#you break the localized time-stream of an area

[giantmonstermash]

Y'know, something just clicked in my head about Lancer, thanks to something i read in the tags on a reblog (thank you, @commiedalek-blog!):

How Non-Human are Non-Human Persons/N.H.P.s?

For instance: Would they have likes or hobbies like many humans do?

Does the ever-eager and bloodthirsty Sehkmet-Class N.H.P. in someone's mech secretly watch cheesy TV-Dramas as a guilty pleasure, or does it communicate in auditory hallucinations: The growl of a chain-axe, the splattering hiss and shriek of rending metal and coolants from a struck enemy, and the insatiable, ever-ready rumbling afterwards?

Does the Osiris-Class N.H.P. partnered to someone communicate in staticky flickers of code on nearby monitors, whispering a binary chant only its "Chosen" could hear? Or does it act like a sh#t-posting gremlin and rib the ever-loving Hell out of its "follower" when they mess up in a small way?

In a way, it reflects the sort of character you want to play: A more serious take would lean more into just how Non-Human an N.H.P. can be, while a more lighthearted take would lean on them being surprisingly human, for all their power and potential horror.

It's always a fascinating question to ask and answer, whether you're the player fleshing out your character and how they interact with N.H.P.s, or the GMs setting up interesting plot-hooks and missions involving them.

#lancer rpg #if you wanna #feel free to discuss #I like hearing people's thoughts on this kinda thing. #Is the Didymos-Class some sort of Temporal Brown Note? #Or do they act like doddering old Grannies and Grampas? #you break the localized time-stream of an area #and some slightly dusty candy falls out of a built-in dispenser in your Mech. #TY Robot Grandparent #That was Very Cash Money of You

[novelistparty]

youtube recommendations are very short-term sticky. If you deep-dive on a topic the algorithm logic will pin you as a certain kind of guy. But unfortunately it will then happily start showing you all the other stuff that that certain kind of guy might like. And most of the time, no. ewww. no.

So then you have to retrain it a little and head off to other mutually-exclusive topics so that you can keep the parts of the recommendations you like and stay far, far, far, away from the stuff you don't like. Freshen up the recommendations, shake out the dust and bugs

#I hope the yt algorithm people are enjoying the terrible wealth they receive for increasing 'engagement' even by a tenth of a percent #it would be kinda wild to browse the network graph of interests and see the emergent big-hop videos for various groups #by 'big-hop' I mean the videos the logic identifies as a small-time break-out hit - a vid you usually wouldn't find but do like #the ones that 'unlock' new areas of interest - leading to more subscriptions and views and more time on yt #and see what they've decided to do with vids and channels you watch once and don't really return to even though it maybe changed your life #stuff you definitely care a LOT about but won't lead to a steady stream of views #I once heard that big celebs can go to the ig office and see a more in-depth report about how people engage with their content #definitely a thing bc they have to have that rich analysis so they can make things more sticky #see the rankings of in-house categories - maybe stuff like “most likely to be immediately shared” and “share most widely” #or “longest streak of sharing” or “most rewatched” or “most likely to get people to leave yt for a while” #“high view count but also very dead-end” #“video with most scrubbing” “vid with most downloads” “vid watched over multiple days” #“entry points to watching a long series of videos” #“channels that people binge catch-up” #“vids most paused in a way that suggests following along with the instructions” #“vid with most local area permeation” #stepping-stone instructional videos where people move on to different topics after watching it #I should go to bed but I feel like I need a break from work - like a sabbatical - but not likely so i protest and stay up #my blog #youtube

[alienssstufff]

ANALYSING Q!SLIME'S FINAL BIRTHDAY GIFT [12/08/2023]

With the addition of the underground railway within the mines of q!Slime's Eggxile base, the choices on the birthday build (from the lead-up, the threshold, to the house itself) adds so much on to q!Slime's character as well as gives hints on the bigger picture of the Federation and the new wave of codes.

Prior to today's Birthday stream, the two significant builds in Eggxile are the Altar to Lil J and the Basement - two builds that represent q!Slime's religious devotion and his familial devotion respectively. I did an analysis comparing the two in another post HERE as a Part 1 - big recommend to read through that one before this one when you can!

This time I'll be going into detail specifically about the underground railway and how it represents q!Slime's 'devotion' to the island itself and the Federation.

long rambling ahead be careful [EXPLANATION UNDERCUT]

PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE: Quick SparkNotes summary about Slime's way of building:

Slime's builds are simplistic, symmetrical layouts (preferably circular)

Comprised of mostly local, easy to obtain/manufacture materials

A lot of flora interior

NO security, little-to-no input from the Create-mod

These characteristics were derived from the similarities between Slime's existing builds of the Altar and the Basement. The uncanniness of the Birthday Build is that it is an extension NOT built by Slime, but instead is the Federation's attempt to imitate his style and forcibly insert itself into his life.

We can presume that this is the Federation's doing and by extension JuanaFlippa's current identity by the context clues during the scavenger hunt. The main giveaway being the location of the START placed at the QSMP Dinner Hall: the first sightings of the Egg Codes and the location of Gegg's assassination. The detail of the FIRST CLUE as well being Slime's train ticket to the island supports this theory in assumption that it was the Federation that both brought the original 17 residence to the island and is currently withholding the tickets themselves.

The scavenger hunt goes as planned, all in all directing Slime back to his Eggxile base. (Note the poster being placed IN FRONT of the school's only exit)

THRESHOLD BETWEEN THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT: Not much of Slime's actual base is touched in the scavenger hunt other than the nook in the Basement Slime had originally designed to be JuanaFlippa's area. Here it is decorated with the carpet, two chairs, and two presents. Everything before that (lamps including) was made by Slime.

After Slime collects what he believes is the last of the presents the lamps in the Basement are progressively removed directing him to the only other light in room being the black wool platform and chest. These lamps were destroyed NOT turned off. The contents of the chest read as follows:

Hostile architecture is defined as a design strategy to purposefully guide or restrict movement (targeting mostly the homeless. it sucks). And by limiting Slime's vision here is the first of many examples of the Federation restricting Slime's movement as the path progressively becomes more and more forced.

From here to the mine entrance Slime is still given a physical choice whether or not to follow the light. This is the Federation's way in giving Slime the illusion of free choice. 'You chose to follow the light' 'You chose to break that wall in the mines' 'You chose to activate the train carriage'

The train carriage and its small, difficult to move around, interior being the last direct choice Slime makes. It locks him inside and sends him on a trip that goes no where but down, deeper into the mines.

It's worth noting that originally these mines originally belong to Slime. He made this entrance and he was able to freely explore any part of these caves. What the train carriage does is give Slime a strict path to follow and a very limited window to look through - no straying from the path here. Look only where the Federation tells you to.

Given the connection between codes and trains, symbolically this can also represent Slime's gradual spiral (the shape of the tracks) into hell - the madness that is the island led on by the Federation.

JUANAFLIPPA'S HOUSE: The road ends at a small house at the very bottom of the lush caves. It's a nice house! Supposedly trying to replicate the arched partition walls in the Basement... But not quite perfectly imitating his style of build. The giveaways being its asymmetry and the choice of materials: a variety of different wood types, most NOT local to Eggxile (also the fake house just looks prettier wwww)

Here's the two houses for comparison (Slime's house is an 8x8 block square)

Stylistically, the vibe of this house given the location and purpose remind me of that one Cold War bunker in Las Vegas. An underground mansion designed to look like the outside world - a secluded, controlled paradise for a family to live in.

The confirmation that the underground house being a facade becomes clearer the deeper Slime explores the inside.

Normal interior. Normal kitchen. Normal table: 4 chairs (like the outside bonfire), 3 mugs (Slime, Mariana, Juanaflippa). Shelves like Slime's old house in Sacapuntas. A passageway in the wall leading to Juanaflippa's room.

All these things portraying the life Slimeriana and Juanaflippa could have lived. A happy family tucked under from all the dangers of the outside, far far away from the world. Until you look deeper into the cracks only to find out it was all fake, there is nothing back there. A mockery in disguise of a gift.

THE FEDERATION AND SLIME: Prior to the birthday stream with the assassination of Gegg, Slime had initially come to terms that Juanaflippa was well and truly dead and had told ElQuackity (a member of the Federation) that he no longer had any attachments to the island, and because of that would try to be himself. The Federation responded to this twice: the first being ElQuackity offering a position to work with them and ElQuackity win the Elections (this fails as ElQuackity is assassinated by q!BBH); the second being this birthday stream.

So far the Federation has not destroyed anything Slime has built but instead added on top of it. These decisions both give Slime a reason to stay on the island whilst pushing him to do things aligned with the Federation's goals shown by the gifts he gets in the scavenger hunt (Ghillie suit, landmines, grappling hook, dark metal ingots).

Interestingly the 2nd prize during the scavenger hunt is quite literally called the CHARLIE Flag and is the nautical symbol for YES. While the purpose of this flag is for whatever mission the Federation is about to send Slime on, this is also metaphorical as the only response Slime can give right now is YES.

Additionally the flag metaphor could be applied on the controls at the beginning of the tracks: Red flag both socially and in Nautical terms (BRAVO) meaning danger/carrying dangerous cargo.

These are literal red flags in the world in the architecture that are warnings to Slime that once he 'agrees' to these terms and conditions, life for him will only get more dangerous with no way in turning back. Deliberate decisions made by the Federation in guise of Slime's actions and the places he's impacted in the world.

In the end, Slime is a product of the early QSMP and how its history shapes a person and is represented physically by the builds he makes. By the interference of the new tech and prettier structures, the Federation overwrites Slime's creations against his will, creating a world unfamiliar to him - blending what is the truth of the past with the new, augmented present. In another context, change like this can be a good thing - but in this circumstance presents itself as an invasive decision into Slime's private life. This is the Federation forcibly applying itself as one of Slime's priorities in sacrifice of rewriting everything Slime has gone through.

#stufff rambles #long post #slimecicle #qsmp #qsmpblr #qsmp analysis #qsmp spoilers #wish I could add more research on more cultural/historic symbolism tho this what comes to mind at the moment #Something else I wanted to add (idk where itd go) being Slime's healing arc sharing similarities w/ the Orpheus and Eurydice story #He keeps going to the end holding onto hope until the very end where he turns around to lose everything and damning everyone #this story visually being when Slime tries to run after Juanaflippa suddenly losing sight of her

[jarenka]

I finally translated a first part of my post-potj au into English. Well, machine translated it and @a1essie and @erlenwein helped me to edit it. I hope it’s readable. 

I drew a quick pic for it. Don’t worry Anakin will get his vitamin D later. They are on their first mission after Anakin left the hospital. 

"The training room is vacant," Anakin said. “You promised me sparring”.

Obi-Wan turned around. Anakin interrupted his conversation with Lieutenant Labal. They were in a break room, cluttered with furniture. Orange evening sunlight flooded it through the large transplasteel windows. 

“Wait a bit, I am almost finished.”

Anakin sat on the empty chair in the corner and watched Obi-Wan and his companion from under half-closed eyelids. He couldn't make out the exact words, but the tone of the voices was soft and friendly, and at the end of the conversation Obi-Wan patted Lieutenant Labal on the shoulder. After that, he turned around and sauntered over to Anakin.

“Are you interrupting my conversations with pretty women again? I thought you gave up that habit when you were sixteen.”

“Sorry, I didn't think you were flirting with a woman who is young enough to be your granddaughter.”

Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Get up, let's go.”

Anakin stood up. He still subconsciously expected pain from every sudden movement, even though it had been many months since he felt it. 

Obi-Wan had already left the conference room.

The training room was located at the end of a long, gut-like corridor. At first, Obi-Wan walked ahead, but Anakin quickly caught up with him, and they walked side by side, automatically adjusting to each other's pace like in the old days.

For Anakin, training was one of the few amusements here, on Carati, where they had been stuck for several months, helping rebels from the neighboring planet Surra. Obi-Wan and Anakin's group was providing supplies: they brought equipment, weapons and medicines, took away the wounded and refugees. This mission, part military, part humanitarian, tested Anakin's patience. He wanted a fight with imperial forces, to destroy patrol ships but they had to lay low if they wanted to continue their mission.  

Between trips to Surra once a week they barely have anything to do. Obi-Wan, the head of the mission, allowed his men to visit cities of Carati on their official leaves but all other free time they were spending on the military base. Anakin didn’t go outside even during his leaves and hardly talked to anyone. He was either training, or fixing something in the hangar, or sitting in his spacious bedroom watching holodrams from local holonet. He didn't like to appear in common areas: the dining room, the recreation room, the meeting room. People looked at him strangely.

Obi-Wan was also stared at, but in a completely different way. Just like before, when Anakin was a boy, they would go into the cantina together, and the women — and some men — would start to smile at Obi-Wan seductively and become too polite to him. Anakin didn't complain then: he often got a free dessert because the owner of the cantina or the waitress tried to impress the "uncle" with a young "nephew". He wanted to complain now. It was annoying. 

It was hot in the training room, despite the air conditioning. Evening sunlight streamed through the tall windows. Obi-Wan pulled off his shirt, remaining in his pants and undershirt, Anakin took off the hooded cape he usually wore over his shirt, and mechanically smoothed his hair. He needed to do something with it. Here, in the humid tropical climate of Carati, his hair curled more than usual and was constantly sweaty under the hood. 

Several people came into the training room and settled on a bench in the corner. Anakin could have kicked them out, but he didn't. He did not want to quarrel with the locals over mundane things, he forced himself to behave. Just like he forced himself to take medications on schedule and go to a physiotherapist before. He didn’t want Luke and Ahsoka to regret their trust in him. He didn’t want them to listen to all these "we told you that this asshole is not capable of behaving normally! If you stop controlling him, he will strangle coworkers simply because he can." Luke had already suffered enough because of Anakin.

Obi-Wan and Anakin activated their swords and moved away from each other. Anakin looked around the room. The four rebels on the bench sat down as if they had come to the theater. 

“I wonder what attracted them here: the battle or Obi-Wan in an undershirt?”

“Attack," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, he didn't even nod. Anakin barely had time to raise his sword and parry the first blow.

Obi-Wan's attacks followed one after another, giving Anakin no break. He had to grab the hilt with both hands to ward off another blow — so strong that it made Anakin's hands ache in the place where the living tissue connected to the prostheses. Obi-Wan flipped in the air and landed on the floor behind Anakin. It was hard to repel another attack. 

Each of their sparring caused huge amounts of annoyance to Anakin. Obi-Wan returned from the dead healthy, able to fight at his full strength, Anakin had to adjust his style to the new limitations of his body for the second time in a row. Now he moved faster and more freely than in Darth Vader's armor, but he could no longer hit with the same strength, exhausting the opponent. He had to be more careful and attentive, more defensive than attacking.

He was used to looking for a gap in the enemy's defense with sharp blows from all sides. Obi-Wan barely had any gaps in his defense. When Anakin managed to attack, Obi-Wan stopped his sword, as if he knew in advance what move Anakin would choose. 

Deceptive techniques wouldn’t help, because Obi-Wan was the one who taught Anakin them.

"You couldn't beat him up even when you were young and healthy, what do you want now?"

He wanted to win, of course. Obi-Wan, unlike Ahsoka, never succumbed to him. Anakin, still weak after treatment and too stubborn to admit it, almost instantly found himself on the floor, without his lightsaber. Ahsoka even reproached Obi-Wan for mocking Anakin.

"Does Anakin want me to succumb to him?"

"Of course, I don’t," Anakin replied.

Ahsoka looked at them and rolled her eyes.

And yet, despite the endless losses — it would take many months of intense training before he could fight on a par with Obi-Wan — he liked sparring. He could just fight. For fun. Without excruciating pain in his body. Without the constant expectation for the Master—the other one—to punish him for his weakness.

Anakin focused on the fight again. 

No distractions. Obi-Wan would definitely take advantage of his mistake, which he would make inevitably. Anakin felt that the fight was coming to an end. He was already tired, he couldn't keep up the same pace. He needed a break. 

And finally, Anakin didn't have time to react. He barely had time to notice the blue blade of the lightsaber rushing towards his hand. At the last moment, Obi-Wan turned off the sword, and only the silver hilt crashed into Anakin's wrist.

This blow shouldn't have worked, artificial hands don't hurt, but Anakin's new prosthetic was much more sensitive than the old one, and he, stunned by a wave of sensations — not quite pain—unclenched his fingers. The sword fell off. 

Anakin was breathing heavily. His lungs recovered, but they were still not enough for a serious lightsaber fight. It will pass eventually.

"You're too focused on not losing, and you should pay attention to technique," Obi-Wan said sternly.

“Are you going to lecture me again?” Anakin snapped.

He ran his palm over his forehead, wiping the beads of sweat.

"Should I just sprawl you on the floor without any commentary next time?” 

Anakin grunted vaguely. He didn't like being lectured by Obi-Wan and he wouldn't have liked it even more if Obi-Wan said nothing.

“You've never been good at losing a battle, Anakin," Obi-Wan continued. — “You should have learned it already at your age”.

“It's easy for you to say,” Anakin wanted to answer. "There's nothing wrong with you."

He didn't say it out loud, knowing that any of his excuses would sound ridiculous now. He needed training and asked Obi-Wan to spar himself. 

“Shall we repeat it?” he asked instead.

“Let's rest first," Obi-Wan said much more gently. Anakin knew that Obi-Wan didn't need to rest, and this respite was just for him. He sat down on another bench against the wall, where no one else was sitting, and closed his eyes. Obi-Wan soon joined him with two glasses of water from the vending machine. He handed one of them to Anakin.

“Thank you," he replied with a weak smile.

#star wars #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #obikin #post-ROTJ AU #my art

[mizunoyouni]

ੈ♡₊˚•. Sugar Drop

➳❥ Pairing - Hwei x gn! Reader

₊˚♡⋆˚ Summary - The summer you first met Hwei, he was just a handsome stranger to you. But after a week, you'd both become so much more than that.

.°˖✧˚ Content - 2.8k words of fluffy sweetness. A modern AU! summer themed meet-cute for all your romantic and heartfelt needs.

What's more charming than a chance encounter by the seaside with a handsome stranger? Or better yet, a heart fluttering meeting with someone you swear you’d only meet in your dreams?

It’s the tail end of summer when you’re working at your auntie’s café– a quaint little shop on a quiet stretch of beach in a small seaside town hidden away from tourists. You’ve been there plenty of times in your childhood on summer breaks between school, so while she’s shorthanded this month, and with an offer of lazy working hours, good pay, and a free room above her café for the two weeks she needs you, who are you to refuse?

Workdays start in the late morning with the same stream of regulars arriving, and it’s not long before you start putting names to faces and faces to drink and pastry orders. It's never terribly busy, and with the simple orders and small menu available, you feel as if you could do your job in your sleep. Everyone is so friendly too, but there's something about the sparkling sea in the background along with the calm, lazy atmosphere that has you hypnotized, wondering if you should settle down here for good.

When you mention it to your auntie, she only laughs and pats your shoulder as she watches you wipe down the counters after closing time. "Keep talking like that and you might just find a husband while you're here to complete your plans," she teases.

"Oh, I wish."

Your head shook at the playful remark as you quickly dismiss her words, so imagine your surprise when an unfamiliar face appears in the late afternoon a few days later– a tall lanky figure with dark hair and a pair of shimmering eyes unlike any you’ve ever seen before in your life. He’s not dressed like a local, that much is painfully clear to you, but you’re more focused on trying to write down his order while your mind wanders to daydreaming about a future with this handsome stranger you’ve only just laid eyes on.

There's something so alluring about him that you can't quite pinpoint for the life of you. Maybe it's the way his wavy locks of hair fall so effortlessly around his face like he has been blessed by some kind of heavenly spirit, or maybe it's how his lips part slightly before his melodic voice sings to you that has you helplessly at fate's mercy. Either way, it's as if the sea breeze had heard your prayers and pulled open the door of the café to send this stranger of your dreams right to you.

Gulping, you force your eyes to meet his. “Can I get a name for your order?” you ask.

“Hwei,” he says plainly, and it sounds so beautiful falling from his lips that the corners of your mouth curl up immediately as a rosy hue begins to caress your cheeks.

Your smile sends his heart racing as he quickly mirrors it with a shy one of his own. It feels like it’s pulling on your heartstrings, timidly strumming on them before he hastily pulls away nervously to take a seat at a table by the café window overlooking the beach. 

Once his gaze leaves yours, you’re too absorbed in scolding yourself for childishly fantasizing while you’re on the clock that you don’t notice him stealing glances back at you. A visionary he may be, but he can't for the life of him stop the image of you from flooding his mind as he puts his pen to the page of a leather-bound journal cradled in his hands.

It’s the following day at the exact same time when you grin widely at the sight of him again.

Your eyes meet his only briefly, still too shy to even stare at him for more than a few seconds. “Have you just moved to the area?” you ask, hoping that you’d be seeing him more during your short time serving drinks and sweets by the sea.

“I’m just visiting,” comes his simple reply, but it feels like your heart has just shattered into pieces at a mere three words.

You swallow your disappointment as you offer him a small “I see,” trying to distract yourself from your aching heart as you diligently assemble his order of strawberry lemonade and a square of your auntie’s lemon bars. Perhaps the sweetness would help hide the sadness etching its way onto your face from his careful watch.

“... Is there anywhere around town that you’d recommend I visit?” he suddenly asks, and you swear the butterflies in your stomach are threatening to escape through your mouth now.

With all your strength, you swallow them back down roughly, silently praying that they'd finally behave. “I-It’s not a tourist spot, but there’s a retro convenience store a little ways up the road from here. They sell a lot of locally made candies and snacks there,” is what you manage to say.

“I see… Well… I’m not very good with directions…” Hwei’s voice fades away slowly, but his eyes are still trained on you and you can hear him sharply inhale as he lets the last few words die in his throat. For a moment, it feels like he’s giving you a chance to say something, anything, but you can’t tell if it’s just your imagination or your infatuation with this stranger that has poisoned your mind with such sickly sweet thoughts. Maybe it's both.

A quiet stillness hangs in the air above you as you wonder what to say to him. Should you write down the address on a sheet of paper? Or maybe…

“I can show you! I’m actually off soon if you don’t mind waiting!”

You almost want to hide behind the counter and cover your face as the words burst out of your mouth, fluttering around and flailing messily in his face, but his reassuring smile has you choking back your apologies as he nods to your offer.

In a few minutes, you're walking down the street in the golden glow of the afternoon with Hwei by your side while unbeknownst to you, the sea breeze is gently pushing his hand towards yours. He’s a painter, you’ve learned, and he’s taking a week or so off for some inspiration hunting. But just hearing him speak so fondly about art and his passions has you thinking back to the feelings that blossomed in your chest when you had your first schoolyard crush years ago.

Swept off your feet and with rose tinted lenses on, you used to roll around in bed thinking about a special someone, kicking your legs and giggling to yourself as you fed yourself daydreams and musings before bedtime. It's been years since then, and you've long since forgotten the name of that person your child self dreamed of marrying, but now you have a gift from the sea breeze who has reignited those saccharine emotions once more.

So in return, you promise to show him the drink combination you used to love indulging in with your school friends right before summer break– a mixture of slightly sweetened soda and colourful fruit gummies. It used to be your favorite, back when your only worries were your skinned knees and summer reading assignments, but somewhere over the years as your friends drifted away and your summers were no longer spent in this cozy seaside paradise, it had started to fade from your memories.

As you both stroll through the convenience store alongside the ghosts of your childhood and youth long lost, Hwei notices a large assortment of candies quickly making their appearance in your shopping basket. “Oh, you just need to try them all,” comes your sunny declaration, and who is he to deny such a sweet voice?

On the curb outside, he sits by you as you prepare your childhood potion containing the laughter of your old friends and the faded amber sunsets of your teenage years. The brightly coloured candies float slowly in the clear soda, surrounded by flurries of bubbles, and you smile to yourself as you hand over the capped bottle to him, but not before swirling it a few times.

Needless to say, your laughter had his heart racing and his mouth running dry while he was left with his hands sticky with sugar as the only proof of being struck by cupid’s arrow. But all the same, he flashes you a tiny grin as he takes a sip of the sweet concoction and chews on the tiny pieces of gummy candy, his face now growing incredibly warm as you shared such a personal and nostalgic memory with him– a stranger.

You send him home that night with a bag of soda and sweets, a dream come true for the child trapped in his adult body, but he can’t help but want to see you, his summertime faerie, again. The longing look in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him either, and it just serves as more fuel for his hungry heart as he nervously asks for the next time you’re free.

The days you spend together in the little seaside town come and go, but not too quickly for either of you to not notice the feelings bubbling up in your chests every time you see each other. The attraction is mutual it seems, but neither of you have the courage to say a word about it in fear of reducing your carefully crafted house of cards to sand swept away by the ocean tide.

So instead, you dance around it, hands grasped together as the ocean waves crash behind you two, urging one of you to take a step closer. But despite the encouragement, you both remain at an arm's length, quietly satisfied with just hints and tiny tastes of a future together.

Now it’s the night before he’s set to leave when you’ve finished a candlelit dinner by the sea. With your feet in the sand, you pull him along for a leisurely walk on the beach, softly murmuring nonsense about the boring world you’ll go back to once your time working for your auntie ends. It's so simple, but your voice has him captivated as he listens, swearing to himself to treasure the little windows into your life you’re opening to him one at a time, little by little, even if he knows this moment won't last long.

Your yawning under the moonlight makes him smile sadly as he realizes it’s finally time to say goodbye to you. The seagulls have turned in for the night, the tide is low, and it's only the two of you left on the dark beach with your fingers intertwined and hidden in the darkness. So with a heavy heart, his hand tugs yours while he guides you back towards the streetlights, back to your auntie’s little café, and up the stairs to the small apartment above where you’ve been staying while working there. 

Neither of you say anything as you push the brass key into the keyhole, but the silence is so loud it might as well be singing acapella in an empty concert hall. Your door swings open with a deafening creak, and with the lights already on inside, Hwei can see small glimpses into your room– small glimpses of you that you haven’t shown him yet, but glimpses that he so desperately wishes to see despite the fact that you’ve both run out of time. 

Half way through the door, the beating in your chest screams for you to turn around, and you’re met with Hwei’s breathless expression as his eyes gaze upon you once more. It’s so soft, so longing, so desperate as he reaches his arm up to scratch the back of his neck from nervousness.

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy this week as much as I did, truthfully,” he whispers hoarsely, quietly begging for a few extra minutes with you.

“I’m glad to have met you,” is all you can say without shattering your own heart. And for a split second, he seems content with just having those little words to walk away with.

Another bout of silence washes over the two of you– this time it’s calmer, more somber as you swallow the lump in your throat and quickly throw a glance behind you into your room that would soon serve as the prison separating you from him. Your mind tells you to finally bid him goodbye and shut the door– anything to quickly close this chapter of your dreamy romance, but your heart says otherwise. Because as you stand there, staring into his shimmering eyes that whisper so sweetly to you, you realize that there’s no way you can let the night end without being completely honest with yourself.

And so you step towards him, your legs feeling shaky as your hands rest on his shoulders, gently pulling him towards you. The cool sea breeze glides in to aid you in your endeavor, ruffling your hair and caressing your skin, and before you know it, Hwei’s face is closer to yours than you can ever imagine. His eyes are wide, wondering if he himself was dreaming, but you don’t let him wonder for too long before you press a kiss to his lips, soft and fleeting and warmer than the high noon sun. It’s enough to give him a sunburn, but he’d give anything for the kiss to last just a bit longer. It's intoxicating to the point where he wishes to do nothing more than to greedily feast on it until the sun rises, but before he can reach his hands out to hold you still, you pull away with a red face, and his arms fall to his sides limply as his glimpse of heaven is quickly ripped away.

Between hurried words of goodbye, you stumble backwards into your room and softly shut the door, finally putting an end to your summer romance while you sink to your knees to mourn the loss of the handsome stranger who had so easily captured your heart.

Outside, Hwei stands there, stone still as he stares at the door that has now replaced you. Thousands of jumbled thoughts race through his mind, none of which he can properly decipher after you so easily and beautifully made a home for yourself in his heart, only to vacate it just as quickly. After a moment, he finally shakes his head, his fingertips flying up to his lips that still burn from your touch. And as he painfully makes his way down the stairs away from you, he’s sure, that for better or for worse, even if he’s set to leave this seaside town bright and early tomorrow morning, the memory of you would still be haunting his dreams, just as the taste of your lips plagued his mind– sweeter than sugar and warmer than summer itself.

That night, sleep easily escapes you as you desperately try to chase after it. But no matter how hard you try, it continues to evade you while your thoughts circle around and around and back to the painter who had so gracefully wooed you in a mere seven days. Your mind is restless and your heart pounds in your ears as you lay tucked in bed, wondering if in another life perhaps you’d be waking up next to Hwei's sleeping face and carding your fingers through his messy strands of hair basked in the soft glow of dawn. It pains you, and yet it soothes you, so just as you used to snack on daydreams and sweet nothings in your youth before bedtime, now you let yourself fall asleep to the sound of every sugar coated what-if that enters your mind, until at last, sleep finally finds you.

The next day is bittersweet as you open up the café knowing that it will only be full of strangers now that Hwei is gone. It's almost surreal to you how quickly he had come into your life, stolen your heart, and made a swift, effortless getaway back to whatever life he's been living without you in it. Criminal as it was, you'd never think to press charges, because as silly as it may seem, you feel rather pleased with the heartfelt flowers he planted in your heart, even if they are destined to wither with his departure.

But as you step outside to flip the “closed” sign to “open,” you notice a piece of paper taped securely to it, folded neatly and smelling faintly of brine. Scrawled in black ink is your name, penned to perfection in a way that makes your heart skip a beat and sends your fingers flying as you quickly tear the tape off for an opportunity to quell the aching pain in your chest that screams and wails for the comfort of another.

Beautifully drawn with careful lines is a portrait of yourself staring back at you, inky eyes twinkling up at your shock as adrenaline shoots through your veins and you feel yourself gasping for air. Your eyes scan the page, searching and searching until you come across three words that wink at you, followed by a string of numbers.

“Please call me,” it says. And you've never run to pick up your phone faster.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Author's note - I'm in some desperate need for some fluff in my life right now, so enjoy some sugary goodness with this one (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)₊˚⊹♡

#modern au #hwei x reader #hwei #gn reader #league of legends x reader #‧₊˚✩彡 miya writes

[askmerriauthor]

Pokemon Violet - The Paldea League and Geeta

Man, Geeta has turned Paldea into kind of a shitshow, hasn't she?

Discussion/stream of thought rambling on elements of the game's story after the jump. Spoilers ahoy. This is about the story and lore implications, not about the combat-based mechanics of the Pokemon League.

The actual purpose and function of the Pokemon League throughout the various incarnations of the Pokemon franchise over the years have always been a little muddy. That's on purpose, I believe, as it allows more creative freedom for each version to define itself. In the earlier games, the Pokemon League was a sort of trial to prove one's worth as a Trainer exclusively. It had no impact on the lives of anyone other than combat-focused Trainers. As time went on and the stories became more complex, we saw the League turn into a more public element that had a greater impact on its setting. The Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and the League Champion became public figures of renown and respect. It varied from being local celebrities to even being something akin to vigilante superheroes. By the time we got to Alola (Sun/Moon), it was shown that establishing a Pokemon League is both A) something a region does entirely on its own for its own purposes and B) something that will put a region on the map. Having a League brings prestige and value to the area. This is never more overt than in Galar (Sword/Shield) where the entire Gym circuit and Pokemon League is a heavily commercialized professional sport that directly parallels fútbol here in the real world in terms of its popularity, scope, and money-making. As time has gone by, we've seen the Pokemon League become less of a rite of passage and more of a business.

The Pokemon League in Paldea, meanwhile, cranks that up to 11 and breaks the knob off. And that is to the utter detriment of literally everyone.

As has been frequently observed, the Gym Leaders of Paldea don't actually seem to like being Gym Leaders and certainly don't like the Champion, Chairman, and Creator of the Paldea League; Top Champion Geeta. She's their boss and behaves as such, keeping a professional and detached attitude toward them and everything else she does. The various Gym Leaders discuss how much she micromanages them and puts pressure on them for performance. On one hand, she enforces performance reviews several times a year that risk a Gym Leader losing their role if they don't meet her standards. On the other hand, Geeta ordered Katy - the Bug Gym Leader - to hold back and go easy on Trainers who challenge her because her Gym just so happens to be near to the academy where newbie Trainers might be discouraged if she was too tough. Geeta even controls what teams of Pokemon the Gym Leaders use. Larry is a Normal-type Trainer by his own preference, but Geeta forces him to use Flying-types later in the game.

We can be generous when we examine these behaviors, given how the Gym Leaders themselves offer a more gracious view of Geeta's behavior after you defeat them. They give the impression that Geeta's meddling is the result of a genuine, if poorly implemented, desire to encourage them and young Trainers to achieve more. I don't necessarily disagree with that, but it's also abundantly clear that Geeta is running Paldea into the ground and actively abusing everyone around her in the process. Young Trainers included.

Despite the Gym Leaders having that as their job, it's also a point worth noting that it's not their only job. Every Gym Leader has another job - they run a bakery, are a professional artist, a livestream internet celebrity, or pull double/triple duty within the League itself. Larry is simultaneously a Gym Leader, a member of the Elite Four, and some form of administrative agent within the League. And, yes, he is exactly as exhausted, over-worked, and spiritually beaten down as one would think. It's never explicitly stated why this is the case, but it's clear that being a Gym Leader doesn't pay the bills. As in, Geeta is not paying her employees sufficiently to make a living in the amazingly generous and socially supportive world that is the Pokemon Setting. Larry makes mention of how Geeta likes to rope people into doing her work for her, or just working for free, which we not only see but experience ourselves firsthand.

At the beginning of the game, the very first time we meet Geeta, she's talking Nemona - a teenage student who is not her employee - into doing work for her. At the end of the game, Geeta volunteers the League to aid in setting up a tournament, but immediately puts all the admin work on Nemona - to the point that Nemona can't participate in the event, despite battle being the one thing she loves most in the world. When we the Player become a Champion (not The Champion, A Champion - Geeta never surrenders her title as Top Champion and just bestows a lesser title on those who beat her), the first thing she does is rope us into doing her performance review of the Gyms for her. She also blackmails Penny into doing free programming work against her will to help the League. Arven, meanwhile, is not given any task because Geeta doesn't see him as useful, so he's specifically ignored as comedic relief.

On top of all this is the fact that Geeta is also on the Academy's board. She has a massive amount of influence over the school, its staff, and its students. This becomes a particular issue given how Geeta has fully integrated the Pokemon League into the local economy.

Something exclusive to Paldea is something called "League Points". This is a digital currency in-universe that can be used to purchase various goods and services from League-sponsored sources. That is to say, literally every market in the entire setting with the specific exception of individual auctions of rare items outside the standard economy. Even the student store and cafeteria use League Points. To be blunt, it's Company Scrip. The Player does things that the League wants done (combating Pokemon, trading in useful materials, challenging Gyms, doing research on Tera Raids, etc), they're given Company Scrip, and they then spend that Scrip at vendors the Pokemon League owns or subsidizes. Anyone with even a hint of common sense or a knowledge of history knows how this is an EXTREMELY BAD THING as a practice. Made all the worse by the fact Penny is able to very easily hack into the system and illegally produce/distribute all the League Points she likes, meaning it's not even a particularly well-designed system.

Going to the "villain plot", despite Geeta absolutely not being considered a villain and the story technically not having a villain at all: there's allusions in the game lore that Geeta is directly involved in the Tera outbreak plaguing the region - that is to say, a massive environmental threat endangering the entire population and region itself - and that she helped set it into motion for how it would empower the League. Tera Orbs - the proprietary and exclusive technology needed to use this game's gimmick - are held only by the League, Gym Leaders, and specific Trainers approved by Geeta. Using them is ultimately detrimental to Pokemon, Trainers, and Paldea as a whole, but that doesn't stop Geeta from distributing them as suits her needs.

Even going back to the earlier notion of looking at Geeta's actions with a generous gaze and giving her the benefit of the doubt, I'm left unable to reconcile that given the outcome. Geeta herself says everything she does is for the sake of making Trainers stronger and encouraging others to achieve great things. Yet her actions - both as a League member and personally - weaken and hinder everyone around her. The Player becomes stronger despite everything Geeta sets in place and for their own reasons. It's stated in-game that the vast majority of Trainers in Paldea never get more than three badges, and Geeta herself states that she's unable to hold back against anyone who challenges her because she enjoys the thrill too much. As a result, Nemona and the Player are the only other Champions to exist in Paldea since Geeta's been running the show. Also, not even beating all the Gyms is enough to qualify one to challenge the League; Geeta enforces an interview and, if you don't answer questions to their satisfaction (specifically to their satisfaction - if you just answer earnestly and not say what Geeta wants to hear, you fail), then you're denied access to the League outright.

On top of all of this? I know I said I wasn't going to talk about the combat mechanics, but it is relevant in this case. The Gym Leaders, the Elite Four, and Top Champion Geeta herself are... well, to be completely frank? They're weak. Like, laughably weak. Geeta has a team composition that doesn't make any sense and is designed in a way that intentionally sabotages her combat viability. I wasn't even significantly over-leveled or relying on clever strategies, and I utterly steamrolled every single challenge with just my Grass-type Starter Pokemon and the occasional swap to my Salazzle when I was feeling bored. I didn't even bother with type match-ups or using the Tera gimmick. Amusingly enough, Larry gave me the most trouble - he got two whole hits on me in the midst of his steam rolling. The Gyms and League are simply... weak. All because of Geeta's endless meddling. And even the characters themselves seem frustrated and resentful about it. For all of Geeta's talk about wanting to make Trainers stronger, everything she does actively weakens everyone around her and herself.

What we end up with is a Pokemon League that's centered around one person's goals and ideals, that's forcing everything and everyone around it to bend to that person's whims. All in a way that's actively undercutting those desired goals in the process. If Geeta is trying to make the Paldea League a major player for the sake of gaining a better standing for the region, she's doing a cataclysmically bad job of it. I really hope we get a lot more lore in the upcoming DLC expansion because Geeta's left all kinds of questions that really need addressing.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #geeta #pokemon geeta #geeta ruins everything

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 3 - Semi-Public

Today’s kinktober prompt is brought to you by the lovely @himilce-persephoniea who requested: Semipublic sex? 👉👈

Canvas Tents and Earthen Floors - 997 words

Rated: E

Content: Bottom Anakin, Top Obi-Wan

---

There were times in war where the terror sneaked up on you; breaking through the cracks that appeared along the fortification, streaming into the water to poison the well that you drew from day in and day out in order to survive. One moment you were fine and the next you weren’t - a misplaced step on a stone, a droid that got too close, a crash nearby that rattled the body from the impact alone. Terror would sneak in, insidious and all consuming, wiping away that carefully maintained sense of invulnerability.

For Obi-Wan it was watching Anakin stumble off the side of an embankment during a bloody fight. One moment he was there, the blue glow of his blade highlighting the sharp grin on his features, and the next he was gone, clone troopers falling with him down into the cavern below. Though he’d been unscathed it had rattled Obi-Wan, the thought that Anakin was just gone sitting heavy in his gullet.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“S-sorry, Master.”

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, toes curling in his socks as Obi-Wan bit into the meat of his shoulder. Hugging Obi-Wan closer Anakin relaxed into Obi-Wan’s aggression, biting his bottom lip as he was pushed into. They hadn’t even made it to the cot, instead falling down on to the floor, clothes half off and bodies already aching as they rutted up into each other.

Shadows flickered along the canvas walls and ceiling, clone troopers and locals of the area congregating in pockets around the camp, unaware as to what was transpiring in General Kenobi’s tent.

“You shouldn’t have gone off that direction,” Obi-Wan said, his voice punctuated by breathy groans as he fucked into Anakin. His touch was desperate, fingers pressing deep bruises into Anakin’s hips and thighs, wrenching Anakin open and holding him in place. “I told you not to go that way.”

“T-that’s where all the fun was,” Anakin bit back, followed by a loud moan that Obi-Wan repressed with a firm hand across his mouth.

Someone nearby stopped a moment, shadows slowing along the canvas above. Obi-Wan’s palm covered Anakin’s mouth, fingers slick with lube across his jaw and cheek as he continued to push into Anakin. His movements were precise, cock fat and heavy striking Anakin in his prostate mercilessly. It almost hurt the way in which Anakin was being shoved around, his back pressed into the hard earth, legs spread and tucked, low back pushed into as Obi-Wan pressed.

But it was a reminder of what they still had - that they were both still here, in each other’s arms, driving each other mad in all the ways that were improper for a Jedi and a General, yet felt all the same. Pleasure and discomfort roiled around inside Anakin, their combined weight pressing into the bruises and cuts he’d sustained during the fall, letting him know he was still here.

As soon as the shadow passed Obi-Wan dropped his hand, Anakin sucking back thick mouthfuls of muggy air. The smell of sex and perfumed flowers was dense in his lungs, and he turned his head to push his face against Obi-Wan’s neck, desperate for more of it. Like this, pressed in so close, Anakin could hear the noises Obi-Wan was making - desperate little hitches that were only interrupted by a sharp word of endearment or rebuke - it was sometimes difficult to tell.

Off in the distance voices rattled through the camp, frogs croaked, and crickets chirped, while the the thick slap of skin against skin and the desperate little moans punctuated the silence in the tent. They were being too loud - not cautious enough - but Anakin relished in the fact. Let Obi-Wan’s men know who he fucked. Let them know that he took General Anakin Skywalker to bed - or the floor, as the case may have been - and shoved his cock inside of him, claiming him as his own in sharp defiance of the Jedi Code.

“Q-quiet yourself,” Obi-Wan panted out as he raised his head.

He was close. Anakin could feel it in his touch, bruising yet trembling, and how his hips twitched, movements becoming unsteady and quick as he fucked into Anakin’s tight heat. Anakin could barely hold on himself, overcome with the skitters and waves of pleasure that washed through him, his cock twitching between their forms, still so hard despite being neglected all this time.

It was dark in the tent, no light save for what came in through the canvas from outside, but Anakin could make out Obi-Wan’s expression despite it all - the furrow of his brows, the drips of sweat across his temples, how spit clung to the bristles of his beard and his bottom lip. And his eyes were like twin suns in the darkness, bright with arousal and something else.

Fear. Fear for what he almost lost; fear for how much it affected him; fear for what all this might mean.

Anakin crushed their lips together, Obi-Wan swallowing his moans as they rode through their orgasms together. Tensing around Obi-Wan’s cock, Anakin kept him pressed in close as he shuddered beneath him, his hand wrapped tight around his length as he squeezed out as much as he could. Their tongues swept across each other, mouths open and hungry as they panted, Anakin moaning freely as Obi-Wan spilled all he was worth inside of him.

Collapsing on top of Anakin, Obi-Wan peppered Anakin’s neck with soft kisses, breath hot and sticky across his flushed skin. Nearby two troopers had stopped to talk, their voices soft amongst the thundering in Anakin’s head, heartbeat fast and wild.

“Have you seen the Generals?”

“No. But Cody said don’t go looking for them. Something about an important mission.”

“How come we never get to learn about these secret missions?”

“I think some things are best left unknown, soldier.”

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #lemon fanfiction #lemon does kinktober

[thighsoverlives]

Savior - 1/?

⋆ relationship ⋆

John Price x F!reader

⋆ summary ⋆

Your deadbeat boyfriend up and leaves you, turning your world upside-down. After a mishap at the local liquor store, an older man with a mysterious background takes interest in you.

⋆ notes ⋆

found this in my docs lol. its like 4 months old but i decided to finish this part of it (where is this motivation coming from??). hopefully it turns into something half decent but god knows because i have no idea where i want to take this. soo.. enjoy lol.

⋆ warnings ⋆

implied/referenced harassment (very brief)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

hope you enjoy! (●'◡'●)

Part One : Bad Decisions

Your hands are trembling as you angrily pull at fistfuls of hair. All of you want to do right now is feel anything but this stabbing pain. You’re drawing in unstable breaths but it still feels like you can’t breathe. Like all the oxygen in the world will not be enough because your lungs feel like they're going to collapse in on themselves. Like they’re going to explode. Your vision is blurry from all the tears you’ve been crying. You hate this feeling. Hate how the area under your eyes stings as more hot tears stream down your cheeks. You want everything to stop, stop, stop. You can’t do this right now.

Just last week your deadbeat piece of shit boyfriend had up and left you, using the excuse that he’d found someone better. That he’d been seeing that someone for a while. The insinuation that you had never ever been good enough for him in the four years that you’d wasted with that fucking piece of garbage hurt you more than you expected it to. You’d already emotionally detached from him months ago but it still hurt so much. Even though he was the absolute epitome of trash, he was still a major part of your life. He was stability in the sense that your life had been relatively the same for the past four years. Now that he was gone, what were you supposed to do with yourself? Were you just supposed to pick up the pieces that he had so haphazardly broken and discarded and put them back together? It seemed impossible. 

Your breathing was again becoming more labored. Your body physically fucking hurt. Everything hurt. You wanted things to go back to normalcy. Even if normalcy meant feeling alone with him. Even if normalcy meant suppressing your tears every time he made a backhanded comment or cruel remark. Even if normalcy meant being in the worst emotional pain you’d ever felt for the last four years. You hoped maybe he’d come knocking on your door in the dark of the night, telling you how sorry he was and how he’d treat you right this time. But this wasn’t a fairytale. He wasn’t your knight in shining armor, here to save you and take away all your pain. Hell, even thinking that he would apologize or give you anything that even resembled comfort was a fever dream. Why did you still want him to come back? You knew the promises of changing his behaviour were empty and hollow. But you wanted your normalcy back so fucking bad. Stop, stop, stop, stop. You wanted to yell at yourself for even thinking that. Fuck. He had screwed your brain up so much. Fuck, you hated him.

You wanted to scream. Wanted to break something. Wanted to punch a fucking hole in your wall. Wanted to break everything in your shitty apartment. God, you were such a fool. You’d wasted so much time on him and he was such a piece of shit. Fuck. This apartment was suffocating you. The walls felt like they were closing in, coming to crush you. You had to get out. You grabbed the nearest hoodie and pulled on your sneakers and in nothing else but shorts, you left your apartment. Liquor and Tylenol sounded like a nice combo to forget this shitty week. If you were lucky enough maybe you could forget the past four years too. 

The chilly March night air nipped at your bare skin as you pushed the lobby door open. You should have bothered to put a decent pair of pants on and you could hear your father’s voice in the back of your head saying “This is how you catch a cold,” but you pushed on. 

The streets were quiet. The sun had long since set so there weren’t many people out and about. The liquor store was only a couple blocks away but it probably wasn’t a smart idea to be going out in the first place. Your neighborhood wasn’t exactly what one would call safe. The apartment was dirt cheap, and for good reason too. This side of the city was riddled with crime and shady personnel. It was all you could afford though. It didn’t matter much either. You just wanted booze and some pain killers. The store wasn’t that far away and you’d never been hassled.

The door to the liquor store opened with resistance as the chimes hanging above announced your arrival. You went right to the cooler. It was slightly isolated from the rest of the store, the sliding doors separating it from everything else. The cold once again sent goosebumps racing up your legs as the doors slid open. You walked to the back of the cooler, in search of a six pack of Heineken. Maybe you’d get a twelve pack. You were pulled from your thoughts as three men approached you. 

One of the three stepped forward. He was wearing a baggy hoodie with grey sweatpants splattered with stains. “What’s a lovely lady like you doing out at this time of night?” His breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, with a pungent undertone of something you could only describe as shit. 

“Just picking up some beer,” you replied flatly. You had suddenly become aware that they were blocking your exit and a twinge of panic began to bloom.

“How ‘bout I take you back to my place. I can show you what a real party looks like.” He gave you a smile and it sent shivers up your spine. You should have never left the safety of your apartment. 

“No, it’s okay, my boyfriend is waiting for me at home.” You tried to return a smile and hoped your bluff didn’t sound too far fetched.

“C’mon, don’t be lame. This would be way more fun than going home to your boyfriend. Just come with me, yeah?”

“No, really, it’s okay-”

“I don’t think you’re getting the fucking hint.” He reached for your wrist, grabbing it tightly. The two other men that were with him took a step closer. 

Your stomach dropped. You were so fucked. 

“Do we have a problem here, gents?” A thick British accent came from behind the group of goons.

“I think you should mind your own fucking busines-” Before he could finish his sentence, he jaw was connecting with the British man’s fist. You were pulled forward for a second before you were able to release yourself from his grasp. He crumpled into a pathetic mess, blood pouring from a gash in his cheek. One of the other goons went to swing but was stopped by another man who kicked at the back of his knee and sent him sprawling to the floor like his friend. 

“I’d suggest you leave now.” The other man spoke in a low, calm tone as he bent down to look the two men in the eyes.. His voice was also thick with a British accent.

The group of men left the cooler quickly without any more protest.

“You alright?” 

Your hands were once again trembling as you stared at the little splotches of blood on the floor. You should have never left the apartment. What were you thinking? God you were such a fucking idiot. 

“Ma’am?” The voice was calm and soft as it broke you from your trance.

“Fine. Yes, I- I’m fine.” You stumbled over your words, hands still shaking uncontrollably. 

“Uhm, the name’s Gaz, and this is Price. Sorry about what happened,” he paused. “Is there anything we can do for you?” 

“N-no, it’s fine.” You felt lightheaded, like you were going to pass out any second. What the fuck just happened? Your head was spinning. 

“Did you come here by car?” The one named Price asked. Price, a funny name, a last name? It must have been a last name. Price. Like a price tag.

“Walked.” 

You might’ve been more concerned if not for your dazed state. These men were still strangers and despite the fact that they saved you, they could also be acting with ill intentions. Why was he asking if you had a car anyways? Was it so he could determine whether or not you were an easy target? Your head was spinning 

Trembling hands grasped for a case of beer. This night was just getting shittier by every passing second. You had to get out of this cooler. It was suffocating you just like your apartment was.

You pushed past the men, bumping into the older one as you left. 

“Ma’am, are you going to b-,” His voice was cut off abruptly. The younger one said something to him and the talking ceased. They were probably plotting to abduct you. You were so, so stupid. Why on Earth did you ever leave the safety of your apartment? Sure, the complex was shitty and the security wasn’t great but at least you’d be behind a locked door. 

 You tossed the case of beer onto the counter, paying little mind to the cashier.

“Everything okay? I heard a commotion in there.” He scanned the beer, eyeing you as he did.

You scoffed, not replying. It felt like the world was against you. Maybe you were confusing genuine concern for something more insidious but you could care less what he was thinking. 

The bells chimed once again as you exited the building. As you began walking towards your apartment, you saw the two men who’d beat the goons up getting into their car. A black sedan type. You were thankful it wasn’t a white van. You sighed, pulling your hood up over your head. You were so tired of this shit. 

#john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod x you #eventual romance #eventual fluff #angst?

[zinjanthropusboisei]

The door in the meadow has been there for months. I enjoyed the enigma - I drew a little comic about it and now I have several thousand people in my notifications arguing about whether I should go through the possibly-magic-possibly-cursed doorway and embark on a heroic quest (For the record, having had a thorough education in, among other things, medieval Celtic literature and mythology and the perils of passage into otherworlds, I have not gone through the door).

The thing is, the door is still there. After my berry picking days of high summer, when I largely worked from home and walked that way every other day for an iced coffee and a break from the downstairs neighbor, I didn't go to the meadow until February. And it's still there. It's on university land, in one of the sprawling natural areas ancillary to campus, and I'd like to ask someone at the botanical gardens about it, but I'm worried that perhaps its continued presence is unsanctioned, and that drawing attention to it will run the clock out.

I'll be keeping a closer eye on the door these days though - that scrap of woods is also my calendar, the little brook usually surrounded by skunk cabbages poking up as the first sign of spring. The timing's all gone wrong the last few seasons, no snow then too much snow then floods. I last passed through on February 28th, and the cabbages were there - harder to spot without their blanket of snow. When a plant generates enough internal heat to melt a hole through a foot of snow, it tends to catch the eye. Less so when it's one spike of mottled burgundy-brown against a creek bed.

In my last visit, I was observed - several deer on the opposite side of the creek, separated by a small rill of water and a bank of reeds. I think I've failed to paint an adequate picture, from a topographic point of view. It's a place of nature, as dictated by the university's categorization scheme for its outer regions - a Natural Area, the So-and-So Woods Natural Area, a remnant of woodland that rises up and down around a small scrap of crick. In the middle is a meadow on top of the ridge, like a pause for sunlight, ringed by berry bushes. The ridge slopes down to the north to the stream, which is granted a brief reprieve between the severe constraints of an uphill golf course and the suburban neighborhood downhill where it is blinkered by culverts.

The door isn't the only human intrusion; there's a frisbee golf course on one end and a small seismic station on the edge of the meadow near the door (This at least will provide some truly unique scientific observations should there be a large-scale fairy invasion). It's the same kind of seismic monitoring set up that I used to rely on for research: a small solar panel and GPS unit at the surface, connected to the recording equipment in a big plastic tub weather-proofed as well as possible with duct tape and a tarp, all connected to the actual seismometer buried out of sight in the quiet earth, measuring its every twitch and rumble.

It's the GPS unit I'm thinking of; it doesn't only provide location, but also - more critically - time. To analyze seismic data - not just locating earthquakes but also things like identifying structures within the Earth - you need precise timing data. The calculations revolve around the time that it takes for seismic waves to travel through different rock layers, so you don't rely on local clocks in each individual recording unit; you use the GPS to synchronize. On one of the projects I worked on when I was a geology student, we were maintaining an array of seismometers across northern Tanzania, peering into the East African Rift. About a month after installation, the GPS units started to fail en masse across the array, and by the time we returned six months later to harvest all that lovely data that had been steadily filling up the SD cards, all but five of the clocks had failed. The timing was gone, and the data was useless - unmoored in time and therefore in space.

It's an apt metaphor, if it even counts as a metaphor given how literal the unmooring feels when it's over 60 degrees in upstate New York in February. My internal clock is set to berry time and skunk cabbages and when the lake water gets to be a swimmable temperature, and my clock is losing time. The door is a nice distraction, but it's not the most unnerving discontinuity in the woods.

#climate thoughts #writing #nature

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Ozarks Habitat Restoration: Privet, Honeysuckle, and One Rogue Hoe

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/ozarks-habitat-restoration-privet-honeysuckle-and-one-rogue-hoe/

I wasn’t always a Northwest kinda person. I originally grew up in the Missouri Ozarks, mostly in Rolla, surrounded by farmland swiftly being chewed up into yet another subdivision. But there were patches of woods and fields left for me to explore. Often it was disturbed land being taken over by eastern red cedar (Juniperus virginiana) and a host of invasive species. But further away from home I saw remnants of vast white oak forests and savannas.

Being rather sheltered in a not-outdoorsy family, and not having much in the way of friends, I didn’t have much opportunity to explore the local ecology in person. So I have this odd mishmash of Things I Know about where I grew up, and a whole bunch of Things I Don’t Know, too. Now that I’m coming back to visit this place periodically with more knowledge and skills, I’m taking the time to fill in the blanks as quickly as I can.

One of the ways I’ve been able to reconnect with this place is by volunteering with the Ozark Rivers Audubon Chapter whenever I’m in town. They have a beautiful 70-acre nature center on the northwest end of town, and in spite of its size it features five distinct habitat types–oak savanna, upland oak/hickory forest with some shortleaf pine (Pinus echinata), a dolomite glade, tallgrass prairie, and a lovely little spring-fed stream with riparian habitat on either side. A trail system allows visitors to explore this wonderful array of habitats.

When the weather is good, you can find volunteers out working on habitat restoration and other projects around the center. This includes significant numbers of students from the Missouri University of Science and Technology (which was the University of Missouri-Rolla back when I was working on my Bachelor’s degree there–one of maybe fifty English majors at a STEM-focused campus!) The coordinators are always open to drop-in volunteers, so if you find yourself in the area, check the bulletin board on site for information about upcoming volunteer events, or check their Facebook page.

Earlier this month I was in town, and dropped in for a volunteer event. It was a potpourri of maintenance and upkeep efforts, with volunteers adding wood chips to trails and clearing blockages from drainage systems, among other tasks. I ended up being directed to wage war on some of the invasive plants plaguing the riparian area near the picnic shelter. In addition to a Pullerbear–which, along with the very similar Extractigator, is one of my main tools at home for yanking up Scotch broom  (Cytisus scoparius)–I was given a new toy to play with.

Rogue Hoe isn’t just inspiration for a great band name. It’s also become my new favorite thing for invasive species removal. Specifically, I got to use their hoe/pick combo, with a 48″ ash handle. Now, it may just look like an undersized mattock, but let me tell you–this thing is far superior. It’s much lighter, weighing in at about three pounds. And the shorter, more slender head is a lot easier to manipulate into tiny areas where you might have an invasive plant growing right next to a native one you want to keep, or right underneath the root system of a big ol’ plant you want to get rid of. If you need to dig out a bigger plant and the extractor isn’t budging it, or you have a slender plant that you worry may break if you pull it, you can use the Rogue Hoe to loosen the soil around the roots.

Oh, one more cool thing about it–Rogue Hoe makes their tools out of recycled agricultural disc blades! Can’t go wrong with sturdy and green.

So with the Rogue Hoe and Pullerbear in hand, I set about seeing how deeply into the riparian zone I could get myself, systematically yanking invasive plants as I went. The most numerous was some sort of privet (Ligustrum sp.) But unsurprisingly I found not one but two species of invasive honeysuckle, bush (Lonicera tatarica) and Japanese (Lonicera japonica).

Because spring growth is just getting ramped up, there were tons of little bitty new plants, plus some one to two year olds. These were easily dealt with with the Rogue Hoe–chuck the wider end of the blade underneath the roots like you would with a mattock or hoe, then pull the entire plant up–often bringing other invasives like non-native grasses along for the ride. Bigger plants got the Pullerbear, with a slow but steady pressure that levered them right out of the soil. Over a period of a little under two hours, I managed to make a respectable pile of weeds.

And I made it all the way to the little stream! I wasn’t able to completely clear a section of the bank, but I flagged a few larger privet and bush honeysuckle that were just too much for me to take on myself. While I was grubbing around in the underbrush looking for new privet growth, I managed to find a few nice little gooseberries, probably Ribes missouriense, along with some common blue violets (Viola sororia) just popping up. Standing back from the area I’d cleared, I could definitely tell there was a difference.

The first of several Missouri gooseberry plants I found amid the invasive plants I removed.

I wrapped up the day by getting an impromptu tour of some of the native wildflowers in bloom with the manager of the nature center. It was a great chance to fill in some of those holes in my knowledge of Ozarks native flora, and nice to have a little time there that wasn’t spent working.

The afternoon went by all too quickly: I really do have fun with invasive plant removal, even more than getting native plants in the ground. But it also made me a bit homesick for Washington, and Willapa NWR, and all the work that still needs doing there. It’s okay, though. No matter where I go, there will always be someplace that can use my help, and people working toward a better world who welcome another pair of hands.

Before (left) and after (right), click for a larger version. I forgot to take a before picture of the exact location cleared, so the “before” is right next to it. But you get the idea.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#habitat restoration #invasive species #invasive plants #native plants #restoration ecology #ecology #botany #forestry #forest #trees #nature #Missouri #Ozarks #Audubon Society #Rolla Missouri #volunteering

[xenodile]

Alright, I finished Lies of P on stream today, so I guess I can give my review of it.

Very solid overall, strong early game makes an excellent first impression, with a few little nitpicks that turn into consistent frustrations as the game reaches its finale. The music and presentation is excellent, combat feels smooth and responsive, if you're familiar with Dark Souls and Bloodborne, Lies of P will feel comfortably familiar.

In terms of replay value from multiple runs, it's a bit of a mixed bag. The weapon modification system of mix and matching handles and blades to create totally new weapons to fit any kind of stat spread means Lies of P has the largest weapon catalogue of any Souls-like I've seen, so there's always a new weapon to try out whenever you start a new run. The flipside is that the game is completely linear and only has 2 endings, so if you're looking to vary up the sequence of your run you'll likely be disappointed.

The game is also quite challenging, and not always in the best way. Of the game's 13 mandatory major bosses, 6 have two health bars, three of which are fought back to back. Furthermore, the game touts its perfect guard system to force enemies to stagger and break their weapons, but by the halfway mark these systems feel less and less impactful. Later in the game, you encounter enemies with no weapons to break or weapons so durable that you'd have to do nothing but perfect block so many attacks, or so much poise that if feels like perfect blocking has no effect. It turns from a reward for good timing and skill to the bare minimum to progress as not perfect blocking will causes you to take tremendous amounts of damage from blocked attacks.

On the subject of the game's difficulty, Lies of P inherits Sekiro's perilous attacks, in which the enemy glows red and plays a sound effect to warn of an unblockable attack that can only be stopped by a Perfect Guard. While Sekiro gave the player many ways to deal with different types of unblockables with the memorable Mikiri Counter, jumping into a head stomp, and so on, fatal attacks in Lies of P are binary. Either you perfect block or you take unavoidable damage, and the timing on some of these attacks is very finicky. An overwhelming number of enemies in Lies of P have attack animations that consist of a laboriously slow wind up into near instantaneous active frames with no tell or warning. These attacks are effectively unreactable and so they only way to deal with them is to just...keep getting hit until you fish out the right parry timing by chance and then hope you can repeat it. It's very frustrating, especially when most bosses can have multiple attacks of this nature. Some enemies also have grabs or true unblockables, which cannot be blocked or perfect blocked, and the game does not give you the courtesy of warning you which ones, which can further add to the frustration.

The game's story is enjoyable and engaging, with plenty of little secrets to uncover and leads to pursue that give the player things to think about, the but its english localization is...subpar. While I cannot confirm it as such, I was told by someone in my chat that the game was machine translated, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. It's hardly the worst case ever seen, but the english script has some very awkward grammar and syntax in multiple areas, as well as clumsy word choice. The actual voice acting is excellent for most of the cast, it's specifically english grammar and word choice that seems off.

The game's greatest weakness is its pacing. As you near the 80% mark of the game, a significant change occurs in the game world that signifies the coming of the end, ramping up to a grand confrontation that just...drags on and on and on for far longer than it should. The final area has more checkpoints than any other zone in the game and is an agonizingly slow crawl through a generic gray environment with almost nonsensical enemy choice and placement. Progressing this one area took me almost 10 hours by itself when most other sections of the game took me 2 or 3 at most when I was thoroughly exploring and backtracking for items and sidequests, and it utterly ruins the sense of urgency the game's narrative attempts to instill in you when you arrive.

As I said before, I do like Lies of P quite a bit and would easily recommend it to anyone that enjoys games like Sekiro or Bloodborne, but it has glaring flaws that are all the more prominent when help up next to the game's good points. The frustrating, unfun bosses stick out when you remember all the incredibly fun bosses you fought before and after them. The slow dull irritating sections linger when compared to the faster paced and more engaging parts.

The game clocks in at a very impressive length if you're scrounging for secrets and optional areas, and given its overall quality I would say it is worth its $60 price tag, but only if you are already acquainted with other game in its style as I've mentioned previously.

#Lies of P

[stories-and-stars]

Dreams of Chaos

Laxus x fem!reader 

! warning episodes 75+ spoilers !

Reader is a powerful chaos mage, who leads a simple life for being one of the most powerful types of wizard. After asking a friend to lull them to sleep with magic, their life changes. 

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

The bell to the shops front door chimed in the summer air that rushed in. The owner set her tea down and scampered to the front counter, 

“ Hi, how can - Oh Hi, Mystogan” she playfully leaned on the desk. His eyes narrowed at her from under his mask. He placed a fanned staff on the wooden table she now stood upright at. Pieces of the wooden frame for the fanned magical webbing were broken off or in half.

“ I can repair this easily, I'll never know how you manage to break magic staffs so quickly. I'll just need a couple days” the short woman laughs at the cloaked mage in front of her. He simply nods.

“ you don't have to conceal who you are here, Jellal” she reassured him. 

The wizard’s blue hair fluffed up from under the removed hood, 

“ my apologies, I forget sometimes. This Earth’s Jellal is a infamous criminal. I have to be very careful.” 

She nodded in understanding, taking the staff from the counter top to her woodworking bench. She began to pull out various items she’d need to repair the wood and imbue it with magic again. The two talked while she quietly began working. He recalled his latest job that explained how the staff accidentally broke and she stifled a laugh. They caught up about things since the last time he’d been in with another of his tools for repair. He has a lot of entertaining stories that she listened to with great interest. She had none however. Simply talked about a local farmer who asked for a chair leg to be repaired. 

“ I am able to enchant entire forests at once if I so wish and I've become known as a simple woodworker for farmers chairs.” she laughed heartily. 

“ you can always join Fai-” she didn't let him finish,

“ this is the life I wanted”. He’d attempted to get her to join many times in the past. Would recall the antics he’d hear about his guild. He was almost never there himself but she knew he still cared and was happy to call himself a member. Always tried to emphasize the fact that she’d meet so many new people, that she wouldn't be alone anymore. 

She liked being alone. 

The stares and comments never come from an empty home. She liked the trees that enjoyed her company. The rain that lulled her to sleep and the storms that calmed her senses. Lightning was always her muse for poetry and storms her escape from reality or the comfort she needed to sleep. 

The blue haired wizard realized the mood had dropped, he replaced his hood and began to bid his old friend farewell. 

“ before you go, please put me to sleep for a while. there's been no storms in the area recently. I haven't been able to sleep much.” she pleaded. He nodded and followed her upstairs to her bedroom. She got comfortable and reached for his hand. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and she closed her eyes to a much needed rest. 

“ thank you” she mumbled as he took his leave. 

She opened her eyes to a bright sky and beautiful pond nearby. Birds singing in the trees and a small stream running into the pond. The sound of the water lightly running into the body of water below it. She closed her eyes and laid in the cool grass under her. As gorgeous as this scene is, she was hoping for a storm to rest during. Maybe a cosy overhang to sit under and listen to the rain fall while the lightning lit up the sky with its dance and power. 

“ for being my dream this isn't what I expected” she muttered to herself.

“ that would be because it’s mine “ a deep voice said from behind her. 

she never shot up so fast, her heart racing in her chest. She stood in a defensive stance and her hands lit up purple and black. she scanned the nearby tall grass and forested area for the owner of the voice until a tall blonde man stepped out. His physique almost throwing her off guard, wearing only black jeans rolled up slightly. She felt her cheeks flush, only for a moment. She regained her composure and demanded,

“ who are you?” 

He smirked and she nearly lost sense again. The hell y/n , she cursed internally. 

“ I was gonna ask the same thing, this is my sleep spell after all” his voice low and warning. she blushed again.

“ your sleep spell? I was put under one. “ she questioned.

“ you can put the magic away, I'm not going to attack. I've never seen magic that looks like that before” He didn't answer her question. For some reason she relaxed and lowered her hands, magic flowing away from them.

“ I'm laxus, I had a guild mate place me under a spell so I could rest. This spell. it would seem you’re friend sent you to the wrong one” he proposed.

“ perhaps but he’s a skilled wizard, something else must have happened. Magic is a fickle thing. My name is y/n” the h/c haired mage stood in place. The blonde man walked towards her and sat down next to the spot she had been laying in. hanging his hands off his knees.

“ well hello, y/n. it seems we are here together until the spell wears off for a while.” His eyes looking towards the pond and enjoying the scene. He had a dark tattoo on the side of his toned abs with what seemed like a special mark in the middle. she couldn't quite make out. she took a seat next to him and leaned back on her hands. 

“ what kind of magic do you use?’’ she inquired. he again ignored her question and asked his own.

“ what did you expect with your dream? what's wrong with mine?” he feigned hurt feelings. she laughed lightly and sat up a little more.

“ I wanted a lightning storm, there hasn't been any in my area and that's the only time I can sleep well.” she looked down at the pond to see brightly colored koi swimming freely in the clear water.

“ I love koi!” she accidentally blurted out. she cupped her face as her cheeks flushed red once again. she missed the small smile that graced the mans lips for only a moment at her outburst. 

“ I think they look very peaceful in calm waters, this is the same dreamscape I like to go every time. I find it very peaceful” he leaned back on his arms now and took in the warm sun rays with his eyes closed. she couldn't help but take in the sight. the way the sun fell over his hard features and softened them only slightly. how smooth his skin looked and how muscular he was. she caught herself starring and quickly looked away. not that it mattered as that image was burned into her mind now. new feelings came washing over her by his presence but he also calmed her. she felt no harm would come from him. 

“ do you want to walk by the water with me?” the words came courageously out of her mouth without her permission. his blue eyes opened softly and met her e/c ones. 

“ sure” his smooth voice answered with a small smile. he stood up and extended his hands out. she lightly placed hers in his and noticed how large his were to her much smaller ones. they seemed to fit almost perfectly. he helped her to her feet like she weighed nothing. she noticed a small tint on his cheeks before he looked away quickly and let go of her hands. they walked down the small overlook they were sitting on to the ponds edge down below. the grass going all the way to the edge, cold and plush like, it felt nice under her toes. she dipped her right foot in and it was surprisingly warm to the touch. before she could get the words out about it’s temperature. she felt a firm shove and into the water she went, clothes and all. resurfacing, the blonde man was laughing so hard he supported himself with his hands on his thighs. the young woman raised her hands from the water while he wasn't looking and used her magic to knock him into the water with a firm shove to his ass , which also looked firm, while he was hunched over. she let a giggle come over her and waited for him to resurface. after what seemed a little too long she tried to look under the waters surface for him. she jolted from the unexpected arm around her waist from behind. Her back was pressed against his hard torso and his grip around her waist was strong. his other hand snaked up her side and took a hold of her wrist. she stifled a moan from the sensualness of it. 

“ that wasn't very nice” his voice playful but deep and smooth. inviting she thought. her heart was racing from the proximity and his scent was intoxicating. 

“ and who started it? “ she teased back in a confident voice. he let out a low chuckle and it sent chills down her spine. 

“ that's fair” he released her and swam to the shore. pulling himself out of the water. his shoulder muscles rippling from the action. she followed behind and lifted herself out. her clothes stuck to every curve of her fit frame. He watched her walk over to the nearby low tree branches and begin removing said clothing. his face turned beet red and he turned away.

“ Hey! what are you doing?” he said with his back to her. she laughed and replied,

“ relax, I'm just taking my shirt and shorts off. you won't see anything. thanks to someone my clothes are soaked. hang your pants up too”. he realized she was right and stripped his jeans off to his black boxer shorts underneath. hanging them on the tree to dry. as she tried to wring her hair out slightly he took in her slim, strong features and how damn good her ass looked in the simple black set she had on. 

“ you didn't happen to dream this place up with a hot spring?” she raised on eyebrow.

“umm... I think I actually did, up the hill a little ways” he pointed up. she waived her hand out for him to lead the way. he walked passed her and she followed behind. after a short walk around some trees they came up on what looked like the other side of the small waterfall to a bubbling hot spring. she gleefully giggled and sank her body into the warm waters. relaxing against the rocks in the water she let her muscles un-tense. she sat with her eyes closed for a while. hearing him sink into the water too, they just sat and enjoyed the feeling. enjoyed each other being there too. she could feel the water move beside her but she didn't open her eyes. she felt him move in the water until he was in front of her legs. he slid his hand from her ankle up to the outside of her thigh and let it settle on her hip. her breathing ragged and he knew it. she kept her eyes closed but her mouth was now parted open. he placed his other hand above her shoulder on the rock. his body was between her legs as he hovered his lips just over her collar bone, not touching. her hands reached up and found his waist. she held her hands there and felt his hard abs flex under her touch. he squeezed her hip where his hand still was and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. this caused him to let out a ragged breath against her skin. 

“ meet me here again, I'm waking up” he pleaded before he vanished. his warmth left with him as she sat there red faced. 

“ What was that!” she yelled, she grabbed her chest and felt her heart pounding. she calmed down slightly and felt herself beginning to wake up. soon she left the dreamscape too. she woke up in her bedroom. his strong hand still felt as if it was on her hip. she sat up and walked to her bathroom. she could see the pink tint to her own cheeks and threw cold water on her face. 

“laxus, where have I heard that name before” she thought. she grabbed a small bag and headed into the nearby town. enjoying the long walk to try and clear her mind. she came up to the small magic shop in town. she remembered instantly why she never does this. the other shop goers shielded their children and quickly left the shop. she knew her magical energy could be felt, it was too powerful not to. everyone reacted the same way. cower, say something about it feeling dark or evil. then she realized that laxus never did. never once said anything. like It wasn't even there. the thought made her face heat up and she quickly made her way to the spell books. she found the tome she was looking for and brought it up to the counter. as she rifled to find her wallet the shop keeper stepped back from the desk. 

“ fi-fifty thousand jewel” he stuttered. she sighed at his fear and placed the money on the counter. taking the book and leaving without another word. the interaction brought down her high mood but she quickly got back to her secluded cabin and sat down with her tome. a sleeping spell tome. if she put her mind to it, she was sure she could learn a couple new spells. one she found very entertaining.  

#laxus #fairytail #laxus x reader #laxus dreyar #magic #dragon slayer

[stephspurs]

hi, welcome back! can i please request one for jordan henderson where he asks her to buy whatever she wants for her birthday (with his money, as a gift) and she buys herself a necklace with his initials. he goes crazy when he sees it and it’s all cute and fluff<3 (this is actually tiktok-inspired!) thank you!

I got carried away & put my own little spin on it...hope you love it! please do let me know x

call it what you want with Jordan Henderson

I don’t want to remember life before him, before us. Of course, I do - how could I forget? After years of cataclysmically bad press surrounding my latest two albums, subsequent hate and the overwhelming threat of irrelevance that pulled me under and kept me indoors and out of the public eye for months on end - I stumbled, quite literally, into my Jordan. 

It was late November, cold and dark in dreary Liverpool. Don’t ask why I was there - perhaps it was because I had a friend living in Merseyside who promised I could fly under the radar because “no one here cares about anything other than the pub or football, or watching the football at the pub”. Unsurprisingly, I became one of these people because there I was at the local, carrying myself a pint of apple cider with just a little bit of ice in it and bumping into Liverpool’s captain. At first I kept moving, after apologising, with my eyes set and keen on the table with my friend waiting for me with her mouth screwed up trying not to laugh at my well known clumsiness. 

I’m not sure if it was the yellow lights in the garden area or the beanie that covered what I now know to be his dirty blonde, yet forever golden, hair - the warmth that encapsulated my soul with just a look in his eyes and a mumble of “no problems” from his mackem mouth was enough to set my grey world alight. You can call it what you want, but this was the exact moment my world changed. 

My baby's fly like a jet stream

High above the whole scene

Loves me like I'm brand new

After months of relentless messages and lowkey, albeit it slightly underground, dates I eventually gave in to what was inevitable - he was my person. He taught me how to be loved irrespective of what has been tied to my tired heart. He loved me like I was brand new and in a way, I was. I was brand new to him. I was brand new to us and our snowballing love which, like its namesake, seemed to grow at an immeasurable rate. 

He respected my boundaries with the media and press, I knew who he was on our first date - he was honest and told me about his profession, I was honest and told him about my career as an artist. He asked what I was doing in little old England, I told him I needed a break from myself. He made sure I felt safe enough with him that I could be blissfully unaware of the outside world, if it was my choosing to do so. In saying all of this, I also admitted my own mistakes with many of my past relationships and owned up to all of the burned bridges left in my path, however I was sure that in my past life I must have done atleast one thing right to end up in his path. This world may be a mess but laughing with him under the covers on a mundane Tuesday evening made everything ok. His starry eyes truly do brighten up my darkest nights. You can call it what you want, but I know that this is simple, pure and honest. 

I want to wear his initial

On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

11 months after that first spill, of both my drink and my heart, it was my birthday. We had agreed no presents - from both of us, for each other, for all occasions. This birthday of mine was the first in many years where I truly didn't have a wish for anything different than what was currently in my life. This birthday was also the first in many years where my wish was for someone else, for Jordan, to feel the same happiness that I do every time I look at him. 

He had respected my boundaries with going public and never pressured me, we had kept this love bubble secure for 11 months already - with only our nearest and dearest being allowed in. I supported him wholeheartedly in every venture, both professionally and personally in private. If anything that the last almost-year had shown me was just how much it meant that he had taken the time to get to know me, and care about me enough to do so. No one else had ever taken the time. 

So there I was, the evening of my 29th birthday, sitting upstairs in my dressing room while my friends and his - our friends - sat around the table downstairs laughing and chattering and reminiscing on life both before and after the amalgamation of both Jordan and I. Looking at myself in the mirror, for the first time not wanting anything to change, wishing I could freeze this moment in time forevermore. I didn't even hear Jordan come into the room let alone come up behind me, wrapping both arms around my shoulders and resting his left cheek to my right one, both of us breathing each other in. 

“I have something for you” I whispered into the silence. 

“But it’s your birthday, why am I getting a gift” He whispered back. 

“This is for me, as much as it is for you” 

In the reflection of the mirror, he watched me pull the drawer out and pick up a chain. I looked up and held his eye contact. He held out his hand and I dropped the chain in his palm. He pulled his chest away from my back, pulled my hair to one side and looked back at me in the mirror. 

Slowly he grabbed the other end of the chain, brought it around my front and laid it across my collarbones. Focusing on closing the dainty clasp and settling his breathing, he took a moment to himself before looking at the reflection once again. Staring back at him against my skin, the initial J. Simple, pure and honest. You can call it what you want - it was love. 

#football imagine #stephspurs #stephwrites #jordan henderson #jordan henderson imagine #football one shot

[iamthenerdqueen]

The Red String of Faith - The Mall Episode: One-Shot

Idol!AteezXOCs Soulmates!ot8AteezXOCs OCXOC Slight Social Media AU!

slight twigger warnings: SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER!!! Polyamory, group of 10, two OC's -feel free to replace one OC with yourself if you'd like- , listen this is an idea me and my best friend had and is something for fun read at own risk, not edited as always, also we are starting to explore themes such as bxb and gxg if thats not for you, this story may not be for you.

A/N: Hi all, this one shot goes with our story but is just a fun filler and little something something on the side. You can read this outside of the story or not read it at all. Both are okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist

Going to the mall was a common thing for Lia and Lyra, just not this mall. After their flight back from spending time with their soulmates Ateez at their last US concerts, the two girls had decided to spend one extra day in Charlotte before heading back to Columbia. 

Being tired and honestly, a little sad at having to go separate ways with the boys, the girls decided that the only thing that could make them feel better was to go find some stores to waste their money in. What did this really mean, Lia vlogging a trip to the mall and buying Kpop stuff even though they just were with their idol soulmate/boyfriends less than 14 hours ago. 

“Hi Bunnies!” Lia was holding her small vlogging camera and waving while they were sitting in her car outside the mall. “We are outside the mall, and as boring as that sounds it's fun to us because our local mall has nothing.” 

“That’s not true, it has the creepy Aeropostale and once upon a time it had a macaron stand that was amazing,” Lyra chimed in from her spot in the passenger seat. Lia quickly got her in the shot as she spoke. 

“So, like I said, nothing,” Both girls laughed at the dig at their local mall, home was home but no one really bragged about living in or around Columbia, SC. “Our goal today, find the Noeasy, or Christmas EveL albums because I want them. And Levanter for Lyra. I also may get a couple Seventeen albums if I can find some I really want.”

The pair was walking into the mall now, and one thing Lyra would never get used to is the looks of other people when they see someone vlogging in public. She couldn’t really blame them, she would also be confused and maybe weirded out if she had seen someone vlogging before Lia started doing social media and streaming as a career. 

“Okay, guys, after our first few random stores and a popcorn break, we have made it to the FYE. And here is the selection,” Lia was filming the standard K-pop section the store had, after getting the okay from the manager on duty. 

They had a decent amount, some of the more popular albums and with a healthy selection, The largest amount was BTS albums to no one's surprise, the group was huge and it was one of the easiest to find. 

The girls were a bit disappointed right off the bat, they found the Noeasy album but none of the others in this section of the store. “Okay, they had this one from Stray Kids, but that was it. Oh, look Ateez! I’d get this one, but we both already have it, so not this trip.” Lia showed a Zero: Fever Part. 1 album, at the beginning of the area. 

“Oh, I think Lyra found some more over here,” her assumption was right as she made her way to where Lyra was at a smaller Kpop display, where there were some more Stray Kids albums and the first Seventeen albums they had seen in the store. 

“They have Seventeen, I didn’t see any others over yander. Oh! And they have some lightsticks behind the register,” Lyra pointed out both the album and the lightstick from afar. 

Honestly, they considered the first one a bit of a bust only coming out with one of the albums they were looking for and a seventeen album that Lia had picked up after all. They even joked a bit about getting the random light stick that was in the store, but neither were fans of Super Junior. 

“Okay,” Lyra had taken over the filming for Lia as they had sat back in the car to do an unboxing of the albums Lia purchased. “I’m hoping to get a Han photocard, as always, but I am also looking for Felix to have one of each member. And I know, I know, I could just order everything offline but listen I like the instant gratification that comes with picking them up from the store and our tradition is to open the albums in the car.” 

Lia was slowly opening her album and slapped her hand aggressively down over the photo card not to spoil anything for herself or any viewers. With some caution, Lia slowly pulled all of the cards up, still keeping them hidden from view. 

“Okay, first one….” She paused for dramatic effect before turning the first card over to reveal a picture of Bang Chan. 

“What a cutie, very much love him, but I have like twelve of him,” this was an over-exaggeration, Lia only had three of him but it seemed like she pulled him in every album she got, so every time she got a photo card of him she shouted out some exaggerated number in a fake complaint. 

“And we have, A HAN!” Lia was actually jumping in her seat with excitement over the card. “Look, look, look, my little dude. Hahaha, I could just squish him to bits,” she was yelling but in a way that made Lyra cackle from behind the camera. 

The girls finished the vlog by going to a much smaller Kpop shop in Charlotte and finding a much better selection. They ended up getting everything they had been searching for and matching SKZ keychains. 

Two days later, the LA Vlog was posted and a week after that, the Mall vlog went up. It was considerably shorter than the LA content and honestly, that was fine as Lia was able to do her weekly streams at the moment and was working on the long-form series for when they joined the boys again. 

What neither of them expected was Wooyoung calling Lia at 9 AM the following morning. 

“Hello?” Lia answered the phone, she had only woken up about 10 minutes before so her voice was still rough from her sleep. 

“YAH!” Wooyoung’s shout got even Lyra's attention, who made her way from the kitchen in their apartment to the living room where Lia was.

“What is the matter in here?” Lia just shrugged in response to Lyra's questions, about to ask when Wooyoung started speaking again.

“STRAY KIDS ALBUMS? You traitors, this is the biggest betrayal of my life. You looked at OUR ALBUM, OURS! But you got THREE of theirs, I swear i’m fighting them all the next time I see any of them. I thought you were ATINY. DOES THAT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?” Wooyoung was still yelling and rapidly switching from English to Korean. 

The girls were dying, they were laughing so hard at the man’s over-dramatic ass. To the point where he could hear their laughter over the phone and Lyra thought she was going to pass out because she couldn’t stop laughing at his reactions. 

“Don’t laugh, I'm serious. Don’t make me get Hongjoongie-hyung to scold you both,” Wooyoung’s threat didn’t scare either of them in the slightest, it was a bluff. It had to be, there was no way that he would actually scold them for buying another group's album and merch. 

“Oh no,” Lyra said, showing her phone to Lia at the text Hongjoong had just sent in the group chat. He was indeed pissed. They all were a little bit, but he was demanding that Lyra call him so that he can also speak to them. 

Wooyoung, now smug as hell, hung up his call with Lia saying he would let Hongjoong handle them. He was a little too giddy about the fact that his leader was about to scold them, something the rest of their soulmates had experienced at one time or another. 

Was this slight possessiveness hot, absolutely. Were they a little scared of Hongjoong at the moment, very much so. 

Lyra, not wanting to make him any more upset, face-timed Hongjoong. It took one ring before the screen began connecting over to him.

Once the connection was stable, his face appeared on the screen and the look he had was nowhere near amused.

“I was under the impression, the two of you were Atiny? I must have been mistaken,” Hongjoong was very calm, it had both girls' full attention on Lyra’s iPhone. 

“We are Atiny b-'' Lyra tried to explain but Hongjoong just held up a finger when she began to talk. 

“I understand that Stray Kids Make very nice music, Seventeen as well. I have to admit that we are very attached to our Atiny,” Hongjoong paused and pulled back a little, the girls could see several of the other boys sitting near him on the coach he was on. All of them had a similar look on their faces, very serious and stern.

Both girls had several thoughts going through their heads, but the one they had in common was the thought of just how hot they were being jealous. 

“We are even more possessive of each other, I think people have picked up on that here and there, but we do not share well at all. Are we not your favorite idols?” Hongjoong asked them in the same calm manner as before. 

“We understand that you are protective and you are our favorite boys in this whole world,” Lyra began, answering her soulmate, “We are Ainty, but we also are Stays and Carats and Army. We got so incredibly lucky finding all of you, but it may not have happened if we hadn’t also been fans of those other groups.”

Lyra knew the culture was slightly different for K-stans, but she and everyone she knew who were fans of Kpop loved multiple groups. 

“If I hadn't had some very good friends introduce me to a group called GOT7, I never would have spared a second glance to Korean pop. If Lia hadn’t stumbled upon a video of Lee Felix being cute, I never could have convinced her to listen to Ateez. We will always pick you, as our favorite boys, as our choice, believe in you and route for you above all else. I promise that.” Lyra became serious in her last couple of words, they both knew it. 

The boys also picked up on the sincerity of what both of the girls were saying by this. Lia, while not speaking, knew that they understood that it went for both of them. 

“You’re our soulmates, and you work very hard. We will always support your music and cheer you on.” Lia added with a small smile before continuing, “We will stream and vote for you, that is unless you’re up against Stray Kids, then I might have to pull for the other team.” 

All the boys groaned and let out complaints in a mixture of English and Korean, while the girls giggled. 

“I’d vote for you over Stray Kids, but if it were GOT7…” Lyra stopped there with a small grin on her face. 

“Hey, now we can show you our cute tattoos!” Lia said as she shifted some of the bracelets she always wore on her left wrist to show the small symbol on her wrist, it was like the inside of a Nachimbong with the iconic S at the very bottom of the symbol. 

Their faces morphed from understanding to confusion and then Hongjoong made a face, poking his tongue into his cheek. 

Lyra from beside her pulled up her pant leg to show her ankle to show a small green bird there. 

Then without warning, San pulled the phone from Hongjoong’s grasp and began speaking, “When are you going to get Ateez tattoos? Cover those with us.” He wasn’t joking in the slightest but the girls couldn’t stop laughing at the suggestion.  Maybe, just maybe they would think about getting an Ateez tattoo.

They both were shaking their heads in response, they wouldn’t cover up their happy little reminders of their introductions to K-pop. Even as the boys began to make a fuss again, their renewed frustrations, the girls couldn’t take the situation seriously anymore. 

Eventually, Hongjoong just hung up the phone and the boys spent the rest of their night pouting. 

A/N: We will be back with our next chapter soon! Get ready for another round of goodbyes as the girl got to join the boys in Europe then through to Korea.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez ot8 #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez soulmate au #ateez x oc #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ot8 #ateez seonghwa #wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #yeosang #mingi #jongho #yunho #ateez smau

[chertila3000]

I decided to draw myself an OC in the style of Hell Boss and Hazbin Hotel. And now I’ll tell you a little about each. Well, since I couldn’t decide which species I see myself as, I drew them all. Get ready, this post will be long.

I haven’t come up with names for everyone yet, so for now they will all be “Chertila” I started from the very bottom and took the imp. An ordinary resident of the circle of anger, who took a design course, earned some extra money and was able to move to Impsiti, where she bought a nice and cozy room, continuing to develop her client base. Sometimes he works part-time at a local coffee shop when there are no orders. He also enjoys shooting in his spare time, preferring rifles and crossbows.

Along with the imps, hellhounds are located in the hierarchy. I'm bad at conveying sizes, but she is a small black Spitz. I haven't decided on a specific breed yet (German or Pomeranian). She mostly hangs out at Bi's parties, where she can eat for free and even spend the night. He makes money mainly by drawing portraits or drawings to order at these same parties. She is very poorly socialized, she likes communication and the presence of someone nearby, but due to a past toxic relationship she is very afraid of starting and becoming attached, and then being abandoned again, so she simply prefers to be unnoticed in the crowd and draw while incendiary concerts of the Lord of Gluttony.

On the step above are the succubi. This person is a little different from her relatives in that she does not really like to get to the surface and seduce mortals, as well as engage in constant fucking. Instead, she prefers to draw horney art, animations, and write vulgar fanfiction based on her favorite characters. She also practices tattooing and draws marks on succubi in the groin area and on the tailbones, thanks to which they are saturated with vital energy when making love to people. He also works part-time as a consultant at the s*x toy store Asmodea.

I probably got confused in the sequence, but next I drew this Baphomet from Leni's circle. She really looks more like a lamb, but it doesn’t matter. Her work is as creative as that of previous OCs, she works in an architectural agency and does landscape design. Mainly deals with projects in his own circle and for the circle of gluttony because Bea really likes unusual and bright projects, which make her territory so special. He makes good money from this, and in his free time he streams games.

Well, the next one is this deep-sea fish from the circle of envy, which I was inspired by the twins from the last episode of the boss. She is a member of a theater and dance club and, as you know, dances. But because the creatures of this circle are like their sin, their group is not so united and friendly, they are ruled by unhealthy competition, which is why they often miss rehearsals and do not participate in competitions, or do not strive for the first roles. She is depressed by this whole atmosphere, she suffers from damage to costumes and direct harm to her body, but she herself is torn with envy of the talent of other colleagues, whose conscience allows them to add laxatives or spoil a beautiful dress. Why doesn't she leave? It's simple - all groups are like this, she has changed them more than once and has encountered these problems everywhere, but she loves to dance too much and loves the stage too much, but she is also too weak and inexperienced for a solo, so she just enjoys dancing in someone else's shadow and hopes that someday her faint light will be noticed.

Circle of greed. I thought for a long time between a shark and a dinosaur, but the latter have been my love since childhood. Despite her soft-looking plumpness and pink color scheme, she is quite hot-tempered. She can restrain herself from insulting some no-name on the street (if she is in a good mood), but she often breaks down at all sorts of trolls on the Internet. In addition to her temper, she is also quite sentimental and often overwhelms herself with all sorts of sad thoughts, which then makes her cry. In such cases, he likes to burden himself with work in order to drown out his feelings. She works as an accountant for various mafiosi, she is not associated with any group and only provides accountant services and the preparation of documents and reports, so she lives in relative safety. She loves baking and baking, which often causes her favorite shorts to rip.

Well, the final hierarchy of this series is goetia She is a young raven, most likely one of Paimon's many children (I did not take a specific demon from the goetia). Her path is poisons, potions and black magic. A pure Slytherin graduate. A book lover like Stolas, but mainly because of his young age, he reads gay fan fiction, which the family is not happy about, but because... She is one of the youngest, she is often bullied, so she does what she wants. He plays the violin and piano, but secretly learns the guitar. Drawing is also part of her education, but she is already tired of endless jugs, but drawing comics or art for her favorite works really pleases her immortal soul.

Well, the first and last representative of the universe is a sinner. I didn’t take the over of the lords because they are the same sinners, only much cooler and stronger. This seemingly charming girl got here because she was involved in Satanism, and also because of a bunch of crap in her life she was supervised by Roskomnadzor. After going to Hell, he lives like a potato moth. To avoid hanging himself from boredom, he draws. Fan of Velvet because... is a fashion lover. He dreams of working for her, but understands how dangerous it can be, because she looks like Cruela. She's also a fan of video games. She heard about Charlie's Hotel and suggests that redemption is possible, but even if it works, she will never agree to it. She is an atheist in life, and even being here in Hell and knowing about the existence of Heaven, she does not want to go there. She despises religion and considers it two-faced and mercantile, she associates it with a bunch of Popes who organized bloody crusades, priests of fagots, and an insanely huge number of domestic tyrants and fanatics. And Lucifer is her crush.

That's all, thank you if you were able to cope with this. I also noticed that, as is typical for every creative person, I put a piece of myself into each version of the OC, be it clothes from my wardrobe, a character trait, dreams, fears, desires or life position. In general, I sorted myself out for my sins

#ocs #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #oc helluva boss #oc hazbin hotel

[vienecash300]

FUCK DARREN CHAMBERS!!!!…this phrase while entirely meaningless to the vast majority of you, it has remained a raucous inside joke in my fluctuating circle going on 3 years. As I’m told the two MCs behind the 27 September release “Float Trip” were on…well…a float trip when a one of them in a state of vicious hangover noticed a sign advertising a local political hopeful by that name. When one read the sign out loud, the other drunkenly exclaimed through sun-burned lips “Man, FUCK DARREN CHAMBERS”

CornBread217 has been a fixture in the Springfield music scene for over 20 years not only as an artist and beat-maker, but resident hip hop guru and mentor to the fledgling. A1Muzik has been on the scene less time, but not for lack of trying. Both artist have distinctive voices that break the monotony of modern rap and deliver vocal magic carpet to float over while they move through bars flawlessly.

The juxtaposition of the artists two very different deliveries is not a random occurrence. The two voices serve to compliment each other with great aplomb. The majority of the tracks see Bread starting the lyrical acrobatics with a smooth baritone the will flood your girls basement. His voice and style bring each of the tracks he begins to a place of near climax while A1 comes in releasing an angry, yet somehow smooth lyrical clit rub that gets the sonic G spot squirting.

It is worth noting that as an artist I have EPs with both artists, both released in 2020. WeirdMarc300 and CornBread217 released “Welcome to the Zu” 11 Nov 2020 on Records L’Estrange.

Later that year, despite delays A1Muzik and WeirdMarc300 released “A Very Pandemic Christmas” Dec 4, 2020.

“AVPC” went on to stream an astonishing 167,000 times on its first day before being pulled by Spotify for suspicious activity.

“Float Trip” is a simple concept. Two rappers embark on a float trip. For those unaware of the concept, a float trip is an orchestrated traversing of a river via flotation device. The participants historically imbibe alcohol , marijuana and often LSD in a typically successful attempt to heighten the merriment.

Bread’s production is obvious from the first few seconds of the opening track, “On Tha Way”. Bread taught himself to play piano while locked away during the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic. His dreamy keyboard and synth is sexily complimented by steady bass drum and rapid-fire hi hat. The track throughly references Midwest favorite vacation spot Merrimac Caverns and the eponymous river. A1 starts the track as the two step-by-step the trip to the trip. Which typically involves the “roll up”.

At 5 minutes and 4 seconds “Shenanigans” the tapes second track follows the dreaminess of the first and gives us out much awaited sample of Bread’s distinctive crooning. “We havin’ a night/ the drinks, and the dab, and the white” raps A1 in the first verse utilizing his zero-chill delivery he has become known for. The sung hook is an earworm that you won’t soon forget.

By now the tempo of the EP expectedly picks up as we find ourselves in the midzees of the album. A groovy ass guitar sings in the background lovingly to well-programmed snares and bass. Bread flexes his lyrical muscle with the expected ease, at one point purposely slaughtering Cardi Bs iconic phrase “Okurt” for both ill punctuation and comedic effect.

Bellowing bass drum accompanies quick snare and some tightly controlled bells for “Just Got Service”. The track is an homage of sort to the fact that finding cell service in the rural areas typically associated with rivers can be tough. The synthesizers bells greatly mimic a cell phone alert. It’s genius and this track is my favorite. Just short of the 1:30 mark A1 jumps in with a stellar verse referencing both international anti-terror operative Jack Bauer and “The guilty conscience of a cheating whore” in less than 15 seconds. The abrupt ending leaves the listener wanting to replay it and in the streaming world of modern music, that’s where the money is made.

The final track samples a chorus of children and mixes in some violin and properly dispersed 808 bass in order to bring the record full circle with the all to catchy phrase we talked about earlier. “FUCK DARREN CHAMBERS”. The track gives us the EPs only feature a verse from Springfield Rap mainstay Deezy The Paperboy. Entitled “The Ballad of Billy Bubble”, it punctuates the album perfectly showing Bread’s uncanny ability to to pick track position to perfection. Known as much for his singing as his rapping DTPB assimilates into the CornBread/A1 fold perfectly. His voice is vaguely reminiscent of 2000s era NYC rappers…think A-Mafia of Dipset. He delivers bar after bar changing the tempo twice effortlessly.

At just over 18 minutes the “Float Trip EP” does not desire to take up your time. It gets to the point yet somehow makes a clear and undeniable concept without smacking one over the face with a concept like WeirdMarc300s first EP, “Halloween on Latte Street” a 4 track dedication to Pumpkin Pie Spice and Serial Murder, heavy on the former. Bread and A1 really did it. After 2 years of hilarity and purposely bad-edited memes starring the 2 as, among other characters, Doc Brown and Marty McFly, we have a project. Available only on Bandcamp as of this publication “Float Trip” , gets my seal of approval. That is not 1, not 2, but all 3 (100 emojis) 💯💯💯. The brevity of the tape only contributes to its listenability. The CornBread217 production rivals one of my faves Earl Sweatshirt as Random Black Guy. I hope people spin this diamond of record around the world. It has the potential to tickle the fancy of all hip hop and many lovers of other music. The tape is stellar. Great attention was paid to never abandoning the concept making Bread, in my humble opinion a major force in the development of concept albums. Them niggas snapped. PERIOD. Go cop it.

Deezy Da Paperboy in January 2023

https://cornbread217.bandcamp.com/album/float-trip-e-p

#bandcamp #CornBread217 #A1Muzik #DeezyDaPaperboy #float trip #music #rap #weirdmarc300 #MarJac