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inkskinned · 6 months

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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

#spilled ink #warm up #“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol #btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can #run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her #but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!

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toneitdownnnn · 4 months

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Website : https://www.toneitdownnnn.com

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submariini · 8 months

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When Finland’s Käärijä took the stage at this year’s Eurovision, a star was instantly, explosively born. With an outrageous energy, infectious presence and that oh-so-catchy hook, the Vantaa-based rapper may not have won the contest but he certainly snatched the hearts of those in his home country and beyond. We ask Käärijä the million dollar question: what next?

[full article under the cut]

Last May, a peculiar frenzy engulfed Finland. Virtually all green foods – cucumbers, especially – were sold out from stores. Buildings across the land were bathed in vivid green lights. Social media brimmed with green-themed parties, while data obtained by Swedish fintech company Klarna showed a 570 per cent increase in the online sales of neon green shirts.

This phenomenon was all thanks to Käärijä, the rapper who represented Finland in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest. His now-infamous, blazing green puff sleeve bolero – dreamt up by Finnish broadcasting company Yle’s costume design team and which he dons when performing the smash hit track ‘Cha Cha Cha’ – had taken on a life of its own, the lush hue uniting the entire nation amid the competition. “It was incredible to see it happen and so cool being part of it,” Käärijä says. “It wasn’t planned at all – it was the people who created the commotion. I’ll definitely never forget it.”

When we speak over Zoom, Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, is lounging in his minimal apartment in Vantaa, a city just outside Helsinki. He appears on my screen shirtless, a chunky gold chain dangling on his neck. On his head sits a pastel turquoise cap adorned with little cat ears. As he gestures with his hands, I spot flashes of poison green nail varnish. Pöyhönen’s chosen attire, or lack thereof, is extremely fitting – he typically performs bare-chested (“It gets so hot during my gigs”) and his Instagram handle is @paidatonriehuja, or ‘shirtless rascal’.

Hot off a performance in western Finland, the 29-year-old is enjoying his first days off in a while. It’s been a sweltering summer of non-stop touring, with fans flocking to festivals and concerts nationwide to see his explosive live show. Things are not winding down either, with Käärijä heading off on his first-ever European tour this month. Some of these shows sold out in mere minutes, an indication of his immense international following. “It’s so exciting; I’m definitely jumping into a new territory with that tour,” Pöyhönen says. “But I don’t have any expectations – I’m just going to let everything happen organically rather than stressing about it.”

Although he created one of this year’s buzziest songs, the guy on my screen is humble and, save for his look, almost un assuming. I remark on the stark contrast to his fiery and flamboyant stage presence. “Through Käärijä, I get to channel all the craziness, quirkiness and hyperactivity I’ve had since I was a child,” Pöyhönen says, describing himself offstage as “just this ordinary dude”. Without delving into further details, he tells me that the name Käärijä (translating roughly to moneymaker) stems from a history with gambling. Despite the darkness of its origin, he notes that the moniker is to be taken with a grain of salt.

While it might seem like Käärijä exploded into the public consciousness from obscurity, Pöyhönen has a long journey in music behind him. Born in Helsinki but having spent most of his youth in Vantaa, he started dabbling in the medium at just three years old. Coming from a musical family (“My dad and big brother both play the guitar”), jamming sessions were commonplace in the Pöyhönen household, his instrument of choice being the drums. “I was playing with pots and spoons before I got a set of those plastic kids’ drums,” he says. “When we moved to a bigger house, we built a band room downstairs where me and my brother spent a lot of time practising.”

At that time, rap music hadn’t yet entered Pöyhönen’s life; he was strictly a self-described “metal guy”. His older brother had instilled in him a love for the genre, particularly metal icons Rammstein. Upon starting high school, his musical taste broadened and he began listening to Eminem and popular Finnish rap groups Fintelligens and JVG. “Me and my friends were filming our own music videos to old rap songs, learning the words by heart,” Pöyhönen says. “It [making rap music] pretty much started as this humour thing I did with my mates.”

Encouraged by his loved ones, Pöyhönen began writing his own songs, still playing it for laughs. Turned out he had a knack for it. “Since I was little, I’ve been an avid storyteller – my imagination ran a little wilder than the rest of the kids’ at my school,” he says. “So when I started making music, I didn’t even need inspiration; I was able to whip up the lyrics from my head.”

But then, at 15, an unexpected turning point came by way of a severe sudden illness. Rushed to the hospital with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, Pöyhönen underwent emergency surgery to remove his colon. Had he not been treated immediately, the complications could have been fatal. “I was writing songs in the hospital – music became a source of strength for me,” he says. “I decided that if I make it through this, I’m going to give my all to music and be serious about it.”

After over a decade of hard work and countless hours in the studio, Käärijä released his first album, Fantastista (Fantastic), in 2020, but it would take three years for him to become a household name in Finland. After snapping up the top prize in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (the Finnish contest for new music) with his party anthem ‘Cha Cha Cha’, a song dedicated to a hedonistic night out fusing rap, electronic music and metal, he secured the coveted spot as his country’s entrant for the 2023 Eurovision, held in Liverpool. One of Pöyhönen’s craziest dreams had come true.

For Pöyhönen, Eurovision was “an amazing but immensely tough experience”. The event’s intense schedule and the little time carved out for practising surprised the artist. There was no room for errors or retakes once it was time for rehearsals. “They didn’t give much mercy,” he says. On the bright side, the long days filled with “lots of press conferences and waiting around” gave Pöyhönen a chance to get to know the other artists. “The group we had there was wonderful – there wasn’t a competitive atmosphere at all,” he says. One of the contestants he became especially close with was Sweden’s Loreen, with whom he exchanged numbers and promised to “meet up and talk about everything else but music”.

By the time the grand finale came, Käärijä’s explosive performance and infectious song had made him one of the favourites to win. Ultimately he came second, while Loreen nabbed first place. How did Pöyhönen handle the letdown? “It was a huge disappointment, but in the end, the feeling didn’t last long,” he says. “When I thought about how far I’d gotten, the incredible journey it was and all the new friends I made, I realised that these things are far more meaningful than winning.” Plus, he still achieved something major: ‘Cha Cha Cha’ made history as the first ever Finnish song to reach Spotify’s global most-listened charts. The track’s reach proved to Pöyhönen that language doesn’t matter; it’s all about creating a singular, infectious sound: “The mouth is just as much of an instrument as the piano or the guitar is,” he says.

Having made history, I ask Pöyhönen if he felt any pressure after the Eurovision bubble had burst. “Of course there are the thoughts of ‘what now?’ and ‘is this going to be it, will anyone be interested anymore next year?’ – I’m aware that the hype won’t last forever,” he says. “But I’m onto creating the next thing, trying not to feel any pressure for future releases. I haven’t done that before, so why would I do that now?”

Pöyhönen hints at a new album dropping sometime next year, but in the meantime, he’s enjoying the attention – including his Vogue Scandinavia debut. Shot at the extraordinary home of the late interior architect Antti Nurmesniemi and his wife, textile artist Vuokko Nurmesniemi, we find the space where Pöyhönen and Käärijä meet, the quiet confidence mingling with that more-is-more persona.

And while Käärijä might develop as a character (“I want to show that he’s more than just a bolero chap”), he’s adamant that he will stay true to his music and keep singing in Finnish, despite the sudden international attention. “In the end, I’m doing this for myself,” he says. “Also, why change something that works?”

Photographer: Karoliina Bärlund Stylist: Sanna Silander Talent: Käärijä Hair Stylist and Makeup Artist: Neea Kuurne Photographer Assistant: Milja Laakso Stylist Assistant: Nelli Korhonen

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #eurovision #the article in full

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thepaperpanda · 8 months

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From below || Sae Itoshi x f!reader

Summary: You assist your boyfriend Sae in reloading his frustration, and in doing so, you earn a delectable reward

Warnings: oral sex, aged up Sae

Word count: 800

Authors: Bear

A/N: Here is another contribution for Kinktober '23 Collaboration. My prompt was: oral sex

Masterlist

When he was free from grueling football training sessions, Sae relished the opportunity to unwind by indulging in some gaming sessions with his friends.

Sae's frustration manifested as a low growl that rumbled in his throat, his grip on the mouse tightening as he stared at the screen of his online survival game, where the dreaded words "Mission failed" taunted him mercilessly. The virtual setback only served to stoke the flames of his annoyance.

You knew exactly how to soothe his frustration, so you started to casually come closer, preparing to intervene. You found it rather uncomfortable when Sae became angry. You had a preference for his calm demeanor, as opposed to the use of strong language and intense emotions.

In a fit of irritation, Sae slammed his hands down on the desk, unleashing a torrent of curses directed at both his fellow players and the game itself. It was then that you decided to make your presence known, gently kneeling beside him. His scowl gradually transformed into a frown as he looked down at you, his eyes shifting between your enticing presence and the PC screen demanding his focus.

"What do you want, baby? M' busy," Sae muttered, his voice a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

With a sultry tone, you expressed your desire, "I want something in my mouth, please?" You knew that the best way to make him calmer was to suck his dick.

His response was a dark chuckle as he considered your proposition. "Suck me good, and I'll give you a reward for that, princess," he replied, rising from his seat to undo his jeans, which brought his boxers along with them.

Nodding, you tugged at them until they were sitting around his thighs as you adjusted yourself, leaning forward.

His cock stood proudly erect, a vivid shade of red. Beads of precum glistened at the tip, a sight that never failed to make your mouth water. He possessed a truly beautiful cck, one that was just perfect for the kind of intimate attention you were about to bestow upon it. You couldn't resist poking your tongue out, delivering delicate kitten-like licks along his length. Your thighs involuntarily clenched as you savored the taste.

With a desire to please, you opened your mouth a little wider, welcoming the cockhead into your warm, wet embrace. The slightly salty tang of his pre-cum didn't deter you in the slightest. Your tongue danced over his slit, causing him to groan and shift in his chair.

"Fuck, baby, more or you don't get your reward," he groaned, his hand reaching down to gently pet your head.

His neediness elicited a soft giggle from you as you eagerly descended towards the base of his cock, your head bobbing up and down in a rhythm of desire and submission. The room was filled with the sounds of your eager slurping.

His fingers threaded through your hair, exerting gentle pressure as he emitted throaty groans of encouragement from above. It was a silent plea, urging you to take him even deeper.

You complied, pushing down on his cock, allowing it to slide farther into the depths of your throat, a sensation that made you gag ever so slightly.

“Nghhh, just like that, fuck, doing so g-good, baby” Sae breathed out as you looked from under your false lashes as he threw his head back in ecstasy.

Your groans vibrated around his twitching cock, the sensations overwhelming as he fervently praised you, "Fuck, baby, you're fucking me so good, my sweet, obedient girl."

In response to his words, your hand descended from his thigh, firmly taking hold of his full, needy balls. His response was an unabashed whine, so intense that you were certain the neighbors could hear him. The mere thought of the audacity of your escapade sent a dizzying rush of excitement through you. You were sucking harder on Sae’s cock as you massage his heavy, cum-filled balls. You were aching to have a taste of his semen.

Your tongue continued its tantalizing dance around the sensitive head of his cock, and Sae's breath hitched as he stuttered out a small, breathless declaration, "M' gonna cum." The anticipation built as you felt the precum ooze into your mouth, and your lips slid down his shaft.

Sae couldn't contain his desire any longer. He rolled his head back, and his cock twitched before releasing hot spurts of cum into your eager mouth. "Swallow," he groaned, his voice husky with satisfaction, as he rode out the waves of his climax. "Fucking good girl, you did so amazing for me," he praised, a deep sense of appreciation in his words.

As he reclined back in his chair, he created some space for you to rise from the ground. His tone softened as he beckoned you closer, patting his lap invitingly. "C'mere," he whispered, a tone reserved just for you. "I think it's my time to repay."

#kinktobercollab‘23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober2023 #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #sae smut #bllk imagines #bllk x you #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut #x reader smut

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yourdoorisunlocked · 2 months

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Kill Your Darlings - Part Three

𝐀/𝐍: I think I'll start posting the rest of this series on A03, while posting one-shots and requests on Tumblr. It's been cool posting my series here, but I prefer posting to A03 when it comes to longer fics.

Nonetheless, please enjoy!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟑,𝟑𝟓𝟎

The incessant clicking of a mousepad and the mad ticking of fingers flying over a keyboard filled the barren kitchen, as he occasional moan of the wind rocking the apartment complex back and forth and the cold, hard blare of the silver screen on your laptop aggravated the pain of your headache.

The tips of your toes just barely brushed against the frigid kitchen tile as you leaned obsessively over your computer, clicking away on the mousepad like it was your lifeline.

At that point, it very well could’ve been, since the precious piece of technology held all of your answers, answers that Alastor wouldn’t offer you – not without a price.

And you had nothing left to barter, since he already owned your soul – a thought that loomed over you when the demon wasn’t around to distract you from that chilling reality. Alastor owned you. He could’ve pushed you around like a dog strapped to a chain, and yet he didn’t. Most likely because he couldn’t truly control you, since you weren’t lost to his wrathful clutches just yet.

So, using your timed freedom, you did some digging around on the web in a last-ditch attempt to find anything about Alastor himself, and his history. Know thy enemy, as the saying goes.

But whether he was truly your enemy, would be tested with time.

And right now, the blasted internet was proving to be a worthy opponent, since you were practically tearing your hair out by the bunches since you barely discovered anything about him. Still, you were determined to decode his mystery. Humans were terrifyingly efficient at finding each other, and dead ones would be no more difficult, even if you found squat about Alastor.

Mark my words. I’ll find out who you are, Alastor.

“Where there is a will,” you clicked away from the barren search results, fully prepared to surf around the dark web if you had to, “There is a fucking way.”

Even though you hadn’t a clue to his origins or background, you were convinced that Alastor had to have been some kind of serial killer while he was alive, and you’d bet your soul on it.

His personality fit the stereotype – a well-based one, at that – he was haunting your fucking radio – granted, a very swanky radio – and on top of that, Alastor was a literal demon . Maybe. You weren’t all that certain about what exactly he was, but there was too much evidence supporting the theory to consider him being anything but.

Whatever the case, you were convinced. Alastor was, without a doubt, a bona fide serial murderer . Perhaps that ominous information should’ve put you on edge, but you were twisted too deep in Alastor’s captivating mystery to care. Fascination had overcome your fear of the unknown, and you were ready to dive in, and lose yourself in his mysterious past.

But that was proving to be damn near impossible, when you could barely find anything about the bastard. He was a footnote in history, at best. No last name, no family members related to him, nothing.

Still, you were determined.

Leaning forward, you chewed on your thumb nail whilst scrolling through yet another forum that went into thorough detail about demon encounters and sacrificial rituals. Or, at least, a human’s rendition of them.

You had sifted through a fair share of information on demons as well but turned up with virtually nothing, save for many helpful bold-lettered warnings that demanded to be heeded: Do not. Fuck. With demons.

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered to yourself, clicking away from the site before groaning and massaging your aching temples.

By all standards, it had been an agonizingly unproductive session of information-scouring. However, you had made some headway with a client of yours and finished most of your task list. Everything minor was shoved to the side in desperation of somehow piecing together Alastor’s intentions, stressing over his poorly veiled threats, and trying to figure out just whoever the hell he was in life.

Just as you were about to yield to the great barriers of the internet, with nothing but an increased hopelessness and frustration at your lack of understanding of your new “Master” – as you were loath to call him – a soft wisp of a shadow flitting about the kitchen caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

“Hello, there,” you sighed without looking up at the shadow, already annoyed with its presence as it leaned over the counter with a smug grin.

One glance at the computer and your hopelessness told it a thousand words regarding your predicament.

“Yeah, yeah, you can gloat later. I got plenty done, anyhow.” You raised an eyebrow towards it. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about him, would you?”

The shadow stared down at you, unimpressed as it crossed its arms, crackling curtly in response. Absolutely not.

“Aw, come on, not even for a snack? I could make you something.” You nodded towards the fridge, grinning when it perked up and followed your glance. “Just throw me a bone here. Give me a hint, anything, and maybe I’ll give you a nice meal. How does that sound? C’mon, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Its emerald green sockets glimmered mischievously, and it bristled with a soft purr as it leaned down on the counter, practically drooling at the thought of a meal.

A low rumble shook the floors with an unmistakable growl of hunger, and it whined softly.

You pouted sympathetically. Seems like Alastor hasn’t fed it, recently.

“Oh, poor baby,” it nuzzled into your soothing touch as you scratched behind one ear. “I’m sure he doesn’t feed you as much as he should,” the shadow’s stomach rumbled in response.

“Resorting to bribery, are we?”

You rolled your eyes as the radio flickered on, and you raised an eyebrow at it as it sat innocently upon the coffee table. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You cooed down at the eager shadow as you completely ignored Alastor and his offended scoff.

“Ignoring someone when they’re talking to you is quite rude, my dear-!”

“I have some chicken that I can prepare for you. You can choose the spices, the temperature, whatever you want,” you were beaming cheekily when the shadow perked up, one fuzzy ear twitching towards you.

“Temptress,” Alastor snapped.

You at least had the decency to feel partly ashamed, though you just grinned triumphantly. You weren’t proud of having to barter for information, but whatever got you the scoop on Alastor was well worth it.

“That’s right, just imagine those carefully baked, golden-brown edges, and oh, think of the spices!” Alastor rolled his eyes at your dramatic tone, choosing to peek through the shadow’s eyes at you. Pretty little temptress. You’d somehow tamed his shadow, and he was certain it wasn’t just the chicken that it was after.

To Alastor’s chagrin, the devilish phantom had all but leapt over the counter towards you, curling around you with a loud purr as it nuzzled into your neck.

You chuckled at its antics and pushed yourself up from your seat, stretching your cramped back and legs and wincing from the lightning strikes of pain that shot up your joints from the hours of sitting in a hunched position.

“Alright, let’s get you some food,” you scratched beneath its chin, and it hummed contentedly in response, its fluffy tail enthusiastically beating the air.

“Traitor.”

You cast a triumphant smirk at the slight pout in Alastor’s from the other side of the line. “Oh, I’m just doing some charity work. Clearly, you’ve been starving the poor thing,” you rubbed the shadow’s cheek, grinning smugly as it nuzzled into your neck with a soft coo.

“Charity work!? You’ve seduced it with your wiles!” Alastor spat indignantly.

You rolled your eyes while pulling out a few ingredients. “It’s food, Alastor. And you know what they say,” the shadow suddenly tittered and flew away from your side to rummage through the spice cabinet, “The way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach.”

“It has no heart, and it is no man,” his tone darkened slightly, but you either took no notice or simply didn’t care as you took out the raw chicken from the fridge.

“But it’s attached to one,” you grinned cheekily as the shadow returned with several spices in its arms while smiling widely with a wagging tail, while Alastor scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

You clapped your hands. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

. . .

Alastor had grown quiet for most of the process, leaving you and the shadow in pure, content silence as you got to work around the kitchen. The shadow was entirely unbothered at his master’s sudden radio silence, instead choosing to make itself comfortable looming around your form while watching you season and prepare its supper.

As you waited for the chicken to be cooked, you turned to the shadow who had been staring at you with its head resting upon its inky palm while watching you work with salivating, emerald eyes, simmering with the fire of raw gemstones.

“Now, I believe I was promised some information in return?”

Static buzzed as it put a finger to its chin, humming softly before speeding off into the apartment, and it soon returned with a pen and paper and scribbled madly across the parchment.

Alastor Hartifelt.

As soon as the name tumbled from your lips, a loud record-scratching screech sounded from the living room.

Ӻᵾȼҟ.

But you didn’t even flinch at the ear-splitting noise as you grinned and nodded in approval, your determination flickering bright yet again. “Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” You barely got a moment to process your excitement at a new lead, a possible doorway to the holy grail of information about the strange, ominous demon haunting your actual radio-!

Ding!

The shadow’s ears twitched in the direction of the noise, and it was suddenly nipping at your nipping at your heels and pushing you insistently towards the oven. You were certain that it was drooling all over your floor, but you stifled your jittering excitement anyway. There were promises to be fulfilled, after all.

“Alright, alright!” Batting the phantom away, you grabbed the oven mitts with a sigh.

“Not so easy now, is it?”

“Oh, nobody asked you!”

You soon plated the chicken and served it over to the phantom, who made quick work of the poor bird in mere seconds. At least it was already dead, you shuddered, trying to push the image of being ferociously torn apart by its razor-sharp canines out of your mind.

It licked its chops with a satisfied rumble once it finished with not a crumb left on the plate you offered, and you were still reeling from the bizarre few minutes you spent watching it enjoy your cooking.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it licked the plate. Seriously, how long has it been since the poor thing’s eaten?

The shadow immediately curled around you as you sat down in front of the counter, hissing lowly at the laptop before burying its face in your neck with a soft growl. You didn’t want to be rude and shove it away, and besides, the shadow’s aura was surprisingly warm, which shielded you from the cold, drafty air of the apartment.

And so, you allowed it to remain cooing and teething around your neck – as on-edge as it made you – while you typed Alastor’s full name into the search bar.

As soon as you hit enter, the internet decided to be helpful again, and provided you with a golden website, containing any and all answers to your ever gluttonous curiosity for your new demonic companion, and his shadowy servant.

You smirked and ruffled one of the shadow’s ears. “Nice sleuthing, Alastor Jr.” The shadow grinned into your neck and pulled you even closer, while Alastor chuckled softly at the nickname, choosing to survey the laptop through the eyes of his ghostly scout.

Not the first choice I’d make, since simply going down to the station would’ve sufficed. Alastor sniffed and rapped his gleaming nails against his desk, eyeing the device with distaste. Then again, it doesn’t seem like those incompetent oafs would want an account of something so gruesome happening just beneath their noses staining their records!

You relaxed into your seat, mentally preparing for the deep dive into Alastor’s shady past that you were about to take. It seemed that no information was buried enough to be obscured, so long as you were awfully specific with your search.

But thank the merciful deities above that some history buff – who seemed quite outraged at the lack of discussion and information around their favorite serial killer – had taken it upon themselves to collect and piece together a consistent timeline of events, all centered around one Alastor Hartifelt.

Got’chya.

You scrolled a little bit through the Godsent gold mine of information, baffled at just how much there was for you to access. Apparently, Alastor Hartifelt had been a charismatic personality on the radio, a beloved host and rising star in New Orleans. Around the time that he’d made his debut as a radio host, however, was when the murderers started.

The presence of the Bayou Butcher rocked the city harder than any other scandal at the time, and you couldn’t blame the people for being so paranoid, after reading the brief description of his kills, and his M.O.

You whistled. “Damn. You have quite the track record, Alastor.”

“I’m well aware, my dear!”

You raised an eyebrow at the sound of ruffling paper in the background, accompanied by the clicking of frantic typing. But it didn’t sound anything like the short tapping of a keyboard, and the telltale ring heightened your suspicions. He cannot be serious...

“Alastor, do you have a goddamn typewriter?”

“It’s essential, darling! Every good radio host needs a captivating script,” you laughed and shook your head. He’s committed to the bit, I’ll give him that.

As you explored the very depths of the case surrounding the Bayou Butcher, you began to grow quite curious and weary of just how Alastor disposed of his victims. Unfortunately, there was a certain tab that fed into that very curiosity. At least they provided a warning, before you could view what came next. This one was on yourself.

“Fucking Christ!” You nearly jumped out of your seat as you clasped your mouth in horror, eyes widened with terror at the gory, uncensored photograph of one of Alastor’s maimed victims.

The poor soul’s belly had been slit open with a still-inserted butcher knife, with his rotting insides displayed for all to see and staining the floor with bile and undigested food. Squirming maggots and fat cockroaches feasted upon the corpse, which had been festering with mold and disease in Alastor’s basement for quite some time before the authorities found it.

“Language, my dear~,” said demonic psychopath sang from the radio, and you were just about ready to chuck that thing out of your window as your eye twitched.

“Prick...” you muttered, quickly scrolling away from the photograph.

“I heard that.”

“Greatest apologies, my liege,” you rolled your eyes. Alastor let out an amused huff but said nothing as he went right back to typing out his script.

Bold headlines like ‘The Bayou Butcher Strikes Again!’ or ‘Victims Brutalized and Missing, Families Torn Apart’ were thrown around wherever you scrolled, and a mere glance at the cohesive timeline provided in one of the documents gave you a good window for how long Alastor had been active.

“Huh. Seven years...” Alastor perked up at the sudden weariness lacing your meek voice. He had been tuning out for most of your little binging spree, instead electing to tuck into a book in the later evening, since sleep was seldom required for him. Nonetheless, he reluctantly took a peek through his shadow’s eyes to see what you were looking at on that blasted lap-top doohickey of yours, and dread filled his heart.

Seems that some folks were quite fixated upon my choice of diet...

Alastor bristled at the other end of the line, practically scenting the small flicker of terror. Your rising fear of him was building up again, and that just wouldn’t do.

Sure, Alastor was cruel, a monster, even, and he knew it. His deeds would instill fear in the hearts of even the most hardened soldiers, and his gluttony, his bloodlust knew no bounds. But not to you, not to the poor, lost little lamb that he’d so graciously taken into his care, that practically domesticated his shadow, who bantered with him. And just when he’d finally broken down a small part of your walls-

“...So, is it true?”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, halting from his tireless typing for a moment. “Is what true, my dear?”

“That you...” you held back from gagging, and a slick smile crept onto his gray lips, “That you ate some of your victims?”

Sighing, he leaned back in his cushioned chair and gripped the small microphone that he used for broadcasting. The idea of lying to you, treating you like everyone else prickled at his heart with resentment. There was no need to push you away. You were different. It would be different, this time.

It had to be.

With a defeated sigh, Alastor nodded, though you couldn't see him. At least you’d know, now. At least there wouldn’t be any secrets between you two.

“Yes,” was the demon, the cannibal’s resounding answer, and the room grew a few degrees colder with tension.

You’d known that Alastor was... shady, at best. But now, it was out. It was certain. Alastor was a dangerous man, during life and death, but you knew that from the jump.

But at least he told you the truth, and maybe you could count on that, which was a strangely comforting thought.

You sighed with relief. “As long as you don’t force me to try it.” Alastor chuckled along with you, grinning wider when you clicked away from the computer and sat back with a tired sigh.

“I think that’s enough snooping for tonight. ‘Night, Al’,” you yawned and softly rolled the shoulder that the phantom had been leaning on, and it retracted reluctantly with a soft whine.

“Wait-!”

You paused. Turning to the radio, you cocked an eyebrow at the desperation in Alastor’s voice, and he seemed to notice it too, since an awkward silence followed. Heat crept up the radio host’s neck, prompting him to itch and pull at his collar with a low snarl.

Alastor fucking loathed this feeling.

“Did you... Did you see anything else? Anything that caught your eye, perhaps?”

It was the first time that Alastor had spoken to you with anything but suave confidence. “No, why? Is there something even worse than cannibalism, that I should know about?” Crossing your arms, you leaned against the threshold of the living room.

Alastor softly cleared his throat. “No, nothing like that, my dear. I was simply curious as to how much information was disclosed...” he straightened in his seat, refusing to recognize his anxiousness. “Any mentions of family, spouses, perhaps...?”

You shook your head with a negatory hum. “Nope, it was all just about you. Why’s that? Did you have a wife? Or a husband?”

“Just wondering, darling,” he replied hastily, choosing to side-step that question as relief flooded him.

You eyed the radio sympathetically. “Sorry, if that’s... a bit too personal for you. I get it, if you don’t want to talk about it.” Shrugging, you started down the hallway with a wave and a yawn. “Goodnight, Alastor.”

Alastor watched you, yearning, remorseful eyes tracing the familiar, soft curves of your form as you disappeared down the hallway.

And he answered your final words of the night, a solemn whisper against the cold, bleak air as memories of decades passed invading his memory, threatening overflowing emotions to pool to the surface.

If you only you could hear the choke in his voice, the restrained tears, the remorse, the regret.

“Goodnight, my darling.”

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Thank you for reading <3 It'll be a while before I post here again, since I'll be focusing on my series on A03. If you'd like to read the rest of the fic, I'll put my account below for ya'll

𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 - A03

. . .

➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters

#alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #yourdoorisunlocked #yandere alastor x reader #possessive behavior

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froot-batty · 9 months

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next batch of designs are done! gotham city sirens time >:) blurbs about them under the cut, along with explanations of flags and neurodivergencies!

Pamela Isley came from a rural flower farm a long ways from Gotham. Her parents let her run wild from a very young age, and one of her favorite places on their property to go was the pond, deep in the woods, where everything grew just a bit too tall and nothing looked quite as it should've. Pamela didn't know that this pond was actually highly polluted by the dumping of experimental chemicals from a nearby "research" laboratory. She thought being able to communicate with the plants - the Green, she called it - was completely normal.

...Until the people from that laboratory heard about the mysterious girl helping the plants grow stranger. They came to Pamela's parents to ask if it would be possible to study it, and they, not realizing what exactly that meant, agreed. They whisked it away to a facility in Gotham, where Pamela would end up never seeing it's parents again.

She was kept there for the rest of her childhood and into her adulthood, being experimented on until she twisted into the plant beast that she is today. When she escaped, it came after years of hiding the true strength of her powers, so she could build them up enough to turn the facility to rubble.

(It is AroAce, Agender, and Intersex)

Harleen Quinzel always had trouble controlling her impulses. Coming from a very wealthy, very upper-crust family, any step out of line was harshly corrected by either of her parents. As a child she didn't know any better, but after years and years of repression coming from her family, she eventually clammed up and tried to fit into their perfect little mold. This included going to medical school, though she did at least get to pick something she was genuinely passionate about - psychology.

Harley was finally living on their own by the time they started working at Arkham, though they'd not yet broken out of that mental control their parents still had over them. Being in Arkham was like being on an alien planet. They had come from a world where everyone was fake, and Arkham seemed so...real. Talking with their patients opened their mind up even further. Even if what they did was violent, or utterly nonsensical to everyone else, insanity seemed like it was a sort of freedom that Harley never had.

This was compounded by it meeting the Joker. He saw that piece of it that wanted, desperately, to get free, and through their sessions he was able to get into it's head and...push it over the edge, so to speak.

(Harley and the Joker are not explicitly romantically involved in this, I should mention. They've got a weird queerplatonic thing going on. Also they're not toxic they're BFFs forever)

(They are Pansexual, Genderfluid, and have ADHD and Borderline Personality Disorder)

Selina Kyle grew up like an alley cat on the streets of Gotham. With two addict parents in the Narrows who cared very little about her, she was virtually homeless, with how little time she spent at home and how much she spent wandering the dangerous streets. It was in the Narrows that she met one of her closest childhood friends, Harvey Dent, and through him, the elusive Bruce Wayne.

The three of them were thick as thieves all through her childhood, though began to drift away when college time came around. Bruce had up and left the moment he turned 18 without any real warning to the two of them, and Harvey was off to college to try and become a lawyer. This left Selina all alone, once again.

But she had made a pact to herself. She didn't want to live on the streets of Gotham forever. She had started pickpocketing from a very young age, so she would just expand her skills - become Gotham's cat burglar. It started out as only a way to pay her bills, but she found she grew addicted to the feeling of it; the freedom of being able to slip into wherever she wanted and make some poor, rich fool a million dollars short. It was a sort of revenge for her (and the regular cash flow didn't hurt).

She was surprised when Bruce came back to Gotham and tried to reconnect with her. They hadn't talked in over a decade, but they found themselves reconnecting with surprising ease. Their close friendship would drive Harvey mad with jealousy, but neither of them realized that until it was too late.

The scar on her face is from Harvey's attempt on her life, after he became Two-Face.

(She is a Lesbian)

#SORRY THE BLURBS ARE SO FUCKIGN LONG #i debated putting them in separate posts but eh. im too lazy. just putting them here #frootverse #rogues gallery #pamela isley #poison ivy #harley quinn #selina kyle #catwoman #gotham city sirens #batman #my art #rogue design

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growingstories · 11 months

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Side business

Gianni, a 23-year-old marketeer that recently graduated, landed a job as a junior press officer at a prestigious Italian fashion brand. As he embarked on his exciting new career, he began sharing his adventures on social media. His Instagram account quickly gained popularity, attracting an audience of over 50,000 followers.

His boss discovered Gianni's growing online influence and recognized its potential. Impressed by his ability to engage with an audience, Gianni was promoted to a senior position within the company. His boss even suggested a plan for Gianni to collaborate with other influencers and showcase outfits before they hit the stores. This strategy greatly boosted the brand's sales and left everyone involved thrilled with the results.

Gianni's online presence caught the attention of travel brands, who saw a perfect opportunity to collaborate with him. Combining his passion for travel with his current job seemed like a dream come true. Eventually, Gianni was offered a different position that allowed him to travel the world as a brand ambassador and head of social media. This proved to be a tremendous success, as he earned money by partnering with other brands and posting about their products. His healthy lifestyle and fitness journey also made him a sought-after expert, leading to features in renowned publications like Vogue, Vanity Fair, and G.Q Gianni's popularity continued to rise, and he enjoyed the luxury of a lavish lifestyle, complete with a glamorous personal trainer, Francesco. Francesco drives a Porsche and loves fancy watches.

For many years, Gianni thrived, giving Ted talks and attending exclusive parties, collaborating with numerous companies and earning substantial amounts of money. He even purchased a grand house in Tuscany and shared the renovation process online, engaging his followers with step-by-step updates and showcasing furniture brands.

Eventually, Gianni decided to leave his day job and focus solely on endorsement deals. He started offering online courses, recording podcasts from his home studio, and hosting, pay exclusive-per-view live Q&A sessions for his subscribers. While Gianni received many tempting offers of a sexual nature, he always declined. However, one evening, after consuming a few drinks, he engaged in a private, sexually explicit Q&A session with a follower named Franco89. This opened the door to more explicit conversations and eventually led Gianni to create a secret OnlyFans account. There, he redirected fans who desired sexually oriented content, including Franco89.

FitFrank, who Gianni initially didn't recognize, messaged him one day. Their conversations quickly evolved, and they eventually engaged in virtual intimate encounters. Although Gianni had his reservations, FitFrank eventually persuaded him to participate in paid jerk-off sessions, which they conducted weekly.

Amidst his immense success, Gianni received fan mail, flowers, and outfits from well-known brands. Due to his excellent physique, he could easily request any outfit he desired. One day, he found a box of cupcakes and received message a from FitFrank insinuating that he knew about the cupcakes. Initially Gianni dismissed, it, assuming it was a coincidence. However, after tasting and enjoying the cupcakes during one of his live sessions, FitFrank sent him a message, revealing that he was aware of Gianni’s indulgence. Intrigued, Gianni engaged in a conversation with FitFrank, who made an unusual offer: €100 for each cupcake Gianni ate during a live session. Although Gianni hesitated at first, FitFrank increased the offer to €1000 for two live eating sessions per month. Succumbing to the allure of the lucrative deal, Gianni agreed to indulge himself weekly.

Gianni's popularity continued to soar, and endorsement offers poured in, particularly for swimwear. Whenever he posted about a particular brand, it sold out immediately. His fit body, dedication to fitness, and healthy eating habits had transformed him into a lifestyle specialist, attracting media attention from magazines such as Vogue, Vanity Fair, and GQ.

However, as Gianni's workload increased, he found less time for travel and decided to reduce his trips. Instead, he focused on providing online courses and hosting events exclusively in Italy. He also introduced paid subscriptions for his live Q&A sessions, further boosting his income.

Despite his success, Gianni couldn't help but notice his clothes becoming tighter. Concerned about his appearance, he decided to end his deal with FitFrank and ignored his messages. However, FitFrank responded by sending cupcakes every morning, tempting Gianni to continue their arrangement. Eventually, FitFrank offered even more money, €1000 per cake. Gianni decided to extend the deal for one more month.

The cakes became larger and more challenging to consume, but Gianni managed to complete each one. FitFrank saw Gianni's dedication and increased the offer to €5000 per month after the last cake. Although the cakes grew in size, Gianni determination remained unwavering.

Despite his success, Gianni's lifestyle began to take a toll on his physique. Personal trainer Francesco expressed concern and suggested a diet to help Gianni lose weight. Francesco feared that having a visibly overweight ambassador would harm his own reputation. Gianni understood the need for change and revealed his to followers that he had gained weight during a renovation project. He created a weight loss program with Francesco for his fans, which received a positive response during the pre-sale phase.

However, Gianni's weight gain continued, exacerbated by his ongoing indulgence in FitFrank's cakes and cupcakes. Francesco confronted Gianni during a live session, shocked by his additional weight gain. Promising to do better, Gianni continued his collaboration with Francesco, now paying for the fitness program.

After two weeks, Gianni realized that his efforts were futile, and he had only gained more weight. Francesco, furious with Gianni's lack of progress, demanded that he publicly announce the end of their collaboration or face legal consequences. Gianni reluctantly complied, confessing to his followers that he was too weak to continue the program. He stepped on the scale and broke down in tears at realization that he the had gained a significant amount of weight.

Confused and desperate, Gianni questioned why he had continued the eating sessions despite having no financial need. Was it simply for attention? FitFrank, aware of Gianni's struggles, initiated a deep conversation that evening, forming a strong connection between them.

As Gianni's weight continued to increase due to FitFrank's challenges and his own overulindgence, he embarked on a four-week, all-inclusive trip to various resorts. The luxurious accommodations offered exquisite indulgences, leaving little time for exercise and fitness. He found himself in a predicament when thewear swim brands he had collaborated with realized his significant weight gain, causing them to distance themselves from him. Gianni grew about anxious his future and impact the his weight gain would have on his career.

During this uncertain time, FitFrank remained a constant presence, sending messages and offering support. Feeling a sense of care and connection, Gianni appreciated FitFrank's attention. They grew closer, building a relationship that felt as though they had known each other for years.

To salvage his career, Gianni had to lose weight, but the temptation of indulgent food and alcohol endorsements made it difficult to stick to his diet. In a desperate move, he accepted a deal with a champagne brand to become their brand ambassador for a year. This involved a week-long trip to a champagne mansion to sample the entire range and create content. The trip consisted of lavish tastings and extravagant meals, leaving Gianni hungover and on the brink of failure. He returned home feeling exhausted and defeated.

Gianni's weight became a source of worry, both for himself and the brands he had collaborated with. FitFrank continued to send him chocolates, and Gianni, feeling discouraged, started eating them. When FitFrank reached out, Gianni confessed his struggles, and their conversation became progressively intimate. However, during one chat, a technical glitch revealed FitFrank's identity, leaving Gianni enraged.

Confronting Francesco at the gym, Gianni discovered his personal trainer's secret life as a creator of weight gain content. Francesco had been secretly livestreaming and profiting from Gianni's weight gain journey, while driving an extravagant lifestyle. Francesco confessed to making over €450,000 from donations by viewers fascinated with Gianni's transformation.

Feeling betrayed by Francesco, Gianni hatched a plan to regain control. He proposed a new arrangement to FitFrank, demanding a majority of the revenue, FitFrank's authentic appearance and FitFrank joins in on food challenges. If FitFrank refused, Gianni threatened to expose him to his clients. Relantly, Francesco agreed, realizing that he had little choice if he wanted to maintain his luxurious lifestyle.

Together, Gianni and FitFrank continued their indulgent food challenges, delighting their followers with their ever-expanding physiques. FitFrank's following and body grew, and their loyal fans paid top dollar for their content. The money poured in, but Gianni couldn't help but wonder if his obsession with food and attention had gone too far. And how far will he go?

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction

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theresattrpgforthat · 8 months

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Any TTRPGs where 'Genderfuckery' (i.e. playing around with gender in some form - trans characters, nb characters, in-game genderbending, crossdressing, etc etc - anything that 'fucks around' with gender and conventional ideas of gender) is a central mechanic or thematic element in some form?

Heaven is Here, by Rae Nedjadi.

This is a game that is deeply stepped in magical surrealism, it is desperately mundane, it is laughter in a coffee shop, and sacrifices made to the moon. It is friendship bound up in art, in gender, and what it means to be human.

This game uses the Belonging Outside Belonging system, which encourages collaborative storytelling with simple rules. You are artists, people made of many layers caught up in entanglements with one another. You are magical beings, because to create art is to create magic. Art is expression and creation, tied intimately with who you are and who you wish to be. Discover what inspires you and what holds you back. What does your art mean to you? How do you feel about the art others create? What new forms of inspiration will you uncover?

Rae describes gender in this game as ever shifting. As artists, your gender is connected to your art and what you love. It is a game about big questions in mundane scenarios, called Moments. Currently there are four playbooks and four Moments, as the game is still in development, so it is likely best experienced in a smaller group.

Giant Metal Bodies, by TheGiftofGabes.

You have a Giant Metal Body. If you run out of juice, you’ll probably die, but you might just flee to die another day. If you survive at the end of your mission, it doesn’t matter. The war will continue to try and kill you another time. If you die, it doesn’t matter. The war doesn’t care about your sacrifice.

Giant Metal Bodies is a game about what it means to be a Giant Metal Body in a war much bigger than you, that doesn't care about you, and which will destroy you no matter what.

I know that there’s been a lot of talk about trans allegories in mech stories, so this game feels like a very fitting way to talk about the trans experience using tragic themes. It was also submitted to the Trans Fucking Rage Jam on Itch a year or so back, which likely has a number of submissions that you might find interesting!

Expanse, by TheTrueToad.

Expanse" is a short solo-RPG made for pondering and expressing one's own gender. Create an expansive map of values, colors, and textures for the landscape of your gender.

I love the example aspects that you can choose from in this game. You have your traditional genders, such as Masculine, Feminine, and Androgynous, but you also have options such as Purple, Timid, Voidlike and Witty. You will map out a landscape that represents your gender by drawing from a regular deck of playing cards, and reading the associated prompts. Each house in the deck responds to a different categories of aspects. I definitely am interested in how this game can provide alternate ways to think about gender; and you can create a lovely map along the way!

This game was made for the Trans Joy Jam, the counterpart for the Trans Rage Jam.

Elf Genders, by Lucian Kahn.

Elf Genders is a worldbuilding tool for creating your own new systems of fantasy genders. Most humans are women, men, or nonbinary, but maybe elves are… something else? Elf Genders helps you decide what!

This is not an rpg, but if you want to fuck with the genders of your fantasy game, this is a great place to start. This is a game session (or sessions, if you get really into it) to help you establish a setting and lore details of your elven folk, and what gender means for an elf. If you or your game group already have a game in mind, this is definitely worth looking at.

AetherNet, by Legendary Vermin.

The Internet as we know it ceased to exist after The Incursion, and in its place the sprawling Virtual Hyperreality of the Æthernet stretches horrible and festering in every direction. Plumb its depths in search of riches, miracles and ruins that the keepers of the mundane world will pay heartily for, just beware of the Daemons and UNGODS waiting for you in its depths, hoping to bend and shape your flesh to their own ends.

Make a character in seconds, ruin them for hours. The Player Book contains the minimum essential rules and setting information, and the Ref's Handbook fills in the other rules and tables you need to run the game.

The game itself takes place in a dystopian cyberpunk future where magic and technology are connected - and dangerous. There is actually a section in AetherNet titled “Genders” that asks you to roll 1d2 (or flip a coin) and roll a d6. This will give you one out of 12 options for your gender, which include options such as “a daemon bound you into a pact” or “once, you were a ship or space station and its crew”. Your Gender can also be changed or corrupted as you play, gaining qualities such as “without fear” or “too persuasive.” This is the most wild example of gender I’ve seen in a game so far, and I definitely recommend you check it out.

Sleepaway, by Possum Creek Games.

Sleepaway gives us long hazy days, chilled summer nights, kids screaming and chasing fireflies, crackling campfires, and a gaunt, cruel monstrosity forever hiding just out of sight, always asking, “What do you do next?”

In Sleepaway, you play as a group of camp counselors at a not-so-ordinary summer camp besieged by a strange and ominous cryptid, the monstrous Lindworm. It is a GMless horror game for 3-6 players, which uses the Belonging Outside Belonging system created by Avery Alder and Ben Rosenbaum. In it, players take control of not only their characters (which include archetypes like the Lifeguard, the Songleader, the Crafter, or the Athlete) but also the world around them, picking up Setting Elements to react to their friend's decisions. As the game goes on, the players also invite the Lindworm to play with them, causing horrific events to callously occur throughout the place space.

A Belonging Outside Belonging game, Sleepaway is a game that can be played without a GM, because each player will pick up a setting element sheet and be responsible for it throughout game play. This is the closest to what I was looking for when it came to gender, because your characters have gender options such as “A Robin,” and “A Particular Colour.” The game itself is a great setting to explore danger and liminal spaces, as summer camps are excellent places for self-discovery, as they take place away from your typical surroundings. Also, Possum Creek Games has a well-deserved reputation for making games that play well and make you feel something. You should definitely check it out.

Games I've Recommended in the Past

Women are Werewolves, by 9th Level Games.

Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games.

Blood Feud, by Bläckfisk Publishing.

Gay Crime, Sapphics Against Capital, by Evey Lockhart.

Here, There Be Monsters! by wendi yu.

Dream Askew / Dream Apart, by Buried Without Ceremony.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #gender

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alienssstufff · 8 months

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idk if u talked abt it b4 but i would LOVE to know why u see autumn as 3L (and i assume LL as winter - DL as spring - LimL as summer) tho i 100% see already purely from aesthetic why thatd be the case itd be so so cool to see a more in depth opinion?? it does fit so well in with the 2 arcs being 3L into LL & DL into LimL as autumn into winter then starting as a new arc of spring into summer?? literally perfect i feel??

[ context ] nooo I never have! I'd love to!

The Life Series thematically happens cycles upon cycles within itself. Each season is like a different part of a year like seasons ending on the very climatic Limited Life as its Summer.

[AUTUMN 3RD LIFE] While there aren't many interesting biomes in 3L that give it away, it's more about the progression of the Beginning as players are taken out of the comfort of their previous lives and all social constructs are thrown out the window and into the deep end. People make pretty bases, feel hesitant to steal, and build monopolies in a world that virtually does not have a currency - all because these are things the Hermits and Empires alike have been doing prior to the Life Series. It's Autumn because it's a learning experience, a transition period as the players grow more accustomed to these new customs in preparation for the extreme.

[WINTER LAST LIFE] HONESTLY the one I'm glad we all agree on, that server is SO #wintercore with so many horror elements. Deeeep alpine forests, winding rivers, tall snowy mountains it got all of them! The perfect winter sequel to 3rd Life and the one where the players (after being a part of 3L) are put the most on edge with the levels of betrayal and distrust the season had going on with the Bogeyman mechanic. People straight up start HUNTING each other for sport it's an example of the most dire of situations and I LOVE IT!

(putting the other 2 under the cut before it gets too long)

[SPRING DOUBLE LIFE] Much kinder than Last Life congratulations you have made it through the winter. Double Life is a season centred on relationships, about all the different types of love between players - if you live in the Northern Hemisphere spring happens during valentines. New bonds like in Spring are made here and old ones resurface and/or are broken in history of the previous seasons. Double Life is kind of like 3rd Life in the sense that people's relationships, and how they go about them are in influence to things that have happened in the past (previous seasons).

[SUMMER LIMITED LIFE] The final season of the First Cycle. The server has a WARM OCEAN biome. I really do wish mojang developed their beaches or the tropics better Limited Life would have been perfect with palm trees. I built a bit on the Limited Life world HERE and HERE It's about teamwork, fun and games - the tone Limited Life has in comparison to Last Life is its polar opposite in the way people trust in each other so much. Even the whole meaning of what it means to be Bogeyman here is flipped on its head it's treated as a gift. It comes perfectly after Double Life as the soulmates made in there (eg Boatboys, Ranchers, etc) continue from here. If anything it reminds me of the summer break before everyone gets back to work (Secret Life).

Side note: Secret Life Bit of a weird one honestly. It to me is the strangest out of the 5 like yeah it COULD be spring aesthetically because of the cherry trees, but it could also be autumn (thus the new cycle), the way it is handled so far is reminiscent of how things were in 3rd Life with everyone being so careful of their lives. Waiting for more sessions to come out to build more on this :]

HWWHWH anyway hope that makes sense ty for letting me talk about the Life Seasons >w<

#ask stufff #stufff rambles #character concept stufff #life series #trafficblr #i could have explained the DL one better i feel theres more to it with spring i know in my heart

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transmutationisms · 9 months

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Wish I hadn't started following you right before beginning my masters now I'm in TA training sessions and I'm like..... wait does this institution suck ass actually. this institution was supposed to be my new option for paying rent and feeding myself!!!!! Fuck!!

hi there. i'm currently a phd candidate so, the call is coming from inside the house. i will cut to the chase and just tell you the answer is Yes the institution does suck ass actually. the university is not your friend, any more than any employer ever is. universities exist to restrict access to knowledge and the degrees they grant are class-producing as well as being part of a larger system of colonialist knowledge extraction. these, similar, & further critiques apply to virtually all institutions providing means of 'earning a living' & to capitalist production & labour generally. clearly i think there are reasons pursuing a degree might make sense for certain purposes, or else i wouldn't be where i am, but i also think if you're going to be in academia in any capacity you should be clear-sighted about what you're there to do, and what the institution is for on a structural level as well as how it operates in its employer-employee relationship with you. i think an insidious temptation as a figure of (limited) authority in the academy is to accede to the idea that you are some kind of sage of enlightenment, performing noble cerebral work to benefit society. down this intellectual road lies saviour complexes, reactionary politics, justifications for class stratification, and confusion of the simple fact that you are a person working a job and your work should be analysed on those terms, same as any other work. keeping a handle on a materialist analysis of the university, the professoriat, your own class position, and that of your students will help you decide what you want from this institution and how you want or don't want to fit into its larger social and political function.

#academia

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adbros · 9 months

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30 ways to make real; money from home

Making money online from the comfort of your home has become increasingly accessible with the growth of the internet and digital technologies. In 2023, there are numerous realistic ways to earn money online. Here are 30 ideas to get you started:

1. Freelance Writing: Offer your writing skills on platforms like Upwork or Freelancer to create blog posts, articles, or website content.

2. Content Creation: Start a YouTube channel, podcast, or blog to share your expertise or passion and monetize through ads, sponsorships, and affiliate marketing.

3. Online Surveys and Market Research: Participate in online surveys and market research studies with platforms like Swagbucks or Survey Junkie.

4. Remote Customer Service: Work as a remote customer service representative for companies like Amazon or Apple.

5. Online Tutoring: Teach subjects you're knowledgeable in on platforms like VIPKid or Chegg Tutors.

6. E-commerce: Start an online store using platforms like Shopify, Etsy, or eBay to sell products.

7. Affiliate Marketing: Promote products or services on your blog or social media and earn commissions for sales made through your referral links.

8. Online Courses: Create and sell online courses on platforms like Udemy or Teachable.

9. Remote Data Entry: Find remote data entry jobs on websites like Clickworker or Remote.co.

10. Virtual Assistance: Offer administrative support services to businesses as a virtual assistant.

11. Graphic Design: Use your graphic design skills to create logos, graphics, or websites for clients on platforms like Fiverr.

12. Stock Photography: Sell your photos on stock photography websites like Shutterstock or Adobe Stock.

13. App Development: Develop and sell mobile apps or offer app development services.

14. Social Media Management: Manage social media accounts for businesses looking to enhance their online presence.

15. Dropshipping: Start an e-commerce business without holding inventory by dropshipping products.

16. Online Consultations: Offer consulting services in your area of expertise through video calls.

17. Online Surplus Sales: Sell unused items or collectibles on platforms like eBay or Facebook Marketplace.

18. Online Fitness Coaching: Become an online fitness coach and offer workout plans and guidance.

19. Virtual Events: Host webinars, workshops, or conferences on topics you're knowledgeable about.

20. Podcast Production: Offer podcast editing, production, or consulting services.

21. Remote Transcription: Transcribe audio and video files for clients.

22. Online Translation: Offer translation services if you're proficient in multiple languages.

23. Affiliate Blogging: Create a niche blog with affiliate marketing as the primary revenue source.

24. Online Art Sales: Sell your artwork, crafts, or digital art on platforms like Etsy or Redbubble.

25. Remote Bookkeeping: Offer bookkeeping services for small businesses from home.

26. Digital Marketing: Provide digital marketing services like SEO, PPC, or social media management.

27. Online Gaming: Stream your gaming sessions on platforms like Twitch and monetize through ads and donations.

28. Virtual Assistant Coaching: If you have experience as a VA, offer coaching services to aspiring virtual assistants.

29. Online Research: Conduct research for businesses or individuals in need of specific information.

30. Online Real Estate: Invest in virtual real estate, such as domain names or digital properties, and sell them for a profit.

Remember that success in making money online often requires dedication, patience, and the ability to adapt to changing trends. It's essential to research and choose the opportunities that align with your skills, interests, and long-term goals.

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canonicallyobserving911 · 1 year

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Buck & Eddie: Buck’s therapy uniform vs. his date clothes

Full disclosure: Before the sneak peek scene of Buck and Natalia was released over the weekend, I completed a post that included my speculation of Buck attempting to process the fact that he died with Natalia (linked here) and I based my speculation on the wording that was included in the original synopsis regarding the nature of their encounter. But for me the confusion about his intentions with her happened over the course of two days when 9-1-1 kept changing the wording of the 6x15 synopsis. At first it stated he would be “attracted to” the death doula, then it changed to state he would be “considering a relationship” with her to finally on Monday morning, it was changed yet again to state she would be his “love interest”. I have some ideas regarding their reasoning for all the changes but ultimately, in my opinion they did it to throw the general audience off the trail of CANON Buddie.

Also, Natalia asking Buck out for coffee was a callback to the way all the other women previously pursued him and that made it seem like she wanted to date him. Since their whole conversation wasn’t included in the episode, there’s no way to know for sure if she was in fact flirting with him or if she was trying to get information from him that would help her professionally. Either way, until she reappears in 6x17 “Love is in the Air”, it’s difficult to speculate especially without having more context.

_________________

When the sneak peek of Buck and Natalia’s scene at the live funeral from 6x15 “Death and Taxes” was released, I watched it and listened to the things Buck specifically said to her to determine if he was flirting with her or if he was “attracted to” the fact that she deals with death on a regular basis along with the fact that her job is to help her clients accept it. Buck died for three minutes and seventeen seconds so it made narrative sense for him to seek out someone he could talk to. (He should have called Dr. Copeland but that’s another post for another day). Initially I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested in trying to get help with processing his death or if he was flirting but after the episode aired, I paid close attention to the clothes he wore on their “coffee date” and I realized they looked very familiar. After I went back to season 4 and looked at the clothing he wore to therapy, that’s when I realized, Buck probably thought she could help him with accepting his death.

Before I dive into this, I need to mention the way Buck spends a lot of money on his clothes. He’s very stylish with regards to the way he dresses and his outfits always match. It appears they fit his body (most of the time) like they are tailored for his tall and muscular frame. He usually looks good in the clothes he wears and he takes a lot of time making sure his appearance is up to par. Therefore, if he repeats an outfit or if he wears some variation of it with the same colors more than once, there’s a CANON reason for it.

Therapy Clothes

Buck has worn the same color shirts and pants whenever he’s done a therapy session with Dr. Copeland or if he discussed the fact that he was in therapy with someone. In 4x2 “Alone Together”, Maddie assumed Buck had a new girlfriend because he didn’t tell her who he was sneaking off to talk to while he was on FaceTime with her and Chimney. When his alarm went off, he left Albert talking to them, he went upstairs and proceeded to have a virtual therapy session with Dr. Copeland. He wore a pair of navy-blue pants and a rust/orange color sweater/jumper. In 4x3 “Future Tense” while he was baby proofing Maddie and Chimney’s apartment, he wore a t-shirt that was the same color as the jumper he wore in 4x2 and his pants were a dark color, i.e., black or dark blue. He wasn’t shown to be in a session that day but he did finally tell Maddie and Chimney he didn’t have a girlfriend and the person he was seeing was a therapist he chose for himself. He told Maddie he wanted to be “finer” after she showed up at the loft and he also explained how she called him sad and lonely. Then he admitted that even though he had a great life and he had people who loved him, he couldn’t trust it.

Fast forwarding to 6x15 and based on the outfit he wore on his coffee meet up or whatever it should be called with Natalia, it became clear that my initial speculation may have been correct since he wore a rust/orange color sweater and a pair of navy-blue sweatpants. The shirt was lighter in color than it was in season 4 and I think that’s because Buck’s unsure of who he is right now. He told Eddie everyone wants him to be the “old Buck” but he also said he’s changed (subtext that I will expound on in another post).

He wasn’t wearing slacks and the BTS of him and the actress who plays Natalia validates they were sweatpants since the string could be seen.

Since Buck wore what I’m going to start calling his “therapy uniform” on his coffee meet up with Natalia, it lends credence to the possibility that he went there to talk to her about the fact that he died. He was looking for answers but her motivation for wanting to meet with him is still unclear especially since the showrunner keeps pushing the “Buck’s interested in Natalia” narrative in her post-mortem interviews. But hopefully Natalia’s next appearance in 6x17 will clear things up once and for all.

Date Clothes

When Buck goes on a date, he’s always dressed to impress even if he wears a golf shirt and a pair of slacks like he did in 2x8 “Buck Actually” when he met AM for lunch, dinner or whatever (it was light outside when he arrived but it was dark while they were still talking to each other so who knows). In 4x7 “There Goes the Neighborhood” Buck wore a nice black jacket, a royal blue shirt and some black slacks on his date with Veronica. In 4x8 “Breaking Point” when he asked TK to meet him at Veronica’s for dinner, he wore a black button-down shirt, some black slacks and a black, white and gray jacket. Even the clothes he wore when he took Eddie and Chris to Equine Therapy in 5x14 “Dumb Luck” and when he and Eddie went to Marie’s grave in 6x15, appeared to be part of his “date clothes” wardrobe instead of his “therapy uniform”.

I didn’t include any of Buck’s fancy suits that he’s worn on dates because they weren’t needed to illustrate the difference between what he wears to therapy when compared with the types of clothes he wears on dates.

The point is Buck has a “therapy uniform” and he also has date clothes so if the speculation about his attire is correct then he didn’t meet Natalia with the intention of dating her, he met with her to learn more about accepting the fact that he died.

Could his intentions change, ABSOLUTELY but if the narrative remains unchanged and it’s combined with all the things that are “supposed” to happen in the last three episodes of the season, it’s unlikely he will end up in a relationship with her.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #911 speculation #911 meta #911 season 6 #911 season 6 speculation #911 s6 #911 #911 on ABC #911 abc

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littlebitsmile · 3 months

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in flames [C.L.] | Chapter IV

Only one week left before off-season is finally over - don't know how you're feeling, but I'm ready to see what this years grid is bringing along (especially when the drama pre-season hit pretty hard). Let me know what you think of this chapter and if you want to be tagged in future chapters so you never miss out!

Have fun with this one, see you next week xx

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R III ɞ────

My eyes are fixed on the screen in front of me. My hands are steady on the steering wheel, which almost feels like I'm sitting in a real car. The replica cockpit seat is a little more uncomfortable, but only because the actual sports seats are adapted to the driver's back and this one is just a makeshift one. I don't know what time it is or how long I've been driving virtual tracks in this simulator, but I'm starting to get hungry.

I usually love the days I get to spend at headquarters, but the last two weeks have been beyond strange. I don't seem to be on the same wavelength as my new team yet. Fernando has been the only buffer between us so far and hasn't provided a minute of silence.

I feel lost. Since my first days of training camp at Aston Martin, I've felt like I'm constantly having to cut myself back. It's like I've been transported back to my school days. Once or twice I've dreamed of that time - reliving exams I've completed years ago and either missed or failed.

I don't sleep well, but I'm still here every day at seven o'clock sharp in the morning to fit in a few extra training sessions in both the simulator and the gym before everyone else. Maybe I'm just not admitting to myself that it's easier if I arrive before anyone else is sitting at their desk that I need to talk to. The team seems committed, but I notice that everyone is looking at me a little skeptically. The same questions that have been floating around in the newspapers for weeks and months are open and unhindered on their faces, but I'm not actually being asked any questions.

Sometimes I miss the people from Formula 2. In every phone call with Enzo, in which he enquires about my well-being or simply wants to talk about his latest flirt, I notice how my tense shoulders slump and a laugh escapes me here and there. Then another couple of hours pass before I sneak off to the toilet on the third floor, the one that nobody ever uses because it's on the executive level, and gulp down my lunch while closing my eyes and listening to a podcast over and over again.

I tried to get along with everyone, I really did. But after they only exchanged the bare minimum of words with me in the first week, even though I was only trying to make conversation, my enthusiasm waned a little with each passing day. At some point in week two, I brought home-baked cake, which two days later stood hardened and not a bit poorer in the kitchen in the same place where I had initially placed it.

The first few tests in the simulator always ended the same way: Either with in a virtual pile of tires or so slowly that no further comment on my driving style came except an "Again." As soon as I wanted to sit down at a table in the kitchen, everyone suddenly had to get up or was at the end of their lunch break - the only one who regularly stayed seated or called me over was Fernando. But as he's already in meetings for this week's car launch, I have to endure the emotionless stares on my own.

I don't know why I can't find a rhythm. Neither in the car nor with the people around me. I wouldn't normally describe myself as shy. Especially next to Max, I'm often come across as a ray of sunshine – currently I'm feeling more like a never-ending rain cloud.

I take the last bend and step on the gas on the last straight. Then I look at my time. Faster than in the last few weeks but nowhere near Fernando's recent driving. I exhale. "The virtual setup still feels a bit strange in the right-hand bends," I say and look through the glass front to my left, behind which two colleagues are hiding who have been assigned to observation duty - probably involuntarily. All I get from both is a thumbs-up and a fake smile.

My hands find their way to the harness fasteners and free me. My legs move to stand next to the car as if of their own accord. I look towards the ceiling and blink away a few tears before making my way to my next stop. Physiotherapist here I come.

"I miss Enzo," I say after I unbuckle the training tower cables after the last repetition.

"I know, but Sarah's great. I promise," Leonardo replies as he massages my calves. Then again, massage would imply something pleasant - this is true hell. I let out a quick "ow" as he tries to massage a knot.

"I haven't met her yet, maybe I should change that. Do you happen to know when she's due to arrive?"

"Supposedly next week, but you can probably imagine that after her honeymoon she won't be too keen to be physically separated from her husband again." He bends my foot in every possible direction and at the same time tries to work my calf muscles from all sides down to the deepest layer.

"I hope she's more like you. There are already enough people here who don't like me."

Leonardo becomes quiet. I sense that he wants to say something but is holding back. I don't blame him. He has been working for Aston Martin for two years and always talks about how happy he was when he got the job offer. I don't blame him for sticking to his colleagues rather than me. But at least I can talk to him about how I'm feeling at the moment - and sometimes he even sheds some light on things.

The vibration of my cell phone snaps me out of my thoughts. I briefly consider just leaving it and answering it later, but suddenly messages come in every second and I can no longer hold back my curiosity. I stretch to my right and reach for my cell phone. Messages from Enzo.

Have you seen what Mr. Oh-so-perfect just posted?

Below screenshots of Charles Leclerc's Instagram Stories. I'm starting to laugh.

I thought he drives for Formula 1? Like, as a professional? Or is he scared now that Lewis will probably be the new number 1 and steal his spotlight? I quickly type back.

I think it's going to be good music. Have you watched his videos of him playing the piano? I think I fall in love with those hands every time.

Is it possible you can't get that guy from last week out of your head? When did you start stalking Mr. Annoying? Since when is Enzo that interested in the Ferrari driver? Have I missed something?

I'm not stalking. I'm observing. For you.

Thanks, but as long as he's not driving right in front of me on the track and pointing the red back end of his car in my face, I'm not really that interested in him.

Oh, come on! He's cute.

I always thought you had to have talent to be a musician. But nowadays it seems anyone can release new songs. Well, if he goes the way he's producing next season, I don't have much to worry about. I am thinking about that option for a second. A grid without Leclerc? That would be my dream.

You're impossible - you haven't even heard his songs.

No need, thanks :P

A smile creeps onto my lips.

"Is there a friend we don't know about?" Leonardo teases me. I reflexively lock the phone screen and throw my phone back into my bag.

"No, a good friend." I don't want to tell anyone that I'm still in contact with my previous race engineer. I'm still not sure who I can and can't trust here. "Leclerc has apparently released music."

Leonardo laughs. "He's probably trying to build up a second mainstay in case Lewis does become primary driver in 2025."

"You've heard about that too, haven't you? Awesome." I wonder how openly I can speak here, but then discard the idea because I've never been someone who doesn't completely overshare with anyone anyway. "I'm curious to see how his move to Ferrari will play out this season. And especially what it could mean for Fernando."

"Has he spoken to you about it?"

"With me? We've only known each other for what feels like two minutes, I hardly think he's going to reveal his plans to me. But to be honest, I would totally get it. I don't think Mercedes is as bad as everyone thinks."

A moment of silence. Leonardo takes a deep breath, and I almost don't notice that he starts to speak.

I continue bluntly: "On the other hand, where is Carlos going? I think it's a shame for him. So much work, so much ambition, he was the only one who could at least halfway hold a candle to my brother. But maybe Mercedes is going in a completely new direction? So many questions all buzzing around in my head and somehow I can't talk to anyone about it, so I'm sorry if I'm making you feel too tired."

"Why do you feel that way? That you can't talk to anyone, I mean."

"Difficult subject. But it's been on my mind for a while. Both the Lewis to Ferrari issue and the fact that I'm always being ignored here."

"Emma, can I ask you an honest question?" Leonardo stops massaging my thighs and I sit up. He's looked so tense since our session started - maybe I should suggest he books a massage with his physiotherapist.

"Are you planning to go to Mercedes?"

Silence. I know for a fact that my expression is slipping, and a furrow is forming between my eyebrows. My eyebrows rise as if of their own accord and a neutral "What?" slips past my lips.

"If Toto Wolff called you tomorrow and asked if you would consider driving for Mercedes next year - would you...would you at least think about it?" Now Leonardo looks me in the eye with a serious expression. I shake my head and laugh.

"As if they would ask me."

"Would you?" he asks again with emphasis.

"I guess that's what it comes down to. If my team doesn't want me here, and, no offense, that's the impression I'm getting right now, why wouldn't I move to a structure where they obviously want me?" I haven't thought about the question that much myself - simply because the announcement of Lewis Hamilton's move to Ferrari only became public a week ago and caused quite a stir. I can well imagine that there are some drivers who are keen on the Mercedes seat.

Leonardo thinks about his next words, I can see it on his face. "My question is whether this is simply a stepping stone for you."

My heart stops with this question. I shake my head vigorously. "Oh my God, no, never. I was... I was so happy when it was decided that I could be part of your team. I can learn so much from Fernando and I think it will be good for me to move outside my comfort zone. My previous team was with me for some time, so a breath of fresh air is never a bad thing. At least I think so. If I had hoped for a better deal...", I raise both my hands and bend my index and middle fingers to make quotation marks, "...I would only have had to wait another year. Red Bull kept ringing my doorbell, but I didn't want to be associated with Max all the time. That's why I'm here."

Leonardo exhales, visibly relieved. "Try to be patient with the others. Everyone's been a bit tense since Lewis' transfer was announced, especially with Fernando. Now, everyone is trying to assess you. Whether you take after your father or Max or..."

"...or whether I have my own quirks? I promise, I have them." Suddenly it all makes sense. If the team can't be sure if I'll even be here when they're building the car for next year, then it's only logical not to invest 100% of their energy in something that's already got one foot out the door.

I turn to him and hold out my wrists. He reaches behind him and then presses two tennis balls into my hand - coordination training. I exhale in annoyance.

"If you just be yourself during pre-season testing, everyone will realize that you're an asset to us. I promise." I smile. Then I think of the heat in Bahrain, the left and right turns and the feeling of sitting in our new car for the first time. The sizzling feeling in the air. The smiles, the people, the anticipation. That really weird feeling in my fingers, my breath patterns and my heartbeat, when the first few laps start to feel less overwhelming. This thought puts a smile on my face for the rest of the week that not even the lunch breaks in the women's toilet can wipe away.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter III] [Chapter V (in progress)] ɞ────

Tags: @cmleitora

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #slow burn #f1 imagine #haters to lovers

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pjsk-story-summaries · 14 days

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BURN MY SOUL Event Story Summary

TL;DR: Following the fallout of the battle with Taiga, Vivid Street has lost it's fire. In order to relight it, Ken has decided to take Vivid BAD SQUAD to high-level events outside of the town to build skill while assigning each member and individual task. Akito's was to "relight the fire of the town" with his determination and singing.

Ken begins individual singing training with Akito. He believes the thing holding Akito back is the lack of heart he's putting into his voice. However, Akito can't figure out what that ultimately means, never mind putting it into music. They continue to practice, with little progress.

Ken decides to take Akito out on a drive to relax. They reminisce on their first meeting and how far Akito's come since then. He's met so many people since then, too. Ken asks Akito to never forget "that feeling" when he smiles over the memory.

The next day, Akito decides to ask the Virtual Singers what he meant. Luka challenges him to a battle with the ultimate goal of drawing out his feelings. MEIKO realizes Akito's greatest strength is also his greatest flaw. In order to keep moving forward, his determination has led him to bottle up his emotion. All Akito needs to do is let it out. Akito realizes the same soon after, but before he can sing again, Luka stops him. She wants him to show Ken, not her.

Akito manages to properly sing from his heart during his next session. He takes all the emotions from his hero's song, the pain and love, and proves the fire Ken had lit in him will burn strong enough to surpass him.

Some time later, Akito performs solo on Vivid Street. He declares that Vivid BAD SQUAD's next event will be the one to surpass RAD WEEKEND. The intense improvement in his voice ultimately rekindles the fire of Vivid Street and motivates Mita to re-join the team.

Fan translation (lozy bug) / Song (CR詠ZY) 2DMV

Chapter 1: Mita walks the alleys of Vivid street in a depressive funk. He, nor any of the other former allies of Vivid BAD SQUAD, have performed since that fight with Taiga. WEEKEND GARAGE has been mysteriously closed, too. Rumor has it that Vivid BAD SQUAD has disbanded; however, neither Mita nor the Crawl Green owner believe that can be true. The owner does suspect, though, that they've given up on RAD WEEKEND. Without their fire, Vivid Street as a whole has been emptier. Mita doesn't think he has any right to try and re-light it.

Akito sets up a mic down the street.

Chapter 2: The events immediately following On Your Feet are shown. Ken asks what an event that surpasses RAD WEEKEND needs. Now knowing the true feelings behind the event, they've realized it's more than sheer strength. In order to reawaken the passion of the town, Ken decides to take Vivid BAD SQUAD to high-level events outside Vivid Street for practice on top of giving them individual assignments.

Akito's role is to "light a fire in the audience". His determination to crawl up from the most hopeless of situations make him the perfect fit for this role. It has to be just Akito; they should save their group performance for the real thing.

Chapter 3: Some time passes forward. Vivid BAD SQUAD continues to compete in high-caliber events outside Vivid Street. Though they still have a long way to go, they manage to succeed still. After a particularly tough event, An and Kohane decide to take a nap while they wait for Ken and the car. Akito convinces Toya to rest, too.

Ken arrives soon after, so they chat. Ken believes Akito's current drive to get better and better is the thing holding him back most. He wants him to loosen up. Akito's not sure how, so Ken offers to do individual lessons with him. Akito accepts immediately.

Chapter 4: Everyone arrives back at WEEKEND GARAGE. Kohane, An, and Toya chat about their own struggles with their (currently unkown) assignments. An's not surprised about Akito and Ken's sessions- she's noticed her dad signing more recently.

Ken and Akito begin their first session. Akito and Ken will take turns singing at each other to learn. Akito does well, but still has too much tension. Ken's song is powerful yet calm, something Akito believes is evidence of countless years of practice. Akito tries again.

Ken cuts practice off when Akito starts struggling to breathe. Though he keeps trying, he still doesn't understand how to loosen up, nor the difference between what it means to sing with feelings versus from the heart.

Chapter 5: Ken ends another practice by asking Akito to go out on a drive with him. They stop in an alley for a drink. Akito wonders if he really can afford to relax like this with so much work to do.

Ken reminisces on their first meeting. He had found Akito trying not to cry on a street corner after a rough event. Akito has always been the type to keep climbing through the mud no matter what. Through that journey, he's meet Toya, the Vivids, Mita, Arata, EVER, and so many more. This makes Akito smile softly. Ken flicks Akito's head and tells him to never forget "that feeling": Akito's already found everything he needs; he just needs to realize it.

The next day, Akito heads over to SEKAI to talk. Luka asks about the live houses they've been going to. Akito decides to ask for advice over what Ken wants him to do. Luka has him sing. Though MEIKO and Len think he's gotten a lot better, Luka thinks there's feelings he's not putting into his songs. She decides to do a singing relay with him to show what she means.

Chapter 6: Luka ends up turning it into a battle with Len and MEIKO as judges. Luka goes first with the song she'd sang when they all went camping together. She went with the song Akito had sung when he went up against shepherd next. Luka challenges Akito to return with everything he's feeling now.

MEIKO realized her songs were chosen to loosen up his feelings. Though Akito's strength is his determination, it comes at the cost of bottling up everything else in the name of moving forwards. It likely hadn't worked with Ken because of how much Akito idolizes him.

Akito finally realizes what everyone's been trying to tell him. However, before he can let it out, Luka stops him. She wants Akito to go throw it all out to Ken.

Chapter 7: Akito and Ken start their next practice. Ken goes first this time. Akito takes in all the feelings from the song to light his own fire, the one initially lit by Ken. Then, Akito throws it all back in his own song. Ken follows with a song from RAD WEEKEND. Though it makes Akito tremble at first, Akito takes all the pain of loss and happiness of partnership and puts it into his own voice. He wants Ken to see the fire he'd lit burn bright enough to surpass him. Ken praises him.

A few weeks later, Vivid BAD SQUAD begins their comeback. They send out Akito for his solo performance.

Chapter 8: The story jumps back to the present day. Akito notices Mita in the crowd before addressing the rumors over Vivid BAD SQUAD's disappearance. He reaffirms their intention to surpass RAD WEEKEND and sings. Everyone is shocked to hear the intense change in Akito's voice.

Mita reflects on Akito. Back when he'd started, he was laughed off as nobody special. However, through all his hard work, everyone grew to appreciate his voice. Mita believes he doesn't have the guts to be like that. Still, listening to Akito's song, he doesn't want to give up just yet.

At the end of his performance, Akito declares Vivid BAD SQUAD's next event will be the one to surpass RAD WEEKEND. They will show this street a new legend. He asks Vivid Street to follow them there.

Though Mita wants to, he doesn't want to drag them down with his lack of resolve. The owner of Crawl Green asks if that's really what he wants to be. Mita decides to chase down Akito and beg to sing with them again. Akito asks if he has the guts to see this all the way though. Mita decides he'll never run away again. Akito smiles and accepts him back.

Back at WEEKEND GARAGE, the rest of Vivid BAD SQUAD formally accept Mita back to the team. Ken has them peek outside, where, after Akito's performance, people begin to genuinely believe they might be able to pull this event off. Now, the real battle begins.

#vivid bad squad #unit story #shinonome akito #azusawa kohane #shiraishi an #aoyagi toya #shiraishi ken #mita kotaro #vbs meiko #vbs luka #vbs len

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mantrabay · 1 month

Text

Far Beyond Hereafter

Team leader Renee peered out

of her faux gold window around a pulsing Friday noon.

“Almost like we’re puppets of each other down there.

Maybe everywhere?”

Albert, her partner and co-worker were apt to look down on the buzz where their joint venture, their central office, was located.

Quite often hoards of people of all age groups hung out, shrieked with joy, abandon, near the hazy plume cafe.

They were snacking and sharing purchases.

There was rainbow signage to the left of this group promoting all the companies within Renee, and Albert’s brief.

The name of their company was Hereafter Unlimited.

Close and “trustworthy” friends formed this postgraduate 7 person cluster which later evolved into quite a

mind-bogglingly complex concern.

Hair-raising hubs were hatched.

Geniuses one and all created one matrix after another of sequential self-financing companies.

Ideas among them spread like avalanches.

Songs and puns were sung.

They had “flames” or “wildfire” intensity at their fingertips.

They were at the mercy of their own brilliance.

Their aim was to bring countryside joys into every nook and cranny in their chosen capital.

There were bookstores, clubs, restaurants and other outlets named after the multifaceted rustic charms that obsessed them.

Each outlet had a communal dining area to draw in clientele.

The underlying idea behind all these shops, stores, stations

was to have a magnetic pull.

Havens, an escape hatch that would leave an out of this world impression on the visitor.

From energetic background music to kaleidoscopic screens, to elaborately sculpted tables, mahogany tint chairs, azure blue halo moon menus, kid zones in high jinx.

Cascade after cascade of hue swirls in tandem with jubilant dance trope very much in evidence.

A magic merry go round motif underpinned each inventive hub.

Once savoured, never forgotten.

Festivity a frequent festoon, mouth watering smorgasbord without rein running riot.

The element of surprise, key and kernel to atmospheres that thrived on visionary continuum.

Brains in this group were graded according to a binary system.

1 winner 0 as in loser.

A hypnotic mantra often -

“Winner, loser, hopeless chooser.”

There were even signs such as a straight finger for 1 or orb like finger sign for loser.

One might wonder aloud if this clique with their uncanny gestures would fit in anywhere else except this setting of their choice.

Hazy plume, rainbow eucalyptus, sylvan zephyr, amber leaf cascade,

lambent shroud, halcyon xanadu, wonder world cocoon, among the zany names they had thought of.

The staff each had nicknames linked to the above enterprises.

The brainstorming sessions they had had no drama or plot could “match.”

“Often have the feeling we are pawns to our ideas.”

Amber leaf sighed.

Lambent :

“This place is “dead on” for the wrong reason.

Smart is always in season.”

Lambent nodding to his “imaginary” sidekick “Shadow”

that seemed glued to his desk.

After all, they were used to that sort of thing as innovative university students.

This unusual alliance though city based had links to different areas.

But nothing would daunt this oddball eccentric clique and their very imaginative and oft bizarre aims.

They were nothing if not colorful.

They had this impressive office garnished with wallpaper having pictures of their various businesses and the names associated with them.

This franchise had been in existence now for over 5 years.

It was coping to an extent but there was an underlying desire to go beyond that.

A glorified high tek office routine secretly horrified everyone.

Lambent shroud, ICloud expert in the group was perhaps the zaniest of them all.

He had a fetish about hazes and how the term could be used.

Haze was his buzzword and

of course his very own in the ether mate.

He had a virtual sidekick called “Shadow.”

They used to speak to each other in rhymes.

“Hi there, going nowhere shadow.

I’m really stuck. Yuck!”

The other members of the group would tease Lambent Shroud.

They’d speak in groans n puns too.

You’d sense lambent was a little uncomfortable with it all.

The other members of this amazing group were all tall, had numerous quirks, and spoke with crystal clear clarity.

They stood out even when alone.

Their high IQ, articulacy, and physical presence were obvious requirements for this enterprise.

They were constantly with each other hatching plans.

But Lambent may have had a begrudging “one who leads” complex.

But was the cordiality apparent and only for appearances?

Team leader Renee is Hazy and Albert is Rainbow.

The brain sessions were more often than not impromptu.

Hazy, Halcyon and Amber would seem like cerebral archers the way they bounced informal sessions off each other.

The other pairs, bright spark subgroups would have these on the spot conventions.

“Sparks would fly.

High IQ flashes sky high.

We never ever say die.”

Eerie notion, pie in the sky.”

The smart seven chipping in one by one generating a certain heat.

Even fleeting cabals.

Their brain cliques they nicknamed “Bouncers,”

Or “Pools.”

“Blessing and a boon. Under a shimmering moon. You’ll be lifting trophies soon.”

Lambent the awkward rhymer.

Wonder world had a strained crease on his face.

“Crackpot scheme, halbaked dream, eccentric team.”

In reply.

And so the banter used to go until someone ran out of ripostes.

There were daily meetings also on security updates devised by the team.

But there was much nod and wink, subterfuge.

Amber Leaf the accountant controlled the cash flow, dividends, “watertight insurance,” wages, general outlay.

But one got the impression that there was something afoot.

Amber and sylvan nudged;

“Should we rhyme as we speak or maybe tweak til next week.

Isn’t Lambent leaning a lot on his Shadow.

The Alter Ego.”

Who is this Shadow to begin with Amber pried?

An umbrella term!

A watchful eye was maintained.

This most unusual group of mental giants were so astute that they crossed checked each others scheduling and tasks.

It all seemed so foolproof.

Turnover was quite considerable and there were really no grounds for complaint at any point.

But despite the cliques they could anticipate future trends which made sense but by the same token was spooky.

Betimes who actually did what with whom had a blurred demarcation.

When you have such active brain cells, another pseudonym for the catalyst co-op you might be forgiven for thinking at times it might seem monotonous.

“ Heck! What kind of service is this?

Fly in my soup. And that fish is off! And that’s not all.”

Sylvan Zephyr the ambassador was entrusted to diffuse awkward clients.

Shrieking and clamoring, heated exchanges over the phone subside after a protracted row.

One wonders why

Lambent Shroud had this uncanny smirk and one wonders at this stage why?

The wiles of his smiles were like a form of contagion in the region.

A comic contagion if you will was never far from the surface.

“I’ve just had this idea. We could have a different decor.

Like stick on flourishes.”

Halcyon Xanadu peeped.

Once again there’ we’re nods, some almost quasi-religious.

This may seem strange.

Another shuffle, cabal.

Lambent Shroud when not spinning joke shop rhymes, chatting with his shadow might suddenly burst into paroxysms of disdain.

Despite the cerebral nature of this undertaking each member of this esoteric business cult had their finger firmly on the economic pulse, the till.

“I keep checking my apps as asked though I leave the cash flow in reality to Amber.”

Hazy plume, who had the unenviable task of being the all-seeing-eye supervisor, and to keep the ideas surfacing from drifting into vermillion clouds.

“That’s good. Mightn’t be such a bad idea if we made a few spot checks on our hubs.”

Albert, alias Rainbow chimed.

Creativity was this seamless mesh.

But with all the paraphernalia at each desk perhaps sight was being lost of the original concept.

Maybe this might explain the present fractious undercurrent, stilted atmosphere that appeared to dwell within this epicentre.

“YAWN YAWN YAWNS.

WE USED TO DREAM MINT LAWNS.”

A vocal scat from Lambent or the uncanny “Shadow.”

Now and then at any rate.

“Muffled squeaks, awh, so sad,

yikes, bah, too bad.”

The rub, the nub, the hub.

Sometimes the puns were flaccid where they once had flare.

After 5 years the wide-eyed optimism of wanting to bring the green utopia to the steel and concrete jungle of modern city life had somehow peaked, or maybe approaching it.

This wasn’t always obvious, however.

“THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.

HOLY SQUAWKING CROWS.”

Halcyon Xandu.

“I just got a text from one of our hubs. One of the hub computers crashed and there was even some steam generated.

Volume of loud noises reported but calm was restored.”

Suddenly everybody awakened from their stupor despite the seeming hive of activity.

“As far as I can gather the crash was cleared fairly quickly.”

Xanadu again.

Tho a creeping suspicion crossed her face.

Everyone rushed towards a center spot on the floor.

A buzz quite unusual swept across the tight nuclear pulse clique.

There was always a certain surge about this place even during a lull.

All this very macabre in a mild sense conduct might seem like a scheme being cobbled together.

By someone but who knows what that someone is if a someone at all might be.

A prevailing milieu that was taut, tense, tho teasingly trivial constantly at tangents.

“Utter breathless oath,

unearthly surreal cache,

burst of universal apogee indelibly trumpets,

exalted plot as moonbeam stepping stone,

Mecca to a hue-laden vortex,

that sequesters sun-drenched harbors, gurgling stream meanders, moss-fleck tides,

mesmerizing shroud of lambent bayou,

hazy plume on silver waterfall,

scarab mountain chain at sapphire dawn.”

Sylvan Zephyr throwing down the gauntlet and eschewing his tentative role as tactful go-between.

You’ll have noticed the no corresponding taper of sounds known as rhyme.

A sleight of hand from the scheme team within the dream team was at play.

The following day wonder world cocoon did a whirlwind inspection of the various hubs.

Not best pleased.

It looked as if all the hubs were splitting up into subhubs.

The staff were being secretive in all the business operations.

Even certain ideas from headquarters which hadn’t been released yet.

Wonder world spotted rough outlines of change from the corner of her eye relating to the above tract.

Ominous thoughts lurking.

She began to detect a pattern.

“Holy charging elephants.

I smell a rat.

That’s that. Everybody get out of here.

is that clear?”

The complex jewel sensor super sensitive alarm system which had been added to by each member rang out.

Mysteriously each member incognito ( sometimes) installed extra features.

Ashen volcanic smoke left little to the imagination.

The 7 member cluster eschewedsafety protocol.

But somehow managed to escape against an anarchic, chaotic backdrop that surged at breakneck speed.

“What about our valuables, valuables?

Or are they “EXPENDABLES.”

Diplomatic Sylvan Zephyr not so diplomatic.

This incendiary incident shook the other hubs, the people in them and the surrounding area.

The thunderstruck brain camp, most of them gazed incredulously at what was unfolding.

A sky tower inferno of cinder spewing incidents, boom laden choirs with puns, warnings, alerts, rhymes, ones and zeros,

volcanic cackles, surreal demolition, and on the spot disintegrated havoc never seen before.

It ended in a gradual stepwise motion before collapsing into a gradual “Black Shadow Plume.”

This plume decided to hover over

a “Smirk” like structure redolent of “Someone.”

In many ways what was left of their business center looked like

the nirvana they as a group were trying to fuse with urban vim.

Renee nudged Albert who squinted at the corner of his eye.

They both spotted “Lambent Shroud” with a retinue that included other hub members, heading towards a country signpost!!!!

At least he was in that coveted dream lead role.

Renee opined. “I hear Lambent whispering to himself about missing something .. ..no longer a puppet? and the sidekick?”

Albert now clued in on this earth shattering denouement that engulfs layer upon eternal layer of tiered narrative.

Renee, Albert, Amber Leaf the reliable and infinitely shrewd person on money flow now swop knowing glances and scrutinise what is left of a once ornate “Landmark” project.

“Where do we all go from here I wonder?

But should we actually be asking that question at all?

We shouldn’t have the nerve or gall!”

Albert reflected with a “Stick On Smirk.”

As the local fire brigade arrives a “Haze” of a more “endowed” kind descends on Renee, Albert, Amber.

1’s and 0’s of a massive kind beckon!!!

And a nearby shop’s cash register tolls triumphant.

Three straight fingers now in sync!!!!!

This short story is dedicated to my wonderful sister Jay A Pallen.

Photographs and story all my own work

A genuine thanks to all my supporters and followers on Tumbrl

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