#also probably over whelmed by feelings

[ihavethedreamies]

Within an Inch of Your Life | Shownu [NSFW]

Son Hyunwoo (Shownu - MONSTA X)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.7k

Pairing: Shownu x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Romance, Some Angst, Very Little Plot, Very Dirty

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Hickeys, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Pet Names (Pumpkin, Princess, Sweet Girl, etc.), Very Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom, reader is on the pill in this story)

Author's Note: This is my first fic, holy cow.

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

You stare at the ceramic up on your bathroom vanity, the cheap blue toothbrush inside it glaring back at you. It is amongst your own teeth cleaning products, mocking you, the bright color stark against the black and white of everything else in the bathroom. Even your own toothbrush is black. Reaching out, you place your own that you just finished using in the cup and grab the blue one. Staring down at it, you aren’t sure how to feel. It had been a few weeks since it was last used, and it never would be again. You blink at it, then sigh, leaving the bathroom and stop next to the trash can right outside the door near the kitchen. Your foot rests on the paddle to open the lid, and you take a deep breath, pressing down as you exhale. Your hand holding the toothbrush lingers over the gaping bin. Swallowing a lump in your throat you don’t expect to be there, you grip the brush tighter. Emotion whelms in you, but you can’t pinpoint what kind. Anger? Guilt? Sadness? Fuck it. You harshly throw the brush in the can and let the lid slam closed as your foot leaves the pedal.

“What’s with the aggression?” Yuna calls out to you from the other side of the apartment where she’s on your couch. She’s rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sits up from her sleeping perch.

“Don’t worry about it.” You still stare at the trash can, now closed. You hear her bare feet on the hardwood floor as she comes up to you. She blows her nose into a napkin she grabbed from the counter behind the can, and you step out of the way to let her throw away the used paper.

“Oh.” Realization hits your friend, seeing the toothbrush, which is the only thing in there. You move away and into the kitchen to get your coffee ready as she takes a place on a stool at the counter.

“What even happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you two break up?” she asks, and you exhale. Grabbing a coffee mug, you put the cup on the perch of your coffee maker and press the largest button. You don’t answer.

“What he bad in bed or something?”

“No.”

“Did he cheat on you?”

“No.”

“Controlling? Possessive?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then why? You don’t seem all that torn up about it.”

“It’s a bit of a relief…”

“A relief? Why?”

“I… I was pity dating him.”

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down. He had been in love with me for years, and I felt bad for turning him down so many times… Also, I was… frustrated without Younghoon being here…”

“So not only was he a rebound, you used him? That’s harsh.”

“Look, he wouldn’t leave me alone, kept asking me out, getting me things. Might as well make it easier and say yes…”

“So…why did you break it off then?”

“I didn’t.”

“He broke up with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I told him.”

“Told him what?”

“That I was pity-dating him…”

“Fuck. That must’ve been rough.”

“Yeah.” You stare down at the swirling liquid in your cup, spoon halting its stirring.

“I felt so guilty I have to come clean.” You rest back against the counter, crossing your arms, somewhat hugging yourself.

“Why? Why not just break up with him? You had to tell him?”

“Yes.”

“What made you do that?”

“Because…” your words get caught in your throat, the truth hitting you hard now that you had to speak it out loud, “b-because I can’t lie… to those I love.” Your voice cracks from the emotions barreling you over, and Yuna’s face softens.

“You fell in love with him…”

“Y-yeah.”

“Then why not stay in the relationship?”

“I don’t want a real relationship with him built on a lie. I had to come clean.” You stand up straight, ignoring your coffee, and go to sit on your bed. You bury your face in your hands, throat catching as you swallow, your eyes burning.

“Oh, girlie…” Yuna follows you, sitting on your bed next to you, and pulls you into a hug.

“I’m such a horrible fucking person.” You start to sob as she rubs your back.

“I love him. I do. I was in denial. It hit me so suddenly and so hard… I think I must’ve felt that way longer than I really realized. God…I’m such a bitch.” You cry as she holds you. Her phone alarm goes off as your crying subsists and she goes to answer it.

“Shit. I have to get to class. I’ll message you later.” She kisses your forehead and gathers her stuff, leaving your apartment. Your cooling drink remains on the counter as you curl back up into bed, soon falling asleep.

~θωθ~

“(Y/N)!” Yuna slams her palm on the door, ringing the bell a few more times. She knows you’re home, she can see your bag and keys on the table through the window. You haven’t answered her calls or texts for three days and won’t open the door either.

“Yuna?” A man’s voice catches her attention, and she turns to see Hyunwoo coming up the stairs to get to the second-floor apartment.

“Hyunwoo? What are you doing here?” She quiets her voice, not sure how you might react if you hear them. She knows your recent lack of activity was due to the breakup, and your realization of your feelings for the man.

“I was going to get my stuff and leave my key…” His voice is noticeably flat, and the woman can’t read his expression.

“You have a key? You have a key!” Your friend lunges forward, snagging the set of keys from his hands. She shoves the metal into the lock and opens the door.

“(Y/N)!” she shouts, storming in.

~o3o~

You bury deeper into your pillows and sheets as Yuna bangs on your door. You don’t want to see anyone, not even her. You feel you don’t deserve her comfort. You are a shitty person who did a shitty thing. You flinch when you hear a key in the lock, wondering who the hell was there. Yuna doesn’t have a key, and only your uncle does as the landlord. You had given the spare key to your ex…to Hyunwoo.

“(Y/N)!” The other woman’s harsh shout breaks the silence you have been dwelling in. You hope your uncle was there too, who else would be able to let her in? You get jarred to attention as your friend yanks your comforter off you and the bed.

“What?” you snap, and she climbs onto the bed, flipping you over to force you to sit up.

“You bitch, you left me on read!” She puts you into a playful headlock and ruffles your unkempt hair. You had showered, but a hairbrush? Who is she? You shove Yuna off, and she gets off the bed, stomping away. When she comes back, you hear another set of footsteps along with hers, too heavy to even be your uncle.

“The only way you’re going to get over this pity party you threw yourself is by telling the truth!” Yuna snaps, yanking your now ex-boyfriend into view past the half wall that separates your sleeping area from the living room. He stands there, staring at you; you won’t meet his gaze. Yuna moves into the kitchen, looking in the fridge and hastily writing stuff down on your grocery list pad.

“I am going to buy you food, you two better talk!” She points at you sternly, at him, and then leaves. You are left in silence with him.

“W-why are you here?” Your voice is scratchy, mouth dry.

“Came to get my stuff…” He nods toward the dresser drawer where his stuff still is.

“Ah.” You lick your chapped lips. You haven’t drunk or eaten much in the last three days, and he could tell; he knew you too well. He leaves your direct line of sight and went to retrieve a bottle of water from your fridge. Coming back, he juts it into your face. You take it, not meeting his eyes. Your small sips turn into big gulps, the cool liquid a sweet relief.

“What was Yuna talking about? You telling me the truth?” Luckily you swallow before he asks, because otherwise you would’ve choked. Closing the bottle, you throw it further up your bed, heaving your legs up onto the mattress, knees touching your chest. You wrap your arms around your knees and chew on your thumbnail, not knowing how to start.

“You wanna tell me why you broke my heart?” His tone is harsh, a tinge of sadness laced through it. Your breath catches, the stinging in your eyes coming back.

“It would’ve hurt less if you just broke up with me. But telling me you only dated me out of pity? I love you; I have for years-“

“I had to tell you.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t keep lying.”

“Why not? You had been doing it for nearly seven months.” His voice is sharp with anger.

“I-I can’t…” you swallow a lump in your throat, fighting your quivering lip, “I can’t lie to…to someone I love.”

You weren’t sure what his reaction is because you don’t look up at him.

“What?”

“I couldn’t keep lying to you… I love you-“ You don’t get the chance to work up the courage to look up at him, his hands quickly going to your jaw, hauling you close and up out of the bed. His lips find yours and the kiss is different from any before, you can feel how strong his emotions are. He’s rough, domineering, barely letting you breathe. His tongue wraps around yours, sucking on it, sucking you into him even more than you already are. The man is practically bent over you, being nearly a foot taller that you, forcing your head to tip back far to make up for the rest of the distance. You whine, hands gripping his shirt from under his jacket, and he swallows every little noise you make. As he pulls away, he bites your bottom lip, the tang of blood hitting your tongue. He steps back abruptly, running his hands through his hair.

“Fuck. D-don’t…Don’t play with me.” He shakes his head, and you stumble back to sit on your bed.

“I’m not. I didn’t…I only realized a few days ago how I really felt… How I still feel.”

“What am I supposed to do with this, huh?” He paces a bit, roughing his hair up further.

“Do whatever you want… I-I’m okay with whatever you decide…” You drift off, not sure what you want him to really do. You want him to kiss you again, but you feel you deserve him leaving and never talking to you again. You feel he should break your heart, like you did his.

“Part of me wants to walk out of here, and never think about you again.” He finally gets out and the words pierce you hard, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Another part of me wants to give you another chance…” You close your eyes, willing the rest of your tears back.

“But there’s something else I really, really want to do.” You hear him get closer but refuse to look at him. You gasp as his fingers weave into the hair at the back of your head, tugging your head back so you look up at him.

“…what?” His lips are so close to yours, but they don’t meet, and his tongue doesn’t taste yours. He instead leans down to whisper in your ear…

“I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life.” You gasp at his words, then find yourself briefly in the air as he tosses you back on the bed. Hyunwoo tears his jacket off and finally brings his lips back to yours. A strong thigh jams between your legs, rubbing against your core, covered only by your thin sleep shorts. His large hand runs down your thigh, hitching it up to his side and he grinds his hardening cock down against you.

“Fuck-!” You whimper as he pulls away from the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. He stares at you intensely till he dips back down, latching onto the weak point of your neck right under your jaw, almost at your throat. He sucks hard then bites at the flesh, making you shiver as you lay there and let him do whatever. You want everything he’ll give you. The man leaves scathing kisses, sucking bruises onto your skin: at your neck, shoulders -and once your shirt is off- your chest, breasts, ribs, stomach, avoiding anything covered by your tiny shorts, giving more marks on your inner thighs. Your skin is on fire, and you’ve never felt so close to cumming before from just this kind of stimulation, but you’re frighteningly close.

Hyunwoo sits back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head, and you are immediately enthralled. Your type is usually pretty boys with a dancer’s body; nothing like him. He was devastatingly handsome and while you normally wouldn’t care for the taught pecs, ridged abs and sharp v-line of his hips… He truly does look like sex incarnate, kneeling over you.

You want to sit up, reach for his belt, pull his pants down and have him fuck your throat, but he’s in control, entirely. You aren’t exactly a dominant lover, never even really a switch, but you were ready to give up full control to him. Your mouth waters at the sight of him shirtless for the first time, your romantic feelings fueling your sexual desire. He undoes his belt and removes his jeans, his hard cock tenting his boxer briefs. Was he always that big?

“Something wrong, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, not looking away from his covered dick. Due to your previous feelings, or lack-there-of, you never really have him a good look; he was just your brother’s stupid friend. Right now, though, you’re getting a really, really good look in.

“Y-you, uh…” Your mother was literally watering…

“Wanna taste?” He grips himself over the fabric and you nod quickly, causing him to huff in amusement. Despite the fact you love a dick in your mouth, you had never done it with him; didn’t let yourself, lest you get hooked. He motions with his head for you to get closer and you crawl across the bed to where he stands at the foot of it. The bed is the perfect height to allow your face to be perfectly level with his cock. You let out a whimper and he tilts his head, watching you in amusement. With shaky hands, you reach for the waistband of his boxers and carefully pull them off. You nearly start drooling as he’s revealed to you.

“Fuck~” You exhale, watching his dick bob in the air as he steps out of his final garment. Wiggling your jaw back and forth, you thank the stars that you no longer have a gag reflex, due to various different…experiences. Looking over him, you can’t believe that he had been inside you before; it made you wonder if your stomach bulged from his girth.

“You just gonna stare?” He steps closer and you scooch the little bit closer your need to, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. Hyunwoo exhales in relief and you groan at his taste. You roll your tongue around him like a popsicle, making him tip his head back with a sigh. Not going any further than the tip, you suck hard, then pull back. This makes him bury his fingers into your hair to prevent you from going anywhere.

“What-?” He tilts your head back to look up at his face.

“Fuck me. My mouth…down my throat~” You bite your lip, and he blinks in shock before a devious smirk breaks out on his handsome face.

“Really? You sure?”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease-“ You open your mouth as wide as you can, and he slowly thrusts his dick into your mouth. The deeper he goes, the more saliva builds up in your mouth, literally dripping from your lips. His cock reaches the back of your throat, and he moves to pull back his hips, but you stop him when your hands fly to his thighs, pulling him closer and further into your mouth.

“Fucking hell, (Y/N).” His voice has a hint of a whine to it. He’s the perfect length, your nose hitting his pelvis as his cock buries in your throat, but not too deep; you would still be able to breathe when he pulls back. You feel your cunt clench, aching to be filled as well. You shuffle, splaying your knees more to lower yourself, angling his cock in your mouth just wright. You look up at him expectantly and he practically growls, beginning to thrust into your mouth. Tears spring to your eyes and you aren’t sure if it was from what he’s doing or the fact that it’s happening at all. Drool was dripping down your chin, tears down your cheeks, and wet from your cunt. You wouldn’t be surprised if when he cums -down your throat preferably- that you would as well. His thrusts pick up some, getting shallower as his grip pulls at your scalp. The slight sting from your hair, the fat head of his cock battering your throat, and the taste of his precum is quickly sending you into overdrive. You’re not usually one for sado-masochism or bondage, but a little pain can be nice. In the back of his mind, Hyunwoo marvels at the fact that you haven’t gagged yet, but he’s much too focused on the wet vacuum of your mouth to think about it too much. The sight of your lips swallowing his swollen cock over and over is orgasmic in itself, but the look in your eyes is what sent him over the edge. They’re glazed over in pleasure; you already look so fucked out.

“(Y/N), can I come inside?” He grunts out and you moan, wanting nothing more.

“Ah, fuck-“ His hips stutter and you feel his hot, thick cum start to flow down your throat. He’s so deep you almost can’t taste his release, which…Just. Kept. Going. You swallow what seems like over and over to get it all down before he was even done.

Hyunwoo pulls out slowly, his cock still half-hard as you catch your breath, finally getting a normal amount of air. Your core’s quivering and you know you came as well from the amount of wetness stuck to the fabric of your shorts, that, and your head was still swimming.

“Oh, pretty girl~” He shakes his head, breathing hard himself. You peer up at him with a dazed look and he has never seen you quite like that. He had seen you close, once, but now your true submissive nature is blooming forth. He knows you’d let him do anything he wants, and man there’s a lot he wants to do to you. He had promised to fuck you within an inch of your life, and he’s going to make good on it.

“What do you want me to do to you now, sweetheart?”

“Anything~” You whine, and he groans, before remembering something. While you had never said it before, he knows you have a thing for hands. You’d told him once he’s not allowed to wear rings because it made his fingers look too good. He wonders how easily you could fall apart on his fingers…how many times he could make you cum tonight.

“You still on the pill?”

“Yea.”

“Good.” He didn’t bring any condoms, not thinking anything was going to happen when he left his apartment this morning.

“Scoot up.” He runs the back of his finger over your cheek, still damp from tears and you scurry up the mattress. You lie back as he climbs over you; watching you watch his hand move to your core. He raises an eyebrow as he strokes over the fabric of your shorts. You always tend to get very wet very easily, but this was much more than usual.

“Did you cum~?” Hyunwoo asks and you nod sheepishly.

“Oh, my god.” He dives in, latching onto your lips, not caring that you’d just sucked him dry. Your teeth clack against his from the messy kiss. His kisses move from your mouth, down your neck, and he settles on your throat again. You’re already littered with hickeys, but he wants to leave more. As he marks you further, he pulls your shorts off roughly, a slight ripping noise coming from the seams. He tosses the last piece of your clothing away; you never sleep with underwear on. Finally, his fingers touch your bare pussy, making you whine.

“Damn, (Y/N)~” He chuckles, burying two fingers into your hot cunt, his thumb finding your swollen clit. You release a long, shaky moan, clenching around his fingers as he finds your weak spot quickly, forcing your hips to tilt up as your back arches. You want desperately for him pull his fingers out and fuck you with his delicious cock already, but you refuse to say anything. This was for him; he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would thank him for it. How had you not realized sooner that this man is the sexiest one on the face of the earth? The pads of his fingers rub against your g-spot in just the right way, and it’s driving you crazy. His fingers move separately; the way they curl and thrust making the sensations unpredictable. He adds a third and spreads them, getting you ready for his huge cock. You feel the strength in his hands, his knuckles rubbing against your walls, and his palm grinding against your clit.

“H-Hyunwoo-!” Your hands land on his chest, your nails digging into the skin, your release building faster than either of you expect.

“Cum for me, sweet girl.” And you do. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, flashes of white dotting your vision. You hear him chuckle, but it sounds like he’s far in the distance, rumbling through the air and cutting through the ringing in your ears. When you come down from your high, your vision sharpens, and you see him smiling down at you. He leans closer, bumping his nose against yours, touching his forehead to yours.

“I love you.” He whispers, and your breath hitches, nearly ready to cry as you reach up to cup his jaw. Your thumbs stroke the arch of his cheekbones.

“I love you, too~” He kisses you softly, his fingers leaving your pussy. His hands cup your thighs, hitching them up to wrap around his waist. You pull back from the kiss with a gasp as he strokes his cock against your cunt, fully hard again. Hyunwoo knows he’s teasing you, rutting against you like that, covering his dick in your wetness but refusing to enter you.

“Please, please, please-“ You begin to beg; you aren’t even close to being ashamed about it either. You need him inside of you, rearranging your insides, carving himself into you, ruining you for anyone else. His hands come up to yours, still on his cheeks, wrapping his fingers around yours, then pin them up by your head. With great dexterity, he shifts his hips and began to slip inside you, still holding your hands. His lips hover over yours, not quite meeting, your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he splits you in half. Not only has it been a while since you two had sex; you hadn’t gotten yourself off either. No fingers, no vibrator, nothing. Hyunwoo groans as he settles deep inside of you, the head of his cock touching your cervix, your walls gripping him tighter than they ever have before. Your legs hold him close, ankles linked; it seems your body refuses to let him go. He just sits inside of you for a bit, giving you small kisses and lets your walls get used to the stretch. His cock’s so deep, it feels like he’s in your throat, and the delicious burn of the stretch is addicting. It never had felt this good before, and you used to think the idea sex feels better the more you love the person was bullshit. No. You’re in euphoria and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Can I move?” he asks, resting his forehead on your collarbone. He really just wants to fuck you into the mattress, but he wants this to last as long as possible.

“Yes-“ you gasp out, preparing for him to knock loose a kidney, but he barely pulls out and then slowly thrusts back in, grinding his pelvis into yours. Even this slight movement knocks the wind out of you. The next thrust is a bit faster, but just as shallow and his breath mixes with yours as he hovers over you. Not pulling out any further, his hips pump hard, and you throw your head back. Hyunwoo moves his hands from holding yours to wrapping one around your wrists so his free hand can move to your back, then shifts you some. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, when he sits up on his knees more, your butt leaves the bed; he’s man-handled you into a near mating press. Somehow, he gets deeper and you if it’s a thing, that your cervix was going to get bruised.

“I don’t think I can hold back…” He grunts; his eyes closing in concentration. What the hell are you in for? You’d never been taken quite like this before, by anyone, least of all him; you ‘made love’. This though, you’re in for him fucking you stupid, like he promised.

“Do what you want~” You plea; he’d stopped moving and you desperately need him to keep going.

“You have anywhere to be the next few days?”

“No?”

“Good, because I don’t want you to be able to walk when I’m done with you~” He gives you a devious smirk, pulling away, resting back on his heels. His strong hands dig into the flesh of your thighs where they rest at his sides, holding him to you. You let him move them and exhale harshly as her forces your knees to your ears, completely and easily folding you in half. Still not moving his hips, he leans down so he can speak right into your ear.

“That pill better work good because I’m going to pump you full of my cum.” He thrusts, hard, and if your breath didn’t leave your lungs, you’d scream a moan. It’s not a shallow hard thrust like before, no; he pulls out nearly all the way before slamming back in. You can even tell how tight your walls are clenching him, desperately trying to hold him in. You’re not able to tell what part of you wants him more -your psyche, your heart, or your cunt- you just know you don’t want him to ever stop.

“Hyunwoo-!” You aren’t sure if you can say anything but his name already, but his next thrust stops all thoughts.

“I want my hand shape to be bruised into your skin-“ He clenches your thighs under your knees tight.

Another thrust.

“I want to brand you with the feeling of my cock in your cunt so only I can every satisfy you.

Thrust.

“I want to fuck you on every surface of this apartment.” As he recites every filthy desire he has right into your ear, he pounds his fat cock so hard into you, you think he might just split you in half.

“I want to paint your skin with my cum and then fill you back up again in shower.”

Thrust.

“I want to fill every part of you that I can: your pussy, your womb, your mouth, your throat, and, if you let me, I’ll even bury my cock in your ass and paint you white there too.”

Thrust.

Your head swims with each word. He was always so sweet and soft before now, but this was different, he had turned into an animal, and he’s determined to fuck you like one.

Thrust.

“I’ll do it all, everything I want, and I promise, I will fuck you within an inch of your life.”

Master-Master List

[the-morningstar-family]

How does Al feel about having triplets? 😆

The radio demon grips the side the table tight.

Alastor: "A-are you sure? You must be mistaken..."

Dr. Chaim: "No, I am very sure, sir. I know that this is probably over whelming. Take your time"

The deer runs a hand over his fac, collecting himself for exactly as long as this screening is going to last. But oh, he'll absolutely freak out later.

Alastor: "... Continue"

Dr.Chaim: “So, this means you are having a high risk pregnancy -”

Alastor, sitting up anxiously: “High risk?!”

And there the composure goes. Right out of the window. Lucifer hands his shirt back, which is anxious partner busied himself with.

Dr.Chaim: “Yes, but all triplet pregnancies are automatically, because the body's strain is much higher. But everything we checked looked really well, so don't panic just yet. If you decide to go through with this, we’ll monitor you and the babies closely to ensure everything goes as smoothly as possible. We’ll discuss what to expect, including more frequent appointments, dietary and lifestyle considerations, and any potential challenges.”

Alastor: “What would I need to watch out for?”

He subconsciously grabs Lucifer's hand, and the king squeezes back. A little reassurance.

Dr.Chaim: “Well, the obvious things, Avoid alcohol, drugs, and stress. You should sleep well, too. You might already notice being more tired than usual, there's no shame in an occasional nap. With triplets the hormonal fluctuations are stronger, thus, often stronger symptoms.”

Alastor nods, fairly simple, something one could deduce on their own.

DrChaim: “Do you have a cat?”

Alastor: “Yes”

DrChaim: “Avoid the litter box, it could contain Toxoplasma gondii, it could harm the fetuses”

Ah, that's the kind he was looking for, something he'd never know 

DrChaim: “Also some artificial sweeteners”

Alastor, to Lucifer: “I told you that junk could never be healthy”

Lucifer: “So I like sweets! Sue me!”

The doctor smirks at their playful banter, and resumes talking.

Dr.Chaim: “Limited caffeine use, two cups maximum. You should avoid high mercury fish or if it's raw… anything raw really, fish, seafood, meats, eggs-”

Alastor: “Raw eggs? Who eats that?”

Lucifer: “Oh but the raw meat is fine -”

The king realises who he's talking to, and snaps his mouth shut. He is rewarded by a raised eyebrow of scrutiny by the radio demon.

Lucifer: “Nevermind” 

Dr.Chaim: “And then there's unpasteurised juice or milk. And finally, some herbal teas and subments”

Alastor: “...That's quite a bit to keep track of”

Dr.Chaim: “We have Porscheurs if you like.”

Alastor, with a sigh: “Well I guess I'll be taking that.”

DrChaim: “No problem at all. I'd like to see you in two weeks. If there are any questions, do call.”

Alastor: “I will, thank you”

They leave the room, and Lucifer thinks that, if he were not as powerful as he his, the demon might've just accidentally broken his hand by how hard he's squeezing it. The smile is sharp, not comfortable. And his shoulders drawn up. Oh boy....

[propertyofhenrywinter]

Long live all the mountains we moved

Max Verstappen x driver!reader

Summary: the aftermath of a crash equals more hurt comfort (can be read as a second part to Long live the walls we crashed through, but also on its own. This ofc isn’t proofread)

WC: 3.2k

Max knew you would be cross with him is you knew he was blaming himself, but he just really felt the need to whelm in his self-pity for a while. For a second he justified this by thinking that you would feel the same if the roles where reversed. That thought however was soon discarded because he knew that if it had been him getting hurt on track you would’ve stood your ground firmer and insisted he’d get checked out. ‘It really is my fault,’ he thought. ‘It is my job to protect her. I should have listened to my gut.’

If max was honest with himself, he had realized something was wrong. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, but something in the way you had caried yourself while talking to the team and other drivers made him feel uneasy. By the time you had chatted with everyone who had wanted to see were okay with their own eyes none of them had thought to have a medic make sure you were completely fine. He didn’t understand their exact reasoning, maybe it had just slipped their mind or maybe they had genuinely believed you were fine, but he had thought about it almost immediately after he had let you go from his side, and he hadn’t stopped think about it while you had been driving away from the track. Now he wished he would’ve been more persistent about bringing you to a hospital, because he had known well enough that you weren’t fine, no matter how hard you had tried to convince him otherwise.

“I just want to go home, Max. Please.” You looked at him pleading and your voice sounded defeated. “I want to take a shower with you, just a shower,” a pointed look was added, “and then I want to cuddle up with you in bed while watching one of my comfort movies and eat ice cream right out the tub. And then fall asleep before the movie ends. And tomorrow we will do the same thing or maybe you could read a bit to me if I’m feeling to soar to do it myself,” she rattled off. “If your feeling soar you should see a doctor,” Max responded sharply, but he had known that the matter was settled and you two would do exactly as you had said.

Of course, it hadn’t gone as you planned. Max had already noticed you had looked worse when you got home than you had at the track, but he shrugged it off, thinking you were probably just tired, and your body need some rest after undergoing the G-forces it did during the crash. By the time you two had made your way to the bathroom he noticed you really weren’t walk normally. “Love,” he started soft, trying one last time to talk some sense into you. “No, please, Max,” you had sounded so breakable with your voice no louder than a whisper. It broke him to see you hurt, so he had let it go although he knew he shouldn’t have.

All hell broke lose when you had tried to take your shirt off. You had only wanted to lift your arm over your head before you had crumbled to the ground, letting out a blood-curdling scream. Max had been next to you in less than a second. He had been trying to figure out what was wrong precisely, but when he had noticed you were on the verge of unconsciousness he had just scooped you up in his arms and put you in his car to speed off to the hospital.

He had no regard for the traffic rules on his way, and although he had thought of calling an ambulance he had known that that would take way longer. While you were drifting in and out of consciousness he thought that he should talk to you. Tell you something encouraging maybe, but he just couldn't bring himself to open his mouth, afraid that any sound but the roaring of the engine and the struggle of your breath would make all of this too real.

When the hospital was less than two minutes away you awoke once again, but instead of the almost inaudible wail of pain he expected to hear again, this time you started coughing like crazy. Max had sworn his heart stopped when he saw you were coughing up blood.

The bright lights in the hospital made the contrast between the dark roads outside even more striking. In the car it had been quiet, just you and him. At the hospital it had been bustling with sounds and people, and you had been ripped out of his arms almost the second he walked trough the double swing doors. In a way he was sad he had reached the hospital, because as long as you were driving he could tell himself that he was doing what he could, while also having you at arm’s length next to him.

As soon as you were pried away by the emergency room staff members a doctor had started asking him more questions than he had believed could be necessary. He had answered them in a haze and before he good and well realized it the doctor had disappeared into the operation room where he had been told you also would be. That’s how he found himself sitting in a waiting area a nurse with dark skin, but light hair had brought him to. There he sat spiralling down in his own guilt.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there when the doctor who had asked him all those questions walked up to him. ‘How is she,’ he almost heard himself ask it, but he couldn’t’ bring himself to actually form the words, too afraid of what the answer might be. Before the silence reached a significant amount of time he heard the doctor. “Your partner will be alright, Mr. Verstappen. I assume her rib was fractured during the crash and when she tried to lift her arm a splinter moved and punctured her lung causing the worst of the damage she suffers. We fixed that during the operation. We also ran a full body x-ray and constated she also broke her left wrist and fibula and of course two of her ribs.” Max listened to the long list of injuries and despite the feeling of despair for your hurt he wondered just how stubborn you had to be not to get check by a medic, because he knew that all those breaks must have been hurting every time you moved. That was before the doctor saw the confusion in is eyes and added: ‘I also assume that an extreme amount of adrenaline was released right before and after the crash. That would explain why she hadn’t felt anything before her rib moved.” After that was clarified only one question rested him: “When can I see her?”

On his way to your room doctor questions, as Max had been calling him in his head, explained that you were still asleep and probably would be for the next hours, maybe even a full day, but that once you were awake and had done a couple of simple short test you would be allowed to go home quickly. “I don’t expect her to have to stay more than two full days,” he had concluded.

When he entered the room it felt like his long got puncture as well, seeing you so pale in bed with your foot and arm in a cast and a bag with clear liquid attached to your arm with an IV. He looked at the clock and saw it was almost morning. He wondered just how long it would take you to open your eyes, because he doesn’t want to wait a full day.

A nurse, an older woman with grey hair this time, came in to check your vitals and also informed Max that he was allowed to stay with you. Once she left he felt in his pocket to see if he had brought his phone with him. To his delight he had. He opened it so he could start informing everyone who needed to know, but the moment his screen lit up he could see he had a ton of missed calls and messages. It took him a while to figure out what was going on, but when he opened a text message from Charles it became clear. Turns out someone had seen him speeding down the streets to the hospital. Max felt a sliver of relieve when he saw your face wasn’t visible in any of the pictures of his car or when he was carrying you inside, but that didn’t change the fact it was disgusting people took and shared those pictures or that it was clear it was you. Some trashy news sites had even already wrote articles. He didn’t bother opening them. There was probably nothing true in them anyway.

He responded to Charles, explaining what had happened. Afterwards he simply copied and pasted that text and send it to everyone who he felt deserved to know. Almost exactly when he was finished his phone rang. It was Charles. Max contemplated picking up, but ultimately decided that since he would be stuck here for a while it couldn’t hurt to hear him out before he returned to the bottom of the mental ditch he had been digging himself in the waiting room.

If Max had thought the doctor had asked him a lot of questions, Charles must have simply impressed him by how long his list was. The Dutchman was tired mentally and physically, so he didn’t put up a fight answering him. Only when the questions were about how he was doing he resorted to one-word answers. Without giving Max a chance to protest, and he really wanted to protest, he had decided he was going to call the hospital to see when visiting hours were and come over as soon as he could.

He didn’t have to wait to long before the man who he had had on the phone only a few hours ago strode into the room as if he was coming to visit them to celebrate a birthday. Much to his dismay Charles seemed to have brought half of all the people he knew. “The more the merrier,” Charles had exclaimed a little to cheery. “It’s a hospital it’s not supposed to be ‘merry,’” Max growled.

He won’t ever admit it, but it helped that there were a lot of people around. Firstly, because that meant he could be mad at them instead of himself and secondly because it distracted him from your seemingly lifeless body in the bed, although you had regained a little colour since he first walked in. Out of everyone he might have been most grateful for George’s presence. He definitely didn’t think that would be the case, but because it was clear that he was blaming himself as well it gave Max the feeling there was someone who understood, even though only a little, what he was going through. They didn’t dare to look at each other the first half hour or so they were in the room together, but once they did see the looks on each other’s faces they grew compassionate towards the other and Max realized casting blame was stupid and so it became a little easier to forgive himself.

People left at various time and to Max’ surprise there were also people who came in, apparently Charles has informed the whole entire world about when and where they had to be to visit you. He wondered how so many people could fit inside such a tiny room and how the hospital even allowed this many visitors.

Considering max hadn’t slept for too long, something else you could berate him for once you woke up, he was pretty glad when visitor hours came to an end and the people in the hospital room started to make themselves scarce. Right when Charles was saying his goodbyes a thought crossed max’ mind. “Could you maybe go to our place and check if I closed the door properly? I left in such a rush, and I don’t remember pulling it shut,” he asked the Monegasque. “Yes, of course. I’ll text you, okay?” To which Max simply responded with a thank you, and for the first time since the hole roller-coaster of events took place he allowed himself to worry about other things than you. He hoped nobody broke in if he left the door open, but that was unlikely considering the whole building had strict security. He hated to admit is but what he actually had wanted to ask Charles was to check on his cats. You would be furious if anything had happened to them, and he really didn’t need anther reason added to the list of things he did that he knew would piss you off.

His eyes and mind returned to you, and he was thankful that you hadn’t woken up while all the people were there. He much rather had you open your eyes to only him and a calm, silent room. You had given a few signs you were closer to consciousness while your friends were here. Things like slightly moving a finger or a squint in an eyelid. He was pretty sure no one else noticed these things, probably because they simply weren’t playing attention to them. However, it had almost been 24 hours and you really should be waking up, which made him worry something was wrong. In the end his tiredness won from the worry, and he dosed off sitting in a position that would make his neck hurt more than the nastiest turns in F1 could under the highest possible G-forces.

He might have fallen asleep, but he wasn’t asleep deep, and so the quietest “Max” ever spoken is what woke him up. When he opened his eyes they were immediately staring into yours. “Hey,” he said as he moved closer to you, “you gave me quite the scare.” He put his hand on the side of your face and his thumb started stroking your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “It’s all good now,” Max replied and before he could help himself he added: “I love you.” “I love you too.” The reply came natural to you. Sooner than he wanted the older nurse came back, and when she saw you were awake she went to get the doctor.

While you were out doing all sorts of tests and scans Max waited in your room. His phone screen lit up alerting him that someone texted him. ‘Door was open, but everything seems ok.’ Immediately a second message followed, ‘Also fed the cats theyre mad you guys left them I think.’ He had added a picture of the animals.

Once your bed was wheeled back into the room the doctor explained to you both how the next few weeks would look for you. It started with the endless list of check-ups you would have to go to and ended with the most dreadful news you had ever hurt. “No physical demanding activities for at least six weeks, so no sporting, don’t go long distances on foot and try to avoid stairs.” For the only time ever Max was glad about your bedridden state because he knew that you would have fought the doctor for keeping you from racing if you could. The look on your face however probably also made him wish he could crawl away into the nearest closet.

After this little briefing you were allowed to go home. You believed Max was happier about this than you were because Max had been there for almost two days. So had you but you couldn’t really remember anything between enter the bathroom and waking up at the hospital. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for whatever stupid reason you are,” you said to your boyfriend when you saw how tight he was clamping the steering wheel. “I’m no,” he responded, “I mean, I did at first, but not anymore.” “Good,” you sight, “than why are you driving like that?” you added with an over-the-top judgemental tone. “Like what,” he retorted fake offended. “Like that steering wheel is the root of all your problems.” He relaxed his hands “Not all of them but there probably are waiting some fines in our mailbox from our trip to the hospital.” You exaggerated a sigh “It’s a shame not everyone is as good a driver as I am.” Max gave you a side-eye. “you’re lucky that crash wasn’t your fault, because I would have held that over your head eventually.” You gasped “You brute.” But secretly you enjoyed that the topic didn’t weigh to heavy between you two. “Also,” Max continued, “remind me who was leading that race again before George so rudely interrupted it?” You supressed a giggle “Oh, I don’t pay attention to that sort of things. All people care about is who is first in the driver standings.”

 Suddenly it hit you; six weeks of no racing meant you would lose your first place, enormously diminishing your chances of winning your first championship. Max noticed the mood change and he could guess what this was about “Look there are only three races in those weeks, and the last one is even all the way at the end of your recovery period. We might convince the doctor to let you participate in that one if you recover well. The only way that’s going to happen is if you don’t spend to much time worrying that pretty head of yours and actually relax. Am I clear?” he looked at you while asking that. “Yes,” you said surely. “And also,” he continued, “it will make our fight for the title even more entertaining.” This time you really let out a giggle, which made you wince due to your soar ribs. “We are the Katniss and Peeta of the racing world.” You spoke. “Who?” Max asked. “Max, please say your joking,” you said, shocked by this discovery, “you don’t know the Hunger Games?” your moth almost hung agape. “Of course, I know of the Hunger Hames,” he said sharply, “I’ve just never watched it.” You decided this was unacceptable and you were going binge-watch all the movies when you were home, witch you were while you ended your scolding to your uneducated boyfriend who had been amused, but more relieved, by how lively you were acting. As you entered the elevator Max finally got a chance to speak. “If I remember correctly there was a showered planned before or movie in bed.” You hadn’t thought about it but suddenly you felt dirty. You hadn’t showered after the race which was two days ago. Suddenly you felt relieved there was no one else in the elevator to smell the odour you and Max, who you assumed also hadn’t showered, were spreading. “A shower is probably a good idea for both of us,” you concluded. Max looked at you and it was clear what he was thinking about. “No Max, remember no physical demanding activities for six weeks,” you laughed.

[skyeoak]

Tmagp 30 thoughts

Vocal performances all slayed. 10/10

I think there’s a lot of good and bad in the finale! But overall, it feels underbaked. (Or overplotted/overplanned?)

I’ll save my finalized thoughts on the hilltop center to see if it’s developed in further seasons, because uh, hmm. Jonny said in the live drop that carousels of horrors were his favorite to write, but they sure are not realllyyyy my favorite to listen to. They’re kind of thematic scattershot. And yeah, one of my critiques about TMA is that I don’t love how we only rarely see how the fears combine and interact. Having multiple creepy things in a curiosity cabinet -com shopping center doesn’t really solve that problem for me.

The idea of a character turning a blind eye to an obviously creepy job is still interesting, especially in how it parallels the staff of the OIAR. But that’s kinda the start and end of my interest in the custodian? It feels like this story could have been shrunk to 1/3 length and had a better effect. I just feel like this should have been a midseason statement, and the finale could have focused on having some sort of action or tension. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting the finale to have a statement at all, to be structurally in line with early TMA. Maybe a full statement/story from Celia, giving the non-TMA audience some idea of why she thinks there’s nothing to go back to in her universe. Hell. Maybe she could just. Tell Sam, uncompelled. I would have loved to see her try to convince him to jump. Convince him that her new life matters more than his (perceived) failure of one. Instead… this is another episode where I feel like the double meaning titles weigh down what the statement could be. And it’s the season finale.

I wondered early on if the finale for this season would feel more like setup for future seasons, and yep. Yep it did. It just felt like there was this inherent tension between the stakes of the story, which are already at interdimensional travel, and the level of danger it feels like everyone is in. Not to mention how Celia just drops a list of alchemical balance things out of the blue. Magnus Protocol is in a tricky situation: they need to set up a new conflict and new characters, and at the same time, Magpod has already done mega-apocalypse hellscapes and so TMagP might feel the need to go bigger. (Imo I don’t think sequels always need to raise the stakes but I understand that’s industry standard). It’s also tackling alchemy, a notoriously complex subject that’s probably hard to explain to an audience in any way that feels natural. You can’t just throw murder worm lady and screaming main character in the finale and call it a day. There’s a lot going on, less time, and I don’t know if the characterization this season was consistent (/consistently good) enough to hold the full weight of it all.

OKAY, WHELMED THOUGHTS OVER, now for the good! Surprise surprise, it’s all the little character payoffs!

Gwen and Lena’s confrontation was EVERYTHING. Gwen is kicking anthills, and Lena is so content to let her stand in them while the ants crawl up her legs. I won’t lie though, I’m not sure if this plotline will be interesting to me. I think it depends on how fast the OIAR staff can get Gwen to actually be on their side.

Sam deciding to protect Celia by pushing the archivist into the void is SENSATIONAL CHARACTER PAYOFF. (This is my interpretation of the scene, audio was super unclear once again, and there was a line change from transcript to podcast that made this super ambiguous in the actual canon audio.) My poor guy has ZERO self esteem, and still wants to be a hero. He probably realized that if what Celia just told him was true, an archivist could actually kill her on the spot. My guess is that (tma spoilers) this balanced the rift not because Celia replaced her own missing soul (plenty of folks got sent through hilltop road in that same incident) but because an archivist+a person were pulled through to replace Jon and Martin. Truly excited to see where they end up, and if this archivist gets developed more as a character next season. Also the implications of interdimensional balance on what happened at the end of TMA are… interesting.

Oh Alice. Everything in this intricately balanced house of checking up on people and soothing them and deflecting tension with jokes is about to come crashing down. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.

And yes, this is a super lukewarm episode review but I do wanna say I liked this season a lot, and TMAGP is still a cut above a LOT of horror I have read/listened to this year. I’m hoping seasons 2 and 3 will either steer further into a direct TMA sequel, angle OR steer clear and become their own thing. TMAGP is stuck uncomfortably in the middle right now. Just be the good parts of her. But completely new.

[draco-after-dark]

How do you think feral’s brozone (and co) would react to finding out about the support group?

Ooooooh this is an interesting one.

I also still need to do designs for Feral's brothers but not much changes just a few small things.

I'm going to take this in the direction of something me and a few other JD's group creators talked about before. It's basically a Brozone day where all the JD support group JD's and their brothers all meet up.

This also makes things easier because Feral can't tell his brothers about the group. For obvious reasons.

I guess it really depends on the timeframe. If were talking right after the third movie then they would all be pretty sad. They don't know where their JD is (except for Floyd but oof) and now here they are watching all these different JD's hanging out with their younger brothers. At least for the ones on good terms with each other.

They would definitely get approach by Eldest at one point or another. That man is wholesome and sweet to not check in on the group of brothers tucked in the corner with no JD insight or even near them.

Que sad convo where they explain they don't know where their JD is and that he's most likely dead. Eldest feels incredible bad and would defiantly make them hangout with his brothers for the rest of the event.

For Feral the event would be so over whelming he would tuck into a corner after running through the crowd trying to see if him brother might be here but would quickly start to panic and then run off. Hitman would probably find him hiding under a table cloth. Hitman would defiantly get some chips from grey and give Feral some snacks. Checking in on him periodically during the event.

Now if where talking a few moths after the third movie things would be a lot different. Feral would be so excited for him brothers to meet his fellow JD's. Upon entering the event he would pin point his favorite JD's very quick. Dragging all his brothers over to Eldest and Hitman. I can Feral grabbing the arms of which ever two brothers are closest to him and pulling them up into the air and shaking them around like a kid going "LOOK! LOOK! I FOUND THEM! WE FOUND EACH OTHER!"

I don't know if Eldest and Feral's brothers would recognize each other but i can see Eldest crying at the wholesome dynamic between them all. Feral's brothers all giving him head scratches like the animal his is. Feral trotting around with Floyd on his back as he gives then a tour of the house. Bruce and Feral starting a wrestling match in the living room. Snake would definingly be cheering on the sidelines or even join it dragging his brothers into the mix. So it just turns into one big play fight. Feral's Clay and Branch simple off to the side shaking their heads.

I can see Feral's Branch getting along with Grey easily and Grey giving Feral's Branch the info on the chip bag tactic. Branch may or may start keeping chips bags in his vest at all time incase a certain purple and green haired troll ever appears. Grey and Branch fist bump.

Also i see Feral grabbing Hitman abruptly when his mid conversation with some and picking him up only to place him down it front of his brothers and Hitman being the awkward man his is just stands stands well Feral starts wildly gesturing around. His brothers don't really know what his saying but clearly Feral really like this JD so after they get past the initial awkwardness they start talking. Also they all lose their minds over tiny Ronda. Clay most of all to where he starts going the shaking hands thing.

So yeah his brothers would be thrilled to know that even though their technically other versions of himself that Feral has a few nice and awesome people in his life.

It also explains where that chewed up prosthetic arm came from that they found in the bunker. Among a few other items.

So yeah they are very happy for Feral and it was nice for them to hear JD's voice again even if it's not their JD's.

Also they loose their minds over some of the stories Eldest and Grey tell them about Feral. Most notable is the chip bag and arm incidents.

They get mentioned so "Hey guys bet your weren't expecting this. L."

Eldest JD belongs to @matmiraculous

Hitman JD belongs to @lemony-and-zesty

Snake JD belongs to @gingisauce

Grey JD belongs to @ijjstlostthegame

[aihoshiino]

chapter 145 thoughts!

what even was this chapter, y'all. i'm getting a migraine.

While it certainly wasn't actively bad, it basically hits on enough of the issues I've been having with the Movie Arc that if you've been reading my chapter reviews lately, you could probably write this one yourself. Weird pacing, skipping over interesting parts of the movie, continued framing of AQRB as a shallow gag and failing to follow on any of the implied development from or literally any referenced fallout of the kiss in 143? It's all here, babes. It would ultimately just be boring and redundant for me to go over all that at length again, so I won't.

I will however say that I'm pretty disappointed we're blasting through what had the potential to be some really interesting bits of postmortem characterization for Ai, even filtered through 15YL. I don't mind the manga breezing past scenes we saw firsthand but like… how did Ai react when she realized she was pregnant? How did she feel, especially given that Spica once again emphasized her longing for a family of her own? IDK. The way the story is suddenly jolting forwards in these last few chapters and skipping such huge chunks of Ai's life ultimately feels very strange and I don't know what to make of it yet.

Everyone reacting to Crow Girl's acting was pretty funny though I'm kind of exhausted with Ruby's Gaga-For-Oniichansensei Gag Character flanderization. IDK if my tolerance for it is just decreasing or if it really is amping up, but at least in the 125-137 stretch I at least got the sense that they could be in the same room and have a normal conversation but ever since 139, it feels that bit more relentless. I imagine this would be less irritating if we knew how the aftermath of 143 had played out but it really seems like the manga is going to drag this out until we're all old and grey.

THAT SAID, this chapter does confirm that Aqua's hoshigan stayed white after that chapter and… eh. Who even knows what that means lol. It does at least imply that his talk with Ruby has brought him back to Baseline Aqua but Baseline Aqua is still a guy with every single mental illness on planet earth so I don't know if that's the world's biggest W quite yet. It certainly implies an improvement over double black hoshigan but… again, with Aqua being so totally cut off from the readers this whole arc and no idea of what happened in the aftermath of 143, it's impossible to make a meaningful guess as to wtf is going on with Aqua right now.

Oh yeah, uh. This chapter also I guess constitutes the reveal of how the AQRB reincarnation happened. I guess LMAO. Honestly, I don't have much to say about it other than it feels like a bit of an anticlimax for me? The idea works fine, the execution just left me… idk. Whelmed at best, underwhelmed at most. I feel like this backstory and the implied deep fondness for GRSR -> AQRB it implies doesn't really like up with the personality she displays in the Private arc but like, I kind of feel like she was tossed into the story without Akasaka having a clear idea as to what her role was even going to turn into so maybe that's not a surprise LOL

I will say I'm glad this seems to quash the theory that Aqua and Ruby were secretly capital-G Gods, instead framing it as a Tsuru no Ongaeshi type return of kindness to two otherwise mundane people. There was some fun fan theorizing around the idea, but for me personally, Oshi no Ko is most interesting when it focuses on that aspect of the story Akasaka highlighted in an interview recently, of human relationships being warped by the entertainment industry and I think an explosion of the emotional stakes to the cosmic scale of AQRB (or tbh any of the characters) being Secretly Gods All Along would be a bit of a shark jump for me and would really shift away from what I like about the series most.

That's kind of it for this one…! Not really a lot to say about this chapter, which is why most of this review was me explaining why I didn't have a lot to say about it.

[fell-contract]

fell-contract's 2024 Albums

#3: c,xoxo - Camila Cabello

Trust me, I've been trying to wrap my head around justifying this placement for months. As someone prone to chronic introspection, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out why certain albums resonate more with me vs. the perceived consensus. This year it was c,xoxo, an album from an artist I’ve generally found artistically whelming at best. So what is it that seemed to ensnare me here? While I’ve been tempted to dismiss it as blonde hyperfemme styling and some new collaborators makes gay brain go brr, it would be an unfortunate downplaying of how much the music here connected with me. Indulge me in the alternative that c,xoxo is a bit misunderstood.

c,xoxo is at its core a tribute to Miami, Florida and Cabello’s own coming of age within its culture. This would all make for a vaguely interesting yet vacuous concept if there wasn’t such an obvious understanding of atmosphere. The heat and haze of Miami is dripping off of this album: fights on Biscayne Boulevard blend into nights of feminine solidarity and taunting past flames, lonely walks from a remote motel to the beach a conduit for fantasies of reacquainted connection. More specifically, c,xoxo is about a woman lost in her own coming of age. The undercurrent of nihilism is probably the album’s biggest subtle strength: the last lyric of the standard album is ‘always been a problem’, a stark admission of unmoored insecurity. This degree of self admonishment was a surprise for me and ultimately what kept me turning this album over like a stone: what does it mean to admit you only exist in someone’s life as a source of pain? There’s refreshing levity to this narrative in the deluxe edition that dropped months later with new closer "Godspeed", where Cabello ejects herself from the cycle and chooses to walk away. As simple as it is, “I wish you well but far away from me” is a satisfying conclusion to the intentional loose ends of the standard edition. Additionally, it was the delayed release of the bonus tracks that converted me from tentative, somewhat ironic enjoyment to genuine appreciation.

What also captivated me about c,xoxo was the intentionally nebulous approach to songwriting. The songs here are built as sketches, broad strokes of color that evoke the scenery of Miami and establish a fully formed persona within it that Cabello had yet to realize in past works. While the lyricism is hardly moving the needle on confessional songwriting it’s still noticeably sharper. From my knowledge of her career, Camila has largely played it straight as a singer-songwriter approach, sacrificing singularity for safety. Here there seems to be a purposeful loss of clarity. Cabello described this as an album about questions without answers and I think that’s what has compelled me to spend as much time with it as I have. At 31 years old I don’t feel like I had any more answers than I did at 21, it’s just that I’m comfortable now not knowing.

This is complemented by some of the best productions of the year. El Guincho is in top form across the album, painting vivid soundscapes where these lyrical abstractions can flourish. The most obvious example here is "Dade County Dreaming" with that demented synth like a hydra emerging to flatten Florida before a ridiculously hooky verse from JT set to piano (!!), but that’s not to discount the propulsive synth work on "Hot Uptown", the hypnotic vocal distortion of He Knows and of course the inspired Pitbull sample on "B.O.A.T." My personal favorite is "baby pink", a shimmering missile of fragmented memory and lost connection that unravels with possibility like an open highway.

Credit where it’s due to Cabello’s own commitment to the vocals across the album. It’s the biggest difference maker on "Come Show Me", a fairly standard bouncy bop that comes alive in its second half with the barely contained glee of her squealing out lines about belly chains, sake and Anna Wintour. Whether it’s the breathless yelp on the chorus of "B.O.A.T.", the feminine exuberance of "DREAM-GIRLS", the wistful sigh of "can friends kiss?" or the delicacy of "Twentysomethings", she’s singing these songs like it’s the album she’s always wanted to make. 

The album’s faults largely lie not in the artist’s performance but rather with how this album was presented. The material is done a disservice by the label mandated table setting of the features: the ones that work are tucked into album tracks, while the center of the album as it was presented were endorsements from Koshi and a disgraced Drake. They’re superfluous on the best day and actively detrimental on a bad one. The intentions here are made even more confusing by Cabello’s own impression of how the album would be released: "baby pink" is the only song to explicitly reference the album title and seemingly was intended for the standard, while "Godspeed" was referenced as ‘the first song where I thought oh we’re making an album.’ I’ve admittedly not played the standard album as it was released since first listen, but this speaks more to the frustrating lack of faith the label seemed to have with this sort of artistic pivot. There’s enough of a case made for Cabello’s reinvention by the rest of the songs, so it’s an unfortunate if understandable sticking point that the album was dismissed at large for these decisions. Still, look past the window dressing and you might find the album I did, one that finally makes a compelling case for Camila Cabello as an artist in the current pop landscape.

As for my own relationship with the album, I’ll concede that it’s been a matter of right time, right place: I was in Florida when the album dropped and it was like this feverish collage of my immediate reality: memories of being stoned in the passenger seat with the sunroof down set to that dental drill hook on "I Luv It", late night ruminations to "B.O.A.T." as I reconciled my frayed relationship with my parents, early morning gym sessions with "Dade County Dreaming" flooding my headphones, or an overcast morning driving back to reality with "June Gloom" playing as we left the coast. These are crystallized as some of my favorite moments of the year, and I can’t divorce that enough to look at this with full objectivity. Stubborn as I am, I can’t imagine I’d admit it even if I was capable. So instead, here’s an overlong write-up for an album that means a lot to me. Sometimes that’s all we can do.

For what it's worth, here's how I listen to the album.

[thlayli-ra]

Looked at the whump prompts and the “sensory overload” prompt spoke to me.

And since I feel like I very much relate to Punk and project my issues into him sometimes in my private writings and I’m autistic sooo…. I wanna see Punk suffer in a relatable way but not written by me✨✨

😬

(Oh Kat, you chose the only prompt on that wheel I had no idea what to do with. Sensory overload is not something I'm personally familiar with, but I've given it my best shot and hope it captures some of the experience. I also had to watch that lovely Punk/Regal match so that's an added bonus!)

Trick - 'Sensory Overload'

Characters - CM Punk, William Regal

Rating - Teen and up

Warnings - Blood, mention of vomit, in-ring cruelty

It wasn't that he expected Regal to be an easy opponent. The opposite, in fact. As soon as he heard those deep, ominous thrums announcing the English veteran as his 'mystery opponent', Punk knew he was in for a rough night.

It's just that... he didn't expect it to all to go to shit as suddenly as it did.

In the beginning, it was pretty standard. The pair of them traded blows, Regal stiffing every single one of his as wrestlers of his generation tended to do whenever they faced against a younger, fresher-faced opponent. Didn't matter to Regal that Punk had been in this business for nearly half of his life now, he was still some upstart that needed taking down a peg or two. Didn't help that Punk was a little more mouthy and confident than most.

Despite the added bite to each blow, Punk gritted his teeth and dug his heels in deeper. Absorbing the punishment to prove his toughness. For in the end, that's all that mattered to these old-school boys - toughness, grit. And in his heart, Punk had always considered himself old-school.

But then he got flung into the corner. The second punch made contact. Right on the crooked point of his nose. Pain erupted across his face, his eyes began to stream and the porcelain crack hit his eardrums from inside his skull. He crumpled to the ground, knees clattering against the boards beneath the canvas, making them bounce and his body sway as he tried to asses the damage done to his nose.

Broken, he was certain of it and when sticky gloop began tricking down the back of his throat, it all but confirmed it.

Regal hadn't noticed. Or had but didn't care. Probably the latter. Next thing Punk knew he was being man-handled further onto the apron, shoved down onto his back. And he could feel the course fibres of the canvas scrubbing against the bare skin of his shoulders and back and thighs and the blood began to flow down the back of his throat and now it was clotting around the rims of his nostrils, on the brink of bursting free-

When Regal's mammoth boot punched against his temple! Smashing the other side of Punk's head against the metal turnbuckle with a clang and the pain went fucking nuclear. Screeching down every vein and vessel and synapse in his brain like a high-voltage electric shock and when he tried to sit up, he nearly fainted or threw up or both.

Shit!

Yet even then, Regal gave him no room for breath, no mercy. The nightmarish shark had smelt the blood now splattered across its prey's face and had rolled its eyes in, readying for the kill. Clubbing Punk in the back of his head, he palmed him across his busted face, forcing him back down before plunging the solid plate of his knee cap (and all 240lbs of his body weight) into the shattered cartilage. The agony burst, the frame of his skull buckled beneath the pressure before snapping back. And the canvas scrubbed his skin and the blood gushed out his nose and down his throat and he coughed to try and shift it, gurgling on his own red-soaked spit.

And still Regal attacked. Like a feral dog shredding a chew toy. Grinding his knee again and again and Punk tried to fight back but the agony was over-whelming and his hands were clumsy, his arms flailed and the canvas was rasping against his shoulder blades like sand-paper. He wanted off the canvas, he needed off the canvas!

But Regal mounted him, pinning his tattered shoulders against the mat. Punk kicked out. Another pin. Punk kicked out. Regal shoved him down again, driving his entire forearm into the splintered shards of Punk's nose. Punk turned his head, tried to fight off the assault and found enough strength to kick out again.

His face was a sticky mess now, splatters across his cheeks and lips and even across his chest. Wet and gluey and hot, burning even compared to his flushed, sweat-skimmed skin. And his head pulsed from temple-to-temple, vibrating like the struck symbol of a drum kit. The arena was spinning around him, a blaze of contorted faces and bright lights and blaring noise, turning in uneven, heaving circles and the feeling in his gut was getting worse and he really thought he was going to be sick but he couldn't be sick, not until he finished the match and got to the back and a voice suddenly piped up in his skull, wondering if his vomit would be red too and he shook it away because that wasn't fucking important right now and the boards were bouncing again but it wasn't him moving it was-

Regal grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked it back. The other hand gripped a fistful of his hair, creaked Punk up onto his knees in order to snare his other shoulder. Those same chafed, red-raw shoulders were now being slowly prised out of their sockets, the pain trickling from his head into his deltoids and trapeziums and even then the agony in his head was still all-consuming and the blood gathered up in his throat again and he had to gasp through it to scream 'no' whenever the ref asked him if he was giving up. And his shoulders were hauled back even more, large palms driving his neck forward, dull throbbing shooting back and forth across his upper back. Regal was trying to weaken his shoulders, prevent him from being able to set up his finisher, the GTS.

Fight back! Fight back!

He listened to that voice. Pushed through the pressure to find his feet, those same feet began stomping on Regal until he relinquished the hold but before he let go, the propelled Punk towards the ropes. He fell horribly on them, catching the top one across his throat. His head snapped back like a coiled spring released and a fresh agony seethed in the base of his neck and a spray of red mist smoked from his bloodied lips into the moist air along with a gross, wet dollop of... something, and his legs wobbled beneath him and the world revolved frantically around him and he clutched his guts as he fought another wave of nausea and-

Regal's punch sent him clattering back against the canvas. Another knee in his mangled nose. Another forearm scrubbed against it. Punk put up his arm to fend the rabid Englishman off of him, when his wrist was snared, twisted, compelled against his will beneath the power of a brutal knee to lie flat on the mat for another pin. Kick out. Pin. Kick out.

These multiple kick outs were tiring him. They were meant to. Each one taking longer, the ref's count creeping closer and closer to two, two and a half. But kick out he did, he wasn't finished yet, not by a long shot.

He just needed everything around him to shut the fuck up for two fucking seconds! Let him think!

Fingers wrapped around his chin, scraggy nails digging in like a falcon's talons. Punk was woven into another hold, targeting his shoulders again, the breathy heat of Regal's body flat against his, and his brain screamed 'NOPE' and he fought his way out of it and his mind bellowed 'FINISH THIS' and he dipped beneath Regal in an attempt to roll him up and get a sneaky three count.

Regal escaped. Struck Punk across the throat to chastise the upstart.

Then grabbed Punk by his shattered nose!

Two thick fingers jammed themselves into his sopping nostrils up to the first knuckle, deep enough to prod against the split cartilage at the bridge. Punk's bloodied lips opened wide and a terrible wail ripped from his throat. Above him Regal laughed and panted and wheezed. And the crowd were going insane, like a pack of hounds when the fox was being torn to pieces, drunk with blood-lust and the aphrodisiac of his suffering. And the ref was yelling at Regal to let go, let go, one, two-

And Punk was released but the throbbing remained and Punk tried to breath through the blood and spit and pain and exhaustion and the noise and the lights and Regal had him by the hair again. Drove the hard part of his forearm into Punk's ringing temple, once, twice, and Punk was failing, was running out of energy and running out of time.

Another hold, the worst yet, wrenching his neck and shoulders until he was grotesquely contorted. Held for too long, too painful. His whole body squealing, from the fog in his skull to the anguish in his shoulders, from the sharp tenderness of his nose to the burn in his throat. And his guts strained and squeezed and his ears rang and his eyes streamed and he wanted this to be over. For all of this to be over.

That desire spurred him on. He found the strength to fight back. Kicks, chops, punches, blows, knees, he sparred back with everything he had and more. Threw his body over the Englishman for a near-fall. He wiped the mess from his face with his wrist tape, spat out the last of the blood in his throat through his bared teeth.

But just when he found his feet, they were taken out from right under him. The arena flipped, Punk tumbling through the air, landing nastily on his face, and Regal pounced on his lifeless corpse, a black-hearted crow swooping in to peck the juicy jelly out of his eyes, and Punk was suddenly aware that his trunks had risen up on one side and had wedged right into the split of his asscrack and despite the pain, despite the noise and the dizziness and the nausea, all he could think about now was the sensation of his stitched seam pressing through his speedo into the sweaty recesses of his ass and he was done, he was fucking done with all of this shit!

Regal hauled him to his feet. Punk bend down and managed to lift him up onto his shoulders. His knee made short work of the veteran and within seconds he had pinned him for the one, two, three and the victory.

Punk stuck around for the post-match shenanigans - the blaze of Kane's pyro was the last thing he needed at that moment in time - and as soon as the programme moved on, he disappeared into the back. Grabbing up his headphones, he stumbled through every corridor and hallway until he found an empty room and slammed off the light. Sliding his bare back down the cool wall, his long hair pulled back off his face, he placed his headphones on. No music played, he just wanted to drown everything out.

Silence

Darkness.

A cocoon of peace wrapping around him.

The pain remained, the throb and stick and choke and hurt but with everything else at bay, he could re-frame the torture in his body, re-direct it. He sat and he breathed and he mentally re-wired his body, taking as long as he needed to wrestle back control of his frantic senses.

As he started to calm down, he began to think back on the match, how everything had suddenly felt so raw and potent. How it had completely over-whelmed, even the feel of his skin on the canvas.

Tomorrow he had a day off, he'd be heading back home to Chicago.

Perhaps it was time to book an appointment with his doctor. Get tested.

Get a diagnosis.

[makeste]

Friday Update Post

I said I'd post updates on Fridays and I'm sticking to that, goddammit. even if there aren't any actual updates to report on! as is the case today. haven't read any new chapters since 385, but I'll probably do another mini marathon tonight, and then hopefully read some more over the weekend. I want to get as caught up as possible before the manga resumes next week, especially since it feels like we're getting closer and closer to endgame-for-reals territory.

also I did watch the new season 7 teaser trailer that just dropped, and was thoroughly whelmed, lol. not that it looks bad or anything! they just seem to be playing their cards really close to their chest in terms of not showing too much ahead of time. just a bunch of shots of characters standing around and looking really grim lmao. it was great to see S&S though. and I enjoyed the LOV focus of the trailer. I think it does a good job of setting the stage for everything to come.

still very curious how they're going to approach this season! I genuinely don't think there's enough content for a full 25-episode season, so I'm wondering if they'll maybe do a half season this time around. in which case I assume they'll want to end things on a cliffhanger in lieu of a more natural stopping point, but that doesn't really narrow things down a whole lot because basically every single chapter in the final war arc is a cliffhanger lol. so yeah, very curious. definitely hyped to see all this stuff finally get animated though. gonna be hard to wait till May.

[cowboyjen68]

Hey Jen! I hope that the fall season is bringing you good times & gorgeous weather. I’m writing because I really need some advice on how to find some balance & get my brain to behave right now. I’m almost thirty and I’ve dated a handful of women who I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, but I recently met a woman who seems to have taken over my brain in a way that has never happened to me before. The feeling of having this intense, thought-consuming crush is brand new for me, and it’s frustratingly distracting! I enjoy her so much, but I find myself practically consumed with it, and unable to focus on almost anything or anyone else. The thoughts of her are nearly constant and I’m worried that it’s going to ruin my connections with other people & the focus on growth within myself. Do you have any advice on how to gently balance the feelings of an intense crush so that it doesn’t…well, crush me? This seems like such a silly, high school question for me to be asking this far into my life but I’ve genuinely never felt this way before and its a lot to handle!

Love and crushes can dominate our thoughts and bodies and I don't think this is a rare experience. I personally believe that chemistry is a real thing and we can't control how intense it is with another person. It just happens and then we have to figure out how to deal with it.

If you haven't spoken to her about it I would suggest that you are honest with her at least in letting her know you have romantic interest in her. Friendships that fall apart over one not returning more intense feelings are probably not that strong to begin with. You don't have to divulge that you are "obsessed" or go to deeply into the intensity of your feelings. Speaking with her and getting an idea of her interest can help to manage your feelings.

If she is not interested that sort of clarity or closure can help you to work through it more quickly and to "reset" your brain and heart to see her as just a friend. IF you spend all of your time wondering how she feels or if she would be upset or happy at your emotions you end up wasting precious energy that can be spent enjoying your time with her, either as a romantic interest or a friend.

Sometimes writing down a list or journaling can help to get some resolution to feelings that feel over whelming. It is one part getting it all out and one part distraction and one part time spent focusing on it so that you can process things. Walking though Reasons why you like her can give you a good feeling and at the same time start to work out reality vs the idea of love. The idea of some one is often way more impressive that the reality.

The easiest answer is time. Finding a new person you click with, even just a friend, can be very exciting and stoke powerful feel good emotions. Time can ease that thrill into just a comfortable companionship.

Also to reassure you. It is normal and common for use to get into a "bubble" with a new friend and forget to put energy into those that already exist. Good and solid friendships can handle those lapses and eventually you get back to normal. No good friend is ever surprised when they see a buddy "fall" for a new person in her life and most can just wait you out or even be an ear for you to bend in order to figure out just HOW much you like this new woman in your life.

I know none of this is a black and white answer, but I hope some of this will let you know you are not the only woman in the world who finds themselves intensely attracted to a new friend nor will you be the last. You are experiencing a very normal path that many lesbians navigate daily.

[gennemi]

𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝟔- 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑨𝑹𝒀

Small Summary: Law and Rosey celebrate their anniversary together  at a festival in Wano, they go to the outskirts of Wano, where he then gives her a special gift. 

A/N: Finally, got Day 6 posted! I know I'm way behind, but I'm trying. I know I'll have, this done before the end of February, just been busy and overstimulated/whelmed. And had a little bit of a depressive moment :(( but I'm okay now! And will get this caught up ASAP! :)) and then answer Any One Piece requests I have! :)) also side note: I will possibly make a reader version of this! So you readers can enjoy as well! :))) but that will probably happen after I finish this event for LawRosey!

Contains/Warning: Smut, minors/ageless blogs DNI, contains fingering and oral (fem receiving), Law loving up on his NOW wife (based on this scene here for LawRosey! It's a continuation), cute nicknames hehehehe

Likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated! Do not steal/copy my work!

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Law and Rosey were hand and hand as they walked the bustling walkway of Wano, where a festival was hosted. Celebrating the fall of Kaido, it was also Law and Rosey's anniversary as well. He still doesn't get how Rosey managed to talk him into this. 

They went to the outskirts of Wano away from people so they could have alone time. “My rose, you look so beautiful in that kimono.” He whispered softly, kissing her small hand gently. “My little rose bud.” He whispered, he slipped a ring on her finger. 

“Oh Law, it's beautiful!” She smiled, as she looked at it. Then she looked at him, she had a bright but shy smile on her face. “Just like you.” He smiled softly, hugging her close to him. 

She blushed bright red, as she looked up at him. He leaned down kissing her softly, which turned into a small make out session. He laid her on the ground softly, his large hands untying the sash to her kimono. “So, beautiful.” He whispered against her lips. 

She whimpered out softly against his lips, as she felt him also untie her underwear. Moving it out of the way, his fingers going to her clit. Rubbing it in soft circles. She let out a soft moan. 

“My sweet, sweet wife.” He whispered, as he continued to rub circles around her clit. Their lips still connected, he gently stuck two of his fingers into her. Curling them, as he started to finger her. Listening to her small gasps and moans of pleasure, trying to keep her noises at bay. As she looked at him, the two held eye contact with each other. 

He started to kiss down her body, nibbling every now and then. Leaving love bites as he goes, he looked at her dripping core. He groaned softly, giving it a small kiss. And then diving in, eating her like a man starved. His lips attached to her clit, sucking it into his mouth. 

She let out moans, and whimpers. As he continued to eat her out, and finger her at the same time. “So, pretty lemme hear your beautiful moans louder, sweetheart. Lemme hear it.” He growled against her core, as he got faster with his movements. Making her get louder with her moans and whimpers of his name, and pleasure. 

“My pretty little Rose.” He groaned out, he curled his fingers more inside of her. Hearing as her moans got even louder. “Shhh, sweetheart, don't want people to hear you.” He whispered, once he pulled his mouth away from her core. “You can be quiet for me, can you?” He growled softly, looking at her with his eyes blown wide in lust. “I'll be quiet, I promise. Just please don't stop.” She whimpered softly. 

He smirked, that sexy smirk that always gets her weak in the knees, as he went right back to latching his mouth back on her sensitive clit, and went back to fingering her tight, wet heat. 

She continued to moan for him, she put a hand over her mouth. Trying to keep her moans at bay, her eyes rolled back from the delicious pleasure he was giving her.

She could feel the coil snap within her, and he could tell she was close as well. As he felt her walls, coil around his fingers. He got faster at his movements. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me!” He groaned out against her. 

She let out a whimper, as her whole body started to shake. And she soaked him in her release. He was quick to drink it up, groaning at the sweet taste of her. 

“You taste so sweet, my little rose~”

She whimpered softly, she felt him kiss her. The two made out for a little bit, she could taste herself on his tongue. Causing her to whimper softly. 

“What do you say? We go somewhere else and continue this~” He purred softly, chuckling deeply. “Yes, please.” She whimpered. 

“You're in for a wild ride, my little rose. And I'm not gonna stop either~” He growled softly, as he shambles the two of them back to the Polar Tang, where he made love to her all night. 

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Masterlist | Requests Open

LawRosey Masterlist | LawRosey Valentine's Masterlist

[raspberryconverse]

I think one of the best things about polyamory is getting to experience different people who have different ways of approaching intimacy. It's the whole "one person can't fill my cup" philosophy.

I had a 2nd date with Beau #6 and it was absolutely amazing. He's sweet and a good listener and very affectionate. Really what I look for in a partner. But when we got back to my place, I realized his style as a lover is very different from what I currently have going on.

When I fuck The Tree, it's very primal. He gets this almost crazed look on his face when he starts getting into. There's lots of impact play (only with hands, because that's enough for me) and dirty talk. I often describe him as proportional to his height (well, because he is) and he loves saying and hearing things me taking it. He really gets off on our size difference (he once offered to move a very heavy antique Singer sewing machine cabinet upstairs for me and when I asked, he said, "I'm a big strong man and I'll happily move something for a cute tiny lady") and while things get pretty intense, there also can be a lot of laughing when we can't quite get things to work as we want them to logistically. His legs are probably about 10" longer than mine (he's 14" taller) and sometimes things just don't line up. But it's fun. Sometimes you just want to be fucked by someone much bigger and stronger than you. One of the things I really missed when I was monogamous was that my spouse was exactly the same size as me: same height, weight, even bra size. Feeling little is something I enjoy and I'm grateful for polyamory to give me the opportunity to experience that.

With FWB #2, he's a much smaller guy (9 or 10" shorter), but as a dom, he's more verbal than physical. He can't really pick me up like The Tree can or physically move me, so there is a lot of being told what to do. And honestly, that turns me on. We have a lot of fun together and I still feel a little smaller, which is nice. After the last time we fucked, I actually came across a porn video that was very similar to what we did, lol.

And now with Beau #6, things are completely different. Things oscillate between a little silly to passionate, but not in a wild or kinky way. I let him take the lead, partially because I like to be submissive (I'm fairly vanilla aside from the impact play, but I definitely prefer to be the more submissive partner during sex), partially because I'm the first person he's dated outside of his wife. He was honestly adorable with it all on our date on Friday and I loved it. There was silly banter about taking my sweater off, saying my bra was in the way when he was looking at my tattoo (along with tracing out the music, trying to remember how to read it from his 2 years of playing trumpet at least 20 year ago), wanting to play hot and cold to find my "spots," saying that me getting on top would give him "the best seat in the house" and best of all, being told to "prepare to be whelmed" once the condom was on. But there was also lots of passionate making out as we worked our way through the hallways, whispers of "You're so sexy" and "I really wanna fuck you," having me suck on his fingers for lubrication and a little bit of soft spanking. I'm really digging his sweet and silly style and I can't wait to explore more with him.

I've also had a change in relationship with a friend from roller derby (I think I'll call her Moxi, after the roller skates). She basically taught me how to skate and hit. I always thought she was beautiful and had an amazing body, but recently we confessed there was a mutual attraction. Then, a couple weeks ago, I went back home to see my dad (hadn't gotten to see him over Christmas because I had COVID) and then went to watch her coach one of the smaller leagues in the area. We went to the after party and caught up. I hadn't seen her in person since her wedding over 2 years ago. We knew we wanted to kiss, but were just waiting for some alone time. Unfortunately, people kept wanting to talk to her, so it didn't happen until much later in the night. But when it finally did, wow. This new step feels so right. We made out a bit outside of the bar and it was just amazing. She's coming down for my birthday party on Saturday (and bringing cupcakes) and probably spending the night. I can't wait to enjoy her beautiful body just have a lovely time with her. I imagine she can get a little freaky, but something also tells me our friendship might make it lean more sweet or sensual. I'll report back and let you know.

I think the thing I've been enjoying the most about polyamory is the ability to experience different people. When I was in college, I had a crush on both a guy and a girl. I found myself disappointed that I had to chose between them. I really had a hard time deciding what I really wanted. I ended up with the girl, but I wonder what it would have been like if I had known about polyamory back then and if either would have been up for trying that. I love not having to choose. My heart is happy and full with different lovers with different intimacy styles. It's really a beautiful thing to get to experience.

[writeforfandoms]

Sorry if this seams too much or weird but I've had this idea stuck in my head for ages!! I love your shifter au works and anons forced shifter ideas.

But like imagine a horse shifter, a forced horse shifter? Oh my gosh the ideas are endless for this Canario! I'm curious on how tf141 would react to a forced horse shifter? Like they don't really know pack/herd etiquette or how to behave properly, getting over whelmed by the instincts?

Maybe instead of anons idea of reader not shifting at all, all they do is stay in their shifted form? Maybe it gives them comfort or a feeling of freedom? Something they never had when they were kept in isolation when they were experimented on and given the serum stuff that forced them into a shifter???

(Also I'm a equestrian myself so i just have ideas like this in my head 24/7)

🐴🐴🐴

Oh interesting! A horse shifter would be a forced shifter, for sure.

This would be an interesting one because I can definitely see them liking being shifted more, they feel comfortable shifted and they find it freeing. They would probably be shifted as often as possible.

Which would be very funny because they've obviously never been part of a pack and would have zero knowledge of that. So the 141 doing regular shifter things has them like side-eyeing the boys. And shifted meeting the boys in their shifted forms? Ends up bolting more than once because horse instincts just go "A PREDATOR RUN AWAY" mostly it stopped after meeting them but every so often if one of the boys sneaks up on horse shifter, they startle or bolt. Every single time it happens gives Price a headache (and heartache)

[bluehairmisfit]

Eye Colors and an Attempt At Personal Growth Somehow?

So, odd detail about me that makes way more sense when I remember that I'm Autistic, but I don't know most of my friends' eye colors. I know my partner's eye color, but not from actually looking.

I can tell you other details about my friends’ physical appearances and external details. I can tell you about their smiles, laugh, their body type, how they walk— hell, I can identify one of my besties by how she walks, because it’s distinct!

But eye color? Pfft yeah right.

Thing is, I look at faces, sure, but eye contact is tricky for me, and sometimes that shuts my noticing mind off. And Not All Eye Contact Is Created Equal.

So like I have three school besties, as I call them. Technically I have another school friend who could leap up to that category if I saw him/spoke to him often enough, but he's very busy, it seems, and while I could stand to reach out more, that's not really the point of this post.

So I have Quest Buddy (QB, as I've called him in posts), Bus Buddy (BB for this post), and Writing Buddy (WB for this post).

WB is someone I was talking to almost daily but we’re both depressed so that has unfortunately slowed down a lot. I think, logically, that his eyes are probably brown, since he’s a POC for one thing, but also because any other eye colors feels odd if I imagine it.

BB, I see about once a week and text maybe 3 days a week. I have no clue what color her eyes are. At all. I don’t know what color her glasses are. I know she has a contagious smile, and I can hear her laugh if I try hard enough to remember it, but eye color?? No clue man.

QB is worse. I can make eye contact with the other two, but I’m not observing details at all. I’m just showing I’m listening. However, I can rarely, if ever, make eye contact with QB for more than a split second.

Thing is, he’s “good” at vulnerability (from an outside perspective) and I’m not, so meeting his eyes for all of about a nanosecond is over-fucking-whelming sometimes and gives me an instant stomachache akin to the tome I journaled 8 pages and then collapsed.

(It’s worse if he’s actively upset, whether he’s hiding it or not, and I have asked before in order to confirm suspicions, so I’m not just projecting)

So yesterday, we had a meetup for basically a mini halloween party, and all three were there. QB and I were talking about lot of the time and I was fucking curious as to his fucking eye color.

(Realistically, I can find pics of QB, BB, and WB, so if I wanted to, I could try to see if I could figure it out from pictures, but... I'm hardheaded.)

So when he broke silence and started chatting with me about video games, I started scheming a little.

(Not scheming, really, since I can make eye contact with SOME people, but I needed to hype myself up for this shit.)

At some point, I started absentmindedly playing a phone game, which I do a LOT during these in-person hangouts, and he starts trying to figure out what I'm doing so I explain the game and start rambling about how I'm not supposed to be playing phone games at meetings because that's a sign of avoidance towards I-don't-even-know-what-until-later (honestly, usually him so I don't make WB insecure, but that's a whole other story), and how I realized at like 16 that if I play the role of "phone-addicted teen/young adult", then people don't question my lack of eye contact.

And then when the conversation continued, I ended up trying to make eye contact at least enough to figure out what his fucking eye color was.

Which, Mission Accomplished, I know the answer to the question.

Now I just have to hope he never asks if he WAS the thing I was avoiding.

[bearloonz]

Thank you for being one of the people who convinced me to finally play Tangle Tower off my Steam Library. What did you think of the ending?

YEAHHH awesome! I’m glad to hear even a couple people might be playing it now! spoiler talk under the cut

I read a comment under a review of the game that said something along the line of “I’ve never been more whelmed by a reveal before. Not over or underwhelmed. Just whelmed.” And. Yea. Literally.

it’s an interesting thing! Like, I think it’s an absolutely fascinating reveal in regards to Penelope’s character (she’s probably one of my favorites) but narratively I feel like it really just. Halts all the momentum of the game. The last like 10-20 minutes of gameplay just being Penelope monologuing at you about her big plan and her backstory? Genuinely saved only by the voice acting, otherwise I would’ve been so clocked out of that in seconds.

I feel like even if we had gotten some art . Like a slideshow or something . To go along with Penelope’s explanations, it would’ve helped. Give us some visual appeal and suspense, even if all we’re doing is sitting and listening.

and it’s also a matter of like. Come on. Did you really have any other suspicions? It’s not a whodunnit if it doesn’t feel like any character has any motive. Never in this story did I think that any member of tangle tower would’ve had any reason to kill Freya, so I wasn’t exactly anticipating the reveal. Penelope was definitely a well-crafted character with a good reason for doing what she did, and I can’t say it was a cheap reveal, it just… wasn’t as impactful when you don’t have any other possible suspicions that you’d be relieved/surprised to know weren’t the killer.

I will say, i probably would’ve found the Hawkshaw reveal pretty surprising but I had already been spoiled somewhat on That reality before I started u_u

so like. Love Penelope, love the emotional introspection of the ending, love the characters in this game. Hell, even the reveal of how the murder went down was really cool (that fucking bird jumpscared me TWICE in that end scene) But the end definitely fell short of being a satisfying conclusion to the “Whodunnit” question, if that makes sense.

cannot emphasize how much the game was still an absolute fuckin delight though. I’ll take the one moment of “huh. Okay.” with the phenomenal experience I had with everything else

[walkawaytall]

So, I haven't dabbled in any form of visual arts in awhile, and I'm feeling the need to scratch that itch in some way, which has led to me revisiting various projects from over the years and, look, I'm not winning any awards any time soon, but also, I feel that some of what I've made is pretty okay. Prepare to be whelmed.

This was my youngest brother's graduation card -- I think this was entirely in crayon minus the mortarboard sticker

Some cookies I made to celebrate "Cat Day", which was when I roadtripped to Austin with a friend so she could pick up the kittens she was adopting:

These are from my watercoloring phase (I swear, I painted things that weren't badgers, but this is what I have photos of right now):

My digital art phase (the spooky trees were a result of freehand work/me just playing around with various brushes in Procreate; the other two involved me attempting to follow Bob Ross instructions in Procreate. I still don't actually know the ins and outs of digital painting, and since I have all the necessary tools and it will require no additional space or purchases, this may be what I get back into for now):

My old office used to do a door decorating contest during the holidays, and I didn't win, but I strongly feel this deserved props at least (snowmen and snowy hills are felt, background is kraft paper, snowflakes are a mixture of regular printer paper and wax paper that I cut with my own hands) (technically, I cut all of this with my own hands) :

Sometimes, I fancy myself a photographer, but not terribly often:

And I swear I've made better use of acrylic paint than this, but it's the only photo I currently have of something I've painted (I know the pattern gets janky at some point, and I am extremely sorry about that. If it helps, I'm pretty sure completing this without redoing the entire thing probably counted as exposure therapy for my OCD):

Not pictured: that time I attempted using charcoal with little-to-no research, a variety of bullet journal spreads, the pom-pom wall hanging from my living room, the many, many magazine collages, and thousands of doodles similar in quality to this:

And, yeah, my handwriting is atrocious. Always has been, always will be, probably. Unless I decide that my next foray into visual arts will involve lettering of some kind. Then, maybe it'll be fair-to-middling.