but 'Pieces' (?) seem to be the equivalent to photos/cards in Shining Live. So I'm assuming this will be the way to view, organise, level up etc all your collected pieces, whatever they may be. The icon makes me think of the cards from Aikatsu, with different cards representing different parts of a while outfit. It makes me wonder if there'll be a bit more of a dress-up element, where you can collect and mix and match different headwear, tops, and bottoms of clothing sets. Please let me know if piece/peace means something in this context that I dont know about!

Button to navigate to the 'Piece Gacha'. The system for obtaining 'pieces' via in game currency.

Button to navigate to the story. Like other things on the UI, it seems like unlocked but unread stories are indicated by a red diamond.

Button to navigate to 'MiniPri'. Likely either or both) a view with cute chibi versions of the characters and backstage area, or the way to customise the members and background of the backstage area. I wonder if you can unlock different furniture, wallpapers, floors etc, and move them around yourself, of if the backgrounds are set.

Button to navigate to the 'Live' screen, the main song selection for the rhythm game.

[aprelline]

Theory about the "Price to pay"

Spoilers 'till chapter 260

So we're finally at the point where Yona has to talk to the dragon gods herself. We knew this was bound to happen and it was honestly the most logical turn of events. What we don't know however is the price she'll have to pay to get such a wish fulfilled.

Two theories come to mind:

1/ The first and most popular one is that Yona will have to leave the mortal realm and return to heaven to be the Crimson dragon King again.

No need for the dragon warriors anymore, they'll simply lose their powers, and the gods can finally have Yona back like they always wanted, which could be the interpretation of the last line from the prophecy "And The Red Dragon Shall Return At Dawn".

This theory, although logical, is just too cruel. Akayona is not a tragedy, I can't imagine Kusanagi will end a story about found family, self growth and overcoming your trauma with the death of the main character. I desperately tried to find another suitable price that didn't envolve Yona sacrificing herself, which leads us to the second theory:

2/Yona gets to stay on earth, but all the people she knew forget about her. I know this might sound just as cruel if not more than the previous one💦, but please hear me out 'till the end!!!!

Yona had done much more to the country as a normal girl than a princess. She went to different tribes on foot, bonded with peasants, pretended to be a bandit, pirate, an entertainer... etc, and fought off traffickers and dealers without ever mentioning she was a princess. Yes those people she helped will probably forget about her, but she can return to them and help them while being herself again. She doesn't need recognition as "Princess Yona". She draws people no matter her title.

On the other, since she'll no longer possess warriors with divine powers, she won't be a target for greedy individuals or people from enemy nations, so the gods can rest assured about her safety.

Lastly, everyone forgetting about her means that the red dragon no longer exists on earth. It's like his memory left the mortal realm and ascended to heaven again "And The Red Dragon Shall Return At Dawn". This could be an interpretation of the prophecy. The red dragon won't literally return to heaven. It's his memory that will leave people's minds and return to be a property of the heaven.

Now, even though I said that everyone will forget about Yona, I'm sure there'll be one exception to this rule. Only one individual will never forget about Yona while everyone else will, and it's Hak. The first reason is obviously the romance that'll just get reset to zero if he forgets about her. I mean, knowing  him he'll probably fall in love with her again, but it's like all their moments and all the development in their relationship will disappear and restart from zero which is something a lot of readers won't accept.

The second and most powerful reason (literally the reason that made me write  this post) is that one scene from chapter 25 that everyone hated. Remember when Yona asked Hak to be the only one to call her "Princess"? Remember when she told him even if EVERYONE IN THE COUNTRY FORGETS ABOUT HER, HE HAS TO BE THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERS?

What if that scene was actually foreshadowing the ending of the series? That everyone will forget about who Yona was, and that he will be the only one to remember? Ofc I'm sure it won't be that easy. Hak will probably have to pass some kind of test to prove that he's worthy of remembering Yona, but I'm sure he'll succeed and the gods will begrudgingly yield to his request so Yona won't live a sad and lonely life after they cast their spell.

Ofc I'm aware this is still a cruel predicament. The family she fought so hard to save will forget about her, but she'll be able to start a new relationship with them. It'll prove that their bond was always genuine, that it had nothing to do with the dragons' blood, and I'm sure they'll love her as much as they loved her before.

The country also will forget about princess Yona. Her achievements will probably all be attributed to Soowon (but it's not like she cares about fame or recognition anyway).

Speaking of Soowon, it's kinda fucked up that he gets to forget the girl he hurt so much. He'll forget that he ever had a cousin, that it was her father he murdered that night, that she was the one who got the gods to heal the descendants from the Crimson illness...etc, It's unfair but we can't do much about it I guess.

What do you guys think about this theory? Would you be okay with it if it happened at the end?

[foone]

The way it works is it's a surgery to make you immune to a bullet.

Note, that's not the same as being immune to bullets. You're only immune to a single shot: if someone shoots you twice, you're dead.

You can take the surgery again, though. The only real limitation is that you gotta wait 2-3 weeks between each time. But if you've got the money and the time, you can be as bulletproof as you want.

It doesn't "refill", by the way. Often when the surgery is explained people think it's like "a bullet a day" or "you can get shot once a year" or whatever. Nope! Once you've been shot it's just like you never had that surgery to begin with. If you want to "refill" that immunity? You have the surgery again.

No, there's no upper limit to how many times you can go, that we know of at least. There's one guy in Florida who has made it "his thing" to get the surgery as often as he can. He's currently up to about 50. Obviously there's some people online who've said they're gonna shoot this guy and lower his "record", just to be countrary.

Anyway I'm sure there'd be people who have even higher numbers (anyone who has "getting shot" as a major occupational risk, ie, politicians, soldiers, cops, and anyone doing any kind of residental survey in rural areas), but they only invented the surgery like three years ago, it's just simple math: you can't do much better than that guy.

The invention of the surgery hasn't done much to decrease gun sales, though. I mean, there's been a slight increase in people buying guns with larger capacity, for what I'd consider obvious reasons.

I did see an article suggesting that in the long run it might end up increasing the sale of guns. See their analysis is that two factors are going to drive up gun ownership:

1. People will be more willing to shoot at trespassers and thieves and such, because it'll be more like a warning shot: if they have some immunity, it won't be murder. So far that hasn't really happened as not that many people have the surgery yet. Although it's spreading fast, only major cities have surgeons trained in it, and often waits for surgery can be months long.

2. Conversely, people are going to be more likely to break in and rob and trespass if they know they can't be shot dead for it, because they got the surgery. There'll be a minor uptick in home invasions and such and this'll cause a big predictable panic among middle class homeowners who are now terrified some hooligan is gonna break into their house to steal their iPads. Thus they go throw money at security systems and cameras and guns.

So who knows at this point. If the cost (in both time and money) comes down, maybe it becomes super common for people to be so effectively invulnerable to guns that there's really no point in owning one?

I do agree with the common consensus that this is going to drive a big increase in crimes committed with knives and such. Why take a risk that your target might be immune?

Which reminds me of another thing to clarify because sometimes people online get this very wrong: it's only for bullets! You are not immune to getting hit by a car or poisoned or set on fire. Don't walk into traffic or anything, jesus.

Oh one last thing: there is a blood test that can tell if you have immunity, but it can't tell how many times you've had the surgery. You gotta figure that out yourself: so ask your doctor, search your emails, something. Every day I'm hearing from healthcare workers saying someone came in to get the blood test and it had to be explained to them that we can't tell how much protection you have: only if it's there or not. And I feel like a fool for having to say this, but REMEMBER to subtract any times you've got shot! (if you have been) Obviously!

EDIT: In light of recent events, people are sharing this post and arguing about it a lot, but let me be clear: grazes and small cuts do not count! The exact dividing line is too complicated to explain here (look up "circulatory shock" on Wikipedia), but basically if you don't end up with a big hole in you, the shot doesn't trigger the immunity.

That's how it works: you could have an ear blown clean off, and you'd still not trigger an immunity. So please stop spreading that idiotic conspiracy theory that a former president didn't have any immunity. You can barely run a high-school without being required to have immunity to hold the position, because what if someone shoots you? Come on! Of course he has immunity.

For all we know he's got some prototype experimental shit they use on president's that got him up to 200 in a couple days. There's endless rumors of the DoD funding billions in black budget items to that sort of thing, because of course. Who wouldn't want a way to make bulletproof soldiers? You don't think the soviets are pouring even more into it?

[adore-laur]

CALIFORNIA DUSK

— birth of baby #2 in the dadrry universe 🌊

——

6:24 AM

California dawn brings serenity to the house. The sun is leisurely rising, painting the sky with wispy pink brushstrokes across an endless canvas of powder blue. Seagulls croon as they fly parallel to the hazy horizon, gracefully dipping their claws down in the water to catch their first meal of the day. Waves crash against the vacant ocean shore with persistence, as if to announce that morning has arrived once again.

Soon, golden rays will seep through the flowing curtains and cast shapes on the hardwood floors. The trees will start to sway from the coastal breeze, sending earthy scents of pine and cedar into the kitchen. Toys scattered in the living room from the night before will be left alone to wallow until their owner sleepily waddles from her bedroom with a yawn and an empty stomach.

A spoon clinks against the edge of a mug, echoing throughout the tranquil kitchen as chickadees sing their song near the window. Yet the current calmness of your surroundings doesn't quite match how you feel inside.

Being awake for the past two hours—hhunched over the kitchen island and rocking side to side while breathing through painful cramping—isn't how you would've liked to commence your morning. Harry is brewing homemade coffee for himself since there's a high chance it will be a long, tiresome day ahead. He's been up with you since you started having contractions, and you tried to convince him to keep sleeping, but there was no way to persuade him since he's naturally an early riser. Also, you know he would never let you handle the discomfort alone.

Your daughter is still fast asleep in her room down the hall, oblivious to how soon she'll be a big sister. You're not looking to traumatize her at a young age, so Harry's mother is on her way to pick her up in case you give birth.

You've decided on a natural water birth this time. Being in the hospital for your first child was tolerable, but the atmosphere gave you tremendous anxiety. The nurses hovering over you, the constant beeping of the machines, and the stale room all felt suffocating. You're confident you'll feel more at ease in the comfort of your own home, with only Harry and the midwife witnessing you in your most vulnerable state.

As the pain temporarily alleviates in your abdomen, you slowly straighten your posture and walk some laps around the living room. There's nothing you can do except hang tight and see if anything progresses. The contractions haven't gotten to the point of being unbearable, but they still beg the question of whether you'll be having a baby today. It's a waiting game.

Harry is surprisingly relaxed, but you suppose it's because this isn't his first rodeo. Seeing the difference in his composure compared to the first time you went into labor is humorous. He had clammy hands, was a stuttering mess, and also forgot to bring his driver's license when he drove you to the hospital.

Now, it's like he has never been more prepared for anything in his entire life. He could be hiding his nerves well, but otherwise, he's extremely put together as he whistles the "We Just Got a Letter" jingle from Blue's Clues that always gets stuck in his head because your daughter watches the show every morning. He's already dressed for the birth that might not even happen today—swim shorts for when he gets in the birthing pool with you and a faded graphic tee that looks like it has seen better days. His favorite blue baseball cap is snug on his head, covering his messy hair that curls upwards underneath. He looks casually gorgeous in the morning light.

After your tenth lap, you wander back to the kitchen and stand beside Harry as he drops two slices of bread into the toaster. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Hi," he says, leaning his hip against the counter. "Contraction over with?"

"For now," you reply dully. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more."

He jerks his chin toward the sink. "I want you to drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please just drink one glass for me, baby," he says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of grape jam. "Let's not have a repeat of last time."

You roll your eyes and steal a cup from the drying rack. He clearly remembers when you vomited at the hospital just hours before giving birth. Yes, you were dehydrated, but that was the last thing on your mind.

As you sip cloudy tap water, you watch Harry silently spread jam onto his perfectly browned toast. He's been too quiet this morning—entirely cool, calm, and collected. You miss his delirious morning humor.

"You're scaring me."

Harry freezes with the butter knife in his grasp. "I didn't know your husband making breakfast was a fear of yours."

There it is!

"No, not that." You wipe off a glob of jam on his thumb. "You're just really relaxed right now."

Setting his toast on a plate, he turns to you with a crease between his eyebrows. "Should I be freaking out?"

"Well, I might give birth soon," you say, your heart rate increasing at the mere thought. "Doesn't that, I don't know, make you nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous," he replies, gently squeezing your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be a hot mess once you're in full-on labor. I'm just enjoying the morning with you while you're still pregnant. You know... soaking it all in."

You release a shaky exhale, your mind spiraling as everything becomes more real the longer you talk about how you'll be a family of four very soon. "Okay," you whisper unconvincingly. "That makes sense."

Harry obviously doesn't buy it because he stares at you briefly before trapping your fidgeting hands with his own. "What's going on?"

"I'm freaking out," you admit weakly. Your voice wavers, and the lump in your throat is hard to swallow.

His face softens with sympathy as your eyes gloss over with tears. "Let's walk down to the shore," he suggests, kissing your forehead. "Just you and me before it gets crazy in here."

Sniffling, you ask, "What if I can't make it back to the house?"

"Then I'll carry you."

"Good luck with that," you mutter before grabbing your phone from the kitchen table. "Let's go while I have a break from contractions."

He nods, taking his plate and the baby monitor from the countertop, and then leads the way out the patio door.

During the short journey there, your heart blooms with fondness when you catch Harry smiling to himself as he walks, his tattooed arms swinging. It's too endearing not to keep as a permanent memory, so you open the camera on your phone and press record. The fresh air has rapidly lifted your mood, and you're thankful for it.

"What are you grinning about over there?"

Harry looks up and gives the camera a big, open-mouthed smile, pure excitement exuding from him. He's been waiting so patiently for another baby, and now it's slowly but surely becoming reality.

"What's got you so happy?" You laugh and stop recording.

He shrugs, still smiling contagiously. "I can't believe it's happening. It just hit me right now."

Both of you reach the sand and sit away from the lapping waves in case you have to head back to the house promptly. Harry places himself behind you, a position that's supposed to help when a contraction comes. You can hold onto his legs for leverage and support, and he can massage wherever you're hurting.

"I can't believe it either," you reply with a pensive shake of your head.

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Harry asks, taking a crunchy bite of toast. "Emotionally, I mean."

Talk to me. It's a three-word sentence he's been saying to you for years. He always wants to know how you're feeling whenever you bottle up your thoughts—anger, sorrow, or happiness. It has never changed, and it never fails to help immensely.

"I'm not as nervous as last time," you answer, closing your eyes when he starts playing with your hair. "I feel more prepared since I know what to expect, but it's terrifying that I'm doing it naturally this time."

He hums in acknowledgment. "That's completely valid. No one expects you to be one hundred percent confident when pushing a baby out, no matter how many times you've done it before. Just know that I'm eternally grateful that you've grown two beautiful babies for us. You're a superstar."

"Thanks. I just feel like—" You gasp suddenly, your hand quickly shooting to your side as another contraction hits.

"Okay," Harry says soothingly, grabbing your hand so you can squeeze his own. He quickly unlocks his phone to set a timer. "It's okay. Breathe with me."

You inhale and exhale through the internal pain, the tight cramping making you lean back against his chest. "Harry, it hurts," you cry as your other hand grips his knee. "Ow, ow, ow."

"I've got you. Just breathe through it." He lifts the hem of your oversized shirt and spreads his hand on your stomach. It's stretched beyond belief and has dropped significantly throughout the past week. "Focus on my breathing, all right? And relax your shoulders. They're too tense."

You breathe with him as he massages your lower back. Your face is getting hot and your throat is dry, but the only thing you can fully pinpoint is the penetrating pain.

"Tell me something. Please distract me."

Harry kisses your temple. "You look really pretty."

"Shut up," you mumble with a laugh that quickly turns into a groan of discomfort.

"I'm serious. I love how you look in the morning when the sun hits your face, like right now. It makes you glow even more than usual. And the way it brightens your eyes reminds me so much of our daughter." He turns your face so you're looking at him. "I see you in her all the time."

You smile weakly and rest your head on the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Yeah, but she has your bunny teeth."

His deep, comforting laugh vibrates against your back. "Mm, you'd be the one to notice that."

You just tiredly nod as the contraction subsides. You make a good guess that you're not close to labor yet because of how far apart and mild they've been so far. The midwife is only five minutes away, so there's no dire need for her to come and check on you.

"I think that one's done." You carefully sit up and release his hand. "How long was it?"

Harry checks his phone. "Forty-seven seconds."

"Short," you think aloud. "They've been irregular, so I think they might be Braxton Hicks."

He dramatically falls back onto the sand and spreads his arms out. "Does that mean no baby today?"

You snort and cuddle up next to him. "Soon. You have to be patient."

He's silent for a minute before asking, "Isn't sex supposed to induce labor?"

You scoff and swat at his chest. "I swear you asked me that last time."

"Oh, I definitely did. You rejected me and then literally didn't go into labor until a week later, remember? You should've listened to me."

"I don't think it would be enjoyable for either of us if we tried. I couldn't even walk down here without feeling like passing out."

Harry draws patterns on your belly with his finger, causing a response of fluttery kicks from the baby. "I know, I'm only joking. We don't have to be anywhere or do anything right now. Let's stay out here for a little bit, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble into his shoulder. The world around you drowns out like the shells under the waves as you focus on his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping of your favorite part of him lulls you to sleep, his hand gently stroking your hair as time passes with each movement of the sun.

Your nerves wash away with each ocean tide, and you know everything will be all right.

——

7:03 PM 

The tub is ready.

You are not.

A shirtless Harry is already sitting in the circular birthing pool, looking like he's ready to deliver the baby himself. You've changed into your swimsuit and are now vaguely listening to what the midwife is telling you as you lean against the wall and suffer through another contraction—a particularly strong one that indicates you're going to start pushing soon.

Your water has already broken, and you're not quite sure why you're waiting until the very last second to get into the tub, but nothing in your mind is making sense due to the overwhelming pain. The bedroom is too small, the lights are too bright, the way Harry's dotingly looking at you is too much, and your body feels too weak even though it's about to perform the most vigorous exercise imaginable.

"We need you in the tub so I can check your dilation," says the midwife, snapping you out of your overthinking spiral.

"I-I can't," you reply helplessly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't want to do this."

You regret not just sucking it up and going to the hospital so they can inject you with an epidural.

"I am going to do everything I can to give you a safe and smooth delivery process," she assures you. "Your husband is waiting for you. He's going to be your support system the entire time, okay? Do you trust him to do that?"

You frantically nod your head—you've never trusted anyone more. "The water will help with the pain," she adds with a kind smile. "It will relax your muscles and make you feel very nice. Can you get in the tub for me? Harry will help you."

You look at him, seeing his slightly shaky hands beckon you closer. You swallow and take a deep breath before slowly approaching him. Equipment scatters the floor and the bed beside you—clean blankets, a tarp for the mess, towels, medical supplies, and a cup of ice.

Harry carefully helps you into the birthing tub, positioning you so your back is against his bare chest. Once you're situated in the lukewarm water, you focus on his heartbeat pounding double-time.

"I can't do this," you repeat as you slide your swimsuit bottoms off.

"Yes, you can," Harry says, kneading your shoulders. "It'll be so worth it. We'll have a baby boy or girl to hold tonight."

"I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I—"

"Hey," he scolds softly. "Please don't think like that. Remember last time? What did I tell you to do to distract yourself?"

"Count your tattoos."

"That's right. I've gotten quite a few more since then, so get to counting. Distract your mind from the pain. I'm not going anywhere."

You begin counting, starting with your name tattooed on his right thigh. You then grab his left arm and count all the small ones near his hand. The chrysanthemum on the inside of his wrist represents your daughter's birth flower, along with her date of birth written in cursive underneath. There's also the outline of a wave representing his home with you in California, where you built your life together. They all mean something near and dear to his heart.

The midwife brings you out of your trance when she leans over the pool and checks your dilation as Harry places comforting kisses on the back of your head. "You're about eight centimeters," she tells you after a few seconds of uncomfortable inspection.

"I feel like I need to push," you say timidly. "I feel the baby really low."

"We need to wait until you're ten centimeters," she replies. "If you can just hold out a little longer, it'll be much easier to push, okay?"

You nod and let out a long groan when the contraction moves from your lower back to your pelvis.

"Do you want your ice?" Harry asks.

"Yes, please."

He reaches behind him and grabs the cup filled with chipped ice. You begin chewing on a piece to cool your body temperature and force your brain to focus on something else.

Several minutes pass, with Harry whispering loving encouragements as the midwife talks you through what's about to happen. She allows you to exert tiny pushes while applying pressure to your abdomen. Everything goes in one ear and out the other, but you know the moment is almost here. There's no stopping now.

"Do you still feel like you need to push, honey?" the midwife asks, checking your dilation again.

"Yeah. Am I ten centimeters yet?"

"Just about. I'm going to have you push now."

You turn your head and stare at Harry with wide eyes. He messily captures your lips with his, then moves them near your ear. "I'm right behind you. Whatever you need, just let me know. If you need me to get out or scream at me—anything at all."

You look forward when the midwife parts your legs and encourages you to push using all of your strength.

The first push is the most agonizing. Your head throws itself back on Harry's shoulder as you grit your teeth and contract what feels like every muscle in your body. The midwife counts to ten, the seconds dragging on like minutes. Your face is scrunched up tight, and your legs are tense in the water. Harry softly counts in your ear, taking your left hand in his.

Breathe out for three. 

The second push feels like you're on fire, but not in a good way. The aching, cramping, and stinging pain shooting all over your body is borderline unbearable. It's felt externally, internally, and everywhere in between. You let a cry escape your mouth as the pain strikes your lower abdomen in full force. Harry kisses your ring finger and sets your hand on his heart.

Breathe out for three. 

The third push gets you the farthest. Your ringing ears distantly hear something along the lines of I can see the head, and you feel a sharp breath from Harry hitting your neck and a kiss behind your ear. When the midwife gets to number two, she pulls the head out. The burning sensation remains, but the most challenging part is out of the way.

Breathe out for three. 

The final push is when you give every ounce of energy you have left, squeezing both of Harry's hands so tightly that you're afraid you might break his bones. You're told to give your strongest and longest push, making your entire body rigid as you stop your breathing to make this the last one. Harry chants motivational words from behind you: They're almost here, you're doing so good, I love you. 

Then, all at once, there's release.

Relief.

Remission.

You quickly pull your baby up from under the water and cradle them against your heaving chest. You're shivering from the adrenaline, and your body feels bizarrely empty.

"It's a girl!" announces the midwife as she wipes and rubs her down with a towel.

The tears immediately fall. You hear Harry let out a quiet sob as he buries his face in your neck with trembling lips. With his forehead pressed to your skin, he sniffles while the sound of your baby girl's cries fills the room.

"Would Dad like to cut the cord?"

Harry nods and palms his tear-filled eyes. She passes tiny surgical scissors over to him and stretches the umbilical cord, showing him where to snip. He carefully moves out from behind you and releases an emotional breath as he opens the scissors, but he drops them in the tub because of his shaky hands.

"Sorry," he says with a choked laugh. He picks them up and tries again, successfully cutting the cord. The midwife cheers and begins setting things up for the after-birth process.

You cradle the back of your baby's head and cry with unspeakable happiness. "Hold her," you tell Harry now that she's detached.

He reaches his hands out, and you carefully pass her squirming body over to him. He seems almost lost in a trance for a second, but when her cries die down instantly once her skin meets his, he looks at you with the most breathtaking smile.

She clings to him like a lifeline, her cheek squished against his chest and her tiny hands spread on his collarbones. "Look," he whispers to you with watery eyes. "Look at her."

"I know. She loves you already."

His gaze is now focused on you, with an expression conveying so many emotions. You think he's never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

Those two simple words are spoken with a heavy amount of sincerity. You know what they mean: Thank you for letting me be a father. Thank you for pushing through all the mental and physical changes again. Thank you for her. 

You smile and blink back more tears. "All in a day's work."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes dance over your face. "You're the strongest person I know. I've never seen anything more incredible than what you just did."

"Thank you for helping me through it."

"I always will," he says while stroking your baby girl's back with his large hand. It almost engulfs her entire body.

"Are you insinuating we're going to have more babies?"

"You know I'd have a million with you. You're fuckin' perfect."

You slap his arm lazily. "Don't swear."

He leans in until his forehead touches yours. "Give me a kiss."

"Your lips are dry."

He licks his lips, and you meet his mouth. He hums and grins into the kiss, pulling away from you with a glint in his eyes. "I love you so much," he murmurs before glancing at his daughter. "Both of you. My heart beats for my girls."

"I love you."

A tiny hand suddenly hits Harry's mouth. He sputters a laugh and grabs it, kissing it repeatedly until she lets out a gurgle. He laughs in disbelief and hikes her up to smell her head, the baby scent being one of his favorite parts about having a newborn.

"Already a daddy's girl," you slur tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

He puckers endless kisses onto her head. "Think I'll keep you forever, angel," he tells her. "Is that okay? Hmm? Gonna be my snuggle bug when I need it the most?"

Her eyes remain closed, and her lips smack as she lets out a silent cry. You look at Harry, and you find him absolutely mesmerized by her. Every small movement she makes, every change in facial expression, every noise that comes from her—he's watching it all with proud eyes and a permanent smile.

No other man would you want as your husband. No other man would you want to be the father of your babies.

——

8:40 PM

It's been a little over an hour since you gave birth, and since then, you've been moved to the bed after being cleaned up. You've just finished breastfeeding and now lie with her in your arms as you try to fall asleep next to Harry. He's still making calls to his loved ones to tell them the news, and each time he does, he gets emotional all over again when the person on the other line gasps or screams with joy.

He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and part of his hair is held back with one of your daughter's pink butterfly clips. You're both running on empty but have never been more blissfully content as she sleeps, her body wrapped in a white swaddle and a baby beanie snug on her head.

The windows are open, letting the ocean breeze waft in and cool your body's dull ache. The midwife had been kind enough to bring you snacks, leaving ice water, a plate of crackers, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt for you on the nightstand. There was an instance when Harry asked for a spoonful of your yogurt, and when you fed it to him, some dropped onto your baby's cheek. You both broke into silent laughter until she got fussy from your movements. Or maybe it was from the cold dollop of yogurt on her sensitive skin. Either way, it was entertaining.

Now, you drift off beside him and feel the soft breaths of your baby girl on your breast as the linen curtains blow in time with the swelling waves meeting the shore.

"Are you awake?" Harry asks quietly after he ends another call.

"Barely," you whisper into his sleeve. It smells like heaven.

He kisses your temple and inhales deeply. "I just got off the phone with my boss. He says congratulations and to name her after him."

You release a laugh laced with drowsiness. "I don't think she'd appreciate being named after an ornery old man."

"True. That was the last call I needed to make, by the way." He scoots down the bed and gently nuzzles his head into your side. "Get some rest. I'll be quiet now."

"I don't want to miss anything," you say, even though your eyes have been involuntarily closing for the past ten minutes.

He lightly scratches up and down your arm. "She's sleeping, my love."

"I know, but what if she does something cute?"

"Then I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" Your eyes droop once again with overpowering fatigue.

"I promise." He seals it with a tender kiss on your shoulder. "You need—"

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts him and makes your head turn toward the sound. The knob jiggles for a few seconds before the door slowly opens with a creak to reveal your daughter standing there. She's holding her favorite blanket, her thumb tucked in her mouth. You assume Harry's mother must have just arrived and is letting her have some alone time with the both of you.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry says softly. "C'mere, we've got a surprise for you."

She cautiously shuffles over to the edge of the bed and inspects the sleeping bundle in your arms. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?" you ask her.

She nods distractedly, her eyes still glued to the baby. Harry smiles and picks her up, setting her on his lap. "That's your baby sister," he explains. "You're officially a big sister now."

She looks at him. "Where?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle and shifts her closer to the baby. "Right here, sweetheart. She's sleeping, so you have to be quiet."

"Oh," she whispers. You and Harry exchange smiles.

"Isn't she pretty?" you ask.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a whisper as she pokes the baby's fists. "So little."

"She is," Harry says with a sniffle. "You were once that little. You have no idea how perfectly you fit in my arms."

You kiss her cherubic cheek. "Do you want to hold her?"

She glimpses at Harry as if to ask for permission, and he nods his head in encouragement. He positions her between the two of you, and then you maneuver the baby into her arms while ensuring the head is supported.

The sight is something out of a dream. How attentive she is to her new baby sister, admiring her like a delicate flower, examining her closely like a beautiful specimen, gently touching her nose and puckered lips. She keeps looking at you and Harry when the baby wiggles or makes a noise, a look of pure innocence and curiosity that brings more heartfelt tears to your eyes.

You eventually peel your gaze away from her and find Harry staring at you. A tear falls from his bottom eyelashes, his nostrils flaring from residual emotions hitting him. Reaching over, you thumb away the teardrop and focus on the bay window. The sun has dived below the darkening horizon, allowing stars to faintly dot the sky. Cicadas buzz in nearby bushes, and the night tides of the ocean collide with the sand that will soon be illuminated by the moon.

It's quiet in the bedroom, with nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional coo from the baby. Your family of three is now four, and you've never felt more full of love. The world around you is serene, just like it was during the sunrise before she came into the world.

California dusk has brought you an angel.

——