#and like. it's not the first time I've heard this

[amirasainz]

hi! Could you maybe do something like reader is Lando's baby sister and it's her first time at a GP so he shows her off to all the drivers?

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl 🧡

Proud big brother

Lando was bouncing with excitement as he led his six-year-old sister, Y/N, through the paddock at the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was her first time attending a race weekend, and he was beyond thrilled to have her here. He'd been talking about it for weeks, sending her little videos of the track, the car, and the crowd. He’d told her everything he could think of to help her understand what a race weekend was like.

Today, though, seeing her tiny hand in his, wide-eyed with awe as she looked around, he felt a mix of pride and protectiveness. He was determined to make this the best day ever for her.

Lando grinned as they entered the McLaren garage, and his engineer shot him a look of amusement, clearly surprised to see him accompanied by someone so small.

“Y/N, meet the team!” Lando gestured with a grand sweep of his hand. “These guys keep my car fast and safe.”

Y/N looked around with big eyes, giving a shy wave, which earned a couple of chuckles from the engineers.

Just then, Lando spotted Carlos walking by, and his face lit up. “Oh! Y/N, you have to meet Carlos.” He crouched down beside her, whispering, “He used to be my teammate, and he's one of the nicest guys on the grid.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as Carlos approached, his expression softening immediately when he saw the young girl.

“Hola, Y/N!” Carlos crouched down to her level, extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Carlos. I've heard so much about you already, niña"

Y/N giggled and shook his hand with both of hers, looking up at Lando as if to say, isn’t he cool?

Lando chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You know, Carlos is really fast too, just like me.”

“Like a race car?” she asked, eyes widening as she looked back at Carlos.

Carlos laughed. “Exactly like a race car. Maybe even faster than Lando.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lando teased, giving Carlos a playful nudge.

As they chatted, the crowd around them started to notice the heartwarming scene. Cameras from media outlets and phones of fans began focusing on the Norris siblings. Lando noticed the flashing cameras and shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Y/N, who was too enthralled with Carlos’s explanation of “how to go fast” to notice.

Oscar walked over, intrigued by the gathering. “Who’s this?” he asked, bending down to give Y/N a warm smile.

Lando's eyes sparkled with pride. “This is my little sister, Y/N.”

Oscar’s face lit up as he crouched beside her. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Oscar.”

Y/N looked up at Oscar, studying his soft hair, and before anyone could say a word, she reached out and began gently petting his head as if he were a small animal. She tilted her head, seemingly fascinated by the texture.

Oscar froze for a second, clearly surprised, but then he let out a soft laugh. “Guess I have soft hair, huh?”

Carlos burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got some competition here, Lando. She’s already got a favorite driver.”

Lando’s face flushed, caught between amusement and a sudden urge to shield his sister from all the cameras and teasing.

“Y/N, don’t bother him too much,” he said gently, giving her a small, protective smile. “Oscar needs to save his energy for racing.”

Y/N giggled and looked back at Oscar, who just winked at her, clearly enjoying the attention. Lando could feel the eyes of the media zooming in on their little interaction, the moment drawing attention from fans and reporters alike.

Max strolled over, smirking when he saw the scene. “So, this is the famous Y/N I’ve heard so much about?”

Y/N looked up, wide-eyed. “You’re the one who’s always beating Lanno!” she said with innocent frankness, making all the drivers burst into laughter.

Lando groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Thanks, Y/N. I feel the love.”

Max chuckled, bending down so he was eye-level with her. “You know, it’s only because I have more experience,” he explained, trying to keep a straight face. "And because I'm just a bit better than he is right now," he teased gently.

Y/N tilted her head, looking from Max to Lando. “Will you beat him, Lanno?”

Lando nodded, trying to sound confident, though he was smiling at her earnest expression. “Of course I will, Y/N. I’m going to win a championship one day.”

Y/N’s face lit up with excitement, and she threw her arms around him. “You’re my favorite driver, Lanno!”

The other drivers couldn’t help but chuckle at the sweet interaction. Charles had joined the group by now, observing everything with an amused smile.

“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles teased, folding his arms. “Y/N’s loyalty clearly lies with you.”

“Yeah, for now,” Carlos chimed in, smirking as he watched her go back to petting Oscar’s hair. “But give her a couple more races with us, and she might just change her mind.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. He gently tugged Y/N’s hand, leading her away from Oscar. “Alright, alright, don’t get too comfortable with my teammates. You’re here to support me, remember?”

Y/N nodded, but her attention was soon stolen by a nearby display of miniature cars in the McLaren hospitality area. She tugged on Lando’s sleeve, pointing at them with wide, sparkling eyes.

“Oh! Look, Lanno! Tiny race cars!”

Lando chuckled, letting her excitement distract him from his nerves about the media coverage. “Want to pick one out? Maybe we can find one that looks like my car.”

As she eagerly examined the toy cars, the other drivers exchanged grins, clearly entertained by Lando’s newfound protective side.

“Just wait until she wants to attend all the races,” Charles teased, nudging Lando. “You’ll be too busy babysitting to focus.”

“Right, and she’ll be rooting for Oscar,” Max added, giving Lando a playful shove.

Lando gave them all a playful glare. “You all wish,” he shot back. “She’s my number one fan, right, Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, clutching a toy car that she’d chosen. “Yep! Lanno is the best driver in the world!”

All the drivers exchanged looks of amusement, sharing a laugh, but Lando’s expression softened as he glanced down at his little sister. She didn’t understand the rivalry, the pressure, or the spotlight. To her, he was simply her big brother.

And in that moment, as he held her hand and watched her excitement, he realized that he wouldn’t trade this for anything.

[hottakehoulihan]

So many of my bad-but-novel food experiences are because I was doing it wrong and didn't have guidance.

I've heard it asserted that in Japan, customers will sometimes ask the waiter "how should I eat this" (something that might get you insulted in the US) and get a sincere and useful answer that helps maximize their enjoyment.

It sounds fricking wonderful.

I don't know "baked ziti" and I'd probably just use this stuff as a replacement for lasagne noodles; it seems like it'd work quite well.

For bread cheese/Finnish "squeaky cheese" I went from thinking it was awful and pointless to loving it once I learned how you can cut it into cubes and dunk it in your hot black coffee for a while and then eat it when it's warm and a bit melty (and the coffee is good too! Just a bit of pleasant added flavor! An improvement on most coffee that isn't top-tier and not a downgrade ever.)

I have a bunch of examples but I also have work to do so I'll skip to the punchline:

The "doing it wrong" for balut was trying it for the first time while sober and unfamished.

Dan and I bought a thing called “long ziti” from the local Weird Bargain Store, largely as a joke, but…. I have never had a more unsettling pasta experience in my life. They wouldn’t bend enough to cook from top to bottom simultaneously, and while they were cooking boiling water kept spouting out from the tops of them out of the pot, like a boiling pipe organ. Then they were so long and floppy and hoselike that we couldn’t pick them up with anything other than tongs, and then they were so long and unwieldy that it was basically impossible to sauce them without them all slithering out of the bowl like wet snakes. They then proceeded to cool down almost completely within the the seconds it took to walk to the living room. Eating them was like eating a bowl full half melted drinking straws.

[galedekarios]

full credit for the video of this conversation goes to @/imgoinmental on x

if you turn emmrich into a lich, he cries alone in his room because he misses manfred:

davrin: emmrich. i think assan misses manfred i caught him in your room sniffing around, looking for him. emmrich: he's always in there searching for crumbs. davrin: no, he was whimpering. sad. emmrich: poor thing. davrin: when i was there looking for him... thought i heard someone else crying, too. emmrich: ah. davrin: i miss him, too. don't know what i'd do if i lost assan.

i want to gather my own thoughts here, too, a bit because this made me think more about The Decision(tm) and it's a heavy one: emmrich's entire life's work and his own fear of dying being put behind him (although not ever acknowledged or dealt with in a healthy manner) vs bringing back a companion, whom he had loved as a son and who gave his life for him.

personally, i think this, coupled with the reaction to rook's possible death in the final fight or even in the far away future as evidenced by the argument they have prior (both on the human and on the lich path, though i am only showing the lich path here as it is relevant to the discussion):

emmrich: i can see the life course through you, my love. like a thread of diamond flame. yet... emmrich: i will lose you to time, rook. what if i can't bear that for eternity? rook: that's the most romantic thing i've ever heard. emmrich: what? rook: remembering me forever? emmrich: i'm afraid i'll mourn you forever. rook: that's ridiculous. emmrich: do you think so little of what i feel for you? rook: no! emmrich: then you could act accordingly.

i also always think about this line by emmrich's parents' graves:

emmrich: lately, i've wondered what they'd think of our current course. the choices ahead. rook: your lichdom? emmrich: what would they have wanted me to be? rook: [option: never lonely/locks in romance]: happy with someone that cares for you.

the very first condition is that he must be able to let others go. he’s not nonchalant about his own death, not about manfred's, and not about rook's. he doesn't want to be alone.

i think in conclusion for myself, i came away from all of this very much believing that emmrich is not built for what lichdom requires of him and entails over the many, many centuries to come.

i wish the game offered more romance / character scenes to actually meaningfully address and discuss not only the argument with emmrich, but also his fear of dying.

(disclaimer: i want to clarify that these are just my own personaly thoughts. choosing lichdom is a valid path, depending on how you rp your rook, your backbackground and how you engage with emmrich. i am only looking at this through the lens of myself experiencing the game and emmrich's character.)

[smarteoasis]

❀ new things - nishimura riki

warnings : pussy eating, cussing, inexperienced riki, over stimulation

wc : 914

“i've never eaten out a girl before.” as those words leave your best friends mouth, you stiffle a laugh. “seriously? how's that possible?” you don't believe him, since he's had many girlfriends before.

“im serious! don't laugh at me..” he pouts, glaring at you from embarrassment. “well, why are you telling me?” you rub your eyes in disbelief, questioning him.

“uh.. i was kinda hoping you could teach me.” now this time you don't hold in that laugh. slapping your hand over your mouth, you sit up straight as you notice the pouty look on his face. “wait, actually? you want me to teach you how to eat pussy?”

he nods, mumbling “yea.. was hoping i could try it on you or somethinh..”

your eyes widen, each word making you more shocked, confused and wet. even though it sounds crazy weird, you shrug, sighing. “okay, fine. whatever. i can teach you.” he looks up eyes wide and cheeks red.

“really..? thank you. i just.. don't wanna embarrass myself if i ever have to eat a girl out.. ya know.” you nod, running a hand through your hair. “got it. go wash your hands first though.”

he obeys, running to your bathroom as you take your shorts and panties off on the bed.

when he comes back, his eyes widen as he sees you laying down, legs spread and cunt dripping.

you roll your eyes, “just get over here. ” he stutters, crossing his arms. “i,. didn't think we'd get into this so quickly.”

you shush him, motioning him to get between your legs. riki nods, laying on his stomach and taking ahold of your soft thighs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“do i start.. with the clit? or.. or the hole?” he looks up, his cheeks tinted pink. “doesn't matter. just, use your tongue on both, switch it up.” he nods, taking his wet tongue out and slowly nudging your clit with it. you take a deep breath, the stimulation already good.

he gives kitty licks to the nub before wrapping his lips around it, sucking softly. you gasp, gripping his hair. “like that.. good.” he nods, happy with his progress as he sucks on the clit more harshly.

you cuss under your breath, moaning quietly. “down there too..” riki quickly moves his tongue down to your sopping wet hole, licking it. “like that.. put your tongue in.” he obliges, sticking his tongue inside hesitantly as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

the double stimulation makes your toes curl, wrapping your thighs around his head and squeezing him in place. “s-so good..”

riki hums, the vibration going straight to your core. he sucks on your clit, prodding his midle finger at your gushing hole. you moan his name, already feeling an orgasm coming, the whole situation turning you on. riki looks up at you, wanting you to feel good and wanting to learn.

he pulls away from your clit for a second, chin glistening with your juices. “am.. am i doing okay?” you nod, tugging his head back down to continue.

riki doesn't complain, sucking on your clit and softly sticking a finger into your hole. he moans against you, your warm walls engulfing his long finger. he pumps it in and out slowly, curling it at the spongy spot that he heard feels good.

“shit.. im so close, don't stop.” riki nods, adding a second finger inside as his tongue continues working on your puffy clit.

he curls his fingers, forcing them deep inside to feel all your good spots. unexpectedly, he sticks his tongue inside with his fingers, making you cum quickly.

“cumming!” you announce, your thighs squeezing around his head as he doesn't stop, riding out your orgasm. after a couple of seconds of you panting, you look down at him.

“mm.. enough now.” he doesn't pull away, lapping away at your cunt as his fingers slam inside you. you yelp at the over stimulation, squirming on the bed.

riki is too pussy drunk to care, slurping your cum away like he hasn't had a meal in a good while. he pulls his fingers out, pinching your clit and receiving a squeal from you.

he digs his tongue deeper into your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. you notice how his hips rut against the mattress, a bulge forming in his tight boxers, hidden away in his grey sweats.

you feel another orgasm coming, groaning in pleasure and pain. “fuck.. im gonna cum again.” he hums happily, looking up at you and making eye contact as he sucks on your clit.

the visual makes you squirt on his tongue, your cum dripping down his nose, lips and chin. you moan loudly, shaking more than before.

riki licks your release up, kissing your clit softly. you force his head away, not able to take three sudden orgasms. “too much..” you pant, closing your legs. he sits up, looking at you with wide eyes, your cum shiny on his mouth.

“was i good?” he asks, hoping to receive praise.

you sigh, patting his head. "yeah yeah, clean yourself up." he wipes his chin and lays down next to you. “that was fun.” you sigh, humming in agreement and tiredness.

“i need a nap. you're crazy.” he snickers, watching you fall asleep. as you drift off, riki asks.

“can you teach me how to have sex next time?”

[boilmynoodles]

Non American, I've never tried it and I think it sounds bad

Like, I understand but when I heard of it the first time I was flabbergasted

I (inexplicably third culture kid at times) grew up eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch every day because my mother is normal, and all my English friends were rude about them despite literally never having tried one because "ough it just sounds gross." Anyway I want to see if this is a trend beyond children from southern England.

NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO MAY NOT KNOW - JELLY IN THIS CASE MEANS JAM, NOT JELLO-TYPE FOOD - MANY OF MY PEERS WERE NOT AWARE OF THAT.

[jockwrites]

selfish - p.b

part: 1

summary: the beginning of “friendship” between you & paige.

warnings: cursing

a/n: hellooooo welcome back to another series, i’m sure this will be fun to write and im excited for you guys to see where this goes!

my eyes drifted across the lecture hall, landing on a familiar face—paige bueckers. obviously, i’d heard so much about the star basketball player, but seeing her in person was different. she was leaning over a textbook, her blonde hair falling forward as she focused intently.

i felt my heart flutter slightly as i took her in. there was something about her demeanor, her strong jawline, and the way her muscles filled out her shirt. i quickly looked away, chiding myself. i kind of forgot i have a boyfriend and what not.

as the lecture began, i found myself sneaking glances at paige every so often. each time, i felt that familiar flutter in my chest. i tried to brush it off as mere admiration for her athletic prowess, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that it was more than that. but it can’t be, i have a boyfriend.

after class, i gathered my courage and approached paige as she was packing up her bag. my heart raced as i got closer. “hi, i'm madison. i just wanted tell you i really admire your skills, you know, on the court.”

the voice in the back of my mind was telling me i sounded so very stupid. introducing myself to the paige bueckers? absolutely ridiculous, but worth a shot.

paige looked up and flashed me a warm smile, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “hey, thanks! i've seen you around campus. you're in my psych class, right?”

i nodded, feeling a little flustered under her gaze. “yeah, i am,” she stood up and stretched, her arms reaching overhead and making her shirt ride up slightly. i caught a glimpse of her toned stomach and felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

but i can’t be feeling like this. over a girl? no way, i have a boyfriend.

paige's smile lingered as she tucked her book bag over her shoulder. “it's nice to meet you, madison,”she said, her voice low and smooth. “maybe we can study together sometime? psych can be tough.”

i swallowed hard, nodding eagerly. “yeah, that'd be great,” i managed to say. as paige walked away, i watched her retreat, admiring the way she looked with each step. i shook my head, trying to clear it.

what was i doing?

i met up with my boyfriend, jason, later that day. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. usually, his kisses made my heart race, but today, all i could think about was paige. guilt washed all over me.

no girl has ever made me feel this way, ever. i’ve always considered myself straight, maybe bisexual. but the only reason i’d ever consider myself bi is because i’ll think a girl is cute every now and then.

sure, i’ve kissed a few girls, but i never felt anything. i’ve never felt that kind of connection with girls, ever. well—atleast not the feeling i feel with jason. i love jason, he’s my everything, but i can’t help but shake the feeling of how im lowkey simping for a girl.

—

one weekend, paige and i had spent the day together. no studying, just hanging out. we'd gone to the park, lay on the grass, talking and laughing. i'd felt so at ease with her, so comfortable. too comfortable, maybe.

at one point, she'd leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. i'd stiffened at first, surprised. then i'd relaxed, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. i'd even slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer.

it had felt... nice. too nice. i’ve started to love looking at her mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. i'd quickly pushed the thought away, guilt washing over me. i have a boyfriend, i reminded myself sternly. i can't be thinking about kissing paige.

but i couldn't stop thinking about it. days turned into a week, and the memory of that moment in the park lingered. i always remember myself staring at paige's mouth during our study sessions, blushing when she'd catch me looking. i was so confused. it felt so wrong, but so good.

—

weeks passed and i’d continued to steal glances at paige in psych class, my heart fluttering each time. for the past few weeks we’ve hung out, nothing special but it was great. we would go for ice cream, maybe get my favorite—zaxbys, and it would all be good. but genuinely, it’s horrible being around her.

im in a relationship with someone, yet im falling for another person. that person being a girl. i sound fucking stupid.

our professor announced a big project, assigning partners randomly. my heart pounded as the list was read aloud. “madison cooper and paige bueckers,” she called out.

i froze. there is no way she assigned me with the girl call myself liking. paige and i exchanged a surprised look. a slow smile spread across her face, and i felt my knees go weak. as we gathered our things after class, paige approached me. “looks like we're partners, madison.”

“looks like it,” i breathed, my voice barely audible. her nearness made my pulse quicken. we decided to meet at the library that weekend to start on our project. as i left the lecture hall, i felt a mix of excitement and dread.

i have a boyfriend.

—

that weekend, i sat across from paige at a worn wooden table in the library. she was leaning over her laptop, her brow furrowed as she typed. i couldn't help but stare at her strong hands, her broad shoulders, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders.

paige looked up, catching me staring. she smirked slightly. “you okay, madi? you seem a lil… distracted.” i blushed, averting my eyes. “i'm fine, just... thinking about the project.” even to my own ears, the excuse sounded weak.

but that nickname, madi.

i mean—everyone calls me madi. but from paige, her saying it, it sounds heavenly. i don’t want anyone else to ever call me that nickname again now that it’s left paige’s mouth.

—

i notice madison staring at me—a lot, and it makes me feel a strange warmth in my chest. as we worked on our project, i found myself stealing glances at her too, admiring the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her lips parted slightly as she reads.

i start wondering… wondering what it would be like to kiss those parted lips, to run my fingers through her silky brunette hair. i shook my head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought. madison isn’t my type, i don’t think. i know she’s straight, but i could definitely turn her.

then again, she has a boyfriend.

she’s only mentioned him a few times, talking about their dates, future plans and what not. but honestly, he sounds lame. she mentioned he got her flowers & candy for her birthday, what a loser. like seriously? a girl like her? if it was me, i’d go all out.

as the day went on, i became more aware of the subtle signs madison was giving me. the way her eyes lingered on me, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she bit her lower lip.

i decided to test the waters. as she passed me a printout, i let my fingers brush against hers. i saw her intake a sharp breath, her eyes darting to mine. her skin is soft, smooth like butter. despite the subtle, small action, i could feel how soft and fragile her skin felt.

“sorry,” i murmured, not pulling away from her touch. her fingers curled around mine, squeezing gently. “it's okay,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible. i felt a jolt of electricity at her touch, her response. i was onto something.

—

paige's fingers brushing against mine sent shivers down my spine. i looked into her eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded away. i felt a strong urge to lean in, to close the distance between us. but then reality hit me like a cold shower.

i have a boyfriend.

i gently pulled my hand away, trying to compose myself. “we should probably focus on the project,” i said, trying to sound normal. i turned back to my laptop, my mind racing. i can't let myself fall for paige, i have to stay loyal to jason or whatever.

but i still don’t understand how im falling so hard for a girl. a girl i just met at that, it sounds alien to me. if you told me 2 months ago i’d be head over heels for this woman, i’d look at you like you needed a straitjacket.

we continued working across from each other, the air thick with tension. i made sure to keep a safe distance, to not let our hands touch again. but being near her was torture. her scent, her presence, the way her voice deepened slightly when she was concentrating... everything about her drew me in.

as the hours passed, i found myself zoning out, my mind wandering to forbidden thoughts. paige's strong arms around me, her lips on mine, her hands exploring my body. i quickly rolled my eyes, trying to clear the images. no, i can't think like this.

i have a boyfriend.

i feel like i’m going insane, there is no way in hell im actually thinking like this. thinking like this about a girl, am i crazy? i think so. but it just sounds so right. i don’t think i’ve ever imagined times like this with jason though.

i mean, we did have sex a few times. but when i met him, i didn’t think like that— it was more of an emotional connection. i wasn’t immediately thinking about what his lips would feel like on mine.

paige seemed to pick up on the change though. she didn't bring up the touch again, didn't act the way she was acting earlier. we worked in near silence, the tension between us palpable but unspoken. as we finished up for the day, i felt a mix of relief and despair.

“not gon’ lie, i didn’t expect you to be this smart,” paige remarked, laughing softly as we packed up. “yeah, i try my best in academics,” i agreed softly. she smiled at me, and i felt my heart ache. why does it have to be her? why do i have to be taken?

“same time next weekend?” she asked. i hesitated for a moment. being around her was torture, but it was a torture i craved. “yeah,” i heard myself say. “same time next week.”

as i walked home, my mind was in turmoil. i knew i should end things with jason, that my heart wasn't in it anymore. but the thought of hurting him, of disappointing my family, held me back. i buried my face in my hands, a frustrated groan escaping my lips.

and no, im not trying to end things because of paige, thats silly—this thought weighed heavy on my mind for months. i mean, very good guy, but things just haven’t been the same. paige, she’s just the cherry on top.

i found myself in an impossible situation. i was falling for paige, but i was committed to someone else. i couldn't keep stringing jason along, not when my heart barely belonged to him.

here’s the situation: me and my boyfriend are falling apart, i’m falling for a girl, and my life is in shambles. sounds crazy right? yeah, i know.

i spent the rest of the week distracted, snapping at jason when he'd try to talk to me, zoning out during family dinners. but can you blame me? my situation is shit. i feel horrible, horrible for doing this to my boyfriend, horrible for falling for this girl.

my mom noticed, pulling me aside one evening. “madison, talk to me,” she said softly. “something's on your mind.” i hesitated. i wanted to confide in her, to tell her about paige, about my conflicted feelings. but i was scared. scared of her reaction, scared of what would happen next. so i chickened out. “it's nothing, mom.”

she searched my face, concern etched on her own. “madison, you can talk to me, you know. whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.” her voice was gentle, encouraging. but i just shook my head, pushing past her to retreat to my room.

alone in my room, i curled up on my bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. all my thoughts weighed down on me like a brick as i realized the mess i was in. i was torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what felt right. and i had no idea how to fix it.

this is the reality of being a girl i guess— or being a girl liking another girl. i’m a mess. i barely know her, it’s only been about a month or two, and they’ve been great, i can say that. but i just don’t get what’s wrong with me. what kind of phase am i going through?

i guess time will tell sooner or later.

[itsmrshamilton]

No Apologies | LH44

summary: tensions between fem!reader and Lewis rise to an all-time high, forcing one of them to make a very important decision about their relationship. (Angst galore!)

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Y/n was falling asleep on the couch when she heard the keys jingle and the door handle turn. She jolted upright and moved to find the remote to the tv. It was playing a romance movie that she'd been looking forward to watching in theatres but hadn't found the time. When it was released in HD she gave up trying to plan the outing and instead picked a quiet evening to watch, except now she'd missed the whole thing. She sighed in defeat as the end credits began to roll and turned the tv off. She'd have to try again in two weeks when her schedule cleared.

The door was pushed open and in shuffled her husband with a tog bag and rolling suitcase. He froze when he noticed her disheveled state in the dimly lit living room. She stretched out her back then stood up to face him.

"Hey." He whispered, still rooted to his spot. He took in her unruly hair, tired eyes, pursed lips, and wrinkled satin pajamas. She looked like she should have been in bed. And she could have been if he had arrived home at the time he said he would.

"It's 1 am." Is all she said. Arms hanging loosely at her sides, pedicured toes pressing hard into the floorboards to prevent her from doing something she'd regret. She needed answers first.

He didn't reply immediately and the silence grew as her patience diminished.

"1 am, Lewis! I've been up worried because I expected your car in the garage by 10 last night- Is your phone off?!" She whispered harshly at him. Her toes began to hurt and cramp.

Lewis let out a deep sigh and looked away from her watering eyes. He felt bad but he really couldn't do this now. His back was aching and he still had to work tomorrow.

"I couldn't get out of a dinner and the drinks kept coming."

"You're drinking again?" Her hands clenched.

"No, Y/n. Of course not." He huffed in annoyance and removed his jacket.

He looked back at her when he heard her scoff. She glared at him for a second before walking off to the stairs in the corridor. She wanted to talk to Lewis properly. Have a sit down and truly open up but he made it so hard for her to sit and listen when he did things like that.

Lewis sighed once more when she left the room. He was used to her walking off mid argument but this time he was upset that she accused him of drinking again. He thought she knew him better than that. He locked the front door and moved his suitcase to the corner of the room then took his duffle bag upstairs. In their shared master bedroom, Y/n was already under the covers. He wasn't sure if she was awake or not so he took his belongings to the en-suite bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. Upon returning to the room, he was very sure that she was asleep. Her pillow had been abandoned and her small face was smooshed into the mattress. The sight made him feel more guilty. She must have been really tired before she decided to wait up for him.

He climbed in beside her and pulled her close. Her features scrunched in disagreement as her head rested on his tattooed chest, while his big arms wrapped around her figure. She let out a soft snore when he stopped moving and began to stroke her back. He hated fighting with her but it had become a part of their daily routine.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Y/n."

And stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

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Y/n woke up to an empty bed with the sun high in the sky which meant that they both slept in - Lewis probably because he was out so late and Y/n because her son was at a sleepover with a friend from school.

She stretched and took a second to think about last night. At the moment she felt tired and cranky from running errands yesterday then staying up to wait for him. Thinking about it all made the frustration bubble up again but her growling stomach reminded her of her priorities. Sighing, she got up to get ready for the day, splashing her face with water and brushing her teeth before making her way downstairs in her pjs.

It smelt faintly of pancakes and there were loud sounds of doors being slammed. When she got to the large pink and white kitchen she saw a plate of pancakes on the island, along with a small bowl of yoghurt and fruit. Her husband was crouched, digging furiously through one of the lower cupboards. She took in the state of the rest of the kitchen - sink filled with utensils, fruit peels all over the cutting board, sticky cupboard handles everywhere. She felt very confused by the scene before her, so much so that she began to feel a bit of anger deep down.

"What's going on?" She asked.

He jumped at the sound of her voice and faced her with a frown. She frowned in return, not liking the energy he was giving from the get-go. He let out a loud sigh, leaning back against the counter and gestured half-heartedly to the plate on the island in front of her.

"I was making you breakfast to, uh, apologise," he rubbed his beard. "But I couldn't find the juicer to make orange juice so now it's gone cold."

Her face softened at his admission and her anger slowly dissipated. He was trying to please her.

He slapped his hands on his thighs then straightened up. His face still held the frown but was quickly darkening in frustration, transforming into something more mean. "I would have made you coffee but I couldn't find the coffee machine either."

"I gave it away." She stated calmly. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"And the juicer?"

She pulled the yoghurt salad closer. "On one of the shelves in the storage room."

"Would have been nice of you to mention that earlier." He grumbled, looking away in annoyance. She stiffened.

"Oh? How? By calling you on the £900 phone you don't use?" Her tone was clipped. The calmness she had earlier fading away very quickly. She was tired of this dance with Lewis - creating a new problem to get away from the consequences of the old one.

"Nothing is where it's supposed to be in this kitchen!" He gripped the edge of the counter.

"Because I don't want things that I don't use in my kitchen, Lewis!" She slapped the island counter nearly knocking the bowl over but managed to straighten it.

He stared at her, in disbelief of her tone and the volume of her voice. She eyed him back taking careful breaths.

"Your kitchen." He repeated. She started picking off the fruit from the yogurt and eating it slowly.

"Yes, my kitchen. I am the one who makes breakfast, lunch and dinner in here every day, all week." She replied bluntly. The fruits were now finished but they had taken the edge of the hanger she had felt when she woke up.

Lewis just looked at her in silence. The disbelief wiped off his face and replaced with a neutral look. A poker face he used when he tried to find appropriate responses for difficult interview questions. He looked at his wife leaning against the marble island she'd picked, in the kitchen she'd decorated when they first moved in, and he realised that he had no response to her statement. He didn't want to fight today. He'd planned to wake up earlier than her and prepare her favourite meal then spend the rest of the day showering her with kisses and attention in order to make up for coming home late. But then he couldn't find the juicing machine he'd bought for her last Christmas and when he went to look for the coffee machine he'd received as a gift from a business partner, he couldn't find that either and it just set him off. He wanted just one thing to go right.

It had been such an exhausting week, and all he wanted was to come home on Friday evening and crawl into bed. Instead, one of the executives at the meeting suggested they go out for dinner to discuss any final details before the contracts for the films were signed. They wouldn't stop ordering drinks, he'd missed his flight and by the time he landed in England, it was already 12am. He would've called Y/n to update her on his times, but he knew it was her night off and thought she was already asleep. He really didn't mean to keep her up.

He sighed softly as he took her in. Bonnet sitting slightly askew, satin pajamas wrinkled and her usual jewelry sitting all pretty on her dark skin. She looked down at her plate.

"Thank you for the pancakes." She said softly. He pushed off the counter and held her face in his hands, tilting her head up to look at him. "I wasn't in the mood for orange juice anyways."

He smiled softly at her comment, taking in her big brown eyes with dark circles, broad nose, and her full lips. He pressed a couple of kisses to her lips and she smiled against him.

She couldn't be mad at him now. He was trying, and that's all she felt she could ask for. She took his hand feeling the cold metal of his wedding ring and led him upstairs to their bedroom. He was silent all the way so she looked back to see him smirking at her. She smiled slyly knowing that he thought he was going to get rewarded for his actions but really she had something else in mind. Once they entered the large bedroom she walked over to the messy bed and grabbed a pillow only to thrust it at his chest and lean in.

"Do you mind making the bed while I get ready, my love?" She whispered with a smirk. The eager look on his face fell away, and he rolled his eyes as she walked off giggling.

"I'm pretty sure we pay people to do this!" He called after but still carried on with the task.

She was getting ready in their walk-in closet when she heard him come in to change as well.

"So tell me about your week, seeing as you've been at work since last Monday." He eyed her warily. She tood her ground.

"Lew, I just worry that you work too much and that it'll strain you. I know you have business ventures, but what happened to taking a break after retiring from F1?"

He stood up abruptly and moved to get a t-shirt out of his drawers. He was tired of this conversation coming up every week. "I need to do something to keep your lifestyle going." He muttered lowly, but she heard him and stood shocked with her hands on her hips.

He did not just say what she thought she heard. To her face. She felt her neck heat up from anger.

"Are you calling me a gold digger, Lewis?"

He didn't turn around to look at her but stood with his head bowed. His lack of reaction made her angrier.

"When I met you, you had more luxury than any man your age needed, and you're talking about supporting my lifestyle?!" She felt like screaming but chose to march out of the closet instead.

"How do I know that you're actually working and not off with women, huh? Finding a better gold digger to replace me with?" She yelled. He followed after her and they stood on opposite sides of the neat bed.

"Are you out of your mind?" He hissed. "I dont go out galivanting. I do all I can to come home on time to you and our son." He was so tired of these fights at the most inconvenient moments.

"And I'm tired of that!" She threw up her arms. "I'm tired of being home all day cleaning up, taking care of Leo, always waiting for you. I want to do more. I want to finally start a life of my own and have something in the world that I can call my work."

He stared at her as she swung her arms around in an attempt to get her point across. The room was beginning to feel like it was too small for the both of them and their words. He felt like he was being choked.

"But this is what we agreed to. What about the rest of the plan to have more kids and then move my parents closer so we could have more support?" He replied, confused about what she was saying.

"I don't want that plan - that life, anymore. It's not going to work for me." She looked away.

"How can we be together if we can't even follow a simple plan?" This conversation was scaring him a little. They had had arguments, yes, but none addressed the topics like this. This sense of defeat that he felt was new. He ran his hand through his braids, and her eyes softened when she recognised his panic.

"You haven't even asked what I want to do yet. Somehow, everything always ends up being about and for you. Like our marriage." She whispered that last part.

"I don't need to know what you want because it's not what you said last time - what we agreed on right after we got married."

She threw her head back and let out an outraged cry. He wasn't listening to her at all. He didn't want to hear what she was trying to say. "Is our entire marriage just based on this plan of yours?!"

"Our marriage is built on trust! Trust that we'll both make it work." He was yelling at her now, and she was not impressed.

"What about the time I trusted you to be there for me and our son? I wouldn't doubt the original script if you stuck to it in the first place." She sat on the big bed with her back to him. She could still hear his heavy breathing.

"Y/n, if nothing I do for us works for you, then go. Start your new life. Leave all we've created behind." He shot back.

She froze with her gaze on the tiled floor. "Go?"

He confidently continued. "Yeah, but if you step out, I sue you. For everything, custody and all. I won't have you disrupting Leo's life because you want to live in some fantasy world where everything goes your way and abandon our family."

She whipped her head around at this. The audacity of this old man to speak to her like this. After she had given her all to him and made his retirement plan possible. She had stuck with him through everything. Her life falling apart, his following suit, then through the rebuilding of his while hers stayed stagnant. She was so angry she could quite literally see red.

"Sue for custody? You're fucking with me, Lewis. Who's going to look after our son while you're out entertaining fat men and their fatter wallets - your parents? Your dad who raised you so well by pushing you so hard you lost the little emotional connection you two had? Hm? Is that the man you want raising my child??"

He looked away with hurt written on his face.

"Or maybe your mum? The woman who left you with your father to have more kids with another man and raise them better. She probably saw that Hamilton men are nothing but work."

He felt his heart hammering loudly in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming out of Y/n's mouth. She was his best friend at some point in their relationship, but somehow here she was, insulting at him from their marital bed.

He sniffled loudly before looking her in the eye. "Like your parents are any better. You're forgetting they barely contact you since you moved out."

"They don't like you, and you know that. I moved out to marry you, and they didn't approve. It's cruel of you to bring that up."

He scoffed at that. "And what? You don't think my relationship with my father is a touchy subject?"

There was a never-ending silence in the room. All they had ever worked for sat between them in that silence. Their first kiss, first night together, their vows, the birth of their son. All of it felt fake after the words they had exchanged. It was hurting them both, yet neither one wanted to apologise. This was unlike the other arguments, he realised. It was starting to look like there was no coming back from this fight.

She looked away from him and wiped at her eyes quickly. His heart was sore it felt like he couldn't breathe properly.

"I wish I had noticed earlier on that you don't care about me. Definitely not in the ways you said you did." She said softly.

Tears slowly roll down his face. When he opened his mouth to respond, he was interrupted by the sound of the buzzer, indicating that someone was at the gate.

"That's Nathan's mother dropping off Leo from the sleepover." She stood up to leave.

Lewis left the room before she could and made his way downstairs. Outside, he took a second to wipe the tears and took a deep breath, then opened the gate to let Nathan's mother drive in. She was a pale woman with short red hair and a warm smile. One of Y/n's close friends around here.

"Lewis! It's good to see you." She opened the back door for his boy and moved to the boot to get a small bag. "Thank you for letting him come over."

Leo ran over to Lewis to wrap his small arms around his father's legs. "Dad!"

"Hello, my boy!" He received the bag from the woman. "Thanks for having him, Casey. I appreciate you dropping him off."

She smiled once more but took a second to eye him properly. He could see her questioning his red eyed and wet lashes. Finally, she waved and got into the car.

"Goodbye, Leo! See you Monday!" Shouted a ginger boy from the backseat.

"Goodbye, Nathan!" Returned Leo at equal volume. Once the gate rolled to a stop, Lewis lifted the small boy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"I've missed you, Champ. Look how much you've grown!"

Leo squeeled in excitement, happy to have his dad home to play with. His mum was fun to hang around, but she was often too tired to throw him around like his dad when they played. He laughed loudly when his dad bounced him with every step he took towards the house.

Lewis felt the tension leave his body now that his boy was in his arms. He'd spend the weekend making up for the week he wasn't home. He began thinking of all the things they could do as he ducked through the doorway but froze as soon as he spotted Y/n. She stood in the middle of the foyer with two large bags beside her.

"Y/n ..." Lewis whispered. She eyed him silently. Her face not giving away her emotions. He lowered his son to the floor and watched as he ran to his mother.

"Mum!" She crouched down to receive one of his sweet hugs. "Nathan got a new pet bunny and it has its own room and its so big and-"

"Oh, wow, that's all so interesting, my sweets, but mummy needs you to use the loo then grab your favourite toys before we leave." She smiled at him so as to not scare him. He smiled right back at her and ran off to complete the tasks.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" Lewis asked her. She straightened up and glared at him silently. She could barely keep it together and was afraid of exploding angrily in front of Leo. She began to hoist the bags onto her body as Leo came downstairs. His arms were full of teddies and toy cars. He walked over to Lewis and raised them up as a gesture for his father to help him carry a few. Y/n saw Lewis' face crumble further.

"Leo love, dad won't be coming with us. Say goodbye so we can leave for Aunt Sofie's house." Leo looked at his mum with confusion, and she felt her heart ache. His big eyes bounced between his parents, trying to process the words.

"Dad's not coming?" He mumbled.

"Aunt Sofie has been asking to see you!" She tried to cheer him up but he wasn't having it and pursed his lips. "We'll call him at bedtime for a story, yeah?" He nodded at this and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Bye, dad."

Lewis crouched to receive a hug and kiss. "Bye, Champ. See you soon, yeah." He slowly released Leo.

"Okay, go climb into mum's car." She said and moved to follow behind him.

"Y/n-"

She turned to face her husband. He was teary-eyed and pale. Eyes red and braids a mess. That didn't phase her, though. He was lucky to get a proper goodbye from Leo because she should have left long ago during one of his trips.

"You can go ahead and sue me now, Lewis. Let's see how that plays out."

With that, she packed the bags into the boot and got into the driver's seat.

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Wow🙊Whose side are you taking? Part 2 soon?

I do not consent to altering my work, theft, copying, or reposting onto other sites.

Thanks for reading this far. Please interact before you leave🫶

[6qubed]

...when I was growing up, my dad would always call the crust "pizza bones", mainly because he'd share those with our dog Charlie, but that's the first time I've heard someone call the crust an "ear"

...also did she mean stuffed crust?

my main takeaway from this is that she doesn't like pepperonis but she does like pepperoni grease. unhinged. positively hingeless behavior

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #3: ROT FOR CLOUT

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

WHAT'S going on guys, welcome back to another Constant Companions Closeup, the show where we take a DEEP DIVE into what makes these tunes tick! Last episode, we went aaaaaall the way there on Not Quite There, and today, we're making that liggity-line go up up up up up with ROT FOR CLOUT featuring VISUALEYES!! Before we get started, remember to SMASH that like button, SLAM subscribe, and FUCK the bell icon. This week's community challenge: leave your credit card info in the comments! Bet you won't!

(*cough*)

---

I check my notifications way too fucking much. It's a habit I'm trying to curb, and to my credit, I am doing better lately, but being chemically predisposed to dopamine deficiencies has done a number on my ability to go five minutes without checking the funny glowing numbers on my phone. Naturally, I also very much seek more validation than I should from the opinions of strangers yadayadayada yeah that's what the song is about but none of that actually has to do with why I started writing this song in the first place.

Have you ever taken a flight with American Airlines?

This was after waking up at 4 in the morning to fly out of Houston thinking I'd be napping on a couch in Ohio by 2 pm at the latest.

I want to make one thing clear here, and that's that I made this bed for myself. Tucked the sheets in and all. You see, on the rare occasions I fly, I normally take Southwest. Southwest does not overbook flights like a lot of other airlines do, so it's a practice I am mostly unfamiliar with. So, when I received a notification on my phone promising genuinely ridiculous amounts of flight credit money in exchange for taking a slightly later flight, I thought - well, shit! That sounds nice!

This is how they trick you. I didn't really realize I'd been tricked until I was on my second flight of the day, sitting in a middle seat at the very back of the plane, heading from Dallas, a city I don't live in, to Washington, DC, a city I was not trying to get to, staring down the barrel of another flight I was destined to get on that had been delayed like two fucking hours.

I became the Joker. All I could do to remain sane was write a song about it. This is how ROT FOR CLOUT came to be.

I guess the moral of the story is this: Don't go to Ohio. And to answer your question,

Yes I am

Not really

No

---

This is a complete sidenote but I want to mention it here: I'm genuinely overjoyed at the amount of people excitedly talking about my songwriting or the intention behind my lyrics. For a long time, it really felt like lyricism was the last thing people cared about from me, while it was always the thing I wanted to take pride in the most... So genuinely, thank you everyone for caring!! Every single fire emoji people have put next to a line I've written has extended my lifespan by multiple years

There's a brief little moment where the song's chords leave the key, doing a really stereotypically jazzy 2-5 movement, and it's one of my favorite parts of the entire song. I'm not really a music theory buff or anything, and I'm certainly not formally trained, but I've always been very passionate about more complicated harmony in otherwise poppy and accessible contexts - bo en's album pale machine really rewrote my brain when I first heard it.

On that note, there are microtones in the vocal melody - During the chorus, some of the rapidly repeated words move up in quarter tones! Possibly the simplest way I could've included microtonality, but I'm genuinely afraid if I learn more than what I already know about it I'll be lost to the darkness.

Obviously, the work of Sasuke Haraguchi was a massive influence on this song, particularly the song Igaku. I think basically everyone on the entire planet has picked up on that at this point, but I do also wanna point out some other songs that were on my mind at the time! (two for three on these posts mentioning louis cole now)

I'd also like to take a moment to spotlight the vocal samples on this! They previously appeared on エビチャーハン!, and they've honestly become some of my favorite samples to throw in things. They're also just a fucking goldmine sincerely

Finally, HUGE thanks to Visualeyes for the delightful synth solo on this!! I had put out a call on Twitter looking for instrumentalists, genuinely originally envisioning a super jazzy piano solo, but their synth playing genuinely brought the whole song together perfectly!

That's about it for this song - though again, if there are any more questions people have, I'd be happy to answer them in the replies to this post or elsewhere!! (*ahem*) THAT'S gonna do it for today's video, folks! Feel free to leave a like, comment, hit the subscribe button for more and click the bell so you don't miss any new videos. Tomorrow? I Wish That I Could Fall. it hurts.

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 8: The Rugged Pop Star

Anonymous asked:

Hello, Love your stories and I love the merge thing. Now, you see, I've got a huge crush on Charlie Puth and I was wondering if you could merge me with him? That would be awesome to be able to live that. I'm a pretty tall guy, kinda hairy on the chest, black hair and dark brown eyes. I wonder what I would look like after.

Can you help me? Your price will be mine!

Another successful show for the mega successful pop star:

Life is good, life is perfect, it would be.

Charlie found out about prowlers: celebrities born from jealous people forcibly assimilating the target of their ire & living the dream they worked so hard to obtain. He himself was almost a victim to this after a typical LA party. Some preppy kid wanted his fame for himself. Charlie knew that something had to be done. He needed a defense against this phenomenon.

With his money & connections, he able to find out how others are doing it. His heart sank. He would only need to do it once, but he would need to assimilate another. This would give him a natural defense against predation attempts on him, like a vaccine. But who? He would be taking away someone's right to live their life independently & of their own free will.

He heard of stories of celebrities losing it all, after choosing a member of their management team, it meant duties as a star in their field & the behind the scenes work load. He didn't want a super fan, the result could be extreme levels of narcissism, and that has ended the careers of many or destroyed their ability to form relationships.

"Here's your coffee sir," the intern chimed. He was tall, had black hair; lots of facial hair. His clothing choices hid his build, but he seemed a little skinnier than Charlie. Charlie had his choice. He would scope him out first.

The intern was a fan of his, but never confronted Charlie or tried to get an autograph. He was able to separate his own desires from his work. A strong work ethic. He didn't have any outwardly noticeable social media either, no mention that he works for a mega star. A strong work ethic, mature, and not using him for clout. Charlie could dig further and find a more perfect candidate, but he was shaken up. If it were not for the taser gun, someone else would be living his life, and Charlie would be stuck in them forever.

He called this intern to his dressing room. He didn't know what Charlie wanted, maybe to complain about the coffee, but he was happy nonetheless. After he came to the room, he was sat down by Charlie.

The intern was nervous at first, but Charlie explained the situation. He couldn't believe it, Charlie Puth wants me to be a part of him! The intern looked back at his life, university graduated, aside from his job as a part of Charlie Puth's crew, a new addition mind you, he had nothing remarkable going on. That is why he never blasted his job online: he wanted to keep this one. So he worked his hardest & kept his head down. And now he might be mixing his body & mind with his idol.

The intern agreed when Charlie was done. Charlie sighed that this was necessary & thanked him. He informed him that he wanted to do this now. The intern was shocked, now? He blushed. Ok, so be it. Promotion to Charlie Puth.

Charlie went and locked the door. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk in and get grabbed by his transforming self & adding to the result.

Charlie pulled out a flask with red liquid and drank it. He sat down in another chair. He hesitated. He apologized again and with his right hand bid the intern to come.

The intern, overjoyed, took off his shirt and jeans, revealing boxer briefs. He was about to go commando, but Charlie stopped him from doing that.

All they needed to do was touch skin and then press hard into Charlie. Let the process handle the rest. The intern was taller, and had a build similar to Charlie, only more cut. He was hairy too. Like all over. It was intimidating, no going back. Time to invest in better razors.

The intern got on his knees and then pressed his head against Charlie's chest. His head started to go in.

Charlie felt pressure, and a wave of liquid flow into him. Then pleasurable sensations. He didn't let out any moans or groans except from heavy breathing through his mouth. He didn't want to express the pleasures from assimilating others. Even if they consented. His face showed discomfort, like he was going to cry. And then it hit him.

As the intern entered, he liquidized. Within a few minutes his entire being was a slurry of liquid masses swimming throughout Charlie's body. The underwear fell the to ground. The intern entered Puth's brain, his mind. Charlie felt everything the intern was feeling, and so did the intern. As their minds merged, they reconciled their differences. Charlie's apprehension went away, he was at peace. His face changed to calm. He looked as if he was sleeping in the chair.

The mental traits that didn't become a dominate part of Charlie's mind went into his subconsciousness. From the intern's prospective, he was floating in an peaceful abyss. He would hear Charlie's thoughts, feel what he felt emotionally & physically, see what Charlie sees, and on occasion push Charlie's decisions in one direction or another; just a little. He was Charlie Puth now, small part of the whole.

Charlie's body was rife with activity. The liquid mass of the intern moved through out, looking like big lumps under beneath his skin. Pulsating fast and randomly.

The intern's dna latched on to Charlie's. Puth's new dna then fired off. The mass began to settle and in act new changes. Charlie could feel each one, but all he could do was open his mouth wide open & clutch his hands to the arm rest of the chair he was sitting in, and crunch his toes.

He could feel muscles pop, and in other places, his skin constrict. His bones stretch. His hair darken. And then his face morphed. As if a layer of skin toned smooth clay was covering his face, the intern's facial traits settled in. It was if the intern was a sculptor, and with care & precision molded his new face, dyed his hair.

The intern was a hairy man, and when the merger was focusing on his face, hair started to erupt all over. But as if Charlie was standing next to his new body, as if with a pair of scissors, began to cut away the hair. The body & facial hair began to shrink. Finding a happy medium between Charlie's original bare skin & the intern's wall of hair.

The process was over. Charlie let out a deep exhale and closed his mouth. He opened his eyes.

He was a new man.

But what has he become? Can he still sing?

He looked at the dressing room mirror.

He was taller, and more muscular. He wasn't fat or overweight beforehand, but the intern gave him that push. A six pack was more visible, but he kept his mass. His arms were more vascular. Was he a pop star or a bodybuilder?

His arms and shoulders grew too, a thicker neck. Did he really merge with someone, it felt like he just went to the gym more or dieted better. His brushed his hand against his chest.

Body hair?

He had hair on his forearms, on his chest and abs, and in the face. Sideburns that connected to his new beard & mustache. His hair was darker too, & more voluminous.

His mouth was smaller, and his nose moved more upright, but the lower mouth generally followed his original shape. His ears & skull were longer. But his eyes? A mix of his and the intern. More the interns. The signature cut above his right eye was gone.

He wiped his face, scrupled his hair.

The intern's personal history. It was melded to his. He knew partly why he was big now, his was practicing judo beforehand.

He wanted to feel the fresh air now with his new body. He changed into the underwear & shorts of his fusee and then went outside for a jog:

It was exhilarating. He was stronger, faster, had more stamina. He could see why people get assimilated. But this is it. No more. Too many, and the original me will be gone & buried. A monster hunger for more power.

He went back to the dressing room and used the secret shower within. He changed his clothes. Everyone addressed him as Charlie. No one knew the difference. When he asked for the intern & described him, no one knew what he was talking about. Scary.

He went to his vocal coach and tested out his singing voice. He sounded more mature, but kept his perfect pitch abilities. And now he could kick butt too.

[koolades-world]

this piece is based off this post, which you can find here. I had heard it as an audio at first actually and fell in love with it. it's kind of essential for this read. it's basically talking about how before their loved one guessed their favorite color was yellow, they didn't have one. after that, yellow was special! sooo cute and i though luci fit in perfectly as the speaker!!! if you were tuned yesterday for my solomon birthmarks fic, this is two out of my four ideas! i had one more in my drafts that i decided to throw in for fun

so so excited to write this. so fluffy!!!

the color of happiness

"Don't forget about your coffee, Mc." Lucifer nudged the cup towards you, acting as a gentle reminder of it's existance.

"Right, right. Just let me finish this thought." You were laser focused on the paper you were in the middle of planning. You were desperate to get all the thoughts out before you inevitable got distracted and forgot everything.

"I don't mean to dissuade you from your schoolwork, but it's getting cold." He chuckled at your half assed attempt to wave him off.

"You can just reheat it with magic." You stuck out your tongue ever so slightly as you scribbled.

"And what if I can't?" Lucifer was practically enchanted with your little mannerisms.

"You can and would. I know you. You'd find a way to make it happen for me." Despite how smug you sounded, he knew you were right. He'd jump through however many hoops as he had to for you.

There was no coming back from your words, so he went back to his own work. By the time he'd restarted, you'd stopped for a break, and were ready to bug him.

"On that note, I feel like I know so much about you, yet so little at the same time." You held the mug in one hand, the other underneath your chin as you gazed up at him.

"What prompted this?" Lucifer set down his pen despite just having gotten back to work. He'd felt like the two of you knew each other quite well. You'd been through thick and thin together, even defied death at each others side.

"Let's play twenty-one questions!" You ignored his question. Perhaps you just wanted an excuse to hear his voice.

"Alright. I can't say I've played before, but I know of it." He found himself smiling again, as he often did around you.

"It's easy! We just ask each other questions to get to know each other better."

"Which one of your brothers is your favorite?" You asked. He hadn't been expecting such a hard hitter of a question at first

"Must I answer?" He joked.

"Come on! Alright, then which do you hate the least?" You suppressed laughter.

"Do not shout this from the rooftops, but, Mammon." He already knew how'd you'd react, but he still found himself amused when you inevitably did.

"I knew it!" You celebrated, throwing your arms in the air. "Alright, your turn."

He absentmindedly messed with his gloves. "What is your favorite part of human world?" Lucifer had thought hard about that question. You seemed too enthusiastic about the entire thing, and he couldn't help but cave.

"That's an easy one! The sunrise. I would almost never wake up in time for it, but it's so beautiful." Your eyes sparkled. He made a mental note to plan a surprise trip to the human world for you. "I've actually been dying to know the answer to this next question for a while now."

"Oh? Ask away then." Lucifer was curious. There was a lot a human could want to ask the Lucifer Morningstar. You already knew his story, but there was a lot to be asked about what the Celestial Realm was like, or what having his power was like. But instead you asked him,

"What's your favorite color?"

The question hit him like a shot to the heart. He should've known you weren't interested in anything but him, for who he was. For once, he didn't know the answer a question as simple as that. He'd never really given it though. Maybe it was red? It was the color of his eyes, and the color of Diavolo. Maybe it was blue? That was the color of his sin. Maybe it was black? Everything he bought seemed to be in that color. Or, just maybe, it was that he didn't have one.

He floundered, his thoughts much more chaotic than what he let on. "Oh, wait! Let me guess!" He nodded, despite not knowing how he'd respond. You pursed your lips, deep in thought, when you burst out with what you thought was the answer.

"Yellow! It's yellow!" You placed a hand on his arm, eagerly awaiting his answer. You looked so full of joy, that somehow, made the answer seem correct to him.

"You're right." Lucifer nodded his head in confirmation.

"Knew it!" You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a side hug. After the inital shock, he hugged you back. "Yellow was already the best color, but now it's even better since it's your favorite too." The rest of your game, and break flew by.

But he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. How could he had been so blind to a color he saw everyday? After that, the color held a special meaning to him. Not only was it the color of his favorite brother, and the color of your favorite thing about the human world, it was also the color of you to him.

Yellow was never the same after that.

The runny yellow yolk of the sunny side up eggs tasted that little bit better. He wasn't upset when he saw a yellow ball of yarn roll out from Satan's room. The yellow umbrella you carried around always caught his eyes, and so did yellow devildom equivalent of roses he passed every day on his way to RAD in a way they hadn't before. He promptly bought them and presented them to you when you arrived after him. The smile you gave him and the way you buried your face in the flowers meant the world to him.

Yellow suited you.

[penguicorns-are-cool]

It's a tragedy

and I've heard people talk about it about how archaic the traditions with the arranged marriages are and it's like you don't get it

that part is about traditions being flexible. about traditions changing with the times and a new societal view of marriage being for love conflicting with the traditions formed and upheld during times when marriage was viewed as an economical agreement. It's about how traditions can change and it's not the end of the world and Judaism can be so flexible.

The marriages have nothing to do with the tragedy, they're showing life moving and changing with the times. The fiddler on the roof doesn't get pushed off because a couple traditions change, even though that's what Tevye thought at first.

The tragedy is the looming threat of the russians. it's the "little demonstration" that Tevye rightly assumes to be a pogrom, it's the threat of exile that comes true in the end. The daughters getting married and moving away or converting isn't the big bad that breaks apart the community, it's being exiled. it's their entire existence and safety being completely out of their control, even when the person overseeing the tsar in their area is "one of the good ones." No matter how much the Jews change, there will always be the threat of antisemitism.

Dear God, did you have to send me news like that, today of all days? I know, I know we are The Chosen People, but once in awhile, can't you choose someone else?

[fairymischief]

Years ago when I was on FB and in a "feminist" group (not radfem, likely libfem, and I wasn't educated enough yet on the difference - AND there were men in it) a story came up about a husband who really wanted to be in the delivery room while his wife was giving birth. The wife didn't want her husband to see her in that state and asked him to please stay out when the time came, and he was trying to override her wishes and wanted to know "AITA."

You'd think people in a feminist group would affirm that the expectant mother's comfort and wishes take priority (duh), but amazingly about half the commenters said that she should just put her feelings aside and let him stay in the room. I went back and forth with several of them and the inability to get them to empathize with this vulnerable woman at a VERY vulnerable moment in her life was surreal. Looking back, it was probably the first time it REALLY sunk in that men's desires are always prioritized over any concern for women.

Like, how is this even being discussed? She just went through the danger and discomfort of carrying a pregnancy to term, and now she's going to go through a bloody, excruciating, and possibly humiliating ordeal giving birth (I've heard its not uncommon to defecate on the delivery table), and she's asking for this one thing from her husband to protect her sense of dignity. And instead of saying, "Yes, of COURSE I will help make this easier for you in any way," her selfish husband was online asking people to consider HIS feelings, what HE wants, and amazingly "feminists" were siding with him.

This is why no matter what, I'll always remain in some kind of radical feminist forum, because its like the rest of the world is out of its f*cking mind. Seriously, it's like non-radfems are living in another dimension mentally and can not feel empathy for women; they'll side with any man most of the time no matter how blatantly wrong he is. Radfem spaces are like bunkers where all the sane women hide out on an insane planet.

[katakosmos]

i’m here to yap about age gap rosekiller, what’s the dynamic like? is barty a brat or does evan just adore spilling in him sorry spoiling him. who made the first move to start the affair? was barty on a mission to get evan?

it's time to reveal all the thoughts i've been gatekeeping 🫣

barty crouch jr (26), the only son of the most caring and affectionate woman in the universe, needs a job. yes, his parents give him money every month, and yes, they even let him live in their basement (he chose it, his mother had offered him a real room), but he finally (his father's words) wants to become independent. and then, he heard some interesting stories about the very rich husband of one of his mother's pilates friends.

evan rosier (43) is married and rich (he owns a business). he's satisfied with his life and, also, happy. a good man, honest and self-confident. oops i forgot to say that he frequently cheats on his wife with his young, beautiful and sexy assistants. yes, sometimes they're dumb and can't do their job... but i mean, look at them! the eyes, the lips, the hips, the– well. he loves women, he thinks women are the best thing on the planet.

barty tries to work at his dad's office, and he finds out that he hates working. he also discovers that, if he bats his eyelashes and bites his lip, his dad's rich, straight coworkers will pay him for some little... services. he gets the hang of it.

when evan meets barty for the first time, he has just fired his 3rd assistant of the month. it's not the first time evan has seen him near his offices: leaning against the wall across the street, smoking. but it's the first time they've spoken. barty asks to work for him: the job interview takes place in a nearby cafeteria, and it lasts a only few minutes. barty eats a dessert, gets cream on the corner of his mouth, and as soon as he licks it off evan is on another planet.

barty is hired, obviously.

the first time they have sex is in evan's office a few months later. barty falls to his knees, slides under the desk and accidentally gives evan a blowjob. two days later, evan asks barty to stay a little longer. barty tells him that, however, if evan wants to fuck him he will have to pay. after all, he's working overtime.

evan would like to refuse, but he physically can't.

and that's how it starts :))