#still trying to figure out what i am gonna line this piece with

[erigold13261]

Finally found my posca pens! Hopefully they still work!

[arafilez]

੭୧ ⼂ OH? CROCHETING ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ skz ot8 x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff, estb. relationship 𓏧 reaction ㅤ warnings none ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k / mem wc ㅤ𓏧 ㅤ req

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ BANG CHAN ꒱

Chan opens the door to the apartment and says, “I am back,” in a sweet manner and an adorable grin, only for everything to go futile. He doesn’t hear you answer him making him tilt his head in confusion. He looks around and notices a dim light from the bedroom door despite the dark living room.

It is too early for you to be sleeping!

He keeps his bags down and walks towards the bedroom slowly prying the door open and a gasp leaves his mouth at the adorable scene that unfolds in front of him. You, lying on the bed, eyes closed and soft snores leaving your mouth and a half-done crochet top in your hands.

He walks towards you slowly, and gently removes your fingers off the pastel green material, giggling at how cute the sweater looks and then looks at you. He circles his arms around your waist trying to get you to a sleeping position but that gets you up as you jerk up.

“Woah, okay love, slow down," he replies and you stare at him, still in a bit of a haze as he coos at you, “Let’s get you to sleep, my crocheting star.”

“Mhm, good idea,” you whisper making him stare at you with half-moon eyes before a full-blown smile etches his face and he pulls you closer to get comfortable.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ LEE MINHO ꒱

Minho comes back home and his eyes narrow at his two cats sitting on the floor with crocheted cat sweaters on them. They nuzzle against his ankles and he crouches down and pats their heads saying, “Where’s Doongie?” Where is his third cat anyway?

“I can’t believe you come home and the first thing you ask for is Doongie and not the person who made those?” you fake-scoff making Minho turn in his heels and look at you holding Doongie, who is happily nuzzling against your arms. He purrs lightly in his sage green clothing and on top of it stays in your arms when Minho tries to take him.

“Someone appreciates this, at least,” you smile making Minho roll his eyes affectionately. He gently pries Doongie off your arms and places a chaste kiss on your lips saying, “Yeah, but I love you so that makes up for everything.”

“Hm, does it?” you tease but kiss him back as his head leans against yours and he holds your waist, stroking gentle lines against it. As you part away you watch him take out his phone and take pictures of his three cats before sending it to his friends.

“They look so cute,” he giggles looking at the matching and adorable sweaters and then turns to you, “You’re so cute.” “And you’re cheesy,” you giggle as he laughs along with you in the quiet home.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ SEO CHANGBIN ꒱

Changbin enters the apartment after his evening gym routine only to find it oddly quiet. He looks around and spots the muted T.V. and you lying down on the couch with a half-done crochet top in your hands.

He smiles at your adorable figure with an equally adorable piece in your hand before he walks up to you and sits beside you. Closing down the show, he picks out his phone and clicks a picture of you. His giggles are what wakes you up and you blink before getting up.

Rubbing your eyes you ask, “Binnie, when did you get here?” “Long enough to see you sleeping with that and take the cutest pictures in the world. I might win a Guinness World Record for capturing the cutest person.” You slap his arm and he laughs as you look down at the half-made top in your hands and feel the tiredness taking over.

Putting your head on his shoulder as he rounds his arm around your figure asking, “Tired?” “Yes, gonna finish this tomorrow,” you yawn halfway through your sentence and he replies, “Okay cutie, let’s so sleep.”

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ HWANG HYUNJIN ꒱

“Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin,” you jump around excitedly as soon as he enters the room and looks at you, a small smile etching his face at your sight. You are wearing a fluffy crochet cap, is that what it is called, Hyunjin wonders and a piece of crochet material is lying on the table in front of you.

His loose clothes on your body makes him giggle as you happily bounce towards him saying, “Look what I made.” His eyes land on the hat and the pale colour and intricate designs and he says, “It’s adorable!”

“I know, right?” you jump and he holds you and kisses your lips lightly making you calm down. “Let’s take some pictures,” you nod happily at his idea before you two pose for the camera and take them at weird angles just to get a good laugh.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ HAN JISUNG ꒱

“Baby, this is hard,” Jisung’s whine doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you finish the sweater you were making and grin at him. “That is because you are new at it,” you say making him pout more.

He tries for a good fifteen minutes before slumping back on the couch and keeping the crochet hook and yarn down. “Woah, did I finally find something Han Jisung, our ace, is bad at?” you giggle as he glares at you.

“I am not bad, I simply don’t have the patience right now,” he replies making you shrug, “Same difference.” You laugh loudly as he pounces on your body, tickling you, god knows how he found your weirdest tickle spots too, making you squirm and apologise at his giggly face.

Needless to say, a week later Jisung pops into your work-room with a smirk on his face and a fully crocheted sweater in his hands with the most intricate design as you stare in awe. “Told ya,” he says with a smug smile as you stare at it dumbfounded. He truly is an ace.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ LEE FELIX ꒱

Felix tiptoes into your room to surprise you after work but the scene takes him by surprise instead. He chuckles lightly at you, currently asleep with a plushie beside you and a crochet piece on your lap. Fishing out his phone he quickly takes some pictures and then wakes you up to make you sleep properly.

The next morning you wake up to a smiley Felix as you stretch lightly and ask, “Why are so shining before the sun baby?” “Because of you,” he replies making you snort, “Cheesy ass.”

“I took some interesting pictures yesterday,” he whispers before reaching out for it and you blink trying to adjust to the light. You look beside at his cheeky grin and a picture of you sleeping which is clearly from last night making you gasp. Holy shit! You are drooling there and that picture is literally his homescreen? Is he out of his mind?

“Lee Yongbok, you will remove that from your home screen right now,” you say, trying to climb over him in vain as he pouts, “What no, you look so cute.” “I am drooling,” you reason, eyes moving frantically and he kisses you before you burst into palpitations saying, “Yeah that is why it is only for my eyes to see love.”

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ KIM SEUNGMIN ꒱

Seungmin enters the building and reaches the apartment putting in the lock-code. He looks around in confusion as the empty living room greets him and your abandoned slippers lie on the floor. “Y/n?” he calls once before his eyes land on the dim light coming from the bedroom door.

Walking towards it he looks inside as he watches you sleep with a small crochet top half-done. He chuckles lightly as he watches a bit of drool around the corner of your lips. Softly sitting down on the bed, he leans to the side and strokes his fingers over your cheek. You hum in your sleep leaning into his touch making him look at you endearingly.

He shakes you lightly and the movement makes you open your eyes, a hazy vision of Seungmin’s face and you stifle a yawn saying, “Hi.” “Crocheting?” he asks, in a soft and quiet tone and you murmur ‘yes’ and tilt your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your waist easily.

“Keeping this aside for tomorrow,” he murmurs to mostly himself as he shuffles around in the bed, your light snores reaching his ears. He holds you and your head nuzzles against his neck as you two get into a comfortable nap.

੭ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ꒰ YANG JEONGIN ꒱

“Never making stuff with you ever again,” Jeongin complains making you roll your eyes at him. All this drama is because of a crochet hook. “I would rather die than crochet,” he continues and you sigh, there he goes again!

“Yang Jeongin you are insufferable,” you whisper lightly tapping his cheek as he narrows his eyes and says, “How are you doing it anyway?” “By having patience and not sighing with every minor inconvenience,” your snarky reply makes him grin and say, “Well there is my talented person.”

“Buttering me into completing yours won’t work,” you exclaim and he promptly replies, “How about a nice little date with greasy popcorn and cheesy rom-com?”

“Keep talking, it might be working,” you reply and he takes the opportunity to slide his arms around you saying, “All for my pretty baby.” “A kiss on lips and sold,” you whisper making him peck you immediately and you giggle, “Fine we can do this later.”

He enthusiastically puts the items away before running to bring popcorn as you select a show.

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤi am sorry but i don’t even know if this is good. i am sorry for the wait too but it was written in the guide i searched up pictures to get what you mean and I hope you like it. ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @kyrjnie ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[tojipie]

prison bf series linked here !

hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.

content: nsfw + phone sex

──────────────────────

the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.

the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.

you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.

“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.

the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.

“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.

“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.

“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.

“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”

he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”

“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.

“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”

you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.

“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.

“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”

he stills, looking you up and down quickly.

"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."

you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.

“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”

“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.

“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.

“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.

“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.

the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.

his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .

“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.

“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.

“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”

“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”

you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.

sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.

a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.

you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.

“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.

“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.

“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”

“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.

“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.

“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.

“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.

“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”

“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.

“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”

the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.

────────────────────────

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa

[landinrris]

Football AU snippet in which Carlos asks about Lando's willingness to participate in a friends and family football match for charity. (Very much inspired by Lando's PlayStation match)

Lando’s busy unloading a few vases from the kiln when he hears the back door to his studio unit open. He slides one of the vases onto a shelf and glances down at his watch to see that it’s around 5:30. Probably Carlos then.

He finishes unloading the vases onto the nearby shelf before he picks up a couple and walks back out into his main workshop area. Sure enough, Carlos is there in a pair of joggers and a hoodie sitting on the stool in front of Lando’s painting and glazing workbench. He’s busy inspecting the centerpiece bowl Lando had been painting intricate designs on earlier.

“What’re you doing here?” Lando asks, walking the two vases in his hands over to the table where Carlos is. He places them down to the side before making his way to Carlos and sitting on his leg. He loops his arms around Carlos’ shoulders and leans forward to kiss him.

Carlos grins against his lips and winds his arms around Lando’s waist to tug him closer. He smells like the shampoo and soap from the club's shower stalls and not at all like he’d been working out all afternoon.

“I figured you were still here, and I wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Mmm, just finishing up unloading some things, and then I was gonna head home. But now that you’re here, guess I don’t have to take the tube.”

“That is the only reason?”

Lando scratches absentmindedly at the nape of Carlos’ neck and smiles back. “Yeah, the only reason, clearly.”

Carlos pinches Lando’s ass, and Lando very resolutely does not react to it.

“This piece is beautiful. Is it for anyone specifically?” Carlos asks, nodding towards the bowl. Lando’s done pieces like this in the past, but not this specific kind of ornate pattern.

He’d wanted to try something new, something that inspired him about the way Carlos had been playing these last few months at his new team. He thinks the swirling red and black lines get at that magical way Carlos moves across the field-- that he captured it pretty well. He doesn’t tell Carlos as much now, not yet sure what he wants to do with the piece once it’s finished.

“Haven’t decided yet. I’m glad you like it though. Maybe I’ll keep it for us.”

Carlos squeezes his arms tighter and presses another kiss to Lando’s lips. Lando melts into it, never one to not take Carlos’ kisses when offered. It’s not quite late enough that Lando’s confident they’re truly alone or else he might let himself escalate things.

“There was something else I wanted to ask you,” Carlos eventually says, his thumb moving back and forth beneath Lando’s hoodie and against his skin.

Lando pulls his head back to a more respectable distance so that he can look at Carlos for whatever he needs to say. “What’s up?”

“The team is having a family and friends friendly match in two weeks for charity. I think I mentioned it last week briefly.”

Lando nods. Carlos had mentioned it in passing in the context of Lando donating a few pieces. They'd decided on a few mugs and vases for the online charity auction.

“They were trying to get a headcount of who planned to have a family member or friend to sign up. They are beginning to draw up the rosters. I told them that I would have to ask, but you might be interested?”

Lando chokes on a laugh. “Me? When have I ever been known to play football more than to help you train every so often?”

“Exactly. You will know more than half of the people who will come to play. And there will be a coaching session before any matches are played. Think of the children, Lando. You will do so much for them.”

“Am I not already doing enough?” Lando teases. He rolls the idea around in his mind and thinks about being the one on the field looking up to see Carlos in the stands. What it might feel like. To get a taste of what Carlos experiences every week. The thought admittedly thrills him.

“And who exactly are they getting to play?”

“They are putting together a mixed team. Some of the guys’ girlfriends and wives have agreed to play. A few of their friends. I convinced Teto to come play, and you would be a person as well.”

“Be your wag representative?”

“I do not think you are a wife or a girlfriend the last time I checked.”

“Oh sorry, sorry, your hab representative then.”

“Yes, much better. I cannot make any promises you will be on the same team as Teto though.”

Lando can’t help but groan. He might be allegedly better than half of the people coming to play, but he’ll not be better than Teto of all people. “Play the marginalized card.”

“Lando, I cannot do that.” He drops his face down onto Lando’s shoulder and huffs out a laugh. Lando holds him close and lets the giggles consume him as well, ever the one to feed off of Carlos’.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it. Let you be the one cheering me on for once. Just tell Teto to go easy on me if we’re not on the same team.”

Carlos lifts his face from Lando’s shoulder and looks at him with a serious expression. “Of course. I cannot tell you how excited I am to be the one watching. I know you will be brilliant.”

Lando swallows and scratches a hand around Carlos’ neck and up to his cheek. He searches for something to say, but nothing comes to his mind. Nothing to do the swirling thoughts and emotions in his mind justice. All he can figure to do is smile and swipe his thumb back and forth over Carlos’ cheek.

Eventually, Lando sighs. “This is gonna be some kind of roleplay kink for you, isn’t it?”

The laugh Carlos barks out is perfect. “Oh, do not think this hasn’t crossed my mind, don’t worry. Maybe after the match though. We need you in peak condition.”

Lando scoffs. “Figures. Okay, let me finish unloading the kiln and then we can go? Maybe we can do something that’s not one of your meal preps for dinner.”

Carlos clenches his hands against Lando’s hips and back and smiles. “Sounds perfect.”

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

OK finally back with some more drawings! Since Touhou 17 is approaching it's 5 year anniversary soon, I wanted to draw at least one of the charatcers (hopefully I'll still be motivated to draw Keiki lol) and I had some ideas for Saki and I've never drawn her before, so that's how we got here!

Artist's Notes;

So after doing some drawings of my OCs (who I will reveal upon a later date since I still wanna finalize their designs) and finally getting out of my art funk that I've been in for a while, I started off this drawing with the mentality of "oh yeah I'm just gonna put together this quick outfit for Saki and I won't bother rendering it"

...and then I did but to be honest I am very happy I did because oh my god clothes are so fun to render for me now. I remembered the technique I used on my drawing of Reimu and applied that here. That technique being using triangles to imply shadows and highlights in clothing and then blending out those shadows to give the clothing some three dimensionality. My favourite things that I rendered in this piece were the gloves, hat and the belt buckle (since I applied a technique for rendering gold and metal objects that I remember seeing/hearing about a while ago). Don't get me wrong, I love how all the clothing turned out in this piece but the gloves are the real standout of this piece to me. I also had some fun with the cowboy boots (I couldn't figure out how to make those cool metal star things work on the boots though that is a sin I fully intend to fix later down the line) since when I looked at references for them I noticed how some of them had these intricate details embroidered (?) onto them.

Also, in the earliest phases of this drawing Saki had this really big black coat that I decided to get rid of later down the line because it really does not work with her fighting style and it did not stand out against her wings, and the logistics of her getting said jacket with her wings on confused me. Like, I can kind of imaging that on her shirt she has a little open spot for her wings that she can just put them in. That goes for Yachie to but now I'm even more confused because all her clothes must need some open backs because of her shell??? Which raises some more questions, like, can she just never be on her back when sleeping??? Looking at Yuuma we can see that the beast yakuza in Touhou can freely change their form from human to beast so can Yachie just double down on the human bit and get rid of her shell temporarily so she can sleep comfortably??? Because if she lays on her back is she just kinda wobbling around like most turtles are when they're on their backs? Can she hypothetically retreat into her shell, if so that has some weird implications to how her anatomy works. Like, what does her skeleton look like? Seriously, what are the logistics here WHERE DOES YACHIE GET HER FUCKING CLOTHES BECAUSE THEY PROBABLY NEED TO BE SPECIFICALLY TAILORED SO SHE CAN PUT IT ON TO FIT HER SHELL I DON'T NEED SLEEP I NEED ANSWERS YACHIE WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS-

....rant aside, you can see the remnants of this idea in the tattered back of her... idk what to call it but I know she has a variant of this in her OG design. I mainly wanted to test this out because of the cursed realization that The Ghoul in Fallout Prime is just a male Saki but if Utsuho gave Saki radiation poisoning. No seriously, they're smug ass cowboys who are so sure of their own strength that have fought at least one mechanically engineered robot in some variation of a wasteland with an affinity for dogs. I'm now morbidly curious as to what would happen if you put the two of them in a room together. Would they try to kill each other? Would they become besties? Would they try to kill each other and then become besties? Who knows. But yeah jokes aside the tattered cloth was a design choice that was inspired by The Ghoul from Fallout Prime because y'know, same vibes. And also because yes I do love Fallout Prime and I am so ready for season two IT'S SO GOOD GO WATCH IT EVEN IF YOU AREN'T FAMILIAR WITH FALLOUT AS A SEIRES GO DO IT NOW, SAIL THE SEVEN SEAS FOR IT IF YOU HAVE TO JUST WATCH IT-

I knew for Saki's face I wanted to give her some thick eyebrows, it just makes sense. I also wanted to give her some scarring on her face because she's a crime boss, why wouldn't she have scars? I also had some fun with her little horse ear that's sticking out from the side of her hat since it would kinda look weird if she just had no ears period. I also went ham on stylizing her ponytail into this weird swirl, since if I were to show you some of my recent doodles from my sketchbook you would notice that that has become a common motiffe in some of my art. I don't know why but I just like it. Saki's wings were also very fun, I found a good reference for bird wings that are specifically shaped for high speeds (though I did add some stylistic touches so her one wing that's out wouldn't look like a big blob) since her whole thing is speed. From very early on in the process I knew that I wanted Saki to not look skinny, so I found some refs of female kickboxers for her legs and noticed that while parts of their upper body are maybe a bit toned, it's the legs that have a lot of power. I mainly did this because kicking is a huge part of her fighting style.

Overall, I'm really happy with this drawing, and once Touhou 17's anniversary rolls around I do want to go more in depth on my thoughts in the game, it's themes, and how the animal realm functions as a dark parallel to Gensokyo in many ways. I'll also have to get around to drawing Yachie and Keiki as well (if I still have the time and motivation to do so) since I have some ideas for their designs that I'm very excited to draw (especially Keiki).

[shotmrmiller]

✨Toni~✨

I come with an idea. I need more FWB! Simon. I need angst, I need to suffer from this man, I know he would do us so dirty.

Like imagine since the both of him and reader are non exclusive, but reader gets knocked up. She's panicking because she's on birth control, trying to figure out who she slept with last and it's HIM-

And maybe, just maybe the last time they slept together, they had a fight. Because this Mansss decided to leave us after an argument, because he had another 'appointment'.

So yeah know, now we got to tell this dick we're knocked up. And I don't know you can go from there, if you don't like this idea, delete it ignore it.🫠

BUT ANGST.

Thank you for your time, I love you Toni you rock like always! 💓

oh, so dirty.

esp if i use the fwb simon from the (platonic) cbf johnny au i got.

Johnny held your hand as you waited the 5 minutes for the results of the pregnancy test.

"What am I gonna do if it's positive, Johnny? I can't...I'm not ready to be a mum!" you sniffled and took in a shuddered breath. "What are the chances that I'm the 1%?"

His expression was solemn, thin lips set in a firm line. "Ye finally gonna tell me tha' the father is Simon or do ye wish to continue playin' yer little game?" Johnny rasped.

You rest your head on his shoulder and tiredly close your eyes.

"Was hoping I'd never have to tell you. It was supposed to be just a quick knocking of boots and then we both went my merry, his miserable, ways. But as per usual, I'm just dogged by misfortune."

The wait for the timer to ring had your heart slamming against your ribcage. The prospect of birthing a child you never even thought about having had bile rising up to your throat, leaving an acrid taste on your tongue.

You start at the piercing ring of the timer but don't move to get up.

Johnny, forever your hero, is the one who bites the bullet for you.

He gently flips over the stick, stares at it for a second, then drags a hand down his face. He also doesn't look at you as he utters, "So are ye gonna tell 'em?"

You hastily crawl over to the toilet bowl and empty your stomach.

Pregnant.

--

You told Johnny everything. How it started that one night when he had been over here for drinks, and you had put Johnny to bed because he'd gotten to sloshed, to propositioning him and then the weekly hook ups.

Well, almost everything. He didn't need to know that you gave Simon a sloppy toppy in his kitchen while he snored away that same night you asked him to fuck you.

And then how it finally ended. Simon getting redressed at witching hour because some other tart called him to go over. (your thighs had still been wet from his spend at that time)

So you had called him an unpaid whore; A worthless piece of meat— good for nothing other than cock— and told him that if he leaves, you and he are done.

He had huffed out a laugh, grabbed his motorcycle helmet off your dinner table, and walked out the door without a backward glance.

Johnny hadn't said a word the entire time, but then again, he didn't have to. His countenance said it all.

Disappointment.

He looked so devastatingly disappointed that your eyes welled with tears in seconds and spilled— one fat drop after the other until he pulled you into his arms and held you as you wept, your grief and anguish visceral.

--

"Ye've gotta tell him, bonnie. He has the right to ken."

You let out an aggrieved sigh. Again, with this. "No. He hasn't texted in weeks. Clearly, Simon doesn't give a damn about me. 'Sides, we don't need him when you're around."

A wave of dizzying nausea slams into you, and your world beings to tilt on its axis.

"Don't feel so good, Johnny, I think I need to sit down."

Strong arms catch you as your body crumples and everything goes dark.

--

You rouse from your sleep and find yourself in Johnny's bed with a sharp pounding in your head. Groaning, you turn over to your side and press your fingers into your temples— hoping to alleviate some of the pain when your phone's screen lights up.

Simon's calling.

Goddamnit Johnny. Bloody nosy parker.

You decline it and wait for his text. He's always hated when you ignored his calls on purpose.

And there it is.

Where you ever gonna tell me?

Nothing you need to know about.

No? I thought you were on birth control.

We don't need you.

That mean you're keepin' it?

My baby? Yes, obviously.

Our. Stay at Johnny's, I'm coming over.

No, no. Stay at your girl's house. We'll be just fine without you.

Cute. I'll see you in 10.

(lowkey wondering how he would react if you told him it's johnny's. lol)

[inconsistent-kuroshitsuji-blog]

Can I request Sebastian with a gender neutral s/o (or master) who had a mental breakdown bcs of math and acted like nothing happened infront of him? (I'm gonna lose my mind over math)

My dearie, of course. I know, it has been a while, but now I am here. (That sounded like I'm some sort god-figure.) I'm about 90% sure that I have completely lost my mind over math and have no way of getting it back.

Sebastian comforting you after you lose your mind over your math homework

When the fuck did math get letters? Why does math need letters? Why must it make a problem out of everything? Who cares at what degree a certain angle of a roof of a weird art exhibition is. Why should you care at what height a discoball is located if a laser hits it at a certain angle? And who even thinks of such ridiculous problems?

Advanced education? More like an advanced headache. You've sat here at your desk for about three hours, longer than you planned to. You were just trying to do your homework, but nothing was working out. The numbers didn't add up, you don't even know where to start at. It is all too much, too much at once, you just can't handle it anymore.

Throwing away your pencil, you start sobbing over that darned piece of paper. What is this supposed to teach you? Well, nothing that matters to you, of course, yet you're still forced to keep up with algebra and geometry and analysis, totally useless in your daily life. If only these problems were solvable with tears. The only thing they do for you right now is smudge your already hastily written tasks and solutions. Oh, how you hate this. You can only hate this. How could you ever do anything else-?

Your door opens. What now? Who has come to bother you at your lowest point of the day?

"Is everything alright, my dear?", you hear, yet you don't look up. You don't have to do so to know who is there. You'd recognise his gentle voice in a crowded room full of people who don't know how to properly adjust their voice volume. You also want to save yourself from the embarrassment of him seeing your puffy red eyes. So you only mumble something into your arm, something along the lines of "Maybe, I don't know, leave me alone.".

But he didn't. Of course he didn't leave, he never really does what you tell him to. Just like his beloved cats, Sebastian does what he feels like doing at any given point. So if he wants to physically see your tears for his amusement, he will watch them slowly run down your cheeks. You hear how he places something infront of you.

"If everything truly was alright, you'd show me your beautifull face. So, look up for me.". That snarky bastard. You'd hate him for that if you didn't love him more. So you slowly look up to him, eyes all puffy and swollen. "See? I'm fine.". You finally realised he placed a batch of biscuits infront of you, freshly made of course. Sebastian looks down at you with that smirk he always seems to have on his face. "Well, I don't believe you. You're a bad liar, kitten. What is troubling you?". He doesn't even wait for your answer, he just looks down and responds with a little "Ah.". He saw everything he needed to see.

"Is your scholarship too hard on you again? Or is it you being too hard on yourself?", he asked while sitting down next to you. He seemingly tries to make out what you wrote, but it is simply incomprehensible thanks to your tears. "I told you already, it's nothing. Just some stupid problems. As if I would've brought them to class anyway..."

"Frustrated, are we?". "Shut it...", you deliberately look away, yet he pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your head. "Now, no need to cry over silly made up numbers and problems. Rest your head for now.". Sebastian slightly nudges your head onto his chest. Maybe he's right. You should take a little break, just for now.

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

Phew, finally something fresh on my paige. As you can guess, I'm well and alive, more alive than well but alive nonetheless. I'll see how I can get back on track. But until then, I will fulfill the meaning of my name by disappearing suddenly and reappearing again. Like a little ghost.

Until then~

Your Inconsistent Kuroshitsuji Blog~

[moonshynecybin]

do you have any motogp fic recs?

yeah sure man. im gonna keep it simple (ao3 only) because i am a capricious bookmarker and refuse to wade through the weeds of tumblr fic as im not a natural tagger. no order just vibes. all of these i love and reread !

cant change that, cant change you by kingsquarding

Marc at the ranch for the (second) first time.

this fic is the platonic ideal of marc and vale post reconciliation being TOGETHER and at the RANCH and trying to make it WORK but they are also. still being a little messed up. themes include: guilt. injury. marc trying to get vale to stop treating him like glass and FUCK HIM already because he doesnt want to admit that their relationship/his body has changed since he was twenty. delicious.

Che Spettacolo! by serve_cunt

“What do you think,” Vale says, and leans against the doorframe. “Will he come?�� Uccio stays silent. Of course he will come, he wants to say. In what world does he stay away? In what world can he resist?

sending uccio to the cuck chair. outside POV rosquez always hits for me becuase they match each other's freak in so many ways its fun to see what antics they engage in as obsevered by someone more normal. in this case. uccio. also helps get around vale's shit ass communication because its him through the eyes of someone who KNOWS that vale is being WEIRD. even if marc doesnt. fun and SEXY. academic au by the same author ALSO slays

of crashing and burning (and falling for you) by Anonymous

It has always been Marc and Valentino, Valentino and Marc. Two rivals inseparable on- and off-track throughout their careers, their story so closely intertwined they might as well have been the same person, dominating their beloved sport between the two of them. Then Marc breaks his arm, Vale loses their championship, and they are left trying to pick up the pieces. AKA a rosquez same age AU.

someone wrote out. elle and i's same age au. and it was so perfect i legit struggle to answer asks about this au now because im just like. its in the AU !!! its all here !!! really nails vale in this specific scenario imo... all the love and resentment and self-imposed walls and. my favorite of all. the exact way these guys talk in press conferences. like their exact diction. hits the spot beautifulperfect

arms out like an angel by yekoc

“Does Marc still work here?” he asks. He can’t think of the word for performing. “I dunno, man,” the guy says. “Sorry, I’m new.” Vale blinks at him. “Find out,” he says, and then, annoyed at himself for the impatience, “if you can. I came a long way.”

the efficiency of word choice in terms of characterization in this one really moves me... every line has implications !!! sexy ones even !!! and theres so much baseline CHEMISTRY and inability to really STAY AWAY from each other but also. a tense little undercurrent of slight misunderstanding and hurt that makes it stand out... i also just love fics where marc pushes back just a lil and vale has to like. figure out what to do with that. in a horny way. yekoc's bezzcele also goes crazy if you wanna think about nipple piercings as much as i do

All I Wanted by agnst-crrnt

The first time it happens is just after Marc’s 10th birthday. He’s about to complain to his parents about how Álex always finishes the milk and then puts it back into the fridge, when the faces of his parents’ blur in front of him. Marc closes his eyes, trying to make it better and grabs onto the edge of the table. He can hear his mama ask him if he’s okay, before everything stops. or Rosquez Time Travel Au, where Marc randomly gets teleported through time, always ending up somewhere around Vale

hey thats my friend. rosquez time travel au as ive said my favorite thing to think about maybe EVER !!! really love the strict marc POV on this one and how you REALLY see the. youre in love so you go. and his just. his ceaseless romanticism and optimism wrt to vale and their relationship that fits this fic concept SO well. guest appearances from pedrenzo as well yayyyyy

i give into the fall series by lestelledreams

Her and Pol were good; they did win a gold at Junior Worlds after all, and that’s not something anyone can just go out there and do. But her and Valentino – they could become great. Mar’s never been more sure of anything in her life. or, The first year of Mar's and Vale's partnership.

genderbend figure skating au where marc gets to have all his weird injury complexes explored AND it gets slutty AND we get to see his freak ass ambition. imagine if motogp was a pairs sport (like actually not just in a fake way) and marc had the option of pairing up with vale. imagine how crazy he would go trying to make that happen adfhdflk

a hundred ninety-nine degrees by hardlythewiser (sequinedfairy)

“You should fuck me again,” Bez says. It trips out, all his defenses worn down by the long, annoying day of meetings, by the feeling of Cele above him, pressing him down into the couch, by Cele’s bright clear gaze. Above him, Cele doesn’t smile with his whole face, scrunching up his eyes, like he did the first time Bez asked. He doesn’t smile at all, just keeps looking at Bez. “Really?” he asks. “I didn’t know – did you like it, last time?”

cele tops lets GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. some fics just. have an ability to pierce directly towards what actually and precisely makes a pairing or a situation or a dynamic SEXY, while also revealing a new facet of said dynamic that i've never thought about in depth before. this is one of those. fuck him!!! make him cry !!!! perfect !!!

i was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy (whose reality i knew was hopeless to be had) by babynflames

In Motegi 2005, Hiroshi Aoyama wins his first race during his home GP, Dani Pedrosa gets second while hiding a fractured humerus and Jorge Lorenzo is handed a one race ban for riding in a irresponsible manner after nearly colliding with Dani and causing de Angelis to abandon the race, leaving the third position to Casey Stoner. The haircutting is incidental.

dyke PEDRENZO. fic that is fun and funny and filled to the BRIM with the kind of homoerotic tension you can only have between two teenage dykes in direct competition who dont even know theyre horny about each other except they REALLY kind of do. also. the best sports rpf to me always engages with a sport on a sociological level... also just love the writing style on this. direct and avoidant at the same time. very dani in sexuality crisis to me aljfdhl

[reds-writings]

since you were begging for it and I've been DYING for 2012 Rust content

may I ask for 46. of the fluff prompts? (taking care of them when it's hard for them to do it themselves)

maybe taking place after your last fluff prompt, after fleeing the hospital? or however you wish, I'm sure you will come up with something brilliant:)

thank you darling!

i begged, you asked, and i (hopefully) delivered. hope you enjoy, darlin'! <3

It almost felt like Rust wanted to give you a fatal heart attack once and for all these days. That arduous hospital visit had been enough stress to last you a lifetime but it seemed like he wanted to keep at it with sending you into an early grave due to constant worry. His stubbornness only seemed to have multiplied tenfold after all these years which only meant you’d be earning more pesky greys no thanks to him. 

Given that his mobility was still greatly hindered by his run-in with Childress you insisted time and time again that if he needed something he was to strictly ask you so there’d be no chances of over-exertion or further injury. You even gave him a silly little bell to ring so that you could hear it no matter where you were in the house. 

If only he were actually to put it to some damned use.

It was nearing 3 am when you heard a crash and a loud curse downstairs, followed by a series of pained groans. You had almost broken your neck at the near lightspeed in which you sprang from the bed and bounded down the steps to see what the hell was going on. To no surprise, there lay Rust on the floor a few mere feet from the open fridge with one of the racks dismantled from the inside. He looked like he was about to bust a vein while his greying temples began to bead with sweat as he lay frozen in what you had to guess was profound pain. It wasn’t the first time but you were about to make sure it was the last. 

Trying not to trip over the mess from the fridge, you willed sleep to thaw from your brain as you frantically checked over him for any injuries. Head: okay. Bandages: clean. Appendages: all in one piece. Bruising: you’d probably see by tomorrow if any. He just seemed winded from the sudden movement that agitated his wound in light of his blunder. 

“Reckon you’re wishin’ you used that bell now, hm?” You couldn’t help but snipe as your shaking hands brushed coarse hairs from his face. Rust didn’t –more like couldn’t– reply has he focused on trying to regain his momentum of breathing. The fire in his abdomen had him paralyzed, one move and he was sure to vomit from the sheer pain. Once you figured it had subsided with his body beginning to lose its rigid tension you scooted behind his head to help prop him up. 

“Up you go, hon. C’mon. That’s it-” You gently moved with him, pausing at any signs of discomfort before fully getting him upright. When he made no move of toppling over again you moved back into his line of sight. He purposefully withheld eye contact, the warm light from the fridge painting stark shadows against the harrowed lines of his face. 

“How many times do we have to do this?” You tried after bated silence. Nothing.

“I know how you are, Rustin. If you’ve got some hang-up rooted in self-pity you need to cut it out. You’re here because I want you here. Not because I feel sorry for you or anythin’ else along those lines-”

“You shouldn’t want me here.” The graviliness of his voice broke out in lame protest. So it was gonna be one of those nights. 

“I’d like to think that’s for me to decide. Y’know, what I don’t want is your guts all over my damned floor once you’ve finally busted them stitches open because you’re too prideful to just let me in. Look at me-” Your hand gravitated towards his stubbled jaw to direct his attention to you. Gentle but firm. Those eyes of his were getting increasingly emptier than you’d ever seen them in all the time you’d known him. It was starting to scare you. 

“All the shit that happened is over and done with. We’ve been over it plenty but I don’t mind tellin’ you until it sticks in your thick skull. That was then. We’re here now. I don’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, or the next day, or within the next however many years but you’re back. I want you back. Understand that and stop doubtin’ me on it, alright?” The conviction in which you spoke struck him hard. Your eyes burned into his as if willing the words into his broken soul. He knew you meant it but he still couldn’t fathom how his worthless ass could ever be given a chance like this again to begin with. Maybe he hadn’t woken up from that coma just yet and this was some pathetic dream his mind conjured up in an effort to self-soothe. He didn’t know if it could ever feel real. He didn't know if he could have the nerve to truly accept it as if he'd ever deserve it.

“Ring the fuckin’ bell next time. Or I can haul your ass into my bed so that I can keep a more watchful eye, mister.” You flicked his chin before bringing a second hand to his jaw so that you could press a careful kiss to his hairline. 

Mister. It made his heart stumble. He hadn’t heard it in so long. 

“It woulda been stupid to wake you up for a beer.” Rust cleared his throat. He was tired of feeling so emotional lately. Everything that had transpired had ripped him open deep down to his core. Baring everything he’d worked so hard to maintain and hide for what felt like ages. In true fashion, though, none of it had made you budge an inch. 

“More stupid than makin’ a mess of my fridge and bustin’ your ass again in the proccess? Sure.” You snorted before putting everything back in its place and shutting the door. After helping him up you grabbed him a glass of water as a sad replacement to what he craved. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you oughta not drink while your intestines are in the middle of getting back in shape. Sorry, champ.” You shrugged in poorly hidden mirth and he had no room to argue. Having you get close to move under his arm and support him as you went back to his room made up for it enough. Especially when you wordlessly made space for yourself snug by his side once he got back into bed. 

It was all done to keep a more watchful eye of course. 

[spaciebabie]

any advice 4 when u want to keep drawing 2 improve but u cant get over perfectionism ? like when u just dont care how its gonna turn out, if its bad its bad yknow?

ahh yes lowkey ive struggled with this a lot. not as much now as in the past tho, and honestly its beecuz ive developed a more neutral view on myself/my art in general. its going to take time to get to this state of mind, so dont be too hard on yourself when you find yourself falling into bad habits.

advice under the cut (kind of long winded) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

the first thing ive done to overcome perfectionism is focus less on details and more about overall shape and form. when i sketch im trying to get roughly what i want, and i limit the strokes i do in certain parts of my sketch to like 1-3 depending on what im drawing (im ngl i also am very impatient and have created a workflow that makes it so i am able to start and finish pieces as fast as possible LOLOLOL. shrugs. i just like drawing fast).

a good example would be this thing i just drew:

in all of my sketches i tend to use as few strokes as possible and just get the basic idea down. good for not overly focusing on teeny tiny details and worrying about them later (i also use the same technique for lineart, but just end up connecting the lines. thats another tip i have, if you like your sketches more than your fully lined pieces, just line the same way you sketch! or you could also use your sketch as your lineart :P)

another tip i have is to draw from references, and once again, focus mostly on shape/form/the big picture of your subject before going into details (do you know how many planes there are on the human face....i still dont know howta draw faces properly but im not mad at myself anymore about it, i just open up a reference and try to learn). i also recommend having a drawing session where the goal is to draw awfully. draw something you want to draw, but that you're not sure if you'll draw it right, and draw it. dont try to correct it, acknowledge that what you made isnt perfect, and then draw something else. you're learning! of course its not gonna be perfect. but inevitably, you're going to get frustrated. just remember if its something you really want to go back to, you will be able to revisit it in the future. feel your anger and frustration, but do your best to not direct it inward.

small side tangent about shading- I AM SO SHIT AT SHADING SKFHSAFDJHS. people dont tend to notice (surprising), since ig my shading style is considered "beautiful" or something, but if you looked at it on a technical level, there are mistakes everywhere. i havent really tried to improve it. i dont really care most of the time b/c i just like shading for fun. and especially when im shading my sketches, i already have it in my mind that its not supposed to be perfect. its a sketch. this is where im supposed to make all of my mistakes. once i start making my way to the final product is when i start worrying more about if i did the lighting correctly (even then ik im not good at it im not trying to be a god im just trying to draw things that make me happy).

additionally, i really rec u dont try and fudge a sketch until its better if you're deep in a Perfectionist moment. keep the old sketch and start over on a new sketch taking bits and pieces you liked from the original, and improving on those that you dont (shitty thumbnails are also good if you have a vague idea in mind but need ta figure out howta place subjects in your scene). honestly drawing the same thing/idea over and over gets me a better understanding of my subject each time, so naturally each iteration looks better. it doesnt take me that long to sketch tho, so if sketching takes you forever (sometimes if sketching takes you forever its b/c you're a perfectionist skjfskdjf) just think about how much time you're willing to spend on something. remember☝️ its okay to give up/take a break on something and try again later. sometimes you just needta stop looking at your art and like. look at a tree or something lmfao.

i will also say that im not looking to go into a career in art, im more of a hobbyist. ik school environments dont exactly.....help with perfectionism lol. there are certain expectations put on people who go into the art field that are inescapable. if this is the case for you, i still think what ive discussed before can help you, but i also think that you may need to lean more on the mental tips i have also provided below.

alright! mental health tips in regard to art:

so, i have c-ptsd, and with that comes a lot of self image issues that ive had to work on. my feelings about myself extended to the way i felt about my art. it was shit, it was awful, i cant draw like this other person can so why bother, if its not perfect i shouldnt draw at all, etc. and honestly, something thats helped is affirmations. my affirmations are c-ptsd related, but ive noticed a shift in the way i view myself, and by extent, my art since ive started repeating them to myself daily. and honestly, i think a requirement of overcoming perfectionism is telling yourself that your art doesnt hafta be perfect, A LOT. LOL. LIKE YOU ACTUALLY HAFTA ACTIVELY TELL YOURSELF YOU'RE NOT AWFUL LMAOOOO. its funny, we dont think much about how we naturally are self critical about ourselves, and we dont realize that we are basically repeating negative affirmations about ourselves over and over and thats why we're not improving (mentally).

even when you're not drawing, i think it would benefit some people to have some kind of notification on their phone to remind them to tell themselves that their art doesnt hafta be perfect daily/however often you feel you might need it. and then with that affirmation, practice Shitty Drawing. one of the best tips ive ever gotten for this was from one of my friends monnie. get out your sketchbook or some printer paper, take out a shitty pen, and DRAW. and then any mistakes you make are permanent and you cant just endlessly try and fix them. it forces you ta sit with this uncomfortable feeling that something you made isnt perfect. eventually your brain will realize that when your art isnt perfect, you can still draw and you're ALLOWED to continue to draw even if what you make isnt spectacular. if you dont want to repeat an affirmation daily, try to remember to at least repeat it before you sit down to draw. something along the lines of "my art doesnt hafta be perfect in order for me to want to draw. im allowed to draw even if its not perfect" or something else. it depends on what you most struggle with in regards to your perfectionism. im ngl its probably going to feel cringe at first, but i promise you, it really works if you put it into practice longterm.

shoot for neutrality instead of positivity first. let me tell you thats where i am now and its so much less exhausting drawing lmfaooo. i make something that looks like shit and im just like. i dont fucking careee i dont give a fuccckkkkk

those are my tips :] i hope this was helpful!

[thecoffeelorian]

Writing Test Run...

//...I would like, if possible, to get a slight peek into others' interests and preferences when writing a short story about vampires/Midwestern Gothic/minor pandemic horror, so.

Here is one rough draft of my short story's introduction, of which I hope you will rate in the poll below for my research purposes.

Thank you.//

Okay, first things first—I’m not gonna bite anybody as soon as I meet them. Not only is that the calling card of the Old Carpathians, but I also don’t share their ideology thanks to my beliefs being a lot more complex than mere “vamp supremacy”. So, if you can remember to keep from putting my name into any sentences with those nutjobs as the subject, I’d really appreciate it. Especially in the days to come. Second, by now, you’ve probably heard all of the stories about recent events, both the ones containing cold hard facts and the ones more along the lines of anti-social media rants. As I don’t exactly host my own conspiracy-theory laden podcast or support a single person who does, I’m not gonna give a shred of legitimacy to the stories that sound a lot more like tabloid fodder, let alone a lot less than actual news bulletins. Those are total bunk no matter what those Mortals insist upon, so I won’t think about them one moment longer. What I will do, however, is recall as many facts as I can so that others don’t have a problem figuring out what’s true and what’s false... so here goes. Yes, there was a virus that affected the clotting factor of the average person’s bloodstream, because not only is that same virus still ongoing as I write this, but I was also one of those previously infected. I can also say that yes, a high percentage of the global population—namely, an estimated 66.7% of all humans from 0-99 years of age—passed away from it before any significant research about treatments or cures could begin. We will mourn their loss, but not without celebrating their lives. For the ones still alive, however, I have this to say—no, not only are the Vampires among us NOT spreading this virus by feeding on the human race, but as of this day forward, any and all members of the First Communal Hall are hereby off limits to any dumbass looking to make a name for himself by trying to hunt them down. I say this because we’re currently working on vaccine development in a few secured locations in order to stop this thing in its tracks, so if you don’t want a front-row seat to the collapse of society, please remain calm, keep your weapons in storage, and kindly allow us to do our jobs. If you’re going to keep on being foolish, on the other hand, and have already decided to stir up a little trouble for whatever reason you've cooked up in your brain—let me say this. I’ve just learned how to defend myself, as well as my immediate social circle. I’ve also just learned how another person can be found dead in an alley with what will easily be written off as “normal animal bites” as their official cause of death. And if it ever comes down to having to act as a piece of toothy life insurance against anybody who comes after me and mine, please be warned in advance: You try to sink any of your teeth into me, be they long or short, I will not hesitate to do the same to you. After all, once a certain handful Vampires decided to band together and use a little of their own blood as an experimental treatment against this virus...something really interesting happened to me. I became one.

[battiegutz]

AUTISM TIME

ok so i got a few of the blind box gen7 pets today and i originally i was only gonna use one for a custom but im considering customizing all of them and infact im going to do a full review below

disclaimer: i am giving an honest review of these. my wording might appear harsh or whiny at some points but i am just trying to honestly review them. i am still very happy that lps are returning to these molds. also pls keep in mind that i dont currently have any authetic gen2 lps to compare them to rn, so my comparison is mostly based off my memory of them and the bases i have that are modeled after them

okay im gonna seperate this into categories bc i love lists im list boy. nvm dont call me that. ok

Appearance&design: even from first glance you can tell these are different than gen2, the og. the colors are way more saturated and dont get me wrong i love bright colors but for example the spaniel and ox? bull? both have "nuetral" colors aka brown in this case, but theyre very saturated to the point that both just look orange and its not very appealing at all. the caterpillar is ok, the green isnt too loud and pairs well with the yellow, and the otter's pastel pink isnt too bad either. however. a thing with these new lps is instead of the personality eye shines they can have personality markings on them. now this isnt necessarily a bad idea, and i can see it being quite cute is done well, but unfortunately this idea is not well executed. the markings look slapped on and out of place and because theyre only on certain pets it looks especially strange. on top of that, the paint job on these is not the greatest. i wouldnt normally be so critical of this, but considering everything else wrong with them, well. anyway. there are scuff? and paint marks on quite a few spots on all figures, though the otter seems the least blemished. the worst offender of a bad paint job is the ox. the muzzle is a splotchy and uneven attempt to call back to the airbrushed markings of old and the paint around his horns and hair is wildly uneven. not to mention how his hooves are not a different color than the rest of his body, which looks especially strange with the stark white horns. additionally, whatever sealant or plastic or whatever they used for the bulls hair feels greasy somehow? the mold for the ox is very cute tho :3 the color difference between the head and body on them isnt that bad, and can easily be overlooked, though it is worst on the caterpillar. the designs overall could be improved with at least some of the pets having more grounded colors and reworking the personality markings, maybe something like a small star on the bottom of a foot or a little cheek mark? ive spent enough time in this section lets move on

Quality: it is immediately obvious these are made of worse material than gen2. this is a problem in all modern toys though, so i dont particularly blame them for it. however, the ox head is bad. while all the toys seem to have a bit of give to the heads theyre not super squishy. the ox head is. because of how squishy the head is, it seems his nose bridge is caving in? it looks indented is what im saying. the texture of them isnt too bad but they feel noticeably worse than even my fake base ones i bought (shoutout to CustomLShop on ebay, the bases arrived super fast and were in excellent condition aswell as very nice packaging with even some bonus stickers :3) the caterpillars antennae are a little too flexible, im worried they might snap. there are very visible lines on the spaniel and the ox where the body mustve been in multiple pieces before being assembled. another thing is that while the heads do bobble mostly fine, they have a lot of trouble turning, theres resistance if even tilt the head, and it feels very strange. once again the otter seems to be the highest quality out of the ones i got, but it still has the same problems.

Price: i get that everything is expensive these days, but i feel it wouldve been more fair based on the quality if the individual boxes were around 2 dollars instead. it wouldve also been nice it there was a deal if you got the whole box set. also it seems that employees have been throwing away the bonus pet in the box when the box is empty of blind boxes, which is a shame because the bonus pet is a nice idea, but i think its not a great idea to have her on the box for the blind boxes as people are a majority of the time buying only a few individual boxes, so she gets left there as she looks like shes just part of the display

Final verdict: if you love lps or just arent concerned abt minor quality changes, go ahead and get em!! there are many problems with these but theyre still very cute and its awesome to see them coming back in the style i remember from my childhood :3

ok my energy is dwindling bc we also went grocery shopping (sensory overload city). i think? i covered everything i wanted to so. yea :3 lmk ur thoughts btw nd would also love to hear frm ppl who have also bought th blind boxes and your thoughts on them

also as far as customizing them i think ill stick to just repaints of them to preserve their design atleast a bit :3 tho th spaniel is an exception i hav big plans fr her lol

[aller-geez]

Snow Daze (part 4)

written & illustrated by- allergeez

(If you missed any previous parts, you can find ‘em here! Part 1, Part 2, & Part 3)

It really should be taking so much longer than this for yet ANOTHER chapter to be done, let alone another 6.4k words, but this fic has been so much fun to write, I can’t stop 😅. Anyway, here’s part four, with sneezes from all four of them as they all inevitably caught Vee’s cold, even Rex helping Kriia blow her nose~. What will become of our beloved toad biscuit without the album finished? Read to find out~

Hoping to wrap this fic up with the next and final chapter so be ready for some angsty piece after this 😅

The room was heavy with the sluggish quiet of exhaustion, the low hum of the television blending with the soft crackling of the fireplace. Kriia and Rexar were tangled together on the couch, fast asleep, their quiet sniffling and occasional sleepy murmurs the only signs of life from them. The remnants of the snowstorm outside painted shifting shadows across the walls, flickering in and out of existence with every gust of wind against the windows.

Vaelyn, despite looking like absolute death, sat hunched in the far corner of the bed, his guitar resting lazily against his lap. His fingers idly plucked out a half-formed melody, something slow and aimless, the notes drifting into the air like the steam from the half-finished tea on the nightstand. His notebook lay open beside him, filled with scribbled-out lines and abandoned lyrics, none of them quite right.

Kalypso, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, watched him with her usual mix of amusement and exasperation. "So, what’s the game plan here, rockstar?" she asked, her voice dry but not unkind. "Gonna stare at that page until inspiration physically manifests, or are we actually brainstorming?"

Vaelyn sniffled, dragging a sleeve under his nose before glancing up at her with tired, bloodshot eyes. "I’b thigkig," he rasped.

Kalypso smirked. "Uh-huh. And?"

Vaelyn sighed, strumming a few more chords, then muttered, "And I got dothid’."

Kalypso chuckled, shaking her head. "Hopeless. Truly."

But instead of her usual snide teasing, she scooted a little closer, tucking a pillow under her arms as she leaned forward. "Alright, let’s figure it out, then."

And, against all odds, Vaelyn found himself actually wanting to.

The lion tapped a lazy rhythm against the body of his guitar, squinting down at his notebook like it had personally offended him. “Alright, so whad are we thigkig? Love sog? Existential dread? Somethig about beig sick and biserable and trapped in a hellish winder lodge with you?”

Kalypso scoffed, adjusting her position on the bed so she could face him better. “First of all, you are the reason everyone is sick and miserable, so don’t even start. Second—why would I help you write a song when you have lyrics like, ‘Love’s like a vending machine at 3 AM—looks promising, but it just eats your last dollar instead’ already scribbled in there?”

“Hey,” Vaelyn sniffled, flipping a page dramatically. “That’s real poetry. A bedaphor. A social codbetary on bodern relatioships. You would’d get id.”

Kalypso rolled her eye. “Okay, Edgar Allan Sneeze, let’s try something that won’t make the entire band quit on the spot.”

Vaelyn opened his mouth to retort, but his breath caught sharply instead. His lashes fluttered, nostrils twitching as his head tilted back slightly. He inhaled shakily—

And then nothing. The sneeze backed off, leaving him blinking, dazed, and deeply unsatisfied. “Ugh. I hate thad.”

Kalypso smirked. “I love that.”

Vaelyn shot her a glare, rubbing aggressively at his nose with the back of his wrist. “Evil.”

“And yet you still want my help.” Kalypso grinned, but then her eye flicked down to where his abandoned notebook sat open on the bed.

Vaelyn, still distracted by the lingering tickle in his sinuses, didn’t notice when she casually leaned forward.

Didn’t notice when she glanced at the half-written lyrics staring up at her.

Didn’t notice when, with a quick swipe, Kalypso snatched the notebook right out from under him.

Vaelyn’s breath hitched again—then abruptly stopped again—and by the time he refocused, Kalypso was already leaning way back, grinning like a fox with stolen prey.

“KAL.”

She flipped open the first page dramatically. “Ohhh, what’s this?”

Vaelyn dove for it, but Kalypso, with infuriating ease, dodged out of his reach, already thumbing through the pages.

“If I find even one rhyming couplet about your tragic little cold—"

"Give id back!” Vaelyn rasped, lunging again.

"Not a chance." Kalypso smirked, turning another page. “Let’s see what embarrassing lyrical genius you’ve got hidden in here.”

He pushed up onto his knees, ready to reclaim his dignity (and his notebook), but she only held it further out of reach, thumbing through his messy handwriting.

She read a few lines aloud, chuckling at some of the more questionable lyrics he’d crossed out. "‘You set my soul on fire, but not in the cool way—' Vaelyn. What the fuck?"

"Look, id was lade, I was delirious, and I was drunk od NyQuil," Vaelyn grumbled, flopping back onto the bed with a heavy sigh. "Dot all of us are lyrical gediuses all the tibe."

Kalypso snorted but kept flipping. "‘Love is like a mosh pit—cool until you get punched in the face’—honestly? Not your worst."

"Cad you dot?" Vaelyn groaned, rubbing his face.

But then, Kalypso turned one more page and stilled. Her smirk faltered as her eye skimmed over the hastily written words—lyrics very different from the rest.

She read them out loud, but this time, her voice had lost its teasing edge. "‘Every sharp word leaves another scar, but I can’t tell which ones are yours and which ones are mine...'"

The room felt a little too quiet now. Vaelyn shifted uncomfortably, watching her reaction through fevered, half-lidded eyes.

Kalypso didn’t look at him immediately. Instead, she stared at the words for a beat longer before finally glancing up, her voice quieter than before. "This was about last night, wasn’t it?"

Vaelyn hesitated. He could lie. Brush it off, make some sarcastic comment. But for some reason—maybe the fever, maybe the sheer exhaustion—he just exhaled and said, "Yeah."

Kalypso’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the notebook, like she was weighing a response, but in the end, she just let out a quiet sigh and tossed it back to him. "Here."

Vaelyn caught it, sitting up just enough to pull it against his chest. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. But for a second, the air between them felt different.

Before either of them could address it, the rustling of blankets from across the room signaled that their couch-bound companions were waking up.

Kriia stretched with a quiet groan, pressing her face into Rexar’s chest just as her breath hitched. "Hh’tchhh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch! k’gnsh! N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx!"

Rexar, still half-asleep, let out a raspy chuckle, his voice thick with congestion as he kissed the top of her head. "Bless you, pridcess," he murmured with a lazy smile. "Such a dice way to wake up frob a nap~"

Vaelyn, desperate to move the attention away from himself, seized the opportunity. "If I did thad to Kal, I’d be throwd off of a building."

Kalypso, as if on cue, shot him a deadpan look. "That can still be arranged."

Rexar snickered. "You two flirtigg or threatedigg each other? ‘Cause with you guys, it’s ki’dda the sabe thigg."

Vaelyn groaned and flopped back onto the pillows. "Kill be."

Kalypso smirked. "Nah. Too easy."

Rexar groggily lifted his head from where it rested against Kriia’s, blinking blearily at Vaelyn as he took in the sight of the guitarist with his instrument in hand. With great effort, he pushed himself upright, careful not to jostle Kriia too much as she rubbed furiously at her nose, coughing softly into her sleeve.

“Heyyy, look at you!” Rexar rasped, his voice thick and sluggish with congestion. He sniffled hard, the sound rough and waterlogged. “What, idspiratiod fidally decide to strike?”

Kriia cracked open one purple eye, barely mustering the energy to glance in Vaelyn’s direction before groaning and burying her face into Rexar’s chest. “Lebbie hear whatcha got!” Rexar encouraged, his usual enthusiasm dampened by fever but still present.

Kriia let out a long, suffering sigh. “You guyssss…” she whined, her words thick and rounded out. “We agreed to pud a pause od sodgwritigg while we’re here… I dod’t have it id be to haddle you guys fightigg right dow…” She pouted, her already exhausted expression looking even more pitiful, framed by dark blue shadows under her eyes.

Vaelyn let out a quiet sigh, scratching the back of his head. He looked almost guilty, his lips twitching downward. “Yeah, yeah, dod’t worry about id,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and raw. “Id’s dot like I’b gettig adywhere with id, adyway.”

The words had barely left his mouth before his expression shifted, his breath catching sharply. His brows furrowed, lips parting as his body froze in anticipation. Rexar and Kriia, long accustomed to Vaelyn’s theatrics when it came to sneezing, barely reacted—until, of course, the inevitable fit exploded out of him.

“Hh’EISHhh! hh’ISSHHh! Ehh’tSSHhh-! …hehh—hh’EEIISSHHHuhh!!”

The force rocked his entire frame forward, sending his guitar vibrating against his leg as he barely managed to direct the fit into his elbow. By the time the last sneeze tore out of him, he was left breathless, shoulders trembling slightly as he sniffled and groaned.

Rexar wrinkled his nose and gave another thick sniffle of his own, mumbling, “Bless you, bro… You sou’d like absolute trash.”

Vaelyn, still blinking dazedly, waved a hand before sniffling again. “Yeah, yeah, I feel abazing, thagks for askigg,” he deadpanned. “And to top id all off, I still cad’t cub up with adythigg thad flows.”

Kalypso, who had been silently watching from her spot on the bed, smirked. “Damn. Guess this is the end for Toad Biscuit, huh?” She shot him a teasing look. “Tragic. Our beloved lyricist, his brain melted away by fever.” She clutched her chest in mock despair.

Vaelyn scowled at her, already preparing a comeback, but before he could open his mouth, Kalypso’s teasing expression suddenly faltered. Her breath caught, lips parting slightly as her shoulders twitched forward just the tiniest bit before—nothing.

She groaned, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose as frustration crossed her face.

Vaelyn immediately burst out laughing. “Ohhh, dot agaid—”

Kalypso shot him a glare, sniffling sharply. “Shut up.”

But Vaelyn was grinning now, delighting in her misery. “Oh, cobe od, just let id out!” he taunted, his voice still raspy but undeniably amused. He wiggled his fingers mockingly in her direction. “Oh wait—you cad’t.”

Kalypso let out a strangled noise of frustration, rubbing aggressively at her nose as the tickle refused to go anywhere. “You are so insufferable,” she growled, voice thick and marshy.

Vaelyn shrugged, smug as ever despite how utterly wrecked he looked. “What cad I say? I thrive id your sufferigg.”

Kriia and Rexar exchanged a long, knowing look—the kind that screamed, Yeah, this checks out. Before either of them could voice their shared exasperation, Kriia’s stomach let out an obnoxiously loud growl. She scowled, pulling her hood further over her head as if that would somehow muffle the humiliating sound.

“Ughhh,” she whined, curling further into Rexar’s lap. “I’b starvigg…”

A chorus of agreement followed. Even Vaelyn, who had spent most of the morning insisting he couldn’t stomach food, gave a weak nod of concession.

With a breathy chuckle, Rexar fished his phone from his pocket, squinting at the screen through fever-bright eyes. He sniffled wetly, knuckling at his nose with a miserable little grunt before announcing, “Well, id looks like we bissed breakfast id the lobby…”

His stomach responded with its own low, hungry protest.

Vaelyn cleared his throat and rubbed a tired hand under his nose, sniffling thickly as he set his guitar—affectionately referred to as Michelle—to the side of the bed. “Roob service?” he suggested, his voice wrecked with congestion.

Kalypso, still caught in a seemingly endless battle with an infuriatingly stubborn tickle in her sinuses, didn’t trust herself to speak right away. She swallowed thickly, nostrils twitching, and waved a vague hand of agreement.

“I mead, ad this poidt, what other optiod do we have?” Kriia muttered, rubbing furiously at her nose with her sleeve.

“Yeah, yeah, okay—so what are we orderigg?” Rexar asked, scrolling through the digital menu. “Because if I dod’t eat sobethigg id the dext ted bidutes, I’b godda start gndawigg od Vee’s armb.”

Vaelyn, visibly unimpressed, opened his mouth to respond, only for a sharp inhale to cut him off. His expression crumpled, brows drawing together as his breath hitched erratically. He lifted a hand but barely got his wrist up in time before a desperate fit tore through him.

“Hh’EISHhh! ISHHHuh! hh’IIESHHH'uhhh! —Shhh! —shh! —hhehhHH! hhh’ESSHHH!!”

Each sneeze snapped him forward, leaving him momentarily dazed. He sniffled hard, a miserable, irritated sound, and groaned. “Fuhhck… I hate this…”

Kalypso, in a rare moment of actual sympathy, reached over and swatted a tissue box toward him. “Try not to die before the food gets here,” she snarked, rubbing at her own nose as the stubborn tickle resurfaced with vengeance.

Rexar hummed, scrolling further. “Alright, well, we bissed breakfast, but there’s ad all-day menu.”

“What’s the bost expedsive thigg od id?” Vaelyn asked, voice still hoarse but carrying a hint of amusement

Rexar smirked. “Why? You pladding od flexigg your dad’s credit card?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Vee sniffled again and swiped a tissue under his nose. “Godda bake sure you peasadts eat well.”

That was all the encouragement they needed. What started as a simple food order spiraled quickly into an absurdly competitive contest between Rexar and Vee, each one determined to outdo the other in sheer gluttony. Burgers, steaks, seafood platters, pasta—every other sentence was, “Oh, well if you’re gettig thad, I’b gettig this.”

Kalypso, fed up with their antics, rolled her eye and interrupted, “If we’re doing this, we’re also getting a bottle of something strong, because there is no way I’m making it through the rest of the day sober. We check out tomorrow, might as well go out with a bang.”

Vaelyn grinned, half-delirious from fever and exhaustion, but still unable to resist an opportunity to be dramatic. “Oh, dod’t worry, darligg,” he drawled, tapping at the screen until he found what he was looking for. “We’re dot just gettigg a bottle.” He turned the phone toward them, revealing the most expensive item on the menu—a bottle worth a couple thousand dollars.

Kalypso’s expression went from skeptical to amused in an instant. “You’re actually insane.”

Kriia groaned. “You two are the worst.”

The moment the order was placed, Vaelyn barely had time to gloat before his breath hitched again, his shoulders drawing tight. He turned hastily away, but the sneezes came too fast for him to fully brace.

“Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! ……………… hh—huhhh—hh’EEIISSHHhh’uhh!”

Kalypso smirked. “See, this is why you don’t get a say in anything right now.”

Vaelyn, still sniffling, shot her a tired glare. “And yet,” he rasped smugly, “here we are. With ad overpriced bottle of booze comigg. You’re welcobe.”

The knock at the door barely registered over the fevered haze hanging thick in the room. Rexar groaned, peeling himself from the couch with a rough sniffle, careful not to jostle Kriia too much as she mumbled something unintelligible into his chest. He dragged himself toward the door, rubbing at one sleep-heavy eye before swinging it open—only to be met with an entire fleet of resort staff lined up in the hallway, carts of food stretching as far as his foggy brain could process.

There was a brief pause. The bellhop in charge, a well-dressed young man who clearly had not been expecting to deliver an entire banquet to what looked like the aftermath of a plague ward, hesitated. His gaze flickered over Rexar—disheveled, red-eyed, and sniffling—and then down to the order ticket in his hand, as if reconsidering whether he had the right room.

Rexar smirked, rubbing at his nose. “Doh, thad’s correct,” he confirmed, voice thick with congestion. “All of thad is comigg id here.”

The staff exchanged glances, but they were professionals. Within seconds, they moved into an organized shuffle, carting in tray after tray of food. The bellhop began listing off each item, but Rexar was only half-listening, his focus shifting to the dull, prickling itch creeping up the bridge of his nose. It had been teasing him since he’d gotten up, but now, with all the movement and the mingling scents of food wafting through the air, the tickle flared to life with a vengeance.

“Sir, we have the Wagyu sliders, the seafood tower, two orders of filet mignon—”

Rexar nodded along, his breath starting to hitch. “Yuhh-huh, good choices…” His nostrils flared, eyes fluttering as his jaw went slack. “HhHh'—hH’KXTSCHhhOO!! Hh’ESSHHH’iUE!!—et’CHXIEW!!”

A burst of heat flared from his mouth and nose, casting flickering light across the room for a brief second before the flames fizzled harmlessly into the air. The bellhops collectively froze, one letting out a very startled noise of alarm.

Rexar sniffled thickly and let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bless be,” he muttered, voice hoarse with embarrassment. “Uh, sorry ‘bout thad—occupatiodal hazard.”

The staff hesitated for a beat before cautiously resuming their work, stepping around him as they wheeled in the remaining carts.

As the sheer volume of food continued to pile up before them, Kriia and Kalypso’s jaws simultaneously dropped.

“Oh by god,” Kriia croaked, staring at the spread like it had personally betrayed her.

Kalypso let out a low whistle. “We ordered this much?”

Rexar and Vaelyn exchanged smug glances, neither looking even remotely apologetic.

“Hey, we were hudgry,” Vaelyn sniffed, reaching for a tissue with a dramatic flourish.

Just as the last cart rolled in, one of the bellhops produced the crown jewel of the order—the absurdly expensive bottle of liquor. The second it was in sight, Kalypso was on her feet, snatching it from the man’s hands with an almost feral possessiveness.

“That one’s mine,” she announced, cradling it like a prized treasure.

Vaelyn snorted, reaching for the nearest fork. “Whadever helps you sleep ad dight, babydoll.”

The last of the resort staff made a very hasty retreat, the lead bellhop forcing a polite smile as he backed toward the door. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call,” he said, his tone a little too eager to wrap this interaction up. The moment the door shut behind them, the sound of muffled, hurried footsteps disappearing down the hall was unmistakable.

Not even a second later, both Rexar and Kriia pitched forward simultaneously, sucked into their own sneezing fits like some kind of synchronized misery performance.

“Hh’KXSSHhh! Hh’KZSSH’ue! Hhh’IXTSSHHuhh—!”

“K’tch! Nkch! Hh’gschhh—! Hh'nNGXt! Hh—n’gtx!”

The air was briefly filled with flickering embers from Rexar’s nose and muffled, breathy squeaks from Kriia’s stifles, the two of them rendered completely useless for a good fifteen seconds as they sneezed themselves dizzy. When the storm finally passed, they both groggily muttered, “Bless you,” at the same time, causing them to glance at each other and chuckle breathlessly.

“Oh by god,” Kriia rasped, sniffling into her sleeve. “Why are we like this?”

Rexar flopped back onto the couch, rubbing at his nose with a half-hearted groan. “Id’s Vaelyd’s fault,” he grumbled, waving vaguely in the sickly lyricist’s direction.

Vee, mid-sniffle, rolled his eyes but was too congested to bother defending himself.

With the fits finally over, all four of them crowded around the tables like absolute feral animals, the fever-haze of hunger overriding any and all semblance of etiquette. Two entrees each were chosen with lightning speed before they all retreated to their respective spots—Kalypso and Vee back to the bed, Rexar and Kriia on the couch, nestled under the thickest blankets they could find.

Kalypso, before even bothering to dig into her meal, grabbed the extravagant bottle of alcohol, lifting it slightly to inspect the label. The script was unfamiliar, intricate and elegant, with an emblem that looked like it belonged in a museum.

“Damn,” she mused, tilting the bottle. “This looks fancy.”

Without further thought, she cracked the seal, lifted it to her lips, and took a long, determined gulp, the expensive liquor burning its way down her throat. She smacked her lips afterward, brows furrowing in slight disappointment.

“Hmmm… doesn’t taste fancy,” she muttered.

Vaelyn, chewing his steak with his mouth half open (through absolutely zero fault of his own—he simply could not breathe), lifted an eyebrow. “Lebbie try.”

Kalypso, with a shrug, wiped her mouth and nose on her sleeve before handing over the bottle. Vaelyn took it without hesitation, because really, at this point? Germs were absolutely a lost cause.

The lion turned the bottle over in his hands, eyes scanning the intricate, foreign script on the label as he mumbled an attempt at pronunciation under his breath. Whatever language it was, he butchered it beyond recognition.

Kalypso snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how you say it.”

Vee shot her a deadpan look before flipping the bottle back around. “What eved is this? Whiskey?” He squinted at the deep amber liquid inside, then gave a dismissive shrug before tilting it back and taking a long swig.

The alcohol burned its way down his throat, but he barely grimaced, more focused on the fact that it barely had any taste. His brows furrowed, and he pulled the bottle back to examine it again, frustration creeping into his congested voice.

“Ugh—why does this just taste like whiskey?” he grumbled, turning to Kalypso with a sigh. “I spedt—” He cut himself off, realizing that saying exactly how much he’d spent in front of Rexar was maybe not the best move. “—a lot od this bottle, ad it just tastes like every other whiskey I’ve had.”

Rexar, sprawled lazily across the couch, rolled his eyes. “You’re sick, dubass. Of course you cad’t taste id.”

“Still,” Vaelyn muttered, slumping back against the headboard with an exaggerated sigh.

Rexar pushed himself up with a sniffle, rubbing a hand over his face. “Lebbe try.” He held out his hand, and Vee tossed him the bottle without protest.

Rexar took a deep swig, letting the alcohol burn its way down before exhaling what he could through his nose. His expression remained mostly neutral as he smacked his lips.

“Strodg,” he adbitted with a sniffle, “but id’s fide.” He shrugged and handed the bottle off to Kriia.

She sighed in defeat, her shoulders sagging as she took it from him. “This is a terrible idea…” she muttered, but still, she lifted the bottle with an anticipatory deep inhale.

Tipping it back, she took a slow swallow—then immediately dissolved into a harsh, spluttering coughing fit.

“Shhhit, thad’s strodg,” she wheezed between desperate coughs, her voice cracking.

Kalypso rolled her eye, unimpressed, and held out her hand toward Rexar. “Give it here,” she demanded, wiggling her fingers impatiently.

With a smirk, Rex tossed the bottle back to her. “Kdock yourself out.”

The room quickly descended into a feverish, congested mess as the four of them dug into their meals like wild animals, barely pausing for conversation between sniffles, coughs, and the occasional muttered curse at their shared misery. Plates clattered as they picked through their entrees, forks scraping against ceramic while steam curled from untouched side dishes, the warmth of the food offering some fleeting comfort against their aching bodies.

Kalypso and Vaelyn, seated together on the bed, passed the expensive bottle of alcohol back and forth like it was the only thing keeping them tethered to reality. Vaelyn took a long swig before handing it off, sniffling roughly and rubbing at his nose with his wrist. "Ugh… I cad barely taste this," he grumbled, his voice hoarse and thick with congestion.

Kalypso scoffed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before taking a deep gulp. "That’s probably a you problem," she retorted, setting the bottle down with a dull thunk.

Before Vaelyn could shoot back a response, his breath hitched sharply, and he barely had time to twist away from the food before he was sent lurching forward into his sleeve.

“Hhh-hhh—Eishh! Ishh! Ish! ’shh! …hehhHH! -EEIISSHHuhh!”

The force nearly rocked him off balance, leaving him blinking dazedly as he sniffled, rubbing at his nose with a tired groan. Kalypso made a disgusted noise, reaching for the bottle and taking another drink, as if the alcohol could somehow sanitize the air.

Across the room, Kriia had barely managed two bites of her food before her face slackened, brows pinching together as she hovered a hand just in front of her nose. "Hh’hh—nNCHt!—Nkch!—Ktchh!—hhh’gschh!! Hhh-hh! Hhhihh—!"

Still curled up on Rexar’s lap, Kriia sniffled weakly, her nose twitching miserably as she scrubbed at it with the sleeve of her hoodie. No matter how much she rubbed, the itch remained, teasing her with the promise of another fit that refused to fully manifest. Her breath hitched again—soft, uneven little gasps that barely brought her any relief. She whimpered softly in frustration, her purple eyes glassy and unfocused with fever.

“Ughhh… stuck…” she mumbled, her voice small and congested as she pressed a few fingers under her nose in a feeble attempt to fight it off.

Rexar, ever the attentive partner, reached for the tissue box on the nightstand, yanking out a few and folding them neatly before instinctively bringing them up to her face. He pinched them gently between his fingers, holding them just over her irritated nose.

“C’bod, baby girl,” he coaxed, his voice low and warm, edged with amusement. “Just blow for be, yeah?”

Kriia shot him a tired look—one that might’ve said normally, I’d be mortified, but right now, she was too exhausted to care. With a resigned sniffle, she leaned into his touch, blowing her nose into the tissues as Rexar held them steady. The thick, marshy sound was evidence enough of just how stuffed up she was, but before she could even sigh in relief, the sudden force only aggravated the persistent tickle.

Her expression crumpled, brows drawing together as her breath caught in her throat. The second fit crashed into her without warning.

“Hh’Nkchh! Nngt! Hh’tchh! Ktchh’uhh! Hh’Gschh!!”

She barely had time to react before another shaky gasp hitched through her, her entire body curling slightly as she muffled the sneezes into the tissue still held between Rexar’s fingers. Despite the sharp jolts against his chest, he only smiled lovingly, rubbing slow, soothing circles against her back as she sniffled pitifully.

“Bless you, baby girl,” he mumbled, his voice rough but affectionate. He tossed the used tissue into the trash before brushing his fingers through her crimson hair, gently working through a few knots. “You get so cute ad sdeezy whed you’re sick~”

Kriia let out a tired little huff, too drained to argue as she melted back into him, her fever-warmed skin radiating heat into the crook of his neck. His arms looped loosely around her waist, letting her rest.

From the bed, Vaelyn scoffed, rubbing at his own raw, chapped nose with the heel of his palm. His sinuses were too swollen and sensitive to even attempt blowing properly, and every fit he had left him gasping for air and dazed for a good thirty seconds.

“God, I wish I sdeeze’d like thad,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and thick with congestion. “All soft ad tidy. Id’s like she’s got the fud size versiod of beig sick.”

Kalypso, who had been lazily nursing another swig from the bottle, gave him a side-eye. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be you if your sneezes weren’t obnoxious,” she teased, wiping her mouth. “Honestly, if you did sneeze like that, I think the universe would implode.”

Vaelyn scowled, snatching the bottle back from her and taking a deep gulp, his nose twitching threateningly as if to prove her point.

Kalypso’s sneezes were always a source of frustration—stuck, unsatisfying, and just painful enough to make her scowl with every failed release. And tonight, with the congestion clogging her sinuses and the alcohol dulling her senses, the teasing sensation was even worse. She sat there, lips parted slightly, nostrils twitching as her breath hitched over and over, but nothing came of it.

Vaelyn wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie, still grinning despite the miserable state he was in. “Bad, Kal, id’s hodestly just sad ad this poidt,” he mused, sniffling thickly. “Id’s like watchigg a dog try to cadch its owd tail ad still bissigg every siggle tibe.”

Kalypso, caught in the throes of another cruelly unfinished sneeze, shot him a murderous glare, nostrils flaring as her breath hitched relentlessly. “S-shut up—hhhhh—” She gasped sharply, her body tensing with anticipation, only for the sensation to cruelly fizzle out once again.

Vaelyn threw his hands up dramatically. “Ohhh, the tragedy! The absolute sufferigg! Will she ever kdow the sweet, sweet relief of a real sdeeze?” He clutched at his chest, shaking his head in mock pity. “We bay dever kdow, folks. This is a battle that’s beed waged for years—the dose agaidst itself. The stakes have dever beed higher.”

Rexar let out a raspy chuckle from the couch, voice still thick with congestion. “Vee, do ode wadts to sdeeze as buch as you do, bad,” he drawled, rubbing at his own nose before sniffling deeply. “You love thad shit.”

Vaelyn scoffed, tossing his hair out of his face with a flick of his wrist. “Thad’s because I’b good ad id,” he said smugly. “I excel ad sdeezigg. Id’s a taledt. A perforbadce. A full-body evedt. Kal, od the other hand?” He gestured to her struggling form, where she was furiously rubbing at her nose in frustration. “A tragic failure. A cautiodary tale.”

Kalypso finally snapped. “I swear to God, Vaelyn, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will—hh’ihh—hh'GXT’shh! Huhh’gTSHHh!—ugh—” She barely managed to stifle them into the sleeve of her hoodie, groaning in frustration at how unsatisfying the sneezes were.

Vaelyn smirked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “See? Eved your sdeezes soud pissed off. Thad’s how you kdow you’re doigg id wrog.”

The food was good, but their fevers and congestion dulled most of the flavor, making each bite more about getting something in their stomachs rather than actually enjoying the meal. Despite their exhaustion, they all ate as much as they could stomach, only stopping when they physically couldn’t take another bite.

By the time the chaotic meal came to an end, the room looked like a battlefield, empty plates and half-finished entrees scattered across the tables and nightstands. Even after all of them had eaten their fill, they still had enough food left over to feed an army.

Kalypso leaned back against the headboard with a groan, rubbing at her eye. “We’re gonna have to bribe housekeeping so much,” she muttered.

Rexar sniffled roughly, looking over the spread of untouched food. "Or we just leave it as ad offeri’g to the gods of bad decisiods," he rasped, nudging Kriia lightly.

Vaelyn sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or, hear be out—we just do dot deal with it at all.”

Kalypso snorted. “Bold strategy.”

Rexar reached for the bottle of alcohol, taking one last swig before handing it off again. “I mead, we are checki’g out id the bordi’g,” he mused with a lazy smirk. “Dot our probleb adybore.”

The night had devolved into a complete mess of slurred words, half-formed jokes, and dramatic reenactments of the reality show unfolding on the television. Kalypso, Rexar, and Vaelyn had worked their way through the expensive bottle of alcohol, their inhibitions long abandoned somewhere between the second and third round of “Who Can Hold a Straight Face While Vee Sneezes.”

Kriia had dozed off hours ago, curled up in a little ball on the couch with her hood drawn over her face, blissfully unaware of the degeneracy surrounding her. For a while, the trio had made a valiant effort to keep quiet, muffling their laughter into couch cushions, exchanging tipsy whispers instead of their usual cackling, and even stifling their sneezes to avoid waking her. But as time went on—and as the alcohol burned away what little impulse control they had left—their ability to be quiet began to unravel.

Vaelyn, already glassy-eyed and lazily slumped against the headboard, let out a sudden, harsh sneeze that sent his entire upper body jerking forward. “Hhh’IIESSHH’uhh!!” The force nearly knocked the half-empty bottle from his lap, and he barely caught it in time, groaning as he swiped at his nose.

“Dude,” Kalypso hissed, smacking his arm. “You’re gonna wake her up, and then she’s gonna get on our asses about being wasted—”

“And thed we’ll dever hear the e’d of it,” Rexar finished, his own voice raspy from strain.

But the promise of quiet quickly crumbled when Rexar, in his alcohol-fueled enthusiasm, decided to dramatically re-enact a scene from the show. With grand, exaggerated movements, he lifted both arms—only to be suddenly interrupted by a breathless, fiery sneeze.

“Hhh’tCHXXSHHh!! Hh’EXSHhh’uhh!! HIIH’NKXSHH!”

A burst of flames shot from his mouth and nose, igniting the curtain beside him in an instant.

For a second, the three of them just stared at it.

Then—

“Oh, shit—”

Complete and utter panic.

Vaelyn scrambled off the bed, Kalypso grabbed the nearest throw pillow and started whacking at the flames, and Rexar—who was somehow still laughing despite the chaos—grabbed his drink and attempted to pour what was left onto the fire, only to realize, belatedly, that it was alcohol.

“REX—!” Kalypso smacked his arm so hard that the bottle flew from his grip, landing with a thud on the carpet.

“Oh, my god—” Vaelyn wheezed, tears streaming from his fever-bright eyes as he coughed into his sleeve from the smoke. “This is—exactly—how we die.”

They managed, somehow, to put it out—though the curtains were now singed and smelled of burned fabric. Just as they were catching their breath, hearts still racing, a sleepy voice cut through the smoky tension.

“…Rex…?”

The three of them snapped their heads toward the couch like deer caught in headlights.

Kriia had stirred awake, still curled in her blanket cocoon, blinking drowsily as she rubbed at her tired eyes. She barely looked concerned, more confused than anything. Her gaze flickered between them and the very obvious scorched spot on the curtain.

“Seriously?” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep. She tossed a pillow weakly in their direction, hitting Rexar square in the chest. “You guys suck at bei’g sdeaky. Also, I cad still see you. I’b dot a T-rex.”

For a second, no one moved.

Then Rexar lost it.

“T-Rex,” he repeated, slurring slightly, before bursting into full-bodied laughter, his whole frame shaking. “That’s mby dabe!!”

Kalypso groaned, rubbing her temples. “Oh my god, here we go—”

Vaelyn just smirked, nudging Kalypso with his elbow. “Y’know, I never thought he’d be this easy to entertain. We should just keep a list of words with ‘Rex’ in them and see how long it takes before he passes out laughing.”

Kriia sighed, but even she couldn’t help but smile at the absolute idiot she was dating. “How drudk are you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rexar, still laughing uncontrollably, wiped at his watering eyes and slurred, “Like... so drudk. But also, like, dot drudk. You feel be?”

Kriia rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “That’s a no.”

Vaelyn snagged the half-forgotten bottle from the floor, giving it a once-over before leveling Rexar with a judgmental squint. "Really? Just leaving our very expensive, possibly cursed liquor to roll around like an abandoned orphan?" He tsked dramatically, wiping the neck of the bottle on his sleeve before taking a deep swig.

Rexar, barely registering the callout through his drunken haze, made a vague, dismissive gesture. "Dude, I'm holding it with the floor."

Vaelyn rolled his eyes, grabbing a few leftover fries off one of the carts and popping them into his mouth. "Unbelievable," he muttered around a mouthful, before washing it down with another gulp from the bottle.

As he set it down, a slow, mischievous smirk spread across his face, his fevered brain latching onto an idea that was, without a doubt, terrible. "You know what would really save this trip?" He drawled, eyes glittering with mischief. "Drunk, sick, strip Never Have I Ever."

Rexar immediately perked up, eyes going wide. "Yes. Yes." He flopped unceremoniously onto the couch beside Kriia, his movements completely uncoordinated. "Kriiaaa, you gotta play—don’t leave me alone with these two menaces."

Kriia, who had been half-draped over the couch, sniffled into her sleeve and gave him a long, considering look before sighing in defeat. "Ughhh, fine. But only because I feel left out being the only one here with a functioning brain cell."

Rexar let out an exaggerated cheer, wrapping his arms around her and planting a sloppy kiss on the top of her hooded head. Kriia laughed, shaking her head as she tucked herself further into his hold.

Vaelyn quirked a brow, pleasantly surprised. "That was way too easy. I was expecting more of a fight." His attention slid over to Kalypso, smirking as he waggled his brows. "So, that’s three for sick, naked, boozy game night. You in, Kal ?"

Kalypso stared at him, unimpressed. "...I hate you."

"That’s not a no," Vaelyn sing-songed, already passing the bottle her way.

Kalypso stared at him, her expression deadpan. “I also hate that you just called it that.”

Vaelyn’s smirk only widened, mischief flickering behind his fever-bright eyes. He swayed slightly as he took another long pull from the bottle, his voice turning syrupy with amusement. “C’mon, Kal, live a little.” He gestured broadly, nearly knocking over one of the many plates still scattered across the table. “We’re sick, we’re drunk, we’re already suffering—might as well make it fun suffering.”

Kalypso exhaled through her nose, her patience hanging on by a thread. She glanced at Kriia, who was still curled up against Rexar, absentmindedly scratching at his scalp while he hummed happily into her touch. The two of them were already fully committed to this disaster, and the sheer joy on Rexar’s dumb, congested face was enough to tell her there was no talking them out of it.

She looked back at Vee, who was watching her expectantly, bottle in hand, expression somewhere between smug and hopeful. His nose was red and twitching, lips slightly parted as he hovered on the edge of another inevitable sneezing fit. Kalypso rolled her eye, already regretting what she was about to say.

“Fine.”

Vaelyn barely had time to let out a victorious HA! before his breath hitched, his body snapping forward into his sleeve with a harsh, desperate fit.

“Hh-! Hh’ISCHHh! EISHhh! H’ISHHhh! —ish! shh! —sh! ………………hh’EISHHhhhuhh!”

Kalypso sighed, reaching for the bottle as he blinked dazedly, sniffling thickly. “I’m not doing this sober...”

To be continued…

[genericpuff]

Soo to understand some things because i get what's happening in LO only from Tumblr;

Apparently now there are two Titan villains Ouranos and Kronos for... reasons unknown

There's a prophecy of Apollo overcoming Zeus that makes no sense

Persephone is the one responsible for winter so Rachel proves she doesn't understand the meaning of the original myth of Hades and Persephone that's a metaphor for changing seasons / life and death

Kassandra is the one to tell it even though she was cursed by Apollo her prophecies to never be believed and also she's part of the plot even though Achilles in LO is very young and she's part of the Trojan war so... Rachel messed up the time periods

Eros and Psyche believe her as well which again doesn't make any sense because Kassandra's gift was also her curse that led to her downfall

I am sure there are more but Rachel just keeps adding plots and plots to no end trying to make things more interesting apparently? Idk so far the series is an overwhelming burn out 😅

Kronos was used as the midseason finale villain for people who are on free to read episodes, Ouranos was used as the actual midseason finale villain for people who are on FastPass, with Apollo as just like, an accessory. IDK if this is foreshadowing for Ouranos to actually 'return' (literally I have no idea how Apollo overthrowing Zeus will lead to Ouranos being revived but god knows at this point) but there are definitely WAY too many villains going on for a story that's meant to be just a romance/drama series

The prophecy for Apollo overthrowing Zeus is literally just the prophecy of "descendants of Ouranos use fertility goddesses to overthrow their predecessors" (so Ouranos used Gaia to gain power over the realms < Kronos overthrew Ouranos using Rhea < Zeus overthrew Kronos using Metis, even though most of the credit technically goes to Hera for handing herself over to Kronos in an attempt to poison him under the guise of them having a "relationship"). And yeah the implication is that the fertility goddesses in LO are limited to ONE family line that's been passed down since Gaia/Ouranos like the freaking Avatar, which KINDA REINTRODUCES THE INCEST BTW-

100% , I feel like it was her attempt at giving Persephone a "flaw" but this doesn't work because we've seen Rachel retcon aspects of Persephone to make her perfect before (the green hands) and it's not cool that Rachel can only give her a "flaw" by taking away the legitimate strength of the one other character who's CRUCIAL to the original story this series is based on.

More of Rachel trying to give lip service to the myths to sound smart even though it literally makes everything fall apart

Right, and this is such a massive plothole that happens TWICE within their respective episodes

This one time Rachel described her writing process as that scene from the Simpsons where Homer Simpson tried to force two jigsaw pieces together, and frankly, I think we should have taken that blatant foreshadowing more seriously because it's clear she's just trying to make circles fit in square holes with the mess that is this narrative.

And yeah, presumably the series is gonna end by mid 2024 so the estimates right now pin the series ending in 15-20 episodes, 30 tops. I have no clue how she's going to wrap all this up when she's still establishing new things. Even experienced professional writers wouldn't bother with trying to save this wreckage as it is, it would literally be sent back to the drawing board, but it's being left up to Rachel who's NOT an experienced writer to figure out how to end it on the fly. We're not in for a good time with this LMAO

[vacantgodling]

1, 3, 4, 8, 15 for the end of year ask game!! :3

hewwo thank you for the ask <3<3

1. what was your writing-highlight this year? what made it special and how will you reflect on it next year?

mentioned this in my writing in review for this year but finishing cage earlier this year really set me on a high note for the rest of the year. i really proved to myself that i can write 80k+ words in a single project; i can finish and fully flesh out a narrative, my dreams are achievable if i really put myself to it.

for a really long time i didn't think i could do it. there's a lot of reasons why i felt that way, but having people who kept up with every chapter, my partner and other friends like valen and multi listening to me rant ad nauseum about my ideas and thoughts, and giving myself permission to do something 'silly' turned out to be such a good decision. so i think next year i'm trying to take that energy into it. i'm writing for myself, my friends and my dick LMAO. but i'm also taking the strategies that i learned (ie: i need a long outline to finish something or i won't p much lol). so next year is really gonna be a planning year! i wanna have more outlines that i can go back and reread and become obsessed about sEUOSDJ

3. did you achieve everything you wanted to this year? if not, how will you go about it?

nah! but tbh i'm okay with it. getting distracted by other wips is just par for the course for me and my brain pfff so i'm not miffed that i got distracted by other things and paramour got put off to the side. i still think about paramour a LOT don't get me wrong; but khizzy and sjaak giving me brain rot is a welcome change.

i also could've never predicted i would get into conlanging--i barely knew what it was (outside of lotr really) but here i am a few months later with a whole baby language on my hands HAHA. i think i'm finally of the mindset that yeah writing is my life's purpose bc it would be meaningless without it, but its also a hobby and i wanna have fun with it <3

4. what is your favourite line you wrote this year?

this is so hard OSCJK thank god multiple people have asked this bc its definitely not just one. perusing through the things i wrote this year, i think one that stands out to me is from draft 3 of btaf (which is the actual Real Prose draft 1 attempt lol. its a whole tier system of me drawing this wip out) but its the first sentence kinda hits and i don't think i wanna change it cuz it sets the tone well:

The cruelest and craftiest of all the Devil’s handiwork—darkness—had descended upon and laid waste to the countryside.

something something, speaks of the savagery that is yet to be revealed later on, makes the wip super moody (the equivalent of the tried and true "dark and stormy night"), and alludes to the time period (cuz we're talking about the devil in deadass the first sentence PFF)

8. what are three things you're looking forward to next year?

i'm gonna be optimistic and say draft 2 (the elongated outline) of btaf will be done--i've been taking a break from it but multi's very sweet sweep of draft 1 has reinvigorated me with brain worms.

i also want to work more on he who smites the sun bc... khizzy beloved. and with that all of the wips from ph -> paramour i want to figure out how they're linked and their outlines etc

and then i think i'm just excited to just be more silly with what i write next year. i wanna get back into my art wips (tmc and broken clouds for instance) and write more smutty shenanigans with bruno and his mess. :D

15. time for shameless self-promotion! answer with a piece of writing you want others to see/read! (if you have nothing posted/published this year, any other year is fine too ^^)

this lore post about tcol which details MIZDARR and MUINENS's first meeting and how the harvest god KIBARUM was born. idk i really love the gods and mythos tcol has i should talk about it more. its not really writing writing but i want people to see it anyway :D

[kozachenko]

wooo yay I have another WIP in the works after I've finally had time to draw again yipeeeeeee (click for better quality)

Also, on a side note happy pride month! I don't have anything super special for this month like last year (also I've been on this hellsite for a year now jesus christ) and so I might as well post this WIP I've got going of Keiki and Mayumi because this idea has been marinating in my head for a while now and I needed to get it out.

I'll keep my artist's note brief as like with my previous WIP I am just gonna save that for the finished piece (Edit: It's done now so clink the link here to see it), but I would like to post some of my headcanons for the two of them here while I'm still thinking about both of them.

Artist's Notes;

So I really like the idea of Mayumi having some memory of her life before dying and ending up in the Animal Realm and that's part of the reason why she wants to protect Keiki so much, like, maybe she failed to protect someone she cared for in her life, or maybe she was just kind of an asshole and sees this as a second chance. IDK, I just think it could be a neat idea to play around with, especially if Mayumi is one of the few spirits who actually remembers her life, as I'm sure in most cases in Touhou, non-vengeful spirits tend to forget most of their lives upon death, so I think it could be and interesting idea to play around with. I also like the idea of Keiki asking Mayumi something along the lines of, "Are there any changes you want me to make to your appearance?" and Mayumi gives her input on what she wants her new body to look like, which I think could be a really nice moment of bonding between the two of them. Also, I love the canon detail of Mayumi being the only one who's really able to understand Keiki's way of speaking, I just think it's really cute.

As for how I drew both of them, I took a few liberties with their outfits and took some inspiration from Kofun period clothing and armor. I also figured out a way to draw Keiki's apron and I am so happy with it, as well as Mayumi's armor. Also, I like how Mayumi's hair is looking so far, as when I was sketching it, I was trying to draw it in a way that would still work in my artstyle and with the general shape language I was trying to go for with Mayumi, though in the finished piece I might make a few changes. Also will have to play around with Mayumi's positioning, as I want it to look like she's kneeling and her legs are being covered by the flame thingy, but at the same time I'm not to happy compositionally with how she's placed right now, so I'll have to work on that.