#i’ve literally spent the past week on this so far

[ebbetii]

My animal crossing island so far!

[dracolunae]

Goddamn does TotK have a fucking death grip on my brain rn

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[bloodibambiidoll]

love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ reunited. b.e

୨ৎ summary: you’re billie’s girlfriend of just over a year and you surprise her on tour after not seeing her for weeks. ୨ৎ dom billie x fem reader ୨ৎ 2.1k words ୨ৎ warnings: oral (reader receiving), teasing, so so fluffy they're cute and in love <3, unedited

billie was on stage performing, and you could see the adrenaline and excitement literally radiating off her. the crowd was wild—which billie always loved—and this was possibly the best show of the tour so far. the energy was unmatched, and you were in awe of how beautiful and free she always looked onstage. you loved seeing her interact with her fans and sing her heart out, it was a truly beautiful sight. 

billie was totally unaware of the fact that you were backstage, and you watched her perform with a fond smile on your face—you and her had been dating for a little over a year, and it had been the best year of your entire life. 

she’d been on tour for the past month, and it was probably the longest time you’d spent apart since you confessed your feelings to her. you’d called every night and texted constantly, and there’d been a fair share of phone sex when you’d both been too needy to wait until you saw each other in person again. 

but now you were here, backstage at her concert, listening to her gorgeous voice and watching her with a wide smile as she sang the last song. 

finneas and maggie had helped you get here without her knowing, finneas making sure to tell you all about the extent to which she had complained about missing you. maggie had been incredibly happy when you created the group chat to suggest the surprise, clearly glad that her daughter had finally found someone willing to put in effort for her. to say you were her family’s favourite of everyone she’d dated would be an understatement. 

the concert eventually ended, and billie walked backstage while speaking to finneas. her sentence was cut off when she saw you standing there, doing a double take as her eyes widened. her steps halted, and she stared at you with an open mouth for a second before coming to her senses. as soon as her feet were no longer locked to the floor, she was running towards you.

her arms wrapped around you, the momentum of her running to you making the two of you do a little spin as you grabbed onto each other. she clung onto the fabric of your shirt as she buried her head in your neck. she breathed in deeply, savouring the feeling of being close to you again. 

after a few minutes, she finally pulled away from the embrace, looking at you with a soft look in her eyes. “you’re here, oh my god. you came. you have no idea how happy this makes me…” 

you smiled at her, finneas nudging your shoulder as he walked past with a small grin directed at the two of you. you rolled your eyes fondly at him before speaking, “of course i did. couldn’t go another month and a half without you.” 

finneas sent you a pointed look, glancing between you and billie. “okay, lovebirds. i want to point out that i helped her get here, by the way.”

billie grinned at her brother, “you’re my second favourite person in the world, finneas.” 

with a faux offended expression, finneas gasped dramatically. “i feel so betrayed. your own brother, replaced at number two?” 

billie still had her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and she pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “obviously.” 

finneas rolled his eyes, starting to walk away to find claudia, “wow, i didn’t know the lack of love you had in your heart for me. i’m leaving.” 

billie laughed as he walked away, not gracing his overdramatic words with a response. she turned to you, her eyes shining slightly. “god, baby… can’t believe you’re here…” 

you smile at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. billie’s lips chased after your own when you moved to pull away, kissing you desperately, never wanting to let go. after a moment, she pulls back, gazing into your eyes. “mmm, i’ve wanted to do that for the last two months. never stopped thinking about how your lips feel on mine.” 

you grinned playfully at her, “i bet you thought about how my lips feel somewhere else, too.” 

billie’s mouth fell open for a moment at your bold words, but the surprise was quickly replaced by a smirk, her eyes trailing down your body. 

“you know me so well…” her hands quickly found your waist, her thumbs rubbing soft circles on the bare skin between the waistband of your pants and the hem of your shirt. her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her eyes still locked on yours. “y’know, i think my dressing room should be empty for a while…” 

you mirrored her smirk at her words, picking up on the less than subtle innuendo as her eyes continue to trail up and down your figure. “yeah? lead the way, pretty.” 

her smirk widened, instantly intertwining your fingers together and pulling you to follow her. any other day, her hand probably would’ve been around your wrist, in a firmer, more possessive hold. but she was still in shock that you were even there with her, so she was being slightly  softer with you than normal. she was holding your hand as if she thinks you’d disappear if she were to hold you too harshly, like you’d just fade away and she’d be alone again. 

she wasn’t talking about it, but you knew she missed you more than she was letting on. every day without you had felt like absolute torture, and her family had watched her on the tour bus literally falling apart just because you weren’t there. the constant face-timing couldn’t compare to the feeling of your hand in hers, she was fully convinced that no feeling would ever make her feel more at peace than being close to you.

you arrived at her dressing room sooner than you’d thought you would, and she fumbled with the door handle for a second too long, before pulling you inside after her. 

her hand moved to lock the door, and you knew you were in for it. she wasn’t going to be rough, no, not this time. but this could be soft and still torturous. 

once the door was locked, she turned to you, giving you a smirk as she looked you up and down for a moment before slowly backing you into the wall. she pressed you against the wall and you didn’t even try to resist, a soft smile on your lips. you couldn’t deny how soft this felt, you were aware of the small differences in her actions—as if the time apart had made her scared of losing you.

she kissed you again, more urgently than the last. her tongue brushed along your bottom lip before she bit at it softly, leading to you opening your mouth in a gasp. she smiled against your lips and slipped her tongue inside your mouth, her body pressing closer against yours as she kept you against the wall. her knee pressed up between your thighs and a moan spilled out of your lips. 

her hands found your waist, her cool fingers slowly creeping up underneath the hem of your shirt as her tongue continues to explore your mouth. her hands travelled further up under your shirt, leaving trails of goosebumps where she touched. one hand teasingly squeezed at your breast through your bra and the other deftly pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the ground somewhere—she couldn’t care less where it landed. 

she let one of her hands snake around your back to the clasp of your bra, which she fumbled with for a moment out of her eagerness. soon, your bra had joined your shirt and her hands were drawn to your breasts like magnets. she seemed almost hypnotised, her eyes drinking in everything they’d been missing while the two of you had been apart. she gave one of your nipples a teasing tweak before her hands slowly trailed down your sides. 

one of her hands moved to hook in the loop of your jeans. she seemed impatient, despite clearly wanting to take her time. she wanted to savour this reunion, but she also wanted to be between your thighs as soon as she possibly could. 

moments later, she’d repositioned you so you were lying on the couch, your back propped up slightly by pillows. her hands had tugged your jeans halfway down your legs, and you impatiently kicked them off to join your shirt on the floor. 

she settled between your legs, looking up at you with her signature grin before hooking her index finger around your panties and pulling them down your thighs. she carelessly chucked them behind her somewhere, assuming they’d land in the vicinity of your other discarded clothes. in all honesty, where your underwear landed was the least of her concerns—she’d much prefer if you never wore them ever again. 

her ring-clad hands firmly grip your thighs, pulling them apart and leaving no room for argument—not that you wanted to argue. this was what you’d been waiting for for months. “billie, please–” the utter desperation, the pleading tone in which you spoke to her, brought a smirk to billie’s lips. she pressed soft, open mouthed kisses around your thighs, holding eye contact with you. 

“yeah, baby? what do you need?” you whined, an honestly pathetic sound—but you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, you needed your girlfriend. billie didn’t care about the patheticness of it all either, in fact, it seemed to make her lips twitch further up into a pleased smirk. she loved having you desperate, having you aching for her. 

you finally managed to form the words to respond to her, “you, billie, your mouth, your fingers, i don’t care. You.”

her smirk widened, her kisses travelling ever so slightly closer to where she knew you needed her. she hummed softly, the noise sending vibrations along your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. her teeth nipped softly at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, a teasing smirk on her face as she looked up at you. 

“yeah, pretty girl? you need me?” 

you didn’t get time to respond before she was licking a stripe up your folds, still gripping your thighs firmly. her tongue travelled up to your clit and circled it, making you let out a moan and throw your head back onto the couch cushions. you had missed her. so, so much.

she held your thighs open when they threatened to close around her head, a particularly tantalising lick through your folds making your back arch up off the couch slightly. she smirked again, looking up at you with those eyes that held a sort of smug mischief in them. she knew exactly what to do to drive you crazy, and she was intending on doing just that. 

“oh? you like that?” 

you hummed softly, nodding quickly because you couldn’t quite form words but you needed her to know that you very much liked it. you felt hopeless, the desperation you felt was unlike any you’d felt in a long time. you decided to blame that on the extensive time apart, which had felt like torture. 

her tongue continues its assault on you, lapping away at you like a starved woman—with the time you’d been separated for tour, you guessed she kind of was. one hand moved slightly from its grasp on your thigh, and she circled your clit in a way that made you throw your head back and let out a low moan. she felt your thighs shudder slightly around her head, and you felt her lips twitch up against her sensitive skin. she knew you were close, she could feel it. 

she spoke, still pressed up against you so she could go right back to eating you out after she got the words out, “that’s a good girl, cum for me.” 

at her words, you let out another loud moan, head falling back onto the support of the couch cushions as your long awaited release came over you. you had just spent months without her, without her touch, without her love, and you felt the relief wash over you at the knowledge that you were finally close to her again. 

billie smirked again as she felt you cum on her face, her tongue riding you through it as she lapped up your juices. she had missed this. 

you breathe deeply for a moment, before finally bringing yourself to lift your head up off the couch cushions and make eye contact with her. she had that proud smirk on her face as she watched you from in between your thighs, “feel good, pretty?” 

you manage a small grin at her, “very much so.” you paused, looking at her for a moment as you recovered from the intense feeling of your first orgasm from her in months. you spoke again, a playful smirk playing on your lips. “my turn now.” 

after all, the night was young. the night was young and you were finally together again, you had all the time in the world.

this is unironically the first smut i’ve ever written sooo i hope you liked it…

[rivatar]

Pandora’s Hub

Pairing: Adult!Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Scientist!reader

Warnings/content: MDNI 🔞, heavy smut, p in v, outdoor sex & recording (obvi), porn references/simulation, degradation & praising, creampie, flirty man-whore Lo’ak, squirting

A/n: Day 5 prompt (Outdoor Sex + recording) for Pandora’s Glow- hosted by @luvv4j4ybe11 @aperiraa! Sorry it’s a week late, I’ve had so much going on (graduations, weddings, birthdays, etc) but I finally finished this. And ngl it’s filthyyy hehehe🤭. Also I hope you guys get the ‘Pandora’s Hub’ = ‘Pornhub’. Idk I thought it was funny 💀

Dividers by @cafekitsune

W/c: 2.2k

It was a beautiful day on Pandora. Quietly humming to yourself, you made your way towards the forest where you would be collecting photos of many different plants to further your research. The book ‘Pandoran Botany’ that Grace Augustine wrote was literally like your Bible. You spent countless hours working with the other botanists to learn more about these plants and what they are capable of providing. Their beauty and wonder never failed to amaze you.

You’ve spent almost the past week coming out into different spots in the forest to capture photos of plants and try to identify them without looking in the book. Of course, you didn’t stray too far from the lab but each day you ventured out a little further and further, not being able to contain yourself each time you seen a new plant you’d never seen since you arrived on Pandora. But what was the harm, right?

You were crouched down in a spot, carefully focusing the camera on the details of this plant you found.

“What’re you doing out here?” A deep voice startled you, making you jump and gasp, nearly dropping the camera. You whipped around to find the source.

“Oh, Lo’ak,” you blew out a sigh of relief with your hand over your heart, “You scared the shit out of me!”

He laughed, flashing a wide and charming smile, looking at you in amusement. “Sorry, didn’t know you were so jumpy,” he teased with his hands on his hips.

You stood up from your crouch and gave him an eye roll, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Well, what are you doing?” He asked for the second time.

“Oh yeah— I’m just taking some pictures of some plants for my research,” you explained as he nodded in response. “What are you doing?” You threw the question back at him.

He tsked, “Last time I checked you’re on my terrain. Didn’t know I needed a reason to be out here.” He tilted his head at you holding your camera.

“Let me see this,” he snatched the camera out of your hand.

“Hey!” You tried to grab it back but he dangled it way above your head due to his much taller stature. “Be careful with it, Lo’ak, it’s got important stuff on there!” You scolded while jumping up and attempting to get it back. It was to no use, though.

He chuckled and seemed to enjoy teasing you. “Awww, the little human girl can’t reach. Aren’t you just pathetic?” he laughed and feigned pity, poking out his bottom lip in a fake sad expression all while holding you off with one strong arm.

He threw it up in the air and gasped to scare you, only for him to easily catch it with his large hands. Your heart dropped, not wanting the camera to shatter and lose all the photos it possessed.

“Knock it off, Lo’ak!” You shouted angrily and kicked his shin, only to make him bust out laughing.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he kept laughing and petted your head.

“I’m not a fucking child, stop treating me like one!”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyes danced around playfully.

You didn’t answer, you didn’t know if he was still teasing or if it was a trick question. You just stared at him, eyes filled with anger.

He smirked and looked away from you to look at the camera, clicking through its contents.

“Hmm, these are pretty pictures,” he stated observingly, “But Eywa, you would look so much prettier in this camera” he flirted shamelessly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying not to blush. It was no secret Lo’ak has always been a huge flirt.

“Oh please, Lo. Don’t you have anything better to do than flirting with me?” You asked peering up at him with your arms crossed.

He loved you calling him his shortened nickname and how you teased him back. He liked to think you were playing hard to get. All the other girls would’ve already submitted to him by now, but what’s the fun in that?

“Nah, I don’t think I do.” He quipped. “Have you never wondered what you’d look like on here?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”

“Like they do back on earth. I think dad called it ‘porn’?” He asked nonchalantly.

Your jaw fell to the ground after you nearly choked on your spit. A blush crept over your features, not being able to hide your blush this time. “Lo’ak! You pervert!” You shoved his stomach and tried acting offended that he would insinuate such a dirty idea.

He chuckled at your reaction. “How am I the perv when you’re the one blushing, huh?”

Your blush deepened, much to your dismay, and you looked down at your feet.

He squatted down to be on your level. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you are curious about it” he spoke lowly, and you swore you could feel his breath on your face. He stretched an arm out to pull the strap of your tanktop and bra down your shoulder. Your stomach did flips and you were frozen in place, unable to stop him.

“Tell me you want to,” he demanded, already feeling impatient. “I know you do, I can smell you, but tell me you want it.”

“I-I want it, please,” you gave up your fight easier than you’d like to admit.

“Hmm, good girl. I knew you had it in ya,” he praised, loving that he broke you and won. He turned his attention back to the camera in his hand and pressed a button, making a red light come on in the corner as he pointed the camera towards you.

“Hey everyone, Y/N here is gonna show us how good she can be whenever she’s not bickering like a brat or hiding in that damn lab,” he started, and you blushed and couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“No one is seeing this, Lo.” You made it clear and shook your head, looking at him and not the camera lens.

“Oh, come on! I know that but don’t ruin the fun, baby.” He laughed. His smile faded and lust clouded his eyes, darkening his expression. “Now let’s see you take those clothes off, sevin,” he rasped.

Your heart was racing and you were nervous as hell. Not only because of the thrill of doing anything sexual with this hot Na’vi man, but also the thrill of doing it in on a video?? You were sure your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

Your hands were shaking a little as your reached for the bottom of your tank top, slowly peeling it up to raise it over your head and off. Your nerves made you slower and less confident. You had the first item of clothing off at least, time to tackle the rest.

“C’mon babe, this thing won’t be able to finish our video at the pace you’re going,” he laughed behind the camera, holding it up to his face to make sure you were perfectly centered.

You huffed in frustration and wiggled your shorts and panties off in one quick tug, flinging them off to the side and unsnapped your bra in a swift move as well to be completely naked. “There! Happy?”

He lowered the camera from his face so he could fully take in the sight for his own eyes. “Fuckkkk, yes,” he groaned out deeply, reaching down to palm his tented loincloth that was aching for some relief. His eyes were hooded and ate up every inch of your naked form, licking his bottom lip in the process.

His evident approval made your confidence boost and you didn’t feel as insecure to be exposed in front of him. You rubbed your thighs together as slick coated your pussy lips, you were more than ready for whatever Lo’ak had planned in that dirty mind of his. He chuckled seeing your apparent neediness and untied his loincloth with one hand, the other hand still making sure the camera caught every inch of your glory.

His cock sprung out as the cloth fell to the ground. You couldn’t help your mouth from hanging agape, taken aback by how huge and heavy he was. It took effort to force your eyes off his beautiful erection and back up to his equally beautiful face. He motioned you with his hand. “C’mere, babe.”

You gently walked towards him, waiting for him to make a move. He reached his hand out and grabbed your tit, fiddling with your nipple between his fingers. He smiled when you couldn’t help but hum and whimper in satisfaction. Then he lowered himself in a squat to get on your level and positioned the camera to get a closeup on your boobs.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” Lo’ak said while groping them, “Truly a work of art.” He continued to get all the angles of your breasts while playing with them, making your heart speed up.

Then he lowered himself more, opting to sit on the ground in front of you. Without warning, he hiked up one of your legs and you quickly gained your balance on your standing leg, hands finding rest on top of his head. He angled the camera to get a good view of your pussy as his other hand began playing through your glistening folds, collecting all your slick on his long fingers. You whimpered above him, the rough pads of his fingers bringing much pleasure to you.

He spread your lips apart, gaining a perfect view to your little hole. Looking through the camera, he made sure this stunning view was being captured. You blushed deeply at the way you were being put on display like a pornstar, but it turned you on beyond belief.

“Such a tiny little tawtute pussy,” he hummed and looked up at your eyes, “I’m gonna fuck it so good.”

You clenched around nothing, your one standing leg suddenly growing weak and wanting to give out. “Please Lo’ak!”

“Lay down, now,” he demanded and you wasted no time in rushing your way down to the forest floor, spreading your legs wide open.

“You’re so good. What a good little slut,” he praised you. He grabbed his rock-hard dick and ran it up and down your slit, earning a moan from you. Once again, he held the camera up and made sure it was getting all of this. Your pretty self laid out on display for him and his dick starting to breach your hole. It was nearly too much for him to handle.

Pushing in slowly, you gasped at the stretch and he groaned as you sucked him in your tight walls. He pushed and pushed until he nearly bottomed out, giving you a minute to adjust to his size. “You okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned you might break in half.

“Mhmmm, go, please!” You thought it was more painful with him being still inside of you instead of moving.

He obeyed and started with some short thrusts to get you going. He knew the interspecies differences would make this nearly impossible if you and him weren’t so damn turned on right now.

Squelching noises filled the air as you took him in your pussy so well. Your noises of pleasure only encouraged him more, and he swore to himself he wouldn’t cum until you did.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking wet and tight around me,” he said breathlessly.

“Mmm, feels so good, more!!” You shamelessly begged as he sped up his thrusts.

“God you’re so good at this. Taking me so well.” he groped your tit some more with his free hand, marveling in the way they bounced around from his steady and hard thrusts.

You moaned loudly and felt your orgasm approaching as the pleasure intensified. You reached down to rub your little nub and threw your head back, screwing your face up.

“I bet you’re so wet because you like being recorded, hm? You like being a filthy whore every once and a while?” He degraded you, but he was right, and God, it only turned you on more.

“Yeah everyone, look how she’s rubbing her clit and trying so hard to cum. How pathetic,” he spoke to the ‘audience’. The thought of someone else watching this was all you needed to finish. You came hard around him.

“Fuckkkk!!” You screamed and kept rubbing your nub quickly. You felt warm liquid coat your hand and splash around.

“Holy shit!! We’ve got a squirter!” Lo’ak said in awe and surprise, continuing his thrusts but they got sloppy as his orgasm overtook him too, not being able to hold back anymore at the sight of you squirting on him.

“Shit, I’m cumming!” He announced and came inside of you, somehow finding more room in there to put his cum.

Your combined sounds of pleasure and heavy breaths rang through the air. You were both a sticky mess from sweat and cum.

He lowered the camera and ended the video, laying it to the side as he collapsed on top of you. You were both trying to catch your breath.

“Well, that wasn’t what I had in mind for what I was going today,” he joked.

You snickered. “Yeah. You’re telling me.”

Taglist: @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @anemonelovesfiction @professional-yapper @plantgirliewholovespandora @etherynn @nonamevenus @ladykat37 @loakstahni @zafrinaxyz @xylianasblog @xstarsdiary @itchaboi-itchyboy @neteyamsoare @strongheartneteyam @inolaphoenix @erenjaegerwifee @vogueweb (lmk if you wanna be added or removed from taglist!)

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 6

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Don’t forget to like and rb if you’re liking the series so far! ♡

Remy’s POV

I poured some homemade almond milk over the cereal in my favorite ceramic bowl. “Bills, do you want any cereal?” That’s when the intercom rang.

“Who’s that?” Billie asked, all the way from my room.

I press the button, “Can I help you?”

“Remy! This is Rachel! Hii!”

Unbelievable. How the fuck does she know where I live?

“Uhh hi? What are you doing here?”

“I need your help with something I’m working on, is it okay if I come up? Joseph told me your address, I hope that’s okay.”

I roll my eyes and buzz her in. It’s literally 6 o’clock on a Wednesday. What is this.

I let her in when she knocked. Her stupid, pretty face annoyed me. “Rachel, it’s getting late. Why didn’t you talk to me earlier at the office?”

“Listen.” She clapped her hands together. “I want you to help me write this column. You’re friends with THE Billie Eilish, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to write next week’s column about her new album.” She smiled, really, really big. It was kinda creepy how perfect and white her teeth were.

“You want to use me to be able to talk to a celebrity for an exclusive interview?” I blinked.

“Who’s this?” Billie walked out, furrowing her brows.

“Oh my god! Hi! I’m Rachel, SO nice to meet you!” She walked past me to give Billie a hug.

Billie looked at me over her shoulder and laughed, probably knowing I was hating every minute. “Nice to meet you too, Rachel. I’ve heard so much about you!” She mouthed at me, What the hell?

I rolled my eyes and walked back to my cereal. I sat on a bar stool, watching them. She would not shut the fuck up. She’s insufferable. And Billie just ate it the fuck up. When I finished my bowl, I placed it in the sink, eying the way Rachel constantly felt the need to touch her when she spoke.

“You’re much more beautiful in person. I’m like, mesmerized!” She giggled

“Girl! Thank you, you’re so sweet. You’re gorgeous, are you kidding?” Billie blushed.

“Rachel, can’t we do this at the office?” I cut them off, leaning over the counter.

Billie looked at me, scratching her eyebrow.

“I just thought we’d get to know each other… Before starting on the column we’re gonna write together.” She smiled at Billie.

“You’re writing the column with her, Rem? That’s great!” Billie cheered.

I crossed my arms, “Ask her what it’s about-“

“It’s about successful artists that blew up overnight, and their advice for any up and coming artists.” Rachel said, proudly.

“Which artist.” I raised my brow, looking at Billie.

Billie looked at Rachel, waiting for her to answer.

“Only the coolest, most badass, talented-“

“It’s you.” I interrupted.

Billie looked at me, tilting her head. “Oh?” She let out a small laugh. “Well… then you guys better get to work!”

⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

Throughout the next few days, Rachel spent most of her time in my apartment. It was my very own personal hell.

Of course, Billie joined us each time, wanting to be in on everything we did. Rachel was loving every bit of it, I could tell.

“Remy, is your section ready?” Rachel interrupted my train of thought. She laid on her stomach on the floor, kicking her feet in the air. Billie sat up next to her, probably feeding her ego.

“Yeah, I just have to edit a few things.” I typed away on my laptop from the couch.

Occasionally, I’d look up from my screen, only to see Billie’s gaze stuck directly on Rachel’s body. Her icy eyes stared into her soul while she talked, pissing me off to the max. Who would’ve known she’d steal my job, and my best friend.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great.” Rachel’s smiled at me, shutting her computer down.

“You wanna join us for dinner tonight, Rach?” Billie asked.

Rach? Really? She had a nickname now?

I looked over at Billie, not at all happy with her proposal. The look of disdain on my face had to be evident enough for her to notice.

“Oh, no, I’d hate to intrude on y’all’s plans.” Rachel looked at me. “I gotta head out anyway-“ Getting up from the floor, she picked up her belongings.

“No really, I insist.” Billie got up, grabbing her arm. She gave me a disapproving look, which I didn’t appreciate. There’s no way she’s eating with us. I frantically shook my head no at Billie when Rachel looked away.

“You sure?” She asked

I held up a giant X in the air with my arms.

“Yeah! My treat.” Billie ignored me.

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪˖⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

At dinner, Billie sat between Rachel and I, in a round booth. They did most of the talking while I stuffed my face with pesto pasta.

“No, for real, I’ve met some rude ass famous people.” Billie lowered her voice, not wanting others at the restaurant to hear. She adjusted her sun glasses and held onto her hoodie.

“Me too! It’s sad but so many of them are too far gone.” Rachel shook her head, looking over her shoulder.

It felt like over the past few days, they shared their own little secrets. Their own little gossip session I wasn’t allowed in. Of course, I was sitting right there, but I didn’t want to be.

“Like for example…” Billie got closer to her, leaving some space between us.

I couldn’t help but feel like I was third wheeling. The way they looked at each other. The way Billie’s eyes wandered to Rachel’s lips when she talked. The way she accepted every compliment from her, even though she barely ever believes any of mine.

Out of nowhere, an obnoxious laugh startled me. Billie laughed too, but Rachel’s laugh was exceptionally loud. Billie was trying to finish her story, which wasn’t even that funny to begin with.

“She thought I was just a fan, it was super awkward!” Billie laughed. “So I just vibed with it and asked for her autograph. She was a bitch though.”

“You’re hilarious! I cannot!” Rachel’s laugh continued. It wasn’t even that funny! I sat there, straight faced, trying to get the waiter’s attention.

“The bill, please.” I quietly asked the waiter.

Billie noticed, putting a hand on my lap and mouthing

I got it.

“It’s fine, I’ll get my plate and be on my way.”

“Rem, I’m your ride home.” Billie scooted towards me.

Rachel broke out in laughter again, acting like that was even remotely funny.

“What’s funny, I’m confused.” I furrowed my brows slightly, squinting a bit.

She cleared her throat and took a sip of water, shaking her head, looking a bit embarrassed.

Billie looked at me as the waiter brought the bill. She handed him her card.

“Thank you, really, I so appreciate your invite, guys. Rem, to our column!” She held her drink up, waiting for me to clink her glass with mine.

I returned the favor, shooting down the last bit of my watered down gin and grapefruit soda. I could feel Billie watching me down my drink, leaving a hole on the side of my face.

“Ready guys?” Billie finished signing the receipt.

“Yup.” I scooted out of the booth, walking towards the exit.

Billie stayed with Rachel, allowing her to walk ahead of her. She followed behind her, through the restaurant, and opened the car door for her as the valet attendant pulled up.

The car ride was loud, and annoying. Rachel still would not shut up, and Billie was now starting to laugh at her dumb jokes.

All night, my mind overwhelmed me with hate. Whether it’s directed toward the wrong person or not, I’m still completely over it. Maybe it’s the fact that this girl has my dream job, waltzed into my home, and made herself comfortable because she thinks she can. Maybe it’s the fact she instantly got along so well with Billie, even though they’re not at all alike. Even though, Billie knows I don’t like her. After all the arguing and convincing me to quit, she invites the reason why to dinner?

“I have to admit, I hate that the column is almost finished. I loved hanging out with you.” Rachel reapplied lipstick from the front seat. “Both of you.” She looked at me through the little mirror.

Maybe I hate the way this girl throws herself at Billie. Usually, this bothered Billie. It didn’t seem to bother her as much as it did me. I mean, I could be exaggerating, I could be so heated that everything tastes sour. Logically, Rachel wasn’t at fault for getting the position. She showed up for the interview and got the job. But I wanted to hate her so much, it made me question if my heart was in the right place. Her attempts to include me and be kind made me want to pull back even more for some reason.

“You too. You’re cool, Rach. You know where to find me.” Billie smiled.

I just don’t get why Billie was being so damn friendly with her. I felt betrayed. Jealous, even. Only because of how unfair it all was. It made my stomach turn. I’d never do that to her. The slight touches, the forced laughter, the looks they shared. I swear to God if they don’t stop… If they start dating I’m going to throw up. I could imagine them kissing, ignoring me completely. There it was again. My mind going to a place it didn’t need to. I hate it, I don’t know why.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rem.” Rachel smiled, getting out of the car after giving Billie a hug. Only Billie called me that, I thought. She waved at me as she walked around, toward her building. I looked out the window, seeing the stunning sky-rise covered in glass windows next to us. I waved back.

“Oh, you’re not gonna go with her?” I said, sarcastically.

“Shut up. You gonna come up to the front?” Billie pats the seat next to her. “Ooh it’s warm.” She scrunched her nose.

“I’m good here.” I brought my knee up and hugged it.

“Dude. Get up here before I drag you out.” She lowers the music.

I rolled my eyes.

“Do I have to beg you?”

“Can you just take me home, I’m not in the mood.” I scrolled through my phone, knowing there wasn’t a damn notification to check.

“What’s up your ass, Rem.” She pulled out of the lot, driving toward my place, which apparently wasn’t too far from Rachel’s.

“Oh, you mean besides the fact that all night the two of you bonded over the dumbest shit, and she basically sat in your lap the whole time?”

“Huhhh?” She squinted. “What are you talking about? I was just being nice to your new boss?”

“My what, bro?”

“You know what I mean, I’m trying to help you! She gets to write her column about me, you get to impress her with your insane writing, and maybe your hard work isn’t all for nothing.” Billie looked at me through the rearview mirror every once in a while.

“Oh, is that what this is?” I laughed.

“Yeah, me helping you, is what this is.”

“You looking at her with fuck me eyes is supposed to help me? Thank you!”

“Rem, you’re actually implying I’d fuck your coworker?” She raised her brows, in disbelief.

“I don’t know, you keep looking at her like you’re going to kiss her or something. Like she’s not literally using me to get an interview out of you!”

“Okay, what if I was? What’s the fucking problem, then?” She turned into my building’s parking garage.

I laughed, getting defensive now. “Nothing, go right ahead, absolutely no one is stopping you.”

I could tell she stopped herself from saying something more petty. “Rem, I think she’s just trying to be nice by including you, and that’s better than coming in and making you her bitch, is it not?”

I didn’t answer. I knew she was right because I had similar thoughts, but I still wanted to hate her so badly. It was either her, or myself, I guess, instead of quitting and proving everyone right.

“Rem?” She looked at me again, through the mirror.

I stayed quiet.

“What if I was trying to fuck her?” She quietly asked, shrugging a little. “Why would you care?”

I struggled to get the right answer out. “Because!” I stuttered, “She’s my boss- no- my coworker. It’s weird.”

Billie stayed quiet for the rest of the car ride. I felt embarrassed, like I overreacted, which I knew I did. It made sense. She was trying to play nice, get me ahead, or something.

I unbuckled my seat belt, as did she. She got out of the car and climbed in the backseat with me and closed the door. She looked straight at me, not saying a word. She leaned back, resting her head on the window.

“So, you gonna apologize?” She crossed her arms. “Because you’re being mean.”

“I swear to you, I hate her with every fiber of my being. And I know I shouldn’t, but she pisses me off. This isn’t fair, Billie.”

“Was I supposed to be rude to her? And mess up your chance at being published on the column?”

I barely shook my head.

“I haven’t heard you once talk about how awesome it is that you’re co-writing a column. Who cares who it’s with. Your name is gonna be on that magazine!”

She’s right. This is what I wanted.

“You’re not happy, see?”

I looked in her eyes, trying to find out what she’s getting at.

“You’re not going to be content there. Because you want more.” She read me like a book. A book with really sticky pages that are hard to turn without skipping a few.

I shook my head, not wanting to accept it.

“Yeah, you’re just projecting. You’re trying to find someone to hate, when you’re tolerating everyone’s bullshit, just to prove something to yourself.”

“Billie, I’ve just had such a shit week. I wanted that job so badly. It was- it is my dream job. And I wanted it alone-”

She cut me off, “She’s giving you that chance. Maybe she hates Joe too and wants you to have what you deserve. You wanted me to support you? Well here you go, Remy.”

I nodded, “okay.”

Billie sighed, leaning forward towards me.

I watched her mouth open to say something, but she stopped. It felt like she did that a lot recently.

“I’ve always been this honest with you.” She played with her rings.

“I know… I need it.”

“You do. You need me.”

I looked up at her. “I need you to come inside so we can finish our show. We were rudely interrupted earlier by Rach.” I mocked her.

“Okay.” She laughed a bit, rolling her eyes playfully. “There’s my Remy.”

I got out of the car, glad that the tension thinned out. I walked towards the elevator and pressed the up button, noticing Billie was still in the car. I watched her sit there for a moment, then get out.

“You alright?” I asked, my voice echoing in the dim parking garage.

“Yeah, coming.” She finally caught up, putting her hoodie up, over the green bandana in her hair. Her voice was hesitant.

From this moment forward, I promised myself not to make it about myself. My time with Billie was limited, and I wasn’t going to waste it. Tour starts next week and I plan on making the last few days memorable.

[andreablog2]

Why wouldn’t people shit post about the apocalypse ? I don’t get that, that’s like being against poetry in tough times. It’s just the language people use and there have been literal billions spent on trying to manufacture shitposting but it really hasn’t worked. I think people should feel pride in the fact that so many people said the ceo should die, Luigi became a sex symbol nothing ever happened. For better or for worse. Seriously the situation in la is horrible and the air quality is depressing but I personally do think it’s funny and a redeeming fact that amidst the chaos.. a nasty bitch who spoke poorly on my dead friend lost their house…this is my life. I’ve been in between LA & London for the past 3 years. I know this world very well. Lots of nasty classless people in Malibu and pacific palisades old head friends of the blog remember me posting about years before this. Separate from the Eaton fire, I don’t think people understand how much of a conscious deliberate choice it is to live in that area given all the natural disasters and how racist and soulless that area has become. I’ve evacuated before when I didn’t have to and there were all these people in my building evacuating even though I wasn’t in a zone so I didn’t and it’s been brutal being as far away as I am now…as someone who literally has family members who went through shit like this non stop with so much ambulance chasers bullshit aid programs that only circulated money for the wealthy, seeing the difference in how this has been reported has made me very sympathetic to the people in middle America who are like “fuck la” rn even if I happen to have been breathing poison air and on edge all week for multiple things happening at once. It’s really bad faith to be like “how could mock this, normal people live in pacific palisades/pasadena too” Jamie Lees comparison to Gaza really solidified how I feel about all of this. Also can’t stand the uneducated conspiracy theories. None of us are going to have rights in 3 years, why are we scolding eachother over decorum. Bad things just happen all the time it’s a beautiful thought to me that money can’t buy your way out of everything: natural disaster and public ridicule.

[kamwashere]

saw your tags and yes PLEASE do a proper fic rec list!

5 times Wade didn't believe Peter, and the one time he did by keikoHPfan [T, 1K]

Wade isn't a fool. And he knows better, whatever Spidey says. Or five times Wade didn't believe Peter, and the one time he did.

✦ kam's notes: The first ever SMDP fic I’ve ever read! I had this bookmarked in 2016 with a note saying, “I wanna scream but fam is literally right hEre so I'm just here making this weird sound in my throat this fic must be treasured for life.” Super angsty and fluffy!

The Perks of Being Smarter Than Everyone Gives You Credit For by alphasaceraptor, Orcusnox (Cat9894) [M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 32K, WIP]

Peter Parker, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man, is sapiosexual. You'd think, working as an intern under Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, he'd have his pick of the best brains around. But apparently not. Someone's been lying about how smart a certain mercenary actually is, and that puts Peter in a sticky situation when said mercenary starts interacting with Peter. And with trouble brewing at Stark Industries, you just know this is going to be a wild ride...

✦ kam's notes: Sadly, I think this has been abandoned  as it hasn’t been updated since 2017 but it’s still worth a read! Featuring super smart Wade and super horny about it Peter. 

Propositions by stuckybarnes [T, 8K]

“Yeah…” Deadpool drawls. “Anyway, Pretty Boy, I have a proposition for you.” This makes Peter kind of want to throw up. Propositions by Deadpool always end up with them in varying degrees of pain, and a lot of explaining to do with the Avengers. OR Wade finally convinces a very tired Peter to go to New York Comic-Con with him and enter a Deadpool and Spider-Man cosplay contest, sure they'll win. Obviously. It doesn't go exactly as expected, and Peter is not thrilled.

✦ kam's notes: Spidey and DP go to Comic-Con! Fanservice, cosplays, banter, and feelings! All that fun stuff.

Ooh, Spicy by misato [E, 2K]

“It’s me,” he croaks, and Peter readies his web-shooter, aiming it at his mouth. He starts talking. Fast. “I’m Deadpool. Wade Wilson. I’m from another universe. In that one you’re dead and I’m more than a little bit bummed about it.” Surprisingly, that’s what gets Peter to loosen his grip. “You’re from another universe?” he sighs. “That’s so last week.”

✦ kam's notes: Hell yeah, another Peter B./Wade fic! This one is very spicy, kinda sad, but still sweet. Wade worships every version of Peter and I love that. 

baby, i’d victoria your secret anytime by ghostsoldier [E, 4K]

Peter’s known Wade for a while now, so he can maybe see how this makes sense -- like, maybe Wade has a thing about going commando and just happened to have an old girlfriend’s panties lying around, one thing led to another…but… “And the bra?” Peter croaks.

✦ kam's notes: Wade (unknowingly) seduces Peter with lingerie (!!!) and pancakes. Spice ahead!

I Think I Missed a Step ('Cause I'm Fallin' For You) by mokuyoubi [E, 42K]

There’s a weird familiarity about the kid's tone and posture, and it’s true that Wade is pretty far from home today but he’s also certain he’d remember that baby-face if he’d seen it before. On the other hand, he has spent the better part of the past few years feeling like he’s missed a step, so this conversation isn’t exactly anything new. [[A hot guy is willingly talking to us. Go with it.]] [Don’t make an ass of yourself.] “Shaddup,” Wade grumbles, though Yellow has a point... OR Peter thinks Wade knows his secret identity, and Wade is really confused by the hot coed who keeps popping up and hanging out with him.

✦ kam's notes: I debated putting this here a lot since when I first read it, I did so without reading the tags or the notes and missed the Tom!Spidey disclaimer but please don’t be discouraged, it is still a very good fic. Peter is aged up (still feels like a weird loophole) and is a full-fledged adult. Anyways! This fic lovingly abuses the classic identity porn trope. Very good and there is a variety of MCU cameos.

what light through yonder window by hellornothing [M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, 14K]

The figure moves quickly, but Peter’s faster. He’s still adjusting to the sudden brightness, so dark red is really the only thing he takes from this initial encounter, but it’s enough. ‘Deadpool?’ - aka the one where they get together via late night window visits

✦ kam's notes: This fic has EVERYTHING: late night talking, identity reveal, pining!Peter, TLC. I really love Wade in this; he’s so tender, funny, and charming. This is also domestic in ways I can’t explain.

finger tap pulses by twentytwosevens [T, 3K]

"The first time Peter’s timer stops he is eleven years old. It times out in the middle of the night and wakes him up like an electric shock. The blank timer stares at him from his wrist as he yells and screams for his aunt and uncle." Spideypool AU with timers where Wade keeps getting killed and making Peter's timer go blank. By the time they meet he's pretty pissed off. This was certainly a summary with words, but they were not good ones. Based off a tumblr prompt that I cannot find anymore.

✦ kam's notes: Oh, this one has a delicate amount of angst and crack. Poor Peter! Deadpool-typical suicidal ideation, be warned. 

BDE (Big Dick Emergency) by DerRumtreiber [E, 6K]

“Oh my god,” he says again. “Oh. My. Gaa-awd, Becky. Did you?” Wade is visibly vibrating. “Did you really say ‘giant penis problem’? Really? Truly?” “What did you think I meant the first time?” Peter asks through clenched teeth. “I dunno, wrong hole?” ~*~*~ Or, the one where Peter is in need of some practical advice, and Wade is always happy to share his ass knowledge.

✦ kam's notes: THEE BOTTOM!WADE FIC, imo. Peter has unsatisfying sex life due to his Big Problem/Blessing and Wade is determined (and super thrilled)  to change that. Not to be a spoiler but he definitely succeeds. 

Love of a Different Lifetime by alicat54c [T, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 15K]

In another time and place, Wade would have gone back to Weasel’s bar and met the love of his life, Vanessa. However, in this life, predicated by a squeaky skateboard wheel, he met Peter instead. ... “Yo mamma so dumb, she thought Tiger Woods was a forest in India.” Wade's arm spasmed, causing his swing to go wide, sending the ball clear out of the course and across the sidewalk. Peter carefully kept his eyes on the score sheet as his companion turned around, expression playfully murderous. He scratched a line with a short pencil. “So, that’s one point against you.” The older man’s face split into a toothy grin. “Oh, it is on, baby boy.”

✦ kam's notes: And to end this fic rec, I bring you the ultimate filmverse!Spideypool fic. It rewrites both DP1 and TASM1 and it entwines both of the film’s canon together. In this fic, Peter doesn’t have his powers yet but he does meet Wade pre-cancer. They fall in love. While Wade goes into the program, Peter becomes Spider-Man. Cue Deadpool being born, Spider-Man trying to stop him, heartaching reunion and all that. Loved this one. 

Oh, and also there are some Team Red moments!

As usual, I'll just add my own fics as well —

my heart is wild (and my bones are steel) [T, 9K]

Out of the corner of his eyes, MJ quietly takes the seat across the younger Peter, swiftly sliding into his place. He visibly relaxes, resting his forehead against hers. They belong together in a quietly intense way. Longing burns hot inside of him, like a branch caught in a forest fire. It’s strange. Even if this version of Peter has lost virtually everything, he still finds a way to be envious of him. He thinks of Wade. For some unfathomable reason he isn’t quite ready to examine yet, he misses the idiot.

No Way Home, but in Peter-Three’s perspective.

all the skeletons you hide (show me yours, i’ll show you mine) [M, 23K, WIP] [Just updated]

A wave of affection and longing almost makes him stagger on his feet. Just seeing him in that suit—looking less than impressive, scratching his butt—makes him realize just how much he missed him. “Wade,” Peter cringes at how his voice catches, “Hi.” Wade turns around, turns back, turns again and does a double take. He eyes Peter up and down and to his surprise, turns away snootily. “Sorry cutie, any other day, I would be super into this hipster nerd slash skater boi with an I you’ve got going on—devastating combo, by the way—I’m sadly not in the mood.”

Peter, fresh out of his multiversal escapades, gains a new perspective in life. One that includes a certain mouthy mercenary, perhaps?

The problem is, the mercenary doesn’t seem to remember him. Like at all. He has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with that spell thing Peter-One was talking about…

‣ Both are a part of the new york isn't new york without you series

[cloudyeventss]

I thought I try my hand at writing a little story about being 141's assistant. I'm not sure where I'm taking this or even if I should continue. Let me knoww but be sweet. This is literally my first attempt at writing anything

Warnings~ cussing, slightly anxious ? Idk

Y/n pov

He's staring right at me. Slouching slightly to his left, strands of blue dyed hair peeking out underneath his hat. He clearly hasn't been sleeping, I can see the dark circles under his eyes. I don't think I’ve seen him blink once. This is too much. Too fucking much I'm starting to fidget with the belt of my purse, shifting back n forth trying to ease my nerves. I'm overwhelmed and overestimated. This bus smells worse than a gas station bathroom, it doesn't help it’s hotter than the damn desert in here, my sweater is starting to itch and the constant sound of the buses bell going off is enough to make my head explode. GOD why did my car have to break down today? sweat is beading my forehead I feel nauseous. GOD DOES THIS MAN EVER BLINK?!? *ding* fuck finally my stop. I've never been more relieved in my life to leave somewhere... stepping outside I feel like I can breathe again not by much though, last night, laying in bed i got a call from my father's friend Laswell telling me to meet her at a Cafe not too far from my home. Usually, I wouldn't be so nervous to see her, being Laswell and my father worked together for the past 10 years. She’s been around quite a few times but this time She spoke about a potential job opportunity as an assistant overseas. I'm not even sure I heard her right, i was a bottle deep into Apothic red wine. Nothing special but drink enough it’ll knock you on your ass. I've been anxious ever since. After finishing my associates degree in mind and body psychology, I wasn't sure I wanted to continue with school. Maybe I just need a break, but I also need a job. I take one final deep breath to attempt to calm my nerves as I wipe my sweaty palms down my jeans. Okay now’s the time to be confident y/n don't freak out .....

There she is sitting with her back against the wall right in between both exits like always. I'd say she's paranoid but with the work she does it's more justifiable. Laswell stands to greet me "Y/n , it's great to see you!" She moves to sit, and I follow. " it's good to see you too Kate, it's been awhile" . Lunch goes by smoothly; it always was easy falling into conversation with her. A red headed waitress with long legs and black trim glasses drops us our check before walking off to tend to her other tables. My eyes follow her as she passes, she's one of those girls who are effortlessly beautiful. Laswell gains my attention again " so your father tells me you are looking for work"

" I am"

"I could use someone I trust"

"Tell me more"

.....

It'd been two weeks since I met with Laswell, and I accepted the job offer. She explained it mainly consist of filing paperwork and doing whatever task ask of me, running errands, and so on. Kate didn't really give me any details of who I'd work for, just that it was four men she trusted with her life and assured me I'd be in good hands. Today's the day I get on a plane and uproot my whole life. I spent every bit of yesterday taking care of last-minute arrangements. I sold my piece of shit Honda to some high school kid . I almost felt bad for taking his money, but I told him of its issues. In a way I'ma miss Johnny. I named my car after a porn star, Johnny Sins. Ha. It still makes me chuckle . My honda wasn't much, but it always got me where I needed to be hints the name. After taking care of my car I went to see my father. He graciously agreed to look after my apartment for me while I was gone. We spent the rest of the evening watching old westerns on TV and saying our goodbyes.

.....

It's only four hours into the flight, and I'm already regretting my decision. I've spent most of the time in the bathroom emptying my stomach while avoiding angry knocks on the door. The taste of bile in my mouth makes me a little less caring about the people outside. Deciding I can't spend the rest of the flight in the bathroom, I pick myself off the floor and do my best to rinse my mouth. Flying has never sat right with me. I like my feet on the ground instead of tempting God. Regardless, I have to tough it out, its not like I can get them to land now. I walk out the restroom, mumbling hushed, apologizes, and take my seat. Just six more hours.. you got this y/n.

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: 20 months “Broken patients”

“Ah Ms.Mulberry… I, er, didn’t expect to see you. This early I mean. Making use of that outside privilege we worked so hard to get you. Of course you would. We managed to set the standard that all of your kind will keep their citizenship status until their crossroads, rather than at the start of their treatment. But, we’ll need to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Why don’t you- Ah, already taking a seat I see. So then… How are we feeling today? You seem… yourself.”

“...”

“Well, let’s see, what we can expect now is a few more days in court just to settle things, make sure the government is satisfied with the arrangements we all agreed upon. We’ll also need a few weeks to determine if this therian support group is actually reputable enough that this will count towards your psychological evaluation. Recently there have been some rumors about the manager being a bit unsavory, so that will cause a delay, if not entirely set you back some time. Really now, you must have realized finding a professional therapist would have been a much safer move… Excuse me, Ms.Mulberry, can I inquire why-

“You will not. Now keep talking.”

“Ms.Mulberry you seem rather upset, perhaps-

“You’re wondering why I decided to not use my mimicry to disguise a face for myself today. Oh believe me, I would have loved to walk in here a mass of sludge with eyes and teeth all over but it turns out human society doesn’t really like that too much. Having a head with no eyes to look at is a courtesy I am giving you. It’s more than you deserve. What the fuck is all this talk of we? You weren’t even at the last fucking meeting. Our lawyer wasn’t even at the last fucking meeting!”

“You’re clearly distressed, you should leave the premises immed-

“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T GET TO TALK!... Just shut up and listen. There is no we. As far as I am aware, this bullshit lawsuit against your clinic is the most roundabout way to specifically get me into a criminal court considering this incident didn’t even take place in hyper city. The lawyer I was given is somehow less competent than you are! Do you know how much time I’ve spent these past two months learning, specifically, Hyper city legal jargon? How overly complex a nexus point’s laws have to be to account for literally anything! And you left us to sink or swim! I could pass the fucking bar exam here if I wanted to at this point! And the worst part, oh my god the worst part. It cost me everything. I can’t so much as afford a hot dog on the way back home now. Because you’re some blinding asshole who thinks I should have to pay for everything! Well you know what? Perhaps you should be the one paying now! I am going to drag you down into the mud with me. Do you really think I don’t know why you never showed up, why I had to do everything? Because what's one experiment to you? Scape-goat, lab-rat, guinea pig, a mimicry of something human no longer. The second your clinic was in the clear, you left me to fend for myself. I can't believe I had an ounce of pity for you. When you comforted my decision to stop at my crossroad I actually thought you cared about me. That there was someone that could understand my fears!”

“Mayday that was what I was doing! I saw someone in pain and I did my best! I-

“Your best?! Oh my. Ha. Hahahaha. You don't even get it yourself do you? No you idiot! You comforted us because you saw the last shred of our humanity and told us to never let go of it. You're not clever Theodore. Inside that mind of yours whether you admit it or not, the second we start this treatment, you see all of us as inferior and beneath you. You self-righteous bastard. You know what, how about I let you talk. Won't cut you off this time. I want you to explain to me what your goal is. Why do you help us when you could simply refuse? Why put yourself through this? 

“And if I don’t feel the need to justify my actions to someone threatening me? What if I were to call security to drag out a crazed patient? What would you do then?”

“What would I do? I'll know the second you push that panic button, and we both know what we can do to a human body. Don’t make me go through that again.”

“Right then, I suppose I'll have to give you a truth that will satisfy you in this clear state of psychosis brought about by a clear lack of sleep and several stressors.” 

“We both know you're nowhere near trained to be a psychiatrist. Stick to working with hormone levels Mr. endocrinologist.”

“You want the truth? Fine, How's about this? Some witch had weird friends and made a promise of a lot of money if I sold her magic as a medicine. Happy? No? Of course not! That's not what you're asking you frea- No. I won't let you get the better of me. You want to know why I stuck around. Why after all these years I haven't retired… I really could, couldn't I. There are other doctors, for over a year I haven't been the only one supplying this stuff. I've had my fair share of attacks both verbally and physically from both sides of this city. I'm not sticking around because I have to, I've made enough breakthroughs and connections to create my own hormonal formulas without the need of the witch who dragged me in this business in the first place. There are so many reasons to retire and let my legacy live on in the scientific textbooks of all worlds. But no. The truest reason I fight for this clinic is to see people who walk through these doors happy! I see dozens of brilliant and kind souls walk through this door, ones who had the unfortunate fate of being born in the wrong body! I am giving my time, life, reputation, and money to help people because that is its own rewar- Stop growling! You said no interruptions!”

“Well you're clearly lying to yourself if you actually think seeing us happy is your end goal. Or were you not paying attention when I had to remind you that you abandoned me in a court case that shouldn't have even legally happened. They spent half their time trying to get the victim, my god damn girlfriend, to indict me as a crazed lunatic. If their goal was to crush me mentally and physically then they succeeded. Otherwise it was just a waste of time. I can’t even fathom how much time they must have if spending it going after an otherkin that slightly bothered them is possible! There is one thing that I got out of it though. There is one glimmer of light in this forsaken tunnel. Because that useless lawyer let me get a look at all the documentation of this clinic. Maybe the reason for this case was just for them to get a look at it. Find something to pin you with. Either way I guess everything you do is legal since they never went after you about it. But still, getting to read everything you’ve ever done has been quite the eye opener. Every experiment and procedure you’ve ever done.”

“And? As you already said, everything I’ve done is above the board and… Wait, you couldn’t possibly think of leaking those to the general public? You shouldn't even have them anymore. Making copies like that is illegal! If you leak those documents then you’ll go down with me. This is all a bluff to you.”

“Erian, you should know better than anyone how well we can disappear. Or how well we could make you disappear. Besides, for the record, I never said I made copies, but perhaps I might have. I just want you to know exactly where we stand. You hurt me, but I’m not so petty as to hurt you back. Instead you’re going to give me a job here. As an assistant.”

“This might be the worst job interview I’ve ever held. You do realize blackmail makes an awful resume don’t you? But I can’t exactly decline now can I. Tell me Mayday. What happened to the young woman who came here scared yet excited for a better life? You once said you wanted to work here before, but resort to this kind of behavior. Why even take a job here? It would make your bargaining chip even worse for you than for me?”

“Look, despite everything. What you’ve done to us, what you’ve done to others. Everything I learned. I, don't hate you. It’s not in my nature. I am quite literally doing this because it is my only option to not starve. And despite my attempts to hate you this whole confrontation I can't hold onto it for long. I get that what you think you're doing is some greater good for therians. But you're not the misunderstood hero you think you are. You're just seeking attention. Doesn't matter if it's good or bad you just end up making awful problems for everyone in the name of research that at best, will only ever appear in a science textbook, and you know that. Look, it's ok, I get what it’s like to seek that sort of validation. I could help you. Please, just give me the job.”

“You are wrong about me Mayday, you consider me obsessed with my image of a hero but perhaps your delusions about me are simply your obsession. I don't have a choice in giving you a job. I suppose I'll find something for you that's out of the way. I can’t say I'm excited to work with you. But perhaps you'll make a good legal advisor for now if you're as well versed in law as you say you are. No, trusting you with that would be a mistake, we’ll start you off as a janitor perhaps, I’m sure your body’s makeup should help you in that field. Besides, janitors are already basically invisible to everyone else, I’m sure your mimic mind would prefer that.”

“Oh no, we are not ending this conversation like that. Legal advisor? Janitor? Are you trying to make us angry again? No, I'm staying as far away from those kinds of positions as possible! You'll be paying for my degree and I'm working directly as an assistant. This isn't something you can negotiate!”

“I think you’ll find that it is! Because as far as I’m concerned, you’ll settle for any job. You don’t have the power to demand what position I find for you. The second you have this job, it becomes too valuable to destroy. You will accept this role or you will sink us both. Do I make myself clear?”

“I- I could attack you. You know a bite from me could kill you! I’ll do it!”

“You’ve already played your hand Mayday, I know most of this conversation was just a bluff from you anyways. Be thankful that, if I feel generous enough, I’ll forget this little incident when the time comes that I can secure this clinic’s future without fear of your threats. I do see many brilliant souls walk through this door. It’s a shame you weren’t one of them. But, I’m someone who cares about my patients despite your attacks on my character. I’ll give you one last chance to convince me why I shouldn’t give you the worst possible job I could find.”

“I- You’re right. This is just a bluff. I can’t even call it a roar, this is just my last whimper before I lose everything. I don’t. There’s nothing left after today. Abi can’t afford to take care of me. Going back home is what caused this mess in the first place. Theo, I’m here because you are my last lifeline. You can decline my employment if you want. I never actually copied the evidence I saw. I’m just a mimic of empty threats. My last echo before I disappear. I’m just scared. We lost.”

“Mayday… You are certainly good at trying my patience as well as heartstrings. Fine then, I’ll overlook these threats of yours as brought about by desperation. You will never state to the public what rumors they might have claimed as evidence, and you will be worked down to the bone- er, tooth, as an assistant. Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh my stars thank you!”

“Please do not mention it.”

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[qvrcll]

posing (as a playboy centerfold)

summary: loving ellie is as simple as it can be. the routine you fall into is painless, so easy it threatens to tear past what has been. but can you ever set still this palpable, throbbing heart that feels for her?

warning: showering together, nudity mentioned, mention of injuries / old wounds / stitch wounds, established relationship but pining still, just some word vomit tbh !!

a/n: hi! it’s been a WHILE! but i’ve seriously gone through a rollercoaster of emotions because i came upon the realisation that being burnt out can make it seem like you’ve literally lost your ability to write and in my fear of trying to keep up with requests, i literally couldn’t write a single sentence i could like. this is something i’ve managed that i don’t completely hate :,] college melodrama is coming soon btw!! thank u to every single one of u who has shown it support, i love u all :,]

bathing with ellie is a simple, domestic routine you fall into. there’s no set-back’s, no restrictions and no effort on either end as you perch yourself into the commodity of the tub, body spent and leeching with the spread of its efforts. there’s that bruise you’d bottled on the trip with tommy for supplies on your thigh that still remains despite your effort to rid of it. if you want to search for them, your bruises and wounds show, even against the kiss of the water in the tub, red, tinged mauve and showing up blood orange with time. there’s history in everything, you think, as you relax against the ceramic sweep against your body, before her voice sounds,

“what are you thinking about?”

you turn your head, smile already swallowing your face when you catch the height of ellie against the bathroom door. she’s half naked, jeans shimming down her hips as she quickly presses her palms against the wall for balance. she snickers when she sees you comically flout your arms against the edge of the tub, goading with a smile as you take it all in. take a while to just admire her.

“take a picture, it would last longer,” she presses on, the laugh spent in her voice as she’s bare now, completely. there’s the bruise on her shoulder from last week, when she’d caught that foetid fall upon the stone and hedge of her foes, or the blunting image of that stitch wound she’d given herself after she’d cut the skin open on that abrasive ground maria had always warned everyone about. her arms are littered with the testament of her past endeavours — scratches, marks, something admirable and accomplished that she’s glazed with that makes it incredibly hard to skirt your eyes off of. and she’s level enough with you to notice the lucidity of your stare. but instead of words, she joins you in the bath.

the water oddly rises and sets with her body behind yours, some of it sneaking onto the floor but you can’t seem to care when she’s pinioning her weight against your back in a way that’s so obvious, it burns — her fingers, lithe and callous as you’ve discerned them to be, roam the tight space between you and the water and you look at her with that knowing glare, that slip of your shoulders that ask ‘ellie, where do you think your hands are going?’ and she’ll laugh against that safe-spot she’s borrowed into the liberty of your neck. and the further she goes, the more she presses into your skin slovenly little kid who’s got a hint of candy for the very first time, the more you’re realising none of this ever does stop. this loving, this push-and-pull de-facto she’s got going with you, this lambency you’ve let live inside of you.

it’s all so real that it scares you.

you turn around, promptly, facing her but not really. your eyes are as assailable as they can be, but they’re sprouting lower, sailing on a nerve and landing on the skin of her arms, the brawn of her shoulders. she catches your ambulant gaze and fixes a smirk, is in the thick of a smirk, when her body goes cold like meat in your very tub.

“what… are you doing…?”

her voice is far from its usual front, now reduced to an embarrassed purr as she regulates the feeling that punches against her like a brute. tries to fine-tune the notion that you’re quite literally touching her, feeling the skin of her mid section, assessing it like you were to be the town’s next medico. you look up, obviously, because you’ve never heard her this splintered before, thinking you’ve vaulted too far before you’re realising with a lissom smile that oh, she’s so very flustered with you just feeling her.

“what does it look like i’m doing?”

you poke her on, watch her face burst into flames, her words mitigate into quiet fluxes of ‘i don’t know what you’re doing… just like… touching my belly? what are you doing?’

and you literally have to carve the words out that you’re admiring her. reaching for her scars in spite of the intrusion of the water. pawing the rough and unearthed parts of her in the wet of it. coursing her like wet mud for excavators to dig through. like she’s the moon strung on a string. but you can’t. can’t fit the words onto your tongue, even in the teeth of your belief, even if you splice and section it to be statable.

your love for ellie is taking a space in your heart, lettering something illegible, holding the memory of her so close, so taut, that all you can say is,

“i love you.”

© 2023 qvrcll. Do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

So...I have an update I'd like to give on my big tma analysis posts.

As I'm sure anyone who's been following them have noticed, these posts have been on hiatus for quite a while now, and...there's quite a few reasons for that, which I'd like to finally share. I'll go into more detail below the cut, but...it is for these reasons that I have ultimately decided to quit putting these posts out in their current form. I'm not going to stop sharing my thoughts, feelings and analysis on tma alltogether, far from it, but...I am going to drastically change the way I share those thoughts, feelings and analysis with others. Here's why.

Also, I’m going to make this my new pinned post, so here’s a link to the old one containing all of my previous tma analysis posts.

I want to start off by saying that...overall, writing these posts over the past seven months or so has been a wonderful experience, seriously. With massive hyperfixations like this, it can usually be hard to properly express everything I think about them, especially given how I usually have very little people to talk to about my interests in the first place. But writing these posts...has honestly kind of fixed that. I've been able to say almost everything I want to about this amazing work of fiction, document my experience listening to it for the first time, and meet some really kind people who are into the same thing as me, and are always offering lovely support for my writing. It's one of the most emotionally validating experiences I've ever had, and I cannot stress how grateful I am to everyone's who's offered me support and encouragement. However, while I have no intention of throwing this all away...the way I've decided to write these posts has admittedly led to a number of not so great things for my life and psychological state, and I would rather do away with those.

Firstly, it's no secret to anyone who's been reading these that they have been getting progressively longer and longer, to the point where my previous post on the final 10 episodes of Season 2 was the length of a goddamn novel. But...as much as I've tried to deny it, that ever expanding length has been making it more and more of a slog to write these. Like...the currently work-in-progress post on the first 10 episodes of Season 3, which isn't even halfway done, is already at roughly 60k words, and...I feel like that's a bit too much. And the thing is...I absolutely love tma, truly, but...listening to it has basically become a chore due to the monumental task I've put upon myself, and...I don't want it to feel like that. I want listening to tma to be something I can do for fun, and this...isn't always fun.

The feeling I get when I complete a part of the post on a certain episode, or read a lovingly made reply is still one of the best feelings I've ever had, but...I really want to go back to being able to listen to tma as a leisurely and pleasurable way of spending my time, rather than a duty I'm obliged to. I want to be able to catch up and get the chance to listen to The Magnus Protocol alongside the rest of the fandom as new episodes come out, a goal that is becoming more and more unrealistic as time goes on given the amount of time it takes me to write about an episode, let alone mentally unpack it with how much is happening.

It...might not come as much of a suprise that as of now, the most recent episode of tma I have listened to is MAG 85: Upon the Stair. An absolutely brilliant episode that I loved for its amazing storytelling and use of The Spiral, but...also one where it feels like an impossible task to write something coherent about. I spent literal weeks trying to write something that I felt expressed my thoughts on this episode in a clear way, but...I just couldn't do it, and it became harder and harder to write the more I put it off. I haven't even felt like I’m able to listen to the podcast I'm writing about in the first place ever since, all because I've been trying to jump over this very mentally taxing hurdle. Now, I assure you that I am not canning this entire project simply because of one intentionally impossible to comprehend episode. If I wanted to, I could very well just...skip writing about the episode and then continue onwards. But...I mention this because ultimately, the episode highlighted a lot of problems with my way of putting these out for me. It made me reach a point where I could no longer deny the fact that...writing these posts was not something I was doing for fun anymore. Not because of the quality of the show or because of pressure being put on me from others, far from it. Let me be perfectly clear when I say that tma is just as good as it has always been, if not the best it's ever been, and all of you have been nothing but extremely polite and ridiculously patient any time I've mentioned my struggles with writing. Rather...I think that by chaining myself to a responsibility I created, I have made this task less fun for myself, and...I don't think I can make it fun again without heavily changing the way that I approach it. This is all a very long-winded way of saying that...I want to enjoy myself. I want to get back to listening to tma for fun, I want to at the very least be able to listen to the final season of tmagp for the first time alongside other people, and...I just want to feel a bit more free.

However, it's not just my self-destructive behavior that's making it harder for me to write these. As I've mentioned before, it's quite frequent that I'm prevented from writing these...simply due to general life circumstances, some more negative than others. Right now, I'm...at a point in my life where I'm figuring a lot of things out, both in terms of how I feel about myself and in terms of how I'm going to approach life going forward. . You see, if I'm being completely honest, the reason I've been able to write posts these long in the first place is because...well, for one thing it's my autism and likely ADHD that I'm trying to get diagnosed and medicated for, the latter of which is...one of quite a few big stressful things that have been going on these past couple of months. But that aside...I've been a mostly shut-indoors person with a lot of free time on their hands, both of which are gradually waning over time. Right now, I'm trying to get out in the world a bit more, make some new friends and try some new things, and the preparation I'm doing for my exams is getting more and more serious and time-consuming by the day, and...hopefully, if I can get through these exams, I'll be able to leave the currently online-only school I'm at and finally get back out into the open world. ...Ok that got personal real quick, but my point it...there's a lot going on in life for me, and as much as I really do cherish all of this writing and rambling about this thing I really like...even I can realize that there's a point where the line is drawn, and I have to set my priorities straight. Right now, I'm discovering my place in the world, moving on to the next part of my life, even trying out some new hobbies when I get the chance, and...that might just mean I have to put these posts to the side.

Overall...I really do hate to do this. Like...a lot. I understand that this is probably pretty disappointing, especially after nearly two months of complete radio silence, and believe me, it's disappointing to me as well. I...felt really confident that I would be able to do this for...what will one day become 290 episodes of Magpod. But...I think I've needed to realize for a while now that...the way I'm writing these posts isn't doing me many favors. With how full my plate is going to become over the course of the next year or so, and with how I've been feeling about this whole project...I think I have to unfortunately give it a premature death.

....Well...not exactly. ...Come on, you didn't REALLY think I was going to put my spooky podcast hyperfixation in the garbage like that, did you? No way. Not a chance in hell. As I've said, listening to this podcast and being able to talk about it with all of these amazing people is one of the best things to ever happen to me, and I am not about to throw that experience to the wayside just like that. I still want to find a way to post all my thoughts and theories on this lovely work of art, and talk about it with other people, just...maybe in a way that's not nearly as much of an expense of my time and energy. Because, like...as cathartic as it is to gaze upon my 80,000 word long wall of text, it...really doesn't give me much more than an ego boost and bragging rights, and...those are not nearly as valuable to me as all of the stuff I just mentioned. Hell, I don't think the overall format of my posts is necessary to get my points across...at all. Like, yeah, I think it has a pretty nice structure, but...I don't think I need to re-itterate myself nearly as much as I do, and...be honest, are the recaps of episodes REALLY all that needed? Because...like...I know that they can be helpful to anyone reading them who hasn't listened to tma in a while, but...sorry if this is blunt, but if you REALLY can't remember some miscellaneous detail I mention...honestly just google it. Like...I swear I am not going to try and gaslight you in my tma analysis posts, unless it's in a funny Michael-core way. Basically, all of this is a...fittingly long-winded way of saying that I'm still going to be posting my thoughts on tma, just...in a different form. Here's the plan.

Rather than release super comprehensive gigantic essays every ten episodes, I think I'm going to just opt to release short little...collections of bullet points, which will put out my thoughts, feelings and theories on the episode I just listened to (most of the time anyways, if I for whatever reason don't have the time to make one then I'll just put my thoughts alongside the post for the next episode), albeit in a much more informal, insane brainrot, freaking out all over the place sort of way. ...Ok, that's hyperbole, I'll still try my best to sound coherent. It might not be nearly as structured as my previous way of writing this, but it'll be way easier for me to write and much less time-consuming, while still hopefully managing to get everything I want to say out there for other people to see. Hell, doing it like this might make it so that it's easier for others to digest, and might display thoughts that are even fresher in my mind as well.

And...even then, I still want to put out the occasional big essay post here and there. Probably not as big as something like my last Season 2 post, but...just a lot more of a structured and well thought out script if you catch my drift. These won't be coming out on any sort of clear and discernable schedule mind you, just...whenever I both feel like it and have the time to write it. If there's an episode, character or concept that I feel really deserves a deep dive, or a big grandiose theory that I want to explain in great detail, then...that'll get its own dedicated post. I already know that I want to make a big post all about Michael whenever his character finally gets some more explanation, along with a post detailing my overall thoughts and feelings on the podcast both after I finish MAG 200 and for when The Magnus Protocol finishes, probably some retrospective stuff much later down the line, and likely a bunch of other stuff that hasn't even crossed my mind yet. Rest assured that...I am not stopping any time soon. I still want to use this blog to talk about this podcast in some way, shape or form as I make my way through it, I just...might need to change my method of doing so into something that's...a little bit nicer to myself. And hey, if you have any suggestions as to how I continue this going forward, please let me know. If anyone wants to see what I had initially planned for my first post on Season 3, that's still in my drafts and I'd be more than willing to post it, even if it feels a little bit anticlimactic. I just hope that the people who have enjoyed hearing my thoughts will be willing to stick around, even if I express those thoughts a little bit differently. :) ...And before anyone says it I am more than aware of the irony of writing an essay about why I refuse to write essays.

Well...thanks to everyone who read this. I hope that everyone's ok with my decision here. Ultimately, there is a part of me that will miss the feeling of being able to marvel at posts so big that I made, but...at the end of the day, if I can find a way to finally feel unconstrained by self-inflicted tasks every day without guilt, and make greater progress in my social, personal and academic life, AND still be able to share my thoughts on tma with others despite all of that, then...I think the essay format is a sacrifice I'm (mostly) willing to make. Maybe doing this might also allow me to share other creations of mine on this hellsite if people are at all interested. I'm trying to get better at drawing and would love to post some art for both tma and other hyperfixations when I'm feeling more confident, and maybe write things for other topics as well. ...I don't know how many people who follow me are familiar with Hollow Knight lore, but I've been replaying the game for a Steel Soul run after a good while of not having touched it, and...let's just say that I have made some interesting discoveries that I haven't seen anyone else talk about before. But...that's a topic for another time. Anyways, I'd just like to put out some special thanks to some of the biggest supporters of this whole project, even if it's earlier than I expected to do so.

@b100k, for introducing me to tma in the first place and being an overall great friend who always lets me incoherently ramble about an episode immediately after I finish it.

Both @theguiltinessisyours and @spookygiantturtleshoe-blog for always having left lovely replies on my posts ever since they discovered them

And finally, anyone who has taken the time to read, like, reblog or reply to even one of these posts at any point in time. As corny as it sounds, all of you really do make my day a little bit brighter every time I see one of you :)

Well...that's all from me. Once again, thanks so much for reading, and...I hope you'll enjoy whatever I make next.

[seraph-of-sizes]

Broken Homes of Different Sizes pt2

Borrower Lyney and Lynette, Human Freminet (Slight au with borrowers existing, everything else is the same as canon)

--------------------------------

Freminet was exhausted.

When the House of the Hearth had changed hands, he thought it to be of no consequence to him. He would just follow the orders of the new caretaker and vanish into the background again.

Wrong.

The new caretaker was a literal Harbinger. Number Four, the Knave.

Honestly he could admit to himself that the first impressions of her left him terrified. The way she spoke, how she held herself. She was so confident in a way Freminet could never imagine for himself. 

She had spent the time to meet with each orphan within the Hearth personally, and his meeting with her had been the most stressful encounter he had to date. Not even watching his claymore drip with the blood of his targets held a candle to the focus he had to have to maintain his composure.

She had reduced his tasks to simple espionage. The blood he was used to was now replaced with fake prop blood. He was placed behind enemy lines as a helpless child that needed to be taken care of. It still had orders to follow, but now he had to navigate social situations as well. Intel gathering was alright, but that meant speaking to people.

So he would usually spend hours in the oceans to clear his mind before returning home, or on especially exhausting days he would skip the trip and go straight home. 

But spending more time in his home, he began to notice things. What he had originally chalked up to mice was more… methodical. Planned out, paper wasn’t chewed up but cut cleanly. Small slits in food bags that were practically unnoticeable, which should have been more obviously ripped. 

It reminded him of some older fairytales about creatures called Borrowers.

He almost ignored it, if there were borrowers here they were just trying to lives their lives, just like him. But he couldn’t help the small curiosity in his heart as he reread all of his books on the tiny race. It was the one thing he began to look forward to. 

He started buying more foods, stuff he could leave out for them, but it also meant he was eating better than he had in a while. His own health became a side thought  when completing an order after all.

It was after a horrible day where he had disappointed Father that he saw them for the first time. He had performed his task perfectly, however while returning to the Hearth to report back he had been attacked by some Treasure Hoarders.

He was already tired from his mission, and it was one that required him to leave his claymore at the Hearth. All he had to defend himself was a knife and his vision.

He yelped as an arrow lodged into his shin as he jumped off of a cliff and dove into the water. To avoid them following him or tracking him he would have to swim far past the meeting spot. He grumbled softly as he realized he would have to emerge from the water, dress his wound, and still trek for 10 minutes to the spot.

He was going to be late for certain.

“I’m disappointed in you, Freminet.” He hid his flinch at The Knave’s silent jeer. “Late and injured because you let your guard down.”

He swallowed roughly, keeping his mouth firmly shut. After all, machines do not speak unless they are told to.

“Hm. I suppose you have been working quite diligently. Take a week to rest, perhaps I’ve pushed you too far with all of these tasks back to back.” She hummed. “You are dismissed.”

“Yes Father.” He bowed and carefully walked away, only to nearly collapse once he was out of her sight. He placed a hand to his chest and could feel his heart fluttering like a bird trapped in a cage. He took deep breaths as he retrieved his claymore, aptly named ‘the Bell’ for its likeness to a clock, one that could be cranked to chime on certain hours.

The trek to his ‘house’ was a slow one, he took his time, but stuck to alleyways since he still had some fake blood still caked on his skin. He winced as he noticed his wound had bled through the gauze and was leaving a trail of red behind him.

He picked up his pace. The sooner he could get home, the sooner he could wash up and redress his leg.

He fumbled with his keys before walking into the empty home. Perhaps he could make some sort of perpetual music box to fill the silence.

He leaned his claymore against the wall and collapsed onto his couch. He knew he should get cleaned up as soon as possible, but his mind was forcing him to feel all of the emotions he had repressed from the day. 

He stared into space, trying desperately to lock them all back into a tiny box, then throw away the key. But the damn box wouldn’t stay closed!

“Father said I mustn't cry…” He whispered, tears pooling in his eyes, no matter how long he held them open. A choked whimper left his throat as the first tear fell, then another.

He tried. Really he did.

At least he knew better than to cry loudly, the silent tears were accompanied by an occasional hiccup, but after a few moments they were forced back. 

A gentle ticking made him sigh as he wiped his face. He slowly stood up and turned towards the kitchen to get a quick snack before his wash.

His eyes widened in shock as the soft gasp that came from what looked like a tiny girl, stood shock-still on his countertop. Panic response in crisis, Fight, Flight, Fawn, Freeze.

She was obviously the Freeze type.

“H-hello?” He greeted awkwardly, taking a slow step forwards. Just as he was going to introduce himself a hiss left him as the sharp pinprick of pain that brought all of his attention back to the wound on his leg.

He blinked as he watched the girl race off, aided by anemo somehow. It wasn’t until he noticed the ousia residue from her attack as it reacted with his neuma alignment that he realized she must have a vision.

Which was almost more startling that discovering her in the first place. After all visions are given out by Celestia, so therefore the heavens must view Borrowers as people.

Ugh, his head was starting to ache, and his leg was starting to burn. He glanced down only for his eyes to widen as the small arrow buried in his leg, the fletches of the arrow smoking from Pyro infusement.

So there are two.

Mulling over that thought, Freminet removed the tiny arrow, placing it on the counter. He then went and cleaned himself off, redressed his leg with proper bandages, even ate some restorative medicine.

Once that was done he returned to the main room, his curiosity eating at him. He had to figure out more about his roommates before it would let him sleep. The fact it felt like a recon mission has nothing to do with it.

Slowly he denoted every possible entry and exit point, and multiple holes in the walls. After thoroughly memorizing it all, he began to try to locate their built spaces in the walls. Echolocation wasn’t just for bats, a lot of marine life used something similar. Sharks, whales, and more.

Freminet frowned as he walked to the other side of the massive bookshelf. Another knock confirmed his suspicions.

Carefully he pulled the massive paperweight away from the wall, grinning triumphantly as he heard the pitch of the knock change dramatically.

Found them.

[hi-its-meg]

I invited a whole bunch of people to a night out at my favorite restaurant. I don’t socialize often so I expected maybe 3 people to say yes. Last night there was 16 of us. 15 people showed up for me and were so excited to see me and we all had a great time together. I am so loved and lately I really feel it.

I got a raise at work and I’m taking on more hours now. An extra day each week and I’m not cutting my days short this summer like I have the past 2 because it gets so crazy and hot. Last year I couldn’t mentally or physically handle that and now I’m not sweating it at all. My body can handle it because I’m finally medicated for my problems.

I’m trying so hard to get the whole driving thing down and I think my efforts are starting to pay off. I’m not panicking as much when driving, things are becoming more automatic for me, and I’m trusting my judgement more. I still have a long way to go but I’m really making an effort now. I want to succeed, I want independence. A friend of mine is moving an hour away to open their own coffee shop and I want to be able to visit them and cheer them on and that means being able to drive there.

I am completely out of credit card debt & medical debt and I should have enough time between now and my surgery to either cover it all in cash or only finance a small amount on a no interest plan. Very grateful that having a good credit score allows me to have that option.

My surgery is no longer some far off hope- it’s real and it’s happening and I have a date. Just 6 months away. I’m working through the fact that I will have a giant scar wrapping around my entire body but I trust my surgeon. I have too much loose skin on my back to get a normal tummy tuck. That appointment was so validating. It’s all skin. There’s nothing else I could do to make it better. No amount of weight loss at this point would help- I’m actually not allowed to lose any more weight between now and then because my weight can’t go under a certain amount and he wants to take as much skin as possible. Many people get a lot of liposuction when having this surgery but he says there’s literally no fat besides a tiny bit by my armpit that he will remove. I just have so much skin. It is so beyond expensive but it’s less than I expected it to be. It is going to be worth it.

This is the year of getting what I want. I’m done just waiting around feeling sorry for myself and I’m finally ready to put in the work. I’ve spent the past few years just rotting and I’m just done. I want friends who genuinely like me. I want to be independent. I want to get my shit together. I want my surgery. I want to move on with my life. And I’m going to do it.

[queenpiranhadon]

Just gonna vent a bit

This past week has been extremely stressful and I’m just done.

I’m a theatre kid - I love performing - and we have a show coming up this week and preparing for that is just so draining because apparently since I’m a cat and the costume they gave me has a masquerade style cat mask with ears, I’m not allowed to wear my freaking glasses and no one realizes that I have really bad eyesight - not so bad that I can’t walk or function completely - but if you were me - you’d realize how fucking terrifying it is when the world around you is blurry and you feel like you’re going dizzy except you’re not because this is just the damn body you’re born in.

To add on to all the stress, I have to maintain my grades and it’s just so exhausting because it’s like “test!” “test!” “review!” “review!” “oh you got a 96%?” “do better! you can’t keep distracting yourself with all this spending time with friends”

Mixed with “you never leave the house - why don’t you go out with friends?” Maybe it’s because YOU DONT LET ME.

And to top it all off, my dad is leaving for India tomorrow- and he just got back from another business trip within but still far in the country.

Tomorrow is also my brother’s birthday - my dad was supposed to leave yesterday, but he changed it so he could be here for my brother’s birthday.

How sweet and caring and thoughtful of him right?

And yes, I get that my dad is a very hardworking man and I’m very proud of him and his accomplishments but he never cares. It’s always about my perfect little brother who is far from perfect if you ask me. No matter what I do it’s always “be better!” “do better!” “you’ve been given a privilege and you’re putting it to waste!” With him, it’s always “we believe in you!” “we’ll help you through this!!” “no matter what, we’ll always love you.”

His punishments for doing literally terrible things are so small, yet when my parents find out I’m not straight, they give me emotional trauma for months. The little fucker literally trashed the neighbor’s front yard with a friend on purpose and then when confronted about it, lies straight through his teeth.

But here’s the real topping to the cake - yes I do love my parents, no matter how many times we may disagree on things, they are my rock and I wouldn’t be where I am without them. But this one small thing they couldn’t do for me. My dad goes out of his way to make sure he is there for my brother’s birthday but he isn’t there for mine last year. Last year when he left for a trip, he missed my musical’s show nights - had to watch it on a stupid hard drive - and when he did, he never said a goddamn thing. No “good job, your singing and acting was great!” or “I wish I could’ve been there in person!”

And even now, he’s still doing the same goddamn thing - he’s missing the show I’m doing and doesn’t feel a single ounce of remorse. All my fucking hard work for nothing.

It just fucking sucks when others seems to get what you want, what you need so easily, when you’ve worked your entire life to experience barely a ghost of what could’ve been.

And finally today, my brother is lying on the floor of my room, refusing to leave me the fuck alone even though I’ve been annoyed all day from walking around shopping for shit and sitting through church and trying to keep a clear head even though I just really want to go home and take a long nap but I can’t because the little fucker and trashing the room I spent all week trying to keep clean and my mom won’t do a goddamn thing because “it’s your brother and he’s just playing with you.”

And at this point- I’m just done. Because no one gets it. No one ever does.

And so I say something along the lines of “You’re turning — tomorrow. When I was your age, I was working hard, and auditioning and competing and you’re here lying on the floor of your older sister’s bedroom completely useless.”

And yes I admit that was a little harsh - he started crying - but my mom’s response was what got me.

She said “never call you brother useless again. Keep your achievements to yourself, you hear me?! I have never heard you this mean to anyone before.”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what I go through every day m, trying to keep my head high and my eyes looking forward even though I can’t see anything.

She doesn’t know, my dad doesn’t know, my brother doesn’t know, heck, most of my friends don’t even know. They all just think I’m a smart girl who’s never had a problem with her position, getting to where she is in life.

They don’t know how hard I work, how hard I worked, to keep my shaky feet on the ground, to keep myself standing tall when there’s nothing to keep me up.

For those who surely don’t need to know, I’ve been crying while typing all of this, and I’m exhausted so I’m ending this here.

Sorry for unexpectedly trauma dumping - I just needed shit off of my chest.

Hope y’all are doing okay!

Lotsa love from Kae <3