#its so cluttered now ugh

[cvctuslesbian]

why did staff add the "following you" tag to the notes.....like yeah....i suspect most people in my notes are following me? what?

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 10

part 1 | part 9 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

When they get to Eddie’s trailer, Steve’s mom is sitting on the couch, eyes unblinking as she watches the TV.

There’s just static on the screen.

“Steve?” she slurs when she finally realizes they’re there. Sways a little when she stands. There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, a blank look on her tired face: agreeable but distant, a smudge of campfire smoke curling far over the trees.

Double-dosed her pills again. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, it was just awful.” She reaches out for him, and he wishes he could find comfort in the way she cups his elbows with delicate hands. Wishes he could lean into her touch and offer comfort in return, but her tone is so dull and mild that bile rises in his throat. Chemical calm bullshit, and Steve has had enough.

“Ma, just…” he sighs, shrugging her off. Scrubs a hand over his face. Too young and too old for this. “Just go home, okay?” The street is quiet again, all the neighbors tucked back in their houses now that the show has run its course. He doesn’t think anyone will notice her stumbling across the road. “Get some rest. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Sure, baby.” He leads her to the door, and she turns there on the threshold, eyes glassy and unfocused; looks through him like he’s a ghost. Then her gaze shifts around the room — the hats, the mugs, the clutter; the lived-in explosion of color that Steve’s annoyed he likes so much — like she’s just seeing it all for the first time, and absently, she murmurs, “This place is dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Mom.”

“Hmm?” she asks, but she’s already drifting out the door.

Steve’s face is on fire. He stands there for a moment, just staring dumbly out into the dark. What the hell is wrong with her??

Behind him, Eddie snorts. "Oh, she’s on the good shit, huh?”

Steve whips his head around. Eddie’s eyes are full of mirth, his dimple peeking out, and it startles a laugh out of Steve. He thinks maybe he’d take offense if he weren't so busy being mortified.

But also, like.

It is a little funny.

Or maybe it’s so unfunny that it circles back around.

“Jesus, man,” he huffs, “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why she…”

“S’fine,” Eddie says with a casual flick of his wrist. Seems like he means it. He rocks back on his heels, hands in his back pockets, just sort of eyeing Steve up. Assessing. Running his tongue over his lips. They're big, for a guy's. “…You want a beer?”

“Fuck.” That sounds so nice. “Yeah. Please.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve takes the offer when Eddie nods at the couch, too tired to do the whole song and dance of ‘oh heavens no, I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Who’s got the energy for that?

The couch is old. His skull thuds against the un-cushioned back when he sinks down into it, but he’s too tired to care. Worn out as the lumpy springs under his ass, the frayed fabric beneath his arm. A wave of exhaustion rattles his bones, reverberates in his teeth. He thinks he could sleep for sixteen years.

Eddie clears his throat when he comes back with the beers, a sudden cautiousness about him as he hands Steve an unopened can like Steve might claw him in return.

"Sit down," Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna bite."

Eddie makes a strangled noise. The springs bounce as he plops onto the seat beside Steve, sitting sideways with one leg up on the couch between them, his arm resting on the back. "So, ah...." He gives a wavering chuckle; pulls a lock of hair across his face to hide himself. "Is this the part where I formally apologize for trying to knife you?"

Ugh. No the fuck it isn't. Steve’s too drained for it, absolutely at capacity for more serious shit this evening, thanks; and besides that, it was...

Whatever. It's old news.

Instead of giving a real answer he reaches into his pocket, snicks his own knife open and pretends to brandish it at Eddie, asking, "Eye for an eye?"

Eddie's eyes go huge. "Dude, what the fuck??"

"Just fucking with you," Steve laughs, lifting the can up to his mouth. "But there; now we're even. Shoulda seen your face."

“Ah—!” Eddie’s jaw drops in offense. “Ex-cuse you!”

God, of course he’s more dramatic than all the kids combined.

Steve jabs the knife into his beer, pops the top and starts to chug, throat working as he gulps the whole thing down in four big sips. It tastes like frothy, bitter piss, but it's cold and it soothes the scratch in his throat.

Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Well, goddamn, Harrington."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?"

Steve grins and wipes his mouth.

—

They get drunk pretty fast (Eddie refused to be upstaged in his own house, so one shot-gunned beer became two became four), and somewhere along the line the conversations get weird; hilarious and dumb. Saying shit just to say it, chipping away at the ice wall between them with bare fingernails.

Eddie hollers some shit like: "What are you even talking about?" and his arms fling out wide, almost spilling his beer. "The deep sea is so much scarier than the mountains!"

"Are you joking?" Steve throws back. "The mountains have, like, giant cats and shit! Birds of prey with wingspans the size of your van."

"Yeah, and the deep sea has eldritch monsters that live in volcano vents and hunt with no eyes and eat their young for fun or whatever the fuck. You ever heard of an anglerfish? Or a phantom anglerfish? Tell me that shit isn't right out of a Lovecraft story."

"A what story?"

"How am I the one who hasn’t graduated yet?"

Then later:

“Dude, Batman? Seriously?”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

“He’s a greasy little weirdo. You only like him because of your whole…” Steve gestures at his tattoos.

“Whatever, Spiderfan.”

And later still:

"Okay, okay, okay. Fuck, marry, kill... Shit. Y’know this would really be easier in a town where so many people hadn’t died."

Steve grimaces at himself; expects Eddie to call him out. It’s too insensitive, too soon.

Eddie just cracks a grin and suggests, "Fuck, marry, revive?"

—

They talk for a long time. Eddie's kind of charming when he's not being a dick. A nice smile, deep laugh lines. Steve can almost see why the kids are so obsessed with him. He's never met someone so animated; feels like he's talking to a Saturday morning cartoon. The conversation mellows out after a while, and he doesn't realize he's dozed off until Eddie shakes him awake.

"Hey, man," he says, voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to crash on the couch, but, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, your back is probably gonna hate you for it."

Steve rubs his fists against his eyelids and blinks himself awake. Feels jittery and weird, yanked out of the start of a bad dream. When he looks up he sees that he’s got his shoes up on the couch; and there’s dried drool on his chin, and all at once he feels embarrassed, off-balance and panicked like he missed the last step down a steep flight of stairs. Of course he's overstayed his welcome. He's being fucking rude. "My bad," he mutters as he jumps up off the couch. Stands up way too fast, makes his vision tilt and swirl. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie reaches for his arm. "Dude,” he says, “you're fine. You can stay if you want.”

Steve moves out of his hold. “Nah, get some sleep; I’ll see ya around.”

Eddie frowns at him, a little furrow between his brows, and somehow Steve feels like he’s in the wrong, like Eddie isn’t the one who just kicked him out.

Like maybe Steve’s just running away for a second time in one night. Always back and away, this guy.

Who's the fucking coward now?

—

part 11

y'all know the drill, tagging whoever commented on yesterday's installment provided your tumblr settings let me <;3 @thealwithnoname @violetsteve @manda-panda-monium @stuftzombie @bronwenmarie @aliea82 @slowandsteddie @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @ahsokatanoss @steveshairspray @hallucinatedjosten @estrellami-1 @ppunkpuppyy @stevesbipanic @silver-snaffles @yourmom-isgay @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @zombiecreatures @im-a-disgrace-to-humanity @faery-god @hotluncheddie @runninriot @a-little-unsteddie @teatimeeverybody @newtstabber @pearynice @hellion-child @cuips-not-cute @steddieas-shegoes @steves-strapcollection @loguine-linguine @griefabyss69

[manikas-whims]

An Elusive Alliance

In which Rafayel and Xavier's first encounter leads up to a collection of more encounters, resulting in them forming a sort of alliance due to their love for you.

— a Rafayel & Xavier friendship mini fic with sprinkles of Rafayel x Reader and Xavier x Reader moments

next chapter ->

Encounter 1: the artist meets the hunter [AO3]

As the burst of light from your synchronized attack faded away and the Wanderer in front of you crumbled to dust, you slid your sword back in its sheath and breathed out in relief.

Like always, Xavier did a quick survey of the area before walking back to you.

“Do you want to go home together?” He asked.

“Sure.”

You had barely smiled at him when your phone began buzzing loudly.

It was quite unusual because most of the people in your life knew about your line of work and wouldn’t be disturbing you at this hour. “Most” being the keyword as you already had an inkling about who it could be. There were only a few people who’d bother you at odd hours, one of them being right there with you. And the other one was ringing you at the moment, as was confirmed by the caller ID flashing on your phone’s screen.

It was Linkon City’s one and only famed artist Rafayel. You answered the call. “Hey—”

“Miss Bodyguard! Come quickly! My life is in imminent danger!”

The words were yelled so loud that his voice could be heard outside the tiny speaker. And with the way that Xavier blinked curiously at you, you were sure even he heard it all.

“Rafayel calm down. Is it a wanderer?” You asked.

“It’s worse! Ugh! Just get here please!”

The call was disconnected from the other end, leaving your weary mind and body in an amalgamation of confusion and concern.

Xavier stepped nearer and leaned his face far closer to yours than anyone would deem appropriate between friends. “What is it?”

“It’s just..this friend of mine. He says he’s in danger but I’m not so sure..” You scratched your cheek in thought. “He says it’s worse than a wanderer.”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed momentarily before he took hold of your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Whaa– you’re coming too?” You asked, your eyes drifting towards his long fingers around your wrist.

“You said it yourself. It’s dangerous. Best we go together.”

“R-Right okay.” You mumble, even though you still weren’t entirely sure. After all, this wasn’t the first time that Rafayel had raised a false alarm on you. Regardless, you didn’t have the energy to explain to Xavier about how much Rafayel took delight in messing with you.

That, and you could be wrong too. For all you knew, a big wanderer could be chasing after Rafayel right now. The most reasonable option was to head to Whitesand Bay as soon as possible and check up on the situation.

Bursting through the doors of the art studio, you and Xavier immediately assumed a defensive stance. The living room was still intact, save for a few boxes cluttered in one corner, and the randomly scattered utensils around the kitchen counter.

“Rafayel, I’m here!” You called. “Where are you?”

“Shhhh!” The said artist popped up his head from behind the kitchen counter. “Over here.”

You took in the weary expression as well as the disheveled state his usually smooth purple locks were in. What could be stressing him out to such an extent?

“What is it?” You asked impatiently. You were still clad in your Hunter uniform and weren’t quite enjoying the outfit clinging to you due to the sweat. You also did not want to smell like sweat in the presence of two guys you were so close to.

Rafayel cautiously walked around from the sink and came to your side. “It’s this way.”

He pushed you in the direction of the cardboard boxes you’d seen earlier, his larger body firmly huddled behind your smaller frame. Xavier followed the two of you.

Your hand slowly reached for the trusted gun at your hip. You nudged one of the boxes with your boot and a snarl came from the pile.

Your eyes widened. The sight before you was neither horrendous nor dangerous like the Wanderers you were used to dealing with. The so-called threat Rafayel had been talking about were merely..kittens! A total of three and each no bigger than a can of soda. There was a bigger cat (presumably the mother) who had snarled at you when you had disturbed the box.

You rolled your eyes at Rafayel, then gave a small apologetic glance to Xavier who stood behind. For him to come all this way with you when he could've been showering and sleeping by now.

“This was your danger?” You folded your arms across your bosom and raised a brow at Rafayel.

“Hey! You know how awful they are! They’re demons! Always fooling you with their big sparkly eyes, only to pounce at you the next moment.” Rafayel spoke in his defense.

“They’re cats, Rafayel! Cats!” You emphasized.

“Oh please! Let’s not forget that time on Hat Island when an orange cat scratched my hand.”

As you two bickered, Xavier stepped closer to the cats who seemed to have made a home for themselves amidst the cluttered boxes. He slipped the glove off his right hand and to your surprise, rubbed the mama cat’s head. But even more surprising was the fact that the cat stroked her head affectionately into his palm, seemingly not afraid or untrusting of him at all.

“She must’ve crawled in through one of the open windows and found the boxes an ideal safe spot for her babies.” He explained without looking up.

“Who are you again?” Rafayel asked, rather suspicious of him.

Now that you thought about it, you realized how you were friends with so many cool boys but had never introduced them to each other. Hmm..Maybe you just didn’t find the right occasion to do so? Nevermind that.

“Rafayel, this is Xavier. He’s the best Deepspace Hunter I know, which is why I’m lucky to have him for my partner.” You said.

“I’m also lucky to have you as my partner.” Xavier smiled, then nodded in greeting towards Rafayel.

“And this is Rafayel. The young, renowned artist!” You introduced him excitedly.

“Um..hello.” Xavier scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Are you supposed to be famous or something?”

Uh oh..

You saw Rafayel’s eyes narrowing in annoyance even as he tried to mask it with a forced smile. “I am. Very famous in fact. The one and only of my kind.”

“Ahh..I see.” Xavier brought out a hand to shake it with that of Rafayel’s, his lips twitching as he too forced a smile on his face. “Nice..to meet you.”

Rafayel couldn’t believe you had the audacity to bring another guy to his house.

The said guy– Xavier– currently sat on the couch, his hunter jacket discarded and the buttons of his undershirt undone. His legs were sprawled casually as if he had already made himself home. And if that wasn’t the worst, the tiny kittens had followed him and were loitering around his legs, nipping and sucking on his combat boots. Meanwhile the mother sat snuggled in his lap.

“He once said he has no idea why but small animals tend to cozy up to him. Interesting right?” You told Rafayel whilst helping him with lunch preparations.

“Yeah..” He replied dryly. “But why is he here?”

“Well, we heard your voice on the phone and Xavier insisted on helping.” You informed him as if that was a plausible explanation.

Xavier insisted, huh?

Rafayel couldn’t put a finger to it but something was off about the guy.

In that very moment, the said platinum-blonde haired guy scratched his nape, as if he could sense the pinprick sensation of Rafayel’s gaze upon his back. Then he turned around, and flashed a close-eyed smile.

Rafayel frowned.

Something was definitely off about this guy.

if you've reached this point, then THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ♡

i apologize for any ooc moments or grammatical errors..i’ll be editing it later on..

please ✩⁠ like - reblog - comment ✩⁠ on what you think and if you'd like me to continue this silly lil fic (i actually have ½ of chapter 2 already written out lol)

next chapter ->

» NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST «

[tparker48]

A preview of the next story, a climax for your unaware adventure with Logan ^^)

Another day in the confines of logan's ass. Every glance you’d take was filled with an eternal abyss, rectal muscles rippling against you like waves along a shore. Every so often a jerk would send you back to the quivering entrance, the outside world sealed beyond your reach by the shriveled ring guarding the entrance.  It was night when you managed to pierce the hole, but now it was a distant memory from the past. You counted the hours as best you could, but that withered away as soggy walls spooned your back.

The walls jerked as they compressed against you, metal clunks booming through the flesh like thunder, before they stiffened in place. Grunts echoed from above as Logan moved around, gravity yanking up and down as your stomach tied itself in knots.

“Nineteen…twenty…twenty one…” Logan counted, overshadowing  the metallic clunks as you continued to rise and fall.

 Another one of his sets, the 5th one he's done since God knows how long. You shoved your limbs into the doughy walls, stretching a fold apart to draw his attention your way. But you had little manipulation over them, your blows absorbed into their soggy surface as they continued to compress and sway.

Logan groaned, beating at his own waist that bubbled and churned.  "Fuck these turds are poking hard, knew I should've gone at home before I came here." 

You gritted beneath the walls assault, a hill of flesh molding you into a meat pocket. You wrestled against the muscular sheet oto get back to the hole, dwindling your finger in hopes to incisor their hold and climb your way through. But the walls merely jiggled as they yanked against your body, sucking you out of the meat pocket and into the twisted caverns of Logan’s rectum. Warm balls of matter bumped against your sides, growing in herds as their marbled size grew into boulders. 

 Digested protein coated their surface like a cologne, forcing your stomach to heave to keep yourself from losing your lunch. You jerked to you body to keep away from the ascending matter, but it grew harder as the muscular tube grew in size, allowing passage for the turds as they moved past you like a herd of cattle.

Warmth spilled against your back as a thick log pressed its tip against you, drawing its charcoaled marks along your spine as if it were a giant marker. It’s surface was too mushy to move as you tempted to wiggle yourself free, twisting your limbs in efforts to buck the log from your back.

Your limbs were caught in another layer of matter, strung up by its web as their doughy surface wrapped around them like shackles.

A loud clang erupted from below, Logan's body shifting. “Ugh, I can’t concentrate when I have to take a shit.”

 The walls siphoned as the chamber narrowed against you, hugging against your body as the scattered turds rushed towards you. They clung to you like magnets as they molded into one of their own. Merging into a single unit as they cluttered the muscular walls. Your earthy shackles climbed over your arms and feet, submerging them in matter as they raced towards your face. With one last yelp were overtaken, entombed in a cocoon of the player's excrement.

"Thank fuck, that should keep it at bay until I finish my reps." Logan said.

[pearl-blue-musings]

Maybe with Narumi Gen where you get a new position or promotion and he assumes you’re trying to get away from his division (but him) and he’s just terrible at communicating that he doesn’t want you to take the job but you aren’t actually leaving his division or something like that??? IDK. IT CAN END SPICY IF YOU WANT DO WHAT YOU WANT ✌🏻

EEEEEEEEEP

Narumi could smell that something about you was different when you came home. He quickly pauses his video game as you sing song your hello to him. He squints his eyes to better his hearing of your lighter than air footsteps. And that’s when he remembers. You had applied for a new position and that can only mean one thing.

You got the job and now you’re leaving him.

He grumbles and scratches his head as his mind races with different scenarios. Louder and louder you get, asking where he is. Narumi panics and tries to hide under the growing clutter around his, well your, shared room. Maybe if he hides in a pile of newly purchased action figured maybe you won’t find him.

“Gen! Where are you?” You try to create a new path as the one you made earlier seems to have vanished. Your eyes catch on to the large tv screen and see its paused. Ah, so he was here. Maybe he stepped out? “I have something to tell you! It’s super important and ~amazing~.”

To your right a small toy pops up out of a garbage heap of them. You start to walk over when you hear Narumi say in a strange voice, “don’t come any closer! State your business!” You chuckle at his antics and shake your head. Somethings up with him.

“It is I, your esteemed lover who has something important to tell my boyfriend. So can you find him for me?”

You hear the pile shuffle around and you try to hold back a snicker. Narumi pouts and shakes the toy again as he makes it speak. “No! He knows of your supposed news and wishes not to hear it!”

You roll your eyes when you realize what’s going on. Before you respond, you place your bag in the corner and slowly head to the bed. You sigh as you start to undress before raising your voice. “Well that’s too bad,” you respond quirkily, “because I wanna tell him that this new position allows me more time with him and will insure that we will take more jobs together and-“

You’re interrupted when the pile suddenly falls over and you see Narumi tripping over himself. He crawls over the action figured and empty boxes toward your voice and stops prematurely. “Baby I’m sorry I love you I-“

There you are, laid out on the bed in a new lingerie set just to celebrate the occasion. The red lace barely covers your assets and just makes you look like a meal that needs to be savored. Narumi slowly walks up to the bed where you are, getting on all fours as he crawls up to you. He’s taken off his shirt when you pause him. “What? I wanna get right down to busi-“

“You owe me an apology.”

He’s halfway unzipping his pants before he pouts and crosses his arms. “…no”

“Then you don’t get to unwrap your gift.”

He grumbles more and shifts uncomfortably. He glares at you but you know his game. You stare at him back, arms crossed to where your breasts are almost falling out of the bra. He bites his lip as his eyes dart from your beautiful mounds to your plump lips to your seductive eyes. Narumi finally caves. “Ugh fine. I’m sorry I thought you were leaving me.”

You smirk, sitting up slightly to undo his belt, feeling his cock throb through his pants. “And?”

“A-and that I didn’t talk to you correctly.”

“That’s a good boy.” You pull him into a kiss and straddle his waist. “Now let’s celebrate shall we?”

I hope it’s okay 🙈🙈🙈

Elle’s Wine Night!!

[nd-of-a-manatee]

Brambles pt. 1

Pls read this for context first

NEXT

[ID:

(This description is a text adaptation of a comic. Some descriptions have been tailored to fit the change in medium.)

It’s night.

The Motherlobe looms black in the dark blue sky among the trees in the quarry of Psychonauts HQ. The center window of the brain-shaped building is illuminated with pale yellow light. Inside that window, the silhouettes of Truman Zanotto–the Grand head of the Psychonauts–and an unknown female figure argue with each other as word bubbles clutter the space above them. Far below, Lili Zanotto (in her early teens) escapes the building out a side entrance and hops across hovering platforms over the lake at the bottom of the quarry. She’s wearing a blue sweater, black pants, red and white sneakers, and her brown hair tied in long low pigtails.

She steps off the last platform onto a grassy rock formation. The top of the formation used to be where her secret garden grew. It’s now empty, with a hole in the ground where the willow tree used to be. Lili hops easily past the site and uses a squiggle of levitation to clear a gap in the boulders that structure the hillside.

Lili walks on through the forest alone, hands in pockets. Giant moonlit pine trees and bushes surround her as she makes her way along an unclear path. When she reaches her destination, she looks ahead with weary irritation. Her reddish eyeshadow is purple in the low light, making her look even more tired. She has a new garden–filled with many varieties of plants, sectioned by a hedge down the center, surrounded by smooth stones, and crowned with three willows of varying height that huddle beneath a cluster of vertical cylindrical rocks that push together as if to cradle them. The whole place is covered in ropey green thorny weeds.

“Ugh. Again?” she groans.

She starts trying to pull the vines away from a nearby flowering shrub, but they’re stubborn and bite her through her fingerless black gloves. Her sixth sense suddenly gets her attention (represented with magenta lines that emanate from her head). She turns around and sees a rail-thin figure posed atop one of the stone stacks, backlit against the half moon hanging in the sky behind it. The figure is boyish and short with awkwardly long legs, upside down with one hand supporting it, the other behind his back, and both legs straight up in the air. A familiar brown helmet and red goggles make its head look bigger than it should be.

Lili, smiling, responds with telepathy.

<Hey, tree-sitter. What’re you doing here?>

Her friend and partner, Razputin, lifts his head and looks down at her through all the red hair sticking out of his helmet. He responds warmly through orange psychic waves.

<I sensed a disturbance.>

<Psh. I bet the whole county heard it,> Lili adds huffily. She glances away at nothing in particular.

<Definitely could from Sasha’s lab,> Raz admits.

<What were you doing in the lab this late at night?> she asks, crossing her arms.

<Shooting psychic waves at the moon.>

<Why? The moon’s still there during the day.>

<I know. We’ve been at it since this morning.>

Lili can’t help smiling again.

<Mind if I come down?> Raz asks.

<Go ahead. You can help me get rid of these weeds. They don’t listen to reason.>

Raz lists forward and effortlessly flips his way down the steep stone slope, landing all clean and professional in the grass at the bottom. His outfit is easier to see up close. Mint-green long-sleeve, light brown pants. The cuffs of both disappear into gray-green gloves and black and white hightop shoes. Lili gives him a single clap, and they get to work.

Both of them generate giant telekinesis hands composed of psychic energy in their respective colors. Raz selects a cluster of vines and yanks as hard as he can with his big TK hand. The vines react violently, twisting on their own so fast that the hand snaps into a cloud of scattering orange remains, complete with a “CHOMP” sound.

“Can’t we psi-blast them off?” Raz asks aloud.

“No way.” Lili doesn’t take her eyes off of the mess she’s concentrating on. Two fingers are pressed to her temple. “I’ve been so busy with missions and my mom visiting that I’ve hardly watered anything. I’d burn these stupid weeds off myself if the whole garden wouldn’t go up with them. I need my watering can, but I can’t get to it under all this.”

“Have you got any hedge clippers?”

“Yeah, they’re with the watering can.”

Raz thinks, forming a thought bubble that expands into a hand with a pair of hedge shears. He presses in on the weeds with a devilish grin.

Lili has wound up on the other side of the dividing hedge as the two of them move further into the garden. Green nettles and chunks of rope fly up from the other side while Lili tears strands of weeds apart with her TK hands. It’s a little easier, since hers wear gloves.

“So, about earlier…,” Raz begins gingerly. “Are you okay?”

Lili doesn’t break stride, but her eyes drag the ground.

“I’ve been worse. I just… I think I really screwed up this time.”

“What happened?”

Lili flashes back to earlier that evening, inside the Motherlobe. Everything is rendered in vague magenta shapes. Lili stood before a cork board covered in papers, pointing things out to the female figure from before as her father stood by. The woman’s arms were crossed stiffly. Her frame was broad and imposing. She was taller than the others in the room. Truman’s hands were clasped limply behind his back.

“Everything was going fine,” Lili continues. “I was showing mom all the cool stuff we’ve been doing and how safe the cadet missions are. She seemed, like, actually impressed for a second.”

The figure of Lili’s mother put the knuckles of her hand to her mouth. She had long hair that fell over her shoulders and a frizzy topknot that resembled a flame or firework. Her chin dipped in consideration.

“So, when are you coming back East with me?” her mother asked.

“Uh, I dunno. Things have been really busy.” Lili hadn’t had a better answer.

“Lili, be careful you’re not letting the Psychonauts get in the way of the real world.” The woman turned her intense blue gaze on Truman, who didn’t meet her eyes. “And family.”

“Why’d she look at your dad?” Raz asks in the present, poking his head over the hedge.

“Well, my dad may be really good at his job as Grand Head, but he didn’t used to be good at being, y’know, my dad,” Lili explains as casually as she can manage.

“Oh…” Raz sinks down behind the hedge as he thinks about that. “I guess Truman does hold the record for the most field hours. And office hours. And overtime hours. That probably wouldn’t leave time for much else.”

End ID]

NEXT

[sundogsandrainbows]

STORY SUMMARY: Trust is a delicate flower that needs to get nurtured and time to grow. Even more so love. A tale of two disparate Wardens forced together, of finding a way to overcome the distrust, and their own painful past in the time of the Blight. Very in-depth, character-focused exploration of the Dalish origin/warden, of all DA:O companions, and their relationship dynamics during the Fifth Blight. Follows and expands on canon events; AU in some ways. Multiple POV's, origins, and pairings. Slow burn af.

CHAPTER 52 SUMMARY -- SOUNDS OF YESTERDAY, PART I: In order to find the key for the chest left behind by Cailan in Ostagar, the Wardens and companions make a very reluctant detour to Lothering. Or rather what little is left of it, with it being now a destroyed, corrupted husk of a village.

CHAPTER EXCERPT:

[...] Smoke billows cloyed the firmament, obscuring what little daylight was left. Alistair had the infinite wisdom to take a torch with him, lest he’d stumble blindly through the torn down ruins of this village. What made it hard to breathe and watered his eyes wasn’t just the plumes of smoke from the fires still burning. It was the corruption here, like a leaden cobweb it wrapped itself all around them, stealing all life and oxygen. No wonder the man they’d met had contracted the taint sickness for entering here, for it was absolutely and entirely darkspawn territory now. Dead land, rotten and destroyed to what seemed its core. Unthinkable that it could ever recover from it, not with how thick the stench of death permeated the air.

“Ugh, lovely.” Lenya kicked at a stone in frustration. He illuminated the ground for a closer look at it, which was a baaaad idea in hindsight. Since it wasn’t a stone after all… but a small skull, long since picked clean. Maker, if that wasn’t belonging to an animal then… no. Nope. Nope . Refusal to complete this thought was the best course of action here, and the only valid one. “It is even worse than I expected it to be here.”

“Yeah.” Hard to imagine now that they were walking through this then-intact village almost half a year ago. Fresh-faced and thrown together after the tragedy that was Ostagar and their near death experience, in the search for information and equipment for their larger than life quest. It always had held the air of despair, filled to the brim with refugees as it were, but this here… was a completely disparate world. Theirs , to be exact. And every place would look like this, whole cities turned graveyards, should they fail. So many more people would die, futures and hopes crushed underfoot by incessant floods of darkspawn hordes. It was all the pressure, all the burden now visualized in this forsaken place; of what was at stake and expected of them both –just the two of them– that robbed him of all oxygen. How could he ever— The ground began to spin around him and with the torch still in hand, Alistair stumbled to a house's ruin at the side, to empty out his stomach into the snow-covered, decayed soil in front of it. The torch cluttered to the ground as he doubled over to heave. [...]

[CONTINUE READING] ||[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

[prettyflyshyguy]

Anyway, thoughts on Being Human UK so far, under the cut for anyone who's interested in my TV ramblings. Shoutout to the people who suggested I watch it! It's been fun, misses the mark a little at times (for me) but overall; good! Done with Season 1 now. It's been fantastic background TV while I've been drawing/editing.

First of all, of course, the music is fantastic. Iconic British bangers left right and center. Aesthetically this show pops off. Set design, costumes, it screams 2000s so bad and also has the iconic British tv DNA. Particularly like this ghost who died in the 80s (because of course. He wears a casio and uses a walkman and listens to weird music)

The fact that they use prosthetics and a full animatronic suit for the werewolf bits has me swooning every time. It's beautiful. Visceral. Really really nice stuff. Huge props.

Writing wise, and I'm not sure if this is a british thing or a Being Human thing but the humor is great (of course!) but I find the juxtaposition of the humor with the at times, intensely dark themes and topics this show tackles, can be a bit rough. Like I really like that this show tackles some heavy stuff and the emotion of the three main characters, but it gives me a bit of whiplash at times and that lets it down a bit I feel. Its frustrating cause the humor is great, and the tackling of heavy topics is great, but sometimes they are too close together without a buffer and its a bit like OH slow down buddy! I need breathing room!

Anyway scenes like this keep me coming back because Ugh. The colour, the clutter, Joy Division playing. It's fun! The three of them are really fun!!

S1's finale had me by the throat when George hit me with the "This doesn't rob me of my humanity... It proves it." like FUCK OFF FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF\

with the EYES AND THE TEETH TOO C'MON

Good shit good shit they know what's up. They know.

I'm not going to pay $17 for S2 on youtube right now because fuck off. Will come back to it when I have the dosh to chuck and when I don't feel bad about youtube robbing me.

[wrongcaitlyn]

do you have any favorite scenes that didn’t make it into talk ur talk?!?

okay so i took a long time to think about this bc GOD its such a good question but now that i rlly look back at talk ur talk - i realize that i was incredibly self indulgent with writing scenes and what sort of stuff i was including!! i mean, obviously the fic idea as a whole was very self indulgent, but i think that whenever i had an idea for a scene, it ended up in talk ur talk in some way

however, there are definitely some things that i cut out simply because they weren't in character/i didn't think it would be fitting, which sometimes you just have to do! the characters were progressing, and they didn't fit into this cookie cutter mold of a classic celebrity, so obviously i wasn't able to write some of the things i would've liked, aka:

interviews. i would've LOVED to write more interview scenes with nico. but i also knew that he, as a character, very adamantly was not a fan of them, and so obviously i couldn't just make him go back on his word and go off to do a bunch of interviews

more scenes in public/with fans, getting recognized and what not. honestly this may have just come from my own fear of oc's, bc everytime i included other characters that were not from the main cast, i got *terrified* like idk i just try to stay away from them? not like they can't be written well, they absolutely can, i've read fics with some of the most incredible oc's. i am just scared of writing them on my own, so i tended to stay away from the fan interaction thing even though i definitely would've liked to do that more

red carpets/award shows!! i didn't include a lot of these bc i felt like it'd get really repetitive after the first time and i didn't want to clutter up the fic with a bunch of, essentially, the same scenes. he walks down a red carpet. cameras are flashing. he answers some questions. that's pretty much it

OKAY OKAY WAIT THIS IS SOMETHING THAT TECHNICALLY it's not that it didn't *make it* into talk ur talk, but just several ideas that i had that i knew immediately wouldn't ever be in the fic, but like, aghsljdf my heart - him interacting with irl celebs. i KNOW i don't write that, i don't plan on writing that, i don't like writing with real people involved, BUT

him being a special guest on the rep tour

him talking with lorde at the grammys

him just meeting a bunch of other celebs like ugh ik i've thought abt it a lot and it'll never actually show up in the fic but i do like to imagine it!!

something i also didn't include in greatest of luxuries was will listening to welcome to new york. nonstop. like all the time. it's just always there he's always listening to it if i ever mention him listening to a song and not saying a specific song it's welcome to new york bc ofc it is.

(i am currently listening to welcome to new york)

aside from all that, i think when looking back at all of it, the one thing i regret is that i didn't write more school scenes. like. there were so many opportunities, more octavian, more angst, more nico being famous, like i feel like famous kid in a school with the asshole that is octavian would be such a cool dynamic and i kinda regret not writing it more! i think i may, one day, go back and write a few extra scenes of talk ur talk into a few one-shots or something (probably after i finish greatest of luxuries and just get nostalgic over talk ur talk lmfao) but i think that's it! thank you for the ask!!

[unnamed-underachiver]

004: Huang Men Ji

Later that evening, at Achilles' apartment.

Achilles laid down on his bed holding Aeraki's business card whilst stroking the letters.

The sandalwood scent of the card has worn off but Achilles engrained the smell in his nose.

'I should buy a sandalwood perfume next time. It smells so nice.' Achilles thought.

"I need to contact Helen," Achilles sat up and groaned, "Ugh, I feel so weak, it's way too cold for October."

He dialed Helen's number and waited for her to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Achilles leaned on the bed's headboard, "Someone commissioned me."

"Commission? Are you sure? I didn't receive any emails or calls regarding this."

"Yeah, no, he personally went to the studio," Achilles titled his head, "Wait I thought you knew about this."

"EXCUSE ME!? HUH? WHEN!?"

"Uhh, earlier today. I thought you directed someone to me because you were getting revenge for not giving you a raise."

"I would never do that, even for revenge! Do you know who he is!?"

Achilles smiled as he caresses the business card, "I do now."

"What?"

"Let's talk tomorrow, just go to the studio."

"Wait! Hold on Mr. Ekholm—"

"Bye."

"What time—"

Achilles ended the call.

'That's enough socializing for today. I'll get way too busy tomorrow,' Achilles stretched and laid back down.

He could feel his heart flutter whenever he remembers Aeraki. Today was their very first and very 'proper' interaction, if you could even call it that. Achilles' hands itches as he stared at his ceiling thinking about sculpting him.

Maybe that Aeraki guy casted a spell on him, that's why he's so attached, a single interaction and his art block is gone.

Achilles smiled at the silly thought and continues to daydream.

Achilles can sculpt even more than a hundred of him if he really wanted to, he just need to say a number and Achilles would sculpt for the rest of his life.

And then a thought crosses his mind.

'He's not married, is he?'

Achilles shudders.

~•~

Achilles did not sleep a wink.

As soon as he heard the birds singing and the sun started rising, he went to his studio despite not eating.

Entering the cluttered space, he took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, ready for the task ahead. He started by gathering all the empty paint tubes, crumpled papers, and broken brushes scattered across the floor, tossing them into a large trash bag.

Next, he tackled the broken canvases. Carefully, he removed each piece from its easel, stacking them neatly to one side for disposal. Achilles took a moment to breathe. And continued, he moved on to the scattered pieces of stone, glass, mud, and clay, sweeping them into a dustpan.

He then turned his attention to the larger debris. With a grunt, he lifted a broken easel and carried it outside, adding it to the growing pile of discarded items. One by one, he hauled out the remnants of his past projects, He's never this excited to clean up his studio, even Achilles is surprised at himself.

Finally, for the final stretch, "Ugh..." Achilles groaned as he dragged the huge garbage bag across the floor all the way outside to put it in the bin.

Achilles sighed.

"I have to carry all this...?" The bin was too high. He would have to lift more than a ton worth of trash into this bin. Dragging the garbage bag already took a toll on him, now he has to carry it?

Achilles laughed as he felt a tear drop from his eyes.

'I really need to work out.'

Achilles willed himself to lift the garbage bag up but it would not bulge! Until it slowly started to lift on its own...?

Huh?

Why is the garbage bag levitating?

Achilles looked behind him and he was stunned.

A tall, dark and stern man, with his hair gleaming like silver strands and his eyes that looked like fiery rubies, lift the garbage bag like it weighed nothing and swiftly putting it inside the bin.

"You're early." Aeraki said.

"Uhh I, uhm ah... I—" Achilles tried to talk. Tried.

*GROWL*

Until his stomach growled. Achilles looked down to pat his stomach. Right. He rushed to his studio as soon as the sun went up, with no sleep, he cleaned his studio to it's very deep crevices.

Of course he would be starving.

Achilles pursed his lips as he can feel Aeraki's red eyes on him...

"S-Should we start talking about your commission?" With no eye contact, Achilles awkwardly laughed as he led Aeraki inside his studio.

Aeraki followed closely behind him as he raised an eyebrow, "When was the last time you ate?"

Achilles halted on his movements as he slowly turned to look at the man behind him.

'He looks... pissed? Why does he look so angry? There's not much of a difference between his normal expression and his face right now but he seems angrier. But why?'

Aeraki continued to frown and Achilles looked away.

"I expect perfection from anything and everyone," Aeraki said, his voice stern and authoritative. "And perfection requires balance. That means eating breakfast." With a click of his tongue, he turned and left the studio.

*TING-A-LING*

Achilles was dumbfounded.

"What?"

20 Minutes Later

Achilles still stood in the middle of his studio dumbfounded. He remained unmoving for the paat 20 minutes just thinking about how he just lost a client because he didn't eat breakfast. It was so absurd. He blamed his stomach for making a fuss. He thought that kind of noises only happens in fiction, but Achilles was proven wrong.

*TING-A-LING*

"Your hope for a raise is ruined, Helen. I'm sorry. I lost a client." Achilles absentmindedly mumbled maybe even tearing up.

"Haah, eat up first then we can talk." Achilles was stunned, that's not Helen's voice?

Achilles raised his head a lo and behold, Aeraki was back! With takeout!

"Huh?"

"Eat." Aeraki commanded.

Achilles rushed to get a table for the both of them but there's only pedastals around.

Achilles tried to drag it closer to where Aeraki stood, grunting with effort, 'Too many strenuous activities today, how can I even get started on sculpting at this point?'

Without a word, Aeraki walked over and effortlessly lifted the pedestal, carrying it to the center of the room.

'I strive to be as strong as him one day...' Achilles sighed, grabbing two stools from nearby and setting them up near the pedestal.

He looked at Aeraki who was already setting up the food. "T-Thanks..." Achilles mumbled, awkwardly shifting around to try to lessen his overwhelming embarrassment.

"Mm." Aeraki just nodded as he watched Achilles take a bite.

Achilles' eyes widened. It was so good. He didn't know any fast food chain that made food like this. It was braised chicken with rice, it's definitely some kind of Chinese cuisine, but it's Achilles' first time tasting such food.

What do youngsters call it? Ahh yes, mukbang. Achilles definitely looked like he was in a mukbang, and Aeraki just silently stood there, intently watching him.

Achilles, fully focused on his food, ate without any care in the world.

And Aeraki stood there, unaware that the corners of his lips started twitching up.

*TING-A-LING*

The bell on Achilles' studio rang and entered a haggard Helen.

"You could've at least told me who commisioned you— holy shit." Helen, with her mismatched outfit and messy ponytail stumbled upon a questionable scene.

She stared at them for a couple of moments, slowly analyzing the two.

Achilles, sat on a stool, eating Chinese food on top of his pedastal, and a large man with his arms crossed watching closely. Despite his elegant demeanor, Helen couldn't help but think of him as a gangster forcefully making his victim eat.

It was like watching a lion making it's prey fatter to devour it later.

Achilles looked up, mid-bite, and noticed Helen's stunned expression, with his mouth still full he greeted her, "Oh, Helen. Hi."

Helen's eyes darted between Achilles and Aeraki. "What... what's going on here?"

Aeraki remained silent, his intense gaze still fixed on Achilles, who quickly swallowed his food and fumbled for an explanation. "Um, this is Mr. Autumn. He’s the one who commissioned me."

"Uh huh." Helen sidestepped and Aeraki finally glanced at Helen, "HIK!" Helen shuddered. That man was not a lion. He was a dragon, a deity, a God among men. Staring right into his eyes feels like stepping into the middle of the abyss. He's dangerous.

Helen quickly looked away and looked back at Achilles as she frowns with her teeth gritted, "You could've at least warned me it was the muse!"

Achilles pouted as he continued to eat.

Helen sighed as she turned to Aeraki, her professionalism shining through, "Mr. Autumn, you can talk to me about the details of the commission, are you looking to have a sculpture made?"

Aeraki ignored her, his interest focus solely on Achilles, "I only need one sculpture, but you need strength. I expect nothing but perfection from you." he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I will provide you with all necessary details tomorrow, tell me what materials you'll need and I'll also prepare that."

Helen cleared her throat, trying to regain control of the situation. "Mr. Autumn, as Achilles' curator and manager, I usually handle the logistical aspects of commissions. If you could provide me with the specifics, I can ensure everything runs smoothly."

Aeraki didn't immediately respond and Achilles awkwardly continued to eat.

Aeraki finally looked at Helen, and Helen's gaze wavered a bit, "I prefer to communicate directly with the artist. You will receive a written agreement with all the terms. Ensure he is ready."

With that, Aeraki turned on his heel and walked towards the exit, his every movement exuding authority. The bell on the door chimed softly as he left.

Helen released the breath she'd been unconsciously holding in.

"I hate that guy," Helen muttured, as she turned towards the still eating Achilles, "I don't know how you can continue eating in this situation."

Achilles lifted his head, "Why? What happened?"

Helen's jaw dropped, "Seriously?" She rubbed her temples, trying to process his obliviousness, or is it ignorance at his part? "You just had a visit from one of the most intimidating men I've ever met, who also happens to be your mysterious muse, and you're sitting here eating like it's just another Tuesday."

Achilles shrugged, popping the food into his mouth. "I mean, it is just another Tuesday, at least I got commissioned. That's good, right?"

Helen sighed, exasperation clear on her face. "Yes, Achilles, it's good. But that man, he's not someone to take lightly. He just showed up, unannounced, and practically forced you to take his commission. And did you see how he looked at me? Like I was some kind of nuisance."

'Well he can be a little intense sometimes.' Achilles thought.

"But he's really nice."

Helen's face distorted into disgust, as she scoffed and looked away to mumble, "This guy has lost his mind."

"I'm being serious! He's just very honest, but he's a good guy." Achilles talked louder.

"I don't even know what you see in him."

"He's handsome."

Helen groaned, "Ugh gross, are you that blinded by his face to ignore the fact that he's dangerous?"

Achilles tilted his head, confused, "How can he be dangerous? He's anything but that."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Helen sarcastically muttured as she whips out a pen and paper from who knows where and slowly starts to write down a contract.

"No I'm telling you, he's not!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Helen!"

[goji-pilled]

spoilers for the first main boss of shadow of the erdtree 👍

i dont think i necessarily would have to tag this as spoilers considering we have seen it before in trailers and its not a secret it exists but eh better safe than sorry for now i suppose

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so that marks the first remembrance boss of the dlc as beaten in ng+2, from scratch (this is the first run of the dlc on this character), and this time i did it completely solo without any summons.

and whew my opinion definitely has changed a lot compared to the first time i fought it.

during the first run i absolutely hated this thing. genuinely one of my least favourite bosses and i have no doubt that i will still despise fighting this guy's death blight cousin ugh. this time however? i actually?? enjoyed the fight?? for the most part anyway.

i dont know what it is because my scadutree level is 4 as of in this clip which isn't any more than it was in the first run + this guy should do more damage and have more health now too but it somehow?? didnt feel like it??? idk if the dragonslayer katana is just broken like that or if they tweaked something during the patches but boy it felt so much better this tims.

which, again, is crazy considering im doing this in ng+2 from scratch.

however, i still have my share of criticism.

for one there are times where the effects from his bajillion phases put a noticable dent into my fram rate which absolutely sucks. and while im at the effects: there were also just times they either cluttered the screen and it was difficult to see anything, or where stuff like the tornado straight up just blocks the entire view of the dancing lion.

there's also the aoe stuff in the arena during the lighting phase which i find to be extremely annoying and feels like it was added just for the sake of making it more difficult. all it does is contribute to the points above made about the effects.

its not nearly as bad as it was with that atrocious final boss though LMFAO

also, arguably the worst part: although the lion's moveset is extremely cool and does the dancing part justice, with the way it zooms around there are times the camera just fucking goes all over the place making it hard to see and follow what is happening which cost me multiple deaths.

overall though still actually a very cool experience and a great boss though, not to mention that the theme is an absolutely fantastic banger; 7/10 👍

[mrs-monaghan]

SHAZ 😭😭

https://twitter.com/DYSPHORlCA/status/1698126473167552663?s=20

I mean... the low budget, the low number of subscribers. This person is clearly extremely lucky to have been given recognition by V. However, this is the Barbie movie all over again. I never would have watched that movie if they hadn't used Jimin. And I not only watched it but I watched it in theatre 🤡🤡 luckily, its actually a good movie, so no regrets here. But still!

Now this person has V in the beginning of the video and it made me watch the whole thing. So that's one view from me. Imagine how many Armys are gonna watch it just the one time, too.

His biggest song is 2M so he had to capitalize on this but damn the amount of laziness!! His editor did not make any effort to find a better video of V. Zero effort which annoys the shit out of me. They used a titkok with words all over it. Something about V's wardrobe, if I was gonna put a clip of a BTS member I wouldn't just use the first one I find. Plus a little research and they could have ended up on weverse and screenrecorded that part themselves. Or they could have kept scrolling really and found a better clip.

Sorry guys, I am that one person who has issues with uncropped images so them using a cluttered clip on an official MV is really annoying to me. They didn't even download the TT so the OP's name is now all over the damn thing!!!! Ugh. So annoying!!!

But that aside, this is hilarious AF and good for them. Only an idiot wouldn't shoot their shot

[luckyluan]

The Champion.

March 23, 2024 - 11:27pm

Toshi stared down at the glowing metal card. It was warm like it just came out of the forge, and it growled a low, but energetic hum sending tremors up his muscular arms. 

“It’s an invitation to the Tournament of Strength. I did it! I made it to the Tournament of Strength. I’m going to Hemet’s Hideaway!” 

Imani stared at him quizzically. Her arms crossed over her signature vintage t-shirt; and she clucked her tongue. 

“Right. Cause all those words made since in that order.” she said. 

“Ugh. Mortals. See, there is this tournament—wait, no, let me back up.” Toshi stumbled. “At the dawn of the universe---ummm, that probably too far--” 

“Highlights, Toshi. Hit the highlights for me, please.” Imani said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Okay,” Toshi took a deep breath. “Do you remember how I told you I was only half mortal? Well, the other half is god. Umm, a god. I am a demigod. 

Imani looked him up and down. 

“Right...” she said. 

“Yeah, so, my dad is Tektun. The earth godhead. He-he controls the tectonic plates, earthquakes, all metals, and minerals that come from the earth and stuff like that. So, all his kids have a unique, ummm, aspect about them. Mine is strength. I’m super strong. 

“I said Cliff notes, Toshi.” 

“Ugh. Fine.” Toshi pushed a loose loc out of his excited face. “I have superpowers.” 

“Knew that.” Imani stated. 

“I have been training for a, literally, mythic tournament of strength that could make me a god like my dad!” 

“The Earth God.” Imani finished. 

“Godhead, but yes. This tournament is the MET Gala of superstrength. Demigods and creatures from all over the omniverse train for millennia to get one of these and I...got one...at 18.” 

“Mhm...mhm...fascinating. So, when do we leave?”  

Suddenly, the metal invitation brightened. The celestial card filled the room with uncomfortable warmth as the metal began to glow. Its dull hum swelled while its thick edges glowed a simmering orange. The room began to shudder violently. The closet doors knocked against their frames. Toshi’s tall, cedar dresser fell forward narrowly missing a frightened Imani. 

“Now.” Toshi yelled. “Quick grab it!” 

“I’m not touching that thing!” Imani shouted. 

“Imani!” Toshi shouted back. 

“Ugh. Fine.”  

Imani and Toshi grabbed the searing metal plate and disappeared in a flash of orange light and their cluttered dorm room went quiet. 

[melis-writes]

Bobby Deerfield prompt pls 😎 when he’s in the bath and has the phone, gets a call from reader saying she misses him and turns into phone sex 😫

Bobby Deerfield prompts, YES!! 🥵🥵🥵 Ugh, that scene of him in the bathtub is so sexy. He’s honestly so irresistible, especially in that tub. 🥴 Putting that phone call to good use here. 😈

Once a day without fail after the races, Bobby prefers to spend the majority of his relaxation time alone in his own solitude, fixing himself a hot bath.

The hot, foamy bath water in the tub surrounds Bobby and warms his supple skin, causing his muscles to relax as droplets of water from his damp hair trickles down his back.

Bobby lets out a deep breath, holding a cigarette loosely in the corner of his mouth as he gazes at the bath tray in front of him.

More so continuing business and work rather than completely relaxing in a hot bath, the bath tray in front of Bobby contains an ashtray filled with four recently smoked cigarettes, a lighter, a small cup of coffee, a telephone, a pack of cigarettes, a basket filled with varieties of old postcards, paper slips and notes, and a blue print sheet laid out on the centre of the tray with a detailed sketch of all of the mechanics, gears and pieces of Bobby’s personal race car.

Bobby carefully takes notes over the side of the blueprint, analyzing his race car in great detail with full focus despite the clutter over the bath tray surrounding the blueprint.

The only thing separating you from your fiancée is distance; you remain back at you and Bobby’s home in New Jersey, anticipating Bobby’s wins and the end of his spring racing campaign in Paris.

It’s you who initiates the call first, snuggled in bed with the telephone next to you—having checked and compared the differing timezones before attempting to reach out to your fiancée.

Even as the telephone rings loudly next to Bobby, he refuses to lose his focus. Without separating his eyes from the blueprint, he simply reaches his free hand over and puts the telephone up to his ear.

“Hello?” Bobby speaks out in a rather distracted tone, continuing to scribble down more notes.

“Hi, baby. It’s me.” You blush, speaking from the other end.

Just from the sound of your voice and the realization its you whose calling, Bobby immediately blinks and pulls his attention off of his blueprint.

“Darling, hi.” Bobby murmurs, quick to set down his pen on the bath tray. “I wasn’t expecting you to call until later on.”

“I thought I’d surprise you.” You rest your head against your pillow. “I couldn’t wait that long—not after thinking about how your race went all day. I miss you too much.”

“I miss you all the more.” Bobby takes the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it out in the ashtray. “I won’t be here long, baby. I only have two more races and you know those commercial contracts I signed to do here.”

“It’s alright, I know.” You shrug your shoulders to yourself, unable to wipe the smile off your face. “I don’t mean to rush you.”

“You might as well.” Bobby lets out a deep sigh. “It’s not the same here without you at all.”

“I know,” you pout. “More than ever I want to be there to support you, but you know all this morning sickness has been killing me.” Your eyes dart down to your stomach. “I feel like any kind of stress gets me nauseous all the time, let alone the plane ride to France.”

“You are eating for two now after all.” Bobby points out, a small smile over his lips. “You and the baby’s health is more important above all. Don’t mind any of this. It doesn’t matter. You know I prefer racing in Jersey anyway.”

“Still,” you giggle softly. “I can make a trip out of it to see you race in Europe too. Maybe once the baby’s developed a bit more. It’s too soon to tell. We both miss you. Are you busy right now?”

“Depends on your definition of busy.” Bobby glances into his empty coffee cup. “I’m alone, just enjoying a bath.”

“Just a bath?” You tease, fully aware of Bobby’s cluttered bath tray.

“And some blueprint analysis, as you know.” Bobby slowly pushes the bath tray away from him, resting his back against the tub. “Not right now. I only want to talk to you.”

“Don’t remind me,” your cheeks flare up with blush. “Do you picture me there with you?”

Bobby’s eyes flutter shut as he relaxes. “All the time, especially now. You do remember the last time, don’t you?”

“Oh, stop.” You clench your legs, remembering very well from the last month how a steamy session in the bath tub lead to your pregnancy. “My hormones are all over the place, I can’t stop thinking about it as is.”

“Stop thinking about what?” Bobby rakes a hand through his wet hair. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

You lick over your lips, remaining quiet for a moment. “I can’t stop thinking about that night…”

“The bedroom wasn’t enough.” Bobby’s voice lowers to a husky tone. “Was it?”

“I remember…” You let out a soft whimper, moving your free hand down between your legs as you eye the dresser where you watched yourself in the mirror mercilessly get fucked from behind. “You know I remember everywhere you took me that night.”

With the hot water only fueling his arousal, Bobby grunts quietly to himself as he notices his erection growing in the tub. “You’re expecting it, just like how you did then. It’s what you want again, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t say I had enough the first time…” You push your panties aside. “Almost two hours, that whole night. How could I get enough? You edged me for a week and then…”

“Mm.” Bobby can already easily picture again in his mind as to how he slipped your lingerie off of you and could barely get you over to the bed with the built up sexual frustration between you two. “You tell me what you want me to do to you when I get back.”

“Everything.” You breathe, placing your fingers over your clit. “I won’t let myself cum.”

“Good girl,” Bobby murmurs softly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to tie me up to the bedpost again,” you swallow hard, feeling a rush of thrilling arousal pump through you. “Or tie my hands behind my back. Take me however you want, I just—mmm…”

Bobby’s well noticed from the beginning that you’re already touching yourself, turning him on in the process. “You like being my personal little slut, don’t you? Touching yourself like that.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you whisper back, rubbing over your clit in lazy circles. “Fuck me from behind and moan that in my ear again and again.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

here is a scruffy little angel! ok I feel pretty fragile inside from a week of bad sleep & an especially terrible insomnia experience last night but I am trying to be brave about it. two of my grad school friends I haven’t seen in forever are in town this weekend and I am v excited about that!!! I always get weird homebody inertia around social stuff but then I have a great time (like last night I really dragged my feet on hanging out with M&A in the park/getting dinner after and then it was so much fun) so I just have to commit to stuff even if I feel like socially hibernating. when it comes to most social things my instincts are not a reliable guide to what will actually make me happy. so tonight I will meet up with them for dinner/drinks and then tomorrow we will hang out at the lake.

here are some things I’d like to do with the day:

finish young mungo which is absolutely gutting ughhh so painful but so good. I kind of want to put up my hammock and read somewhere without distractions but can’t decide if it’s too much effort. mm tbd.

work on writing meme prompts (this has been v good for me it’s forcing me to dig into scene writing/revision which for whatever reason is the thing I’ve built up the most writer’s block anxiety around)

the house is a tip right now it’s not dirty really just super untidy and the clutter is making me feel on edge. I think I need to do a few song-timed bursts of putting stuff in its proper place and ugh I might actually start with that so my brain feels calmer about other stuff

fold laundry

long walk with dogs because I didn’t walk them at all yesterday… I can tell I am avoiding walks partly because it’s a bit hotter out and partly because I’m getting Walk Boredom with our usual route. I think I’ll drive them to the slightly farther-out forest (4 min instead of 2 min haha) because it’ll be cooler and kinda interesting/new. also if I’m feeling really motivated I could do a very short run after I drop them off at home—I’m talking like, 3 min run / 3 min walk times 3 short haha. gotta ease back into it somehow.

pick something to wear well in advance of leaving. otherwise I will get so stressed later on and will end up running way later than I mean to & being way more amped up when I leave. why are clothes so stressful to me literally no one cares and I feel like people care even less in this city than anywhere else I’ve ever lived lol

shower around 3:30/4 so I can be ready to leave between 5-6ish

mm okay that all seems good. I think now it’s time to get up and do my first burst of song cleaning… maybe I will do all too well 10 min version + I can see you.

[the-knightmare]

Dear Diary

@flufftober Prompt: deary diary.

‘Dear Diary, I think I have feelings for a friend. Not Jimmy Jr. this time, I got over him before high school. I think I like Zeke. It started two weeks ago when we studied for that math test (I passed with a C by the way). We were going over the practice questions when his hand brushed mine, and Diary I felt sparks. Ever since I haven’t stopped thinking about him. I hadn’t realized how muscular Zeke got from the wrestling team, or how his smile is a little lopsided when he’s laughing. I can’t stop thinking about what kissing him in the middle of prom would be like, super romantic. I have an idea of how it would go: It starts when’- Louise slammed the journal shut with an exclamation.

“Oh, sick! I’m not reading this mushy crap!”

Gene grabbed the journal from his sister, “let me see, I want to know if her prom fantasy has as many musical-style dance numbers as mine.”

“Ugh, why do you and Tina get so excited about a stupid dance? It’s just an excuse to buy expensive dresses and go to after parties,” Louise huffed tossing her arms in the air, “but at least we know why Tina’s been acting silly in front of Zeke lately. Think he’ll ask her out?”

“Now that you mention it, Zeke has been acting funny around Tina. I mean, he’s been in love with her since junior high, but he’s never been nervous about it before.”

‘It starts when prom posters are put up. Prom is on the brain and boys are asking girls every day with cute promposals. Cue Zeke, at our usual lunch table with our friends, he waits until I sit down before pulling out a wooden horse from shop class with ‘Prom?’ carved on it. When I say yes, our friends cheer but everything fades as we touch hands.’

“You think Zeke would be up to this plan?” Louise asked, turning to Gene with a mischievous grin.

“I may have heard him talking with Jimmy Jr about tips for asking a girl to prom, so he may be receptive, but I thought you didn’t like all this stuff?”

Louise shrugged, looking away from her brother. She wouldn’t say it, but she could deal with the ‘mushy crap’ if it meant making her siblings happy. Complain the whole time about the sentimentalism and romantic gestures she would. But at the end of the day, Louise would endure the eye-roll worthy displays of romance if it meant Tina would be happy. Not that she would tell Gene or Tina any of that.

“I don’t, but this could involve getting Zeke in a horse costume to deliver the carving, and that would be funny,” Louise said, taking the journal to replace it among Tina’s desk clutter.

“Oh, what about getting a live horse and Zeke promposes on the beach!” Gene exclaimed.

“But that doesn’t involve a costume, save it for the marriage proposal,” Louise replied, with only mild sarcasm.

“Good point. This can be goofy and over the top with costumes, the horse can wait for the dramatic romcom wedding.”

Zeke was quick to jump on the horse costume plan, something Louise wasn’t surprised with when she remembered his mascot costume theft. Gene was able to borrow a costume from the drama club, leaving Zeke open to carving the horse during free a week of open wood shop at lunch. Louise tasked herself with distracting Tina from Zeke’s absence so that when the day finally came, two weeks after reading her diary, Tina was surprised when a horse-costumed Zeke delivered a carved horse to their table with ‘Prom?’ carved on its side.

Before Tina and Zeke entirely faded from their plane of existence into a world of their own, Louise leaned over to her sister.

“I already switched shifts with you this evening so you guys can have a date or something. You’re welcome.” It may have been a Friday night shift, one where she usually stayed up with popcorn and whatever movie marathon Louise managed to get a hold of, but for Tina’s happiness it was worth the sacrificed Friday night.