#and im not even close to pity on standard

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

BUN

THATS ON THE STANDARD BANNER

IM SHAKING WHAT JUST HAPPENED

Oh nice, they came home together

[qdrntln4]

LILLY.

pairing: lando x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of a deaf daughter, y/n and lando's son being a menace to their dog 😭

wc: 560

notes: im the younger sister of a girl who was born blind and mentally impaired, so i know the struggles of managing a family when people from the outside pity you for something that you can't control. i hope that anyone who's in a similar situation finds comfort in this fic.

The fans were in despair. Their favourite couple, their favourite mum and dad had just found out that their daughter — their first baby — was deaf.

Lando and Y/n weren’t worried though.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Lando walked into his daughter’s room, leaning against the door frame. She was playing the piano like she always does. How amazed of his daughter he was; she couldn’t hear yet she still practiced like no tomorrow.

Lando turned the lights on and off a couple of times before Lilly turned around. she smiled at her father,

“Does this sound right?” Lilly spoke. She was always a good speaker. Even after she became deaf, she relied on her vocal chords to do the work for her. Lando always knew that she would be amazing.

Lando pulled his hands out of his pockets, signing to her,

‘It sounds amazing, beautiful. I think you need to go up one note at the end, though.’

Lilly nodded, turned around and played the same tune again, adding in her father’s advice. Once she had finished, she turned around seeking her dad’s approval. Lando gave her a thumbs up before closing her door to where it previously was.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Out in the living room, Ash was crawling around on his play mat. He was picking up his toys, throwing them around and giggling to himself.

Y/n sat on the couch with the television on. She had a magazine in her hand and rollers in her hair. She had another month off of work so she had every right to spoil herself while she could.

Daizee — their dachshund cross jack russell (…george? 😟-) — was also watching the television. She diverted her attention to Ash every once in a while, being the big sister of the house. Their golden retriever, Charlie, was lying down with Ash and letting the baby play with his ears.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Lando sat down next to his wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek before pulling her into his side.

“How’s Lils?” Y/n looked up from her magazine to look at her husband before placing the book down.

Lando nodded, tracing small patterns on her biceps, “She’s doing good, playing the piano last time I checked.” At that, Y/n nodded before turning her attention to the television.

Speak of the devil, Lilly emerged from her room with a skip. That’s what Y/n and Lando loved to see. Even after given the news by the doctor when she turned three, she never let her condition bring her down.

She stopped in front of her mum and dad before doing a little dance and running off to grab a snack from the kitchen. Typical Lilly.

When she returned and sat down on the long end of the couch, she looked over to her parents to see if they needed her attention. As if she knew, Y/n signed to her daughter,

‘How are you feeling today my sweet?’

Lilly nodded, smiling her famous bright smile that even the sea of papaya loved.

“Good!” She answered before turning to watch the show playing on the big screen.

Lando and Y/n shared a look. A look of knowing, of pride. That was their daughter. The fighter that they created.

…And on the floor was Ash, climbing all over Charlie. That poor dog.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

a/n: thank you all so much for the love and support ive been recieving recently! i cant thank you all enough. here's the fic of the idea from my previous post, i hope it's up to your standards! this is also for @ladyladybuggg who wanted to read this, so i hope you enjoy my love!

[hermajestyimher]

How do I stop letting depression/anxiety control me and how I view myself? I’ve gotten better, but I just feel like my appearance has so much control over me. I am black, but I’ve just been so insecure of my nose and it being on the bigger side, especially compared to other black women (this isn’t to out them down or anything! I think they are absolutely beautiful people and I love them :D). I just feel like I’ve been dealt such a bad hand in life by being unattractive and that all my hardships especially with my relationship with others (romantic and platonic) just stem from me being/feeling unattractive and being a naturally awkward person doesn’t help. I constantly day dream about being a woman like Anok Yai or even someone with the sort of energy as Mia goth. I don’t want this to turn into some pity post, but I want to be able to be beautiful while also replacing this awkward personality of mines. This feels super childish and all over the place, but I just feel a little lost with myself and who I am.

So TLDR is: How do I become/start feeling attractive and become a more confident and charismatic person? Thank you and Im so sorry for the messiness of this post!

Hi my love, it sounds like you need to do a lot of self-concept work to change your internal dialogue and improve how you see yourself. It's essential to build a strong foundation of self-worth and confidence that isn't easily shaken by external influences. Here are some practical steps you can take to begin this transformative process:

1. Eliminate All Forms of Negative Stimuli

One of the first steps in enhancing your self-concept is eliminating the stimuli that contribute to self-doubt. This involves a thorough examination of what you consume daily, whether it’s media, people, or experiences. Start by unfollowing individuals and accounts on social media that make you feel inadequate or pressured to conform to unrealistic standards. Pay attention to how certain songs or films make you feel; if they perpetuate feelings of self-doubt or insecurity, consider removing them from your playlist.

It's crucial to be mindful of what you're feeding your mind. Often, we internalize negative messages without realizing it. These can come from people who appear close to us or through entertainment that subtly promotes insecurity. Perform a detailed assessment of who you’re listening to and determine if their influence is healthy. If not, create distance, whether that means unfollowing them online or spending less time with them in person. Surround yourself with people and content that uplift and inspire you rather than bring you down.

Pro Tip: Make a list of accounts, shows, and songs you consume regularly, and categorize them into “Positive,” “Neutral,” and “Negative.” Actively replace those in the “Negative” category with something positive.

2. Surround Yourself with Positive and Aspirational Content

After you've cleared out negative influences, it's time to replace them with content that uplifts and inspires you. Look for media and role models that align with your aspirations. This could mean following influencers who promote body positivity, self-love, or healthy lifestyles. Find women who embody the qualities you admire and whose lifestyles you aspire to emulate.

Comparison, when used wisely, can motivate us to strive for more. Instead of comparing yourself to others out of insecurity, use it as a tool for growth. Observe the habits, routines, and mindsets of those you admire, and learn from them. Incorporate their positive traits into your life in a way that feels authentic to you.

Additionally, consider expanding your social circle by engaging in environments where aspirational people frequent, such as networking events, workshops, or fitness classes. Being around people who have achieved what you’re aiming for can provide real-life inspiration and show you that your goals are attainable.

Pro Tip: Create a vision board or digital collage of people and things that inspire you. Include images, quotes, and achievements you aspire to. This visual reminder can be a powerful motivator.

3. Reprogram Your Mind with Positive Affirmations

Changing your internal dialogue is critical for improving your self-concept. One effective method is using subliminals and affirmations, which can help rewire your brain with positive messages. These techniques work by bypassing the conscious mind and directly influencing the subconscious, gradually replacing negative beliefs with empowering ones.

Find subliminal audios or affirmation tracks that resonate with you and your goals. For instance, if you're working on self-confidence, look for recordings that focus on self-assurance and self-love. I recommend listening to this one for about 30 minutes daily, ideally in the morning when you wake up or right before bedtime when your subconscious is most receptive. You can find a variety of these resources online, just be careful to read the comments before listening to ensure the affirmations are safe and vetted by others.

As you integrate these practices, remember that consistency is key. Regular exposure to positive affirmations will slowly build a new mindset, one that's more aligned with your true worth and potential. You can also use affirmations to help change your physical appearance as well.

Pro Tip: Write down a set of personal affirmations that resonate with you. Repeat them to yourself every morning and evening as a daily ritual. This practice will reinforce positive beliefs about yourself and your abilities.

4. Improve Your Physical Health

Taking care of your physical well-being is a vital aspect of boosting self-concept. Exercise regularly, not just for physical benefits but also for the mental and emotional gains that come with it. Engaging in physical activity releases endorphins, reduces stress, and builds self-discipline, all of which contribute to a stronger sense of self-worth.

Create a balanced workout routine that you enjoy and can stick to consistently. Whether it’s yoga, running, weightlifting, or dance, find what resonates with you and keeps you motivated. Pair this with a nutritious diet that fuels your body and mind, helping you feel energized and confident.

Remember, discipline in maintaining a healthy lifestyle not only improves your physical appearance but also enhances your mental resilience and self-discipline. These are foundational qualities that contribute to a greater sense of life satisfaction and fulfillment.

Pro Tip: Set realistic fitness goals and track your progress. Celebrate small victories along the way to stay motivated and recognize how far you’ve come.

5. Cultivate Self-Acceptance and Reject Self-Pity

Finally, the ultimate goal is to cultivate a mindset of self-acceptance and reject any form of self-pity. Pity is a toxic emotion that disempowers you and feeds into a cycle of negativity. Recognize that your worth is intrinsic and not solely dependent on external validation or appearance.

Understand that you have the power to transform your life through consistent effort and self-belief. Your value is not determined by how you look or by the opinions of others, but by your inherent qualities and the actions you take to improve yourself. Embrace the fact that you are wonderfully made, unique, and deserving of love and success.

Pro Tip: Practice gratitude daily by acknowledging your strengths and achievements. Keep a journal where you write down three things you are grateful for each day. This practice will shift your focus from self-criticism to self-appreciation.

Remember that the journey to a positive self-concept is ongoing and requires patience and commitment. As you embark on this path, know that you are not alone and that every step you take towards self-improvement brings you closer to becoming the best version of yourself. Keep your head up, stay true to your values, and be proud of the person you are becoming.

You are not lesser than anybody else; you are wonderfully made, and you should be glad to be who you are.

[delicrieux]

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.3: sweet dreams, chicago

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader   genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—anxiety, (+18) masturbation, mb one (1) allusion to a blowjob, swearing, excessive use of cigarettes  word count—3.6k

detailed instructions on how to fuck up your life in 30 seconds

author’s note: tremendously down bad, lonely, and socially inept? not talking abt u LOSER im talking abt carmen. my lil meow meow 

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | eyvcte masterlist | < back. next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3  

tell them

not white, gray – the exact color of cigarette ash, the red ember a reflected streak of sunlight; these walls box him in, and it’s always a surprise that space can feel so vast and so confining all at once. the plastic chair he sits on is unforgiving on his back. his foot sounds a pattern on the tiled floor to impair the silence.

he’s aware of it, of everything: his pursed lips, trembling lashes, quick blinks, slight sniffle, flitting irises, the light coat of sweat forming by his hairline. the taunt flex of his muscles; twitch of fingers that have nothing to grasp onto but each other. the tapping. pulsing in his jaw and temple. the tapping.

tell them

he tries to stare ahead, keep straight – it’s not expected of him, but he wishes he could do it. wishes he could face the silhouette sat across, too close and too far.

“well?” she prompts – a prim woman with a kind face sunken from all the miseries she had collected over the years, “how are you, carmen?”

a sharp exhale through the nose, like a humorless snort; corner of his lips pinching into a grimace that could resemble a smile, if one was generous enough, “how am i?” he repeats, “how am i?”

tell them

tell them

tell them your

“chef?”

storage closet. he keeps his hand firmly on the handle and breathes, jaw tense, head bent, illuminated in the shitty buzzing lights. the containers are organized – did it himself. methodically set cans with no spaces between them, all in neat rows. one’s a bit too close to the edge, sticking out. someone had moved it. he rubs his chin before pushing it back.

his hand falls from the handle and settles on his hip as he sighs, looks up, feels a rush of air tinted with spices and the overwhelming noise of the kitchen pierce the coveted silence of his hiding place when the door cracks open. she pokes her head in and he doesn’t look, can’t look, can’t sleep, can’t–

“you good?”

kindness is always startling, even when it’s the standard. her words hold no weight of deep inquiry, only a shallow question mark. it’s enough. he lives on scraps. “yeah, uh, thanks,” his tips his chin in her direction and his eyes flit over the crown of her head. can’t look for long;  he’ll search for thank you and love you despite knowing they’re covered.

“i was just, uh, was just, needed to check,” he vaguely motions behind himself, and the knot in his throat tightens slightly, “something, s-so…” maybe she decides to take him out of his misery. maybe he’s the only one that notices he’s drowning.

“family’s up.” she informs him, offers a small smile that he thinks is pity. can’t be sure.

“yeah, yeah, o-okay, i’ll, uh, i’ll, i’ll join you in a,” the hasty spill of his words slows, quiets. he inhales, brows crinkled and eyes focused on the new streaks on the floor he’ll have to clean, “i’ll join you in a minute.”

“i’ll save you a seat.” not a proposition mentioned aimlessly and left to rot in his subconscious, but a statement. and she’ll always save a seat for him, because he’ll always be late, and in the rare occasions that he won’t, he’ll be too early. she’ll save him a seat by the table and pat the couch next to herself when the staff’ll huddle to watch a Bulls game; she’ll save a slot for him on her free day to come into his office and help sort through papers; she’ll save her hand from others so that he could hold it and she’ll save a pair lace panties the color of her eyes that’ll tear through the flower pattern because he’ll be too rough and because he’ll like the way they look on her.

she’ll save a cup that’ll shatter during one of their arguments, glue it back together. the cracks will show, and it’ll be blotched, but he’ll still use it, even if the edge’ll be chipped and he’ll cut his lip and she’ll be long gone by then.

he’s mostly himself when he joins everyone, if he even knows what that entails. tina’s explaining form to marcus, and sydney’s on her phone, and richie and neil are discussing something with too many theatrics, and the rest of the staff shares idle conversation punctuated by comfortable silence. there’s an empty spot for him, food set in a plastic container and cutlery placed trimly – must’ve been her. too even, she’s borderline about these things. he appreciates them, because he’s like that, too.

a smile eases the tension from his shoulders, if a bit. he pulls the chair back, takes a seat, and her head ticks to the side to acknowledge him. no big speech, no welcome back or you good again, just a slight curiosity that makes her teeth pull on her lip. he dares a glance that doesn’t linger.

"verdict?” he asks the table, feeling the familiar flutter of anxiety squeeze his throat.

sydney: ‘s good. real good richie: too fucking fancy [god] this the type of shit they serve up in yee-whole-fucking-new-of-the-fucking-york? her: wouldn’t expect you to recognize shit from food [fuck you] since your mouth is always full of it richie: oh ha ha [cousin] look at us folks [cousin] we got a fucking comedian with us tina: shut it [so/rry] both of you. not by the table richie: not by the fucking table, kid [fuck you] marcus: i like it

it’s kinda funny, it’s kinda familiar, it’s kinda comforting. he glances at her again, sees her holding up her knife like a sword aimed at richie on the other side of the table. they mimic one another – in movement, in tone, in smiles that are careful not to display too much. friends. carmen watched this happen in his peripherals, sometimes through the haze of cigarette smoke. observed the pointed jabs and nudges that were harder each time as if they were competing who could knock the other off of their feet first. stupid, amusing, the nascence of a friendship.

whatever. it’s not that, it’s just, just that carmen’s the way he is and someone could roll their eyes at him and kill and sydney, well, he got along with sydney instantly – she came at a confusing fucking time, a breath of fresh air, and really, for a while, he only had her to help him navigate the clusterfuck of a dynamic of his brother’s staff. she was new, he was new, and it was natural they stuck together to survive the nuclear winter of a chicagoan kitchen. till he was approved as one of them, and she was, too, but, and it’s nothing, it’s dumb, fucking idiotic, it’s like he’s six again all of a sudden and no one wants to play ball with him in the fucking playground.

he’s not even left out, and he still feels like he’s somehow forbidden to join, even if he doesn’t want to, even if he doesn’t know what to say. as if he’d break some sacred law and inspire a drastic butterfly affect that would ripple into something abhorrent. the other shoe. there’s no first one and he’s already waiting for the drop.

“cousin,” richie calls, “cousin, she’s trying to fucking murk me. pretty sure that violates some sorta fine print.”

“better sleep with one eye open in that case.” carmy mumbles, a faint smile pulling on the corner of his lips as he watches the exchange briefly before he returns to the food. melts in his mouth. holds a sweet, syrupy tang, and, fuck, this is noma, this has fucking noma written all over it, even the cinnamon zest blended with orange peel.

no noma on her resume; dad must’ve taught her, then. how to blend and cook all of this shit to make the chicken taste like butter. probably needed to scour the whole kitchen for leftover ingredients, open a few rusted drawers for pipettes to measure lemon drops. stay up again prepping. filming. not sleeping. don’t look.

needlessly complicated and missing some parsley. coincidentally, they ran out of it this morning.

he looks at her because she’s not looking at him and for a moment he takes in her profile – the slope of her nose and the dip leading to her cupid’s bow. “‘s good.” he says after a short pause, and as soon as she turns in his direction he’s back to his food. the taste, this time, is compounded by added discomfort, “where’d you learn this from, anyway? there are recipe?”

“my dad. sorta,” she explains, “he’s also a chef. and he used to make it for me when i came to visit, soooooo, since it was my first time cooking family ‘n all…i thought, why not? y’know? just to upset richie.”

“heard that, kid.”

he snorts, leaning back into his chair, head dipped and container held in hand. glances at her from under his lashes, and maybe direct eye contact is not as scary when he wants her to be looking back. that small smile of his is pulls on his lips again, “‘s good.” he repeats.

“you like it?” her voice can be soft, and so can her features.

“i like it,” he admits, “thank you, chef.”

she smiles and it’s like a fucking firework.

he tries not to look too hard, scared what he might find there. metronome. dull, almost, like the beating of his heart in his chest, yet it pulses through him, from the back of his head all the way to his feet. the tapping.

tell them

he rubs his faces with his hands, leans forward, as if the words are physically trying to get out. doesn’t want to say it; doesn’t want to admit that he can’t dress for the weather and that he’s wearing a gray woolen sweater which blends into these walls, that he blends in, that he’s invisible.

“i’ve, uh,” pinches the bridge of his nose, wanes the upcoming headache – too many cigarettes and not enough sleep, “i’ve been going through somethin’.”

like her pictures on a late monday night fresh out of the shower. the phone light catches damp hair falling in ringlets. the towel is still slung around his shoulders – white, clean, he’s done his laundry, it’s a fucking miracle. it was a notification that distracted him mid-way putting on a t-shirt, was like a beacon in the dark on his bedside table. bare feet padded to grasp it and here he stands, gaping like a fucking idiot with nothing but boxers on and cold water dripping down his back.

wasn’t supposed to look. made a promise, swore it in the mirror staring into clear blue eyes that held nothing. wasn’t his intention, either, it just happened. everything seems to just happen to him. she just seem to text him at 1 in the morning the recipe from a few days back, and he just seems to find her profile again because he just wants to look. no further reason. she just seems to follow him and he just seems to pretend not to notice because he’s not very good at this, he’s not really good at anything.

and there she is, confined in a little electronic device held in his hand, looking at the camera, looking at him, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself. text back, likely, but he can’t think of a response – thank you? thanks? thumbs up emoji? chef emoji? just to mix it up a bit. the mattress dips when he sits on the bed. where the fuck are his cigarettes?

never too far, and the lighter isn’t, either, so he stands, and his phone is still in his hand like the thing is fucking glued to it, and he cracks the window open to let the summer night in. chicago doesn’t sleep, and neither does she, it seems, but he doesn’t, either, and when his teeth have something to bite onto he feels like he found an anchor.

thank you and love you are objectively interesting detonators, but there are other rare gems. where she’s smiling. look taken off-guard and never by her personally, always by someone else: hugging a bottle in the midnight new york vista, nursing a to-go cappuccino by the bodega too early in the morning, holding up a plastic puka shell necklace in the backdrop of a souvenir shop somewhere in yucatan. hugging her mother wearing a tracksuit while the former’s poised in a neat blazer. they look similar. carmen looks like his mother, too.

she’s more approachable when her eyes crinkle and cheeks apple and lips stretch to reveal a crescent line in the corner. pretty. real pretty. too pretty. maybe that’s why he doesn’t know what to say. maybe she doesn’t expect him to say anything. maybe that’s why she sent the message.

‘s not fair. he knows too much about her. knows her dad’s a renowned chef and her mother’s a business exec with a penthouse in brooklyn; knows she gets her tattoos in-house, on the couch, from some low-key junkie-looking artist that always wears a beanie;  knows she worked in an upscale restaurant in wallstreet. chef whites, neat, trimmed, fitting – nothing he can offer in his fucked joint. fuck is she doing in chicago, anyway? spent last summer backpacking across europe with a distinctly new york-looking art school dropouts that wore the latest sneakers and tiffany necklaces. rich kids, rich kid, what she gets now was likely her daily allowance.

all of that just because he’s noisy. just because he’s curious. just because she’s pretty and he’s too scared to actually talk to her.

shouldn’t talk to her about anything anyway. too awkward – can hardly form a coherent sentence without ripping his hair out in the first place. he’s her boss, she’d think he’s a fucking weirdo if she knew how much he had gathered about her already. just from looking. does sydney know? does richie know? that would be fucked. oddly insulting, even. but since carmen hasn’t heard richie calling her a spoiled brat yet, he supposes it’s safe to assume this information hasn’t reached him yet.

parasocial as shit. he feels on the verge of a panic attack by the way his heart is hammering in his chest. maybe it’s the 5th cigarette. maybe it’s because he’s been sleep deprived. maybe it’s because looking at her makes him lonely and this is fucked and just put the fucking phone down, carmen.

she's really hot, though. but he can’t say so, not out loud. not right now. not here. not in front of the bed, where the mattress sags when he sits, or in the window, where the wind rattles the glass ringing of common sense.

‘thanks for the recipe’ is a good start, ‘cool tats by the way’ is definitely a line that has crossed his mind, but can’t text that, either. too personal. too easy. too close. fuck did he look at them anyway, too busy staring at her tits. fuck.

she’d think he’s a creep because somehow, in the divine comedy of his life, he’d let it slip somehow, because he’s stupid. because thank you and love you slap at him on odd hours during the day. because he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

feels like he’s a teen again and a girl from school sent him her homework to copy. only the girl in a hot rich kid from nyc that works in his restaurant and is so far out of his league that she’s in a different fucking orbit.

the mattress dips again. he closes his eyes, exhales slowly, rubs his face with his free hand. can’t stop thinking. can’t stop looking. staring. wanting. get a fucking hold of yourself. doesn’t want to. too tired. too fucked. too alone.

she’s so pretty.

so smart.

so fucking pretty.

what is he doing? what the fuck is he doing?

he tries to swallow, but it feels like there's sand in his throat. can't think straight, every corner leads to her anyway in a comical gotcha moment. can't go back. can't go forward. can't do anything but sit here, stare at the phone, think the last threads of his fizzling mind will conceive a reply.

say something. say something.

she's so fucking pretty and his dick is so fucking hard.

inhales again, this time slowly. feels the first tremors of an erection ignored, the pulse in his neck, in his wrists.

his heart is pounding and he wants her to look at him, wants to look at her, wants to feel her touch him, wants to show her how much he wants her.

"fucking christ," he can hear the breathless crack in his voice. feel it, taste it.

his face burns and his hair falls over his forehead, already drying. there's sweat on his brow and a lump in his throat from the steady rise of panic, anticipation, desperation, whateverthefuck. the blood in his veins pounds through his chest – he can feel the vibration in his bones, and god, god god god, he’s so fucking horny.

can't move. can't breathe. can't think. can't stand being alone. can't stand the silence. can't stand not doing anything and can’t stand being like this because he’s not supposed to. not allowed, breach of contract, jesus, who does this shit in their spare time? a lot of people, probably, but carmen wouldn’t know.

"fuck."

he wants to close his eyes because she’s so cold on the screen but so warm in his mind. can’t do that. can't stop palming dick over his boxers, either – wants to pull them down, but that would mean looking at himself, so he stares at her picture instead.

he feels like a teenager again, vaguely wants to throw up. can't believe how hard he is. he's not supposed to be like this. this isn't going to end well.

he knows he's gonna fuck this up because he's already fucking it up. can't stop staring at her. can't stop touching himself. can't stop thinking about what she'd do if she knew he was sitting here ready to jerk off to her.

she'd probably freak the fuck out, and she'd have every right to. that doesn't stop that wandering hand of his from dipping below the elastic band anyway.

his breath scratches at his throat, stuck there as he feels his hand brush something warm. glances down, sees his middle finger pressing against the swollen tip. looks back at the phone, sees her smile, the hint of her teeth; his cock twitches at the sight of her like some deranged pavlovian response. his fingers curl around his shaft and go down in a nice, long stroke.

"fuck me," he hisses. eyes squeeze shut and hips push forward and head rolls back to release a small groan.

it's a slow slide of a rough palm, with just enough pressure to cause shivers. he thinks of her lips wrapped around his him. the way her tongue would tease him. the way her hair would tickle his thighs.

"so pretty," he breathes, but the words are lost in the rhythm of his hand, "fuck, sorry."

fingers and palm slide over the sensitive head, each pass adding more pressure until his hips buck and it feels like someone punched him in the gut and he sucks in a breath, the sound coming out more like a moan; squeeze, tighter this time, and he groans louder, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. teeth clamp down on his lower lip and all the oxygen in his lungs leaves with that.

the hand with the hand pierced by a kitchen knife pumps faster, coating the creases and veins in warm, sticky pre-cum leaking from the tip and leaving a stain on his boxers. he's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the throbbing of his cock.

he's so close already. so close he feels like he might actually lose his mind if he doesn't come soon.

"hm, fuck," he breathes out, eyes squeezing shut and fist tightening around the shaft as his hips jerk forward to meet the movement.

everything is swimming and spinning in the liquid dark around him, all the sensations coiled up into one chaotic bundle that's threatening to overwhelm him.

"yes," can't be his voice, can it? too raw, too desperate, too loud.

fist tightens even more and the throbbing is too much. feels like something is trying to get out of his body, like it's going to burst through his skin.

"oh fuck. oh fuck, oh fuck—"

everything is happening at once. everything is mounting to a small cry of her name.

he comes. coughs and huffs, head tipping back and hand still pumping. there's a low groan coming from his chest that sounds like it originated from some other person entirely.

then, it stills. his back hits the bed and he tries to gulp down air that stutters down his throat, the phone bouncing on the mattress beside him. the motions ripple in his spine, in tensed muscles that’ve gone lax. calm. outside the window, a siren howls first, then a dog.

he’s spent. feels good. cold air bites skin coated in sweat, like ice melting in the bed of a warm palm. “fuck.”

but the reality of the situation rips through the haze just as quick, and ignited by a sudden fucking unbearable anger, he grabs his phone and throws it across the room, “FUCK.”

ch.4: normal people

tags <3 @rexorangecouny - @astridyoo15 - @elliesbabygirl - @fortisfilia - @diorrfairy - @frequentnosebleeder - @eddiemunsonreader 

more notes: sum fun lil gemmie gems for my narrative lovin girlies in chat  1. timeline is worky asf, things flowing in an out perception - imagine it like moving frames of the show 2. carmy says “’s good” whilst he admires her silently - is he referring to her or the food? 3. who text their boss at 1am? rich kid explain 4. the swearing increases the more he’s distressed 5. major virgin alert, can u tell? 6. this is the only chapter so far where ive used caps lock

[assmaster-8000]

how do you think cecile would react to you falling for him instead of one of the main characters? would he push you away? or do you think he’d try to pursue you as well?

i honestly think he'd just look at you funny and beat the shit out of you. then spit on your dead body and leave. unfortunately for him, id just moan

seriously, though? i guess it really depends on how close you are to him. if he's still untrusting of you (which will last for a long time because he's not easy to romance, i imagine), then he'd curl his lip at the idea... and maybe almost pity you. like, seriously. of all people. you want the one man who wants to strangle you like a raggedy ann doll. pick your standards and your deadbeat body off the floor lest he trip on you. where the fuck are the palace maids when you need them?

if he's more accepting of you, then i think it'd send him into a big dilemma. he's not interested in the why's and when's and how's.

he just knows that it's wrong.

you just had to ruin it all, didn't you? and what a fucking shame, at that, because he was just starting to trust you. your interest in him is legitimately a betrayal to him because he can't have people burdening him. yes, this love is a burden. the moment you care is the moment you tether others, and that's not very convenient for his job.

he can't believe it.

all this time, through out everything that you two have gone through, you've been harbouring this dirty desire, haven't you? it sickens him. (love sickens him, it always does. he was not made for it.) he can't even stand to look at you.

so he doesn't.

he's not above abandoning you high and dry; remember first and foremost that he has a duty. he can't be troubling himself with such matters, and really - he's doing you a favour. no good comes of loving men like him. he flinches in the face of intimacy, he snarls at vulnerability. he won't do it, he can't.

he can't put himself through the painful ordeal that knowing; yes, he is, in his own way, starting to care for you too. just leave him alone. please.

but you never do. you never fucking listen, don't you? this one time, he tries to be nice, and you spit in his face by chasing after him. you better not regret what comes next - when cécile finally decides that you aren't too bad to hunt down.

alas... one never knows how well a prey animal can fight back, much less if they are prey at all and not another predator disguising themself under sweet wool. because let's face it; the way you torture him? by making him want you back? you're no innocent lamb. you are another foreign wolf, and now... he can't tell if he wants to kill you, or make you his, or both.

atleast that's what i think! :p cécile realising that mc likes him and then realising he likes mc is just gonna be a shit show of push and pull like a tag of war and honestly, im here for it. it's gonna be a LOT of push, kinda like a constant warning. but once he finally decides to give in, there is no going back. he's not gonna push you away anymore - he's gonna pull you in like a black hole consumes all. WAITERRRRRR WAITERRRRR ONE EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE MAN NEOWWWWW

[fictionfixations]

IM GOING TO SCREAM

guys i know i said i wanted aven but also realllly wanted to wait until i could hear how sunday played (my new idea is just. im gonna pull for aven. if i get him then im going to pray i can get sunday somehow bc i do actually need aven)

but like

like

guys im a dan heng IL main (i got him on his first banner, stopped playing the game, came back for aven and in time for aven's banner but didnt manage to get him. ahdwauishuahd)

i want his lightcone i dont have it i gave him clara's 😭(i wanna give him eidolons too but thats kind of tough for a f2p) i mean i dont think her lightcone is bad but theres something about giving a character the lightcone that belongs to them. hiaudhawidiud

hhhhhhhhh its fine im still gonna skip for aventurine because i do need to be serious with my savings.

cause so the state of it rn is that i have a guaranteed 5 star, at something something pity i cant remember and i have like 20 pulls rn so im gonna pray aven comes home and that idk sunday comes home somehow too (otherwise im using sunday as my support instead of aven all the time since i would assume i have aven by then)

otherwise reruns i love you but man my list of characters or things i wanna pull for is growing so fast 😭

i dont think i have a good lightcone for aven but hes gonna have to deal with it 💀

i cant remember if i ever pulled geppie's lightcone (i dont think so?? i think ive only pulled the lightcones of clara and welt)

i dont think so. we'll see. 🙏🙏🙏

update:

29 pity w/ guaranteed 5 star on character banner, and 28 pulls saved (+4 in starlight exchange but idk if i wanna use it or if i wanna save it to maybe get one of the lightcones in the distant future)

i have 70 pity on lightcone banner (which. makes sense. tbh i dont recall getting a 5 star on lightcone ever? i might be wrong but i think all the lightcones i got have been mainly from standard 5 stars included)

n 12 pity on standard banner which i DO have geppie's lightcone i just forgot i did

idk if thats a good lightcone for aven but hes gonna have to deal with it

and now im really tempted to pull for IL's lightcone cause the pity is really close

😭 nowi regret that aven is in phase 2

but at the same time i really cant because i need to use any spare (if i even have any spare if aven doesnt come home) for potentially sunday hsfuiedhseh

AAAA

[narwhalandchill]

(tw MoC 12 metachurl vent 💀 im Struggling)

discovering thru multiple showcases on YT that yanqing hypercarry w RM tingyun aventurine might in fact be just. Straight up better in terms of clear speed and/or consistency than jingliu for this MoC 12 second half and especially the turbulence this time around has me like. Side-eyeing my very recent lvl 20 E1 dude (got him from standard pity like a week ago and then aven 50-50 loss now) like . Perhaps ive judged you too harshly ...... jkjk

Unless? 🤔

i knowwww i could prolly just reset for enough tries to clear w either jingliu or some other setup (i do in fact have 2 clears that just Barely slipped into the 19th cycle by the end) but also its kinda just painful 😭 this MoC feels so bad without acheron or someone like argenti or even SW its unreal

like the amount of setups that just. Havent worked out for me At All is wild to me. first i had to largely give up on the idea of fx on 2nd half period bc the wombo combo of the ascended lady slapping ur entire team like a marastruck car saleswoman bc this bad boy can fit so many wind shears in it so ur taking all that chip dmg before u even make it to aventurine who will gleefully beat ur ass before i manage to clear is just. Not good. especially when jinglius already draining the teams hp 💀

luckily aventurine seems a better bet for 2nd half (50% eff res might not be foolproof against CC but it actually blocks the wind shears p nicely) but theres a Big issue w trying to bring him in a jingliu team called "area woman takes 3 consecutive turns in a slow bronya setop on first cycle and expires own shield, is fully exposed to dmg for the enemys first actions" like. if she gets heavy targeted during that window its just so bad . the hp drain would already be a challenge but combined w that its just Not Good. Aventurines very strong for 2nd half outside of that tho (and v good at proccing the turbulence on either half obvi). Especially in teams of keel using supports bc u can lose a gambit and still have all ur 80-90 eff res shielded supports resist boss aventurines CC

in general the bosses are just way too fucking tanky meaning u Need to take advantage of the turbulence (attack 6 times before each cycle ends) for the dmg it deals but thats a Problem w my usual lineups and built units (lots of hypercarry teams and supports like RM sparkle TY that use ally targeting abilities so cant proc the turbulence stack consistently)

i think in terms of the 1st half i prolly have some more options left to explore to try to push a faster clear so theres more cycles left for 2nd but i shit you not the team thats worked the best so far has been. QQ. All these 5* carries and i had to fucking bring out QQ after so long to see results 💀💀💀 to be fair its a sparkle team so like. unsurprising that QQ shreds but its still finicky. in general the fastest clears have been between xueyi n QQ in more or less the same setups

2nd half is. An issue tho. im not gonna be cringe and say jingliu is like bad or unplayable there and cant clear bc she definitely can like shes e0s1 ffs and even my best attempts cut it very close and if i had a faster 1st half it wouldve cleared within 20 cycles. But what i will say is that she Does Not Feel Good there . obviously part of it is just my own fault bc i never rly committed to minmaxing her build the way ive done for most carries since shes so strong at baseline anyway. and thats showing in her clear time even with good supports. and then by not clearing aventurine fast enough even in hyper jingliu teams u get stuck w his gamba phase and then the supports not having a way to deal w the gambit becomes an issue and its just all cringe from there

also i just find the aventurine boss mechanics (and to an extent the meme dino too) very infuriatingly anti synergistic with the turbulence bc. if you proc the turbulence during his gambit on the dice its literally just fuck you all dmg gone like it doesnt even get you an extra roll . the dino at least isnt invulnerable at any point and its gimmick is more straightforward but it also takes v little dmg from the turbulence proc if not broken

another thing w jingliu is also abt the dice phases. like she also has such anti synergy w the gambit bc losing that uptime in her enhanced state just to roll the gambit (even if she usually wins) Isnt Nice bc thats dmg she could (and should) be doing to the boss instead 😭 like my jinglius somewhat unpolished build aside the base mechanics of the aventurine boss just arent a good match w her kit and teams imo. (cue the cursed yanqing consideration)

obviously jingliu isnt the only option for 2nd half like i did fiddle around w my decent ish e0s2 (s2... ThoseWhoKnow💀) clara build a bit and a team w her IS very very good at proccing the turbulence and synergistic with aventurine but at least in those attempts she was just lacking too much dmg when she wasnt getting counters and that delayed clearing the first 2 bosses in particular . I also did a shockingly close cut 19 cycles clear w a xueyi off element team of all things on 2nd half and QQ hyper on the other

but mannn. obviously i could just leave it be like its fine . u dont need to always 36* and this MoC is very clearly favoring units like acheron whomst i dont have and debuffer heavy teams like invested ratio SW whatevers. but a part of me just Rly wants to figure it out and work out a solution to it all

and the idea of that solution possibly involving building my yanqing since despite his shortcomings hes just unironically better in the kind of true ST content like the aventurine boss compared to jingliu now that a non gepard actually usable shielder exists. i mean. its just kinda funny .

Is it a good idea in terms of long term resource investment on an account? Dubious. Is it absolutely hilarious to possibly bench a jingliu for yanqing of all people just bc fuck this MoC in particular? Kinda yeah. For sure

...guess ill keep u guys updated 🤔

anyway TLDR this MoC is kinda agony im considering unwise building decisions just to get a funny clear out of it as opposed to being boring and just resetting until i manage a good clear since ive already gotten so close w my existing teams

[fipindustries]

Far away from everything

well, here we are at last.

i worked tirelessly as i read this story for 7 consecutive years every other month, going over it again and again, peering through its dense words and paragraphs, in order to share every thought i could muster about it as i read it because i knew my maind was probably not going to be able to observe it all in one grasp once i reached the end.

consequently i lavished praised over it, because this masterpiece is praise worthy. i concocted evermore exultant flattery, reaching paroxisms of fervent fanaticism scarcely seen outside of evangelist circles and fanfic spaces.

the result of this is that i might have ran out a bit of good things to say about this book and was left only with the things that i didnt like as much, which is a pity because is going to make it seem as if my final tally of this story is a negative one and it very much is not. you can pour all over the 14 pages in my blog under the almost nowhere tag, to see how highly i think of this work.

but, as ratleak dogmatizes, one must follow the straight and narrow path wherever it may take. so, with that said

the third section of this book is the weakest, im sad to say. you might have noticed if you follow my blog closely that as we neared the end i started to fall more and more behaind with the publication rythm of this story. you might have even noticed how long it took since it officially ended and the time i actually bothered to sit down and read it all.

i would say is too much of a good thing. that it hit the maximum it could reach in my scale of greateness and then after a while it became repetitive. i would go back to it every time and, oh surprise, here it is, the greatest work of fiction i've ever came across, still as great as ever.

rob said how he found the last section of this book the most tiresome to get through, how he had to push himself through a massive sense of anhedonia in order to get through it, how the only thing that motivated him was sheer responsability to his audience and his own desire to have a finished work. i was able to tell this.

the last section gets a bit repetitive and it drags. it became saturating in fact, emotions did not let go for 60k words, alarm bells and claxons constatly screaming "THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT MOMENT, THIS IS THE CLIMAX, THIS IS THE MOMENT EVERYTHING GOES DOWN" for the length of what would be a standard novel. it wears thin. i can only sit though so many scenes of Sylvester loosing all hope and doing some ultimate gesture of final doom and then grant or lucifer say something moving or touching or inspiring or naive and then sylvie whiplashes again into benevolent omnipotent mania.

i can read the word love only so many times before it kind of loses its impact a bit, before it starts to sound robotic and rote. i see, eleven, yeah you truly love everyone, i get it, and you too animals, and silvye too, anyone else feeling omnibenevolent today? please make a line so we can reach the ending in orderly fashion.

the stakes got a little lost for a while, and the scale and the mundanity under which this world operates felt flimsy. i dont want this to sound like the typical "aragorn's tax policy" critique but i was wondering a lot of the times "where do these people live? how do they get food? or supplies? does sylvie just wills it all from thin air? how is the world outside? where are the other humans? what are they doing? are there still cities out there? has there been disasters with all of humanity contained in crash pods somewhere in asia? what of the worlds infrastructure? its ecology? how much work are the shades doing or not doing as it were the case to maintain it all?"

it also felt all a bit too stagey, like the entire world was revolving around our small cast of characters in its own little stage and the rest of humanity and the shades and the everywhere heraver is loosely sketched out at best just so we know it exists but they are merely suggestions, just a nod to the idea that, yes there is a world outside of whatever the camera is immediatly watching, and there are people out there doing their own things. but in this it was rather similar to homestuck and i dont think im going to hold it too hard against it, even though it did bother me a bit in homestuck as well.

overall i would need to read some guide or some deconstruction or some analisis to fully appreaciate what really happened it the end, i think i managed to follow well enough to frankly it was a struggle at times and by the very end i was just nodding along in a "sure, whatever you say buddy" way just to get it over with.

many have said that, much like floornight is rob's evangelion and arguably northern caves is rob's house of leaves, this is definetly rob's homestuck and i guess it feels appropiate that it final stretch reflects hoemstuck's final stretch as well.

i would have liked a final epilogue where we get a well established final shot of our beloved characters doing their own thing for us to know that once this is done they will be fine enough. we sort of had that here but it sneaked up on me frankly. it was missing the classic nostalgebraist final chapter where its just dialog with no description where things take a more relaxed sensual tone and the atmosphere is that of an orgy about to begin or just having finished. (although such a thing might be redundant, one of these days im going to draft a graph depicting the insane polycule these people form, 27 sleeping with azad who slept with grant, who slept with cordelia who slept with 27, who slept with azad, who slept with 25, who slept with hector, and so on and so forth).

ultimatly these are all the kinds of things to be expected of a first draft, the masterpiece is still very much here, and regardless of what my opnions are on the final stretch, much like with worth the candle, everything that came before is made no less of a masterpiece for it.

this, out of everything ive read online, is the thing that i will move heaven and earth for in order to have a physical copy of, even if i have to print one myself.

still very much on the top 5 best books ive ever read in my entire life. still a show of what true great prose can be like, still the thing that did the things it did like no other thing did before. i can rest assured that in the oncoming years and i percolate more and more on it its flaws will receede into the realm of the irrelevant and its strengths will shine stronger than ever. cant wait to re read it all someday, this time all in one sitting.

a true 9/10

[upsidedowngrass]

Charlotte post NOW (/j only if u want!!)

AHHH charlotte jumpscare!!!!!!!

im not sure what SPECIFICALLY to post abt her bc this ask is a little vague, BUT i do think abt her a lot!!! tho i DO gotta think about her more, she is a WONDERFUL character

bc idk what specifically, my interpretation of her post canon and WHY (also under a readmore because WOW!! i had apparently a lot to say abt her):

i think!!! she is a LOT more mellow after she gets home. like in one 16 after shes respawned its like. she seems to be friendlier? which. i think has to do w like... i dont think she was a bad person really, and i dont think shed been acting Maliciously, but when it came to having friends i think it was really easier for her to genuinely take things as worst as they could be. we dont actually get much of her backstory, so its up to interpretation as to WHY, but i think she genuinely struggled with being distrustful of those close to her. she likes them, that much is clear, but trusting people is a whole other thing

but i think she really DID view her friends as pitying her. as not respecting her, even when they werent Being cruel. they were concerned for her safety, and how her recklessness was affecting her. and i think that can end up walking a line between pity and not wanting your friends to do things that are pretty unambiguously dangerous, and what was very standard friendship ended up feeling a lot MORE like they didnt respect her or her choices

and i think what changes this is that. she DID die. and i think that contextualized for her that her friends werent concerned because they thought she couldnt handle herself, but because they just Generally care abt her yknow? as fucked up as her dying is, i think it did ultimately make her realize that THIS is what her friends were worried about. they didnt want THIS to happen to her, and i think in an odd way? it kinda made her. idk understand? trust? the people around her more. like in a 'oh, people around me dont only care about me for selfish reasons, or cruel reasons. they care because they CARE' way

and i think that, and the fact that she says that shed been thinking about this a lot? i feel like it kinda all forced her to slow down and WANT to talk to the people around her. because shed been pushing them all away because what was the point in talking to them? and i think once she REALLY noticed how amelia was doing, after thinking so much about all this, it kinda MADE her want to amend things. or at the very least, to talk to people more. shes isolated herself long enough, and its now more than ever that she realizes how much others meant to her in the first place.

(i think in some aspects, amelias method of coping also bothered her. amelias coping mechanisms werent necessarily BAD, theyre not good by real-world standards, but given the situation shes in, it was just... once of the few ways she COULD cope. but i think the flaws in this method of coping really came through once airy came back, because in forgetting everything about who she used to be, earth became a very daunting place, but now that airys back, any amount of feeling like home the plane may have unfortunately gained was completely undone. and i think charlotte actually SEES that, and its not the exact same as her own struggles, but i think she WANTS to help amelia, because she of all people knows how the feeling of being isolated, either on purpose or accident, can feel Extremely Awful. that, and she knew amelia before things on the plane got REALLY bad, and she SAW (since ive seen people note that she!!! was watching amelia do yoga w the others) amelia gradually give up, become comfortable, and then LOSE all of that

and i think, at least right before bryce showed up, it felt fucked up that charlotte WAS the only other person from the same world as amelia and theyd!!! never even spoken about it??? (like how she comments that they NEVER told each other their names. which only applies to her and amelia. that statement was intended very specifically towards amelia) and its like. i think it mightve made her a bit 'no WONDER shes not doing well. even if shes trying to act like she is' (which i dont even think amelia is doing to deflect so much as an attempt at 'if i pretend its ok it WILL be ok right?'))

and!!! once getting home i think this would all really lead her to be a bit more patient with others. i dont think the distrust would STOP being an issue, but i think such a terrible experience causing her to completely recontextualize the actions of those around her would actually help, at least a little . i dont actually know if i think shed stay friends w parker and that friend group, but i think theyd at the least keep in touch. parker clearly, even when they were arguing, STILL cared about her, and i think seeing her disappear probably was. a bit haunting, and so i think at the very least hed like to know shes Okay

also whenever people have the characters live together post canon, they only ever include bryce liam and amelia, and i GET why!!! charlotte didnt really interact w them for a looong time. but after charlotte is revived i actually see her as talking with them yknow? i dont think shed stop talking to them again, and i think her talking with amelia was a genuine attempt to help!! so i think theyd stick together. i dont imagine liam actually gets closer with any of the contestants while hes trying to send them home (tho i dont think it worsens substantially either. i think it just sorta. stays where it is? and if he did have notable interactions with any of them, itd PROBABLY be mainly w amelia and bryce, tho i dont think he DOESNT talk to charlotte too! he just has a diff sort of connection w those to, based on the experiences he Shared w them) so i think he isnt SUPER close w charlotte, but i think the others may become WAY closer w her!!! so i think if they all moved in together? that WOULD include charlotte!!! (that, and i think charlotte would also develop a sort of respect for liam . because he kinda DOES display exactly the type of traits she didnt really see people as having!!! going to EXTREME lengths to help people, including HER! so i think shed generally have many thoughts on him)

anyway !!! thats it the point is that as much as one would fuck charlotte up in her own way, i think, similar to how bryce tried to get his life together after he was first eliminated, shed similarly end up having a better ability to navigate social stuff in not such a pessimistic way as before!!!!!

[lnvxctus]

fuck it im writing this stupid rodney stuff thats been rolling around my head like a fucking pinball all day.

The former Lord Commander knew it was of little purpose to stray from his bed, given how shallow each rise and fall of his chest still felt and how he struggled to even keep water down without coughing it back up. How Hanna tolerated seeing him in this pitiful state was far beyond his compression. The fires of Phoenix- nay the second strange Eikon had burned him to his very core, his legs and torso still as deep a red as the very standard of Rosaria itself. And yet, he pushed himself up from his bed and slowly moved towards a chest in the corner.

It had grown covered in dust over the years, untouched and had the circumstances been aught else he would have been happy to leave it that way. The lid was knocked open with a swift movement of his leg, revealing within a set of Elwin's clothes that he had left during one of his final visits to the mansion. He sighed, kneeling down to remove it and bring it close to himself. His fingers ran over the fabric, hands clutching it as if the very winds would sweep into the room and take it away never to be seen again. "My Lord... just what happened to you?" Rodney frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he fought back a wave of emotion.

Just what had happened that night at Phoenix Gate, and where was Elwin if still alive? He hated himself, wished that the ground would swallow him where he stood if it just meant that Elwin was alive somewhere. He knew that the word was none of the Rosfield's survived, but he also knew that the same word had claimed his own death as well. He decided to not believe it, anything was better than failing his dearest friend. Even if he did swear that he saw the man beheaded before his very eyes, he hoped with every fiber of his being that it was simply wrong. He could not bear to think otherwise, the fact alone that he had lost contact entirely with Elwin made his heart sink into his stomach.

Tears stung at the man's eyes as he placed the outfit back where it had laid moments prior. "Phoenix itself help me, I will find you again Elwin. I do not care if this world swallowed you I will dive into the depths and climb into the skies themselves until I can assure your safety once more." He had sworn himself to Elwin in their youth, and such was not a promise he would even consider breaking for a moment. Well, at least as soon as Hanna would agree anyhow.

[eldritchmochi]

[image id: tags by @apocketfullofhobbits that read: ngl 'how do you spend your time' feels as intrusive to me as 'what do you do for a living', and it doesn't translate well to my language, idk i just hate being perceived at all and i hate putting others on the spot too, if someone doesn't volunteer information themselves then i guess I'll just never know. and I'm okay with that /end id]

i think this may be related to the point of the article (and the book referenced)! where the article and book discuss (english based, US-centered) race and therefore class power dynamics in the way small talk operates, i feel its not too much of a stretch to apply the same general theory to other forms of culture clash, whether that be across languages and therefore non-usian (white, cishet, christian, middle class) standards or like neurospiceyness or even things like age, queerness, or manner of upbringing

(pls note i know nothing, i just like trying to connect dots based off info i have magpied)

the thing that comes first to mind is the thing disney parks do where they train all their staff to gesture a specific way instead of pointing with their index finger, as is common in the us, because in other parts of the world that is a rude gesture. there are tons and tons of things like that, stuff thats completely benign in one culture that comes across fine in a different culture but incredibly foul in another, and half the time theres no telling what faux pas youll make in a multi cultural environment until you fuck up, as the article writer expresses

im autistic. i don't do small talk. i understand the point of it and have several fairly good scripts for when i have my Customer Service Voice in place, but i flounder when faced with "normal conversation" to the point where i assembled notes on reasonable human conversation topics ahead of meeting my (very normal, reasonable) boyfriends family. i dont do small talk because it feels very stiff from me, and i am *very bad* at following the conventionally appropriate scripts expected from small talk (ie the "how are you?" "good" exchange; im disabled. i walk with a cane. i come equipped with a bag full of pills at all times. i clearly cannot say that im "good" because that feels like a lie but people somehow hate "tired"???)

because im autistic, in situations where i dont have to Perform Peoplehood as the other party expects, i can sit and lecture about all sorts of things basically endlessly. however, because i had an absolutely shit upbringing and a lot of very bad health issues, i tend to be very selective about personal anecdotes because i hate even the potential of being pitied. in turn, like in pocket's tags, i tend to operate under the idea that people will tell me what they are comfortable sharing, and if they dont volunteer it, its none of my business, because thats how i operate myself

this is definitely true, but there are two catches: one) it is not universally true, and two) when it is true, you still have to make space for the other party to share stuff

there are definitely people who are bothered by conversations that lack "small talk" or otherwise people asking them personal questions. this is especially true in the us i would wager, given the sheer level of cultural individualism that goes on, wherein generally folks operate under the conditions that its rude to relate to someone via sharing a same-but-different personal anecdote, but also the-general-we dont know how to have a conversation that doesnt hinge on the self. if you dont ask these people the direct personal questions they require to feel involved in conversation, those relationships will hmm, struggle (i have not figured out how to manage this tho)

conversely, for folks who are more private, those relationships can feel superficial if theres not space and care left for them to open up. my bf and my gf are both very private and dont really offer up personal information unless ur really really close. being the Science Minded and also very direct person i am, when i realized my crush on my boy, i established very explicitly that he could say no to anything i asked of him and accepted his "no"s immediately when they came up. i did this very deliberately because i am very direct and "nosey", and wanted him to be comfortable telling me to mind my business if i poked where he didnt want

and it worked. the questions i tend to ask to learn about who someone is are pretty out there compared to standard small talk, so i wager they fall under the idea of "signifying" -- things like asking the best gift theyve gotten and best theyve given tell me what they value for themselves, and how they understand and relate to the people in their lives -- but while theyre direct and quite deep, theyre pretty open ended so the person i ask can give whatever kind of answer in whatever detail they're comfy with, and i still get good return as far as understanding who they are as a person, aaaaand in at least a couple instances, that space of positive acceptance of setting boundaries combined with a clear interest in Knowing Someone has lead private people to offer up things of their lives without prompting

so, it boils down to an awareness of different communication styles across cultural lines especially, whatever those cultures' lines ARE, and a willingness to meet people in the middle to make space for them to share their life and interests in a way that is more equitable than standard small talk tends to be, with whatever sort of open ended question makes sense for your situation

Unlearning How White People Ask Personal Questions

http://www.samefacts.com/2014/05/culture-and-civil-society/unlearning-how-white-people-ask-personal-questions/

[angelismmm]

Yooo

I just did 30 pulls (3 pulls of 10 wishes) and..

1st pull: 4* sword

2nd pull: Kaveh, Fischl

3rd pull: Baizhu, Candace and bow!

I’m so fucking happy!

You brought me such good luck!

🍀😍🍀

Hope your pulls went just as well!

- 🐈

im so happy for u that urs went well bro!! but not for me no. i was close to pity on standard banner in hsr and i got clara's card thing instead of a character, and i cant even user her card on anyone bc i dont have arlan and i dont have clara. my genshin pulls went something like i did 3 single pulls, got ganyu, then saved up stuff from comms, claimed old code rewards, finished abyss, all that good stuff for about 2.6k primos i think, i did end up getting baizhu and ganyu plus aquila favonia, but i barely play genshin so i dont realy care much anymore HLEP

[hangovercurse]

Crash Into Me

You’d been MGK’s assistant for years, but you never thought you had a chance at anything more with him until one stoplight changes everything.

Request: “ok im so sorry if this is 2 specific but ive had this idea for ages abt pining!colson x an insecure/clueless!reader who has been his assistant forever. she gets into a car accident and calls him hours later to tell him that a temp will be taking her place for a few weeks (bc of injuries) and he's like ?? why?? she explains nonchalantly, then kells kinda freaks out and shows up at the hospital all worried”

Colson Baker X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, car accident (descriptive)

A/N: This was cute 😊

Word Count: 3185

“Alright Kells, I’m out for the night. I’ll email those tracks to the board when I get home and I’ll let you know if I get any updates for tomorrow’s press.” You told the blond man who was sitting on the couch as you put your laptop into your bag. You tried not to yawn as you heaved it over your shoulder, “anything else?”

You glanced at the kitchen clock that read 2 am and let out a small sigh. You were used to late nights given your job as assistant to a rockstar, but most nights you were able to leave before 8 pm. Tonight you and Colson had gotten really invested in the tracks you were editing and lost track of time.

“Y/N,” he turned to look at you with puppy dog eyes. He wanted something that you really weren’t gonna want to give him. “Could you come over early tomorrow to help me pick out what to wear for the Vanity Fair interview?”

You chuckled, “you know they have their own wardrobe department?”

He sighed, “yeah but you know me so much better than all those stylists. I trust your opinion more.”

You rolled your eyes as he tilted his head, begging you. “Fine, but I’m buying us coffee with your credit card.”

He broke out into a smile, “thank you, love you!” He called as you walked towards his front door.

“Whatever, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You told him, taking your car keys into your hands, and stepping out into the LA night. There was a soft breeze that shook the trees slightly, making you smile. It felt nice outside for the first time in a while.

Because of this, you decided to drive home with your windows rolled down, letting the wind flow through your hair. The roads were pretty barren by LA standards, so traffic was pretty much non-existent. You were sitting at a red light, your fingers tapping against your steering wheel as one of Colson’s songs played through your speakers softly.

You reached to turn up the volume as the light turned green. You pressed the gas, your car moving forward into the intersection. Suddenly you heard a loud squeal of brakes, looking over to your passenger window to the sight of two headlights barreling towards you. You tried to speed up to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The truck rammed straight into the side of your small car, pushing your vehicle over into the car next to you. You put your left arm up to shield you from any flying debris, but it was futile. The infrastructure of your car fell apart at the force, the dashboard collapsing onto your right leg. Luckily, your left leg managed to avoid the destruction.

You could barely feel the force of the whiplash due to the pain in your abdomen at the deployment of the airbag. Glass from the car next to you fell into your car through your open window, cutting into your skin.

And then all of a sudden, everything stopped. The truck that had hit you had stopped moving, allowing you to fully assess the damage. Your car was totaled for sure, and your leg was definitely crushed. You cried out in pain, breathing heavy and trying to see straight. You could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, giving you some sense of relief.

When the paramedics got to the scene, you were the last passenger to be taken out of the crash due to your car being in the center. A firefighter had to break the glass of your windshield, which was already cracked, in order to pull you out. When you told him your leg was stuck under the dashboard, he sent a team of men to lift it from your foot and another to pull you out of the wreckage.

They were all amazed you were still conscious but got very worried when you told them you couldn’t feel the pain in your leg. You rode in an ambulance to the hospital, the EMTs helping pick the glass from your skin and assessing your injuries. You made jokes with them to calm yourself down, something that you did with Colson and Rook whenever they got into accidents while you were out with them.

You thought about giving them Colson’s name when they asked about your emergency contact but decided against it. You didn’t want to worry him until absolutely necessary. You figured you’d see what the doctor had to say and if you wouldn’t be able to come back to work, then you would tell him.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the doctor said. In fact, you wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital for at least a week due to your shattered leg, bruised abdomen, and concussion.

The leg would require at least 2 if not more surgeries to repair and you would be on close watch for development of a more serious brain injury. After that you most likely wouldn’t be able to be back on your feet for another 8 to 12 weeks, which was kind of a requirement for your job.

It was almost 5am, so you weren’t necessarily thinking straight when you called Colson from your cracked phone. He answered, his voice conveying how tired he was. “Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Hey Kells, I’m not gonna be able to come in early tomorrow, or at all. I’m gonna start looking for a temporary replacement tomorrow if I’m feeling up to it. Oh! And I couldn’t send those tracks to the board, sorry.” You told him, only half registering the words you were saying.

The confusion was evident in his voice, “what? Why do you need to find a replacement?”

You realized you had forgotten to tell him what happened. “Oh, yeah! It’s kind of funny.” You started, chuckling but then realizing that laughing made your stomach hurt even more. “And by funny, I mean not funny at all. I got into a car accident. Some dude ran into my car in an intersection and now I’m in the hospital.”  

“Which hospital?” Colson asked, suddenly much more awake.

“Hollywood Presbyterian.” You told him, “why?”

He sounded like he was rushing around, which he was. “I’m coming to see you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “why? I’m fine, you don’t need to do that. You have a big interview tomorrow, you should sleep.”

Colson sighed, “fuck the interview, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Colson you don’t-“ You started, but he hung up before you could tell him not to come.

Why was he rushing to see you in the hospital? Sure, you were friends, but he had much more important things to worry about right now. And besides, you were more casual work friends. He wouldn’t even know you existed if you didn’t work for him. Sure, you had a huge crush on him, but he was your boss, you were just someone he asked to do things he didn’t want to do.

 20 minutes later Colson ran into the hospital room, stopping when he saw you in the bed. Your face was red from chemical burn and a few cuts of glass. Your right leg was propped up with basic bandaging around it. His heart broke at the thought of how much pain you had probably been in.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, moving to sit in the chair on your left side.

You shrugged, “I’ve been better.”

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He asked, eyes full of pity.

“I didn’t want to bother you unless it was serious. Figured I’d find out if I would have to miss work before telling you.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut as a headache washed over you.

Colson’s mouth gaped open, “you didn’t want to bother me? You got in a car crash and you weren’t gonna call me unless you would have to miss work?”

You shrugged again, “yeah. If my laptop wasn’t completely crushed in the accident I would’ve just found and sent a temp in tomorrow, but obviously that’s impossible.”

“Y/N you’re kidding me, right?” He asked, exasperated. You furrowed your eyebrows in response, causing a sigh to fall from his lips. “Y/N I don’t give a shit about a temp; I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine. A little shaken and these headaches are killer, but they gave me a lot of pain medication so, I’m fine.” You smiled at him, your thoughts racing as you tried to figure out why he cared so much about how you were feeling.

He nodded, hand reaching out and landing on top of yours gently. “So, do they have to do surgery? What all did the doctors say?” He asked, worry in his eyes.

You nodded, “yeah, at least 2 surgeries. One around 11 am and then depending on how that one goes they’ll schedule the next. And they have to watch me to make sure my concussion doesn’t get worse.”

He pulled out his phone, typing away. “What are you doing?” You asked, suddenly feeling very tired.

“I just emailed the PR liaison for Vanity Fair and told them I wouldn’t be able to make it to the interview.” He responded.

“Why did you do that?” You asked through a yawn.

He looked at you like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, “because I have to be with you right now.”

You were very confused as to why he thought he had to be here. “Colson, I’ll be fine. You should go to the interview. You don’t have to stay here.”

“I do have to be here. I want to be here.” He said, sternly.

“Why?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes open.

“Because I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’ll just call you after the surgery, it’s no big deal.” You responded lazily.

He shook his head, “I want to stay here with you, Y/N. Okay? I care about you.”

You were too tired to process what he was saying at this point, so you just let out a hum. “I need to make sure you’re okay. I need to see you being okay. When you called me, I swear I was gonna have a heart attack if I didn’t see you.” He continued.

You were barely awake at this point, letting out a simple, “I’m okay” before slipping into unconsciousness.

 Suddenly you were back in your car, “Bloody Valentine” playing from your speakers. The sky was dark green, almost like a painting. In front of you, the red light turned green. Like clockwork, you pressed the gas, moving into the intersection. Suddenly, the lights disappeared, and you heard the familiar chilling sound of breaks squealing. You looked over and saw those headlights coming towards you, getting closer and closer, brighter, and brighter.

You screamed at the sight, the familiar paralyzing fear coursing through your body again. “Y/N!” Your name played through the radio. That’s not in the song, you thought. “Y/N!” Colson’s voice rang out again before the truck made contact with your car.

You woke up in a cold sweat to Colson standing over you, hands shaking your shoulders lightly. “Y/N.” He said, relieved when your eyes began to open.

Your entire body was shaking like a poodle and your arms subconsciously reached for Colson, hanging onto his shirt for dear life. “It was just a dream.” He whispered as your eyes darted around the room. “You’re okay.” He reassured you.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, hands leaving the fabric and moving to cover up your face. “I’m sorry.”

Colson sat on the bed next to you, legs hanging off the side as he stroked your face gently. “It’s okay, baby.” He turned to the nurse who opened the door, a worried expression on her face. He shook his head at her, “sorry, she just had a nightmare. She’s okay.” The nurse nodded but stayed in the room anyways, checking your vitals.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled again, the words seeming to be the only thing you could say.

Colson shook his head, “stop saying that, it’s okay.” You pouted at him, trying to scoot over so he would lay down next to you, but it was way too painful. “What are you doin?” He asked, a smile on his face.

You sighed, “wanted you to sit next to me but I can’t move because of this stupid leg.” You motioned to the leg in question.

Colson chuckled, “I can sit next to you in the chair.”

“That didn’t work last time.” You whined.

He looked at you with an expression that was both amused and confused. You were definitely still high on pain medication. “What didn’t work.”

“It didn’t stop the nightmare.” You frowned, hand reaching for his. He chuckled, standing up fully and looking at the nurse.

She flashed him an amused smile, “If you want, we can try to move her. I don’t know how much we can do without hurting her ribs, though.”

Colson nodded with a gracious smile, “hear that? We can’t move you because of your ribs.”

You glared at him, “I may be very high right now, but I’m not that high.” You said, making him giggle. “She said you could try.”

Colson let out an exasperated sigh, one arm going under your back and the other under your left leg. “Is this what it’s like taking care of me all the time?” He asked and you nodded your head firmly.

“Yep. Except I am much smaller than you, so you have less work to do with me.” You smiled as he lifted you off the bed, which quickly turned into a grimace. “Ow!” You yelped and Colson quickly set you down, slightly closer to the right side of the bed.

“Fuck, sorry princess. Are you okay?” He asked, voice soft.

You nodded, sucking in your bottom lip to block the whimpers of pain that threatened to escape your mouth. “You probably don’t remember, but one time you were so crossed that you called me to pick you up from a party. But you couldn’t make it out of the car, so I had to carry you into your house. And then you demanded to sleep in your own room, so you made me drag you up the stairs instead of passing out on the couch like normal.”

Colson let out a breathy chuckle, glad you weren’t hurt too much. He carefully sat onto the cot next to you, pulling up his right leg to sit on the bed. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him slightly. You shifted so that you were comfortable, left hand finding his own left hand and holding it. He brought his left leg up onto the bed so he was fully laying with you.

Your head rest on his chest, a soft smile on your face as his thumb rubbed circles on your hand. The nurse left, satisfied that you wouldn’t hurt yourself further. Colson pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“What time is it?” You asked him, to which he responded by pulling out his phone and showing you the lock screen. 8:47am. You nodded, a frown on your face, “did you get any sleep?” You asked him softly.

“I’m fine, I was asleep for a few hours before you called me.”

You sighed, feeling guilty. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

You felt him shake his head from behind you, “I’m staying right here.”

Despite wanting to force him to go home, you couldn’t help the happiness you felt at his stubbornness to stay with you. “You know you don’t need to be here. I won’t be offended if you leave.”

He chuckled, “stop trying to get me to leave. I’m here. On my own accord, okay? I’m gonna take care of you.”

You paused, thinking about the word floating around your head. “Why?” you whispered.

Colson’s face scrunched in confusion, “what do you mean “why”? Because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

“I mean, yeah. But I’m not like a “drop everything” kind of friend, I’m just your assistant.” You muttered.

Colson made an “are-you-serious?” face and let out a snort. “Seriously? You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You mean the world to me, of course I’d drop everything for you.”

You couldn’t think of a response, his words making your heart race. “oh.” Was the best you could come up with.

“Y/N, seriously, you think way too low of yourself. You’re amazing.” He said, nose burying into your hair.

You shrugged, “you only say that because I take care of you when you’re drunk and help you do all the things you don’t want to do.”

Colson’s expression softened, a frown forming on his face. “I’m saying that because I think the world of you. You’re the kindest, funniest, coolest person I know. I meant it, when you told me you were in the hospital, my heart almost stopped. I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about you being hurt.” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I wish you could see how much you mean to me.” He mumbled.

You were quiet for a little while, processing what he had said. “You’re only saying that because I’m in the hospital.” You muttered, a frown on your face. You were trying to keep your hopes low, knowing once you were out of here, he would regret saying any of this.

“Y/N, are you being serious right now? I’m saying this because I’ve been fucking in love with you for the past year and a half.” He said and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

You bit your lip, turning to look up to him. “I just- I didn’t want- you wouldn’t.” You stumbled over your words, taking a deep breath, and starting again. “I didn’t want to read too much into it or get my hopes up. I figured you’d never be into someone like me so I just told myself you were being nice. I thought you only treated me well because I worked for you.” You mumbled.

He frowned, holding you tighter to him, “I am so, so into you. You are the only woman in my life who has ever stuck by me through my worst shit. Like even when I was a total jackass you stayed with me. How could I not fall in love with you?”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to spill at his sweet sentiment. You’d never had anyone say something that kind about you. You’d always assumed people only kept you around because you did stuff for them, but here was the man you were in love with telling you that he cared about you for you.

“I love you too.” You whispered, leaning your head further into his chest.

[toutallyahoe]

Hey, just asking. Will you do an alternative part for the.. percy x male reader, battle of hogwarts? I'm eventually a sUckEr for aNgSt and when I say sUckEr for aNgSt I love crying my eyes out until.. next week, but me no have standards something sad makes me wanna mourn in my room. Take your time doe if you will do another part for it. WE LOVE YOU!

requested by: anon

pairing(s): percy weasely x male reader

warnings: cursing, character death, harry potter spoilers

a/n: asdfghjkl im so sorry for taking so long to write this! i am currently having some issues here and there atm but here it is now!

and lmaoooo im a sucker for angst (whether reading it or writing it) and i just am so happy someone actually wants the alternative part of my percy hcs afajdhsjdbjsd as much as i love this boi, this has too much angst potential yall

anyways, on to the angst! also, ily TwT <333

percy was trying to find you, [name]

it was already the end of the hogwarts battle and he was frantically looking all over for you when he finished checking up on fred and making sure his dumb brother was still alive (fred was and even joked that percy finally lost his uptight attitude on that joke)

fear still crept into percy's system as he looked around the area and trying to ask people where [name] was

and the fear had gotten more and more as minutes passed by when percy asked where you, [name], were and only gotten sad shakes of head and getting told they didnt know where you are

percy still had hope though

even if the fear and dread settling into him, percy still believe you are alive

you have to be

all that hope went down the drain when percy gotten the new by another wizard that [name] didnt made it

percy wouldn't believe it

he wont fucking believe it

percy would call that wizard a liar and would frantically run around the whole battle in search for [name]

screaming loudly on where the fuck is he and that the battle was over

people who witnessed percy could only look in pity, especially the ones who saw [name]'s end

it took a few wizard for percy to get a hold of him to then bring percy to where [name] was

percy was in shock and was ready to collapse when he saw the familiar clothes [name] wore before the battle

percy had immediately got out of the wizard's grips to run over towards [name]'s body. screaming and yelling that this wasnt suppose to happen

percy still hope this was just a random wizard with the similar fashion sense and maybe looks to his fiancé although it sound so wrong

but percy didnt care because he just want [name] alive

but seeing the familiar tuff of [hair color] hair in a mess, the bloodied and bruised [skin color] skin and those [eye color] eyes that always looked into percy and knew that they understand him was dulled and lifeless

percy knew this was [name]

his [name]

his fucking fiancé who is dead

percy wasted no time to embrace [name]'s body as he screamed and cried

percy was in hysterics as he screamed for his fiancé to wake up

"no— no, no, no!!! dont do this to me [last name]! wake up! please wake up!"

percy was in denial as he cried

he wont believe it

he wont ever fucking believe it

percy would yell about their promise to each other before the war had even started

hell, before they were even dragged into this and was just oblivious to everything in the world

"you promised you stupid git! you promised we'll survive this! you promised!!!"

"you said you wont leave me! please! dont fucking do this to me [name]! please..."

percy only cried and cried as he wished for his fiancé, the man he was supposed to marry after the war, the man who promised to always be by his side, his [name] was gone

as percy cried with [name] still in his arms, the weasleys found percy and [name] and it was a saddening sight

molly let out a gasp as she immediately hid her face on arthur's chest as she couldnt bare to see the sight of her son heartbroken and also seeing [name], her soon to be son-in-law dead

arthur immediately consoled molly as he tries to keep the tears in check on his son's grief

both fred and george stood frozen in shock as this was the first time they saw percy cry and seeing [name]'s corpse, the twins felt the grief

both bill and charlie were in the same fate as the twins as they looked sadly at their younger brother and the tragedy that happened

ron and ginny were in tears, especially ginny who was excited to have [name] as a family

[name] was so close to the weasleys and his untimely death caused so much grief for them

the other wizards who witnessed the tragedy could only look down and respect the lost of many lives in the war

the weasleys consoled percy as best as they can despite their own grief

percy wouldnt let go of [name]'s body and would go in hysterics if anyone tried to separate him from [name]

percy would still be in denial as he sobs about [name] supposed to marry him weakly

"you promised... you promised we'll be together you stupid git... please... please dont do this to me..."

[name] died protecting a fellow wizard, cursing a death eater but was unfortunately hit with the death curse that took his life away

[name]'s last thought before the curse hit him was percy and his promise

[name]'s promise before the war on being with percy's side until the end and marrying the ginger was never fulfilled

"im sorry... percy..."

[hematomes]

so you're my poor little meow meow?! my pathetic little man? my good little boy? aww you're such a sweetheart <33

i-im making you question your sexuality🥺hehe im blushing thank u👉🏽👈🏽 (>is so evil about it)

but naos my hair SUCKS the colour has faded completely and i wanna dye it so baaaaddd but last time i went to the hairdresser i explained my hair plans for summer & she was like ".... yeah.... maybe. maybe Don't dye your hair in the meantime. if you wanna have enough hair to do That." so I've been thinking of dyeing it anyway but actually june is so close now & blue would be a bitch to remove, box dyes are a no-no, and any semi-permanent dye that isn't blue lasts for like 1,5 weeks max. so im just gonna suffer

jdjd sorry for the hair rant CONGRATS ON YOUR DILUC! bitch boy finally decided to come to you this is a pretty big deal naos you've been pss pssing him for a year!! i actually got ayaka last week i love her seiyuu so much<33 only thing is i was saving for kazuha but that trailer got me (curse you hoyoverse marketing ploys) i just hope he decides to be good to me. he's literally my lockscreen cmon kazuha

ooh hope you have fun on tuesday! and good luck on that exam! what subject is it?

my alcohol resistance is a fluid thing i think. it depends on things such as the weather, the humidity, the direction of the wind & how insane I've been feeling lately (a lot).

thanks!!! (for the grade) not to switch our roles but i could do with a congratulatory head pat rn:( people need to tell me im doing a good job more often im starved!!!!!!

anyway. im manifesting productivity today for the both of us.

LMAO i can if u want but you're gonna have to share, love

abdjz listen my knowledge in straight/wavy/etc hair is abysmal, but it still looks pretty imo. take care of it for the summer tho <3

he did!! and he was so good abt it. came on soft pity, on the standard banner, like the goodest little boy. immediately rewarded him w the wolf gravestone (sorry xinyan, if i manage to get another one ill give it to u i promise). kinda regret ascending hu tao to lv.90 & crowning her skill like 2 days ago tho, she made me broke in both exp books and mora

AND CONGRATS ON AYAKA she's so good... her jp voice aaa <3 kazuha should come in 2.8, if all goes well you'll be fine dw

it's an essay on foreign literature, im not exactly confident bc im the worst with essays but hopefully it won't be too bad. heard the professor might only use our 2 best grades for the total tho, so maybe ill be fine even if i fuck this one up

im headpatting you rn, you really did great and worked hard <3 im proud of you little soup

hoping the manifesting works zvwjs i don't rly have a choice anyway bc i don't want to speedrun it tmrw so!! but good luck sweets

[artificialqueens]

Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me, 1/10 (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42

A/N: Hi all!! I saw an infographic a while back of 10 types of orgasms people with vaginas can have, and got inspired to write this! I don't remember where the infographic was from (in my infinite wisdom, I took screenshots of the infographic, but not of the source lmao), but I hope you enjoy this!

PLEASE DON'T TAKE THIS AS EDUCATIONAL OR INFORMATIONAL!!!! THIS FIC IS ESSENTIALLY PORN. PORN IS NOT EDUCATIONAL, AND NEITHER IS THIS FIC!!! If you're looking for reliable sex ed info, check out scarleteen, they're a great resource!

Title from Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Thank you x10000 Holtz for dealing with my dumb ass while I was writing this and for beta-ing <3

Denali misses Mik when he’s gone; both she and Rosé do. It’s hard not to, when their boyfriend has such a big presence in their lives all the time. Whether he’s starfishing on their bed and hogging all the covers in his sleep, chattering away to fill silence in the apartment, or just making his presence known by ruffling Denali’s hair as he walks by or tracing absent-minded hearts on Rosé’s arm while they’re piled on the couch to watch TV, Mik is a constant, someone who’s always at arm’s reach to enjoy. It’s comforting, something about him that neither Denali nor Rosé would ever want to change.

It’s a strange feeling when he’s away, one that neither of them particularly like. Like something is missing, something they can’t quite feel balanced without. Like the minute he leaves, they’re waiting for him to come back again.

It doesn’t help that Mik has been traveling so much for work lately. Fashion Week season has descended upon the world, and between New York and Paris and Toronto and Milan, Mik has been so busy that he hardly has time to pick up his phone. Add in time zone differences along with Denali and Rosé navigating their own busy schedules, and it might as well be a long distance relationship, one that is barely existent at this point. Denali knows it’s selfish to get upset about it; she still has Rosé, after all, so she can’t imagine how alone Mik must feel. But she can’t help it; the more Mik slips away, the more she wants him back, so bad that it hurts sometimes.

But there’s also a different kind of ache she and Rosé feel when Mik is away, one that may be a little superficial, sure, but is nonetheless one that Denali is particularly bad at leaving unattended. One that once again, she knows must be worse for Mik, seeing as he’s completely alone right now.

At least on the occasions that all three of them are free, it’s a lot easier to scratch that particular itch.

Michelada: guys im so horny

Denali rolls her eyes, shaking her head and laughing a little to herself as she reads her boyfriend’s message. He’s still in the UK right now, and if her math is correct, that means that it’s only around 1 PM where he is. As in, he’s probably still at work. When she says so, though, he seems unperturbed.

Michelada: hasn’t stopped you guys before

Michelada: sooooo

Michelada: sensing a double standard here

Denali hears Rosé cackle from the bathroom, and then her phone pings again.

Rosita: i mean

Rosita: im not opposed to shenanigans, you know that baby ;)

“Don’t encourage him!” Denali calls out, but of course Rosé doesn’t listen; she never does. The next text Denali gets is a picture of Rosé taken in the bathroom mirror, naked as the day she was born with an arm covering her tits.

God.

Michelada: ugh rosie don’t do this to me :((

Rosita: i thought u were horny, baby?

Rosita: gotta make up your mind xo

Another ping, and a second pic of Rosé comes through, this time biting down on one of her fingers through a devilish smirk. Denali shifts a little in her spot on the couch; as much as she doesn’t want to give in, it’s tantalizing, knowing that Rosé is just a word of permission away from being right next to her like that. And the fact that Mik could very well get caught, that they’ll be distracting him enough that he might falter, might give himself away?

Nali: i think it’s time you went on break, angel

She follows it up with a pic of her own, angling it so that both Mik and Rosé will be able to see right down her shirt. She hears a little gasp from the bathroom, and smiles to herself; Rosé is so easy, it’s almost funny. Both she and Mik are.

There’s a pause, and Denali almost wonders if Mik has been caught already, or if he’s changed his mind. She’s about to ask, but then the bathroom door opens, and she looks up to see Rosé coming towards her.

“Rosie…” she starts, but she doesn’t have time to get her full sentence out before there’s another ping.

Michelada: i have fifteen minutes

“Just enough time,” Rosé grins as she comes up behind Denali, drapes her arms over her shoulders and leans in to kiss the shell of her ear and letting out a little laugh when the sensation makes Denali squirm.

A call comes through not even a second later, and they’re greeted by the sight of Mik shut in a bathroom, cheeks already pink and pupils already dilated with lust.

“That was quick,” Denali smirks, but Mik doesn’t respond. One look behind herself, though, and Denali knows why.

“He’s only got fifteen minutes, D,” Rosé winks, clearly enjoying herself as she continues to play with her own tits, trailing her hands over them and palming them while grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Gotta maximize on that time, right?”

Well. She does have a point. And it’s not just Mik who’s mesmerized by the sight in front of him; watching Rosé continue to tease, still grinning cockily, is absolutely tantalizing, and Denali can’t help the sudden urge to touch her girlfriend that runs through her, making her shiver.

“Wanna touch, angel?” Rosé coos, taking her hands off herself long enough to grab Denali’s face, tilt her head up to look her in the eyes. “It’s okay--all you gotta do is say please.”

She swallows hard, mouth going dry as she nods, eyes trailing back down to Rosé’s bare tits. “Yeah. Yeah, I wanna… Please, Rosie, please can I touch you?”

“Of course you can.” Rosé purrs, coming around the couch slowly, teasingly, before coming right up to Denali, giving her a soft kiss as she throws a leg over Denali’s lap, easing down to straddle her.

“Hi, baby.”

There’s a whine behind them, one that jerks them out of the bubble Rosé has created, and Denali suddenly remembers Mik’s presence over the phone, that he’s watching everything going on.

“I think our sweet boy feels left out, Rosie.”

The remark is as much a taunt as it is a reminder, and Denali can’t help but peek over her shoulder to see how Mik is holding up. Sure enough, he’s already starting to come undone, cheeks flushed pink and mouth gaping open as he takes in what’s happening before him. His camera obscures what’s going on below his chest, but Denali knows Mik well enough to know from his stiff posture that he’s just waiting for permission to let go completely.

“Is that so?” Rosé turns to look over her shoulder, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Poor baby, can’t even be close to us while we have fun. I hope you’re not touching yourself just yet, angel—it’d be a shame to get this over with too quickly, don’t you think?”

Mik swallows hard, but shakes his head, sucking in a sharp breath that’s just audible enough to go straight to Denali’s core.

“No, mommy, I’m not.”

“Good boy,” Rosé purrs before turning back to the blonde she’s currently straddling, looking her up and down discerningly.

Not even a heartbeat later, she starts easing off Denali’s lap, clicking her tongue when Denali squirms at the loss, lifts her hands to try and stop Rosé from moving.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she grabs Denali’s hands, gently places them back onto her lap. “I’m just moving so Mik can get a better view. See?” She sits gently next to Denali, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Now, what d’you say we get you out of this pesky shirt, huh?”

Denali only nods, rushing to throw off her shirt as Rosé creeps her hands between Denali’s legs, lightly teasing her through her pajama pants.

“I’d suggest you start rubbing over your pants, baby boy.” Rosé throws the command back to Mik without even looking at him, too focused instead on increasing the pressure she’s placing on Denali’s pussy while bringing a free hand to her tits. Denali hisses in pleasure when Rosé’s fingers trace around a nipple, pinching lightly and watching with glee at how Denali’s hips buck at the feeling. Mik’s dissatisfied whines only spur Rosé on, though, and she ups the ante by leaning down to give Denali’s other nipple the attention of her tongue, sucking and nipping at the hardened bud.

“Rosie…” Denali gasps, only for the redhead to separate herself from Denali’s tit, coming up to lock eyes with her as she shakes her head.

“Look at Mik, sweetheart,” Rosé murmurs, her hands still moving, still working Denali up. “Look at what a mess he is watching you.”

Mik’s face is screwed up in frustration, pouting mouth trembling as his arm moves lightly, teasing at what’s going on out of the frame.

“What do you think, D, should we take pity on him?”

“Yes,” Denali answers without hesitation, closing her eyes in pleasure when her generosity is rewarded by Rosé finally slipping her hand below the waistband of Denali’s pajama pants, dragging light fingers along the blonde’s already-slick slit.

“You heard her, baby. You can touch yourself over your underwear now.”

“Thank you, mommy,” he gasps in relief, followed by a shaky breath when he dips his hand into his jeans.

“Don’t thank me, thank Denali,” Rosé simply shrugs. “Speaking of,” she turns her attention back to the blonde next to her, “How ‘bout we take things up a notch, huh?”

Denali doesn’t have time to ask what Rosé means before the older woman’s fingertips are making contact with her clit, tracing fast, yet light circles around it.

“Oh, fuck--”

“God, you have no idea how much this turns me on,” Rosé’s voice takes Denali’s breath away, low and husky in her ear as she continues to rub Denali’s clit. “Watching you and Mik like this, already such messes for me… fuck, makes me wet just listening to you whimper.”

“Why don’t you join us, then?” The idea clicks into Denali’s head instantly, and she has to admit, she loves the way Rosé’s eyes cloud over in confusion for a second, the redhead hesitating for a moment as she tries to figure out what Denali means. It’s the perfect opportunity for Denali to reclaim some power, grab Rosé’s hands and push her back to flip their positions so that Denali is straddling her.

“Mik, baby, you can play with yourself for real now,” she turns back to the camera and winks before wriggling out of her pajama pants, grabbing Rosé’s wrists and pinning them to her sides before closing the distance between them with a rough kiss. Behind them, Denali hears something close to a thank you from Mik, cut off by a strangled mewl that tells her he’s already close.

That’s okay; this shouldn’t take long.

Denali’s hips move naturally as they rut up against Rosé, their kiss deepening steadily as the two move in tandem against each other. Rosé traces her hands down over Denali’s back, down to her ass, and smirks against Denali’s tongue when the blonde moans at the touch. For her part, Denali isn’t exactly being gentle, either; while Rosé uses her grip on Denali’s ass to push her closer, force her to grind down harder, Denali snakes a hand into Rosé’s hair, tugging at the strands just to make her gasp.

“Love it when you make those sounds for me,” she breaks their kiss to suck a bruise onto the curve of Rosé’s neck, almost moaning herself from the way Rosé’s hips stutter at the taunt.

Behind her, Denali hears Mik curse from the phone, and she’s unable to resist looking back as she and Rosé continue to move against each other, their pace staying steady as Denali watches the sight on the other line.

Mik is a vision, one arm slightly out to capture the sight of his body as he gets himself off. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead, and his lip is swollen from the way he’s biting it, desperately trying not to make too much noise. His hand works patterns on himself that Denali knows well, ones she taught him, ones she experimented and trialled and perfected on his skin. Watching him now, Denali can’t help but speed up a little, a cue that both Rosé and Mik seem to take as they match her pace.

“ Fuck ,” Rosé hisses after Denali turns her attention towards her again, knowing that if she watches Mik any longer, she’s going to come right then and there; she doesn’t want that. She wants to come with Rosé and Mik both, all together.

Luckily, she knows exactly how to speed things up.

“What?” she coos, tracing a finger along Rosé’s cheek, trailing it along her jaw. “Are you close, Rosie? Gonna come for me and Mik already? Aww .”

Rosé nods, whimpering as Denali’s touch continues to travel over her body, down the line of her neck and then tracing along her collarbone.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Denali continues between gasping breaths, channeling every bit of focus she has to keep the ability to speak while keeping up with the rhythm of Rosé’s hips, now becoming erratic from desperation. “Always acting all big and bad, like you’ve got control, but you just need to be put in your place, don’t you?”

The moan Rosé lets out is positively sinful, and when Denali looks back at Mik, his face is so red, his hand moving so fast that Denali knows he’s about to explode.

Time to finish things off, then.

“I’m gonna count to ten, then you’ll get to come, okay?” Denali says it loud enough for Mik to hear, but she doesn’t wait for a response; she doesn’t have the patience to.

“One… two…”

When ‘ten’ finally leaves her lips, Denali lets go, crying out loud enough that she’s afraid someone in Mik’s studio might hear what’s going on through the bathroom door. But she can’t help it; Rosé continues to grind against Denali through both their orgasms, and by the time Denali comes down fully, she’s too tired to do anything but collapse next to the other woman, completely spent.

“Fuck, you guys,” Mik’s breathy drawl jerks them both back to reality, and Denali can’t help but smile when she sees what a state their boyfriend is in; his clothes are mussed and cheeks are flushed, and there’s a dot of blood on his mouth from where he must have bitten through his lip trying to keep himself quiet.

“All better now?” she teases, laughing when he rolls his eyes, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“I mean, I probably look like a mess, but yeah, I’m not horny anymore.”

“Give it five minutes,” Rosé mutters to Denali with a wry smile.

“Hey, I heard that!”

“Go and get cleaned up, babe.” Denali swats at Rosé as she addresses Mik, who’s busy pouting at them. “Call us when you’re done work, and have a good day, yeah?”

“Alright, bye gorge.” Mik sighs, and then just like that, the call is over, and Mik is gone again.

At least, mostly; not two seconds later, there’s another ping, and Denali checks her phone to see another message from Mik. More specifically, a picture of him in the mirror, still a mess, smiling and blowing them a kiss.

Michelada: gonna be thinking about u guys for the rest of the day

Michelada: love u sm <3

It’s not the same as having him next to her, not in the least. But as Denali stares at the picture, feels Rosé shuffle closer to look at it, too, it feels like enough.