#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: ~4.6k

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.

EDIT (7/22/24): I fixed this. Since it was my first fic, it wasn't up to my current standards. I mostly just Beta-ed it and fixed some grammar/spelling, maybe tweaked some sentences.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

You stared at the ceramic cup on your bathroom vanity, the cheap blue toothbrush glaring back at you. It sat in there 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. Reaching out you placed your own that you had just finished using in the cup and grabbed the blue one. Staring down at it, you weren't sure how to feel. It had been a few weeks since it’d been used. And it never would again. Blinking, then sighing, you left the bathroom, and stopped next to the trash can outside the door near the kitchen. Your foot rested on the paddle to open the lid, you inhaled, then pressed down as you exhaled. Your hand holding the toothbrush lingered over the gaping bin. Swallowing a lump in your throat you didn't expect to be there, you gripped the brush tighter. Emotion whelmed in you, but you couldn't pinpoint what kind. Were you angry? Guilty? Sad? Fuck it. You harshly threw the brush in the can and let the lid slam closed as your foot left the peddle.

"What's with the aggression?" Yuna called to you from the other side of the apartment where she was on your couch. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sat up from her sleeping perch.

"Don't worry about it." You were still staring at the trash can, now closed. You heard her bare feet pad on the hardwood floor as she came up to you. She blew her nose into a napkin she grabbed from the counter behind the can, and you stepped out of the way to let her throw away the used paper.

"Oh." Realization hit her. She saw the toothbrush, which was the only thing in there. You moved away and into the kitchen to get your coffee ready as she took a place on a stool at the counter.

"What even happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you two break up?" she asked and you exhaled. Grabbing a coffee mug, you put the cup on the perch of your coffee maker and pressed the largest button. You didn't answer.

"Was 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 much…Also, I was, frustrated without Younghoon being here…"

"So, 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?"

"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 have been rough."

"Yeah." You stared down as the swirling liquid in your cup, having stopped stirring the cappuccino mix in.

"I felt so guilty I had to come clean." You rested 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 got caught in your throat, the realization hitting you.

"B-because. I can't lie to those I love." Your voice cracked, causing her face to soften.

"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 stood up straight, ignoring your drink and going to sit on your bed. You buried your face in your hands, your throat caught as you swallowed, your eyes burned.

"Oh, girlie." Yuna followed you, sitting on your bed next to you, and pulled you into a hug.

"I'm such a fucking horrible person." You sobbed, and she rubbed your back.

"I love him. I do. I was in denial. It hit me so suddenly and so hard, I think I must have felt that way longer than I realized. God, forgive me." you cried as she held you. Her phone went off as your sobs subsisted and she went to answer it.

"Shit. I have to get to class. I'll message you later." She kissed your forehead and gathered her stuff, leaving your apartment. Leaving your cooling drink on the kitchen counter, you curled back up in bed and fell asleep.

~*~*~

"(Y/N)!" Yuna slammed her palm on the door, ringing the bell a few times. She knew you were home. She could see your bag and keys on the table through the window. You hadn't answered her calls or texts for three days and wouldn't answer the door either.

"Yuna?" A man's voice caught her attention and she turned to see Hyunwoo coming up the stairs to get to the second-floor apartment.

"Hyunwoo! What are you doing here?" She quieted her voice, not sure how you might react if you heard. She knew your recent lack of actions was due to the breakup, and your revelation of feelings for the man.

"I was going to get my stuff and leave my key." His voice was noticeably flat, and the woman couldn't read his expression.

"You have a key!" Your friend lunged forward, snagging the set of keys from his hands. She shoved the metal into the lock and opened the door.

"(Y/N)!" she shouted, storming in.

~*~*~

You buried deeper into your pillows and sheets as Yuna banged on your door. You didn't want to see anyone, not even her. You felt you didn't deserve her comfort. You were a shitty person who did a shitty thing. You flinched when you heard a key in the lock, wondering who the hell was there. Yuna didn't have a key, and only your uncle did as the landlord. You had given the second key to your ex…to Hyunwoo.

"(Y/N)!" The other woman's harsh shout broke the silence you had been dwelling in. You hoped your uncle was there too, who else would have let her in? You are jarred to attention as your friend yanked your comforter off of you and the bed.

"What?" you snapped, and she climbed on the bed, flipping you over to force you to sit up.

"You bitch! You left me on read!" She put you in a playful headlock and ruffled your unkempt hair. You had showered, but a hairbrush? Who is she? You shoved Yuna off, and she got off the bed, stomping away. When she came back you heard another set of footsteps along with hers, too heavy to be even be your uncle.

"The only way you are going to get over this pity party you threw yourself is by telling the truth!" Yuna snapped, dragging your now ex-boyfriend into view past the half wall that separated your sleeping area from the living room. He stood there, staring at you. You wouldn't meet his gaze. Yuna moved into the kitchen, looking in the fridge and hastily writing stuff on your grocery list pad.

"I am going to go buy you food, you two better talk!" She pointed at you sternly, at him, and then left. You were left in silence with him.

"W-why are you here?" Your voice was scratchy, mouth dry.

"Came to get my stuff." He nodded toward the dresser drawer where his stuff still was.

"Ah." You licked your chapped lips. You hadn't drunk or eaten much in the last three days. He could tell, he knew you too well. He left your direct line of sight and went to retrieve a bottle of water from your fridge. Coming back, he jutted it into your face. You took it, not meeting his eyes. Your small sips turned into big gulps, the cool liquid a sweet relief.

"What was Yuna talking about? You telling me the truth?" Luckily, you had swallowed before he asked so you didn't choke. Closing the bottle, you threw it further up your bed. You heaved your legs up onto the bed, your knees touching your chest. You chewed on your thumbnail, not knowing how to start.

"You wanna tell me why you broke my heart?" His tone was harsh, a tinge of sadness laced through it. Your breath caught, the stinging in your eyes came back.

"It would have 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 was sharp with anger.

"I-I can’t…" You swallowed a lump, fighting your quivering lip, "I can’t lie to someone I love."

You weren’t sure what his reaction was, you didn't look up at him.

"What?"

"I couldn't keep lying to you. I love you-" You didn't even get the chance to work up the courage to look at him. His hands went quickly to your jaw, hauling you close, up and out of bed. His lips found yours and the kiss was different from any before. You could feel how strong his emotions were. He was rough, domineering, barely letting you breathe. His tongue wrapped around yours, sucking you in. He was practically bent over you, being nearly a foot taller, your neck tipping back far to make up for the rest of the distance. You whined, your hands gripping his shirt from under his jacket. Hyunwoo swallowed you and every little noise you made. As he pulled away, he bit your bottom lip, the tang of blood hitting your tongue. He stepped back abruptly, running his hand through his hair.

"Fuck. Don't play with me." He shook his head, and you stumbled to sit back on your bed.

"I'm not. I didn't…I only realized a few days ago how I felt…"

"What am I supposed to with this, huh?" He paced a bit, roughing his hair up.

"Do what you want. Whatever you decide…" You drifted off, not sure what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to kiss you again. But you felt you deserved him leaving and never talking to you again. You felt 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 got out and the words pierced you, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Another part of me wants to give you another chance…" You closed your eyes, willing the other tears back.

"But there's something else I really, really want to do." You heard him get closer but refused to look at him. You gasped as his hands dug into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, making you look up at him.

"W-what?" His lips were so close to yours and while you weren’t sure what he wanted to do, you wanted it too.

"Please, whatever you want." you whispered, but his lips didn't meet yours. His tongue doesn't taste yours. His mouth instead went to your ear…

"I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your life." You gasped at his words, then found yourself briefly in the air as he threw you back on the bed. Hyunwoo tore his jacket off and finally brought his lips back to yours. A strong thigh jammed between your legs, rubbing against your core, covered only by your thin shorts. His large hand ran down your thigh, hitching it up to his and he grinded his growing hard on into you.

"Fuck." You whimpered as he pulled away from the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. He stared at you intensely till he dipped back down, latching onto the weak point of your neck, right under your jaw, almost your throat. He sucked hard then bit the flesh, making you shiver. You laid there and let him do whatever. The man left scathing kisses, sucking bruises onto your skin, everywhere: your neck, shoulders -once your shirt was off- your chest, breasts, ribs, stomach. He avoided anything covered by your tiny shorts, giving you more marks on your inner thighs. Your skin was on fire, and you didn't think you cum with just that stimulation, but you were close.

Hyunwoo sat back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head and never before had you been so enthralled. Your type was normally guys with a dancer's body, and pretty, 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 did look like sex incarnate.

You wanted to sit up, reach for his belt, pull his pants down and let him fuck your throat. But he was in control, entirely. You weren't exactly ever a dominant lover, not really even a switch, but this time it was wholly up to him what happened. Your mouth watered at the sight for the first time, your romantic feelings fueled your sexual desire. He undid his belt and removed his jeans, his hard cock tenting his boxer briefs. Was he always that big?

"Something wrong, pumpkin?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. Due to your previous feelings, or lack-there-of, you never really gave him a good look. He was just your brother's stupid friend. You were getting a really good look in.

"Y-you, uh…" Your mouth watered.

"Wanna taste?" He gripped himself over the fabric and you nodded quickly. He huffed in amusement. Despite the fact you loved a dick in your mouth, you had never done it with him. Didn't let yourself, lest you get hooked. He motioned with his head for you to come closer and you crawled across the bed to where he stood at the foot of it. The bed was the perfect height to allow your face to be perfectly level with his cock. You let out a whimper and he titled his head, watching in amusement. With shaking hands, you reached for the waistband of his boxers and carefully pulled them off. Your mouth watered as he was revealed to you.

"Fuck." You exhaled, watching his dick bob in the air as he stepped out of his final garment. Wiggling your jaw back and forth, you thanked the stars that so many strep-throat tests as a kid killed your gag reflex. You couldn't believe that he had been inside of you before. It made you wonder if your stomach bulged from his girth.

"You just gonna stare?" He stepped closer and you scooched the little bit closer you needed to. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, Hyunwoo exhaled in relief, and you groaned at his taste. You rolled your tongue around him like a popsicle, making him tip his head back with a sigh. Without going much further than the tip, you sucked hard and pulled back. This made him bury his hands in your hair to prevent you from going anywhere.

"What-?" He tilted your head to look up at his face.

"Fuck me. My mouth." You cleared your throat, and he blinked in shock before a devious smirk broke out on his handsome face.

"Really? You sure?"

"Please, please-" You opened your mouth as wide as you could, and he slowly thrusted his dick into your mouth. The deeper he went the more saliva built up in your mouth, starting to drip. The head reached the back of your throat and he moved to pull back his hips, but you stopped him. Your hands flew to his thighs, pulling him closer.

"Fucking hell, (Y/N)." His voice had a hint of a whine to it. He was the perfect length. Your nose hit his pelvis, his cock buried in your throat, but not too deep. While somewhat restricted, you could still breathe when he would pull back; that fact made your walls clench, aching to be filled as well. You shuffled a bit, splaying your knees more, lowering you just a bit. This let him angle his cock down a bit more and you looked up at him expectantly. He practically growled at this and began to thrust into your mouth. Tears sprung to your eyes; you weren't sure if it was from what he was doing or the fact that it was happening at all. Drool dripped down your chin, tears from your eyes, and wet from your cunt. You wouldn't be surprised if when he came -down your throat preferably- that you too would climax. His thrusts picked up some, got shallower and his grip pulled at your scalp. The slight sting from your hair, the fat head of his cock battering your throat, and the taste of his precum was sending you into overdrive. While not one for sado-masochism or bondage, a little pain was nice. In the back of his mind, Hyunwoo marveled at the fact that you had not gagged yet. He was 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 was orgasmic in itself, but the looking your eyes was what sent him over the edge. They were glazed over in pleasure; you already looked so fucked out.

"(Y/N), can I come inside?" He grunted out and you moaned, wanting nothing more.

"Ah fuck." His hips stuttered and you felt the hot, thick cum spray down your throat. He was so deep you almost couldn't taste his release, which…Just. Kept. Going. You swallowed what seemed like over and over and over before he was done.

Hyunwoo pulled out slowly, his cock still half-hard. You caught your breath, finally getting a normal amount of air. Your core was quivering, and you knew you had cum as well from the amount of wetness stuck to the fabric of your shorts. That and your head was swimming.

"Oh, princess." He shook his head, breathing hard himself. You peered up at him with a dazed look and he had never seen you quite like that. He had seen you close, once, your true submissive nature blooming forth. He knew you would let him do anything he wanted, and man was there a lot he wanted to do to you. He had promised to fuck you within an inch of your life, and he was going to make good on it.

"What do you want me to do to you now, sweetheart?"

"Anything." You whined and he groaned, then remembered something. While you had never said it before, he knew you had a thing for hands. You had told him once he wasn't allowed to wear rings because it made his fingers look too good. How easily would you fall apart on his fingers? How many times could he make you come tonight?

"You still on the pill?"

"Yea."

"Good." He hadn't brought any condoms, not thinking anything was going to happen when he left his apartment that morning.

"Scoot up." He ran the back of his finger over your cheek, still damp from tears and you scurried up the mattress. You lay back as he climbed over you; he watched you watch his hand move to your core. He raised an eyebrow as he stroked over the fabric of your shorts. You tended to get very wet very easily, but this was much more than usual.

"Did you cum?" Hyunwoo asked; you nodded sheepishly.

"Oh my god." He dove in, latching onto your lips, not caring that you had just been sucking him dry. Your teeth clacked against his from the messy kiss. His kisses moved from your mouth, down your neck and he settled on your throat again. You were already littered with hickeys, but he was ready to leave more. As he marked your further, he pulled your shorts off roughly, a slight ripping noise coming from the seams. He tossed the last piece of your clothing away, you never slept with underwear on. Finally, his fingers touched your bare pussy, making you whine.

"Oh (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying two fingers in your hot cunt, his thumb finding your swollen clit. You released a long shaky moan, clenching around the digits. He found your weak spot quickly and your hips tilted up, your back arching. You wanted desperately for him to pull his fingers out and fuck you with his delicious cock already, but you refused to say anything. This was for him; he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would thank him. How had you not realized that this man was the sexiest one on the face of the earth? The pads of his fingers rubbed against your g-spot in just the right way, and it was driving you crazy. His two fingers moved separately, the way they curled and thrusted making the sensations unpredictable. He added a third and spread them, getting you ready for his huge cock. You could feel the strength in his hands, you felt his knuckles rub against your walls, and his palm grinded against your clit.

"H-Hyunwoo!" Your hands landed on his chest, your nails digging into the skin, your release building faster than either of you expected.

"Cum for me, sweet girl." And you did. The breath was knocked out of your lungs, flashes of white dotted your vision. You heard him chuckle, but it sounded like he was far in the distance, rumbling through the air and cutting through the ringing in your ears. When you came down from your high, your vision sharpened, and you saw him smiling down at you. He came closer, bumping his nose against yours, touching his forehead to yours.

"I love you." he whispered, and you hitched a sob, reaching up to cup his jaw. Your thumbs stroked the arch of his cheekbones.

"I love you too." He kissed you softly, his fingers leaving your pussy. His hands cupped your thighs, hitching them up to wrap around his waist. You pulled back from the kiss with a gasp as he stroked his cock against your cunt, fully hard again. Hyunwoo knew he was teasing you, rutting against you, covering his dick in your wetness but refusing to enter you.

"Please, please, please." You began to beg; you weren't even close to ashamed. You needed him inside of you, rearranging your insides, carving himself into you, ruining you for anyone else. His hands came up to yours, still on his cheeks, wrapping his fingers around yours, and pinned them up by your head. With great dexterity, he shifted his hips and began to slip inside of you, still holding your hands. His lips hovered over yours, not quite meeting, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as he split you in half. Not only had it been a while since you two had sex; you hadn't gotten yourself off either. No fingers, no vibrator, nothing. Hyunwoo groaned as he settled deep inside of you. The head of his cock almost touched your cervix, your walls gripping him tighter than they ever had before. Your legs held him close, your ankles linked. It seemed your body refused to let him go. He just sat inside of you, giving you small kisses, and let your walls get used to the stretch. His cock was so deep, it felt like he was in your throat and the delicious burn of the stretch was addicting. It never felt so good before, you used to think the idea sex felt better the more you loved the other person was bullshit. No. You were in euphoria, and he hadn't even moved yet.

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

"Yes." you gasped out, preparing for him to knock loose your kidney but he barely pulled out and then slowly thrust back in, grinding his pelvis into yours. Even this slight movement knocked the wind out of you. The next thrust was a bit faster but just as shallow and his breath mixed with yours as he hovered over you. Not pulling out any further, his hips pumped hard, and you threw your head back. Hyunwoo moved his hands from holding yours to wrapping one around your wrists his free hand moving to your lower back to shift you some. With your legs wrapped around his waist, when he sat up on his knees more your butt left the bed; he manhandled you into a near mating press. Somehow, he got deeper, and you knew if it was a thing, your cervix would get bruised.

"I don't think I can hold back." He grunted; his eyes closed in concentration. What the hell were you in for if he was holding back? You had never been taken quite like that before, by anyone, least of all him. You 'made love'. You were in for him fucking you stupid, like he promised.

"Do what you want." You pled; he had stopped moving and you desperately needed 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 gave you a devious smirk, pulling away to rest back on his heels. His strong hands dug into the flesh of your thighs where they rested at his side, holding him to you. You let him move them and exhaled harshly as he forced your knees to your ears, completely and easily folding you in half. Still not moving his hips he leaned down so he could speak right into your ear.

"That pill better work good because I'm going to pump you full of my cum." He thrusted, hard. If your breath hadn't left your lungs, you would have nearly screamed. It wasn't a shallow hard thrust like before, no; he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back in. Even you could tell how tight your walls were clenching him, desperately trying to hold him in. Not able to tell what part of you wanted him more -your psyche, your heart, or your cunt- you just knew you never wanted him to stop.

"Hyunwoo-" You weren't sure if you could say anything but his name, but his next thrust stopped all thoughts.

"I want my hand shape to be bruised into your skin." He clenched your thighs under your knees.

Another thrust.

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

Thrust.

"I want to fuck you on every surface of this apartment." As he recited every filthy desire straight into your ear, he pounded his fat cock so hard into you, you thought he would split you in half.

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

"I want to fill every part of you that I can. Your pussy, your womb, your mouth, your throat. If you let me, I'll even bury my cock in your ass and paint you white there too."

Your head swam with each word. He was always so sweet and soft before. This was different, he had turned into an animal, and he was determined to fuck you like one.

"I'll do it all. Everything I want. I promise, I will fuck you within an inch of your life."

Master-Master List

[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.

[byfulcrums]

Honestly the “JLU Wally is YJ Wally” HC/AU has so much wasted potential. Not only angst but also. Imagine how fucking funny the whole situation could be. Imagine

Wally, against his wishes, goes to an undercover mission with the League. When something inevitably blows up, he gets (reasonably) angry and starts muttering about how “It's a curse, I swear. I am not feeling the aster right now. So not whelmed, man”. Shayera looks at him confused, because what the fuck does aster mean?

He gets banned from going to undercover/recon/non-fighting missions

When he figures something that he feels should have been obvious up he says “Hello, Megan!” and facepalms. He does it a lot, and refuses to explain when someone asks him why or what it means

He's the youngest in the team but he's also one of the most experienced

People usually think that the reason why he tends to not tell the league about what his next move is going to be in battle or why he's so uncoordinated when working in a team is because he's arrogant and refuses to listen. It's actually because he's so used to having the mind link to communicate that now he finds it hard to talk out loud with his teammates sometimes. He's working on it

He'll ask someone something and then get frustrated when they don't answer him, only to remember that he never actually said anything out loud

Not having people in his mind all the time feels kind of lonely. Maybe that's why he was so much happier than usual when J'onn was forced to make a temporary mind link for a mission

He gets frustrated because he wants to watch a show he likes but then remembers that the show doesn't exist because it was created in like 2008. It's a pain

He talks to Shayera about his other red-headed sister, ‘Megan’, and gets uncharacteristically sad and quiet when she asks if she could meet her someday

The original JL members started to pick up on some of the stuff he says, so the phrases “Hello, Megan!”, “Get whelmed” or even the word ‘crash’ are commonly heard in the Watchtower

His relationship with Superman is complicated because he's used to holding some resentment for not being patient with Conner when he first met him so sometimes he's too salty with him, but then he remembers that that was another Superman and it gets awkward pretty quickly

If his relationship with Superman is complicated, then imagine how it is with Batman and Zatanna. One is his best friend's dad from another universe and the other is his friend he's known since he was 14 from another universe who is now older than him

And imagine how it'd be with Red Tornado. He's so used to having the guy as some kind of mentor that being his superior feels off. He tried to connect with him but it was just too awkward for him to handle

He. Misses. Barry. And. Iris.

He finds out that the Jason of this universe came back to life and wonders if his Jason came back too. Too bad he's never going to find out

Let him break down a little. Let him live with the knowledge that he's all alone now (pre-JL). Let him be depressed over the fact that his aunt doesn't even know him because both him and Barry are dead in this universe

He thinks about how he was going to propose to Artemis and doesn't show up to league meetings and missions for three weeks

“Why weren't you here?” “I had some stuff to do haha sorry” (he was laying in bed crying)

Certain things, like eating ice cream or going out to see movies, just aren't as appealing as they used to be. Everytime he sees teenagers hanging out, laughing with each other, he can't help but think about how that could (should) be him

He had to quit the team (more like was forced to quit) because his powers were killing him. Now he's back on the field and isn't dying anymore, but he can't help but think that maybe if he was then he wouldn't have cared much

Wally meets the Nightwing of this universe and immediately starts crying

Think about this: Dick doesn't know him, who know what's up with Roy, Artemis is a criminal, Kaldur probably doesn't even exist, Conner also doesn't exist (yet), Zatanna's way older than him and M'gann is dead. Just. Take a moment to think about it

He has to live with the knowledge that he's probably never going to see his friends, his family again. He has to live with the knowledge that he has no one to go to when he has speedster problems. He has to live with the knowledge that he'll never go home

Clark brings his Ma's pie to the Watchtower once and Wally gets so emotional because it smells sm like the pies he used to (try to) make with Iris and Barry (it was apple pie. They always failed so they bought one from a bakery, and Ma's smells sm like those he can't help but remember the good old days lmao. He cries)

I said this once and I'll say it again: he was going to propose to Artemis

He died knowing that he would never be able to make amends with his soulmate best friend

He has to go on a mission where he sees this universe's Artemis (a criminal) and no matter how much he tries to help her and turn her into at least a civilian, he still wasn't able to make her be even close to his Artemis

He has one of those scenes where the hero (Wally ofc) says “You could come with me. I'd help you. You could get away from the people that hurt you and, if you want to, I'd live you alone once you're safe. I can promise that”, and the villain (Arty) is like “Omg really...??” and acts all hopeful and shit but ends up being “Sike no, I'm never going with u wtf”

He finds out Hal exists in this universe too but is in another planet and looses his shit lmaoo

But like srs. The potential this shit has is amazing and ppl should acknowledge it more

[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.

[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.

[ottosbigtop]

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.

[cleolinda]

(It might truly not be a perfume)

Not A Perfume Superdose, Juliette Has A Gun (2019)

(newly-arrived “discovery set” sample)

Point the first: I wrote about Not A Perfume (2010) the other day, so this is a comparative follow-up.

Point the second: I think this time it really is just one aromachemical, probably. Maybe two, tops. Three?

The whole premise here is that Not A Perfume was “just” cetalox, and so Not A Perfume Superdose is “just” “more” cetalox. Going back to that Fragrantica article, the one talking about how Not A Perfume is in no way One Single Elegant Base Note and is, in fact, three white musks in a hedione trenchcoat:

Let’s say, if in Not A Perfume, the focus was on the smell of the ambergris block, then the Superdose version pushes it aside and instead of the flying and rather invasive white-flowered hedione, it offers us an even more invasive ambrocenide — a cold, even burning ambergris material. Our bed linen is hung out on the street not in summer, but on a winter morning.

Over to the Perfumer’s Apprentice, ambrocenide: what it do?

Powerful and long-lasting top to base booster; lends power to woody and ambery accords; gives radiance and enhances citrus and aldehydic notes at low use levels; propels musk notes to be perceived in the top notes; gives volume and strength to floral heart notes.

(istg someday I’m just gonna order a vial of Cetalox [or Ambroxan, or WHATEVER] and some perfumer’s alcohol and find out what the Single Elegant Base Note would actually smell like)

So, in practice, what Juliette Had A Gun did was remove the secret additional notes and call it super. Reading the reviews for Superdose, however, you start to understand why the original Not A Perfume was sweetened up with some user-friendly laundry musks in the first place. Over at the Fragrantica user reviews, gone are the pears and the fairies and the ghosts and the blood. Now we get (deep breath)

ambergris, a woodshop, sea salt, animal musk, iso e super, lemon, laundry, spice, pencil shavings, Le Labo’s Another 13, paperbacks, rubbing alcohol, plastic bags, a heater turning on, damp fur, cat urine, vodka, whipped cream, body odor, burning plastic; it’s “peppery and harsh”; it’s “mouthwateringly juicy”; it’s “so disturbingly evil”; “this perfume smells like what doing whippets feels like.”

On me, Superdose smells like dryer sheets. Again. But this time, a used dryer sheet, gossamer thin and clinging to a fluffy towel, so it’s not as overwhelming to me as the original was. Yes: I am possibly the only person on earth who feels less whelmed by Superdose. (This is why I don’t try to officially “review” a fragrance and say it’s definitely good or bad, this or that, because it’s clearly so dependent on skin chemistry, before you even get to personal taste. I can’t judge my dryer sheet against your garbage fire.)

Ironically, it wasn’t the cetalox that bothered me the first time around, but the hedione; Superdose doesn’t have any, so it took a whole hour for the headache to set in this time. Honestly, I would be more likely to wear Superdose again than the original Not A Perfume, I think. I don’t know what it says about me that I got the blandest, goodiest-two-shoes results possible, but… no, actually, that checks out. I almost wish my skin chemistry had produced something edgier, but that’s a monkey’s paw wish if I ever heard one.

(Actually, what I have heard is that Superdose really earns its keep as a base for other perfumes you actually like, especially if they’re weak or wear off quickly. Time to get out the Demeter Fragrance samples, sounds like.)

Also in the Juliette Has A Gun set I got: Vanilla Vibes, Magnolia Bliss, Lipstick Fever, MMMM, Pear Inc., and Lili Fantasy. I’ll intersperse writeups of those, long covid willing, with other fragrances as we go. (I’ve already given Lipstick Fever a quick test, and it was unexpectedly fruit forward.) It’s a total toss-up as to what I’ll post about next, but maybe I’ll switch it up with something I actually wear regularly.

[warrior-of-light-is-my-boo]

I had thought today and it was about which of origins + Halsin(I haven’t recruited Minthara and honestly I don’t know if I want to) would react to the Cruck from NADDPOD.

Personally I think most of them would Iike it. Wyll and Karlach for for how free and open and kind the Crick elves are (during the events of campaign one. I’m not caught up with campaign three and the all the drama with the dragon elves). They would probably love it there. I could see them easily becoming Cricks themselves. They would not eat the crawdad shit and that would be the major cultural hurdle. Wyll would be a little overwhelmed by how spicy the food is but Karlach might not notice. She spent 10 years in hell and the foods probably wild down there.

Gale would like meeting them and being around the crock elves but have a mental break down when he finds out almost all of are illiterate. Moonshine would be like “we’re an oral society” and Gale would be like “okay but reading is great??? Help.” I think he’d get over whelmed by how the Cricks do not give a shit about privacy. Like what do you mean you’re going to sleep in my tent please leave. Would 100% get bullied for being wizard. Also would not eat the brown from the crawdads and would be fun of for it.

Astarion, Shadowheart and Lae’zel would hate the crock. The Crick always want to be in their business, they’re too nice, they’re annoying. Astarion also hates nature so he would hate having to sleep in a swamp. I could see Shadowheart warming up to them though the Cricks just have to break through that defensive shell. Lae’zel would start to enjoy it once she realized their legal system is mostly wrestling based. None of them are eating the crawdads. Both Shadowheart and Astarion will die from how spicy the food is while Lae’zel asks for more.

Halsin is in his element I feel like. He’s surrounded by other druids that don’t want to completely disregard the outside world, the animals can talk on their own, and everyone is just vibing with nature? Sign him the fuck up. Would love to be everyone’s daddy (not sexual. The Cricks don’t place a lot of stock on father’s figures as a maternal society). Plus he is free from capitalism. Gets high with Ol’ Cobb and Jolene the Green before turning a bear and taking a nap. Would find it weird that the Crick eat crawdad shit but would be too polite to say no and eat it anyway. Can not handle how spicy the food is but you wouldn’t be able to tell until you looked him in the eye and saw him holding back tears from how spicy it is.

I don’t know a lot about Jaheira and Minsc but I think the Crick would love them. Jaheira would vacation there as she might find them a bit annoying? But that might be me not knowing a lot about her (i have not played BG1 or 2). Minsc would be adopted as a Crick in heartbeat.

If you’re a fan of NADDPOD and BG3 let me know what you think. Or if you have thoughts of the Tadfools in other actual play worlds let me know. I don’t listen to a ton of actual plays but I’d like to hear people’s thoughts.

[mindthelspace]

Eurovision 2024 first impressions

Wasn't sure what to listen to at work, and then I remembered that all the Eurovision songs have now been released! So I thought I'd give 'em a listen.

Until today, I'd heard small clips of the songs in Youtube top 36 lists. That was it.

Caveat 1: I've paid zero attention to any of the national finals, so I'm blissfully ignorant of 90% of whatever drama happened in those.

Caveat 2: Everything below is the personal subjective opinion of me, a knobhead on Tumblr. You will probably disagree with a lot of it and that's fine.

Caveat 3: "Why are you not boycotting when Israel are-" Yes, I know. I do follow the news. I'm not going to go into why I'm not boycotting because that's not what this post is for, but I promise I have thought about it and can explain my reasons.

So, with that out of the way:

Croatia: Strong start! I really like this, and get why it's one of the favourites! I might be on Team Croatia this year- I'd love the winner to be someone who hasn't won before, or hasn't won for decades!

Netherlands: It's... alright, I guess? But I'm not sure it's as funny as it thinks it is, and might get a bit old fairly quickly.

Switzerland: This is interesting, and a nice break from their pattern of the past few years. I'll be happy if this does well :)

Italy: I like this better than I thought I would, based on the little clips I've seen. Still a bit confused about why it seems to be topping literally all the Youtube rankings, though.

Austria: Meh

Sweden: This is the ONE song I couldn't make it all the way through. I, yeah, sorry, I hate it. Sounds AI generated. Sweden, please, you have good music, I know you do, I've heard it, you don't need to send this kind of crap every other year, please!

Ukraine: Ukraine my beloved, always understanding the assignment <3

Greece: Way more interesting than the clip I'd heard previously made it sound!

Germany: This is exactly what I was afraid would happen if LotL didn't do well. I'm getting flashbacks to Michael Rice and his 2019 last place.

Belgium: Meh

Cyprus: Extremely Meh. This is like a composite of every bland, inoffensive, radio 1 song ever.

France: It's a nice ballad. 'For the Mum's, I think is the phrase. S'fine.

UK: Apparently 'obnoxious ear worms' is my country's new schtick. Although like Italy, I do like this a bit more than I thought I would. Also starting to notice a lot of the songs sounding a bit 80's-lite?

Georgia: S'fine, I guess. 50/50 as to whether it breaks their NQ streak.

Malta: Wow, there are a lot of trendy girl pop songs that I have absolutely no feelings about this year.

Armenia: This is enjoyable and I respect it.

Azerbaijan: Another Whelming-to-decent one, but I do like that they're singing in their own language for the first time!

Albania: Snore

Australia: I get what they were going for, but I find this a bit cheesy.

Ireland: Look at Ireland taking a risk! I so, so, hope this works out for them and breaks their NQ streak! I am slightly concerned, just because this is the kind of experimental that can be difficult to translate to a three minute stage performance, but if they give it the creativity it needs it could be their best entry in years!

Lithuania: A nice little catchy thing. Quite like it.

Denmark: Oof, Denmark really are in their wilderness years, aren't they? Look, this isn't bad, but there are a lot of songs that sound similar to this, and this has 'lost in the shuffle' written all over it.

Poland: There's nothing about this that makes it stand out from all the other trendy-girl-pop-songs objectively, but I do have a soft spot for this one.

Spain: This is really cute! I think I've found my favourite Big 5 :)

Czechia: Oh look, we have some pop-punk this year. Cool.

Serbia: I'm... not feeling much for this *now*, but I think it might grow on me once I've heard it a few times.

Finland: I am CACKLING

Portugal: I'm a bit undecided about this, tbh. Might have to see how it is live.

Norway: I knew I'd quite like this, and I do! I feel like the live performance is really going to make or break it though.

Luxembourg: So I've heard this song is *also* Israeli propaganda, and if that's true, a) that sucks, because Luxembourg, mate, this is your re-entry, you didn't want this, and b) it's disconcertingly cheerful.

Estonia: Whatever this is, it has no business going this hard.

San Marino: Another pop-punk. I'm a bit more intrigued by this one than the Czech one. I can't see it doing amazingly, but if the performance is good it could get San Marino a rare Q.

Slovenia: It's OK. Seemed like it was going somewhere and then... didn't.

Israel: Was debating whether to ignore this (and sit there wondering about it), or give in and listen to it once so I could stop caring. Went for the latter. You'll be relieved to know it's bland as shit. The inevitable background booing might even be an improvement.

Iceland: I didn't get Hera Bjork in 2010 and I don't get her now.

Latvia: I really want Latvia to break their NQ streak, especially with how they were basically robbed by the semi draw last year, but this just... needs to be more than it is. A really good live performance could save it, maybe? I don't know. I wanted to like this but I'm not hopeful.

Moldova: Slovenia Two. Another one that was sort of going somewhere for a minute, and then stopped.

In conclusion:

So much Eurodance

So much 80's

Loooads of really similar songs. More than usual. Some of them are inevitably going to cancel each other out.

The "everyone follows the runner ups of the previous year" trend seems to be holding, with lots of similar-vein-as-Noa-Kirels, and a few similar-vein-as-Kaarijas.

This is definitely a year that's less my cup of tea. That's OK. I was spoilt last year. And there are still some solid entries.