#if i weren't the person receiving it that is

[eldritchhimejoshi]

Fuck, this is awakening tons of buried memories. The way in which people treat retail workers, especially when we're black, is the kinda shit that would make John Brown take up arms.

I remember working my job over summer after my senior year before college, and receiving multiple parents basically tell their kids to focus on school or they'd "end up like me." These people didn't know me, what acceptances I got, or the fact that they're so fucking lazy and entitled as to never even look for their items. The fact I was retail and they weren't was a dynamic as sharp and evil as an enslaved person and a slave-owner where anything they wanted to believe of me, say about me, or use me for was valid in their eyes. While I was expected to be a good little slave and take it.

Give retail workers fucking peace goddess damn it! Especially those who never want to go back because there's no thanks in being a slave to the shittiest people in 'need' of their daily abuse victim.

People always gloss over how mentally damaging it can be to work in retail. I fucking hate that whenever I say “I could never work in retail again” someone has to reply “You snowflake millennials can’t take a starter job because you have to INTERACT with other people” No. Fuck you. I’ve worked as a planetarium host. I’ve worked as a public speaker. I’ve worked as a tutor and as a student teacher. I can work with people. I can work with crowds. Retail was fucking different. Retail was being treated as a subhuman. Retail was being treated so poorly that you have anxiety attacks before work. Having to work retail was a factor in my last suicide attempt. If I hear you say one fucking word about retail workers playing the victim I will personally break every bone in your body. Fuck You.

[harringtonsbnbg]

Juno • S.H

♡ a/n: oh hi! my first steve oneshot ever! I'm a little bit nervous but drunk enough to not care! hope however read this, likes it!

♡ pairing: boyfriend!steve x girlfriend!reader

♡ summary: While waiting for Steve’s pie to get ready, you and him spend some time together, talking about (and experiencing) making babies together.

♡ warnings: inspired by the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, established relationship, kissing, no use of y/n, SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pillow talk, breef talk of pregnancy. This onesehot is +18, therefore MDNI!

♡ word count: 1700k

♡ dividers by: @cafekitsune

“I can feel you staring, you know?”

You couldn't help it, not when Steve was bending over the balcony of his kitchen, carefully cutting out the pie dough to make some kind of pie art that he insisted to keep as a surprise from you.

“Oh I do, but you know, your butt looks really amazing on those pants”

“Oh my god, you're making me feel so objectified right now.” He scoffed.

You let out a laugh as you let your head fall back, and waited patiently for Steve to finish his handmade art. You got back to your book, quickly remembered since you couldn't stare at your boyfriend for too long.

As the minutes passed by you got immersed in the story, not hearing Steve closing the oven, or even his steps to your direction, surprising you as he laid between your legs on the couch. You raised the book to the height of your forehead, making a little book cabin, and Steve got even closer as he passed under it.

“Hi” He said as your noses touched.

“Hi, pretty” You smiled.

He kissed you softly, not a worry in the world as he was in the arms of his favorite person, with a delicious pie ready in about 30 minutes.

You closed the book and put it away on the coffee table, running a hand through his hair and the other on his soft cheek.

You let out a sigh followed by a whine when he squeezed your waist, deepening the kiss and let his tongue roll over your mouth.

God, you love him so much, that sometimes feels like words weren't enough, you needed to show him physically, you wished he could mark you forever, and you him. As delusional as it sounds, you wished you could impregnate him, but were also happy with the idea of him impregnating you.

As Steve leads a trace of hot, open mouth kisses through your jaw and neck, you let your mind wonder, already drunk in love and lust.

“I love when you do that” You said, feeling Steve work harder on a spot to leave it a mark.

He hummed and then asked “Why is that?”

“Because you always leave a mark. I love it, it feels like you are marking me forever.” 

Your doe passionate eyes made his stomach flip, and Steve wondered if he could possibly be more in love with you.

Kissing him again, this time hungrier and if it's possible, more love, you let your hands travel down his shirt, going under it to gently scratch the skin on his ribs, making him shiver.

“I wish I could mark you forever.” Steve said in a brief moment when his mouth wasn't glued to your body.

Taking off his shirt and helping you with yours, Steve came down to your chest, feeling the hot skin and your hard nipples against him. With the urge to feel him closer, you started to push his sweater pants and boxers down, signaling to him to do the same with your pants.

Retracting your hands from his waistband, Steve only took off your clothes, with patience and a grin on his face.

“Calm down baby, we're in no rush.” 

You whine and was about to protest when he went down at your nipples, nibbling and sucking with such desire, taking his time with each one of them, then leaving a track of kisses and bites all over your stomach and inner thighs, getting closer to your core and making you shiver and squirm under his touch.

Wasting no time, Steve got between your legs in a heartbeat, working his lips and tongue, as you were sighing and finding his hair to pull.

With one hand looking for yours to interlace your fingers, his other was at your entrance, circling around, threatening to get in just to see your frustrating face when he didn't.

“Steve…” You tried to sound like a threat, but it came out as a desperate moan.

As he sucked your clit harder, his fingers finally founded their way in, making you gasp and pull at his hair with satisfaction, letting the most filthy sounds escape your open mouth.

You clenched around his fingers and buckled up your hips in his direction, in a urge to find even more pleasure, feeling Steve curving his fingers inside you.

“Yeah…” You sighed. “You’re always making me feel so good.”

“I know baby, it’s because I love you so much.”

Changing the pace of his tongue and the angle of his fingers, Steve was making you feel overwhelmed, rolling your eyes and letting out the pathetic moans and whines that he loved so much to hear. Steve moved your intertwined hands to your lower belly, applying pressure and making you get to the final stroke, moving your hips in his direction as you let out a high pitched moan and let your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling overwhelmed when he didn't stop stimulating you.

Your hands find his cheeks to push him up, smiling as you see his face half covered in your shining juices. As you open your mouth to speak, Steve attacks your lips in a hurry, passionate and deliciously wet kiss, making you gasp and melt again on his arms.

You could feel his hard dick every time he would stroke his hips into yours, and as you push your hips up as well, Steve fought hard for not to come in his pants.

Breaking up the kiss, he swiftly let go of his sweatpants and underwear, leaving his more than ready member free, gasping as it made contact with your warm tight. Your right hand grab his dick, slowly stroking it’s already wet tip, spreading his pre cum along his lenght. Steve let out a moan whenever your tumb come by his tip, and you just love hearing him beg for you to do something about his painful boner.

Feeling satisfied with his misery, you led his dick to you entrace, sighing when Steve start pushing into you and making you feel full. When he was fully inside, you pushed him into a hearty kiss that turn into a mess of moans and sighs as he start moving ina delicious and slow pace.

“Have you ever imagined-” You interrupted yourself with a high pungent moan when Steve touched a specific spot inside you. “Have you ever imagined what our kids would look like?” 

“Don’t say that.” Steve whined as he melted and hide his face in the conjecture of your neck and shoulder. 

“I’m serious, imagine two of me to make you go crazy. You would die!” You smiled trhough your panting breath.

“Oh, I would die with a smile.” Steve kissed your cheek. “I think about it every time baby, you have no idea how much I dream about it.”

You got lost in your line of though when your boyfriend change the pace, fast and mercly hitting your favorite spot, making you leave half moon marks on his back, showing the amount of pleasure he was giving to you.

“Would you let me but some babies inside you, my love?” He asked, the front of his face glued to the side of yours, following the movements of your body.

“Yes, please! I’m dying for you to give me more than butterflies!” You got your eyes rolling just thinking about it.

“Oh God, I’m going to fill you up every night, until you’re full with our babies” You feel yourself clenching around him at his words, and his strokes started to come in a erratic rhythm.  

“Stevie!” You whined when Steve found your weak spot righ under your ear, and combined with his tumb over your clit was making you close to reach your second orgasm. 

With Steve hitting you so deeply while his hand worked hard on your clit and his mouth on your neck, you couldn’t take for too long until you started combusting in a hot mess of moans and whines with him, feeling his cum going deep inside you when he kept stroking, making sure every last drop wouldn’t got to waste.

You search for his face that was hiding in your neck, longing for a kiss wicht he gave to you without a second though, melting into it with and let his body relax on top of yours. 

“I meant it” You say as your both breaths got serene. “I’ve been imagining what they would look like, and I’m getting lovesick over perfect little versions of us who doesn't even exist yet!”

“I meant it too, babe.” Steve got out of the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “I dream about having kids with you basically since the day we’ve met.”

“Well I guess we’ll just to try every single freaky position out there, just to make sure, right?” 

“Yeah right, couldn’t loose the chance!” Steve attack your face with kisses as you let out a laugh, pulling his hair.

The timer of the oven going off got you out of your little buble, forcing Steve to detlange himself from you as he rushed to get his pie before it burns.

“No! Stay for like, five more minutes!” You pout.

“I know this trap already babe,” He laughed. “Come with me, I made it just for you!”

He pulled his sweatpants back on and you grabbed his shirt and underwear, rushing after him to the kitchen, patiently waiting for him to reveal the secret adornments he had made on the top of the pie. When Steve pulled the pie out of the oven, you just wanted to jump on him out of cuteness and love, God he knew how to be adorable.

The dough that sat on the top of the pie was full of heart shaped pieces, adorning even the edges that started to turn into a darker shade, and you cold see the cherry filling through some blank spaces.

“Oh Steve, this is so adorably beautiful, I love it!” You could cry out of his sweetness with you. “I love you. So much.”

You kissed him passionately, wishing you could transfer all your love through it.

“I think I love you more, I mean look at this pie, you think you can compete with that?”

thank you for reading! if you enjoy it, likes and reblogs are always appreciated! see you soon!

[bunny-jpeg]

the company you keep

fernando alonso & lance stroll

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), threesome, convincing, oral sex (reader & fernando receiving), ditzy!reader, large chested!reader

like the fic? leave a comment or suggest your own! i love hearing new ideas and would love to take a crack at any ideas you have.

i am sorry to the 5 stollonso fans out there.

lance never thought that fernando would actually retire. he honestly thought that the older man was going to drive off somewhere and never be heard from again. but when whispers of his retirement started to fill the paddock, lance knew he had to act fast. he didn't need a new teammate, he needed fernando.

and it took dinner in montreal and putting those soft brown eyes to work to convince his darling, loving girlfriend to help him keep fernando on the team. with that boyish smile after two glasses of wine, he asked, "will you help me?"

and you, beautiful as ever replied, "of course, honey!" with an eagerness that almost made lance melt. anything for him, anything for the team, that was your personal motto.

so it took place after the canadian grand prix, you and lance's stomping ground. while the results of the race weren't spectacular for either driver, you were all smiles. you had on an aston martin t-shirt shirt that was a bit too small for your big breasts, and a short pleated skirt in white. paired with white tennis socks pulled up as high as they'd go and a pair of sneakers.

fernando couldn't believe it when you happily pulled him into your apartment with lance close behind. the older man didn't know what to expect when you placed a careful kiss on the corner of his mouth and the older driver was already smitten.

you pouted when you pulled away, "is racing not fun anymore, mister alonso?" this was your attempt to be seductive, as if your fat tits in his face and your pouty lips didn't have fernando weak in the knees.

lance wrapped his arms around fernando's waist and asked, "yeah, is it not anymore?"

fernando swallowed, he was trapped between two people almost half his age. but when you went in for the kiss, the concern left his head. especially when you giggled as he touched the bottom hem of your t-shirt.

"does someone want to me, sir?" you pressed your chest up against fernando's. you briefly looked to your boyfriend and giggled, "i think someone does?"

fernando replied, "who could resist you?" then his hands found your behind and he pulled you closer to him. he shuddered when lance's hands pulled at his t-shirt. the poor older driver was still sandwiched between you two. he felt the rush down to his cock when you lazily made out with lance while the both of you tried to get fernando shirtless.

when you pulled away, you got the shirt off of the driver before you took him by the arms and pulled him into your bedroom that you shared with your boyfriend.

"this feels a little... intimate."

"well, it can be. but you want to promise us something." you said as you took a hold of the bottom of your t-shirt. the poor fabric was straining, the logo stretched across your breasts.

lance was already shirtless and on the bed next to you. the devils in fernando's ear. the rational thing would be to leave and act like it never happened. but how was that possible when the devils were so pretty.

"anything." fernando replied.

you smiled at him, "promise not to leave us, okay? if you don't retire then we can do this all the time!" there was a joy to your voice that was the final straw for fernando. maybe he could hold out for a few more seasons. if you kept true to your word.

lance also added, "that means staying on the team too. means we'll be around each other more." he placed a had on the side of your thigh, "what do you say?"

the older driver nodded, he was trapped. seduced by two beauties who wanted nothing more than for fernando to keep racing. and would do anything to keep that reality alive. so when fernando's cock strained in his jeans when you took off your top, he knew any morals or rationality were long gone.

and soon he joined you both in.

"i told you he'd join us." lance laughed before he helped you out of your clothes and you did the same. occasionally kissing as you both did so. fernando had seen the two of you kiss multiple times, but to see it so close and with himself already painfully turned on. it was something he wanted to get in on.

he took you by the bare shoulders once you got your bra off. he looked to lance and asked, "can i kiss her?"

lance beamed at his teammate, "of course." then leaned back and stroked his cock as the older driver kissed you on the lips. he shuddered when you giggled.

"scratchy." you said in reference to fernando's facial hair. then worked to getting his clothes off. kissing him was different than kissing lance. he was more mature, older with more experience. even though he groped at you like a teen boy.

"she tastes good, lance." fernando said as he pulled you closer to him. he groped your ass and eyed his teammate, "i feel like this is a dream."

lance beamed, happy that he got his teammate where he wanted. you deserved something nice for all of your hard work. he stroked his cock at the sight of you lazily making out with fernando. he said to the other man, "well, only the best for you."

you soon ended up on your back with your face up near fernando's cock while lance was between your legs. tonight was a sampler of good things to come. this was about getting fernando to commit to staying on the team, and lance would get his way with a promise of your sweet cunt.

you kissed fernando's cock and felt the man tense up. you giggled and kissed it more. you ran your tongue up against it while you worked it with your hand as well. it was a bit impressive in size, even though your boyfriend was taller than him. fernando's cock was a bit bigger.

"trained her good." lance chuckled as he got your thighs around his head. he gave your your wet cunt long strokes of his tongue and watched your nipples grow hard.

fernando's gaze met yours as you continued to pleasure him. he cupped your face and you leaned into his touch, "she does feel very good."

"well, of course. teammates share everything." lance said before he really started to eat you out. lance squeezed your thighs around his head and felt his cock grow achy with want. all three of you naked on the bed.

you knew after you were finishing getting fernando off, you'd have get your boyfriend off too. you giggled a little against the older man's cock before you continued to stroke it.

soon you found the right angle to suck him off. your mouth fully on it as you tried to take as much of it as you could. what you couldn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hand. fernando was captivated by you, such a pretty thing between his legs.

he felt something course through him when you gazed up at him and smiled a little with his cock in your mouth only for your eyes to flutter shut in lust when lance continued to eat you out. he would've never guessed in all his time racing that he'd be in bed a teammate and said teammate's girlfriend. having you orally pleasure him with a promise that he'd still be in formula one.

how could he leave now?

you whimpered against fernando's cock from the sensation of lance at your clit. your eyes opened once more and leaned into fernando's touch. this was the performance of a lifetime. you had to make the older driver feel good if he was going to stay.

"such a pretty thing. i can see why you keep her in montreal, lance. she would cause problems in other places." fernando said as he pushed you further down onto his cock which made you moan a little louder.

the feeling all of hot pleasure made you squirm a little bit. it felt painfully good, it was unlike anything else you had ever experienced before. you never thought you'd be sucking another man's cock, but there you were. with fernando's hand in your hair.

lance was gorging on your cunt, he loved to eat you out. he loved trailing his fingers across your slick, needy cunt as he focused on your clit. he felt you shift under him and the moans muffled be the other man's cock.

you continued to move your head up and down, you tried to go deeper on fernando's cock, but it was hard to without tensing up too much. eyes closed, you felt amazing. it was a heat through you as you gave and received pleasure. you whined a little bit against his cock as the older man's hand tightened in your hair.

"i am pretty lucky. not every day i get to see something so beautiful. you must really want me on the team, don't you, lance?" fernando asked.

lance looked up and took his mouth away from your pussy. he fingered you quickly and smiled. the bottom of his chin covered in spit and your wetness, "well, i thought maybe we could grow a little closer."

fernando laughed, "this is a way to do that. would you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your cheek and you leaned against it. lance smiled a little before he went back to eating you out.

you nodded a little, your mouth still on his cock. unable to say much as you felt the heat in your core bloom into something more. you knew that you wouldn't last much longer. you held onto fernando's thighs and arched your back a little bit from the sensations. you had never done something like this before. you were always the good girl, a little on the dumber side but that was what lance liked about you. he knew that you'd be so good to him. like getting you to suck his teammate off.

lance worked you towards orgasm and you worked fernando towards his. it wasn't long before you were holding on for dear life and could feel yourself closer to orgasm. you whimpered with the man's cock in your mouth and arched your back a little more from the feeling of it all. you weren't think about much else besides getting to your climax. so you worked hard to get the older driver off.

you tightened your thighs around lance's head and your hands on fernando's thighs. you whimpered, it sounded muffled as you climaxed. it hit you hard and made you arched your back with want. you whined a little bit and continued to work your mouth on fernando's cock.

the older man soon finished while lance over stimulated your cunt with his fingers and mouth. the three of you moved together and you felt your thoughts go blank for a moment as both men pulled away from you and you could breathe properly for a moment.

lance eyed you with want, his cock was painfully hard. he stroked it a few times before he grabbed you by the hips. you whimpered as fernando's cock pressed against your cheek.

"we have all night beautiful. and i don't think fernando is done either." you needed to get lance off too, which meant another round. and more orgasms.

but it was all for the team, for fernando to stay.

-

you almost jumped for joy when it was announced that fernando was staying another season. you did a little jump on the balls of your feet and clapped your hands a little. you and lance were so smart!

you perked up when your phone chirped and it was from your loving boyfriend. it was a request to meet them at the hotel, and don't forget to wear the t-shirt. tonight you three were going to celebrate and lance wanted to make sure it was a night none of you would forget. <3

[megtrns]

Hello! Wanted to start off and say how much I love your writing, and it's awesome you feel able to do it again. Thank you, and I hope you're having a good day!!!

Secondly, if your inbox isn't too full already, could I maybe request a little scenario of idw megs receiving a painting from a secret admirer so to speak? It's not exactly hard to find out who made it, doing a painting at cybertronian scale is a huge undertaking for a human, and would likely require some assistance (something i doubt would stay secret for long), but, despite their usual spunkiness, the human just got a little too nervous to gift it directly.

a/n : hi dear, thank you so much for the sweet message, i'm glad to hear you enjoy my writing ! i hope you're having a good day too. i hope i do justice to your request because it was so fun to write for <3

florence. megatron / gn!reader. sfw !

You once told him a story about a (rumoured) condition in which people, when confronted with profound artworks, are seized by a range of mysterious symptoms—from mild dizziness to falling to their knees, with some even fainting—the Florence syndrome, as they called it. A strange and rare phenomenon in which one crumbles at the sight of intense beauty.

Megatron is aware of your passion for art. Your hands are often smudged with ink or paint whenever he sees you, dried flecks of grey and red adorning your forearms. Once, you had infamously splashed an entire bucket of paint over Rodimus, pleading to your captain that it was not premeditated. That he just had the spoiled luck of entering your makeshift art studio while you were 'experimenting'.

Work for you above the Lost Light was scarce, and in space, the days all blur into one — long and seemingly endless, no one stopped you from indulging in your hobbies. You had a range of artistic passions, but one Megatron finds curious: painting, both the act and the result of the action. The technique is different from what they did back on Cybertron. And Megatron cannot remember the last time he saw one, denied of such privileges as someone forged for the mines (and by the time he could roam the streets freely, there weren't many buildings left for him to set foot in. Regrettably, he made sure of that.)

He has seen you do it before, wrist moving in delicate concentration, guiding liquid paint — which he learned to be particles of pigment suspended in a drying oil — across a white canvas. You made it look effortless, like a dance you perform for yourself, one he privately wishes he could see more often. But these days, you were being secretive, often excusing yourself away from your usual table at Swerves to return to your studio, where the windows were tinted so that not even sly, conniving mechs like Whirl could peek inside. Everyone assumed you needed the solitude; living in a ship with over a hundred rowdy bots can overwhelm a person. So he lets you go to tend to your latest project, disappointed that even when suspended in space, the time you two shared passes so quickly.

He would be lying to himself to say that he wasn't curious, going as far as surprising himself by feeling jealous at the sight of Ultra Magnus and Fortress Maximus walking out of the studio — idly chatting in the hallway as if they hadn't just entered what is (currently) known as the most secretive place aboard the whole ship. Even Rodimus had thrown a fit at the rumour that the two point-one-percenters had seen your latest painting before he did, and Megatron was somewhat relieved that the former Prime acted as a distraction, afraid that you saw right through him, past his armour and down to his envy.

Until he sees the painting in front of his hab-suite, leaning against the door.

His servos twitched to touch, optics widening at the sight.

It was him.

You've painted him as he is, iron and silver, standing proudly under the light. His eyes red like a rising sun. It was almost like staring into the mirror, yet his image was looking away from the viewer — both he and the audience acting as discreet observers. But there was a sudden, slow pulling at his spark when he realised that even when he's not smiling in the portrait, you made him look kind. Gentle.

And the ex-warlord didn't know how to feel aside from astonishment. Is this how you see him? That despite his marred and ugly history, you see art in him ?

When he saw you the next day, optics skimming the crowd to land on a pair of nervous eyes, Megatron didn't even notice he was smiling — a small, rare gesture that had you blushing so beautifully.

You tried to act as if the painting wasn't from you, dismissing his 'thank yous' and shrugging it off with both hands in your pocket (as if Ultra Magnus and Fortress Maximus had not admitted to being the one to carry you above their open palms for hours so you could reach the corners of the giant canvas.) Megatron, however, doesn't need a confession. He didn’t miss the satisfied grin you tried to hide when you saw the painting in his room, clearly cherished by the way it hung right where he could see it at all times.

Megatron has barely received anything in his life worth treasuring, but this painting was almost like a silent admission — intimate, sweet, something so far removed from what he thought was possible in his life.

So yes, he has heard of people trembling and shaking at the sight of grandiose paintings, going so far as to weep and collapse. Megatron couldn't understand it until he pictured you standing in the middle of your studio, neck craned to admire your portrayal of him — the vision enough to make his processor spin.

[pacific-coast-hockey]

I like Klim Kostin's shredemption (Sharks redemption) arc a lot I must say...I think often of the anon who went into k @18minutemajor's inbox right after the trade to tell them Klim was locker room poison and everyone hates him so bad. 5 seconds after he gets off the plane in San Jose DQ is like actually that's my biological son and the team is like yeah if anything happens to Klim we're killing everyone in this room and then ourselves; then DQ exits the scene due to his inside thoughts becoming outside thoughts and the strict new 1st grade teacher Warso says well I don't know about this Klim guy and benches him for one million years; but it's too late, every single post about him on Tumblr is now filled with beautiful imagines about sexually shredding Klim like he's a chicken who just got out of the crock pot and we need taco meat...

it's like how every Pens fan was like lol good luck with Mikael Granlund and his shitty attitude, and now he's like the only person on this godforsaken team we can trust to be on a line with William Eklund bc Ekky respects him too much to run science experiments on him. It's interesting bc there's a lot of focus on best players and elite player development for playoff teams. But with the Sharks being so fucking bad and so deep in the rebuild, the past few seasons are like, yeah we're building a team culture to raise good young players but also many guys are here to figure out their shit out. And sometimes that works (Mackblack) and sometimes it really doesn't (every European guy who went back home the past off season)

But really when I think about it, at the end of the day, all of this feels like a skill issue for other teams. I'm sorry your hearts weren't ready and open to receive Klim Kostin. I will light a votive candle for you at the crockpot.

[twelvroses]

SUMMARY ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤRESURRECTION is a mixtape released by South Korean rapper LIZ, under VALENTINE RECORDS. The tape was released through streaming services on December 20th, 2024, and was not promoted nor were any official singles released. RESURRECTION marks the first solo music to be released by LIZ following the disbandment of her girl group BOUQUET in 2021, and her subsequent unsuccessful appearances on survival shows NEXTUP (2022) and DREAMQUEST (2024). Every track on RESURRECTION was written by LIZ, and her name dominates the production credits as well. The tracklist delves into a variety of genres and sounds, with LIZ herself calling the mixtape 'purposefully eclectic,' explaining that she wanted to explore 'a hundred different versions of myself. Some songs are written from my point of view, some from the point of view of the person people think I am, the person I was supposed to be in Bouquet, the person I'm scared of becoming. You burn away one, and another is born.'

"TITLE TRACK" (KIND OF) ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤ In spite of the lack of promotion behind RESURRECTION, a music video for the sixth track, MANTRA (feat. MiO), was uploaded to Valentine Records' official YouTube channel on December 25th. The inclusion of MiO on the song, and again in it's video, caused a frenzy online; the j-pop heavyweight hadn't been seen in two years, and her fans had already accepted the idea that she may never come back - and it's safe to say a LIZ mixtape was the last place they'd expect to be seeing her again. The structure of MANTRA presents it as a duet; the girls sing the chorus together and take a verse each. It wasn't hard for MiO's starved fans to latch onto MANTRA, helping LIZ's far humbler fandom to get the clip's views into the hundreds of millions. While LIZ fans celebrated this success, it begged the question of why MANTRA was never released as a real single.

The video depicts LIZ and MiO as fugitives, on the run in a futuristic city (per the traditional aesthetic of VALENTINE's new gen artists.) Through glimpses of their arrest warrants, we see that MiO is wanted for 'killer runs,' and shortly after, that LIZ is charged with 'armed bobbery.' The video does not try to take itself seriously, ending on a cliffhanger as the girl's getaway car flies over an ascending bridge, over the edge of which a waterfall of pursuing police cars fall.

Perhaps referencing MiO's penchant for decorative lowercase, the final frame of the video presents a message; 'ManY HAVE tRiED.'

TRACKLISTING ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤRESURRECTION would receive mixed reviews; the biggest point of contention being the tone of the record; switching, sometimes abruptly, between moods. The silliness or vulgarity of certain tracks were also criticized. Ultimately, however, the mixtape was well received, considered a strong display of LIZ's talents, highlighting her rapping but also displaying her vocal ability, as well as production skills and lyricism. The featuring artists present on the record also drew interest to LIZ, all with substantially bigger fanbases than her own. LUKE, the most credited producer in VALENTINE history, with a hip-hop career of his own spanning from the early 00s, is notoriously hard to get on the other side of the recording booth these days, and J-pop superstar MiO hasn't shown her face in two years. Fans of theirs were desperate to hear their idols again, and they rallied enthusiastically to support LIZ in turn. Fans of TAROT, however, weren't so happy to hear JORDEN's explicit lyrics, and took their frustrations out on LIZ even though he'd reportedly written the verse himself.

001. LOWLIFE PRINCESS. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

002. LIT. (feat. LUKE) Written by Liz, LUKE. Produced by LUKE.

003. PLUG IT, CHARGE IT, WORK IT. Written by Liz, Jang Kitae. Produced by Deer.

004. BURN IT UP. Written by Liz, Ahn Hayana. Produced by Liz, Ahn Hayana.

005. CHEETOS. (feat. JORDEN of TAROT) Written by Liz, Kim Jorden. Produced by Deer.

006. MANTRA. (feat. MiO) Written by Liz, MiO. Produced by Liz.

007. INTERLUDE: WHITE HOT ROOM. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

008. WITCH HUNT. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

009. ULTIMATE EVOLUTION. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz, LUKE, Kwon Ahin.

010. ANIMAL FARM. Written by Liz. Produced by Kwon Ahin.

011. FORGIVE ME. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤUP NEXT ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤbutterfly effect.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello I would like to personally put that ribbon with a bell on catboy Ray's tail :3

Ray's expression was incredulous as you held out your hands. There was a small gift package meant for him to open, but he seemed more caught up in the fact that you made something for him rather than trying to figure out what you made. He mentioned to you once before that he hadn't had the chance to celebrate anything before... nobody ever thought to give him a gift for "no reason".

He didn't know what it felt like to receive a gift "just because"! In your eyes, that was sad. Sure, nobody was entitled to a gift out of the blue, much less on their special day, but it just felt... unfair to think that he hadn't been able to experience the wonder of someone wanting him to feel special because they thought of him. There was no obligation to give him a gift, but you wanted to give it to him all the same.

As he tilted his head to the side, his ears perked up. "You made a gift? For me?"

"Of course," You reassured him with a nod of your head. "I wanted to make something special for you! It's been a while since I've seen you and I thought you might want a reminder of me when you're working hard."

How could he say no to that? What Ray craved more than anything else was the chance to be doted on, after all. You knew it from the moment he lit up when someone complimented him for the first time. That person being you, of course, but still, nevertheless, you wanted to make sure he never forgot what it felt like to be doted on.

Out of anyone trapped in this place, he deserved to have someone tell him he was worth much more than what his Savior told him he was. Nobody else was going to go to the "trouble" of trying to brighten his day, but you weren't some kind of "nobody". You were his precious game tester, and you weren't going to let him forget it. Just as he had decided you were precious to him.

"Do I... do I open it here?"

You chuckled. "I don't mind if you open it with me, but it's okay if you would rather wait to open it when you're back in your office. Though, if I'm being honest... this is a gift I'd love to see in person... I won't be greedy if you want to experience this gift by yourself first!"

Ray thought about it for a moment. You didn't want to rush him into deciding one way or another, knowing that your gift might spark him into a troubled heart, but you were eager to see his reaction when he realized what his gift was. Even if he decided to open it by himself, it wouldn't take long for him to call you and ask question after question about what your gift was meant to do.

But, much to your delight, he took the gift from your hands and began to quietly unravel the bow you used to close the box. Ray's hands trembled in what could either be nerves or excitement. He took his time, setting the bow to the set before lifting the lid and digging past the pink and purple tissue paper to procure the gift hidden underneath.

"...A collar?"

As he held up the present, a pink ribbon with a bow tied in the center knot, his cheeks began to burn the same rosy hue. It dangled from his fingertips as he tried to make sense of it. He was as charmed as he was perplexed. You didn't expect him to call it a collar, though. It took a while to find something that wouldn't remind him of those old nightmares he told you about...

But, if that's his first thought... is it okay to continue from here?

You shook your head. "Oh no, dear. I wouldn't ask you to wear a collar for me. I know your history with them... the last thing I would ever do is gift you something that would bring up bad memories. This is very different! If it's alright with you, could I... show you what it's intended for?"

You expected him to be reluctant. But, he wasn't. Ray held out his hands so you could reclaim your gift. Even if his first thought was something akin to his worries, you knew this gift was different. He could opt out of it at any time, and you wouldn't insist he continue wearing it if it truly reminded him of an oppressive collar. So, with a tug, you spun Ray around so he was facing away from you, and he gasped.

It was the sweetest sound, so cute and awed by how easily you could sway him.

"Now, Ray, if you don't like it..."

"I know, [Y/N]... you won't force me to do anything I don't want to do even if I would go along with it."

It was better to reaffirm his consent.

You twirled the fabric from the base of Ray's tail all the way to the tip, making sure not to compress the skin beneath the fur but making it just tight enough to keep it from falling. Unlike Saeran who would flick his tail at the smallest bit of indignation, when Ray swished his tail faster and faster, it was because he was feeling... nervous about this or that. It wasn't that odd to see him tuck his tail around one of his legs to keep it from showing.

But, as soon as you pulled your hand away, his tail began to swish back and forth, tempering the newfound weight the ribbon added with glee. The jingle, jingle, jingle... carried a tune that reminded you of what his heart sounded like when you kissed him in the gardens. It was methodical, slow, and sweet.

"There we go," you patted his head. "Now, you're looking like a very pretty kitty, Ray."

Ray peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his tail, only to spin around in place to hunt a better view of it. You pressed a hand to your lip to stifle the sound. He looked more like an eager puppy trying to catch his tail than a kitten who received his first bell! But, the more he spun, the more delighted you became.

You caught him by the arm and held him in place, lifting his tail around his center so he could watch his tail twitch in excitement. There was no way he could hide what this made him feel. He wasn't a good liar, something always gave him away, but seeing his tail show it felt the most satisfying. Every rattle of the bell was a reminder of how excited Ray was.

"I'm a pretty kitty?"

With a gentle ruffle of his hair that forced his ears to sway under your touch, you grinned. "You're my pretty kitty... that's better than just... a pretty kitty, Ray. Thank you for wearing my bell... this way, you'll hear the sound of my heart every time your tail moves."

Jingle, jingle, jingle...

[fadelbison]

the problem is that a lot of fanfic writers won't use a cut, will use tags like 'fandom x reader' or 'character x reader' and not just 'x reader' so people have to fucking filter out every single individual x reader tag. I'd personally just love go be able to go in any character tag and not just see the same garbage x reader bullshit where my favorite character is completely mischaracterized as a daddy dom because people want to fuck them so bad. now get the fuck off your stupid high horse. your dumbass shit about pinterest like fuck off.

thank you so much for this ask - i didn't even add that fanfic authors are persecuted simply for existing in my tags and yet you come into my inbox and demonstrate this point for me with bells and whistles.

so you admit that length and lack of cuts of fanfic posts is only a fraction of your issue with fanfic authors. what you really want is for all those cringefail imagines losers who are correctly tagging their fics to get their dirty degenerate fanfic off your character tags. Just pack up those cringefail imagines losers and send them off to ao3, right? A site that is an archive and in no way has convenient socmed/comms features? And me suggesting that aesthetics bloggers should opt for the aesthetic bloggers website and not the fandom website is offensive to you? Was that my high horse that offended you? Well, I love my high horse and every cringefail imagines loser and i sincerely hope the person writing their daddy dom character imagines are having a wonderful day and blessed with the motivation to write ten more daddy dom imagines and that you die mad about it ♥️

[@pinkkop I really appreciated that you made such a good faith response to the post I reblogged and I tried to leave it be since we are mutuals but yeah...longpost discourse is not what the fanfic discourse is ever really about, is it?]

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Adorned by stars | Changing States

When he hits the I-70, Jeremiah slots George Michael’s Faith into his ’98 Accord and drives with the windows down. His mother would chide him for two reasons: a) he’s wasting fuel and b) it’s begun to storm. But he likes the way the wind shears through his hair like a nail breaking drywall and he likes the way spats of rain settle on his skin like constellations because on the road, he isn’t just a hand for someone else to hold, a body to handle, a man who looks at another man and fears how much of himself he’s lost in his reflection. No. On the road he is the sky, adorned by stars of his own making, relentless in his abundance, blinking in the absence of any other light.

A little Changing States aesthetic & excerpt!

i'm so normal about him i'm so normal i'm so normal i'm so-

[unproduciblesmackdown]

maybe bsol is that time jen tepper mentions when she was so upset about a review of a show of joe's that she broke a glass (&/or threw it out a window)

[red-eft]

a man is bored at work. he wishes the day wasn't so boring. the monkey's paw curls

[daybreakrising]

VAUTRIN DRABBLE; BREAKING NEWS

The news was quick to break across Fontaine. Captain Vautrin, right-hand to the Iudex, has been arrested for murder.

Aurélie was not one for gossip, and often disregarded the sly whisperings passed between her neighbours should it reach her own ears. Gossip was unsavoury, its intentions usually to slander, to sully. Therefore, it was not worth her time. There were, however, certain key words that would draw her attention without fail – and one of those was the name of her son.

She had barely taken three strides from the gates of her home before she felt the gazes of many upon her, heard the blanket of whispers descend around her. This in itself was nothing out of the ordinary for her. A star upon the stage since her girlhood, possessing of both great beauty and talent, she has spent a lifetime in the spotlight, for better and for worse. But there was an air about Fontaine this morning that filled her with a sense of building dread. And then… she heard it.

Captain Vautrin… arrested for murder.

Vautrin.

Vautrin.

The blood drained from her face in an instant. No… no it cannot be… this must be a cruel rumour… Yet now she could see the heavy presence of gardes in the streets, the unusual liveliness at what is typically a quiet hour of the morning. And the looks her neighbours were giving her… pity, she recognised, and judgement. The spotlight has often weighed on her shoulders before now, but this is something else. She has never been looked at with such… negativity.

It takes but a few seconds for her to turn on her heel and flee back into the sanctuary of her home.

"Évariste! Évariste!" She dashes through the spacious hallway with none of her usual grace and poise, until she all but stumbles into the concerned arms of her husband. She lifts her gaze to his, sees the surprise, the question that lingers there, and her eyes fill with tears. It is an effort to make her lips move, to force the words out. "Something terrible has happened…"

--

Évariste, at first, refused to believe it. With an insistence that it was a misunderstanding, or some deliberately spiteful lie, he left her cowering behind closed doors whilst he sought answers. She begged him not to go, to stay with her here, but he would not listen. So she lingered, alone, pacing the rooms that were once filled with life, but now feel empty. She drew the drapes over every window, lest the entirety of Fontaine come to peek at the disgraced family, surrounding herself with a darkness that matched the one in her heart.

Time ticks by without her acknowledgement – so lost is she in her thoughts that she finds herself standing in a room she has not entered in many years, quite without realising her feet were taking her there.

Everything is just as it was.

Neither of them could ever bring themselves to move a single thing, and so it remains like a museum display of what once was. She stands amidst the last echoes of her son – a bed still neatly made by his hands, a stack of books left behind on his bedside table, clothes that no longer fit him still hanging in his closet. He had taken some items on his departure, but he had not taken them all, and neither had they sent them to his new place of residence. Perhaps, she mused now, they had hoped he would return for them, would return to them. But he never had.

The room beside this one is similar in its state of preservation. Two children they'd had, and two children they'd lost. Where did we go wrong in life? What did we do to warrant this agony?

There is only one thing out of place here, an addition she has made herself: a book, sitting in pride of place on the empty desk by the window. It is to this that she moves towards, her hands smoothing over the soft leather cover before carefully opening it to the first page. Her fingertips trace over an old flyer, affixed to the page with great care, for a production long since retired: but it is her son's name that features in big, bold letters. His debut on the stage. Oh, how they'd had such dreams for his future.

She turns the page as painful memories rear their ugly heads. Such talent he'd had… he had moved with such grace, such elegance. She had wept every time she watched him dance, and now she weeps for what could have been. She flips carefully through page after page of memories, of recorded achievements and awards, of performance advertisements and playbills. She cannot bear to look at them for long. After a time, the playbills and awards stop, to be replaced instead by notices and clippings from newspapers, many of them bearing headlines:

Notorious Thief Apprehended At Last By Rookie Garde Young Garde Saves Drowning Children Special Security Officer Uncovers Hidden Nefarious Plot! Remarkable Garde Becomes Youngest Special Security Captain In History Captain Vautrin: Right Hand To The Iudex?

She lingers upon this last clipping, her gaze resting heavily upon the image that accompanies it. The Iudex of Fontaine, standing as elegantly and imposing as ever, beside a handsome young man in a pristine uniform. There is no colour to the image, but she can picture the vibrant wine of his hair, the soft hazel of his eyes. Her boy, her beloved boy, achieving greatness in his own way, just as he had promised he would.

It is here that Évariste finds her. He stands at her back, hands upon her shoulders – hands that long to comfort, but cannot, for he brings only dire tidings. It is no lie. Their son has indeed been arrested for murder, and a murder most atrocious at that. He has stained his name, tarnished his previously pristine reputation. He has thrown everything away, yet again. Yet again, it is in the name of a cause he believes in, a cause he will not falter upon.

Amongst the agony of this terrible truth, there is a flicker of something fond: he may have grown, may have changed from the boy that walked away from them without looking back, but at heart… he is still the same. Still their Vautrin.

But the flicker cannot survive for long amidst the smothering dread – for they have well and truly lost their last remaining child. He will be sentenced to a life beneath the sea, never to return. He will go beyond their reach for the last time. Tomorrow's paper will bear a new headline, but one that will never make it into this book:

Captain Vautrin: Guilty Of Brutal Slaughter

[darabeatha]

ㅤㅤRule number 1. Never trust a man harlot

[wingstobetorn]

Thinking about how Niragi and Chishiya and Arisu are all parallels with each other

[shivasdarknight]

The...the devs admitted to killing Ysayle because they didn't know what to do with her? We were denied Scion Ysayle because they figured the best way to handle being at a loss for her was to kill her off?????????

Y e a h. And there's a bit more to it when you look at some of the behind-the-scenes stuff beyond her, but yeah that was it. Instead of shelving her for later (like they did with Estinien), they just killed her. Despite talking about how she qualified as a scion and would be a good ally, and despite all of her present relevancy especially with Thavnair and Vrtra. Estinien is a good enough example of how they saved a male character for later, but they went further and killed Zenos but brought him back through - need I remind - the Echo (ik his is a resonance but regardless), which Ysayle had, and kept him around for two more expansions (more minor in one, but regardless he lived longer than she did).

The devs did this to Yotsuyu, as well, but the thing about Ysayle that makes this one so telling is that she is one of three characters designed by the same person to die one after the other; those being Moenbryda and Haurchefant, who were all designed by Natsuko Ishikawa, the writer of the rog/nin & drk job quests, the Doman half of Stormblood, and MSQ for Shadowbringers and Endwalker. She - as the only main female writer on the team - has gone on record saying that the deaths of those three in quick succession felt targeted. And out of those three, it's only Haurchefant that gets to remain relevant, has a permanent grave, gets emotes and allusions to him, and DSR is centered around saving him (while Ysayle is alive by consequence) because Yoshi-P likes him. Sections where Oda takes over (eg parts of post-stb involving Yotsuyu and Tsuyu) plus the post-arr to hvw stuff is where it's really clear something went fucky here. They have stated they didn't know what to do with Ysayle, but her death in conjunction with Moenbryda's - as both were designed by Ishikawa - along with their lack of acknowledgement in story reeks a deeper level of sexism on the devs' parts.

So, yeah. She's dead because:

The devs didn't know what to do with her, so they just killed her off - had she been a man, she would've just been shelved (like Estinien)

It seems to be something personal as she's the third of Ishikawa's characters to die immediately after introduction, especially since the only man in the group gets tons of focus while Ysayle and Moenbryda are sidelined constantly

It's only during content written by Ishikawa that we see allusions and direct references to Ysayle (and Moenbryda) and it feels like the devs are trying to ignore what they did and just move right along. If the fucking Resonant and what that Sahagin priest did to stay as a soul and around could keep Zenos and a Sahagin Priest alive, then there's no excuse with Ysayle. And I'm saying this as someone who is actively writing a fix-it fic tackling many of the aspects of her character that they just left unresolved and unexplored - like this isn't even getting into the fact that Estinien has had 4 different stories going into his background and where he's been this whole time, while Ysayle's only story was just a beat for beat rehash of her death scene.

Also, as I feel it needs to be said since this Is tumblr: my bringing up any male characters is not a condemnation for anyone Liking said characters. Estinien's one of my favs in this game, but the guy was wrapped in death flags and he's still around as of 6.4?

Really?