#FIGURING OUT THAT MUSIC PUZZLE WAS VERY VERY FUN!!!!!

[maddymoreau]

I'm enjoying Fallout 3 a little more but there’s one thing that’s extremely bothering me.

How come, in the dialogue options, I can NEVER can mention, I was FORCED to leave the vault?

I didn’t have a choice but to leave. Jonas Palmer was beaten to death in attempts to get info about my father James. The Overseer was going to have the same done to me if not WORSE.

The Lone Wanderer: "So they killed Jonas, and I'm next, is that it?"

Amata: "Yeah. It's lucky I got here ahead of them. But we can't stand here talking! You're got to get out of here!"

I understand my father didn't know this would happen. That he simply thought I wouldn't be able to leave the vault after he escaped.

But the fact I can never explain what happened when reunited with him is just so ODD!?!?!!?

I COULDN’T STAY!!!!!!!

I FEEL LIKE THIS IS IMPORTANT INFORMATION YOU SHOULD WANT TO KNOW DAD!!!!!

WHY ARE THESE MY ONLY OPTIONS?!?!?!?!!!!!

Why give me that entire section where I had to escape the vault to avoid MURDER!!?? If they were going to back me in a corner (dialogue wise) that I would've gone after my father no matter what.

It would've made the dialogue option, "Why would you throw away the life we had?" WAY MORE INTENSE AND INTERESTING IF I COULD TELL HIM HIS ACTIONS UNINTENTIONALLY AFFECTED ME!!!

It could've been followed by a cute bonding moment where he apologizes and says while this life was never what he wanted for me he'll now help me adjust however he can.

[sysig]

Dr. ZEXenstein (Patreon)

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // byleth's flame cast a warm glow across the steps of the train station's walls , and dark shadows into its cracks and crevices. byleth treaded carefully , and had warned the others to do much the same. the station had always been something of an oddity in downtown arcanus. it was one of the few places that had always been left abandoned. and seemingly for a long while.

cobwebs were strung across the rafters high overhead , and the cool stone within which the station had been carved was rife with large cracks and crumbling debris from disrepair. ornate tiles that must have once brightly shone were faded and cracked , but still remained in the archways of the station.

byleth came to pause only when they had descended far enough to come across the archway that had read , in large ornate letters , sonata station. the ticket booth and entrance tunstiles were further within.

"this was the last place the girl seemed to have seen before her communications stopped," byleth noted, lifting her flame higher. "i'd imagine she went farther in. but let's take a good look around just in case."

@dragonhcrt / @chenshixianyou || detectives !

[urcoolgf]

MISS POSSESSIVE

pairing. bf¡rafe && reader

content. fluff. drinking. violence if you squint.

summary. rafe’s getting some unwanted attention at a bar, so his girlfriend has to step in (obviously inspired by ‘miss possessive’ by tate mcrae)

the music was loud, bodies everywhere, lights flashing, but all you could focus on was the girl eyeing your boyfriend. you figured it would be fun for you and rafe to have a night out. he’d been under a lot of stress lately, and you wanted to give him a chance to forget about it all. although, the only thing you were about to forget were your manners if this bitch got any closer to your man.

you had just quickly gone to the bathroom to fix yourself, only to come back out to some blonde trying to hang off your boyfriend’s shoulder. rafe seemed clearly uninterested, shrugging her hands off of him without even touching her, an agitated look on his face as he scanned the crowd for you. her eyes, on the other hand, were scanning him. up and down his body, shifting to his hands, then back to his face—basically having a staring competition with his lips.

he didn’t even acknowledge her, still trying to shrug her off of him until his eyes finally met yours. his body seemed to relax ever so slightly, and a look of relief washed over his face. he mouthed “help me” to you with wide eyes.

you looked toward the ground, shaking your head and laughing as you walked towards him. the audacity. you had only been gone a few minutes, meaning this girl had to have been plotting before you left. you finally navigated through the crowd, rafe’s smile now evident as you clasped onto his bicep.

“hey, girl! something i can help you with?,” you asked with a fake smile. you didn’t care if she knew it was fake, she was flirting with your man.

“i’m kinda busy here… can’t you tell?,” she retorted, brushing her hand against rafe’s shoulder which he quickly jerked away from her.

“busy with my man? yeah, i can see that,” you replied, still smiling, still clinging to him. your nails were basically digging into his bicep. did it hurt? a little. did rafe care? not one bit.

“your man? news to me…,” she sighed dramatically as if you were ‘too late’ to snatch him up, “that’s odd, because he was just about to take me home, weren’t you, pretty boy?,”

“no. i wasn’t. don’t call me that,” rafe’s demeanor was serious, and his brows furrowed out of frustration. her voice annoyed him, and hearing any other girl call him that made his stomach churn. this is what he got for being good looking you thought.

“aw c’mon, pretty boy, be nice to the girl, yeah?,” you responded, looking up at himself, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. rafe just gave you a puzzled look—he didn’t know what you were doing, but he didn’t dare question you.

"listen here, pretty girl. i suggest you get your hands off my boyfriend before i make you take them off," you turned to her, making direct eye contact as your eyes narrowed.

"oh, you're gonna make me?," she let out a breathy laugh, looking around as if she was ready to throw hands in this very bar—how classy, you thought.

"no, seriously. get your hands. off my man," you said, finally releasing your hold on rafe, and moving to stand right in front of her, "look, i get it… i mean he's rafe cameron. you wanna say you fucked rafe cameron, yeah?," you continued, "but, take the hint sweetheart, the only one he's fucking tonight… is me." rafe just stood there, watching the interaction go down. you were now in front of him—separating him from the girl—and he had to admit it was sexy as hell.

"because there's only two ways you're getting fucked tonight– either you take home the next man who walks in, or i fuck you up," you finished, grabbing rafe, and walking away.

"psycho bitch! you think you could do shit to me?! i'd kick your ass, you entitled brat!," she exclaimed across the bar, making some people near her freeze.

"oh, this bitch needs to be put down," you said quietly, letting go of rafe's hand, walking back to the girl. the next thing rafe sees is you dragging the girl out of the bar by her hair.

"you clearly haven't seen the 1am side of me… i'm two drinks in, and you just can't leave me and my man alone. you're in for a treat," you whispered into her ear as you yanked her to keep up with you. eventually, you made it to the sidewalk outside of the bar.

rafe followed you out of the bar. he waited by the door, sipping his drink, just enjoying the show. most guys would be concerned, but you knew how to handle yourself, and rafe was never one to stop you. plus, it wasn't really his place—acting like he didn't do the same thing to any man who dared breathe near you.

"you wanted to start a bar fight? how classy," sarcasm cutting through the night air, "didn't your mother ever teach you to always take that shit outside?," you laughed, finally releasing your hold on her hair.

"you're fucking insane!," she screamed, now holding the spot on her head you dragged her by.

"what happened, pretty girl? thought you were gonna 'kick my ass'?," every sentence you spoke at this point was accompanied by a laugh– what could you say? you were amused. you could hear rafe chuckling softly, clearly just as amused as you.

"this is assault! i'm going to the cops, you crazy bitch!," she said before storming off.

"good luck, sweetheart! safe travels!," you yelled after her, laughing as you walked back over to rafe who just put his arm around you, guiding you back into the bar.

"so much for a relaxing night," he said once you got back to the counter, ordering another drink.

"i dunno… i certainly had fun," you looked at him with a sinister smile on your face.

you were fucking insane about him… and he loved it.

little did you know, later that night rafe would have a similar altercation with some guy who tried to take a picture of your ass when you weren't looking…

this one did end in a hospital call though—and not for rafe.

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© URCOOLGF. est. 2025

[jayaury]

Hell of a Party

A short story from October! Tried to capture those autumn vibes. Plenty more you know where! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury

. . .

Sid squinted through the windshield at what could generously be called a road. Damn thing was more rut than gravel, and the trees were so overgrown he could hear them scraping at the roof and sides of his old Chevy like groping hands. All of which made the midnight drive a risky thing

“Chris, are you sure there’s a house out here?” he asked as he tried to peer through the blackness. “We’re well outside town.”

“Sure, man,” Chris said affably from the passenger seat. “Just keep on a little further.”

Sid glanced over at his friend. He did like Chris, no question of that. They’d met in Folklore 102, and surprisingly hit it off. Where Sid was more withdrawn, Chris had been a party animal, embracing college life like a typical frat boy. Recently, he’d been going to some special parties. He’d been a bit vague on details, but had been badgering Sid to come with him for over a week. Sid had finally agreed just to shut him up.

That said, Sid was curious about those late-night parties. Because Chris had changed since he’d started going to them. For one, he started wearing those stupid sunglasses all the time like he was perpetually hung over. And he’d also become…

Well, stupider, to be honest.

Not that Chris had been terribly brilliant before. There was a reason he was taking folklore 102, which was notoriously easy. Well, one of two reasons. The other was that the female to male ratio was three to one. Sid stole a glance at Chris again, who was grinning, leaning back in the seat, those strange tinted glasses masking his eyes, lumberjack-style plaid jacked undone.

Chris suddenly jerked forward, grabbing the dash and pointing. “There! There it is!”

Sid jumped and swung his attention back to the road, peering ahead.

It took him a moment, but then he saw it. Jutting out of the tangled forest was a large house. Classically Victorian, it crouched among trees stripped to skeletal limbs by autumn’s chill. Tiled roofs rose in minarets and bay windows pushed forward, spilling out a brilliant yellow glow. Shadows flickered against the panes, and he could faintly hear the thud of music beating through the night.

Yet something felt… off about the house. Out of place. Sid had a hard time believing a building like that would be out in the middle of the boonies. Especially with the road in this condition. Yet, the evidence was before his eyes.

“How did you even find this place?” he asked.

“Got invited,” Chris said, practically bouncing in his seat, grinning like an idiot. His hands slapped the dash in eager drumming. “Come on, man. Bring us in! They got started without us, and you don’t wanna miss the fun!”

Still puzzled, Sid cruised closer, gravel crunching under the wheels as he brought them up. He parked among several other cars and got out, scanning the building. Again, he found the place odd. If felt like it should be more overgrown with the treeline so close. Instead, it looked like someone had just… plopped the house down in the middle of the woods.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Chris said, bounding out of the car and towards the porch. Sid followed more slowly, walking up the creaking steps and to the door, the sound of music growing. Weird stuff. Felt very instrumental and vibey. Flutes and horns with a pulsing beat that seemed to vibrate in his gut and throb in his groin.

Chris rang the bell, the chime nearly lost in the music. A moment later the door flew open, yellow light spilling out and illuminating a woman that made Sid stare.

She was simply gorgeous. Full figured and wearing a tight red dress that hugged every aching curve, her hair was a frizz of red whose style probably went out of date in the 70’s. Those hoop earrings surely had, but her face and body made you forget about anything else. She radiated gleeful fun, and the way her breasts strained the red fabric with her every breath riveted Sid’s attention.

“Beezie!” Chris cried, throwing his arms open.

“Baby!” Beezie replied in a sonorous, throaty voice that made Sid shiver and flush. Her arms enfolded Chris, pulling him in against her expansive chest, her lush red lips planting a kiss on his cheek. “Look at you. It’s so late! And this must be your friend!”

“Uh, hi,” Sid said, feeling hot just from her look. “Sid. Nice to-”

“How silly! We greet like this,” she said, and before Sid could respond her arms had enveloped him, tugged him in, and mashed him against her chest. The feel of her breasts made him flash hot, and that’s when her lips met his.

Sid jolted, sucking in a breath ladened with her flowery perfume. He couldn’t quite suppress a soft moan as her tongue slid against his lips, barely asking permission before pushing into his mouth. He’d never had a kiss like that, which seemed to last forever yet end far too soon when she broke apart with an audible pop, leaning back and admiring him as he blinked, dazed.

“Mmm, lovely to meet you!” Beezie said merrily. “I just know you’re going to be a big hit. And thank you, Chris. We always need more boys at these things. Just can’t get enough!”

Chris grinned stupidly, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Beezie. I was a good boy.”

“You certainly are. Such a good boy,” Beezie cooed, patting his cheek fondly.

Chris bit his lip, practically quivering with delight, much to Sid’s amazement.

“But come in! Come in out of the cold,” Beezie exclaimed as she stepped aside, ushering the both of them into the foyer, giving Sid a slight pat on his ass that made him start. “It’s nice and warm in here.”

Warm was right. No sooner had Sid stepped over the threshold it felt like the temperature went up twenty degrees.

“Put your coat anywhere, sweetie. And go check out the party! Chris? I think I should give you your reward, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes Beezie,” Chris panted. “Good boy!”

“A very good boy,” Beezie cooed before giving Sid another pat to urge him into the house.

He found himself being shooed into the living room, where the party was certainly in full swing, and it quickly became apparent that they really did need more men around. The place was absolutely filled with women. Practically three to every man. He could tell because every guy in there had at least two beautiful, flirty girls hanging off him.

Sid hesitated, then sidled into the room, trying to avoid attention. He was surprised to see pretty much every guy from his folklore class, and definitely every girl too. But there were others he didn’t recognize, and no one he was friends with.

In search of something to do, he hit up a large table at the back of the room filled with beer kegs and solo cups. He filled one, then drifted through the room uncertainly, eventually making his way to an empty spot against the lacquered wood wall.

He sighed, leaning there, watching the party from a distance. He swirled the beer he’d nabbed and glanced at the suds. He was never good at socializing at these things. Too bland. Too boring. He’d hoped that Chris would at least have introduced him a bit, but clearly that wasn’t happening. He grimaced. He shouldn’t of come. Was it too early to just… go home?

“Mind if I join you?”

He looked up in surprise. A woman stood before him. Beautiful, in a tight white top and a pair of cut off jeans that showed off her thighs. Her hair was a rich, thick mane of black and her eyes sparkled green. A pair of large glasses sat on her lovely face. Glasses that stirred some memory he couldn’t quite place.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

She giggled. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” she asked teasingly.

Sid flushed. “I uh…”

“It’s Millie.”

“Millie!”

She laughed, cocking a hip and resting her hand on it. “Surprised?” she asked.

He was. The Millie he knew was a mousey young woman from class, whose fashion tended towards bulky sweaters. Fairly popular, she’d often strike up conversations with him. He’d suspected she was interested in him, but never really believed it.

Now though…

She giggled. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted, and that was true enough. He couldn’t help but stare at her chest, her breasts absolutely straining her tight top. So that’s what those frumpy sweaters had hid. God damn…

“I bet,” she said, her hips cocking, the movement making her chest bounce. “In class I tend to go a bit more model student. Around here though?” she said, smiling as she tucked some black hair behind her ear, eying him through lidded lashes. “I can be a bit more… honest about myself.”

“You can?” he said, swallowing thickly.

“Oh yeah,” she whispered, stepping closer, her hand playing onto his thigh. “Very honest.”

Sid’s pulse jumped and his pants grew tight at that touch. How her fingers slid along his jeans, the heat of her palm radiating through the denim. Alright, so, looked like she had been interested in him after all. Very interested! More the fool him for fumbling that. Had to play it cool now though.

“You uh, come to these often?” he asked, and immediately mentally kicked himself.

“Sometimes,” she murmured, sliding in closer. “Quite often, actually. I’ve been telling Chris to get you to come for ages. Finally had to ask Momma Beezie to make that magic happen…”

“Oh, well, it’s… not really my scene,” he admitted.

“True,” she murmured, pressing still closer, her breasts squishing against his chest. “Shall we change that?”

Sid sucked in a breath, his pulse pounding, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the pungent perfume that surrounded her. Something thick. Spicy. Something that seemed to rush up his nose and into his head like a puff of pink smoke.

“Ch-change it?” he gasped.

She winked, her hand lacing with his. “This way.”

He didn’t resist as she pulled him out of the room and towards the stairs. He was honestly eager to get away from the living room with all the noise and sight of horny just-adults discovering each other’s bodies. Especially when it sounded a hell of a lot like he was about to make some fascinating discoveries about Millie’s body. He climbed the creaking wooden steps, eyes riveted to her ass. Rooms lined the hall up there, and Sid heard distinct sounds of thumping and… were those moans?

Oh.

Oh wow.

Sid felt his face warm again as he realized what was happening, and he tried to hide his excited expression as Millie dragged him to a particular door. Play it cool, Sid. Nice and cool. He took a deep breath and sucked in more of her perfume. He felt himself flush further, his eyes again trailing to her plush ass.

She glanced back at him, winked, her hand turning the doorknob. “Hope you’re ready for some real oh for fuck’s sake!”

Sid barely heard her. He was too busy staring at what was happening in the room. A man had been tied spreadeagle on the bed, a blindfold over his eyes and what looked like birthday candles semi-melted on his naked chest. A blonde was crouched in front of him, her head bobbing, her naked ass bared to them in a full and glorious moon.

At the sound of Millie’s voice the woman on the bed paused and raised her head with a slurping sound that made Sid’s legs wobble with sympathetic excitement. Turning, the naked blonde looked at them with innocent baby blues, a playful smile alighting her ruby lips before her tongue slid over them suggestively.

“Hey Millie,” she said.

“Jezebel, you fucking whore!” Millie growled. “I told everyone my room was off limits tonight.”

“Mmm,” Jezebel whined, arching a little, her plump breasts bouncing playfully on her chest, nipples jutting proudly. “But you have the biggest bed. And I needed a big bed for what I wanted to do.”

“That’s not… is that my organic honey?”

“Is it?” Jezebel said innocently, glancing at an empty squeeze bottle on the side table. “I found it in a drawer. I thought you were done with it.”

“You…” Millie seethed, and Sid stared at the livid anger of his fellow Folklore student. Even her hair seemed to be writhing in rage.

As he took a wary step back, Millie seemed to remember him and turned a sharply sweet smile on him.

“Sid. Could you wait out here for just a minute,” she said with strained politeness. “Just need to have a quick chat with my… friend…”

“Uh, sure. No problem.”

“Great,” Millie cooed and shut the door on him.

No sooner had it closed than he heard Millie’s muffled shouting as she chewed out Jezebel, who sounded like she was just laughing.

Bouncing on his heels, Sid uncertainly looked around the hallway. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the situation, and he dearly didn’t want to be a part of it further. But he couldn’t drag himself away. His body still zinged from Millie’s touch, and his pulse was warm and hot with lust. He looked around the hall for some distraction. There were a few pictures on the walls, but inevitably and unsurprisingly, his attention was drawn to the other rooms.

He stepped closer to the first one and heard whispered giggles and a man moaning. The one beside that had little more than the frantic creaking of bed springs.

His face grew warmer with every sound, yet he felt oddly compelled to continue. It wasn’t doing his erection any favours, and just the thought of Millie’s affection once she finished her little… argument more than kept him from wandering too far.

Then he reached a particular door. One that was unusually quiet. Surprised, he listened closer. There was… something. He pressed his ear to the wood. He heard a groan. Not one in pleasure though. It sounded a little like pain.

Sid looked around nervously. Was someone in trouble? It wouldn’t surprise him. At a party like this, who would notice? Hell, he doubted someone screaming bloody murder could be heard with the music downstairs on so loud. He could practically feel the floor vibrate from the bass.

He looked again at the door. Considered getting someone, but who? And he didn’t even know if something was wrong. How stupid would he look then?

He bit his lip. Well… he should at least take a look.

Grasping the knob, almost hoping to find it locked, he held his breath as it turned easily. He looked again around again. Then opened the door just a sliver and peered through.

The scent of booze was thick in the air. So heavy he felt a little light-headed just from the fumes. He squinted and saw a number of kegs all gathered about a mattress slumped in the corner. And sprawled among them, draped over some pillows like some empress with the worst hangover ever, was the bustiest woman he’d ever seen.

She was dressed in stockings and nothing else, her plump breasts bared, heaving with her slow breaths. Her head was thrown back against the slope of pillows arranged around the floor, her hair done up in a pair of pink pigtails.

“Ohhhh,” she groaned again, shifting listlessly.

Sid hesitated a moment more, then eased the door open and tiptoed inside. “Hey?” he called.

No response.

He moved over her, the scent of alcohol so strong it made his head spin again. He found his eyes wandering once more to those impressive breasts. Huge. Soft. Squeezable…

He shook his head, which momentarily cleared it. “Excuse me?” he said, nudging her shoulder.

“Mrrrrr,” she groaned, head lolling.

“Are… are you okay?” he asked.

“Mrph…” She blinked blearily and looked up at him. “Oh,” she said, her voice slurred and lazy, but a smile lit up her face. “Ohhhh. You’re… kinda cute…”

“Uh, thanks,” Sid said. “I was just… are you okay?”

“Nooooo,” she groaned, head tilting again, her feet kicking grumpily. “Ugh. My sisters are… are such bitches, you know?”

“Your sisters?”

“Yeeaaaaah. They said… they said I had to stay in here for the party. Right? Because I… because I always go after the boys too… too hard. And I mean, I mean it’s not my fault, right? If you don’t… you know, train ‘em properly, of course you’ll lose ‘em. I mean… I mean look at these,” she said, cupping her immense breasts. Hefting them. “Who wouldn’t… wouldn’t get addicted to these babies?”

Sid stared. Her breasts were truly massive. And they looked soaked with something. The smell implied liquor. But… but was it just him? Or did it look a bit like her nipples were… well, dripping?

“I uh…”

“Hey,” she said, looking at him closer, a lazy smile turning her lips. “Did you come here because you were, like, worried about me?”

“...Kinda,” he admitted. “You sounded… not good.”

“Mmm. That’s because I’m noooot,” she drawled, rolling forward and onto her hands and knees. “Not at all.”

Sid wasn’t sure he liked the look in her eyes. The gleam of wicked amusement. The hazy heat that burned in those dark orbs as she began to crawl towards him. “O-oh? Why uh, why is that?” he asked, retreating, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Because I haven’t eaten in just… daaaaays. I’m soooo hungry,” she said, her lower lip pushed out in a pout. But still those eyes burned. Still they hungered.

“I uh, think there was a chip bowl downstairs,” Sid stammered. Then his back hit the wall with a thump. “I could probably…”

“That’s so sweeeeeet,” she cooed, stopping in front of him, pushing her plush bum onto her heels, her heavy breasts bouncing as she straightened, level with his crotch. “But I’m hungry for something special.”

“S-special?” Sid squeaked, his mind understanding what was happening, yet unwilling to quite believe it.

“Oh yeaaaah,” she breathed, her hand rising, finger sliding along the unsubtle bulging at the front of his jeans. “Mmm. And got a feast… fit for a queen right here.”

“I… uh… miss, I don’t…”

“Call me Brandy,” she said, the tips of her fingers pinching his zipper.

“Brandy, I ah!”

He gasped as she tugged, his fly sliding down, his cock fairly bursting into the open, throbbing lewdly. Brandy gasped, her eyes lighting up and her tongue stroking her lips. “Oh fuck yeah,” she breathed, leaning in, inhaling deeply as she lovingly nuzzled his cock. “Oh fuck yesssss. Soooo good.”

Sid gasped, stiffening as her tongue slid from her lips, teasing the tip of his manhood. “B-Brandy! I uh, I don’t think…”

“That’s good,” Brandy breathed, her tongue stroking his throbbing tip, teasing with every lap. “Men don’t need to think. Just gotta fuck. Gotta cum. And Brandy’s gonna get herself a good taste…”

Sid knew he should tell her no. Push her away. Especially with Millie around. What would she think? What would she say? What if someone walked in?

Then, Brandy’s plush lips parted.

Slid over his head.

Down his length.

And every other thought just flew out of his mind.

“O-oh fuuuuuck!” Sid groaned, head falling back.

“Mmmm,” Brandy replied, her lips gliding over his shaft, slow and gentle. Savouring it like he was a fine glass of wine. Her free hand came up, pulling more of him out into the open, her fingers cradling his balls, spoiling his manhood with affections he hadn’t even dreamed were possible.

“Hooooly fuck,” Sid gasped, his hands groping for something to hold onto and finding her pigtails. He grabbed them like a pair of handlebars, and for an instant he thought again of pushing her away. Pushing her off.

But then her lips slid up him again.

Then down.

And instead he started to thrust.

“Mmmmm,” Brandy moaned, letting him set the pace. Letting him fuck her face, her breasts slapping lewdly against her chest and his legs. Sid groaned, lost in the sensations consuming him as he fucked the gorgeous coed’s mouth. Fucking hell! No wonder she kept stealing boyfriends. Lips that good were an utter sin!

“Fuck,” Sid gasped, knowing it was wrong what he was doing, but knowing only made it all the sweeter. “Oh fuck yes. Take it… take it deep. Use your tongue more. I… nnnnn!”

He groaned, head falling back. Fuuuuuck. It was unreal how good it was! He was primed pretty much as soon as he’d walked into the house, and it only made the sensation that much sweeter. He was absolutely losing himself in those lips. In that mouth. The feeling of her hot tongue sliding around his shaft driving him towards the brink!

He was hammering her now, pounding into her mouth, and her exertions easily matched his. If anything, she seemed more desperate to make him cum. More eager to taste his seed. Her fingers stroked and massaged his balls. Tender. Encouraging. Insistent. Practically pumping them. Massaging them. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, he wasn’t going to last. He just wasn’t going to last! He… he was… he was…

“F-fuuuuuuuuck!” Sid cried, legs quivering, a cry of helpless surrender escaping his lips as he came, pumping into Brandy’s mouth, feeling her adoringly guzzle his hot seed, moaning happily.

The pleasure was unlike anything he’d felt before. Strong. Heavy. He felt his head spin as he fell against the wall, weakness radiating through him as he basked in the afterglow, Brandy’s lips caressing his cock, milking out the last few drops she could.

“Holy… holy shit,” Sid breathed. Then he looked down and saw what was sprouting from Brandy’s bare back. “Holy shit!”

He stared at the pair of leathery bat wings in dull incomprehension. For a moment he thought they were some strange cosplay or props. But then he saw them flutter. Flex.

And noticed too the spaded tail sprouting right above her luscious ass.

“Mmm?” Brandy hummed, lifting her head, revealing the pair of horns growing from her brow. Not to mention the slits of her pupils giving him bedroom eyes that sent his cock throbbing despite his horror.

He gaped at her, for a moment too shocked to do anything but stare. Then he saw her notice his cock, and a hungry grin lit up her face again.

“I… I g-gotta go,” he gasped, cramming his shaft back into his pants, holding them shut with one hand as he staggered back to the door.

“Wha… hey! Waaaait!” Brandy wailed.

Sid didn’t. Even though her plaintive cry pulled at him like a leash, he stumbled out the room and slammed the door shut behind him. His hands fumbled with his fly and zipper as he thudded down the stairs. Something was wrong in the house. Something was so very wrong!

He reached the landing and looked up, and had the second shock of his night.

The room was awash in a sea of red and blacks. The lamps had been turned down, their glow casting deep shadows over writhing bodies. He saw his entire class there, rutting like animals. The drunken making out had progressed much further. Not a man there had less than three women grinding on him.

But they were far more than women.

Everywhere he looked, bat-like wings were fluttered. Spaded tails lashed with delight and horns glistened in the glow of the lamps. Clothing had been abandoned, leaving curves of unearthly perfection and tantalizing seduction on full display as men were drowned in kisses of delight. As breasts were massaged and bodies arched, throats moaning in sultry pleasure. The slap of flesh thumped to the music. Fangs gleamed between ruby lips, and men moaned, their eyes lidded, but what looked like pink hearts throbbing in their pupils.

Sid staggered back a step. He looked across the room at the exit and knew that was a lost cause. He dared not cross that orgiastic trap. He retreated another and his back hit something with a hollow thunk.

A door!

He reflexively reached down, his searching hand finding a handle. He turned it, and fairly tumbled backwards into darkness.

Getting his feet back under him he shut the door quickly. Darkness enveloped him and he groped about the walls. A light switch. There had to be a light switch! He sighed in relief as his finger found one and he flicked it on.

The buzz of the bulb illuminated some sort of study. He looked around with bewilderment at the bookcases filled with rotting tomes. The scattered shelves filled with jars and strange artifacts.

“What in the…” he murmured, though really, he shouldn’t be surprised. An occult side room was far from the strangest thing he’d seen tonight. And honestly, fit the whole thing pretty well. Especially given the rather large bed occupying a far corner, the sheets rumpled. Not much of a mystery what that had been used for lately.

As he surveyed the room, he suddenly heard the door creak. “Sid?”

He whipped around to find Millie standing in the doorway, peering down at him through her large glasses. “There you are,” she sighed, stepping inside. “I told you not to wander off. Ah,” she added, looking at his face, a pout pushing out her lips. “And you saw something you shouldn’t have.”

Sid retreated several steps. “S-stay back, demon!”

Millie’s pout deepened. “Oh dammit,” she growled. “Which of those dumb bitches told you? No, wait. It was Brandy, wasn’t it? That stupid bimbo. Is it any wonder we lock her up when the party gets started?”

“I-I’m not kidding,” Sid said, looking around. His eyes locked on a long knife carved with runes on a shelf. He snatched it up, brandishing it before him. “Seriously! Don’t come any closer!”

Millie sighed, looking more exasperated than angry. “Honestly. Makes me wonder why I bother putting all this work into the disguises,” she mused, and snapped her fingers.

Sid’s eyes bugged as her clothes seemed to burn away in a flash of fire. Plump breasts bounced into the open. Dark horns curled from her brow and long legs climbed to sensual thighs. She stood at ease, one hand resting on a lush hip, her breasts giving a teasing bounce as she shifted her weight, her skin tinting a rich red before his eyes.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped.

“There,” Millie said with a smirk. “Now that’s the look I was aiming for.”

“S-stay away!” he yelped, taking another step back. “You won’t… won’t have my soul!”

Millie giggled. “Oh,” she purred, taking a lazy step forward, her wings giving a beat, wafting the sweetness of her perfume into him again. “Is that what you think I’m after?”

“A-aren’t you?” Sid demanded, retreating again, his body tingling as he inhaled her scent. His cock throbbing in his pants again.

She gave him a pitying look. “Poor Sid,” she crooned. “Such a silly boy. Sure, maybe I’d eat the souls of the rest of those dummies in there. But not you. I wanted to save you for something extra… special…”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Do you like my breasts?” she asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“It’s not a hard question,” Millie asked, cupping those plump crimson orbs, hefting them teasingly. “Not hard like you are. Do you like them? Most do. They’re so big and soft and bouncy…”

Sid gaped, his eyes instantly riveted to those ample orbs as she gave them a teasing bounce. “I… I don’t…”

“They’re even bigger when I’m in my true form, aren’t they?” Millie crooned, squeezing them together, squishing them with another bounce. “So big and soft and bouncy. So firm. That’s the problem with playing human. You have to be more… realistic. More believable. But we all know what men really like, don’t we? They like them big. And soft. And bouncy!”

Catching himself staring, Sid jerked his attention back to her face. “Y-you won’t trick me!”

“Now Sid, don’t be silly,” Millie giggled, her eyes smoky, her smirk teasing. “I’m being more open with you than ever. I’m baring it all for you. My horns. My skin. My fat, bouncy tits.”

His gaze wavered. He was breathing hot and fast. Breathing in that perfume. That heavy, spicy perfume… “You… I…”

“Now now. Don’t pretend,” Millie cooed. “I know how much you love staring at them. I could feel you fighting not to look at them whenever we talked in the halls. So naughty of you trying to resist like that, Sid. Why, every time I took a deep breath, your eyes would just… pop!”

She gave her chest a sudden bounce. Sid felt his breath catch. His thoughts swirl and froth. He tried to shake it off, but his head felt strangely light. His hands shaking as they gripped the knife, its tip wavering.

“I… I don’t…”

“You were trying sooooo hard to be a good boy,” Millie cooed, stepping nearer. Nearer. Every movement punctuated by a swing of her hips. A flap of her wings. A bounce of her chest. “Being soooo polite. Soooo sweet. Sooooo caring. Never thinking that I wanted you to stare. That I wanted you to drool. That I wanted you to ask me out so I could ride that cock of yours and bury you under the tits you loved so much.”

Sid whimpered, his face burning hot. Flushed as she continued to lazily approach. Her wings fluttering, framing her, outlining her gorgeous figure, her hooves clicking on the floor.

Click.

Click.

Click.

“S-stay away,” Sid whimpered, suddenly recalling he should say that, yet the command lacked conviction. His head pounded with his pulse. Throbbing like his cock. His cock begging him to abandon reason. Abandon everything. Just fuck her. Touch her. Adore her. “I m-mean it!”

Millie smirked, and he knew she sensed his hesitation. Her eyes lidding in tantalizing hunger.

“You’re such a good boy,” Millie purred. “Always so sweet and nice. I’ve had my eye on you for weeks. But you just never seemed to come around. Always so shy and nervous around pretty girls. So I decided I’d better take the initiative. But not to date you. No no. I couldn’t stand that, Sid. Couldn’t stand you doing something silly like trying to be a gentleman and waiting for the fourth or fifth or sixth date before holding hands. I don’t have that kind of patience, Sid. I want you now. I want you to pound my pussy into pudding. To rut me like a fucking slut! To mold and squeeze my tits like dough and suck my nipples until I’m fucking putty!”

The fire in her eyes commanded Sid’s attention. Mostly. He still found it so hard to look away from her crimson breasts. How hard her nipples had become. How her fingers teased and rolled those buds in desperate arousal.

“I don’t just want your soul, Sid,” she continued, her words silken. Hot. Wrapping around him like the coils of a snake. Squeezing so sweetly. So lovingly. “I want you. I want to make you mine. All mine. Your silly mind. Your hot fucking body. And yeah,” she shrugged, her breasts again bouncing, “I want your soul too. But I want it all, Sid. I want you. I want to entrance you and love you and make you my adoring hunk of manmeat. I want to wrap you around my figure so we can make a whole new nest of hot succubi somewhere else.

“And I had the perfect evening set up for it,” she sighed dreamily. “A sweet little thing in my bedroom. Just you and me. We’d make out, and by the time I had you stripped and on my bed, you wouldn’t have noticed if I had two heads let alone wings and horns. But no,” she growled. “My idiot sisters had to ruin my evening. As always. So here we are.”

The back of his leg hit the bed frame, and Sid yelped as he toppled over and onto the sheets. The soft mattress bounced him, and he found Millie standing at the foot of the bed, smirking down at him, her golden eyes hungry and greedy.

“But then,” she purred. “There’s a certain appeal to this too.”

His hand flashed up belatedly, brandishing the knife. She glanced at it with amusement. “Oh Sid,” she hummed. “So defiant. So brave. But I have something I bet you’d much rather fill those hands with.”

His eyes returned to her breasts as she gave them another bounce. “I… I won’t,” he gasped.

“Just put it down, Sid,” she murmured, climbing onto the bed, straddling his legs, the heat of her body radiating through him and to his crotch. Her wings beat again, blasting his face with her perfume. His knife wavered as she loomed above him, smirking down, still cradling the plump orbs of her chest. “Just for a minute. Just to see if my big… soft… bouncy breasts are really as soft as they look. I promise,” she cooed, her hand stealing into his lap, opening his pants, “I’ll make it so… very… good…”

Sid wavered. Sweet fuck those breasts were so big. So soft. He inhaled deeply, and her perfume swam up his nose and into his head like pleasant pink clouds. Would it… would it really be so bad? Just for a bit? Those guys in the living room had seemed so happy.

Couldn’t he try?

Just for a moment?

“That’s it,” Millie murmured, her voice soothing, coaxing as the tip of the dagger dipped. “Just put it aside. Keep it close. You can snatch it up any time. I’m utterly at your mercy.”

That was a lie.

A bald faced lie.

But Sid slowly lowered his arm.

Set the knife down beside him.

“Such a good boy,” she said with a throaty, mocking note that made his cock twitch in his pants. Then she grabbed his belt, and hauled down both his pants and boxers.

His cock sprang up, twitching, thick and hard. Millie’s eyes flashed and a hungry smile worked onto her lips. “Finally,” she purred, sliding down him until her ass was lifted into the air, her tail winding above her bottom as she fairly drooled over his cock. She nuzzled his length, moaning, the feel of her tongue sliding up his manhood shooting through Sid like liquid lust.

“O-ohhhhh!” he groaned.

“Mmm. That’s… wait,” Millie said, a pout forming on her lips. “This tastes like… booze?” She gave him a sharp look. “Did that bitch Brandy already suck you off?”

“A… a bit” Sid whimpered.

Millie scowled. “Stupid slut,” she growled, her fingers wrapping around his length, starting to stroke him. “She’s always being such a brat! I swear, Beezie never should have brought her over.”

Sid failed to answer, only panting gasps escaping his lips as her fingers pumped him, sending aching pleasure throbbing to his balls.

“Guess that only choice is to thoroughly mark my territory,” Millie said with another playful smirk.

“Y-yeah?” Sid gasped.

“Oh yeah,” Millie purred, lifting her head to his cock and letting her tongue glide along his length.

Sid cried out in delight as her lips reached his tip, kissing the twitching head, her tongue lapping up the first drops of pre. She moaned at the taste, positively lavishing him with her affections before she began to slide down, down. Millie’s head dipping, taking more and more of him into her throat.

Sid’s eyes rolled back. A moan of pure, undiluted ecstasy escaping him as the possessive succubi’s head began to bob, those sinfully perfect lips gliding up and down his manhood, taking him deep into the warm tightness of her throat.

“Oh f-fuuuuuuck,” Sid moaned, his hands clutching the rumpled sheets as Millie did her work, masterfully sucking him off, her fingers stroking the twitching orbs of his balls. It was a world of difference from Brandy’s work. Soft, tender, adoring, he could feel her love for him in every movement of her lips. His whole body trembled with pleasure. Surged with ecstasy.

“Oh… oh… Oh f-fuck yesssss!” Sid cried out, arching on the bed, his balls tightening as he surrendered his load at last.

“Mmmm,” the succubus groaned as she gulped down his hot seed, her lips dragging off his cock with an audible pop. Millie arched up, smirking down at him with smoky, lidded eyes.

“Mmm. Delish,” she purred.

“Holy… holy fuck,” Sid gasped.

“See?” she said playfully as she crawled above him, her tail swirling above her, forming lazy hearts. “Told you it would be good, my sexy stud. And I’m going to make you so happy, my pretty boy. When I’m done, you are going to be so in love with me. So obsessed with me. You’ll never stop thinking about my tits. My ass. Never stop wanting to taste my lips and kiss my pussy.

“And then,” she purred, planting her hands on either side of his head, smirking down at him. “You and I are gonna go out there and make ourselves a love nest. We’re going to summon up more succubi. Conjure up even more cuties like me to enthrall some hot boys. But not you,” she cooed, kissing his cheek, the feel of her lips shooting through him like liquid fire. His mind squeezed in delight. “Not you, my pretty stud. Sure, I’ll let some of the girls have a taste if they’re very good. But you’re all mine, Sid. My pretty thrall. My sexy dumb stud. And doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I-”

Her hips rocked back, and Sid gasped as the soft heat and slickness of her pussy brushed his shaft, stirring him again to aching hardness.

“What’s that? Didn’t quite catch it,” Millie cooed as she swung forward.

Her breasts bouncing.

Bouncing.

“I um… I…”

“You want to be mine?” Millie cooed, her rocking hips going a little lower, the tip of his cock rubbing her slit. Her perfume surrounding him in pink softness. Loving submission. “You wanna be my stud? My brainless boytoy? My hot, sexy plaything for me to corrupt and fuck and play with for ever and ever? Is that what you want? More of this?” she breathed, her breasts swaying above him, her pussy rubbing against his twitching cock. “More of me? More… of… my… tits?”

Sid panted, whimpering, almost whining in animalistic need for more of the beautiful succubus. More of her pussy. More of her breasts. He couldn’t look away. They enthralled him. The bounce. The sway. He caught her eyes, glowing hot like fire. Her smile filled with lust and amusement and knowing exactly what he would decide. Exactly what he would admit. Exactly what he would do for her.

Anything.

Anything at all.

“Y-yeah,” he gasped. “Y-yesss! Sounds… sounds gooood.”

Millie giggled. “Sure does,” she purred. “And that means you’re mine!”

Her hips dropped, her velvety pussy devouring his cock in a single stroke. Sid cried out beneath her as her hips met his, Millie moaning in ecstasy as she began to bounce, riding his cock with slow, loving strokes.

“Ohhhhhh,” she moaned. “Oh fuuuuck! My breasts. Oh fuck, Sid, grab my breasts. Grab your nnn… grab your biiiiig priiiiize!”

As if his hands were magnetized, they shot up and cupped those impressive orbs. He groaned in delight as he felt how soft they were. How plump. How absolutely perfect. Everything he’d dreamed they were. Even better than he could have imagined.

And his.

All his.

And he was all hers.

“Yes!” Millie cried, her pace increasing, the bed creaking under them as she fucked him. “Oh hells yes! Squeeze my tits. Kiss them. Lick them! Oh Sid. Oh hells, Sid, yes! Good boy. Oh gooood stud! Keep nnnn… keep going. I’m gonna cum. Ah. Yes. Yes! Gonna cum! And you’re gonna… you’re gonna gimme that mind. Make yourself mine. Give it all up to be mine! Oh fuck. Oh fuck, Sid! You can’t… I won’t l-let you cum until you say it! Until you beg me! Beg me to m-make you my stud!”

Sid didn’t hesitate a second. Almost before she finished speaking he was moaning, “Please! Please, Millie!” he cried, voice muffled by her expansive titflesh. “N-need to be yours! Gotta be yours! T-take it! Take anything! Just… just… just let me cuuuuum!”

A squeal of delight escaped Millie as her arms wrapped around his head, pulled him deep into her breasts, smothering him in her enthralling bosom. “Yes! Yes! Yesssss!” she wailed.

Sid felt her inner walls clamp around him, squeeze him in a shudder of rippling ecstasy. He groaned in pathetic pleasure as she came, her own orgasm milking his out of him. White light seemed to burst in his eyes as his balls tightened, cock pulsing as he gave her his seed in great, throbbing bursts. As he surrendered to the joy of her. To her breasts. To her pleasure.

The dagger was forgotten. His fear was forgotten. Everything was forgotten, sucked away in that moment of hedonistic bliss. Drained away like his seed. Sucked away by the gorgeous succubus above him. Taking his will. His soul.

Everything but her.

Everything but love for Millie.

Gorgeous Millie.

His perfect, beautiful mistress…

[drewsbuzzcut]

Puzzles & Questions

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses blurb

Warnings: none

Takes place: 2034

“Daddy?” Sloane hums, eyes still drawn to the puzzle piece in her hand as she tries to figure out where it goes.

“Yeah, bub?” Mat responds, putting down his own puzzle piece.

“Do you think mommy would let me wear her pink lip gloss? It’s super pretty,” the little girl says, catching Mat off guard because they were just talking about the puzzle in front of them.

“I don’t think she’d mind, but you can only wear it in the house.”

“I guess,” Sloane sighs with half of an eye roll.

Silence follows as the pair continue to focus on which piece is the right fit. They have that same dipped eyebrow expression that you find very cute.

Every now and then Sloane will look up at her father, smiling shyly. She’s happy that she can finally have a moment with him without her rowdy brothers around. They’ve already had a princess tea party and danced to music while Sloane tried to teach Mat some of the ballerina moves she’s recently learned. Let’s just say Sloane was full of giggles as the grown man continued to lose his balance. The videos and pictures will be shown to you later when Sloane tells you she captured evidence on Mat’s phone.

“Daddy?” Sloane breaks the peaceful silence, stretching her small limbs before settling in her daddy’s lap.

“I’m sleepy and want to cuddle,” she yawns and burrows more into his chest.

Mat’s heart melts, the love he has for his little girl unfurls around them as he holds her the way he used to when she was a baby.

The 5 year old blinks her eyes sleepily, but still finds the energy to hold both sides of her dad’s face. It’s soft and the girl’s way of telling him she loves him without actually saying it.

“I think I want to try hockey.” It’s said so softly that Mat almost doesn’t hear it.

“Oh yeah?” He tries not to seem too excited, afraid that she’ll change her mind.

“Yup. It looks like fun and I want to try to beat Nolie in a game,” she hums so nonchalantly, it makes Mat cackle.

Sloane giggles at his nose scrunch and then does it in return, sending them into a laughing fit.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Can you buy me shoes like mommy? The ones with the long stick on the bottom.” Sloane looks at him with a small smile, but wide and excited eyes.

“You mean heels?”

Mat doesn’t exactly know how to tell her no without making his little one sad.

“Yes, sir!” Sloane nods her head, eyes pleading and her lips already forming a pout. She knows her father’s hesitant silence means she probably won’t get her way.

“I want to be just like mommy,” Sloane declares.

“Okay. I’ll buy you some, so you can be like mommy.” He knows he shouldn’t say it, but he can’t help but say yes. He just wants his little girl to be happy.

Sloane lets out the loudest shriek and jumps up before throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

“Anything for Miss Sloane,” he hums, pressing many kisses to her cheeks.

Later that day, with help from you, Mat places an order for the colorful, plastic heels that he didn’t even know existed. Safe to say, he was glad he was able to keep his promise.

a/n: Idk how to feel about this, but I hope y’all enjoy!!

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies

Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.

You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.

It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.

And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.

The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.

Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.

“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.

“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.

“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”

The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.

“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.

“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.

The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.

“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.

“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.

Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.

Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.

The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.

“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.

“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.

Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.

There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.

It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.

“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.

Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.

“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.

It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.

Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.

Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.

Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.

Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.

And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.

“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.

“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.

“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”

Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.

“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.

The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.

Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?

“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.

“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.

“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.

“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”

“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.

Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.

“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.

The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.

Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.

You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.

Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.

The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.

“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.

You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.

There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.

Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.

“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.

Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.

When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.

Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.

You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.

“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.

“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.

“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.

The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.

Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.

Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.

The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.

You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?

You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?

You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.

“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.

“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.

That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.

Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.

“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.

The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.

Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.

“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.

But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.

Both of you know something is going to change.

As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.

Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.

You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.

It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.

“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.

It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.

Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.

It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.

You have the bite marks to prove it.

Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.

It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.

The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”

It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.

He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.

It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.

Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.

The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.

“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.

“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”

“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.

You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.

There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.

You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever

[privatehousesanatomy]

House X /maybe fem?)Reader where House falls in love with a singer he just cured. Maybe while checking if she can sing again and he plays the piano while she sings or something? I think that could be a cute one, because everytime I see House making Music, he seems so...emotional and vulnerable. :3

ONE MORE SONG - gregory house x fem!reader

this is a cute idea! i hope i was able to bring your vision to life <3 also, thanks so much for being my first request, i had a lot of fun writing this!

slight fluff ( it is house, after all )

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

you'd heard about vocal chord injuries all the time. singers strained their voices too hard during performances, especially as they got older, but you were still young. you did everything you could to protect your voice, and yet during rehearsal you found yourself unable to make a sound. at first you thought maybe you were coming down with something, but when a week passed and you had no other symptoms besides no voice, you decided to seek medical help.

there wasn't a single doctor who was able to help you. they ruled out everything from strep to laryngitis, and you even had tests done to rule out cancer. everything came back clean. you were suddenly deemed a medical mystery with no voice.

your symptoms began progressing shortly after that. you were having difficulties breathing and swallowing, and any last remnants of your voice that you might have had were slowly diminishing as well.

princeton-plainsboro teaching hospital was your last ditch effort in figuring out what was wrong with you. doctor gregory house claimed to be one of the best diagnosticians in the country, if not the world, so you were putting a lot of faith in him to figure out what was wrong with you. you were warned right from the jump that you likely wouldn't meet the man in charge of your medical file, and it was something you came to terms with. however, he surprised everyone by taking a major interest in you as a patient rather than you as a puzzle. music was a hobby of his, and it wasn't often that his patients shared that hobby.

the first time you met house, you weren't sure how to feel. he was this grumpy, older man who walked with a cane and looked to be the epitome of the word "miserable". he was sarcastic and rude, not giving a damn about how he treated his employees, nurses, or even you. and yet there was something about him that you couldn't get enough of. almost as if you could see through the facade he put up.

your diagnosis was bilateral vocal cord paralysis, though you were lucky that it didn't kill you. there were a few close calls, but they were able to reverse the paralysis with surgery, and for the last year, you've been going to voice therapy to strengthen your vocal cords and improve your breath control while speaking. you were doing amazing, and on the one year anniversary of your surgery, you actually had a follow up appointment with house's team. it was rare that they followed up with patients, but it was also rare for house to have taken such an interest in the case.

"house, where did you get a piano?" doctor cameron asked as she watched her boss suddenly wheeling a piano into the office.

"don't ask," house replied, pushing it into the middle of the room and getting it set up. he then turned to you. "come here."

"what for?" you asked, very confused as to what he was doing.

"for a sandwich," he rolled his eyes. "obviously i want to make sure your vocal cords are healing properly," he added. so, despite your apprehension about his methods, you approached the piano and sat down on the little bench. house sat down beside you. "you think you can still sing?" he asked.

"i don't know...i haven't really tried," you admitted.

"well, you're going to now," house said, starting to play the tune of one of your songs on thr piano. he'd really gone as far as to look into your music and pick one of your songs.

despite being nervous, you started to sing the words, and you quickly realized that it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. sure, it didn't sound near as perfect as it used to, but considering you'd gone through bilateral vocal cord paralysis and survived, it sounded pretty damn good. you couldn't help but notice that house was really getting into it, and you could have sworn you saw a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you two had become rather...close during your time in his care a year ago. you two bonded over your shared love for music, and during that time you really got to see a different side of the man he presented himself to be. in fact, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to say that you two even developed feelings for each other, but unfortunately nothing ever came of it. when you were discharged from the hospital, you were also discharged out of his life, and over the last year, house couldn't stop thinking about you. that was why he scheduled this "follow up" appointment with you. he never saw his patients after they were out of his care, but he realized that if he wanted a chance, he was going to have to take it now.

when the song ended, he glanced at you before the rest of his team, now shooing them out of the office to make themselves useful either within the clinic or with their current medical mystery. it was really just a ploy to get a moment alone with you, and once you two were alone, he turned his attention back to you. god, you could get lost staring into those bright blue eyes of his, and he seemed to pick up on that.

"what?" he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"oh...nothing," you replied, feeling a little flustered. his eyes flickered down to your lips, and he drew in a deep breath.

"you know, i don't ever follow up with my patients," he told you.

"you don't?" you asked, and he shook his head. "then why me?"

"because i haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you walked out of this hospital," he admitted.

"oh come on...i couldn't have been that special," you replied, raising an eyebrow.

"i've never...i've never connected with a patient like this. i've never felt like this before," house said. you were quiet for a minute, trying to process what he was saying.

"would it be wrong for me to say that i feel the same about you?" you ask finally, and there was that little smile of his trying not to show itself again. he didn't speak, but instead leaned his head in and pressed his lips against yours. you could have melted against his lips, and you were surprised at how well they fit together. after a few moments, though, you pulled away to breathe.

"i feel like we're breaking so many rules right now," you laugh, and house finally cracked a real smile.

"it's what i do best," he said, pulling you in for another kiss.

[aipurjopa]

So sorry to rant in your inbox but another part you brought up is spokes narration as this being a silly challenge. But if we’re dipping into the serious narrative and realistic story elements. Spoke is living in someone’s house without them knowing and driving the owners against each other and into insanity. That’s HORRIFYING. And because of the chipper music and the day counter and spokes silly attitude it’s less horrifying, it’s just a silly Minecraft video you don’t have to think too much about it!

But in the terms that the series goes into (with war, grief, all that) it’s something horrible, the fear that someone is watching you. Footsteps in the back of your mind, a shadow that’s moving just too much like a person. A subtle paranoia that you are being watched.

But to spoke it’s just a fun challenge! A game! That’s it, and now he has something to steal and it’s all so fun and silly (and think of how big of a shift this is from spokes season 1 episode, even there it was serious) it truly gives the effect he’s loosing it. And he’s torturing ash and squiddo too, effectively, he admits it himself in the description. That’s weird.

How I feel trying to figure out this episode cause it feels like a atomic bomb dropped in a sitcom haha slice of life episode:

no, yeah, EXACTLY!!!

i've been yapping about how this feels like the most... lifesteal!spoke thing we've seen out of uu!spoke since the whole parrot torture maze thing... it's so interesting to me. because the whole like... living inside someone's base and fucking with them and the whole paranoia is something that feels so lifesteal coded to me... (coughs) and like... the premise is very similar to that mapicc ls video where he lived in spoke's base for a while.

spoke treating it as a fun game/challenge is so reminiscent to how he operated in lifesteal almost? like in his 4hr wormhole video he ends it off by saying he enjoys the puzzle and trying to do something impossible and the challenge behind pulling that stuff off.

this video is like... when i watched those fucking spoke wormhole videos for the first time and thought to myself "haha, what a funny light hearted video haha poopies is a funny name for your endermite haha what a funny bit it is to place bedrock for every subscriber you get... hey how the fuck do you have op btw?"

btw i LOVE reading people's rambles never apologize <3

[hotpinkboots]

IDEA IDEA

so jareth and lost child reader who goes into the labyrinth on accident and gets stuck there, so jareth sorta becomes like a semi-distant caretaker to the child, gender neutral PLEASE

Also have a lovely day 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

~~~~~

~Father figure!𝕵𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝓚𝖎𝖓𝖌 x Child!Reader Headcanons~

Thank you, darling! I hope YOU have a wonderful day, too!

Summary: As a child lost in the Labyrinth, it can be both a fun, exhilarating experience, and a terrifying, confusing experience. Luckily, you're being looked after by the Goblin King himself. Warning(s): None

~~~~~

~At first, Jareth was sarcastically thinking:

"How grand. A child, of all things. I bet I'll be hearing it screaming all the way from my castle."

~He then found himself viewing your journey through his crystal balls, saving you at the last minute if you were in danger, and finding it amusing when you were so proud of yourself for solving a puzzle.

~It did not take very long for the Goblin King to realize that he had grown fond of you.

~Jareth occasionally shows up to taunt you and give you more challenges. He won't go easy on you just because you're a child. But, if you perhaps start feeling overwhelmed and you shut your eyes in fear, suddenly the thing that had been threatening you disappears into thin air. He pushes you around and tests you to find out what you can and can't handle.

~For awhile, it's as though you're simply a piece of entertainment for him. He keeps poking at you and teasing you.

~This is because he thinks you're cute. You're cute when you get upset, you're cute when you're trying to outsmart him, you're cute when you're intimidated by the big scary Goblin King. So, he keeps pushing you around to get a reaction. For awhile, he acts more like a bratty older brother, rather than a father figure.

~Jareth will grow softer towards you. He eventually takes pity when he sees you growing genuinely frustrated and fidgeting because your feet hurt from walking. First, he decides to materialize out of nowhere to spook you. Then, he helps you out. He won't give you answers, nor will he simply let you through whatever challenge he has set up for you, but he'll give you hints, and walk you through it until you figure it out.

~Imagine a patient teacher helping you figure out a math problem.

~You may notice that he has more of a soft and proud look to his expression when you solve the challenge.

~From this point on you're his kid now YAY

~~~~~

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Join my Discord Server! There you can talk about my fanfiction, roleplay, chat, watch movies and listen to music with other fandom nerds!:

~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

[the-littlest-lily]

30 Days of G/t Self Care

I'm not fully sure where this idea came from, but here we go! I do enjoy a fun little daily challenge, and like most things my mind went to “but how can I make it G/t?” And here we are! Just in time for the new year, a 30 day self care challenge but… sizey. I wanted to make an actual calendar thing, just in time for the new year (though it can be started at any time, it's not specific to January). Check the days off, spread them out over a longer time, pick out just the ones that speak to you, whatever you want to do 😊 Here's the guide to go with it.

Day 1. Set aside a few minutes to take some deep breaths and focus on the present moment. To help ground yourself, perhaps wrap yourself in a blanket and imagine you are in a large, lovingly grasping hand, or hold a small item and imagine it's a tiny friend.

Day 2. Revisit some nostalgic G/t media. What first got you into this? Let yourself reminisce and remember why you love this in the first place.

Day 3. Make G/t art. It can be anything! Drawing, writing, crochet, pottery, you name it. No need to hold yourself to a certain standard or show anyone else, just take some time to be creative. Even if you don't deem yourself an artist, give it a shot and see if you enjoy it!

Day 4. Relax with a word search puzzle. I made a G/t themed one for you right here!

Day 5. Try out this journal prompt. If you could be tiny/big at will, what types of things would you do to relax? How might you extrapolate from this and apply it to your real life?

Day 6. Stretch your body today. What imaginary setting could you give yourself to make it G/t? Are you surrounded by gigantic furniture in your mind’s eye? Perhaps the yoga video on your phone helps you pretend you have a tiny instructor?

Day 7. Listen to some G/t music. This could be anything, from sizey music videos to songs with sizey lyrics to the Arietty soundtrack.

Day 8. Practice gratitude by listing out all the little things you're thankful for. (See what I did there?) Add some big things to the list for good measure.

Day 9. Practice stepping out of your comfort zone a little bit by talking about G/t, out loud if you’re able. Whether it's discussing with a friend (you brave soul), recording yourself on your phone (you can immediately delete it), or just mumbling to yourself in the shower. Maybe you’ll realize you want to make a G/t podcast and we all win!

Day 10. Here's a little creative prompt. Arrange everyday items to make a G/t scene (use toys, miniatures, or even fashion a tiny person out of paperclips or paper). Take a picture, share it if you like!

Day 11. Create a cozier space today to enjoy your G/t content. Grab some blankets, make yourself a snack or some tea, light some candles, whatever sounds nice to you. Sometimes it's making a mundane moment special!

Day 12. Make yourself something healthy to eat. While you prepare it, imagine how different the task might be to carry out if you were very big or very small. Maybe even have some fun making your snack in miniature too.

Day 13. Try out some affirmations today and see if you can make them both sizey and relevant to your life. Ideas of mantras could be “I am allowed to take up space,” “I choose to appreciate the little things today,” “I will achieve great things through small steps.”

Day 14. Go out into nature for some fresh air. Lean in close and pay attention to the small details, perhaps imagining a shrunken version of yourself or a small friend exploring.

Day 15. Challenge yourself to learn a new skill today to bring your Gt ideas to life. Maybe it's learning how to code, or making your own VR avatar, or learning a new art tool or technique. It's finally time to watch that tutorial you've been saving! 

Day 16. Pull out your dream journal, or start up a new one! Maybe we’ll figure out the whole lucid dreaming thing and come close to experiencing Gt, wouldn't that be the dream~ If this doesn't resonate with you, maybe start a journal to jot down your Gt daydreams instead!

Day 17. Relax with a crossword puzzle. I made a G/t themed one for you right here!

Day 18. Try to cross a few to dos off your to do list someday. Make it more fun by adding in some joke tasks in there, like “leave out a snack for the fairies” or “prep for borrowing trip tonight” or “meet with giant friend for coffee.” Maybe even schedule some real life Gt tasks - such as “work on chapter 2 of (Gt story you're writing)” or “plan a VRC hangout”.

Day 19. It's time to dress the part! Is there any way you can dress up or accessorize yourself in a sizey way? Maybe you have an oversized hoodie, or a necklace of a tiny Eiffel tower, or an old shirt with Tinkerbell on it. Did you know you can actually buy Arietty’s giant hair clip thing? Or if this better scratches your creative itch, maybe your objective is to make tiny accessories for a toy or figurine.

Day 20. Take some time to rest. Just allow yourself to lay down in a quiet, cozy setting for at least a few minutes and have some dedicated G/t daydreaming. 

Day 21. Try out a new exercise routine and use your G/t imaginings to make it more fun. Watching a new workout video? You’re a giant visiting the gym and that's your human instructor on the screen. Spontaneous dance session in your room? You're a fairy frolicking in a field of enormous wildflowers. Going for a swim? You're actually crossing a vast ocean, or maybe a small glass of water.

Day 22. Check out a new G/t story. Not a big reader normally? Just give it a shot!

Day 23. Give yourself a pamper night, whatever that means for you - face masks, cucumber water, a warm drink, candles, the works. Pamper night (face masks and stuff)

Day 24. Make or buy something for your G/t interests (miniatures or toys, “max”iature like a giant flower pillow, fairy-themed stationary, make a giant paper mache strawberry, etc)

Day 25. Relax with a coloring page. You can use any of your favorite artist’s lineart (just make sure to get permission and/or proper attribution if you want to post it). Here's an example option from me.

Day 26. Make a list of all the things you love about G/t. It's always nice to remember the various ways this interest might benefit our lives.

Day 27. Motivate yourself to try out a new hobby by making it G/t. Take that pottery class you've been meaning to take and make a giant acorn-shaped mug. Get into cosplay so you can dress up as a borrower. Dabble with watercolors and you may end up becoming a G/t artist. Study a new language and enjoy new sizey media you couldn't understand before. Whatever speaks to you! 

Day 28. Do a favor for your future self and make a self care kit for when you're having a hard time. This could include a journal or affirmation cards, or perhaps some grounding items like fidget toys, stress balls and mints. Add a little something G/t in there too. Perhaps some kind of miniature with an interesting texture, or a fidget toy in the shape of a person, or a stuffed animal of a giant ladybug to hug. 

Day 29. An act of kindness can do wonders for our mental health. Send someone in the G/t community a kind comment today, whether it's a long-time friend, someone you just met in a Discord group, or a comment to your favorite G/t artist. 

Day 30. Reflect on all the activities you’ve tried during this self care challenge and journal about it. What have you learned about yourself? What might you incorporate more into your self care routines going forward? Pat yourself on the back for investing some time and attention into yourself - you deserve it!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/21/2025

hey it's fucking snowing here in houston texas! what the fuck!

listening: toes by the glass animals

reading: the steerswoman series by rosemary kirstein, and the gay and lesbian erotica book of the week, candidate by tracey richardson

watching: various david attenborough documentaries

playing: brief genshin impact report

making: banana bread

listening

glass animals' toes: my best friend's husband and i were chatting about music my best friend introduced us to, and my god there's been so much! i remember back in 2018 i did not expect to like them bc we had wildly diverging indie rock tastes at the time, but they really do scratch something in my brain. very good writing music, bc each album has such a tightly curated vibe and the words are recognizable english but so poetic as to be mostly nonsense. this song is loosely about The Island of Dr Moreau. my best friend has described this song as "like listening to crayons melt"

I'm a man, I'm a twisted fool My hands are twisted too Five fingers, two black hooves I'm a man, don't spin me a lie Got toes, and I can smile I'm crooked but upright

a song for very few blorbos but when it hits for a blorbo it Hits yanno

-

reading

im having a brain time that is favorable to reading many books in one week. we're going to start with some i loved and then go to the gay and lesbian erotica, which i did not love and did not finish.

talking about which post led me to this series would give you an enormous spoiler for the book. we're going to yoink the Setting from wikipedia:

A Steerswoman is a traveling scholar, required to answer any question asked of them, as long as the asker answers truthfully in return. Anyone refusing to answer a Steerswoman's question is placed under a ban, and no Steerswoman will answer their questions in future. Only wizards do not respect the Steerswomen, maintaining intense secrecy around their magic. Kirstein's work is often characterized as science fantasy. Jo Walton describes the Steerswoman series as "not only science fiction, but more science fictional than anything else."[1] Cory Doctorow says of The Steerswoman, "even the book's genre is a riddle that you'll have enormous great fun solving."[2] The Steerswoman series addresses themes of technological development, inter-species interaction, and distribution of knowledge.[4]

i ADORED these. i did basically nothing for two days except apply to jobs and read these books. these are physics brain books. these are Science Fiction with the capitals on books. the first chapter has someone derive a bit of orbital mechanics from first principles by making logical inferences from a chart she drew in the dirt about distribution of certain jewels. despite that, it's never boring! sometimes the steerswoman Rowan will puzzle over something for several chapters before something finally clicks for both you and her. the books are one big nested riddle, and you have all the pieces from the beginning! it just looks so strange from Rowan's eyes that you don't figure it out until she does! and even when you figure out one bit you just have more questions!!! and despite knowing a huge spoiler going in, part of it really blindsided me! it was a very clever bit of writing! good job rosemary!!!

and now for the gay and lesbian erotica book, which again has a 3.8 on goodreads and again i have no idea why. published in 2008 by Bella Press in a very indifferent perfect-bound ~250p softcover with the most creasable cover imaginable, our author Tracey Richardson is a Canadian writing about an American presidential candidate. from what i read, the political speeches were the best part of the book. this was genuinely groundbreaking and revolutionary in 2008 for a Democratic presidential candidate to openly support the LGBTQ+ community! i think Tracey put a more progressive veneer on some of JFK's speeches but that's okay they still hit! that man did have some talented staff members and a great stage presence!

i tortured my best friend by reading snippets of this aloud and removing her toddler daughter from various mischief as she cooked, and we got really stuck on the presidential candidate Jane's age. she is forty three. she is a medical doctor. she lost her husband ten years ago when she had her own private medical practice at THIRTY THREE. she left for a year to do Doctors Without Borders, started a nonprofit in America about healthcare access, and is now a second term senator. this had my bestie and i doing back of the envelope math and we can only conclude she never slept or went on vacation.

i have many beefs with this book, both petty and with regards to construction. my best friend got extremely peeved at the description of someone's accent as "a well heeled eastern seaboard accent". WHAT the fuck does that mean. WHERE on the eastern seaboard??? the standard American Newscaster Accent is faintly midwestern. did they have a sort of bland tidewater politician faint drawl? who knows! this canadian author cannot tell us :(

Tracey is a big fan of dropping details very late. eg we only find out on page 8 after a lot of dialogue that love interest/Secret Service agent Alex has a southern accent. Five pages into a party scene we find out she’s wearing a hawaiian shirt. i had to go back and reread the entire party scene with that in mind. on page 42 we find out Alex is an Olympic gold medal hockey player in the first year women were allowed to play Olympic hockey. earlier in the book we see her playing hockey for funsies with her rec league and we also go over her dossier in detail with Jane. either place would have been a great place to bring this up!!!

this book is also very reverent of the office of usa politicians in a way i find strange for a canadian. and for alex, a somewhat jaded civil servant. alex!!! she’s just a rich nepo baby and has good stage presence!!!! stop falling for it!!!

as a bisexual, novels about straight widows turning lesbian really bother me sometimes. this was one of the ones that really bothered me. it's kind of insane how little bisexual fiction there is compared to the strongly represented pan and poly communities. this was 2008 though so pansexuality wasn't really as mainstream, i don't remember hearing much about it until i went to college in western massachusetts in 2013.

i had to stop reading this book bc it hit me with the following:

these are both cis women. does she have an infection??????? is she okay???? the book is not going to get better from here. books rarely start out bad and then improve. i have only a limited amount of time here on god's green earth and i want to read the thirteenth volume of witch hat atelier instead. gentle reader, i hope you understand.

-

watching

again if i could log individual children's tv show episodes i would be winning letterboxd. i half-watched a lot of david attenborough docs in the background and fell asleep on a couch to his soothing voice. there are some fucked up little guys on this planet.

-

playing

good fucking riddance, even though this is basically a slap on the wrist. the multiple-step in-game currency exchanges in order to get the main in-game currency for pulling for characters is one of the more underhanded gacha systems. gambling is an ancient human activity, it is not instantly harmful or instantly addictive, and there will never be a good way to legislate it out of existence, but i do think some more predatory practices (like this one!) should be legislated.

nothing to report about actually playing genshin this week. a big yearly event approacheth, however. excited to bring you news of the new four-star character, a basket weaver

-

making

banana bread embarrassment. i hate my kitchen so fucking much. my fridge and oven both need to be replaced but will my landlord do that???? no. this oven is from 2007 and does not hold a consistent temp, which is fine if im roasting chicken thighs and it randomly spikes the temp and doesn't heat in one quadrant, but it makes it Very Difficult to bake. i think this was a combo of an inconsistent inner temp and forming a slightly burnt crust that did not want to pull out of the perhaps undergreased pans. fuck an aldi nonstick spray i guess. i SLATHERED that thing and it still had to be persuaded out of the pan.

i consistently forget that martha stewart consistently produces baked goods that are just a touch oilier than i like. you could lose a good two tablespoons of butter in this and not notice it much, i think. a very wet recipe. added in one orange's worth of zest bc i like it.

[acedormouse]

I don't know if this is anything but something I find very interesting is Ford and his love of DD&MD.

Consider this all a really really rough draft/ planning phases of a fic I want to flesh out. I was kind of high writing this last night so bare with me.

Ford says it's his favorite game and that clearly stretches back a long way since Stan knows what it is when Dipper asks for him to play with him. Ford has liked it since he was a kid, and that's probably the only reason Stan knows.

Stan probably never showed much interest in playing it but, as we know, you need at least 2 players to actually play the game.

Ford has every manual, dice, extra graph paper (he'd always sneak some from school), and a puzzle he's dying for someone to try.

Stan never really understood any of the rules. He tried the first time Ford asked, but he kept getting the rules mixed up, the math was hard, and he hated having to ask Ford to reexplain things over and over. It made him feel dumber than school did sometimes.

So, he doesn't play again.

All Ford can do is reread the rules and monster stats until he has each entry memorized.

Playing by himself is never fun, but he still spends part of his allowance on dungeon idea playbooks from the comic book store.

When he goes off to college, he doesn't expect much in terms of his social life. Ford expects it to continue on as it always has.

Nonexistant.

So not only did he find a roommate he actually liked spending time with, but Ford found someone who also kept a set of dice in their desk drawer. When he was finally certain, he asked Fidds if he played Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons and was met back with keen, shimmering eyes and a quote Ford had recited to himself in the mirror more times than he could assign a real number to.

For the first time, he could actually play someone who shared the same enthusiasm as he did. Ford was pulling graph paper out of his backpack just as fast as Fiddleford grabbed the dice from the drawer. Sessions become as much of a part of their routine as homework and smoking.

After graduation and they go their separate ways, Ford finds himself, once again, with only rulebooks and miniature figures. He doesn't know why he brings it all with him when he first moves to Gravity Falls. Leaving it behind meant it would be tossed in the trash, but was that better than collecting dust on a future shelf somewhere? He has several folders worth of old maps and character sheets that he can't bear to throw away.

But as he thought, as the first five years of his research go by, the books and folders get a healthy layer of dust. As the roadblock of his research grows higher and higher, he goes through old things to try to refresh his thinking. Coming across his old notes brings Fiddleford to the front of his thoughts, and he realizes how much he misses him. They spoke on the phone occasionally but not in person since Fidd's wedding.

That first night Fiddleford is in the house, the sounds of banjo music and dice rolling under the couch along with the laughter (due to the rollers being more than slightly intoxicated). Fidds is back in Ford's routine again. So when multiple sessions in a row get canceled, Fiddleford gets suspicious, but eventually, he stops asking about it.

Ford doesn't burst into the kitchen with the box of figures that the two of them had made and painted together.

Fiddleford doesn't catch Ford planning out a dungeon on the chalkboard in the lab anymore.

He had stopped talking about all the new rules released in the Experienced Expert Set, the expanded character levels, and all the vast wilderness just waiting to be explored.

It all gets buried in the never-ending clutter. Dungeon puzzles get mixed in with rough skamatics and paranoid ramblings.

Stan doesn't know what to do with it when he comes across it when he finally gets to deep cleaning the parlour. He just thought of the fire hazard of having all these documents so close to the fireplace he desperately wants to light. He didn't know how to feel about finding it. He should be glad his brother managed to make a single friend but Stan would also be lying if he said that it ticked him off. He's conflicted and he hates it because he still can't figure out what to do with Ford's shit. Science crap he can put out on display but his brother's personal stuff?

Stan says it's just for the meantime, but it all ends up in boxes. He shoves a bookshelf over Ford's most lived-in room and hopes he forgets it because he can't throw it away.

Ford comes across it all when he finally has the time to unpack after the dust has settled. The paper is discolored, but the pencil looks just as fresh as the day he wrote the notes down.

Ford wonders if Fiddleford could remember how to play and realizes, with delicate delight, that there are new rules and expansions he absolutely had to share with him.

[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell, on the Death of Happiness:

- Perhaps it was the world’s press taking them too seriously and asking silly questions about the deeper meaning of their songs and about where the words came from that changed them from being simple songwriters. Songwriting became a “creative art” and was reinvented as being difficult.

- For John and Paul, songs were suddenly something that were “crafted” and then taken off to Abbey Road like a half-finished jigsaw puzzle for George Martin to work his alchemy on. It all became serious and expensive.

- Things changed. The passion went. […] I came to see on a regular basis how the four of them would be slumped in a corner at Abbey Road, with cups of coffee and bits of paper and cigarettes and joints, not doing a thing. George Martin and the new engineer, Geoff Emerick (who had replaced Norman Smith), would be sitting in the control room, or the canteen, bored out of their minds.

- I will always remember the twelve empty boxes [Magic Alex] made for George. They contained nothing and didn’t actually do anything, but George told John that they contained some kind of light ray that could recognize bad vibes. “Really? I’ll have some of those,” said John. “Yeah, me too. In fact, I’ll have two dozen. Put ’em on my bill,” said Ringo who was the most cynical of all the Beatles. Alex produced dozens and in all seriousness, they were lined up in key points around the Beatles’ homes, where, as far as I could tell, they continued to do nothing at all.

- The Beatles were under a lot of pressure at that time to prove themselves in the aftermath of Brian’s death. Consequently, the people who worked for them, or for Apple, were under a lot of pressure not to take the piss out of even the smallest of the Beatles’ bright ideas, including their involvement with the Maharishi, Alexis Mardas, or the Fool. They’re looking at you saying: “Go on. Say it. Say what you’re thinking! I can take it.” And you’re going, “No fucking way. One: you can’t take it. Secondly: I like it here!” To disagree would prove you were not tuned in and turned on.

- Denis left for the ashram, where he discovered that the Beatles were too high up in the clouds, literally, to care about films. George so desperately wanted to believe in this new religion that he called Denis into his hut and made him watch while he sat down cross-legged and levitated. When I asked Denis if he actually saw any space between George’s bottom and the concrete floor, he said evasively, “I’m not sure. George was wearing a robe, and it was very dark in his hut.” Denis was always very diplomatic.

- It seemed to me—and from what they said—that they were very earnest about meditation and Indian music, but found the Maharishi a faintly repulsive figure. They argued about it, but in the end they decided to give him the benefit of the doubt just in case he was some kind of magician

- [on hearing Jumping Jack Flash for the first time on the radio, Paul sends Tony to immediately request the station play it again.] There was a very funny look on Paul’s face as I went off to find the phone. As if, not only was the whole world on his shoulders, but now the Stones were about to hit their stride.

- As the sixties gave way to the seventies, the fun left. It was like a carousel on a merry-go-round slowly grinding to a halt, with the music dying and the lights going dim.

- Klein couldn’t have known that John was sensitive about being slightly dyslexic, but he had guessed correctly that John resented being seen as the junior partner.

- Not only was it hard work drumming up sufficient Krishnas to placate George when he wanted them around, but we were all bored to death at having to go along with the bunch of dropouts who marched up and down, chanting, clanging bells and begging for money.

- Previously, the Beatles had tried to get along; now there were factions. It was like walking on a knife-edge of conspiracies and backbiting. I watched the madness and the slow disintegration of Apple as barriers went up and years of lawsuits and wrangling began. […] People who worked for the Beatles and Apple were supposed to be totally faithful, but it was impossible to be loyal to everybody.

[malkon-dova]

Shit your pants simulator | Echoes of The Eye/Outer Wilds DLC

outer wilds DLC 1st playthrough liveblog | no spoilers, hints or tips please if commenting! |

PART ONE: Crossroads

(Content features 4/11's session; Writing this pre-game on 4/18)

I did quite a bit of progress!!! After getting reacquainted with The Stranger after a week of not playing, I decided to finally explore more of The Reservoir. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find whatever is making my log scream at me saying that I haven't discovered everything yet. Rip.

But!!! There's always more to find when you're stuck! And wouldn't you know, there's fun little house with a broken bridge I've yet to go to! And with a mysterious passage too!!! :]

And man, I didn't realize how much I've missed in The Stranger till now!! A whole town/section right there that I had missed!! And all because I didn't stay flush-right to the stream :D wow!

The Hidden Gorge is fantastic btw! It's such a cool area, so much to explore!!! And there's those artifacts too!! :) Which, at the time- I had no idea how to use. There's also another dead-people tower, which. I hate. with a passion.

Either way, after gallivanting around the place and navigating the ghost matter maze I finally enter the house and-

jesus christ i nearly shat my pants here. Not the god ray on the eye dude ;o; ohhh my godd. the music too?? aaaccchhhgkkkk. fantastic. makes me cry

And there's one of those locks on the top floor too! I'm sure the puzzle solution is connected to wherever the chain behind the broken wall (where the eye sits) has something to do with it. yet to figure that out though!

Either way, I found this reel about a busted hull!!! and wow!! im glad i pursued that!!! so much info!!! And actual information about the artifacts too!!!

Huh! In order to activate the flame in the artifact, they close their eyes. Well. I suppose the only way to do that for our character is to sleep. Good thing there's fireplaces in the dead-people towers!

oh no.

g. guys. guys. (shaking you). why are the dead people gone. why are the dead people gone. they have disappeared. why are they gone. why is it so dark. why do i move so slow. oh. god.

dude. i wish, i really genuinely wish i had a clip of when i discovered the sleep mechanic worked. it was so funny. but i genuinely was going to start hyperventilating LMAO- i was so scared out of my mind and was stuck on the pause screen for a hot while.

but oh my GOD DUDEEE!!!!!

DUDE! THIS AREA!!!!!!! THEIR PLANET!!!! THEIR MEMORIES OF HOME!!!! THIS IS SO COOL!!!!!! FULLY IMMERSED IN THE STRANGERS HOME AND CULTURE!!!!!!!!!! AND THE GIMMICKS/PUZZLES LOOK SO COOL!!!!!!!!

I AM ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED THOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so! unfortunately, the session ended short and i needed the night to recover hsdgsd

Additional notes: 1) The memories from exploring the spooky area has a cool filter over the memories! The same one when looking into the memories of the experiments.

2) I know the vault is carrying a person. I know it in my heart. I played hollow knight. i know three dreamers and the black egg when i see it. Also I was spoiled on there being a person called "The prisoner" and that just fed into my theory. How do we unlock the towers?. probably with the horror sections. how we communicate? i dont know,, but ultimately i am excited to reach that point and the journey there.

But there's a problem: I am very. very bad with horror. I have nightmares about this sort of stuff. And I saw the gimmick. I hadn't played enough on 4/11 to experience it, but I know I'm gonna have to dodge and weave those gangly motherfuckers (The Strangers) and not get caught by them as I solve the puzzles. I hate everything.

But of course, if there's a will, there's a way.

[Stay tuned for the post-game liveblog today!!! It will be attached to this post in a reblog!!]

[kedreeva]

Sark took me to the Otherworld art installation in Columbus, OH today, and I gotta say, it was awesome actually!

You can touch absolutely everything, take pictures (no flash) of anything you want. There were a few dozen rooms with various themes, all of them with interactive mechanics, and half of them had puzzles as well. This is what I think people expected that Willy Wonka disaster of an event would be, or something similar anyway, but Otherworld actually delivered really well!!

You get your wristband at the door and then you can take one of several entrances, but all the rooms are interconnected so it doesn't matter which. If no one's told you, you don't necessarily realize there's going to be puzzles, but I realized something was up by the end of our first room, and figured out what it was by the end of the second room, so it's very easy to catch on to, I think.

If you can solve the right puzzles, you can activate the end mechanic for a light and music show! Unlike an escape room, you're not locked in, you can leave at any time, but it very much had escape room vibes. I had a TON of fun figuring out what we needed to do, and watching other people try to figure out what to do.

There was one group of kids (young teens it looked like), who were trying to figure out one of the puzzles and after watching them for a bit, we offered to give them a clue since it was one we solved already. They were so excited to find out it actually WAS a puzzle with an answer. I just pointed out one of the panels to watch and let them go from there and they solved it with a lot of yelling. I hope that they continued solving the rest of the puzzles- we went in the opposite direction, because of the yelling.

In fact, all the kids we saw were having a blast. There were also plenty of adults wandering about. Because of the way tickets are sold by time slots, it should not ever get super crowded, and there were hand sanitizing stations all over, and staff lurking to clean stuff and assist as needed if someone struggled with a puzzle. They were happy to tell you whatever you wanted at the entrances and exits, so you never had to stay stuck if you didn't want to. They've also named the creatures you see.

There was also a Rick Roll in one of the rooms, which was hilarious.

Anyway, super fun experience. If you have the ability to make it out that way, consider checking it out!