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#layout precision
techdriveplay · 23 days
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HP SitePrint Launches in Australia to Boost Construction Industry Productivity 
Today HP Inc announced the availability of HP SitePrint in Australia, following a successful general availability in five regions with a proven track record across North America and Europe. HP SitePrint is a robotic solution that prints the most complex construction site layouts with pinpoint accuracy, empowering construction pros with up to ten times the productivity of traditional chalk-line…
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agueforts · 1 month
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just an appreciation post for the set itself. my GOD have they outdone themselves this time
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sonic-adventure-3 · 8 months
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4-E is insane omg. sonic explodes and dies. also the spindash in levels clearly designed for it goes so hard. the level has a shit ton of paths and rails and shit to spindash off for insane height over the entire fucking thing. it’s so good if i were better at this game and were it not 4am i know i would spend so much time optimizing that. all the cyberspace levels i’ve tried have an indescribable sense of freedom i don’t think i’ve seen in a sonic game. not that i’ve really played enough not-spinoff sonic games to know, but like, it’s a totally different beast compared to the base game cyberspace.
WAIT I KNOW. IT REMINDS ME OF MARBLE BLAST!!!! genuinely while it’s still definitely sonic and you can play it sonic-y, some of these levels almost feel like something out of marble blast. it’s not 1:1 of course, but it’s the best comparison i can think of
unforgivable that it doesn’t restart the timer when you wipe out despite there being no checkpoints though. the difficulty is something i can acclimate to but the lack of a quick restart or restart upon death feature sucks
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vinelark · 11 months
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Your WoH fic is one of my all time favorite fics (which I coincidentally reread yesterday) and I recently got back into Timkon hell for the first time since like 2017 so discovering your Timkon fic today made me super happy! Your works in every fandom have been consistently amazing! Whenever I see a work is by Sundiscus, I know it's going to be a good one. I hope you have a great day!
thank you so much!!! this is so so nice of you to say. i also love that you got dragged back to timkon after so long and get to read new content for them now. one of my best friends @90kon was into timkon ages ago and even tried to pitch them to me in like 2020 and it went right over my head, but now i get to witness their timkon renaissance too and that’s been incredibly fun. the gift (ship) that keeps on giving 💪
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ne0nwithazero · 1 year
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Random Neocities update! :'D
Took a whole day to set up and figure out what did what, but I FINALLY got functioning lightbox thingy and it's already mobile friendly which is great :'D
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Random example art that's featured on the main page, but now rather than awkwardly opening an image link with the art in a new tab, the image will open on the website itself 😌💕
Bad side of this is that I have to completely rewrite the code for my pre-existing galleries if I want the lightboxes to work on them :') not looking forward to doing all that. I only did the Sewing category so far
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vorbisx · 10 months
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Replacing physical buttons and controls with touchscreens also means removing accessibility features. Physical buttons can be textured or have Braille and can be located by touch and don't need to be pressed with a bare finger. Touchscreens usually require precise taps and hand-eye coordination for the same task.
Many point-of-sale machines now are essentially just a smartphone with a card reader attached and the interface. The control layout can change at a moment's notice and there are no physical boundaries between buttons. With a keypad-style machine, the buttons are always in the same place and can be located by touch, especially since the middle button has a raised ridge on it.
Buttons can also be located by touch without activating them, which enables a "locate then press" style of interaction which is not possible on touchscreens, where even light touches will register as presses and the buttons must be located visually rather than by touch.
When elevator or door controls are replaced by touch screens, will existing accessibility features be preserved, or will some people no longer be able to use those controls?
Who is allowed to control the physical world, and who is making that decision?
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gender-euphowrya · 7 days
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this is such a Nothing problem but i'm still a bit mad about the creepy factor of liminal spaces being replaced by generic AND THERE'S A BIG WEIRD MONSTER CHASING YOU in mainstream depictions of like the backrooms & all
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microartservice · 8 months
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California, renowned for its tech-savvy environment and innovation hubs, is at the forefront of the electronics industry. To bring cutting-edge electronic products to life,
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shadowtriovibes · 1 year
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it's a sign of the times
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
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moonastro · 5 months
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Pick a Picture
--𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊--
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left to right(top)-> 1,2
left to right(bottom)-> 3,4
sidenote- do y'all like the four picture layout or would you prefer more pictures?? let me know to keep or switch it up a bit>
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.
°don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 1-
✦ they love how you break the norm and are not afraid to do your own thing.
✦ love how nurturing you are and how you always help out other people- this can be helping the homeless, helping stray animals, donations, charity work.
✦ they love how you care and provide so much care for your loved ones- they view you as someone who would literally leave everything to fly across the globe to help out a friend or family member and then come home the next day 😂.
✦ they love how careful you are though- like you aren't the who who wings everything- you plan every precise detail and like that about you.
✦ yeah they love how you take time with certain projects- how you are patient with everyone. they love the nurturing side of you.
✦ you arent easily distracted, they love how when you choose something, you stick by it. like whenever you promise something you do it- i feel like they love telling their secrets to you because you are so good with keeping them.
✦ they might like your hair- they may prefer it when it is down and not tied- might be their preference.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 2-
✦ love your work ethic- love your work in general. they love how you work for yourself and not rely on someone else. they see you as a person who strives for success and independence and they love seeing you earn your own possessions and finances.
✦ they love your compassion, how you let go of stuff that no longer serves you.
✦ they might love how easily you fit into new environments. like you may join a new class and within like 10 minutes you make a new friend. your just really likable and they lovvee that.
✦they love how straightforward you are-how you tell the truth. they love the honesty- there is truly no lies that travel from your mouth.
✦ they might like how you are not too introverted nor too extraverted- you are just the perfect amount of both which i think makes them want to be more around you.
✦ you believe in standing up for yourself and being a good person at the same time which your fs highly respects and finds it unique.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 3-
✦ they love your goofiness. lol, they love how you just liven the whole room and never appear awkward. like you may just always know what to say at the perfect time which your fs will find fascinated.
✦ they find your mind very interesting. you might have questionable ideas or thoughts but they make really good sense in a way??? they find it very interesting and find it appealing.
✦ yeah, they will find your soul very freeing, which will motivate them to become more free as well. i feel like you will be an inspiration to them, you will be a role model to them which of course they find it very attractive.
✦ woww, they literally love your body movements- how you walk, move your hands, move your body- just anything to do with moving your body, they looove. you might actually like to/ do dance so they might love it when you dance for them or when you dance for fun (a scene of someone dancing in the kitchen while making breakfast just popped up😂)-take it as you may.
✦ they love how studious you are. you might like to read, write, study etc. whatever it may be they find it attractive.
✦ i feel like they might love your back. like they love when you show your back off, maybe by wearing a dress that shows off your back and such. they might actually love the way you dress yourself up like they love the neatness and classiness of outing clothes.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 4-
hellooo pile 4, welcome!!!
✦ random, but i feel like your fs will like the little bursts of anger that you let out sometimes when you get annoyed or angry- lol they find it cute. aww.
✦ you may be very good at seeing the truth, seeing the reality of a situation/or person. like i feel like you are a person who tells a friend to not trust a certain person, a few months later that same friend comes running back to you saying you were right!!!
✦ they love how easily you adapt to a new/unknown situation. like whenever they suggest something you are like 'yeah, sure lets do it!'.
✦ they love how in control you are in your life. how responsible you are.
✦ they love how you accept other people's advice and how you don't criticize others' opinions. they love the generosity.
✦ i feel like they will find your hands attractive- you might have beautiful hands.
✦ they might find it attractive when you act the bigger person. like when someone tries to start some argument with you, you just exit without it becoming heated. like you just know when to leave a situation to prevent any conflict.
that's it everyone!!❣️ thank you so so much for reading this, i am so grateful for all of you🤍 feel free to interact with this post and don't be shy to share some thoughts or ideas
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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months
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Come After Dark [Loki x Fem.Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: You swallow your nerves and take Loki up on his seductive invitation. (w/c 3.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Mild somnophillia. Language. Mild angst to fluff. Sub(ish) Loki.
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The hair on your arms felt like needles, every ghostlike pricking shiver vibrating invisible strands. Was it cold tonight? You couldn’t tell. Heat thumping low in your belly blossomed as you made your way through the midnight gloom of the tower. Shadows danced the walls, stretching and fading in haunting rhythm. Come after dark, he’d said.
You shivered again, recalling the way his breath had caressed your jaw, a palm spread on his chest against porcelain shirt buttons. His questioning stare had moved from your hand to your eyes, his brows a line of reluctant, smouldering resignation. He had left you in that hallway, music beating a solid bass through the wall against your spine. The words that had circled in your mind ever since fluttered back around the endless loop.
I will cease my wooing of you, since that is what you wish, he had murmured, as he unfurled your fingers from his chest. Loki then raised your knuckles to his lips. Parted, only slightly. But if you decide you want this, whenever you want this, he’d whispered against the skin. Come after dark.
That had been days ago. A week? Time had slowed and sped up in frightening synchronicity since that brief conversation. You and he had been dancing around your flirtations for months, but in each moment when he swooped gently to kiss you, to let his hands wander to your own, to break the seal of workplace propriety – you bailed.
His absence made everything come in bright clarity. In deepest reds and brightest blues you saw for the first time how much more he was than a distraction, than something to be feared in awe from a distance. Like a predator behind glass. Fear. What was it you were afraid of? Of how much you want him. Of how how has the power to elevate or decimate in the palm of his-
You shook the thought away, seeing the potted plant that signalled the end of the corridor come into view. One more turn.
Silent breaths rose and fell as his door suddenly loomed. It stretched up into nothingness, its out of place mahogany intricacies making you smile in the eerie darkness. Lifting a fist to knock, you paused. A feeling rose that was difficult to place. The ornate brass knob was cool to the touch, but even from one small twist it was easy to tell it was - Come after dark, -unlocked.
You held your breath, twisting on the exhale. There was a soft click as the mechanism relented, a cool brush of air wafting against heated cheeks. The goosebumps on your forearms bristled.
A feeling of dread suddenly descended, sinking through the excited trepidation. What if he didn’t mean it? What if, I’m just breaking into his room-
You recalled the gleam of his darkened eyes, the blue of his irises barely visible at the rims of wide pupils. The hum of his voice as he enunciated each word with painfully laden precision, as thick as double cream; Come after dark,
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. As your eyes adjusted to a deeper darkness, the room’s layout came into view. A short corridor which was the mark of all your accommodations led into a living area. You could see the elegant curves of an ostentatious sofa, the rise of a fireplace and the shadowy reflection of a mirror glinting above. Floor length curtains swept around the corner windows. Of course Loki has the corner apartment, you mulled, noticing dinner-plate sized vegetation poked around the corner from some kind of plant. Your fingers reaching to absent-mindedly rub the waxy leaves as you padded over luxurious carpet. White carpet. Your bare feet sank into the pile, each cushioned step landing on the heel making your breaths quicken as you worked closer to the bedroom. The door was open, just a crack. After this, there was no turning back. You would never be the same. You could tell. Good, you thought; feeling your heart thunder. Like an astral projection, you felt your fingers slide around the edge of the door, peeking inside. A wave of adrenaline soared up your body like a tide; animalistic energy bursting new heat from every pore. There he was.
Spread like a sculpture; a living Bernini glowing in soft cracks of moonlight glistening on his skin. One long thigh rested open atop twisted sheets, an arm outstretched on the empty side of the bed reaching for an invisible lover. The curves of his muscles rose and fell along each line of his body, white sheets painted teasingly across the sharp dents of his hips. His obliques clenched with each soft breath, perfect face turned towards the shards of moonbeam bathing him in ethereal light. Dark curls lay spread against the pillow, like splatters of oil on canvas, winding across the cotton and the broad flat of his pale shoulders. Your mouth felt dry, and your eyes. You realised you hadn’t blinked in about thirty seconds. He looked so peaceful, it would be a shame to- Oh-
Your eyes fell on his crotch as he sifted within dreams, something long and thick nudging horizontal upwards against the sheets.
Your breath hitched as a well of saliva rose in your mouth, moistening your lips. You would be lying if you hadn’t imagined him thrusting his fist against that huge cock in these very rooms while he moaned your name, fuelling your forbidden fantasies. On the edge of this very bed, by all accounts. He was always a gentleman in your presence, something you had wished many times he would abandon to urge you to take the leap.
But after all, here you were. Here I am. His brow furrowed, a light moan snaking from his slumbering throat. Beneath your pyjama shorts, the slick of arousal that had been growing since you had left your own apartment warmed. Slipping.
You squeezed around the door, tentatively making your way to the empty side of the bed. Now what, you thought, letting your eyes roam over his sprawled form as you resisted the urge to jump on him...do I wake him, should I- “-Loki?” you whispered, voice shaking. Your fingertips traced the thick cotton rumpled at the bed’s edge. His breaths continued to slowly rise and fall, the erotically devastating fan of dark lashes against his skin, undisturbed. “Loki?” you repeated, resting on the side of the mattress, “Mmm...” he mumbled groggily, frowning in his slumber. He sighed, outstretched fingers twitching. You smiled, watching the strong veins in his forearms tense before relaxing into smooth surrender.
Following the delicate lines of the summer duvet draped lazily across his torso, you let your eyes track down the folds. It ran diagonal, exposing the taut carving of violent muscle rippling down his chest, his stomach. The duvet rested teasingly over his hips, an exposed leg hanging open sluttishly as the other stretched down to the end of the ornate bed-frame. “Lo-kii…” you cooed seductively, shuffling closer.
You waited. He didn’t stir. You frowned.
Beneath the duvet, the god’s swollen cock twitched against the cotton.
Your eyes ran up the lines of muscle contoured in the moonlight, up the shadow of his cheekbones to his peaceful brow. A thin line formed between his eyebrows, softening. Without realising it, your outstretched fingers ghosted down the centre of his abdomen, cool skin making heated tips tingle. You edged closer on your knees, making the firm mattress bounce slightly. But still, he did not stir. Nerves burst in stars deep in your belly, the gravity of your audacity making you dizzy as you fought to hold your nerve.
Cautiously, you lowered to his flat stomach, placing a kiss just above his naval. A shaking gasp escaped your nostrils, the electric eroticism of his energy humming from every inch of his skin as you moved lower. Fine hair coating down from his naval grazed your chin, its feathery softness a stark reminder of the warm heart beating beneath his stoic exterior. You paused on the dip of his adonis belt, frozen hunched in place as he stirred. The pillows rustled, followed by a soft thump as his cheek fell to the other side.
“Don’t s-stop…” he softly slurred, hips nudging upwards beneath the sheet. Outstretched fingers gripped the sheet to your side in a loose fist, the fingernails catching on cotton before relaxing.
Oh, god.
Your trembling digits wrapped around the blanket’s tip, pulling down. And all the time, your eyes never left his moon-drunk face. Tentatively you ran your fingernails lightly over the taut skin of his ribs. Shivers rose in the muscle beneath your careful touch as the sheet was brushed aside below. You let the heel of your palm search in half-darkness for the root of his subconscious desire.
It didn’t need to search far. Loki moaned softly, his lips parting with a puff of air. A rogue strand of hair buffeted from his face as you clenched around nothing, the wetness between your legs wild and unstoppable, his gentle whoreish sounds making your inner-beast writhe. The god’s breaths were a roar in the suffocating silence. “Please,” he breathed in dreams. It floated, lingering like perfume. Or maybe it was your imagination. Reluctantly, your palm left the velvet skin of his cock and planted on the farthest side of his body. You loomed over him. He’s like my prey, thought reverently; holding back a giggle. Like a virgin and a vampire, about to be sucked dr-
The smile faded, replaced by something stronger than the fear of him waking and recoiling in disgust. That this had all been a misunderstanding. That his sultry flirtations and invitations and unlocked door were just coincidences. Nothing more. Tilting your head, you bit your bottom lip and watched as his light frown returned. He squirmed in slumber, ropes of shoulder muscle shifting against the pillows. You allowed yourself to finish the thought, -Sucked dry.
Taking a deep breath, you dipped down and covered the head of his majestic cock carefully with your mouth. It was warm, the round tip resting on your tongue, the jolt of his thigh splayed to the side not going unnoticed as you let your slick lips slide against him. He’s been hard for a while, you pondered, savouring the settling of his sex inside your mouth. Where he belongs. A thick vein pulsed against your tongue. Your mind crackled with energy, every nerve screaming to shake him awake and fuck him into the headboard between messy kisses and half-formed words. “Mmmm...ye-shs, p-please -m-more…” Loki exhaled groggily. You wondered if he was dreaming of you. Muffled, his lashes fluttered with pleasure beneath shuttered lids. The thump of your heart was deafening as you focused on the taste of him filling your mouth. The sweetness of his velvet skin stretched over unforgiving muscle, fresh and deep like autumn pine. Plump veins slid further down the flat of your tongue as you grew braver, each ridge that bumped against the muscle lovingly caressed. The creases of your mouth cracked slowly as you slid him further inside. And it suddenly dawned on you, how large he truly was. The scent of his shaft filled your nostrils as you lapped softly at the tip, enjoying each stolen moment of second-hand pleasure. Your pussy throbbed, blood pumping and heating the mess between your legs. Loki whined softly, hips beginning to roll in dream-soaked waves. You wrapped your fingers one by one around the thickness of him, brow furrowing as you felt the weight of his cock twitch in your grip. Slowly, you drew your tongue over the sensitive frenulum, feeling his hips shudder as you licked to the leaking tip.
“You came…” a gravelled voice shifted in the darkness, making you jump. Your head snapped towards him, fearful eyes wide. A mischievous smile tugged at his beautiful lips, shadows cast by the moonlight carving deep grooves beneath his cheekbones. “Quite the one for drama after all, aren’t we, little fox?” The words were mumbled coyly, raising an eyebrow as you sat upright. Loki’s voice was husky with something, but it wasn’t sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to dramatically whip the remaining duvet from his body and letting it sprawl to the floor.
“I thought you might enjoy the illusion of voyeurism,” he smiled, rubbing a flat palm on the mattress beside him. “As usual, it seems, I was correct.” “You were awake?” you scoffed, admitting to yourself that the desired effect was likely lost by the wandering of your hungry eyes over his unbearably naked form. With sudden clarity, you realised his hard manhood was still wrapped in the punishing grip of your fingers. “Mmmm,” he hummed, smile wider now with the mocking echo of his slumbering moans. His stare dropped in stages down your body, across every line of your form kneeling on his bed in the moonslick gloom. If he was searching for resistance, he would find none. “I’m sorry if I-”
Before the final words could form on your tongue, Loki was kneeling in front of you. His hips pressed flush to your stomach, those long fingers that had brushed your own so many times beneath the conference table digging into the small of your back. They sank lower, cupping your ass with a ragged groan from his throat. “Enough,” he growled. But it wasn’t a threat. It was a plea. Loki buried his face in your neck, kissing ravenously up the curve towards the angle of your jaw as your nails dragged down his chiselled abdomen. The god’s breath was hot, decadent.
Both of you raised on your knees, a tangled primal mess of hair and fingers and teeth and tongue as the past burned. Whispers of desire fluttered in the sliver of air between you as Loki’s hands spread against your ass-cheeks, down the backs your thighs. He rested back on the bed, letting you fall over him in a flood of pure need, straddling him immediately. “I’m going to fuck you into this headboard, Laufeyson” you heard yourself mutter as you stooped to place wet kisses on his collarbone. Loki chuckled. “Oh I do hope so,” he rumbled under his breath. “I’ve thought about it enough.”
His eyes tracked over your loose pyjama top like a hunter, running his hands up the curve of your waist until your vision blurred. With a soft pop, you were free. Loki groaned. The flat of his cock lay nestled between your legs, pressed tight against your wet cunt. Pleasure fired with every frustrated rock of his hips, seeking salvation. His palms cupped your breasts, burying his face forwards as your wound your fingers in his hair. “Fuck me,” he gasped desperately against your chest. The skin was moist with moans and sucks and kisses as he pushed your breasts together, his proud features absorbing all you had to give. “Fuck me, please.”
You held your breath as you rose up, hand feeling between his legs and lining him up. The tip of his manhood brushed against your aching heat, a premature moan of anticipation filling the air from you both. “There’s no going back after this,” you said; voice trembling over shaky breaths. The god’s eyes rose from the sight of his cock hovering at your entrance, the same determined look of intent curtaining his features as had in the hallway. “You shall not want to go back, darling,” he murmured, a familiar smirk curling his lip in the gloom. A dimple flashed. “Believe me.”
The words made you clench just as you sank onto his cock, his sheer size making you choke on air as a strangled gasp erupted. Loki’s hands guided your hips, rocking you gently down his length. His eye twitched, brows slanted as his chin tilted to the ceiling. But still, he kept his gaze on you. “Loki-” you whined, feeling each ridge and vein of his shaft press and drag against your little cunt. Nothing was supposed to feel this good.
Loki let out a ragged exhale he’d been holding, whole body shuddering as he filled you to the hilt. Careful fingers rested on your hips, pulling you gently back and forth. You could feel your walls begin to stretch, the sopping stickiness of arousal coating his cock with each gyration. “Good?” he grunted, concern lacing his voice. You nodded mutely, strands of hair sticking to your parted lips as you moaned obscenities above him. How fucked-out you must look, and you’d barely started. One of your hands gripped his headboard, the other steadying on his chest as Loki let you take him. All of him.
With every roll of your hips, your clit pressed against his pelvis; sparks of pleasure setting your belly alight with new desires. Every soft sigh of your name, good girl, that’s it, pushed you higher; confidence building. You started to bounce, thighs tensing with every slam to the root of his shaft. The desire to close your eyes and let yourself drown in ecstasy was overwhelming, but the urge to watch the god you had craved writhe beneath you was stronger.
“G-gods, my sweet little f-fuck...f-ox…” Loki growled, giving into himself and making you fly into the air with a targeted thrust. He caught your waist, sinking you down with merciless precision, “you’re even more d-deadly than I expected.” The headboard slapped against the wall, each ca-lunk of wood on plaster making you tighten. Fingernails sank into the leather covering as the beat grew louder with every synchronised groan from your throats, of every squelching slap of your bodies moving as one. You didn’t stop to wonder who was on the other side. You didn’t care. Loki grit his teeth, the veins in his neck straining as his hair mussed against the pillow. He slipped a hand behind your head as you leant towards him, sucking the pleasure point of his neck with moans so dirty you surprised yourself. “My patient god,” you grunted wetly against his skin, tightening your cunt around his throbbing sex, “I want your cum covering every inch of me when tonight is over.” The noises he was making were filth. Every curse and uhhhhh and sluttish moan driving you feral as you shook the walls with all your might. Loki was nearing his limit. Men and gods, you surmised, were not so different in some respects.
His eyes rolled back, a hiss filling the hair as his jaw set in smouldering intent. You smiled, placing both hands firmly over the leather seal of his headboard. The flutter of his thumb against your swollen clit was all it took to push you over the edge, tumbling with a strangled cry of his name into an abyss of pleasure. Moonlight shattered around his tense body, cutting in shards where each bladed muscle of his godly formed tightened and bulged beneath the grip of your thighs.
Syllables of your name exploded one after another as he let himself come undone, arching up to catch your open mouth in a filthy kiss. The pressure of his cum swelled inside your slit, leaking against his shuddering thrusts as his whole body trembled. Your cries intertwined the air like wafts of smoke, rising and ebbing before with a final broken sigh, you collapsed on top of him. Your fingertips followed at a snails pace, scratching down the skin of the leather headboard. Seconds passed, before Loki’s nose nestled beside your ear. “Worth the wait,” he murmured against your hair. “Mmm-hmmm,” you confirmed groggily, deep in the pillow. Words were too much. “It wasn’t a question,” he said quietly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You managed to raise your head, seeing the crescent fan of his lashes rise to reveal eyes sparkling with something new. “You,” he whispered, knuckles trailing lovingly down the curve of your damp neck, “however long it took. You were always worth the wait.”
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wildestdreamsblog · 8 months
Text
Latibule Epilogue
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: This contains a lot of unaliving, hence the chosen GIF. Proceed with caution. Also bb will take a break from latibule after this. Hope you enjoy!
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Masterlist, Latibule IX
Suga looked at Jackson junior with a fond smile on his face as the little child stabbed the cake with his little fork, the redness of the cake in perfect contrast to the white frosting of the red velvet. He ate it with such gusto, uncaring of the red crumbs coating his mouth.
“You kept your promise, ahjussi,” he mumbled with his mouth full that Suga couldn’t resist pinching his chubby cheek.
“Of course, I did,” he scoffed as he helped him sliced the cake. “I always keep my promises.”
Jackson looked up at him with his innocent eyes, his little legs swinging back and forth from the bench they were sitting on. “Then, do you promise to love my noona forever?”
“I promise.” It was the easiest promise he ever did.
“And do you also promise to marry her? She shouldn’t be alone, ahjussi. No one should be,” he stated with seriousness. Despite him being so young, he was so perceptive. He saw what loneliness could do to someone, and how it was slowly destroying his father. He didn’t want that for his favorite noona.
“I’ll marry her. Don’t worry,” he agreed with faux annoyance in his voice as though what he was requesting was such an imposition to him. It wasn’t. It was his most pertinent goal.
“Make sure you do! Or I’ll make my dad marry her!”
He was late, Suga thought. It had taken him longer than he would have wanted to. Jackson Junior sure did have a lot of energy for someone with such small body. He was smiling as he walked home.
Home.
When he thought of that word before, it never meant anything to him. It was just a noun, something that existed for everybody else but him. It was a place you returned to at the end of the day, someplace that brought you comfort. It was a place where you were safe, and warm, and loved.
Suga never did have that.
But then, you came. And now when he thought of home, he thought of you. You were his latibule. You were more than just a place, more than just a mere place to rest his weary body to. No, you were his hiding place. You were the one that saved him. You were his safe place.
And he would never leave you, nor would you leave him. He didn’t want to know what would become of him should he ever lost you.
Bitterly, though, his house was now on fucking attack and someone had the fucking audacity to ruin it.
He knew as soon as he walked near your house that something was fucking amiss. The hair on the back of his neck stood as though in warning about something. He never not believed his instincts, after all, it was what kept him still alive to this day.
His eyes roamed the area around your house, looking for the impending danger. He hated how he didn’t even have a fucking gun. He badly needed it now, he thought. The sun had now long set, surrounding his fucking house with darkness he didn’t need at the moment. He didn’t hear a thing inside your house, no movements could be heard nor seen. And he would bet his fucking life that something bad was happening.
Instead of entering the house through the front door, he automatically went to the back. His pace was brisk and determined, his steps light. He had memorized the whole layout and could avoid any steps that would give away his position. As soon as he reached the garden, he picked up the small hand trowel and tucked it behind his jeans. As quietly as would be allowed, he opened the back door, his eyes assessing the area with precision.
He knew you were in danger, yet what he never expected was from whom.
Sitting beside your trembling form on the sofa was his own fucking brother, Jung Hoseok.
He was smiling as though nothing was amiss, as though this was a fucking good visit.
He was smiling as though no one would die tonight.
“Brother, long time no see,” he greeted lightly. His other hand rested on the back of the sofa, his hand timidly holding his gun. “I have missed you so.”
Suga turned to look at your eyes, and he fucking hated how terrified you looked. This was what he was attempting so hard to avoid. This was his fucking nightmare. “Are you okay?”
You jumped when Hoseok touched your shoulder lightly with his gun, your lips quivering from the situation you found yourself in. “Of course, she is! You wound me, brother. I could never hurt a woman…unlike you.”
Suga’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes going to Hoseok’s amused ones. He scoffed, calmly walking around the house to get closer to the pair. “I do have to assume that this is your admission of being the Judas.”
“Hmm,” Hoseok thought, his fucking smile still on his face. “I guess that makes the two of us, right?” He turned to you, his tone friendly as though the two of you friends, as though he wasn’t holding a gun right now, “Did you know that this guy is the personification of Lucifer, himself? He’s the worst man out there. In fact, you should be more scared of him than me. I have never killed a woman before,” he smirked back at him, “cannot say the same thing for Yoongi.”
“Y-Yoongi?” you repeated, looking at Suga, your Suga with questions and a betrayal in your eyes.
A booming laughter from beside you erupted, making you jump lightly from your seat. Hoseok was laughing as though this was all funny, like your life wasn’t on the brink of collapsing. “You didn’t even tell her your real name? That’s so fucking funny, Yoongi-ah,” he chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes from laughing too hard. But then, in a somber tone he said, “That’s fucking low of you, Agustd.”
At your stupefied expression, Hoseok turned to you in faux pity, “Oh no…you didn’t know you were housing the fucking mafia lord. Poor you, sweetheart.”
And betrayal turned into anger. The dark emotions seeped through your eyes, tears blurring your sight. But through it all, his face remained impassive.
“I-is that true?”
“Don’t listen to him. You know me the best, Angel-”
“Do I?”
“You do. You love me, right? You said so yourself. You need to trust me-“
“That’s so fucking sweet. Sickeningly sweet. I’m over it,” Hoseok cut him off. He nodded at someone from behind him. And then he felt it. The cold barrel of the gun pointed at the back of his head. Yoongi glared at the man stupid enough to point a gun at him, and he recognized him as someone from the organization.
Fucking traitors.
“As if you know anything about love, Agustd. You’re fucking incapable of it.” Hoseok sighed before calmly standing and pulling you up with him. “You killed the only person I love. Don’t you think it’s only fair that I kill yours? An eye for an eye and all that shit?”
Yoongi stared at Hoseok and then at the trembling form of yours. “You’re making a mistake,” he stated, his demeanor cold as he stared back at the eyes of the man he once considered his brother. “Stop and all of this will be forgiven, Hoseok.”
The man merely scoffed, his head tilted, “You still don’t realize you are in the losing position, do you?” he inquired curiously, chuckling under his breath before losing all his emotions completely. “Take him away from here. And if you as so much make a fucking move, I will blow your angel’s head off. Do not test me, Yoongi. Or do. Let’s see.”
Yoongi knew he was saying the truth. And against all his instincts that were screaming at him to go to you, to save you, to pull you in his arms, he went with the other traitor outside the house. His eyes never left yours, not until he could no longer see you, and not until the man punched him with the end of the gun in the head.
You couldn’t see from the onslaught of tears flooding your eyes. Was this how everything was going to end? After you found a taste of happiness? Were you brought to this earth just to suffer?
The man called Hoseok let you go gently, and you were no fool to think that you were safe. No. Not with the barrel of gun pointed behind your back.
“I’m sorry you were dragged to this mess,” he murmured honestly, his arm was firm as he adjusted his gun. “Had you not saved him that night, none of this would happen.”
“P-please. Let m-me go,” you cried, your hands shaking from all of this. This was straight out of your nightmare. You had lived a fairly calm and peaceful life, until that tragedy. And even then, you were never at the end point of a gun. Even then, you were spared.
But alas, maybe your luck had ran out.
“You did nothing wrong. But this has to happen. I hope you forgive me.”
You nodded, slowly facing him. And when you looked up at his mad eyes, your stepped closer and pushed the gun on your head. If this was to happen, then he had to look into your eyes. You may be trembling with terror, but you were no pawn. You would take control of your life until the very end.
You saw him faltered, saw him gulping once. He didn’t want this, you thought. But his judgement was too clouded, and Hoseok was too far gone in his scheme. He had no way but to see this through. And just when he was about to pull the trigger, a knife was plunged to his arm, effectively making him dropped the gun.
A hand pulled you behind, shielding you from the bloodshed that was happening.
“Still a good aim, Namjoon hyung,” the man in front of you praised the other man who threw the knife, his deep, baritone voice almost familiar. “Good to know all your time spent in the courtroom didn’t make you soft.”
“Shut up. Take her away to safety, Taehyung.” The other man, Namjoon, ordered lowly as he wrestled with Hoseok who was grinning despite the blood seeping from his wound.
“Namjoon, came to join the party?”
“You need to stop, hyung!” Namjoon growled, willing the him to understand the gravity of the situation. “We can still fix this-“
“I don’t want to. You should have never saved me that night. You should have left me to die!” he grunted before punching him. Everything was fast, and before you could blink, the booming sound of gunshot resounded. You felt Taehyung’s hand pushing you, ordering you to run.
And you did.
You ran. But the outside was just the same as the inside. You saw Suga kneeling on the ground, behind him was the man who was grinning as he twisted his arms behind him. But when he saw you, he pointed the gun at you.
Suga watched as though it was a fucking movie. He watched it all in unhidden horrification as you fell the moment the bullet pierced into your fragile skin. He watched helplessly as your precious blood drenched the clothes you had carefully chosen just this evening.
He stood there frozen as the love of his life fell to the ground, your head hitting the cold, hard step with a deafening thud. He could have sworn his heart stopped in disbelief at someone’s audacity to hurt the woman he had only ever loved.
And the moment your eyes closed was the exact moment Agustd came back to life with a bloody vengeance.
A curtain drew closed on his mind, effectively clouding his self-survival. Yoongi had always been a one-track mind. Nothing else mattered but to you, he didn’t find it in himself to care whether he would have to break or even cut his own arm just to get to you. There was no doubt in his mind that he would get to you, that he would be able to save you.
No, it was a given fact. It was the most certain thing in his mind at the very moment. You had to live, otherwise he would need to burn this whole world down.
You simply had to survive if you didn’t want other people to suffer his wrath. There was no living without you, he thought. With a practiced movement he twisted his own arm away from the asshole that would soon leave in a body bag. The man looked at him in horror as Yoongi snarled at him, uncaring of the arm now hanging limply on his side. Hell, he couldn’t even feel it. He stepped back unconsciously as his former boss marched to him, his hands holding the firearm faltered for a moment. That small window of opportunity was all Yoongi needed, and before he knew it, the cold barrel of gun was pointed on his sweaty forehead. Yoongi didn’t even blink as he fired the gun, and horrifyingly, he didn’t even flinch when his blood splattered all over his face. It wasn’t enough. With the weapon he hid behind him, he stabbed the deceased man in the neck, blood sputtering in his face.
Yoongi immediately turned to you, but before he could get to you, a swarm of men dressed in black walked in with guns pointed at him. Of fucking course, Hoseok wouldn’t go to him with only a man in tow, Yoongi thought. And he was fucking outnumbered.
But nothing could deter him from reaching you, not before when you were alive, not now when you were bleeding on the ground. He didn’t even blink as he shot the gun at the man on his right. Surprise was his edge, but he needed to be smart about this.
It was him that they wanted, not you.
He stepped back, grinning at the audacity of these assholes. And just like he knew, they all followed him. He was running when four of his brothers stepped in with danger and madness in their eyes.
All of them were as deranged as Yoongi, they all just hid it better.
“Long time no see, hyung!” Jungkook greeted him, showing him his signature bunny smile before shooting the first man he saw.
Seokjin only looked at him, seriousness in his eyes as he assessed his bleeding head with clinical aura. He didn’t even blink as he stabbed the man in the neck stealthily. He was annoyed. He was mad. And most of all, he hated how they were almost too late. He had almost failed to protect the family he claimed as his own.
Jimin was uncharacteristically quiet, only going to work. Yoongi felt a little hopeful that this was not going to end badly. Not now that he had his brothers with him. He saw Taehyung and Namjoon joining the fight, their moves as precise as the other brothers. Their fight was away from you, just as Yoongi wanted.
He swore that once this was all over, that you would never be hurt again. This would be the last time you would be hurt. So, you had to fucking survive, lest he ruined this whole fucking world.
Yet, just when it was about to end, just when they eliminated the last traitor, your house exploded and a bullet pierced Yoongi’s chest.
After the ashes had settled and the fire was contained, after they cleaned the crime scene, after they brought Yoongi to the hospital, after desperately looking for you- all they found was your necklace.
They never did find you that night, nor did they find Hoseok’s body. The police they bribed said that it was possible your bodies melted from the intense fire, that you couldn’t possibly survive that.
That you were dead.
And you were declared dead.
When Min Yoongi woke up from his week-long coma, he unleashed hell.
Agustd was fucking back.
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Season 2: Prologue
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fluentmoviequoter · 10 days
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Confident in Us
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x confident!fem!reader (single mom)
Summary: You're confident, you keep Tim on his toes, but he realizes that it's not enough. He learns that you have a son from a previous relationship while Angela is pressuring him to ask you out, but you beat him to it.
Warnings: misogynistic comments (not from Tim), fluff, flirting, Tim gets a little nervous around r, r's son likes Optimus Prime (bc I like Transformers)
Word Count: 2.8k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“C’mon, babe, wake up!” you call again, holding your phone away from your face. “Okay, sorry, Angela, how can I help you?” you ask into the microphone.
“Babe? Did someone spend the night?” Angela teases.
“You know he did. Early morning calls from you are new, though.”
“We’re infiltrating a money laundering scheme. The Metro captain said you’d be a good fit to lead the operation,” she explains.
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Perfect! And I’d tell you to take your time getting ready, but you always look good.”
“Back atcha.”
You end the call and yell another wake-up call with more urgency. There’s a case to be worked on, and you know you can get it done. If you can get to work, that is.
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“Sergeant Bradford,” you greet as you approach Angela’s desk. “Detective Lopez.”
“Morning,” Tim replies.
You smile at him before asking Angela where your temporary team is. She tells you they’re arriving shortly and meeting in the roll call room. There’s a case file spread open on her desk, and you lean beside her to look at it.
“When do you think your captain will just realize that I’d be a great permanent fixture on your team?” you ask Tim, looking up through your lashes. “I’d only distract you boys sometimes.”
“I think that’s the major concern,” Tim deadpans.
“Granted, we wouldn’t be able to work together,” you sigh.
“Why not?”
“We’d draw too much attention, Tim. Look at us.”
You smile again and Tim shakes his head. Your confidence reads as flirtation occasionally, but Tim has always been drawn to you. He’s constantly impressed by how good you are at your job, and how aware you are of what you are worth. Your strengths and weaknesses are well-known to you, and you use them to your advantage. Most importantly, you don’t let anyone walk over you. Being a woman in the police force is hard, but you make it look effortless and do it with grace.
“Why am I in charge of this?” you ask.
“You’ve worked a laundering op before, right?” Angela asks.
“I assisted in one when I was on patrol, yeah.”
“A very successful one, from what I hear. Since you’ve been on the ground for one, you were the best choice.”
You nod before you notice the Metro team enter. As you stand and move toward Tim, he wonders if you’re this confident outside of work, or if it’s something you’ve built up to maintain your sanity in a job surrounded by men.
“Think we’ll be done by eight?” you murmur.
“Why? Have a date?” he counters.
“Something like that,” you reply with a wink. “Let’s go catch some money launderers, Bradford.”
“We’ve got three Metro teams here for this op,” the Metro captain explains as you enter. “Work together or get out of my station, is that clear?”
Overlapping replies of “Yes, ma’am” mix as you lead Tim toward the front of the roll call room. A television screen shows the layout of the warehouse you will be infiltrating, but you have to explain all the minor details. Your previous success in a place like this was due to the precision of little movements, and this will be no different.
“So, what’s the plan?” a man in the front row asks.
You nod toward him and say, “Our goal is-“
“I was asking Sergeant Bradford,” he interjects.
You smile at him as you explain, “I’m in charge of this operation, so I can answer any questions you have. Our goal is to infiltrate the operation without breaching. Once inside, we can better understand the operation. Then, three different teams will breach from the locations marked on the map.”
“‘Scuse me,” someone calls from the back.
“Yes?”
“Why leave the front side open during the breach?”
“Excellent question. This unit backs up to a storefront on the opposite side. Patrol units will evacuate that store before the raid, so there will be no exfil points nor civilian interaction.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“No problem. You have your team assignments, and we will ensure each team is in location before the infiltration. In the case of anyone exiting the building before the breach begins, immobilize and detain as quickly and quietly as possible. Are there any other questions?”
Everyone shakes their head, and you hear the first man who cut you off mutter something under his breath.
“One more thing,” their captain adds. “If any one of you have decided to feel misogynistic today, get out now. I will not tolerate you rejecting orders for any reason. One more disrespectful comment toward another officer will get you benched. Indefinitely. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the men call together.
As they leave, she apologizes to you, but you brush off her concerns with a smile. You’re used to it, and she is too.
“Thank you for letting me join this operation,” you tell her.
“Of course. I hear you and Bradford are the best,” she replies. “Prove ‘em right.”
You nod before following Tim out. There’s a bit of time until you have to change and prepare to infiltrate, and you have paperwork to do until then.
“Good work in there,” Tim says.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Bradford,” you joke. “See you in a bit.”
He watches you walk toward your desk. When Angela slaps his arm, though, he turns away quickly with wide eyes.
“What was that for?” he demands.
“Are you going to ask her out or not?” she sighs.
“Not.”
“Why not?”
“Um, I don’t have a death wish,” Tim says dramatically. “She does not like being hit on, you know that.”
“No, she doesn’t like being objectified. You asking her out – genuinely being interested in her – would get an entirely different response.”
Tim rolls his eyes and notices a man walking toward you. He lays a hand on Angela’s shoulder and turns her toward you.
“Hey, baby, you need someone to escort you home tonight?” the man asks, though his eyes are nowhere near your face. “No need to go home without a man one more time, right?”
“The only boy I’ll be taking home tonight is my son, so no thank you,” you reply easily.
“Son?” Tim whispers.
“You didn’t know?” Angela asks.
“No, I… Look, Lopez, the point is I don’t need her to stop talking to me because I asked her out.”
“Then don’t ask her out like that.”
“She doesn’t want anything!” Tim exclaims. “Drop it.”
You look up when his voice raises, and your brows furrow when you see him talking to Angela. They wave, and you shake your head in amusement before returning your attention to your paperwork.
“I didn’t even know she had a son,” Tim adds quietly. “She keeps me on my toes at work, and that’s enough.”
“Sure,” Angela agrees. “But what about when it’s not enough anymore?”
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“So…” Tim begins as you walk down a street to reach the target location.
“Put your arm around me,” you say suddenly.
Tim doesn’t question your request as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. His eyes are on your face, and you smile as you look up at him.
“It’s busier than I thought it’d be,” you murmur. “Don’t need to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”
“Not a problem. We’re going to a place that doesn’t exist anyway,” Tim replies.
“You seem… off. Are you okay to do this?” you check.
“Yeah, I’m good. Angela just pried into my personal life again. Made me question things, for some reason.”
You chuckle and shake your head against Tim’s forearm. “Trust me, I know that situation all too well. She’s been trying to get me to start dating since my son got old enough to be left with a babysitter.”
Tim hums and you realize he may not have known as much about your personal life as Angela. You don’t talk about your home life much at work for a couple of reasons, but the biggest is your concern about the comments you’d get. Being a cop is hard enough, but a cop who is a single mother is much different. The things that the men you work with would say require a level of patience that you don’t have, and your confidence can’t conceal that.
“We’re here,” Tim alerts as you reach the entrance.
He removes his arm from your shoulders and opts to take your hand as he opens the door and leads you inside. The false front, Coo-Coo Cash Checking, is tiny, though you suppose they need as much room as possible for their backdoor counterfeiting business.
“Welcome, folks,” a man says as he steps to the desk. “What can I help you with?”
“My girlfriend and I are looking to buy a house but can’t get approved for the loan we need. A friend of mine told me you, or your boss, Malcolm Dmitri, could help,” Tim explains.
The man nods at the mention of the code word and steps back. “Sure, we can. Mr. Dmitri is in a meeting right now but should be done in about five minutes. Mind waiting?”
“That’s perfect,” Tim replies. “Thank you, sir.”
The door closes behind him and you turn toward Tim.
“Something feels off,” you murmur.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
He looks around, but there isn’t much to see in the five-foot-deep entryway where you stand. You rise to your tiptoes and look over the desk, but there’s nothing back there, either.
“They’re going to do something unexpected,” you say. “Let’s just roll with it.”
“Within reason,” Tim argues.
“What if my reason is different than yours?” you ask, leaning against him and smiling.
“Then I’ll pull rank,” he answers, sounding breathless.
“And here I thought we were friends.”
You pout, and Tim looks away quickly. Just as you stand and prepare to apologize for going too far, the door opens again.
“Mr. Dmitri can see you now. The problem is his office is small, so it’ll have to be one at a time. He’ll see you first, Miss…” he trails off, waiting for your name.
“Walton,” you answer, making up a name quickly.
Tim squeezes your hand, but you run your finger over his palm as you step forward. He registers your signal but doesn’t like what you’re about to do.
“I’ll be right back, honey,” you promise as you walk through the door.
Tim leans back against the wall as he waits for your signal to breach. He will rush inside the moment he hears it. Not a moment before, though, because he knows you and you know what you’re doing.
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As you and Tim walk out of the front door after a successful raid, you pull his hand into yours again.
“Ask me what you wanted to ask before,” you say softly. “I don’t keep my personal life a secret from you on purpose, it’s just that some of the guys at work… I know how they’d treat me if they knew I had a kid.”
“I get it,” Tim replies. “You said you’re a single mom. I guess I’m just surprised anyone would leave you.”
“I left him,” you admit. “I know what I’m worth and that didn’t always sit well with him. I wouldn’t change a thing, though, because I got an amazing son out of the deal.”
“What were you thinking?” one of the Metro officers demands as you near the rendezvous point. “Going in there alone was stupid!”
“I had the situation under control,” you reply calmly.
Tim drops your hand and levels his gaze on the man before you. He’s too close to you, but Tim won’t step in unless he has to. You can handle yourself, he knows that, but it doesn’t keep him from getting angry with people who talk down to you.
“Clearly! They could’ve taken you in a second!” he replies. “How do you deal with her, Bradford? You just let her waltz into a death trap.”
“She is good at what she does,” Tim answers. “And you would do well to treat her like the cop she is and not my assistant. This is her operation, so stop questioning her decisions.”
“Oh, she’s got you on a tight leash, Bradford.”
“That’s enough,” you interrupt, your friendly smile long gone. “I know what I am doing, and since you clearly have no trust in me as a member of your team, you can go.”
“That’s not your call, girlie.”
Tim steps forward, but his Metro captain approaches before he can say anything.
“She dismissed you, officer. That means go. Now.”
The officer rolls his eyes and stomps as he pushes against your shoulder to get past. You shake your head before you ask if all of the suspects are in custody.
“Every one of them,” the captain answers. “Excellent work in there.” “I appreciate that,” you reply. “Sergeant Bradford was a great asset in there.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Reviews are coming up soon.”
She winks at Tim before she pats your shoulder and returns to the mobile command unit. You exhale and roll your shoulders back to stand straighter.
“I’m sorry,” Tim offers.
“I don’t let it affect me anymore. My confidence threatens their insecurity, so they try to knock me down. I’ve gotten very good at standing my ground. But I meant what I said, you were great in there; couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I wasn’t even with you,” Tim argues.
“Yes, you were. I knew that you’d be there the moment I signaled. That’s why I was okay going a few steps further alone because you had my six.”
“Always.”
“There is one thing I’d like to ask you to do, though,” you begin. Tim nods, and you request, “Whatever Angela wanted you to do, go do it. She looks out for our best, even when it just feels like pointless meddling.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure, you can.”
“No, I really-“
“Tim,” you groan, leaning back.
“She wants me to ask you out,” Tim blurts out.
You stand up to look at him, and he simply shrugs. Though you suspect why he doesn’t want to do it, based on how you usually respond to being hit on at work, you know that you would say yes before he even finished.
“I have a kid,” you remind him quietly.
“So?” Tim asks, furrowing his brows.
“That’s a non-starter for most guys.”
“Most guys are idiots, then.”
You smile as you agree. “But you’re not. So, what are you going to do?”
Tim shakes his head, so you sigh and do something for both of you.
“Tim Bradford, will you go out with me?” you ask.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m asking you out. Now, my son may have to crash the date because my sitter is supposed to leave early tomorrow, but he’s a good kid. Most of the time.”
“Okay,” Tim says. “Yeah, let’s go out.”
“See, that wasn’t so scary,” you tease. You lean toward him to whisper, “And I promise that I’m not just using you to be a good influence in my son’s life. He has all the father figure he needs in Optimus Prime.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tim asks quietly.
“Which part?”
“The-“
You cut Tim off with a kiss on the cheek, and when your hands hit his shoulders to steady yourself, he knows that Angela was right. She can never know that, though, and it was a one-time thing. Tim pulls you into a hug before you can pull back.
“Thank you for defending me,” you tell him.
“You didn’t need it,” he counters.
“Yet you did it anyway. That makes it even better, Tim.”
“Thanks for asking me out.”
“Now that we did need. I can get another sitter so we can go on a real date.”
“No, bring your son. He’s important to you, so he needs to be a part of this. If he doesn’t like me, we go back to being work friends.”
“And if he does?”
“Then I guess I have to fight Optimus Prime.”
“Mm,” you hum, pretending to think. “I think you could take him with a little help from me.”
“A sentient robot who turns into a semi versus two human cops? You’re more confident than I thought.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No, I don’t.”
You step away from Tim and smile. “Then it’s a date. Am I in charge of this operation or are you?”
“Well, you did this one so well… I’ll handle the date; you just look perfect as always.”
You gasp and point at Tim as you walk backward toward your car. “You can flirt!”
“I learned from the best,” he replies playfully. “See you tomorrow.”
“Twice!” you remind him. “And, Tim, don’t bother to brush up on your fighting skills. You’re better than Optimus, every day of the week. He’s going to adore you.”
I hope so because I adore his mom, Tim thinks. Maybe more than adore.
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kustas · 2 years
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Finally watched the CSM opening, I'm blown away by the animation but it's more worrying than exciting. These shots are insanely detailed in animation and compositing, and there's already been reports of worker abuse at Mappa - a (french) article I read two days ago interviewed an animator saying they had to animate a whole minute by themself (for comparison the dayly average for hand drawn animation in France is around two seconds) and has contracted carpal tunnel syndrome at the layout stage. That is, the first stage of planning after a finished storyboard. This is before actually animating all frames.
Given Crunchyroll has also been exposed recently for paying it's dub actors a few hundreds of dollars per person, per role, and that regarding Mappa, actual information about working conditions are mostly kept secret, it could be way worst.
This isn't to say don't watch Chainsaw man, it does look extremely dope and beautifully made. But if you're enjoying the show and others like it, and are genuinely passionate about animation, please try to be mindful of the conditions in which these shows are made. I don't think I'll be able to watch it myself after learning about this without a ball in my throat and for now will opt out.
Translated excerpts from the linked article below.
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To meet Mappa studio leads, you need to [present yourself as harmless]. Some topics, like working conditions in the studio, are taboo.
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Mappa's style goes against traditional Japanese animation's style, most often semi-realistic. A demanding style, not for everyone [...] With eight series currently in production at Mappa and animators "in a state of utter fatigue", it is hard to follow this market undergoing constant expansion.
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Mappa's working conditions are getting more and more called out [among animators]. "If you don't talk to the animators you will never hear about the working conditions", laments one of them, under the cover of anonymousity.
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While Mappa does not necessarily pay more than other studios, its productions often have higher budgets. And if animators from all around the world rush to work there it's because of the aura of these projects. "That's precisely why I am not working for them," says a big name from the industry. "I find that Mappa abuses of the aura it has to enslave young people, who are fans of animation and of these franchises"
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hypnoneghoul · 9 days
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absolution live 2017/2023
here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh
also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie
anyway, under the cut
I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.
Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.
Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.
Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.
Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.
Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.
Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.
Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable. 
Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.
Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.
Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.
In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.
Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.
Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.
Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.
Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.
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cassimothwin · 20 days
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Hellwhalers Tabletop RPG: Hunt a monstrous leviathan in Hell's ocean
Come all ye sinners... ⚓
During a recent Twitch stream, I had the divine pleasure of flipping through Hellwhalers, a tabletop RPG designed by Moss Powers and Thomas Vorderbruggen.
You can watch my flip through here! 👇
youtube
As damned souls brought to life through evocative yet simple playbooks, players follow their captain's orders, collect souls, and repent in hopes of finding their way to heaven. Only once enough souls are fed to the Hellwhale's heart can players attempt to fell the great beast and earn their path to redemption.
What I really love...
Gambling as procedural generation: Players can bet souls on a custom-designed sic bo board, and the GM (or captain) uses that to build out how the next day's challenges will come.
Character playbooks overflowing with flavor: Building a character is quick and doesn't require rolling any stats. The inventory selection for each playbook is precise, with any item offering a wealth of opportunities for backstory.
Clever use of custom and public domain art: The book's layout captures the essence of The Divine Comedy, passing on the gloomy and forbidding tone of its inspiration.
The strong writing: Distilled vignettes, hints of lore, glimpses of setting, whispered voices, and variety haunting epilogues make this game a pleasure to read. It's easy to see how the playbooks, setting, and captain rules can work together to create a focused and thematic game.
The text provides methods for creating a one-shot, few-shot (a few sessions), or full campaign!
The game also inspired this fantastic video essay!!
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