#i made and posted this here about a year ago or so

[wooziorgans]

moon song || ljh

warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.

please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.

The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.

Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.

The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.

At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.

Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.

All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.

You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.

The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.

Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.

It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.

After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?

Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.

Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.

It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.

Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.

You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.

“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.

Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.

Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.

“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.

“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.

“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.

“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”

So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.

“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.

“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.

You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.

And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.

He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.

Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.

You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.

Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.

He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.

Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.

His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.

He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.

Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.

You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.

“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.

“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.

Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.

You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.

“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.

You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.

Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.

Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.

“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.

“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.

He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.

It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.

“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.

“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.

Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.

He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.

“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.

“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.

“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.

Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.

“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.

“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.

“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.

“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.

The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.

“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.

You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.

Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.

There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.

“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.

“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.

“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.

As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.

“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.

Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.

You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.

Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.

“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.

“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.

“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”

“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.

“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.

His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.

a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.

[city-tickles]

Two Tickle Sessions In One Day!

Hi!

It's been a while but I hope you are doing well. I am still on break from posting clips or requests but I wanted to let you know about my recent sessions.

A month ago I was in one of those bad tickle moods. One of those moods where it was all you could think about and the rush of getting tickled or tickling someone was intense. I don't get these moods often and usually when I do, I don't like it because the last couple of times that has happened, I've received bad news about someone I care about, so it also makes me a little anxious when I get that way. Thankfully, it did not happen this time.

I needed to get the mood out but there was no one in the area to session with. Since no one was available, I decided to check out two parties that I have not been to in years. One M/M party and one Female Foot Party.

When it comes to M/M, I am 100% lee and it is something that does not give me much if any arousal. It's just tickling, and I can appreciate it. I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it could "get me there" but I've seen enough clips and done sessions, and it usually doesn't. I also rarely do M/M because I have to be in a mood for it. This time, I was in a big mood for it, so I decided to go.

I've spoken about the M/M party in the past. Last time I went about 8 years ago, I just wasn't comfortable or ready to be there and it seemed like the owner took umbrage with that when I tried to leave. I figured a lot of time has passed and I have gained more experience, so hopefully things would be fine. I explain why I wanted to go to the party, and I was allowed to go.

I entered the party, and as a cis-identifying male, it's a little overwhelming at first. Action (Everyone is clothed) is everywhere right in front of you, but everyone is also very nice and doing their thing. I like to give people space, but there was no space to go, so I was just watching everything go down lol.

While waiting, I was introduced to a guy, who had grey hair and , who was also into tickling and we began talking. At first, the convo was small talk, but then we realized we knew each other from a previous meeting, which made things easier. After some talking, he asked what I was here for and when it comes to males, I am strictly a lee, so I told him I wanted to be tickled. Luckily, a massage table opened up and was cleaned off and ready to be used. We asked the table owner, who was a tall, slender man with grey hair and facial hair, if we could use it. Lucky or not lucky for me, we were allowed but the table owner was also into tickling. They asked me if he could join in and I figured why not?

I laid on the table and decided not to be bound because sometimes I stay still anyway. And before I know it, I have two lers all over me, testing out my spots and trying to find where I am most ticklish. They would glide their fingers all over my sides, under my arms, my tummy, my thighs and of course, my feet while I laughed and didn't move around too much. It was extra sensitive because 1. With the massage chair, I'm mostly looking upwards and can only see the ceiling. And 2. I'm getting teasing from all angles! The two very skilled lers keep saying things like, "Oh, he's real ticklish!" "I think he likes it!" While others at the party are watching and saying things like, "I think he doesn't want it to stop" and "He's having a lot of fun now"

With two lers on me, I never had time to have one spot make me off the wall ticklish because it was always changing. Sometimes it was their fingers lightly tickling my stomach that was the most intense. Other times, it was harder touches on my feet by one of the lers. Sometimes it was an attack under my arms. There were a lot of different moments during the 20-30 minutes of tickling that just kept making me laugh hysterically. I do know at one point, a hairbrush was used because I felt it and that always felt more surprising than ticklish. The other interesting part about having two lers on your feet were both styles were different. One was lighter and the other was harder, but both were effective!

(I couldn't find a MM/M gif)

After my time was done, I thanked them for the session and decided to wrap up since the party was coming to an end anyway. It was time to go to the next party.

This party, which I also had low hopes for, runs all the time in NYC and it is pay-to-play. I was that down bad, that I was willing to do it this evening lol. I went in with very low expectations and the reminder that if the first few moments are bad, I can just leave.

When I got there, it took forever for them to let me in, which already set my expectations to low. Despite this, I walked in and heard laughter already. Someone was getting tickled under the sheets, so I knew I wasn't the only tickler in the area. The girls that I saw in there were nice and chill to talk to for the most part. Some were more personable, while others just wanted to make their money, which I am not upset about. They're not there to be my friend.

The first lee was a tiny girl with red hair, and was ticklish but not that reactionary. I don't think she was ticklish on her feet at all, but I would always ask if it's okay to tickle elsewhere. Thankfully it was, and her upperbody, especially her arms, were her weakspot. She did not seem into it in the slightest, so I tried not to overdo it.

The second lee was this tall, black girl, with long hair and very nice to talk to. She wasn't sure how ticklish she could be, so I would tested some of her spots. Her feet were tolerable, her knees were very sensitive, and under her arms, she was almost unable to do!

I brought some tools that I didn't bring out at the M/M party (my bag at that party was all the way on the other side I just didn't want to bother with it) I ran an ostrich feather up and down her soles and her legs, which felt more relaxing to her. Then, I brought out TicklingDuck's device vibrating device.

As the device touched her soles, she would laugh hard, squirm around, cover her mouth, and was genuinely shocked at something being so ticklish on her. I asked if I could use the device on her knees and she went "Oh no!" and let me do it anyway, which I didn't do for long because she couldn't handle it.

The third lee was another redhead, who was also a nice person to talk to and wearing boots and long socks. I tickled her through the socks first, which made her giggle a bit, before taking them off and scribbling on her toes and soles so more. Her feet were also moderately ticklish, so I asked if I could tickle other parts of her body. Her weakspot was the ribcage and made any other spot look like a 1 compared to them! I spent most of my time on her feet since the ribcage was so intense, but we did play a few games. I would tell her if she could let me tickle there for 10 seconds, she would get a reward, which would be a foot massage or other foot worship. She agreed and barely opened up her arms until I scribbled in there and teased her further, saying "You gotta let me get in there or I'm gonna increase the time" She opened up her ribs and it was the longest 10 seconds of her life. Afterwards, I would congratulate her for making it through and doing such a good job.

After we were finished, I was ready to go since I had an obligation to get to later in the evening, but another taller woman approached me and asked me if I like tickling. She mentioned that she liked tickling to and wanted to know if I wanted to session. I was skeptical at first, because it felt like a money-grab, but I figured I'm already here so why not?

Best decision I made at that party. I started by spider tickling all the way up from her feet to legs, to her sides, across her tummy, back to her ribs, and of course under her arms. This woman was genuinely ticklish everywhere and was a lot of fun to play with. I would caress her thighs and tease like I'm about to tickle there, only to sneak attack and tickle her tummy. I brought out the TicklingDuck device again and we played another counting game to see how long she could last without moving, and I made sure to count the longest 30 seconds I could, running my fingers all across her tummy and under hear arms while she laughed her head off underneath the covers. The last thing I did to her, was bring out the pair of stocks that just arrived. I was itching to try them on someone and she was so excited to see stocks. We locked her bare feet and the stocks and I ran my fingers all across her soles and under her toes, while she was unable to get away or pull them out. While these sessions lasted 10 minutes, this one was definitely longer and we both knew it. After she was done, she complimented my ler skills, saying most male lers are rough, but I was very gentle with her, but also devastating, which I took as a big compliment.

Before I left, I had one request for her. I had a hard time locking the stocks on myself at my home, but when I did, they were not very comfortable. I asked if she could test the stocks out on me to see how good they were. She obliged and got my feet in the stocks. Once I was locked in, she began running her nails across my soles, which was one of the more intense tickles I got all night! I laughed hard and and was unable to do anything else, my feet were trapped and that definitely made the tickling worse! She would tease me and say things like "Aww! Is someone ticklish?" And "Now who's ticklish" until I had to stop her because I really had to get going. I thanked her for the fun time and planned to come back in the future.

Overall, it was a great day of tickles and satisfied my ler and lee moods!

[luizd3ad]

First Home | Poly!Moonwaterkiller x GN!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Remus Lupin X Regulus Black X Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader WC: 1,094 CW: Poly Relationship, Anxiety, talks of Remus being in pain Author's Note: Heyyyy so like I know I haven’t been here for a while but I’m hoping I’ll be getting back into this😌🖤 Summary: Remus nervous about his first full moon in the new house

. ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆₊☽ ◯ ☾. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° .

Remus was pretty happy with his life at this point. 

He had great friends, a promising career and the most perfect and loving partners he could ask for.

But that didn't change the fact that for one night a month he absolutely loathed his life. 

He hated the moon almost as much as he hated himself during the moon.

Though over the years he had learned to accept what he was significantly more than he used to. 

He had learned to tolerate it. To live with it.

But that didn’t mean it didn't scare the absolute hell out of him most of the time. 

Especially when the conversation of moving in with his partners came into the loop. 

He was feeling beyond apprehensive about the idea of it all. 

It wasn't because he didn't love his partners, quite the opposite actually. It was because he loved them so much that the thought of accidentally hurting them or cursing them with the same fate as himself or… worse…  would often send him into a spiral of anxiety, overthinking and self loathing.

But eventually after months of reassurance -and Barty pouting- Remus caved and agreed that the four of you should finally move in together.

So after weeks of searching for a home -which according to you and Barty felt like it was taking ‘fucking forever’- you finally found your perfect home and moved in as soon as possible. 

That was a few weeks ago now and last night was the first full moon in the new house. 

Yesterday before nightfall Remus was beyond terrified. 

His mind had been clouded with overthinking and the absolute worst scenarios his brain could manage all day.

So when he woke up still in the basement that he and your entire friend group had spent countless hours reinforcing and charming -to Remus’s standards and preferences of course- he was so grateful. 

So grateful in fact that he was able to be distracted by the pain in his body a few moments longer than normal.

But eventually the pain consumed his body like it normally did.

For what could have been a few minutes or a few hours -Remus wasn't really sure- he just laid there looking up at the ceiling of the basement basking in the pain that ran through his body and his normal post full moon self loathing. Just completely lost in his own mind that was until he was pulled out by the sound of your voice.

“Moons? Are you awake?”

The sound of your voice had involuntarily brought a smile to Remus’s face and sent a wave of calm and comfort over him.

“Yea I’m awake love.” Remus groaned while sitting up feeling a few of his joints popping and his muscles tensing up.

It didn't take long for him to hear the sound of your footsteps coming down the stairs with a hot cup of coffee -that you meticulously made sure was exactly to his liking- and his favorite blanket in hand. 

Both things Remus had gladly and gratefully accepted.

“We made breakfast, if you're up for it.”

The sweet softens off your voice was slightly interrupted by Regulus chuckling.

“And of course by ‘we’ Y/N means they did the majority of the cooking since we all know I can't cook to save my life and we value our health enough to not want a repeat of when Barty tried to cook dinner for us the other week.”

Remus couldn't help but laugh a little, no matter how much it hurt, when he heard a very dramatic gasp from Barty.

“I'll have you know Black that I'm an excellent cook, you're just too much of a prick to appreciate such perfection.”

Remus continued to chuckle at the very familiar childish bickering happening between two of his lovers. 

He was actually enjoying the small distraction so much that he didn't notice when you sat next to him until he felt your shoulder brush against him.

“How are you feeling really, Remus?”

Remus couldn't help the small sigh that escaped his lips when he heard your words. “As good as to be expected love… I'm just grateful I didn’t get out and hurt one of you or worse...” 

You sighed softly and looked at Remus with a soft and loving look in your eyes. “Remus, I know you're worried but this bassment is a fortress. We'll be fine.”

Though you sounded so sure in your words Remus still wasn't fully convinced. 

His mind was already starting to spiral at this point with the possibilities and of the dangers that he imposed on the three most important people in his life.

Remus hadn't even realized he was now staring off into the black abyss of his coffee cup that was currently warming his hands till you placed your hand on top of his gaining his full attention.

When Remus’s eyes met yours he couldn't deny the love and honesty that he saw swimming in them which made your next words comfort him.

“We are fine. We will be fine. I know your anxiety won't go away but you need to remember that you have done everything in your power to ensure our safety and that's all you can do. Plus you know better than anyone that the three of us are very skilled with our magic so we are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Not everything is on you Remus. We knew what we were signing up for when we asked for the four of us to move in together. We love you and everything will be fine I promise.”

Remus just sighed and nodded. 

A part of him honestly did feel better, he knew that he would never be a hundred percent comfortable for that one day a month but it made him feel better to know that you genuinely believed in your words and in him.

“Okay, I'll try to calm down more… I’m just so scared that I'm going to hurt one of you but I'll do my best to keep my anxiety at bay... Thank you, my love.”

Remus wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head just being happy in the moment.

Once a month he loathed his life.

But everyday before and after the full moon he genuinely loved his life.

Right now he loves his life.

He had one of his lovers in his arms while his other two lovers were ‘fighting’.

This is the life he will forever be truly grateful for.

. ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆₊☽ ◯ ☾. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° .

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged in a little while ago by the amazing @patolemus & @hellameyers 🤗

I'm currently working on editing chapter 5 of the poets are right, which I'll be posting in a couple of days - so here's a snippet from that!

-

“Did you think I was hot when we first met?” Stiles asks.

The huff of laughter that pushes out from between Derek’s smiling mouth is entirely ball-busted, and the tips of his ears quickly colour a soft red in the low, warm light of the room. Stiles’ lips pull into an instant grin back at him.

“Yeah,” Derek says.

“Really?” Stiles presses, finding way too much joy in this. “You thought I was a hot little piece of omega ass, right off the bat?”

“Really,” Derek echoes easily, one arm folding behind his head while the other skims light fingers up and down Stiles’ side. “It wasn’t so much a fight or flight instinct as it was a fight or... fuck.”

Barking out a loud laugh, Stiles gleefully peers up at him, at the easy confession of immediate attraction falling from Derek’s lips. His heartrate picks up excitedly as he wriggles closer into the solid heat of Derek’s body.

“Too bad the fight won out that time,” Stiles laments.

Derek hums, lifting a hand to cup gently at the back of Stiles’ neck.

“Too bad,” he agrees, before lifting both eyebrows. “Did you think I was hot when we first met?”

“Obviously,” Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I thought you were hot before we met, dude. You know that already.”

And he does. As embarrassing it was at the time to admit out loud, to the object of his one-sided affection for so many anonymous years, he did tell Derek. That particular secret was shared not too long into this thing between them, spilling all about this crush he has had ever since he first discovered photographs of the ultimate alpha heart-throb Derek Hale in some teen magazine or other.

Derek took it like a champ. Actually, he took it like an incredibly smug bastard – but that was only to be expected. Learning that the person you like just as much as they like you, has actually liked you a hell of a lot longer than you have even known that person existed, well... Stiles can see how something like that might go straight to your head.

Tamping down on the urge to swat that self-satisfied smirk right off of Derek’s face, Stiles settles on leaning up to kiss it into something more dazed and breathless, instead. When he pulls back, he feels a thrill of satisfaction at the utterly glazed over look in Derek’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Stiles lets himself continue, head tipping to one side. “If only you hadn’t gone and ruined it the first time you opened your mouth by being a fucking asshole.”

Derek breathes out yet another ball-busted laugh. His fingers slide through the short hairs at the back of Stiles’ head, nails scratching lightly into Stiles’ scalp, as he takes the – entirely true, and entirely deserved – insult on the chin. He quickly lists forwards to kiss Stiles yet again, softly and soundly.

“I like to think I’ve made up for it since then,” he says quietly.

-

Low pressure tags ❤️ @dear-massacre @eevylynn @evanesdust @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop

@raisesomehale @renmackree @thotpuppy @violetfairydust @quackquackcey

[midnight1nk]

⭐️A few days ago...⭐️

Wow, what a wholesome episode! "The rosemary to my bread", dude, I hope my future partner will say that to me one day. Now that I had my weekly dose of silly, time to check the Puzzlevision website! Eh, I bet it's going to be the same as...

[*SCREAMING*]

WOTFI 2024 PREDICTIONS REVISITED

⚠️ DISCLAIMER IN INTRO POST ⚠️

An eye for an eye...

How are we feeling, SMG4 fandom? It's that time of year and many have speculated about WOTFI as well as what might come afterwards. Myself included with my previous theory posts, suspecting that something big is guaranteed to happen. And we didn't have to wait long.

On the 14th of September, just a few days ago, the channel's latest episode, 'SMG4 and SMG3 come up with an episode' was released. But what truly made the fandom lose their mind was the sudden change of the Puzzlevision website. If you need a refresher, here is what it looked like before:

It had:

[puzzlevision.tv] being the site title and URL

Mr Puzzles' logo

A central image that transitioned between a webp to a gif file and vice versa on certain occasions

(after choosing Save As option) the image already labeled as Now Airing

Now, there was talk about this that wasn't left originally, stating that the image (that used to be larger) now had a black border around it. At least, at the time. As someone who has worked with web design, there's actually a number of reasons why this is.

Depending on the resolution/zoom setting on your device, it might alter the site's layout.

As said earlier, the image alternated between a gif to a webp. All websites require a background color underneath all of its assets so the change in image/file size may have shrunk than what was originally. Especially if you are attempting to make it look seamless between the transitions.

Long story short, It's simply how web layouts are: formatting gets a bit wonky from time to time.

Anyway, as I already mentioned, the website has changed to this,

(supposedly someone said the password was "carnival")

Then, to this:

Changes include:

The title "War of the Fat Italians 2024" with a similar URL [www.wotfi2024.com]

SMG4 logo

A whole new layout design (obviously) which just gives off 'Greatest Showman' energy

And now we've come to the present day: fans have already submitted their minigame challenges and preparing for a carnival-themed adventure. For me and other theorists, though, we're having a field day. From the clues I gathered on the website and a few past episodes, I might be able to put together what the channel has for us this year. Let's revisit my "WOTFI 2024 Predictions"!

I already covered a lot in depth in my "Puzzlevision 2: Now Airing" theory [link] and I'll be referring back to it here, so I recommend looking it over if you haven't already.

THE WEBSITE

I was honestly surprised that I was right about a couple of things. The main one being about the website itself.

The people behind SMG4 didn’t need to put this image in, they didn’t need to keep this website on. But they did.

Well, past Ink, you nailed it. And according to Cube (FM), this is the same website host.

"don't read into it too much"

Cube, with everything going on, I might as well interrogate a website for memes' sake.

Wait, what's wrong with it?

The fact that the website is used for WOTFI of all things is what's so strange. All the previous WOTFI'S asked the fans to submit their challenges through the comment section or social media. No other option was involved until now.

Maybe they wanted to try something different like what they did for WOTFI 2023?

That's a good point. It was stated that they wanted to be more experimental with their episodes. But even then, the '23 stream they hosted was on their channel, on Youtube.

Maybe they didn't want it to go to waste? After all, sites can be expensive.

Again, it's a good point. Depending on the domain they used and the apps connected to the site, it can be costly. However, I do want to iterate what I said earlier: they didn't need to keep this website up. Better yet, if they didn't want to raise any flags, why not keep the site how it originally was with the "That's all folks!" image? Why the change? Which brings us to our next point,

WHO IS THE REAL SMG4?

Let me explain...

After the change of the website, we got this post,

This brings up a lot of questions:

Who sent the letter?

If we can assume that's Four's hand, why did the post say "you" as if there is a narrator?

If Four had no idea about a carnival coming to town, then why would he ask us to submit challenges for a carnival he's supposedly hosting?

Well, they're pretty easy to answer. We already established that Marty would come back to be the most likely antagonist for WOTFI. I mean, this cardboard cutout managed to own a pizza shop, a casino, an airline company, and a spaghetti sauce brand. It wouldn't be a surprise if he also happened to own a carnival. But as I said in previous theories, Marty isn't working alone.

He's working with Mr Puzzles.

Mr Puzzles was the one who sent the letter to SMG4 just as he did for Wren in Western Spaghetti. It hasn't exactly shown if the letter had his seal on it. Not that it needs to anyway, they would recognize his logo and know they can't trust what's inside this envelope.

Remember how I said in my previous theory that one of the ways Mr Puzzles could control SMG4 was for our blue meme lord to be his eyes and ears? In the latest episode, SMG3 comes up with the idea of a carnival coming to the showgrounds for a week, and SMG4 wanting to go on the baby teacup ride.

Mr Puzzles was there, listening to every word they said to each other. He has been since "SMG4: Inside Out".

Could it just be purely by coincidence and just something out of improv? Sure, the SMG4 & SMG3 side episodes aren't really connected to canon. But like, c'mon, the channel knew what they were doing. Everything has to be put into consideration.

If that's true, the narrator could be Mr Puzzles, the second voice inside his head. Or, for those who love the goop!4 theory, the voice could be the demonic goo slowly taking over.

Now, back to the post!Four and site!Four. If we can assume the Four from the post is our Four, then the one impersonating Four would be Mr Puzzles, once again controlling the events in WOTFI. This time, using his website. Like Cube said, Mr Puzzles is the same website host as before. Also, look at these two:

It would be too obvious if we see a PNG of Mr Puzzles on the website again so why not impersonate his narrative foil. Well, at least look dapper while you're at it.

Or, even better, Four does know about the carnival but either the goo or Mr Puzzles are erasing certain memories.

A GAME OF WITS

Speaking of the website, let's analyze the description:

Step right up, WOTFI is coming to town and we need your challenges but this time...WITH A TWIST! We're doing a carnival theme this year and we want challenges named like a minigame and a description of what they are! For example "Whack a Bob - Who can smash bob with a hammer first?" OR "Pizza Pie Peril- Survive giant pizza's raining form the sky' Guidelines - Please only 1 challenge per person - Nothing inappropriate - Please add your internet profile name in the 'name' field below Thank you and see you soon!!! -SMG4

Carnival theme, huh?

Well, last year's theme made sense. Three's notebook was stolen and was risked of getting leaked. With the casino being heavily guarded, Four and Three had to sneak in. A secret mission to take back a secretive object.

If this WOTFI has Marty and Mr Puzzles working together, then It would make sense for a businessman and an entertainer would come up with something like a carnival. The best of two worlds: fun and capitalism. Besides, the Showgrounds would be a perfect place to host it since it used to be an abandoned carnival and Mr Puzzles having something to do with the land ownership.

[SMG4: Our New Home // timestamp: 5:38]

Now, what is peculiar is the use of the term "minigame".

Ink, it's a carnival. You have to stick to the theme of carnival rides and games.

Fair, but this is WOTFI we're talking about here. If you win a challenge, you get closer to the end and win a point for your side. For WOTFI '23, every choice impacted the story and therefore the ending. If the SMG4 crew plays and wins these minigames, what do they get in return? And if they lose, would there be a punishment?

It will entirely depend on how WOTFI would play out, in three scenarios:

Marty is revealed to be behind the carnival at the beginning of WOTFI and the Crew learns that, in order to reach him, they have to win some mini-games.

Marty isn't revealed until the near end. The Crew only came because they wanted to have some fun for the day but learned that this was a sort of trap created by Marty (along with Mr Puzzles but they don't know that yet).

OR BONUS SECRET OPTION Both Marty and Mr Puzzles revealed themselves to be the ones hosting the carnival, meaning it's less likely that Puzzlevision 2 would happen unless something else happens.

Then, there is the phrase "WITH A TWIST". Sure, it could mean that it would be different than our regular old WOTFI, just as it happened in 2023. But WOTFI 2023 also revealed the twist that Mr Puzzles was actually the one orchestrating the whole thing, sending the fax to Marty about the secret recipe and his theme scattered in the background in multiple episodes. We might get a twist by the end of this year's WOTFI as well. Bonus points if we hear a version of his theme again.

Back in my Puzzlevision 2 theory, I predicted that the final battle with Mr Puzzles would happen back where it all started. With the carnival coming into the Showgrounds, it comes back full circle.

ONE STEP CLOSER

There isn't much to change from what I predicted:

Karen would be a key character for WOTFI this year. Maybe Karen just wanted her kids to have fun for the day, or even the corporation, her former workplace, gave her a tip that Marty would be there.

The Crew would have to find Marty's absolute weakness since he's technically invincible.

And possibly Pedro coming back to assist the Crew somehow.

But now I have a new prediction, based on the latest episode:

SMG4's and SMG3's relationship would change to a whole new level. That Four may need Three for something or if Three realizes something about himself, it would change their dynamic regardless.

It's really similar to how it was for WOTFI 2023 with small bits here and there all coming back to a single episode. (The notebook, the duo's meme guardian powers, Four's forklift, Three moving out of the Internet Graveyard, etc.)

It's still too early to confirm anything, but at the very least, we now have some idea what WOTFI may be about as well as evidence to back up some of my theories.

Will we get goop!4? God, I wish. I was listening to "Friends on the Other Side" and I was just imagining scenarios of Mr Puzzles taking complete control of Four with the goo. If it doesn't happen for whatever reason, I'll write it myself.

Oh well, we would just have to wait and see. In the meantime, that’s just a theory…

AN SMG4 THEORY

🎶Thanks for dropping by🎶

[catboygretzky]

Do I even want to know what happened in the last 24 hours 😭 I'm almost afraid to ask but I'm also insanely curious

You probably don't want to know but I'll tell you because you have no choice. This will be long and...awful. But there are sources so that's fun! Please keep in mind that this was all released within 24 hours on Thursday, September 20th, 2024 and that, unfortunately, I haven't mentioned everything.

But! The GOP was certainly having a wild one yesterday.

To start things off:

The first 'Big News' to break was about Mark Robinson.

For those saying 'who the fuck is Mark Robinson', he's the current (R) Lt. Gov of North Carolina that is running for Gov. Before yesterday, he was best known for openly hating LGBT+ and Jewish folks, being a Holocaust denier, being (forcefully) anti abortion, saying it was better when women couldn't vote, anti immigrant, hating the civil rights movement, etc, just being a hateful Evangelical nasty fascist. MAGA to his core. Trump has endorsed him, saying he should be cherished and calling him "MLK on steroids". (Robinson is Black).

So, yeah, that's bad enough right? Yesterday it got even worse. CNN released a report about some comments he made on a porn site forum 12 years ago, the most prominent being 'i'm a black NAZI'. He also commented that he wished slavery was legal and that he'd own a few, and called himself a 'perv' that used to 'peep' on women in public locker rooms when he was a teenager.

Also the tale as old as time that I'm sure you could guess when I mentioned 'GOP' 'loudly transphobic' and 'porn site scandal' - trans porn was a favourite of his. Because of course.

Also of course - the GOP hasn't taken him off the ticket, and he will continue to be the nominee for governor in North Carolina!

Read the article, there's more about him and the situation in general. Mind the warnings.

-

Now on to our favourite worm brained bear eating anti vaxxer conspiracy theorist, Robert F. Kennedy Junior! I'm putting this under a read more now.

The first thing to drop about him yesterday was the news of an investigation after he allegedly cut off the head of a dead whale and took it home 20 years ago. Now I bet you're thinking, wow that's bad! Unfortunately for RFK Jr yesterday got worse. It was then revealed that he (70) was having an affair with right wing journalist Olivia Nuzzi (31) after New York Magazine suspended her.

Everything I learn about RFK Jr I learn against my own will.

-

Saying goodbye to RFK for now, let's move on to Rep. Matt Gaetz of Florida! This Matt Gaetz, with the botox if you didn't recognise him.

Scary lookin, right?

This isn't a completely new story (here's an article about how he alledgedly paid for sex with a minor) but new court filings were released yesterday alledging that he attended a drug-fueled sex party in 2017 with the 17-year-old girl at the center of the alleged sex trafficking scandal.

Sure is great to have such trustworthy men representing this country!

OKAY, on to the next.

-

This wasn't really breaking news because this is just Trump being Trump but he gave a speech at an ANTI ANTISEMITISM EVENT where he preemptively blamed the Jews for being the reason he'll lose this election, telling them they need to get their head checked if they vote for Harris (that's pretty much part of his stump speech by now though) and saying he'll reinstate his Muslim ban. White fascist blaming Jews? Wow, I did Nazi that coming.

-

I genuinely could go on, I really truly could.

Oh! Kamala Harris went on Oprah and it was really nice and not at all insane and she talked to the family of the first known victim of Trump's abortion ban and it was very touching. Trump's official social media then posted a clip of her talking about her gun and saying 'If somebody breaks into my house, they're getting shot' like it was a snatch when in reality Republicans in the comments are saying 'actually, this would make me vote for her'. Thanks, Trump Team for the free advertising!

Misc:

Chris Rufo (known racist and anti immigration right wing activist) got revealed to have an illegal immigrant wife, and then got revealed to be a user of Ashley Madison (database where people go to cheat on their partners)(Robinson was also on Ashley Madison).

Jasmine Crockett during her thing and ripping white republicans to shreds. (idk this was just fun to me)

Actually Republicans and Project 2025 got ripped to shreds and shut down in general by multiple Congress members.

GOP is on the brink of causing a government shutdown, because of COURSE they are.

Cards Against Humanity sues SpaceX over “invasion” of land on US/Mexico border.

Anyway there's actually MORE believe it or not but I can't remember if it happened yesterday. Thank you for reading, I'm always open to discussing current events. I don't think it's a well known fact that I'm into politics because I don't talk about it on tumblr because people are kinda stupid. Anyway!

[snek-panini]

Today's completed book is a bind of Glimmer, by @tawnyontumblr (hi, it's me, the person who asked to bind your story way back in April). This story is a Good Omens human au about sex workers in the Regency era, and it's gorgeous and lush and fantastic. Sexy and vulnerable and all the good adjectives. Go read it if you haven't yet, it's wonderful.

This is another legal-size quarto, my second (of 4; more are on the way). It really is an addictive size, and perfect for fics this length. The cover is done in this really pretty red damask lokta paper that highlights different parts of the image depending on the angle of the light. I was toying with the idea of binding this fic, and when I found this paper I immediately bumped it up the list because it's so perfect. The spine is dark gray lineco book cloth that I simply cannot resist putting on spines. I realize this is a pattern and I do not care. It's softer visually than black and it coordinates with everything and I will not stop.

More photos under the cut!

What did I tell you, it coordinates with everything. I used silver foil HTV for the title, and I elected to put it just on the spine so as not to cover up any of the floral patterns on the cover. Honestly, I thought about it but just couldn't bring myself to cover it up. The interior of this one has some very fancy fonts and I wanted one for the spine but they were all too spindly. But this one's a good compromise, I think. Delicate but straightforward.

Top view. I really wanted to do custom end bands for this one, for maximum luxury, but it was too thin, so it has pre-made black ones. They sort of disappear in the photos but make a nice contrast in person. I am totally in love with the starry endpapers even though they are only scrapbook paper from Joann's. It was surprisingly difficult to find something that looked good with the red cover, because plain solid colors looked too lackluster and most prints were too bold with the floral, not to mention a lot of colors clashed with the red. But I love these gray-on-gray stars. They're perfect. And a lot of the fic takes place under cover of darkness, and stars are a symbol of hope, and this fic's about wanting to escape your current circumstances, so it's kind of thematically appropriate. I'm going to say it is, anyway XD

So I think the title page is my favorite part of the bind again. I found this vintage valentine graphic on rawpixel for free and it's probably the most opulent thing in the whole typeset. The sort of uneven ink distribution is on purpose and adds to the vintage feel. I remember thinking about a year ago that my title pages were too plain and I needed to level them up somehow, and with the batch of binds I've been posting for the last week or two I think I've done it. The fonts here are called Annabel (the one with the trailing ends) and Victorian Decade (the swirly one that my bindery name is in). Both are available for free from DaFont. I did have to get a little tricky with the line spacing to get them to print correctly, but it was worth it. I wanted opulence for this one.

And that's that! I hope I did the fic justice, because I couldn't be more pleased with the outcome.

[lostloveletters]

This Must Be The Place (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Home is a place, and a person, and a strange thing to navigate when Brady’s been away from his for so long, and Woody’s never quite had one.

Note: I really missed writing for Brady and Woody, I'm sorry it's been so long! I was thinking I'd have this done like a week ago, but then I got stuck on a scene and had to rewrite some things. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Some angst.

‘I’m coming home. Woody will be with me. We’re getting married.’ 

John’s letter home, sent just before their departure from England, hadn’t been that short, but the message was clear enough that by the time they were Stateside, his mother had called—paid the long distance charges and all—just to speak to him after years of anxious writing. He choked up when he heard his mother’s voice again after so long, handing the phone to Woody so he could compose himself when he felt the conversation getting away from him.

Woody’s semi-frequent correspondence with his mother, particularly after his father died, put her in her good graces, as she found the letters odd yet charming. She especially appreciated the photo of the two of them that Woody included in one of her letters—which must have been from the party for Dye’s crew when they completed their 25th mission, since she was actually wearing her WAC uniform instead of her typical coveralls in it. ‘I thought it was from a movie magazine!’ his mother gushed to him in the letter that followed.

Looking at that photo, framed and displayed on the slightly yellowing floral-patterned wall along with decades’ worth of memories, from his parents’ wedding to his childhood with his brother, made him more certain of his future with Woody than ever. 

He pulled his pipe from his mouth and sighed. Being home without his father around made him feel a bit unsettled, even though he had been greeted with hugs and kisses from just about every one of his relatives at the door. His father had been their rock, the one who kept it all together, the kind of husband and father he aspired to be someday. Turning around to look at his fiance, he tried to see her through his father’s eyes, and quickly determined he would have liked her, there was no way he couldn’t have.

Woody cleaned up damn well when she wanted to, her blonde hair had been in hot rollers and then painstakingly styled early in the morning, before they took the train into town, his brother Gene waiting at the station to drive them to Victor. She scrounged up the money to buy a new dress from a department store for the occasion—midnight blue, loose-fitting, ‘Something I can move in,’ she had told him. John wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing her legs like that. Throughout the evening, his eyes drifted to the soft, flowing hem around her knees as each of his relatives fawned over her.

It wasn’t necessarily eavesdropping, not when aunts and uncles and cousins clamored over each other to speak to his future bride, who bashfully accepted their compliments and patiently entertained their questions.

“You’re from San Diego, aren’t you?”

“San Francisco, actually, but I’ve been all over.”

“San Francisco! It must be so sleepy up here to you!”

“Oh, I’m just glad to be wherever John is,” she said, glancing over at him almost shyly. “We could end up in Alaska for all I care.”

Her story of how they met won them over. The twinkle in her eye when his relatives gasped and crossed themselves when she told them of his crash landing upon arrival at Thorpe Abbotts—a detail he omitted in his letters home, it only would have been a source of unnecessary anxiety back then, but humorous and exciting in hindsight.

She’d ridden up to the wreckage of a well-executed emergency belly-landing in the truck with Ken Lemmons and the rest of the available ground crew, ready to get to work once he examined the damage. In the middle of Ken’s quick and astoundingly accurate assessment—’It really wasn’t that bad,’ she assured his enraptured family—she introduced herself to the fort’s pilot, mentioning to them how handsome she found then-Lieutenant John Brady when she first saw him.

“Love at first sight,” one of his younger cousins gasped.

“Something like that.” Woody said, light laughter in her voice. “After a while, I realized the progress on the plane wasn’t all he was interested in when he came around the hangar to watch me work.”

Their eyes met from across the modest living room’s threshold, sharing private smiles as if the dozens of people crammed inside all disappeared. 

“Can you blame me?” he finally said.

Everyone had something to say after that, all clamoring to get their two-cents in. One of his uncles patted his shoulder, "You picked a good one."

He grinned—he sure did.

The sentiment was reiterated as the larger group dispersed throughout the house. He managed to slip into the dining room to make a plate of what was left of the hors d'oeuvres his mother had set out. Cheese and crackers, some cold cuts, too. Didn't realize how much he missed things like that, savoring each bite as he stood near the kitchen, watching Woody with one of his aunts.

She slouched a bit, withered compared to how she had been entertaining everyone in the living room. 

“A lady mechanic,” his aunt marveled, “you know I can hardly believe it, but I’m sure you showed those boys a thing or two.”

“I was just glad I could do my part,” Woody said, the canned answer acceptably modest.

“Your family must be so proud of you.”

Her strained smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My parents are, um—“

“Aunt Del, I think I heard my mother asking for you,” John interrupted, setting his plate down.

“Oh, I better go see, then. Lovely talking to you, dear,” she said, patting Woody’s arm before departing the kitchen.

Woody leaned against the counter, audibly sighing in relief. She fought to blink away her exhaustion, traveling into town in the morning to keep up a facade through the evening, wanting so desperately to make a good first impression on his family, the agreeable, lovely future in-law they all wanted.

He moved in front of her, shielding her from any nosy relatives who might poke their heads in, looking for her. 

“You saved me,” she said.

“She shouldn’t be bringing it up anyway," he said. "I know my mother told them—"

"It’s a practice run for the wedding.”

“We could elope. Go to the courthouse first thing in the morning…”

She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes darting all over the room before bringing her attention back to him. "No, we couldn't," she said with finality. "It wouldn't be fair to them."

But it'd be nice. Shorten the list of things they had to worry about, though it'd just as quickly put her on his family's shit list as she managed to get in their good graces over the course of an afternoon. It almost felt too easy. Maybe that was what everyone wanted after everything that happened over the past few years, glad to finally have John home and willing to overlook any reservations about the woman he brought home with him.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?” he asked, gently tugging on the hem of her dress and pulling her from her thoughts.

“I feel naked without trousers on.”

“I wish you were.”

She tapped his chest with the back of her hand. “Watch it, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry we have to stay here.”

“Why?”

He nodded toward the crowded living room. “Lack of privacy, for starters.”

She shook her head, echoing her earlier sentiment. “I’m just glad to be with you.”

“As soon as we’re both working, we’ll start looking for a place. Maybe an apartment to start.”

“Your family would be okay with that?” she asked. “Us living together?”

“Probably not, but we’re engaged at least, and after the past two years, I don’t want to be without you again.”

“Me either.”

They spent the following half hour or so hiding in the kitchen before his relatives began filtering out, leaving them with hugs and well-wishes and promises to invite them over for lunch or dinner sometime. 

"Woody, it was great meeting you," Gene said, giving her a hug. "Keep an eye on this one, he might not look it, but he can be trouble."

"I'm enough trouble for the both of us, believe me," she said, retreating back to John's side.

The house was soon empty, save for the three of them, sitting in the living room with the radio playing softly in the background of the conversation between John and his mother.

Even though she brewed some coffee for them, Woody could hardly keep her eyes open. She nodded off for a moment, her mug nearly slipping from her hands.

"John, the poor thing is exhausted. Why don't you show her upstairs while I clean up? I made up your brother's old room for her."

"Thank you," Woody said. "Really, for letting me stay here. I can pay you rent, or—"

"Please, you're almost family now. And I trust you both to…" his mother struggled to find the words, almost flustered, and Woody tried her best to contain a snicker, "mind yourselves."

"Woody keeps me honest," he lied.

"Alright," she conceded with a smile. "Good night you two."

As soon as they were upstairs, they wasted no time in shoving into the bathroom together—a tight squeeze, but more than fine by them. Their respective nighttime routines peppered with kisses and soft touches while teeth were brushed and faces were washed, practically pressed against one another while sharing the limited sink space. 

They paused to look at themselves in the mirror on the wall, a domestic portrait staring back at them. He pressed his lips just below her ear, settling his chin on her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist from behind. 

Whenever she blinked, she expected it to be a dream she would wake up from, back in the barracks at Thorpe Abbotts, waiting for him to come back, worrying incessantly. But she put her hands over his and squeezed gently. Real, warm, loving. Always loving.

"I wish we didn't have to sleep in separate rooms," she mumbled.

"We'll be fine," he said. "It won't be for too long, anyway."

She wanted to say something—that it was ridiculous, they were adults for crying out loud. And after everything he especially had been through, couldn't there have been some grace, some wiggle room, all things considered? But it'd been clear through the way his family interacted with him throughout the day that they didn't know nearly as much about it as she did. Even then, there were things he kept to himself, things she'd probably never know.

Feeling almost useless, she turned around, pressing her lips to his, hoping he knew everything she couldn't say was in that kiss, in the way her blunt nails tenderly scratched his jaw. "I'll see you in the morning."

The hallway was short, the room easy enough to find with Woody's two suitcases sitting neatly next to the door, Gene having brought them up for her once they got to the house, encouraging her to unpack after the party, 'Make yourself at home.' She hesitated, more than used to living out of the two suitcases and not having much to her name anyway. She was careful when she set one of them on the bed, digging through for pajamas, a satin set consisting of an olive green camisole, matching robe, and loose, flowy pants with lace detailing around the cuffs. John bought it for her when they were in Manhattan, insisting his family would think he wasn't taking good care of her if she puttered around in her old PT shirt and men's pajama bottoms. Felt like they spent half the money they had on hand to buy new clothes, so they'd be real people and blend in with all the rest. 

His mother made up the room beautifully for Woody—the soft, worn linens smelled faintly of detergent, but mostly of home, something she heard plenty of people refer to when the scent of a certain blend of tobacco or freshly cut grass was in the air, but never quite understood until she got under the covers and immediately thought of John.

Settling on her side, she stared at the wall between them, like if she looked at it long enough, she'd be able to see through it, see him. One measly wall, nothing compared to two years and thousands of miles, but she still missed him terribly.

She wrapped her arms around her middle in a weak attempt to comfort herself and closed her eyes. She couldn't find sleep behind them despite her earlier exhaustion, her racing thoughts keeping her awake.

The door creaked open, and she sat up on her elbows, brows furrowed in confusion until John closed the door behind him.

“Are you out of your mind? Your mother could come up here any minute and—“

“It’s not that…I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed. They’d spent the past few weeks practically attached at the hip, from the time he arrived back at Thorpe Abbotts, on the ship from England to New York, to the guilty weekend in a Manhattan hotel room. Even in the familiar walls of his childhood bedroom, he tossed and turned when left to face the night alone.

“Oh, Johnny,” she cooed, extending her arms to him. “Come here.”

He curled up into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She silently cradled him until she felt hot tears on her skin.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly.

“‘m sorry."

“Don’t ever apologize. I love you.”

“I love you.” He held her tighter, the way he would cling to a teddy bear when he was a boy, too young to face his fears on his own but too old to seek the comfort of his parents for it. “I love you so much.”

In an attempt to calm him down, she stroked his hair. It wouldn’t look great, his mother finding them entangled in bed together or catching him sneaking out of her room. She didn’t seem like an unreasonable woman, though. Surely she would understand that seeking comfort wasn’t a sin—nothing they did was, not when there was love at the root of it all.

“Go to sleep,” Woody whispered, though she could tell by his steady breathing he already was. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

[amiti-art]

HI! I’m here to ask honest opinion on….Lore Olympus. I’m sorry for putting my opinion here….but I hate it. I’m sorry, I try to see it in a good way….put it paints Apollo as a horrible person. And there are other things that I’d respectfully don’t like about it.However, I want to see your opinion. That is if you’re willing to share it. BTW, I fricking love your drawings., especially the ones about Apollo and his myths! Have a good day or night!

Hello!

I'm glad you like my art 🫶🏻

So, Lore Olympus.

This probably won't come as a surprise to most people, considering how much Apollo art I've made, but I hate Lore Olympus. And not only because of how poorly Apollo was portrayed there.

I'm going to be honest with you: I never read much of it. I read maybe a few chapters some years ago because it was advertised as Greek mythology retelling, but I didn't continue because it was boring to me.

Much later, I saw a lot of posts pointing out all the things wrong with Lore Olympus, and boy oh boy, it's bad.

From what I've seen, it’s hardly a retelling; if the names of the characters were changed, nobody would realize this is supposed to be myth-inspired.

And look, I'm not saying you can't change anything when making a Greek mythology retelling, because it's simply impossible to keep everything the same as in the myths—especially when you want to create a story that covers many myths. The math isn't mathing when it comes to Greek mythology, because the myths changed over time, and different city-states had their own versions of the stories, so it's pretty impossible to make a cohesive timeline without changing something.

But from what I've seen, there isn't much Greek influence in this Greek mythology retelling. From the way the characters dress and speak to the food they eat, there is nothing Greek about this comic, it’s completely Americanized.

And I hate Americanization so much. I remember watching Netflix's "The Witcher" and being so disappointed because there was nothing Slavic about it. They kept Jaskier's original name from the books and called it a day. They turned it into another generic fantasy show.

I know that many Greek people feel the same way about Lore Olympus and other American adaptations of their myths. I love Percy Jackson, but the whole "gods moved to the USA because this is where Western civilization is" is just so icky to me. Greece still exists, hello??????

Back to Lore Olympus. For some reason it's fans think that the comic is a valid source for mythology, and they spread so much misinformation.

For the last time: Persephone was abducted in the myths. There is no version where she goes to the Underworld on her own.

Demeter is a heartbroken mother looking for her beloved daughter, not some evil helicopter parent standing between Persephone and her happiness. Justice for Apollo and Demeter.

Also, Persephone is sometimes drawn like a child and looks more like Hades' daughter than his wife. Why?????

And from what I've seen, Persephone is ridiculously powerful for some reason and fights Kronos or something???????

Also, apparently, Leto is portrayed as a manipulative mother????? Leto??? The Titan goddess of motherhood??? Why????

I don't understand why this comic got so popular, to be honest. Probably because of the artstyle.

[spiderbeam]

🎧+carlos+24

🎧 — ¿con quién se queda el perro? (“who is the dog staying with?”) by jesse y joy

a/n: it’s 1:50 am as i’m posting this && it turned out much longer than i expected so…. prepare for angst and enjoy <3

The first thought that crosses your mind as you’re walking across your flat to open the door is that this feels weird. No matter how much you try to push it away, you can’t help it. It’s weird, hearing him knock on the door. You don’t understand why that’s the thing has thrown you off most during a week like this. It’s not the piles of boxes, or the bed that is only half-undone, the emptied drawers, the missing pictures, the packed-up racing simulator. It’s him knocking.

He has a key. He has one, because he hasn’t yet given it to you. Because you still can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

The door creaks open, and you’re met by Carlos’ tired brown eyes. His hair looks messy, his complexion paler than it should. He hasn’t been sleeping well.

To be fair, neither have you.

“Hi,” he says quietly, eyes searching your face. You can’t look much better than him.

“Hi,” you repeat, opening the door wider for him.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, shuffling besides you and into the apartment he used to call home.

“The bed isn’t that bad,” you say. Even though you aren’t here. The thought comes to you unbidden. It makes a sourness seep into your mouth.

You close the door behind you. He stands a respectful distance from you, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And that distance… it’s too far away, but not enough altogether. Too close, too distant.

The two of you linger there, in a silence that seems to stretch between the two of you. There’s a ghost of laughter, of kisses and promises whispered against your lips. Of fingers toying with his hair and murmurs pressed against your navel.

You don’t remember the last time silence stretched like this between the two of you.

“I will be quick,” Carlos promises quietly.

“You don’t have to be,” you respond, and you can see his brown eyes soften. What’s done is done, you have to remind yourself. You made your choice. But there’s a tenderness for Carlos that you’ll never be able to shed. There’s a room in your heart for him—he made home of it years ago. It will take time for him to vacate it—longer than it will your apartment.

Carlos nods eventually, letting his gaze scour your flat. It feels hollow. A phantom. You had grown used to an empty apartment. With Carlos’ line of work, it was near impossible to have him with you for longer stretches of time. You thought you could bear it—seeing him once, twice a week, maybe less. You thought the breaks between races could make up for an empty bed. You thought you would learn to cope with it. That missing him would make being with him all the better. You thought you could learn.

But he loves being a driver too much. And when he told you about Ferrari not renewing his contract for next year, an ugly, venomous thing started festering in your heart. Maybe he won’t drive next season. It was a seed of hope tangled with a blooming selfishness. Because you weren’t sad, you weren’t angry, you weren’t sympathetic—you were relieved. Relieved at the possibility that your boyfriend could be at the end of his career.

And what an ugly, awful thing that is to think about the person you love. And while that rotting hope wasn’t the first sign, it was definitely the last one you needed.

Carlos loves driving. It comes at the cost of him being away more often than not.

You couldn’t keep living like this.

Carlos runs his hand down the line of his jaw. He does it when he’s anxious, frustrated. He doesn’t meet your gaze when he says: “A few reporters might reach out to you.” You don’t mention the fact that they already have. Your spam folder is not large enough. “I will—I will make sure someone from my team helps you out with that. But if you want someone else, I can arrange—“

“Thank you,” you say, a murmur, barely audible in itself. But the silence is heavy, and the way his lips press together tells you he heard you.

“I wanted—“

“Do you—“

And the silence snaps back into place near immediately, eyes staring at each other with something you can’t seem to place. Familiarity that borders on unfamiliar. You’ve known him for ten years, loved him for nine, dated him for eight. There are traces of Carlos carved into every edge of your life. He knows you better than you know yourself. And when the words can’t seem to dislodge from your throat, you know he can tell. You swallow, and instead nudge your head towards the door on your left. Carlos nods tightly, and leads first into what used to be your shared bedroom.

You follow behind him, almost hesitantly. He’s big—he blocks most of your view when you step back in. You almost wish he did entirely. But the moment he moves even slightly to the side, you want to shove him out of the room. You hadn’t realized just how exposed, how bare it would make you feel.

Your side of the bed is tidy, blankets straight without a wrinkle in sight. His side—

His side is messy, with blankets strewn together and his pillow halfway on the floor. You look away too quickly, but your heart stammers at the idea that the outline of you is still visible on the mattress.

He probably noticed it the second he stepped inside. You avert your gaze, looking up at the ceiling. But you can feel Carlos’ stare burning onto the side of your cheek.

You’re not sure what compelled you to sleep on his side of the bed. He rarely ever slept here at all—and when he did, the two of you would end up tangled together, meeting each other in the middle of the mattress. His pillow wouldn’t even smell like him.

Even then, it’s hard to imagine he won’t be here anymore. That you won’t be falling asleep knowing he’s coming back.

You clear your throat. It feels scratchy. “Um, I’ll be in the kitchen if you—“

“You don’t have to leave,” Carlos says, a little too quickly. He swallows sharply. “It’s your apartment. You shouldn’t be…” he trails off, his big brown eyes meeting yours. You nod in understanding.

You stand off to the side while Carlos rummages through the dresser. With his back turned towards you, you take the chance to steady yourself. Breathe in. Breathe out. You knew this would be hard. You knew. It doesn’t make it easier.

You remember the headlines from the day the news broke. Convertidos en extraños muy cordiales. It still makes your skin crawl.

Strangers. You’ve been a part of each other’s lives for a decade. You don’t remember what not knowing Carlos feels like.

He moves away from the dresser and towards his side of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turning slightly towards you.

He thinks you don’t notice it. He thinks you’re looking away when he opens the drawer of his nightstand. He thinks you don’t notice the small, velvet box he pulls out and shoves into his pocket. It wouldn’t matter, anyway—you found it two nights ago.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

This time you do look away, cheek muscle trembling as you force yourself to bite down any tears.

It was a mutual decision. It’s what you told the press, what you told your friends, what you told yourself. It’s the truth.

It stings anyway.

The two of you are leave the bedroom eventually, one after the other. It’s the last time he’ll be in here like this. Your vision blurs. You’ll have to sell the bed. Get a smaller one. You blink the tears away.

Carlos runs a hand through his hair. He tugs too hard, and you nearly reach for his hand. The chide rests on your tongue—you need to be more gentle with yourself. You swallow the words, but they stick to the back of your throat.

Carlos sighs. “Princesa—” It slipped out. He didn’t mean to call you that—you can tell by the way his shoulders tense, how his whole body seems to lock into place. There’s a flicker of panic, of anguish in his expression. He clicks his tongue, tugs on his hair too roughly again, and swallows whatever it was he intended to say.

Instead, Carlos hands you something, and for a moment, you think it’s the ring.

It hurts. Your friends told you the pain would dull with time. You wouldn’t say yes, you realize, even if he pulled the ring now. You’ve spent more nights alone than beside him during the past year. You’ve fallen asleep alone in a cold, empty bed more often than not. You love him—you do. A part of you fears you always will. Saying no would hurt just as much.

The cold metal presses against your palm. It’s not an engagement ring.

It’s his key.

You look up at him. His throat bobs and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out to you.

He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and your voice breaks at the end.

He nods his head, looking away. His eyes look glassy.

“Me too.”

eve’s 1k celebration 🎧

a/n: godd this song was such a throwback,,, i managed to sneak more than a few lyrics (many translated ones & one in spanish) in there so those that get it…. yknow. really really really recommend listening to the song even if you don’t speak spanish!!! spotify gives you the option to read the lyrics in english so u definitely should give it a listen <3

[chronicsyd]

Actually, I’ve got a few redactions + Add on's about the long ass post on the S2 trailer I made a couple weeks ago.

So while I still think Vi painted the gauntlets black to disguise herself, I’m thinking the fight with Warwick damages them again because when Vi’s with Ekko here, they are different than how they first appeared. So Ekko and Heimerdinger could repair them before fighting Ambessa, also it would partially explain why he's here fighting with her at all (so to the anon that asked, yes i do agree that Ekko/Heimerdinger probably fixed them)

I’ve been seeing posts about Jinx kinda sorta “adopting” a kid in the new season (you can kinda see them in that clip with Smeech attacking Sevika) and there’s the scene with Undercity people surrounding Jinx having blue hair so my thoughts are now leaning more towards that this is that child in question than something having to do with Jinx or Powder herself. it would also explain Sevika's new look and such.

I'm SUCH an idiot but the gem imbedded in Viktor's wrist is most likely for the arm they showed back in S1, much like how they showed the gauntlets that Vi would eventually be using. I just didn't give the arm a second thought until now despite knowing The Machine Herald already had the third arm (insert face palm here...)

Back to the lines from Vi and Caitlyn from the announcement teaser 3 years ago, it's clear that they're talking about the temple fight that happens later on. Caitlyn has to see this through but she doesn't want to do it alone because she knows that she or Jinx is going to end up dead as a result; but Vi feels she needs to fight Jinx herself because we're probably going to see a bunch of stuff happen before the fight (like the Kiramman tent fight for example) because Vi says "no one else needs to get hurt", but at first I just thought that Vi was talking about Jinx's attack on the Council.

I'm still unsure who's in the orange that Ambessa's talking to because no ones signature color in Arcane has been orange as far as i know (it's been mainly reds, blues, whites, and golds) so I'm thinking that it's a hospital outfit of some sort (I could be wrong, but that's where my thoughts are towards) and she's talking to someone in Piltover that Can implement Martial Law and there's really only 3 examples that could do that: Caitlyn, Jayce, or Mel (if Mel happens to be alive of course. and I'm pretty sure the other Councilor's are about as dead as dogshit, or should be because besides Cassandra did you Really give a fuck about the rest of them?).

someone else pointed this out and I for the Life of me can't find their account but the lines on the floor point to this being Stillwater Hold, so at some point that's where Jinx's base of operations is, or she's just breaking them out but at least in this scene i don't think so.

I'm changing my stance on this, this is happening right before Act 3 (or more specifically, before we see her in the Ambessa fight). mainly because while the lighting is damn near impossible to make out, i think her hair is cut in this scene, she's also missing the ropes on her top. Mainly because when we see her with the finger prosthetic she still has her braids and that's Definitely happening post Act 1. so she's crying about something different from Silco here and I'm having a dreading idea on what it is...

I don't think Vi is carrying Cait on her shoulders, mainly because with the lighting the vest looks brown but when we see Caitlyn her vest is very clearly black. So not exactly sure who it is, I'm kinda thinking it's the blue fish guy (is Arcane gonna give us the names of Caitlyn's comrades yet?!) and the explosion we see with him isn't the same one that knocked Vi down. but that's just hypothetical, the only thing I'm Sure about is that Vi isn't carrying Caitlyn at least.

I have NO idea Why and I have NO credible sources on this but for some reason my brain keeps telling Sevika's dying. No i don't know the how or the when but it'd just be another tally of grief for Jinx (because we're probably going to see them get close despite their animosity back in S1) (and let's be real anyone that takes on even a Slight "parenting" role to Vi or Jinx is getting the axe, i don't make the rules)

So far the only thing I'm having trouble placing is uhhh everyone that Isn't Vi, Jinx or Caitlyn. because they've been Massively marketing the three of them but when it comes to people like Viktor and Jayce not a fucking clue. We got that clip of Ekko and Heimerdinger sneaking into Piltover where they probably do some sorta hextech experimenting but that's really the limit of my knowledge. I know the people I was confused about have to do with Viktor and the Glorious Evolution thing but other than that, I've really only got solid thoughts on our three ladies for the season.

Also it seems like tomorrow they're probably going to be showing us what they showed at the Annecy festival for pit fighter Vi back in June so... can't wait for that!

and that's what i got for now...

[alexander-simps]

this barbie is a racing driver

[clownowo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[copia]

"And there's nothing you can do!" ⛧ Ghost - Rats for WORLD RAT DAY 04/04/2024

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[autisticandroids]

CASTIEL: Stop. What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me - not love, not respect, just fear.

[youtube with closed captions]

a godstiel pity party. i'd like to thank an anon i got way back in february of 2021.