#I literally can’t contain myself it’s bad

[leonsliga]

*squealing uncontrollably*

[yin-yanglulu]

Whatever happened to that Himbo showdown poll?

Like they haven’t posted anything in months it seems

I’m talking about the poll where Itto from Genshin Impact lost to Flynn from Skylanders by like a few votes

[genderqueer-karma]

guys can i talk about that fucking guy. clap if you think i should talk about that fucking guy.

(accidental ramble in the tags. oops. don’t read if you don’t want to read a crisis.)

[dduane]

Hi Diane!

I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.

I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.

Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.

The Young Wizard series.

I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.

I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.

So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!

Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊

And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.

[housecow]

i have knee problems stemming from an injury when i was younger. if i step wrong and fall in a certain way, the pain is so bad i can’t walk. but sometimes i like to fantasize: what if something even worse happens and i can’t walk for weeks? what if i happen to be in regular close contact with my feeder?

it’d be hard being told i have rest and let myself heal. there are plans coming up that have to be cancelled, the few active hobbies i have left take a hit. but…it’s so easy to accept every snack brought to me. after all, i sought out a feeder—this lifestyle is the one i’ve eaten myself towards. and he knows i have an inclination towards eating too much. that first week goes easier than it should; weight starts to pile on. but i miss going out, even running errands sounds nice. in the few moments my hands are absent of food or a shake i am regularly in contact with my friends.

the next week i’m better but… i feel slow. my feeder has started to keep people away because i need to rest and he’s right, healing is taxing on the body. i start responding less to others, too. our funnel has gotten so much more use in the last few days. the sugar and constant snacks step up and i can tell there is an agenda behind it all but *god* it feels good to be doted on. he helps me through the necessary exercises but trips across the house are rare. i notice how difficult it is to lift myself up now—how sedentary have i been?

that question doesn’t cross my mind again, there are better things to focus on. my feeder knows how to use my adhd to his advantage—food, sex, TV, and games all provide the dopamine hit needed to keep me distracted. the 3rd week is similar enough to the 2nd: ritualistic feeding becomes the norm. we don’t need a valve to control the flow on the funnel anymore, he knows i can finish everything. my belly is swollen out into my lap all of the time now, if i hold my boobs aside i can see new stretch marks creeping across my expanding hips. i expect the snacks, “babe, can you grab me something from the fridge?” is a phrase heard several times in the day. and my feeder obliges.

the 4th week we have an appointment and im told i should walk and start being active again. the doctor looks nervous though and tells me i need to watch my weight, he says something like “its alarming how quickly this happened,” but i blocked it out because—i can’t even see how much i weigh? my belly blocks the view now. oh my god.

in the car afterwards my feeder expresses doubt at the situation: “you don’t look so steady on your feet, i think you should still take it easy.” his eyes meet mine and i don’t miss the brief glance away, desire obvious at the sight of my rounded figure that’s entirely his fault. i know what he wants and i can’t deny myself that want, either. and he knows better in these situations, i trust his judgement. maybe it is best to stay in. plans can be pushed further back… the walk back to the car was a little difficult, too.

the next weeks—or does it span months?—pass in a blur. staying in is all i want to do. although i’m supposedly healthy again, i rarely get up and walk around more than needed. “needed” means a slow, clumsy walk to the fridge and back to either the couch or the bed. when my feeder is not there to feed me himself he takes time to order food to the door. bending down to pick things up is a monumental effort for me—a heavy, wide belly pressing into my fattened thighs. my swollen tits obscure my vision but serve as an excellent table when i need.

my feeder comes home one day and im asleep, taking up more than my fair share of the couch. my breaths are not easy and its obvious how much i ate beforehand: mostly-empty 2 liters, takeout containers haphazardly stacked on top of one another as they were finished, countless snack packages balled up and stuck between the couch cushions because sometimes i like to squirrel stuff away. as if there was a chance of hiding these habits my feeder built.

but the best part of it all is the empty pitcher sat against the corner of the couch, because i couldn’t reach to the coffee table to properly set it down with so much fat making every movement difficult.

the remnants a weight gain shake. our usual ingredients of cake mix, melted ice cream, strawberries, chocolate syrup, nutella, crushed oreos. it was hastily made, however, and it’s obvious by the chocolatey powder on the sides of the container that it was about the calories this time, not the taste. he can see where some escaped the pitcher and poured down my overly plump, round face and past the lovingly cultivated double chin. it dripped onto my breasts, lovely puddles of calories he wish made it inside of me even if the sight is wonderful. after that thought, an idea comes up. how deep are the rolls he’s gifted me? a cow this size needs to be used.

[nevisiity]

FAMA (408)

Fama Definition: Fama(408) means to be popular or well known, having reputation FAME!!! Personal interpretations of Fama in the houses below!! Please let me know if you relate or care to share anything else! Thx for reading <3 post 1/4 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 1ST HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 1st house is LITERALLY the house of your physical body, how you look, how you are seen by the general public, self image surface level identity. Approach to life, this can also represent early childhood. So, In my own personal interp of this sign I have concluded that girl… YOU ARE THE MAIN CHARACTER. Like BIG star energy, You might have been popular in childhood, if not then you have no problem getting attention. It may come to you naturally, even if you don’t want it…you have it.. And here they come “I never get attention 🥺” PUT. YOURSELF. OUT. THERE. Cause you got it! Don’t be afraid to flaunt it ;) This also reads to me as a natural star, actors, musicians, artists even just big personalities. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 2ND HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 2nd house relates to personal finances, money, mula, green. It also reminds me of the earth…”natural energy” mother nature. Anything green. The second house also contains personal possessions(jewels, cars, houses, etc) and emotions. Fama in the second house gives off “that girl”(IFYKYK) vibes. Natural earthy beauty. Maybe you prefer less makeup and may get complimented more because of that. But a way you can achieve fame is through hard work, getting money and showing off jewels. Showing off cars. Flaunting your wealth may not be a bad thing after all…Kind of Glamorous if you ask me. If I had this placement I would adorn myself in jewels…try a more natural style, you are beautiful just the way you are…enjoy getting that attention.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 3RD HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 3rd house is COMMUNICATION. Writing, speaking, conversing, editing, and translation. Perhaps you are excellent at communicating, Your voice is most likely really nice. Fama here to me indicates a good songwriter…maybe even a poet. You could probably write a nice script as well. Fluency in languages. You can get famous for these skills. Maybe you can even sing! Wouldn’t  surprise me :) Go on and let your voice shine then! 🌟Let your writing speak…you never know who could be listening! If you have this placement and want to write a book..write and publish poetry, music, any of that. Do everyone a favor and WRITE IT or SPEAK IT!! Your words are your superpower. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 4TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 4th house represents family, roots, old age but also physical structures, our homes (houses, real estate). Fama in the 4th house could mean your whole family is popular or well known where you live, especially if it's in a smaller place. Maybe some of you could get famous from where you come from… how you grew up, childhood, etc. This could also mean a family business that could get you fame or recognition. Reminds me of Tabitha Brown and her daughter (Tik Tok). Or you could get famous later in life. Maybe you could create a future of fame for your family. Maybe you could be a famous interior designer as well. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 5TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 5th house rules creativity,(The house of PLEASURE)  hobbies. something you enjoy doing! This can be anything from painting, music, sketching, tattooing, crocheting, any-damn-thing!!  Your hobbies are where you shine. If it puts a smile on your face and a fire in your belly DO IT!! And post it on social media! I didn’t want to mention zodiac signs yet but hun…this is the house of leo…and what is leo known for?? BEING SEEN!!The sun shines bright and you can’t miss it…The attention-getter of all the signs. Just remember to post it online! Especially if you are passionate about it. This is really the all encompassing house. Fama SHINES here. It takes a little work, but not too much..enjoy what  you are doing first though. To add, if you enjoy working with kids, want to start a business having to do with children you are sure to succeed. You could really just do your own thing and shine though.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 6TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆The 6th house represents health, wellness, daily routines and odd jobs. Now FAMA in the 6th house reads to me as a health influencer, Your daily routine will help you shine. Maybe you pretend to have a youtube channel in the mirror, showing your routine. Whether that be skincare, a day in my life, makeup tutorial. Maybe some of you are gym-bros or are really into fitness, maybe you will have a famous social media based on fitness, or healthier meals. You may even be into clean beauty, no real leather, vegan, etc. Your health is your strong suit and maybe people even ask you what they can do to be healthier. Maybe you are more on the fit side and people inquire about this too. You could be really well known personal trainer! Or chef 🧑‍🍳 Reminds me of famous chefs Gordon ramsey and Raechel Ray. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 7TH HOUSE.. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 7th house represents partnerships, beauty, fairness, legalities and even enemies!! If you have FAMA here, You could be a very famous model one day!! Probably very beautiful, whether that's unique or conventional. Besides physical beauty, I feel this also relates to art. I feel we have some amazing artists here. You could also be a great judge, family or relationship type therapist. Just anything ruling beauty and fairness. Maybe you are even a muse for some people. They want to paint you, write about you, etc…this can bring you fame. Famous fashion designer as well, beauty influencer, jewelry maker, etc! 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 8TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 8th house represents taboos, death, debt, other people's resources, sex. I read that it can also rule over legacies and wills! FAMA in the 8th house means you would get very famous doing astrology, tarot, spiritual guidance. Some of you may even be witches and could get popular doing that. Some of you may be into sex work….could get very famous that way! Whether that's stripping, only fans, DOMINATRIX. May be a good accountant or personal financer (idk what the profession would be called sorry).  Some good tarot accounts to look into if you’re interested would be (kino tarot, firefly tarot, lexi the leo, The gem goddess) You remind me of them a bit…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 9TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆The 9th house rules over philosophy, religion, higher education, I also feel good careers for this asteroid in 9th are psychics, export/import business. Just a search for the truth. You could be a very popular philosopher, this reminds me of all the greek philosophers (socrates, plato, apollodorus of athens, aristotle) Religion! You could get very famous being some type of pastor or spiritual guru. Maybe a very famous, sought after teacher. You could be a travel influencer. Love to learn about different cultures and could get very famous doing that. Very smart people here and that is your starshine. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 10TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 10th house is at the peak of your birth chart, it rules over professional career image, Public image, business relations and career achievements. I feel you could be a very famous business man/woman. You could even own a company one day!! Giving boss energy. The 10th house also rules over positions of power/authority. FAMA here could mean you even start your own business from square 1! From nothing! CEO’s with this placement. Directors, photographers, superintendent, managers. ALL things BOSS. Maybe even popular overseas due to business relations, lavish lifestyle because of riches here. Could be very popular for work ethic. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 11TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 11th house rules over The friendship of the collective, social media, friendships and groups, and HOPE. as well as idealism. FAMA in this house can indicate big social media fame. You just shine on social media. Like I said with the first house. PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE. Giving alien vibes. Reminds me of the theme of Beyonce's latest “renaissance”. Very modern, maybe even futuristic, Reminds me of fit checks I see on my TL and they have thousands of views. Maybe you yourself represent things people can’t understand, maybe with the way you present yourself. You def keep up on all the trends and memes. Maybe you could get very famous with a commentary type channel, expressing your opinions especially on pop culture. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆FAMA IN 12TH HOUSE. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ The 12th house rules over dreams, rest, BIG SPIRITUALITY, traumas, addictions, all that is below the surface.  FAMA here I think is very beneficial for people who want to speak about things that happened to them. Best spiritual gurus, psychics. You could CHANGE LIVES with this FAMA placement.Reminds me of FKA twigs song “Cellophane”. Most of you here could write a novel about things that happened to you. Or how you connect with god(s), spirit, whatever you believe in. You are magical, like a crystal ball.  Also may be gifted with clairaudience, channeling, mediumship, etc. Maybe you could see dead people/talk with them. You are stardust ☄️

Thank you for reading!! FAMA in the signs is next. Stay tuned <3

[worldlxvlys]

PLEASE write a fic of sub chris and the reader edges him until he’s crying & begging

beg

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw (don’t read if not comfortable), literally no plot just straight smut, 69, squirting, p in v, sub! chris

a/n: sub. chris. 😵‍💫

also yeah it’s just straight smut, like it just goes straight into it lmao, hope ya like <333

“fuckkkk” chris moaned as he pounded up into my pussy. “gonna cum, baby” he whispered into my ear.

“wait.” i told him, wanting to cum with him.

he gasped, “fuck, can’t hold it baby. please please let me cum” his dick started to twitch.

“no, chris. be a good boy and wait”

“b-baby, baby, i can’t, i ca- FUCKK” he yelled out, cutting himself off as he shot his load into me. i raised myself off of him immediately.

“now you don’t want to listen?” i ask as i turn myself around, back facing him.

his eyebrows furrow, “i’m sorry baby, felt so good”

i place my legs on either side of him and stick up my ass, my pussy right in front of his face.

“eat me out like the little slut you are” without a word, he shoved his face in my pussy, licking up and down.

“mmmm nice to know you can follow instructions” i said as i leaned forward, taking his dick in my mouth.

“oh my- mmmmm” he moaned into my pussy.

“ughhhhhhhh” we continued to moan into each other, adding to each other’s pleasure with each new vibration.

his hips jolt upwards, pushing himself deeper into my mouth.

he pulled his head away from me, throwing it backwards in pleasure “holy fucking- FUCK, so gooddddd”

i take my mouth off of him “did i tell you to fucking stop?”

“sorry, sorry baby. so good” he said as he focused on my clit this time, sucking and groaning into it.

i continued to bob my head on his cock quickly, feeling his veins as my tongue ran across them.

he added a finger into me while sucking on my clit. he let out a particularly long moan, sending me over the edge.

“mmmm fuckkkk, chris i’m cumming, i’m cumming” he continued to finger me through my high.

once i finished, i took him in my mouth again and hollowed my cheeks.

“jeez, ma” he moaned. his hands grabbed my ass, caressing it as i continued to suck him off.

his hips started to shake, as his cock twitched. “g-gonna cum, baby” right before he was able to finish, i took my mouth off of him.

“hmmmmmm” he whined. “why’d you stop?” i turned around to face him.

“well you just had to come so bad the first time, right? hope it was worth it, cause you won’t be doing that again tonight”

his eyes widened, “wait, what?”

“you heard me. gotta teach you some god damn self control”

“ok, but wait-“

“you know your safeword?” i asked.

his mouth hung open, nodding his head.

“good.”

i grabbed his dick, making him yell out “SHIT” as his hips jerked forward.

i began to pump him quickly, making him start to whine “hmmmmmmmmmmmm fuck fuck fuck”

his breathing became heavy and his eyes squeezed shut. “yes yes yes”

i continue to stroke his sensitive cock, building up his pleasure.

once he’s almost at the edge, i stop.

“no no no no, please please” he whines.

“aww baby, wanna cum?” i ask, looking down at him. he nods his head rapidly, seeming to gain hope.

“too fucking bad” i said. “maybe next time you’ll listen when i tell you to wait”.

i sat on his lap, right below his dick.

i took him in my hand, squeezing the tip. “f-fuck” i watched as he shuddered.

i rubbed his dick between my folds, but didn’t put it in.

“shit baby, ughhhh” he whined as i continued to rub him on me.

“yes baby, feel so fucking good against me” i moaned.

i rubbed my fingers against his tip, continuing to move him against me.

“mgh- ughhhhhhhhh” he continued to whine and groan.

i watched as his ab muscles began to tighten, and he started to twitch, indicating his oncoming orgasm.

i quickly let go of him, rubbing myself with my fingers instead.

“don’t even think about fucking touching yourself” i said. he whined in response.

“pleaseeeee please, baby”

i ignored his pleas, watching him breathe heavily and attempt to contain himself.

“shit chris” i said as i rubbed my clit, increasing my speed.

he groaned in response.

his hands started to rub my thighs, “can i touch you? please, ma?”

“go ahead, baby” with lightening speed, he thrusted his finger in me.

“FUCK, CHRIS! OH MY GOSH” i screamed, his speed taking me by surprise.

between the stimulation to my clit and his fingers practically vibrating in me, i was in a state of pure bliss. my juices shot out of me, directly onto chris’s cock.

“hmph- fuckkkkk, baby” if i didn’t know any better i would’ve thought he came untouched with the way he whimpered.

i grabbed the tip of his dick, making him cry out. i focused just on the tip, as i moved the palm of my hand around it in circular motions.

“s-shit, fuck, fuck, fuckkkk” “pl-hmmmmm- please, please, please” he continued to whine, his hips bucking up uncontrollably.

his ab muscles began to clench again, his legs shaking.

he tried to close his legs, overwhelmed by the sensitivity.

i moved my hands away, using them to hold his legs open, and leaned forward. i placed my tongue on his tip, just licking once every few seconds. i continued to tease him, not giving him what he wanted.

“fuck, baby, you can’t- ngh- pleaseeeee please please please” tears started to stream from his eyes, as i used the sensitivity of his tip to my advantage.

“baby, please” his voice cracked. his hair was drenched in sweat, his face red and tear-stained. i then hovered over him before sinking down onto his cock. “let’s try this again.”

“holy-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence as his mouth hung open.

i leaned back, holding onto his thighs as i rolled my hips into his.

“ohhhhh” he groaned.

“make me cum and i’ll think about letting you” i said to him, continuing my movements. as soon as those words left my mouth, he began to push his hips up into mine.

“yes yes yes chris, fuckkkkk” i yelled out.

“mmmmmmm ohhhhhhh” he began to whine again, already so close to finishing. “i swear to god, chris you’re not coming until i do”

with that he wrapped his hands around my waist and fucked up into me like his life depended on it.

“shit! yesss, chris! oh my GOD! fuck, just like that”

he whimpered as more tears began to stream down his eyes.

“i-we-jus-y-fe-s-ti-ughhhhhh” he wasn’t even forming comprehensible words as he continued to pound into me, squeezing his arms around me.

he then took one of my boobs in his mouth, licking and sucking feverishly.

“mmmmm so good, chris. feels so fucking good”

his legs start shaking and twitching as he holds his orgasm back. his shaking creates even more friction, sending me over the edge. “fuckkk, chris! i’m cumming”

his pace never lets up, helping me ride through my high.

“you wanna cum? fucking beg.” he didn’t waste a second.

“pleaseeee, please, please let me cum baby. please, fuck, need it so so bad. need it, please.” the tears kept flowing, as he continued to twitch.

“go ahead, baby. let go” when he released, his hips jerked up, giving a thrust so deep i swear i felt him in my stomach.

we both screamed out, it taking us both by surprise as he fucked his cum into me. the thick strings of cum continued to flow out of him, as he twitched and whimpered.

once he finished, his body continued to be ravished by aftershocks, making him jolt every few seconds.

“see? was that so hard?” i asked.

“yes.” i pinched his nipple.

“FUCK, ok sorry!”

———————

happy new year loves <333

starting the year off with sub!chris is the only correct answer

hope y’all enjoy :)

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[blue-likethebird]

Reusing the memory system from botw for the tears of the dragon storyline in totk was such a terrible decision on so many different levels that it’s honestly kind of impressive.

While the botw memory system had flaws of its own, there was one small but significant thing that worked in its favour: botw’s memories were largely separate from the main plot in the past, and have absolutely no bearing on the story being told in the present. Aside from a few specific instances (ie the calamity striking, the ceremony, Link and Zelda becoming closer) the memories are all self-contained moments that emphasize character development over driving the story. Because there’s no major narrative throughline between them, it gives players more freedom to discover in any order regardless of how much they’ve progressed through the main quest without running the risk of stumbling across a memory that ruins something else later on in the game.

(This got long so the rest of my analysis is going under the cut.)

The biggest change between the memories from botw and the dragon’s tears from totk is definitely what kind of information these cutscenes relay to you as the player. Botw’s memories are primarily snapshots of small interpersonal moments that hold very little significance to the greater narrative taking place in the past. Totk’s memories are the greater narrative. With only one major exception -that I’ll touch on in a sec-, every cutscene in the dragon’s tears shows a crucial moment of story development with no time left to explore the characters driving that story forwards. There’s no organic moment revealing, say, a quirk of Rauru’s that Mineru finds annoying, or Sonia’s sense of humour, or any of our literal Main Villain Ganondorf’s motivations for going to war with Hyrule. If there’s any moments of character focus they only happen in ways that advance the plot (meaning the only real character focus is on the characters totk wants the entire universe to orbit around, namely Rauru and Zelda), and as such it’s harder to bring myself to care about what happens to anyone.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make here, compare the memories of the champions Link regains during the divine beast quests to the conversations with the ancient sages at the end of each temple. The memories make passing mentions of the ongoing preparations for the calamity, but the real purpose of those scenes is to showcase who the champions were as people before their deaths and give us a reason to mourn them, even though we know at the start of our journey that they’re all long gone. In contrast, the conversations with the ancient sages are all about the events of the imprisoning war and their promise to Zelda that their descendants will come to Link’s aid in the future, very obviously copy pasted for each of the five times that cutscene is brought up (which is a particularly egregious moment of bad quest design but that’s a rant for another time) in such a way that none of the 5 incarnations of that cutscene reveal anything new about the ancient sages as characters, to the point where none of them even show their faces. I care about Daruk because the game shows me that he cares deeply about the wellbeing of his fellow champions and brings out the best in others. So why should I care about the nameless, faceless sage of water? What’s there to move me about their struggles if my only interactions with the sages are a series of exposition dumps? If the game can’t give me a reason to sincerely care about its main characters, the whole rest of the story is meaningless.

(As an aside, I get the feeling someone on the dev team caught on to the issue I’m describing here, because the tea party memory sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of the dragon tear cutscenes. It’s such a jarring change of pace to have the otherwise plot-heavy dragon’s tears come screeching to a halt for a scene where Sonia sits down with Zelda to have a cute little tea party and talk about absolutely nothing of significance that the whole thing almost seems like it was hastily tacked on to the story later. Given that the next (chronological) memory sees Sonia fall victim to an unceremonious death by chiropractor, it feels like someone realized that Sonia really doesn’t do or say much in the scenes before she dies and threw together the tea party scene so players would have at least one moment to look back on fondly when she’s fridged. But I digress)

The story told in the dragon’s tears is a highly linear one. But the open-ended nature of botw’s memory system remains, meaning that these tears can be found and viewed in any order. At first this doesn’t seem so bad, since the first two tears you’re likely to find if you follow the game’s intended path are also the chronological first and second of the memories you can discover through these geoglyph tears. But after those first two, the game kinda gives up on guiding you towards these tears in a way that flows well with the story they wrote: the closest tear geographically to the two the game initially guides you towards correlates to one of the penultimate scenes of that entire storyline, while the next scene chronologically is found almost halfway across the map. As such, it’s all but guaranteed that you’ll spoil yourself in some way without using either a guide or the (somewhat unintuitive and never fully explained by the game) little map in the forgotten temple. Finding memories in order didn’t matter so much in botw because the scenes you could find still worked well as standalone scenes before you discovered every memory and pieced together the full picture, and the game is never trying to surprise me about the characters’ fates at the end of this storyline: hell the first memory you’re guided to shows the calamity striking. But in contrast, viewing a dragon’s tear at the wrong time can completely ruin the story they’re trying to tell in those cutscenes. During my playthrough, for example, the first tear I found after the game stopped guiding me to them showed Ganondorf removing Sonia’s stone from her dead body. At this point I had known Sonia existed for all of like an hour, so every subsequent appearance she made was ruined for me by the fact that I already knew she was nothing but cannon fodder to be killed off for the sake of another character’s pain (Rauru and Zelda a-fucking-gain). I expected to be pissed that it was so easy to spoil myself, or maybe sad in passing that a character with her potential was so underutilized, but instead I just felt… tired. I wasn’t even halfway to the first settlement and already I was completely numb to the story the game was trying to tell.

But the worst was yet to come. And oh boy was it ever a low point for storytelling in the Zelda series. Remember how I said up above that the memories in botw had no connection to the story in the present? Let’s just say the same cannot be said for the dragon’s tears.

It’s May 2023. I’ve just finished the sage of wind questline. I still have hope that the story the game is trying to tell will be good. Deciding that I’ll go to Goron city next, I head towards the Thyplo skyview tower to expand my map, catch a glimpse of a nearby geoglyph from the air, and glide over to check it out. This geoglyph shows me a memory that not only recaps the entire dragon tear storyline, but also ends on a bit of foreshadowing about Zelda’s fate that’s about as subtle as a brick to the fucking face. By exploring -the thing the game claims it prioritized above all else in the design of its world and quests- I’d once again been hit with spoilers for a major story detail.

My main objective in this game is to find Zelda. It’s the only driving factor behind my journey towards all these different regions. The current big mystery I’m supposed to solve is why Zelda’s causing so much hell for the people of Hyrule. I now knew exactly where she was and what the deal with her appearances in other parts of Hyrule was, and I’d found it completely by accident by doing something the game says over and over again that it wants me to do. Unlike with Sonia’s death, this time I was a mess of emotions. I was pissed the fuck off that this open-world game had punished me twice already for trying to explore. More than that, I was disappointed that a game I had been so excited to play, from a series I had so many fond memories of, had let me down like this. With every subsequent quest where the sages and I chased a Zelda I knew was fake to our next objective, and every NPC wondering where she was that I couldn’t tell the truth to, that disappointment grew. The entire rest of the main story was ruined for me before I had progressed past 1/4th of the regional quests and a third of the dragon’s tears. There was no more sense of anticipation or mystery. I finished the rest of the game with a bitter taste in my mouth and haven’t touched it again since.

Do I think this story could have been good? Honestly, I don’t know, and by now I don’t really care either (that’s a lie. I care so so much and that’s probably why I hate totk as much as I do). But it’s all irrelevant, because like Cinderella’s stepsister cutting off her own heel so she can cram her foot into a glass slipper that’s never going to fit, totk is sabotaged by the devs’ insistence that everything fit itself into a world they custom-made for botw. This isn’t a new formula that the series is following, it’s Nintendo slapping a new coat of paint on an existing skeleton, and I’m not optimistic to see what this particular approach has in store for the Zelda series. Especially not at the price they’re charging for it.

[beenbaanbuun]

emo!mingi

im writing something big rn but for the time being, i can’t get the fact that mingi is a certified! emo off of my mind… like ever….

it’s all i think about and as an emo/metal girlie myself, i can’t help but think about mingi fucking you to his personal horny emo/metal playlist.

bc i can guarantee he has one. like the man said one of his favourite songs was dance dance by fall out boy??? like i can just imagine him taking the lyrics to that song a little too personally, stripping you bare on his mattress, putting you on your front and kissing down your naked spine. pete wentz was sooo right when he wrote that song… mingi does want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with him…

and i’m sorry, if that man ever listens to death of peace of mind by bad omens??? oh that man would be DONE. FINISHED!! because how is he supposed to hear that song without you popping into his head. memories of him folding you in half as he fucks into you, mascara tears streaming down your face as you cry out for him. chanting his name over and over again like a mantra… it’s like that song was written about you.

and that man has eaten you out one too many times to K.M.B by nova twins… he gets so pussy drunk and just goes dumb between your legs while the music degrades him and calls him out for what he really is. there really isn’t much going on between his eyes once he gets even a hint of your pussy juices. literally turns into a pretty puppy that exists solely for your pleasure, and you’re okay with that…

and i just know that this man goes fucking i n s a n e when he hears the first note of a deftones song. imagine him listening to my own summer (shove it) and just ramming into you. he’d have you pinned down as he almost completely loses himself, thrusting hard and sensual, trying so desperately to hold on to his last thread of sanity. trying so hard not to snap completely and let himself go absolutely feral on you. he wants to, so bad actually, but for the sake of you being able to walk the next day, he holds back… barely.

but like, we also know this man is a giggly baby half the time. like he’s such a princess and i refuse to believe that every single time you have sex with him, he’s completely serious. like imagine he’s trying to be but then the playlist switches songs and it’s a fucking limp bizkit song or something. like it just switches the mood entirely because how is he supposed to fuck you when fred durst is singing rollin’ directly in his ear. like you’re not telling me this man won’t collapse on top of you in a fit of giggles, rigid dick still pressed inside of you as he tries to contain his laughter in your ear. and you just slap his shoulder or something because what the fuck is LIMP BIZKIT doing in his sex playlist?!?!?!?

i’m so sorry, but emo mingi DOES THINGS TO ME!!!!! like it’s all i can think about at any given point in time and i need people to understand that this is my roman empire!!!

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

[heartss4matthewq]

NOTHING TURNS TO SOMETHING (pt.2)

contains: smut, dom!chris,choking,fem!reader, fluffy at the end

———————————————————————

“what?”

“you heard me”

our mouths smashed into eachother with no hesitation

“i want you, chris”

“all you had to do was ask” he smirked at me

my hands were tugging at his shirt signaling what i wanted

“so, so needy”

i whined in response

in one swift motion my bottoms were off and chris was on top of me

chris pressed his hard-on onto my clothed pussy earning an impatient whine from me

“fuck, ma you see what you do to me?”

a quiet moan escaped my lips

“chris- please-“

“please what?” he teased

“touch me chris, make me yours”

he pushed my panties to the side and ran his fingers through my slick folds

“you’re so pretty like this under me, y/n” he said while smirking and looking down at me.

as he pulled his boxers off, his dick sprung out of his pants and hit his stomach.

“thats not gonna fit chris” i said while laughing lightly.

“I‘ll make it fit”

i lifted up slightly so i could take my underwear off.

he started kissing my neck and pulling off my shirt.

I moaned in his ear and kissed him once again.

chris looked so good in this state.

“so pretty, baby”

He looked at me with lust-filled eyes grabbing my waist

he ran his dick through my folds slowly pushing inside my walls.

“Oh- oh fuck so tight”

i bit my lip trying to hide the moans that were trying to escape.

“i wanna hear your pretty sounds, baby”

He grabbed my boobs with both of his hands and then sucked on them

with that i let out a loud moan, hoping matt and nick weren’t hearing us.

“Yes, fuckkkk! right there”

He started to gently rub my clit with his two fingers.

“i c-can’t holy shittt”

the sounds of his grunts and me gasping for air fill the room.

“take it baby” he groans out wrapping his hand around my throat

“baby” i clenched around him at that word

he pumps himself as deep as he can go in me.

“mmh~ fuck c-chris” i breathe out.

he smirks to himself.

he thrusts himself into me faster and rougher hitting my g-spot almost every time.

my moans grow louder the closer I got, it’s like music to chris’s ears.

he knows i’m close so he starts rubbing my clit again.

i start forming incoherent sentences because the pleasure is so overwhelming.

“come on baby i know you’re close, cum with me”

with that, i let out a loud moan releasing all over chris.

chris was still riding out his high. thrusts getting faster and sloppier

“shittt” he pulls out and cums all over my stomach

he rolls over and lays beside me.

“fuck chris that was so good” i said laying on his chest.

“so i’m not bad at sex” he says chuckling

“yeah mya doesn’t know what she’s missing out on tbh”

we got cleaned up and headed to the shower

we got into some pjs and chris handed me a shirt and some boxers.

Then we got into bed again.

“Do you like wanna cuddle?“ he asked me with this cute smile on his face.

“yes of course.“

We both started to get really tired and fell

asleep.

10:45 AM

The next morning i woke up in chris bed without him.

“what the fuck” i whispered to myself

just when i was going to get up nick and matt came through the door

“oh hey, thanks for cheering my brother up last night” matt said with a wink

“oh my. u heard that?” i said a little embarrassed

“yeah we fucking did literally threw up”

“oh umm yeah anyway where’s chris”

“he went out to the store or some shit it’s way too early so i said im not driving him anywhere so he got an uber i guess”

“i’m back” chris had flowers and a poster board that said (be my girlfriend?)

“oh and here’s apology chocolates for you and matt”

———————————————————————

i hope this was good bc i genuinely can’t write smut. SORRRYYY that it took so long to post anyway should i make a series??

[friautyalltheway]

To please a woman

✶﹒Jim Hopper x Reader

⊂📔🍒⊃

Content Warnings: Hard Dom! Hop, Bratty Sub! Reader, Corruption Kink, Fingering, Degradation, Oral (fem receiving), BDSM, kinda? (Use of Handcuffs), Sir kink, Praise, Begging, Hair Pulling, No Condom (always keep it safe kids!!), this is literally just porn atp, manhandling, Overstimulation

2,7k words

18+ below the cut

How long had it bee since Jim Hopper last had a good fuck? An one-night stand? A woman in his life? Too long. It´s been definitely too long. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about sex while at work, he did so regardless. His filthy thoughts started taking advantage of him a few days ago, naughty imaginations clouding his mind, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else. Shit, how old was he? 18? Shouldn’t people his age be out and about, thriving with their wives, their families? Whatever. It could not be that hard, finding a willing woman somewhere in Hawkins.

With that thought in mind, he hurriedly closed the doors of the Police Station after his shift was finally over for the day, and made his way straight into his favourite pub. Lucky for him, you have had the exact same thought as him today, on the lookout for a man who could pleasure you the right way. But you definitely didn’t expect that man to be the Chief of Police.

Hopper opened the door that lead onto the pub, looking around as he made his way towards the counter. That was until he spotted you sitting at one of the tables, all by yourself. He took that as a chance to sit down at the same table, taking of his hat, grumpily greeting you.

Soon, you were lost in a conversation, talking about this and that. You never took him as a funny, nice guy - but that was exactly who he was. All to your surprise. But what surprised you even more, was him admitting after a few beers, that he went to the pub for the exact same reason as you. To have sex.

Jim was a very attractive man, way older than you were. But you did not have a problem with the age gap - age gaps were good. Boys your age just didn’t know what they were doing yet.

So it was not surprising to find yourself buckling up your seatbelt in Hopper´s police car a few minutes after paying.

The car ride was painfully long, the tension in the air so thick the both of you could barely breathe.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at his Cabin. He turned of the car´s engine, and looked over to you.

“I swear to god, that was the last thing i had expected to happen today. Jesus.”

He shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. You giggled softly. “Me neither.”, you admitted. Hoppers right hand found your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, nodding twice while doing so. He opened the door, and got out of his seat. You took one last, deep breath, and left the car as well. As you walked around the car, Hopper suddenly pushed you against the car´s hood, his lips greedily pressing against yours. You moaned quietly at the sudden impact, but he let go of you a few seconds into the kiss.

“Sorry. Can’t contain myself. Lets go inside and get this started, hm, sweetheart?”

As soon as you stepped inside, he pushed you against the wall, pinning your hands over you head, continuing to kiss you hungrily. His lips left yours and made their way over to your ear, softly nibbling on it. “I want to destroy you so bad, you have no idea.”, he whispered, a slight rasp to his voice. You let out a quiet whimper at this comment - him asserting his dominance over you was the most arousing thing you had ever experienced. Just thinking about your age (and size) gap made you press your thighs together in anticipation for what was about to come. “Need you to do that”

There was no way in hell you would be able to think straight, so you just gave up on forming full sentences by now.

His right hand still pinned your hands down, as his other one slowly traveled down the side of your body, coming to rest on your breast. He started groping it, playing with your nipples. At this point you were a mess in his hands, completely submitted to him. “I barely started, and you already stopped thinking straight. Pathetic.”

His teasing went right down between your legs, the wetness intensifying. “Stop- stop the teasing. Need more. Please. Need so- so much more.” A low chuckle fell from his lips at your comment. But he didn’t change his pace, he didn´t roam farther south where you needed him most. Instead, the hand that cupped your breast went upwards again, grabbing the back of your head, pulling you towards his lips again to reward you with yet another greedy, passionate kiss, which you loudly moaned into. “So, so greedy… Just have some patience, will you now?”

You nodded. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back. “I want you to answer me properly when I ask you a question!”, he angrily said through gritted teeth. What would scare most people living in Hawkins, only turned you on even more.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” “Yes, sir.” “Better.” He went from the back of your head to give your ass a hard spank and then gripping it roughly. You tried moving your hands to touch him, but couldn’t escape his tight grip. “You´ll move when I say so. Got that?” “Yes.” The grip on your wrists intensified. “Yes sir!” A small chuckle left Hoppers mouth. “I think it´s time to move this to the bedroom, hm?”

As soon as you entered the bedroom, he pushed you on the bed, his lips finding yours again. Holding back was impossible now, and you pressed your core up to his already hard crotch, your fingers tangling in his hair, at which he lowly groaned. “Fuck, look what you do to me. Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

He opened your belt, eagerly pulling down your pants and then dragging his finger along your clothed slit, which was soaked by now.

“Shit, you´re so damn wet. Can´t wait to see what your insides feel like. What you taste like.”

Your panties and bra didn’t stay on long, after he had yanked them off your body - him still fully clothed. His kissed slowly started traveling down your body, making halt where you needed him most. Your hips jerked upwards in excitement, but he didn´t give you what you wanted just yet.

“Now, what do good girls do when they want something real bad? When the officer catches up on them, and they don´t want to be punished, hm? They beg him for mercy. Oh, they beg so nice and good to please him, so he will let them go. I won’t let you go, no way in hell, but I still want you to beg for me. Beg, as if your life depends on it, can you do that for me?”

Where did that man learn how to talk this dirty from?! It was undeniably hot, so of course, you gave him what he wanted. Right now, you would probably do anything just to have him finally pleasure you the right way. So there was no holding back.

“Please. Please use me, do anything you want to me, I need you, I need you inside me, on top of me, whatever, please, please, please, sir, make me fall apart, make me your whore, i don’t care anymore. I will do anything for pleasure, please!”

You desperation made Hopper release a low groan, but still, he didn’t give you what you needed. What more did you have to do? “Go on. Come on, continue…”

Asshole.

“Mhh, please, please, just do it. I gave you so much already, please, i think I might die if you wont touch me. Shit, shit, destroy me, please, please just - ah!”

His tongue found your clit in the middle of your sentence, suckling on it, softly biting down on it. You arched your back, hips pressing up against his head. Finally he added a finger, curling it so it perfectly hit your G-Spot. Just how on earth could he be this good at all that?!

Soon, he added another finger. And then, a third one. “Mh- close…”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I need you to fulfil the promise you made earlier, can you remember? You told me I should make you my whore- good whores cum when their Sir tells them to.”

“Yes, yes sir. Understood…”

Hopper couldn’t believe that you really were this obedient. Of course, he had to be dominant in his job as well - but it was way more arousing to be dominant in bed. His erection pressed tightly against his pants, needing attention. Shit, he swore he could cum alone from fucking you with his tongue.

After what felt like hours, he finally pulled out his fingers, and removed his mouth from your aching core. He moved towards you, grabbing your hand and placing it over the tent that had formed in his pants.

“Can you feel that? This is what you do to me, girl. My little whore, hm?”

You were practically drooling at this point - which didn’t go unnoticed by Hopper. But he himself couldn’t stand this torture anymore. He finally needed to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for the next week. He finally wanted to see you completely break underneath him, wanted to fuck you dumb.

So he started to unbuckle his belt. He did not bother undressing, only pulled his pants and his underwear down a little bit to reveal his dick.

Him fully clothed, on top of your naked body, his erection pressed against your wet folds - the thought alone nearly made you cum. His teeth nibbled at your earlobe again, and with a raspy whisper he said:

“I need it just as bad as you do right now. But I need you to beg for it again. I need to know what my little, good slut needs.”

Again. He wanted you to plead again. You slowly started to get a little embarrassed, your face heating up, your cheeks turning red. You tried to turn your head away to undergo having to beg Hopper to fuck you. You did enough begging by now, anyways.

What you didn’t expect though, was Hopper suddenly getting up and leaving the room. You sat up, confused. What was he doing, in the middle of all this?

Your question quickly got answered as he came back - handcuffs in hand. “Lay down. Hands behind your back.”

You looked at him with widened eyes, not prepared for this kind of power play. Only to see what would happen, you started acting up, refusing to follow his instructions. “What if I don’t, sir?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Then Ill make you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that. I bet I could just Get up and leave!”

That was wha sent him over the edge. Leave? You? No. No one could leave once he had them in his hands. He was the chief of Police after all!

In a matter of seconds, he had your body pressed up against the mattress, your wrists in a firm grip as he adjusted the handcuffs. Moving was barely impossible in that position, face pressed into the soft pillow, muffling your whimpers.

“Arch that back.”, Hopper demanded. This time, you did not stand up against his orders. Your ass was now pressing against his dick, already dripping with precum. “And i swear to go, if you ever, ever even think about disobeying me again, I’m going to absolutely destroy you until your knees give out. Until you’re bruised black and blue, does that sound good to you, hm?”

He grabbed your hair again, and pulled your head up, turning it towards him. His other hand squished your cheeks together, making it harder for you to answer.

“M-mh yesh, shir”

God, you felt so stupid. You sounded so stupid. But that apparently was amusing to him, because a dirty grin settled on his face.

“Thats how I like my good whore. Obedient and submissive.”

Without warning, he thrust his dick into your core, making you scream in both pleasure and pain. He set a slow, but hard pace, the room being filled by the sound of skin against skin, your moans and his soft groans.

Hopper put one had on the chain that held the handcuffs together, pulling on it. His other hand made its way towards your mouth, where to of his fingers slipped between your lips.

“Suck on them, will you?”

So you did. You were so close to orgasming, and having both your pussy and your mouth stuffed, and being completely submitted and helpless did not help you at all. Wait until I allow you to cum, he said. As if it was that easy!

“Mhh, good whore. Good girl. Doing such a good job, taking my cock so well.”

His pace sped up, and you assumed he was close as well. Hopefully he would allow you to cum as soon as possible. But that was not the case. You tried telling him that you couldn’t hold it any longer, but his fingers fucking your mouth made that almost impossible. Each thrust threatened to throw you over the edge, as you tried your best to hold yourself back from reaching your height. But fuck, that did not work. With one last, loud moan, your walls clenched around his cock, eyes rolling back in your head as you experienced one of the most amazing orgasm you’ve ever had.

Hoppers thrusts stopped. He took the fingers out of your mouth, moving his hand up to your head, and yanking it back by your hair.

“Shit, what did I tell you about cumming without my permission?!”

He was furious.

He turned you on your back, eyes staring right into yours. “Dumb whore.”, he said, and squished your cheeks again. “Open up your mouth - don’t make me ask twice.”

As you did so, he spat right into it. “Swallow.” You made sure not to disobey him again, seeing what it had led to.

Hopper spread apart your legs, and started fucking you again. Your pussy felt sore from all the foreplay and the hard orgasm you had just experienced - but he did not care. He put his full body weight on you, nearly crushing you. Your legs were resting upon his shoulders, his fingers caressing your clit.

“´M gonna cum soon. And you will, too. I don’t care if you’re overstimulated or not, this is an order. And you know what happens when you disobey the chief of Police, right, sweetheart?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t even need to try hard to cum, as you were already on the verge of yet another orgasm.

“Cum, sweet whore. My sweet girl, you’ve been taking it so well. Cum around my cock, I know you can do it.”

His words of encouragement were enough to send you over the edge for the second time today. Seeing you, all vulnerable, completely fucked out and into submission also sent Hopper over the edge. He leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, hands tangling in your hair, while both of you rode out your high.

“Shit,” Hopper said as he pulled out and laid down beside you. “You did fucking amazing.” His words made you smile, but you were way too tired to respond to that. “Yeah, get some rest. You deserve it.”

You heard him change in the bathroom, coming back to lie down besides you, tucking the both of you under his blanket.

You would have never expected it, but Jim Hopper, the Chief of Police of Hawkins was very cuddly after Sex - which you found extremely adorable. He softly stroked your cheeks while you drifted away to sleep, and you loved every second of it.

He surely knows how to please a woman.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks

hi!! i'm back lol - well, the craziness at work is done and I'm slowly getting back to writing bc I haven't written in like a week and it's killing me lol (this is gonna sound dramatic but I literally don't feel like myself if I don't write for too long haha) I don't have anything new to share rn, but I figured since it's already december and since some of y'all are sharing Christmas fics, and knowing I likely won't write one this year, I'm gonna shamelessly plug my holiday fake dating fic with 4 Christmases and 6 Christmas chapters actually 😂 (Christmas was a very important time for Buck and Eddie's relationship in this lol) - there's obvi more holidays in this but anyway, here's a snippet of their first Christmas together also, it's been a year since I posted the first chapter and I'm feeling nostalgic lol, this fic is my baby and I love it so much (tho there's so many things I'd change now lol)

[read on Ao3]

___

Turns out, Buck is very much serious about the whole thing, and Christopher finds it hilarious and is eager to play along. Eddie doesn’t have valid arguments not to do it, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to. After another snide comment when talking to his parents, he made his decision. And he already felt this exciting feeling of satisfaction when he told them he’d be bringing someone for Christmas this year – miraculously, Buck and Eddie don’t work on Christmas, and they took an additional day off, so their schedules allow for a three-day trip to Texas. 

So now, it’s Christmas Eve and they’re on their way from the airport to Eddie’s childhood home, and he’s nervous, doubts just starting to seep in. What on earth possessed him to do this? He can’t lie to his family. He can’t pretend to be in love with Buck. What if he really does fall in love with him? What if everything goes to shit? He’s watched enough movies to know it’s a bad idea, but he couldn’t and still can’t bring himself to stop it.

“So.” Eddie says, his voice shaking slightly, as they sit in a cab. “We’re doing this.”

“Yep.” he can hear Buck grin next to him. “Unless you still wanna back out?” he adds quickly. They could still say Buck’s just a friend. No big deal. But Eddie does have this petty desire to stir something up, and this seems perfect. 

“No. It’ll be fine.�� he smiles at Buck, and then feels hot when Buck grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers, winking at him. Christopher laughs.

“You’d make a great couple.” he comments. He’s been unusually happy about all of this. He also asked Eddie a few days ago if Eddie loves Buck, which prompted a conversation, but he thinks Chris knows what’s going on now. Eddie doesn’t really know what to think about that.

“Thanks, buddy.” Buck responds excitedly, squeezing Eddie’s hand, and he can’t contain a smile. If not anything else, at least all three of them are going to have a lot of fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1

[jacenotjason]

How would the opposite neighborhood react to seeing their original selfs?

i wanna draw this, but im gonna jot my thoughts down real quick!!

(Here’s the AU masterpost!)

Also doodles!!

They try their best to find something they have in common. I feel like OG Eddie is way to nice to be scared or like grossed out by Opposite, he’d just feel a little bad and wanna be his friend.

They talk about Frank, they have that in common. Like:

OG: …uhm.. arts and crafts?

OP: I’m not five? What about sports?

OG: I can’t follow along with all that..

OP: eugh… mm…

OG: …

OP: ..Frank?

OG: Frank!!

OP: Frank!

Oh they would hate each other. OG would be trying to be nice and then Opposite would insult his business model, and then they fight. I lowkey wanna see these two brawl, I think opposite would kick OGs ass no offense.

OP: *looking around OGs store* Where’s your price tags? The unlabeled scam is scummy, even for me.

OG: Hm? Oh, buddy, I don’t charge money for my products!

OP: … What?

OG: Yah! I prefer accepting other meanings of payment! Things much more valuable then money, friend!

OP: … That’s dumb.

OG: 🙂 what.

Then they BRAWL!! Ok probably not OG howdy probably doesn’t resort to violence. But a lot of insults are thrown back n forth hueurheye-

I honestly think they’d love each other. OP is basically Franny, and OG is OP.Franny they’d literally just:

OG&OP, at the same time: You look like my sister!!

Plus they both love fashion, and hair, and makeup, and Sally- ohmygod theyd be the best of friends i cant even theyd be so girlboss together

OG teaches her some games, and then OP teaches her some girlboss survival skills. Before they leave, OP gives her a pink sparkly pocket knife to remember her by :3

Yknow that fancy rich ppl thing ppl do where they kiss each others cheek? They do that

OG: My dear! Won’t you let me in? I’m you, you can trust me!

OP: what in gods name makes you think I trust myself..?

OG: We are one in the same, starlight! I am you, you are me! A mirrored doppelgänger of your own image! I don’t look to harm you, starlight! Put aside your distrust.. for yourself?

OP: haha… okay, shakesqueer…

Then OP lets her in :3

I have lots of thoughts about these two hanging out. OG makes her a new outfit after judging her gross clothes, lightheartedly ofc and OP is like “haha yeah its gross” and OP gets a cute dress! OP absolutely shocks and destroys OG in video games, they dance together, and they talk about Julie huehuehuehue

WAHHH THESE TWO! I honestly feel like theyd get along, but have little bickering about their different mothering styles.

OG: a.. punk mother? Interesting..

OP: whaat? My kids are all party animals, just like me! I can’t contain that.

OG: haha that’s fair.. I guess.. but.. partying? Thats so… much..

OP: …dude unclench your beak and live a little.

Someone calls OP Ma and OG is like “Ma? Thats so sweet.. i wish my neighbors called me mom :>..”

OG: a dog wearin’ pants? That ain’t right.

OP: aah.. it’s just.. to walk around half naked, is that not discomfiting?

OG: Discomfiting?? Thats a big ol’ word for a big ol’ dog.

OP: Ahaha… I’ve got a bit of a considerable vocabulary.

OG: you got a word-a-day calendar or somethin?

I feel like they’d be friends? Maybe?? OG kinda pokes fun at OP and OP is like “I’m talking to my opposite self :) dimension plane is real :) ain’t that wild :)”

OG: …

OP: .. :3

OG: …I have questions

OP: :D

OG: why the turtleneck?

OP: its like a shirt is giving my neck a hug! :D

OG: …ok. Why the hair?

OP: fluffy! :D

OG: no why is it white?

OP: I bleached it :D

OG: why?

OP: preti :D

[kymiya]

geordi n cutie (moreso geordi) cuddling headcanons

(because i'm sick of only having angst on my feed)

so lets start off with the basics

geordi is the BIGGEST cuddler like

ever

when hes next to cutie on the couch or the bed

IMMEDIATELY wrapped up beside them

and its the cutest thing on earth

like hes got blankets pulled up and asking cutie if they want snacks

do they need water

literally whatever

hes the whole package

he is going to make sure they are both comfortable when they cuddle

checking in w/ them constantly

making sure they’re not too hot or cold

giving them kisses

like

SO many kisses

forehead

the cheek

neck

anywhere he can reach he’ll kiss

UGHH hes so sweet i hate him/j

those weren’t really basic (they were) but anyway

was kinda arguing with myself bc i couldn’t really figure out if geordi would be a big spoon or little spoon

and honestly

he dgaf 💀

he couldn’t care less

literally as long as they are within close proximity

there won’t be a single complaint

if cutie wants to be big spoon: 🫶

if cutie wants to be little spoon: 🫶

he absolutely adores being wrapped up with them

especially in winter

AND ITS SNOWING??

holy shit he just blew up

like he just exploded

cutie being an empowered mf and being able to produce fire (and

whatever else)

their body can and will be used as a heater

all i can think about is them laying down on the couch

hot cocoa (or your preferred drink in the winter) on the coffee table,

still steaming

a heavy ass blanket on top of both of them

cutie laying on their back with their arms thrown around geordi’s neck, occasionally kissing the top of his head

or one hand in his hair (also big hc of mine: geordi has curly hair), playing with it and softly pulling out small knots

as geordi is literally in heaven with his personal oven, body on top of cutie’s with his arms circled around cutie’s back

his head on on their chest, listening to their heartbeat as they watch home alone for the 46th time

EWW theyre so gross i wanna eat them

moving on from that

i also feel like geordi is super playful

he bites

affectionately

he cannot contain his love

his absolute infatuation

to just bite them

AND ITS SO RANDOM

like its not like he’d be kissing cutie n then it would turn into bites

its just out of nowhere 😭

nd if cutie isn’t reading his mind

omg i forgot about cutie actually being able to read minds bye

ill get onto that later

BUT

when cutie isn’t in geordi’s mind

they literally jump

its not like he was trying to bite a chunk out of them

but still 💀

also if cutie decides to get up during any of their cuddling sessions

he will drag them back

he’ll have a war in his mind about being clingy or too much

but he’ll still drag them back

especially when they just got comfortable??

like where tf are u going?? 🤨

i love my silly little overthinker

OH

and back to when cutie’s in his mind

its mental warfare

specifically early into the relationship

imagine the first time they’re cuddling

jesus

he’s actually panicking so bad

like they barely get situated

and he’s just

“oh my god”

“oh my god” 

“what am i doing?”

“why am i doing?”

“where do i put my hands?”

“is this an awkward angle?”

“i can’t”

“why is this so difficult??”

“they’re so warm”

“and they smell good”

“ew now you sound like creep”

“but they’re my partner?”

“don’t care, still weird”

“i’ve done this before, why can’t i just”

“..just what?”

“just, i just want to just”

something like that

but his thoughts probably go silent when cutie cover both of them in a warm blanket n snuggle up close to him

his mind literally goes blank

hes so smitten its crazy

but later down the road he’s gotten more accustomed to cuddling and doesn’t question his life after a single hug

he gives cutie small praises in his mind

especially after they’ve had a long ass day at work

he’s willing to help them relax

drinks, something to eat, words of affirmation, kisses, massage, bath

anything for cutie to be at ease

all in all hes perfect and i want him

if somebody out there is exactly like geordi hmu 🤭

i think thats it, that was such a brain dump

i need myself a geordi within the next 2 minutes or else im gonna implode/srs

i have so much in my brain its insane

probably gonna post more since im on break 🤷🏾‍♀️

[velvet-games]

I wrote a random draft for a radiostatic ficlet on the car a couple days ago; still having problems with it but might publish to ao3 if it gets better.

for context, this is part of the same universe as favorite/most of my art. vox leaves the vees and is working at the hotel now; he and alastor have repaired their friendship at this point and are hurtling toward that liminal queerplatonic "what are we" stage.

“Oh, this hotel venture truly has been an inspiration, hasn’t it, Vox?” Alastor twirled around Vox’s office, nearly smashing his screen in with the microphone several times. “Romance, betrayal, existential revelations about the ontology of the universe; it has everything!”

“You say that like you’re not part of the romance, betrayal, and existential revelations about the ontology of the universe,” Vox said, narrowly missing another hit. 

“Oh, I don’t mind being a part of the show! I play the best character after all, haha!” Alastor finally set the microphone down, much to Vox’s relief. “I’ve never felt the rivers of creative ambrosia flow through my veins quite the way they do now! Every broadcast has been a hit!” Raucous applause permeated the air, occasional whoops breaking through. He gave one more twirl and a bow that almost caused him to topple over. Vox smiled faintly. Silly, he thought.

“Glad you’re having fun, buddy; now can I get back to work?” Vox sighed, feeling a little sick. He sat heavily in his chair before turning toward the wall of screens currently dotted with shining logos and random livestreams. 

The applause cut off abruptly. “Hm? Why, friend, you look even bluer than usual,” he said. “Say, why don’t you start drawing again? That used to cheer you right up. It’ll be just like old times! Me, inspired to orchestrate the best broadcasts Hell has ever seen; you, with your mediocre pictures that made you ever so happy for some inexplicable reason!”

Vox froze. “I … can’t.”

“Sure you can; why not?” Alastor replied steadily. “You used to do it all the time.”

Vox looked up, shoulders tense. “Alastor, that was decades ago.” His voice was quiet and monotone, like it was trying to avoid any spots that may contain emotions.

“You started tinkering again.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

The static in Alastor’s voice dimmed, and he pulled out a pen. “Just try.”

Vox stared at it blankly. “... What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m bad at it?” Alastor had to lean in to hear him.

“Then be bad at it.”

“You literally make fun of me for being bad at things all the time. You called my ‘pictures’ mediocre 30 seconds ago.”

“Is your ego really so fragile?" Alastor sighed. "I won’t make fun of you this time.”

“Why not?”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

Vox shook his head, voice finally cracking and filling with static. “It’s gone, I can’t … it’s not – I’ll just know that I failed. That I let myself lose it.”

Vox tried to turn away, but Alastor gripped the sides of his screen and pulled his face close. “Or you could find it again. You could find that part of yourself and the world and remember what it feels like to be alive. You’ll be alive, even here. How will you know if you don’t put pen to paper?” Alastor’s eyes shone. “I’ll do it with you.”

Vox laughed abruptly, voice wet. “You suck at drawing. And you hate being bad at things.”

“I was terrible at everything before I was good at them,” Alastor said. “I’ll be bad at things for you. We can be bad at it together. We can love it together.”

Vox’s face wobbled a bit. He took the pen. “Okay.”

****

The first few sketches sucked ass. After that, it was like Vox had never stopped. 

Alastor looked up from his shaky doodles of Niffty and a woman with a scar on her cheek. “You’re only drawing me.”

Vox felt his screen heat up. “I like drawing you.”

“Of course; I’m a lovely muse. But you should check if anything else is interesting.”

Sharks were pretty interesting. But after filling a page with hammerheads and a Blahaj plush, Vox went right back to Alastor: those big doe eyes, the curve of his slightly upturned nose, the curl that always covered his cheek …

Alastor glanced over again, but he only smiled softly this time. His doodles were starting to include a little box with antennae and shark teeth. 

****

“FUCK!” Vox yelled from the other room. 

“What is it, darling?” Alastor called. He set his book on the coffee table. 

Vox stomped into the lobby with a rolled up sleeve and the biggest frown Alastor had ever seen. “I think I gave myself carpal tunnel. Some-fucking-how.”

Alastor blinked. “You’ve been drawing in your room for at least four hours a day every day for the last three months. You’re also never fully charged because you refuse to let that interfere with your sixteen-hour work days. You really didn’t expect sickness or injury?”

“I–” Vox looked genuinely indignant for a moment before his eyes went unfocused, probably checking the footage of himself drawing he had stored. “O-Oh. But I meant, like, I forgot this body even had a median nerve that could get fucked up.” Alastor shrugged, and Vox flopped unceremoniously onto the couch. “What now?”

“Well, I’m afraid there is more to life than drawing. You should join my broadcast tonight; we can discuss your woes in detail.”

“Ugh, shut up. You’re just as grumpy when your voice gives out and you have to pretend you have a super important emergency errand instead of admitting you sound like you’ve been smoking since age five.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Vox frowned again. “Mmmmgghhhhhhhhfine. But you’re learning to paint next time you lose your voice.” 

The broadcast went well that night. 

-----

oh, the woes of loving something and getting really good at it and other people expecting you to be good at it and then getting distracted by other things and losing that skill and feeling like you've missed out on your potential but also thinking about it puts a pit in your stomach because every day you wait to start doing it again the more your skill deteriorates and maybe it's not worth it to start again at all but you miss it so much and it used to be a part of you and maybe now you're missing a part of yourself--

anyway. I think my biggest worry rn is about the pacing + vox/alastor's voice. I keep forgetting what vox's voice sounds like, and I kept imagining alastor's pilot voice, which is maybe a little too unhinged for this fic lol.