#*suprasternal

[the-switch-conspiracy]

Is there a sexy way to write suprasternal notch, like I know I could write 'hollow of his throat' or something similar, but like is that all? Lol, writing smut should not be this complicated :,)

[dontcurbyourenthusiasm]

Play that Funky Music White Boy

(gif by @lousolversons)

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL LIBRARY!!

Warnings: None (literally just a meet cute)

Author note: this is a silly little thing I wrote bc I think he deserves to have a meet cute and I love him. (Might turn it into a series) who said that??🤨

Pt. 2 here!

Believe it or not, that time during his first shift in the ED was not the only time his ringtone served to embarrass him.

Only a handful of shifts after that disaster of a day, he finally had a day off. It could not have come at a better time.

His original plan for the day was to sleep for as long as humanly possible, maybe lower his body temp and heart rate enough to be considered a kind of hibernation.

But of course, life had other plans and after a couple hours of tossing and turning fitfully he realized sleep was a lost cause. His body had gotten accustomed to the adrenaline rush of the ED even in the few short weeks and was buzzing even as his mind was screaming for rest.

Thats how he finds himself here, the public library with a book he's tried to read 5 times unsuccessfully. Being a med student meant that he hasn't had the time to read anything that wasn't related to school if his brain is able to read anything at all after hours of clinicals. But he bought this book years ago, back when he was younger and delusional; thinking he would be able to achieve enough work-life balance to read a book once in a while.

If he didn't read it now, he was almost certain he never would. Plus, thats what normal people did on their day off right? Read? Relax?

The library is largely silent. Even the kids were all in their designated Kid's Corner reading lowly to themselves. The only other noise is the periodical squeaking of the book cart, the very book cart he is trying NOT to look at. Everything is quiet and calm. Technically, it should be easy for him to whip through this short book that was only what? 170 pages? The only problem was the stupid book cart. Or not really the book cart itself, but who was PUSHING the book cart.

There you stood, eyes quickly flickering through the shelves, fingers fluttering as you looked for the perfect place for each book on your cart. A light blue linen button up draped over your front, the material was loose but light enough to hint at your figure underneath when the sun hit just right. The buttons stopped just at your clavicle, right at the suprasternal notch.

He'd never noticed the curve of someone's suprasternal notch before, even when treating chest injuries; there were more crucial organs in the chest to be concerned with. But now, it was all he could look at.

Like a creep. His internal monologue reminded him, making him snap his attention back to the same line he had been reading for the last 45 minutes.

Deep in the forest a call was sounding-

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC WHITE BOY

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC RIGHT

He jumps at the sudden blast of 80s funk, looking around panicked before he realizes its his own phone. Fumbling for his pocket, he hurriedly reaches to shut off the ringtone, just noticing the other eyes on him.

"Sorry, sorry" he apologizes around him in a hushed tone, so thrown by his second ringtone mishap that he doesn't hear the book cart squeak to a stop right next to him.

"I'm sorry but I have to remind you to silence your phone in the library"

His head whips over to find you looming over him, a sly smile on your face, despite your chastising words.

"I- I'm sorry, it's off now. Wont happen again" he says. He's hit with painfully embarrassing deja vu.

"I could spoil it for you ya know." He looks confused, until you nod to the book in his hand. "You've been reading the same page for half an hour now."

Shit. You noticed. "Uh... Sorry it's just hard to focus in here." Thats not entirely a lie.

"This is actually the quietest it's been in here for a really long time."

He doesn't quite know what to say to that, and he's left gaping looking for something else to say.

fuck say SOMETHING he thinks

Luckily you break the silence by leaning in. "Don't worry, this is the most interesting thing thats happened all shift" is all you say in a honeyed tone before rolling the squeaking cart away to the Young Adult isle.

He's stunned into silence, until a vigorous cough from an old man shakes him out of his head.

That was flirting right??

He was stunned but not stupid. That had to be something. Or was he projecting? Seeing something only what he wanted to see?

He thought back to all those times female classmates would talk about unwanted advances from men, all the acts of courtesy that were grossly misinterpreted and cringed.

He resigned himself to NOT approach you for the rest of his visit, something that set a melancholy tone for the rest of his book. Melancholy that had nothing to do with Thornton's death at the end of the page. Just as he was walking towards the exit, a voice calls to him from the side.

"How'd you like your book Funky Music?" It was you, standing behind the circulation desk, teasing smile on your face.

"Surprisingly alright. I'm just glad the dog wasn't the one to die" he replies, slightly surprised at how clear his voice sounded.

"If you liked that, I have some book recommendations for you," you motion to the pile of books in front of you. He approaches the desk carefully. "This one's slightly more sci-fi if you're into that." You start laying the books out in front of him. "This one is really sad. Like, really really sad. I barely got through it, but regardless, it's beautifully written."

You rattle on about the next few books you selected while he wonders when you had the time to pick them all out for him. As you talk, he tries to keep his gaze on the book covers in front of him, but every time his eyes meet yours he finds himself stuck.

There's subtle glimmer in your eyes, intensifying with each book. Your voice is almost melodic as you offer your own detailed synopsis of each one, brimming with excitement despite the relatively low volume.

"Did you wanna check any of them out?" Your eyes grow wide in questioning. He wonders how the library still has books on the shelves if this is how you're asking all of the patrons.

"Yes. Yea, sure" he clears his throat as he rasps out his answer.

"Great! Which one?" You beam.

Oh shit. What were they about again? He frantically looks back at the array of books in front of him racking his brain for any recollection of the summaries you gave.

His indecision must have shown on his face, because you quickly chime in.

"How's this, I'll pick one for you, and you can read another one when you come back?"

He just nods.

"Okay, I'll just need your library card"

He freezes. He didn't even have a library card. The only reason he came to this library was because he felt bad sitting in a coffee shop if he wasn't going to buy anything.

"If you don't have one we can make one for you right now if you want" you say casually as if you're reading his mind.

"That would be awesome" he blushes.

"Name?"

"Dennis Whitaker"

You repeat his name as your type it into the computer and he swears his name has never sounded sweeter.

"Phone number or email?"

After you're done filling out his info, you hand him a shiny new card and as your fingertips touch, he swears you let it linger for a fraction of a second longer than normal.

As he leaves the building, it takes every ounce of his strength not to take another look at you.

He hops on the bus, fiddling with the book when he notices a yellow post it stuck on the inside cover of his newly borrowed book.

xxx - xxx- xxxx Just in case you wanted to talk about something other than books, Funky Music :)

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

Thank you so much for reading!! I have a longer, juicier fic coming up so stay tuned for that MWAH (also this may be part 1 of a series soooooooo)

I also have some You x Whitaker meeting Santos headcanons!!

[austinslounge]

This Esquire photo 📸 does things to me 😩

🔥

The Chest Hair

The Neck Chain

The Neck Dip (aka The Suprasternal Notch)

🥵

[kortac-sweetheart]

i haven’t been a big fan of putting on fragrances for bed but now i am because like… i love dabbing some perfume on my suprasternal notch (space in between collar bones) and usually because i use oils it’s a more intimate scent bubble and uhh :) cuddling with nikto and his head is pressed right against your chest, nose nuzzled right near your sternum; super close to your collar bones where your perfume is.

of course he has his favorites out of your collection, ones that remind him of a home long gone— one that only exists in his dreams. of a time in his childhood where there would be a steaming pot of russian caravan on the table, of toasted silk road spices and worn leathers and suedes, of a roaring hearth in the heart of a home. (you’re already his home but whenever you wear that one, you become even more comforting than usual.)

but as usual, he’s also partial to ones that you like as well. that floral one… he doesn’t know how to describe it. but to him, it’s walking hand in hand with you while snow gently drifts to the earth, lying together under the wisteria blossoms (you had to tell him what flower was in here, otherwise he’d never know.)

or that one, with creamy rose and marshallowed jasmine—it reminds him of when he was young again. just a mere boy, trying to sneak a bite of dessert before being caught red-handed by his mother. reminds him of the vase of fresh roses that always adorned their living room. of christmas celebrations.

and another one that you got recently, of delicate and sheer peach skins and spring blooms that make you seem spring incarnate. reminds him of rolling green fields and of his desire to hand feed you peach slices until you smile.

he always looks forward to bed time with you. not that he didn’t before, but drifting off in your arms with the scent he helped you pick out is nothing short of a dream for him.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Best of 2024

Welcome to the final rec list of 2024 in which I look back at the best fic’s I read this year--what are YOUR favorite fics of the year? 

Hot Rod Red by FrankTheSnek

Steve has been single since the abrupt end of his engagement 5 years ago (despite the efforts of his friends). When he accidentally stumbles across an attractive cam model online, the idea of having a virtual booty call on hand seems appealing. The only problem, Tony is far more charming than Steve would have imagined and there is more to him than a pretty smile and a nice body. Too bad all their interactions are just part of Tony's job… or are they?

Picture This by mistymountainking

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

how light carries on endlessly by meidui

“I'm fine. I always heal up fine.”

“Do you?” Tony asks, two little words flaying Steve open. Steve looks up at him, and against the dusky light, Tony Stark strangely looks nothing like his father.

-

Between a near-drowning in the Hudson River, a panic attack in the middle of a mission, and a kidnapping, Steve learns to be happy.

business affairs by meidui

It’s two years of wanting him the way he hasn’t wanted Emma since their honeymoon to the pearl of the Pacific, eighteen months of Steve slipping into his hotel suite on business trips away from the prying eyes of New York, and twelve months of staying late after the cleaning staff clock out because Steve will ride him behind his desk with the door unlocked.

Senseless by Scavenge4Dreams

Blinded, deafened, exhausted, injured and afraid, Tony raised himself up into a defensive position, the knife coming up just like Nat had taught him.

“That had better fucking be you, Steve Rogers- it had better be you. Fucking disarm me. If you let me kill you, I swear I will be very, very pissed.” Tony snarled, sure it was Steve approaching. Had to be. Had. To. Be.

What if it wasn’t?

Sunshine on Leith by AvengersNewB, KandiSheek

With the new government law prohibiting the employment of unbonded omegas, Tony has no hope of keeping his job at SHIELD, knowing full well that he has little chance of ever finding a mate. That is until he's officially claimed by a very special alpha: Steven Grant Rogers, also known as Captain America.

In the Springtime of His Voodoo by shaenie 

“I’m removing Captain Rogers from this base, but not from active duty. I want him as SHIELD’s liaison to Stark Industries first and foremost. He’ll report directly to me,” Fury says. “As it is, your identity as Captain America is not public knowledge and it will remain that way until I say otherwise. That said, if you think you can get Tony Stark to work with you if you disclose that information, you have permission to do so.”

talk just right by meidui

The most Tony hears Steve talk is when they argue, but hand to god, that's not the reason Tony keeps picking fights with him.

Well, maybe a little.

As Sharp As Any Thorn by RurouniHime 

It’s four days to Christmas, there’s a city in shambles, and the nation is in mourning because of the actions of a single man.

Double Exposure by shetlandowl

After a brief stint in the third installment of the Captain America franchise, Tony Stark was brought back to reprise his role as Iron Man in the fourth Captain America movie, Avengers Assemble. Tony had spent most of his twenties becoming a household name as a rising star in Mexican telenovelas, and Avengers Assemble is his breakout role on the big screen – and, more importantly, his introduction to the mainstream US audience.

Even after the movie is completed, Steve and Tony’s friendship remains a source of support that they instinctively rely on for encouragement and guidance. Tony’s fearless approach helps Steve break out of his comfort zone, and Steve’s solid grounding helps Tony focus on what matters.

This promotional tour is a new experience for Tony, but with Steve’s help, his learning curve isn’t so steep. Steve’s learning curve, on the other hand, is life changing.

[laudaddysmitten]

You had me at

"Crowley In a Lab Coat"

by LaudaddySmitten

(GOAD Writer's Guild presents!)

I continue my theme of writing Good Omens fanfiction - WITH SCIENCE! 🥼 ♥️ 🔬🧪 ♥️ 🥼

I teased the artwork on this baby a bit in the past while (hint, amazing photo from the BAFTA's), see below the AO3 info for more on that!

Summary

Aziraphale's eyes were immediately drawn to the triangle of bare skin at the base of Crowley's throat, and all queries died before reaching his tongue. Crowley's deliciously deep v-neck henleys, which he always made even more enticing by undoing more buttons, fit just out of sight under the lab coat's lapels, showing off the curve of his clavicles and the deep suprasternal notch between them. With a start, Aziraphale realized he’d been blatantly staring at Crowley's throat and upper chest for heaven knows how long. Mortified, he snapped his eyes to Crowley's, which, uncovered, only further fueled his lust for the enticing botanist. Aziraphale was surprised to see that Crowley was sporting a smirk that looked…pleased. “Enjoying the view?” He arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh my, I er…..” Aziraphale gulped and looked down at his wringing hands. “How rude of me. I'm…ah, terribly sorry…” “Angel. Don’t apologize. I was actually…hoping you would.” Hands instantly stilled, Aziraphale looked up quickly. Had he heard that right?

CW: Rated E for Explicit sexual content. Read the tags on AO3!

Continue Reading on AO3:

This photo was the artwork tease/ clue:

Now that you've seen the artwork you probably know why. But just in case...

David Tennant (Crowley, ofc) + Jeff Goldblum's most iconic movie pose (from Jurassic Park):

Equals: Crowley In a Lab Coat by @lexarturo (She killed it!)

My original post/ tease on the matter:

Thank you betas of awesomeness, especially @ladybracknellssherry !! Also thanks to you and @riverstyx125 for the very last-minute help!

And help ages ago from other awesome people: @unapologetic-apathy @gingerhaole (for reference/inspiration art) and a couple other betas whose usernames I will find and add b/c tumblr hates me rn! lol @ezomind-the-other-one

And of course thanks to the Writer's Guild of @goodomensafterdark !

[lenjaysdp]

i hit you with my WOKE LASER BEAM and you drop to the floor as your hair turns blue and you feel pronouns forming in your suprasternal notch

[curioushabitforarivergod]

snippet of the fic im working on rn

sorry this is making me feral and i wrote it. harrymort. im thinking of making this multichaptered bcs this is ~1500 words in and i still have stuff to write before and a shit ton to write after

(unbetad at the current point in time. some wording will probably change)

still very unsure of what to call the fic but here u go anyway:

"Lord. You are a Lord, a saviour. You carry yourself with grace." His words flow quicker now, spurned on by the invisble string that connects Harry to Voldemort and Voldemort to Harry. "So I name you Voldemort, yes. But I name you Lord Voldemort. If— will—"

"Will I be your Lord?" Voldemort says, voice quiet. Harry nods, saved from his embarrassment. "You are a selfish boy," Voldemort continues, unfazed. "You have dug your little claws into my skin and I bleed. And you will deem it your blood."

He gestures Harry closer, and like a trance, Harry obeys. The King makes a noise in his throat, but it disappears into the dark as quickly as it came. 

"How old are you, little Hadrian?" Voldemort asks. He reaches out, running a sharp yet strangely gentle finger along the line of Harry's jaw. Taking his chin tenderly, Voldemort tilts Harry's face, observing. "You are not yet a man, I think." 

Voldemort slides his hand down, wrapping his long, cool fingers around the thin column of Harry's neck. He skims the shallow hollow of the suprasternal notch, nails catching on the clavicle. Silently, Harry tilts his head back, allowing more access, cheeks darkening. Voldemort moves higher once more, fingers flickering over the bump in Harry's throat. 

"No," he murmurs, voice like honey. "Your swelling of the man has not quite come."

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Sam, Interrupted

Welcome to “Dean’s Love of Pudding Knows No Mental Health Bounds: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e11: Sam, Interrupted.

An old hunter friend, who is suffering from hunting PTSD and currently resides in a mental hospital, calls the boys in to investigate a string of weird deaths in the joint. In order to gain full access, Sam and Dean decide to get themselves admitted (it’s not hard; they just tell the truth about their lives). As they try to track down the monster preying on the patients, they both start having their own mental breakdowns. Turns out it's because the monster can turn you crazy with a single touch, and she likes the taste of crazy brain juice best. Ew. After a couple of red herrings, the boys figure out that it’s the nurse from the beginning of the episode who’s the monster in disguise, and they have to fight her while hopped up on her crazy-making toxins. They win out in the end, though, of course, and then have a brotherly heart-to-heart (as much as Winchesters can do so) over the hood of Baby at the end.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Lor:

gonna feed this psychiatrist to the monster

ooo, he's serious, you can tell because he took off his glasses

 Mace: 

HAHAHA YES

welp, that’s not how you do that, but okay

 Lor: 

LOL

DOCTOR BABAR

 Mace: 

HAHAHAHA

 Lor: 

"I don't have any elephant books"

DEAN

 Mace: 

HAHAHAHA

I LOVE that he just… tells the truth

 Lor: 

"probably bc I started the apocalypse"

YES

it's so good

"and this one angel"

 Mace: 

one of my top 5 favorite tropes: tell the truth freely because you know no one will believe you

 Lor: 

YESYES

"no no, his name's Castiel. he wears a trench coat"

 Mace: 

super Plautine and super awesome

HAHAHAHA

 Lor: 

and then Dean comes in with "I wish he'd let this guilt go it wasn't HIS fault"

NOT HOW THIS WORKS

 Mace: 

YAS

omg SAM KEEP YOUR PANTS ON

 Lor: 

RIGHT?

nnngggg v-neck tshirts

 Mace: 

YAS

 Lor: 

oh, Sammy, honey. maybe he's talking to someone else

 Mace: 

“watch me” DEAN WINCHESTER

 Lor: 

YAAAAS

yep, Martin, those are indeed some of the possibilities

if they have had 5 suicides they should be SHUT DOWN

 Mace: 

he’s adorable

YUP

god, they look so snuggly in those robes

 Lor: 

RIGHT?

 Mace: 

omg Dean looks LOST

 Lor: 

travesty that we didn't get to see them in jimjams more often

HE DOES

 Mace: 

YES

 Lor: 

this is the only thing this doctor gets right, their codependence

 Mace: 

AGREED

 Lor: 

omg I seriously want to kick him in the shins

 Mace: 

SAME

 Lor: 

I COULD RUN GROUP BETTER THAN HIM

 Mace: 

HAHAHA

 Lor: 

Dean Winchester is the least narcissistic person in the history of time

 Mace: 

omg the hannibal reference DEAN

   Lor: 

"I gotta sleep sometime so somewhere in the mid50s" oh honey

I LOVE how he answers her and then shoots a question right back

 Mace: 

YES

 Lor: 

omg his dumb hands in his dumb pockets

YES

 Mace: 

she’s being WAY too flirty to be even remotely professional

 Lor: 

yeeeeah

 Mace: 

YES

 Lor: 

"thraped" DEAN

 Mace: 

DEAN SHE IS MENTALLY UNSTABLE LEAVE HER BE

 Lor: 

"you CANNOT hit that" listen to your brother, Dean. you know you would feel like crap after

 Mace: 

YEP

 Lor: 

OMG THOSE TSHIRTS

 Mace: 

WHITE TSHIRTS OMG

 Lor: 

is a puddle

THEIR ARMS

 Mace: 

their ARMS FUUUCK

 Mace: 

HAHAHAHA

 Lor: 

OMG DUDE I LOVE US

 Mace: 

YES

oh ewewewewew

 Lor: 

GROSS

omg Dean's little "I'm not doing nothin" pose

 Mace: 

JEsus, Sam GROSS 

YES

 Lor: 

SUPRASTERNAL NOTCH MY BELOVED

PUDDING

 Mace: 

YESYESYES

 Lor: 

"crazy works" oh jeez

they're voluntarily committed, so they should be able to call Bobby

 Lor: 

grumbles in was married to a psychiatrist

 Mace: 

SNORK

 Lor: 

it makes me NUTS

 Mace: 

maybe they’re avoiding it because they know he’d yell at them for committing themselves just for a case

pun intended?

 Lor: 

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA yes, yes, of course, definitely on purpose

HA! he sure would

"whole wide world of sports"

 Mace: 

oh, Dean, honey

 Lor: 

RIGHT?

but again, telling the truth. he's NOT WRONG holds him

 Mace: 

yep

 Lor: 

"it's a good question." HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALLOWED TO RETIRE WITH CAS AT A LAKEHOUSE

 Mace: 

YEP

hey now look you crazy bitch

 Mace: 

“he’s larger” omg

 Lor: 

"he's larger" haaaaaaaaaaahahahahaha

"you've had worse" DEAN

 Mace: 

interesting that Dean goes all huddly in the corner and Sammy gets violent

 Lor: 

ooooooh

it IS

"you look like hell, boy"

 Mace: 

YES

“crazy’s the clue”

 Lor: 

YEP

 Mace: 

“WHAT WHERE?!” HAHAHAHA

 Lor: 

HAAAAAHAHAHA

JENSEN the insanity and then the humor

 Mace: 

YESYESYES

 Mace: 

he is SO GOOD

 Lor: 

ten bucks says the not stepping on the cracks business was Jensen's idea

 Mace: 

HA

 Lor: 

it just feels like actor bit of business rather than writing to me

 Mace: 

yeah

 Lor: 

gotta do it scared, DeanDean

 Mace: 

YEP

you KNOW John made him kill monsters scared when he was little, so it’s not like he hasn’t done it before

 Lor: 

poor Sam. he ends up in this position an awful lot

YEP

 Mace: 

sigh

 Lor: 

"kinda made you easy to spot"

 Mace: 

HAHA

he’s not crazy, hag

she sure makes a big show of sticking her spiky thing out

 Lor: 

EW

HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 Mace: 

um, those doors would be locked, no?

 Lor: 

well SOME door should have been locked. maybe not the exit doors, but

 Mace: 

oh, healthy advice, Dean. JFC

Sammy just needs a healthy… outlet.

I could help him there.

 Lor: 

RIGHT? but it's like part of the tragedy of them, right? they kind of DO have to just keep going

HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 Mace: 

well sure, but they could telehealth some therapy too

 Lor:

LOL

Cas should have made them go. all like, "I have been researching human mental health, and I am... concerned. Dean. Do you ever engage in "self-care.""

Mace:

HAHAHAHA YES

[vroomvroommotherfucker]

These are all the parts that hurt yesterday. Almost all.

[randomabiling]

NaNoWriMo Entry #2

Pearl

July, 1891

“Robert, I don’t know what was so important-”.

His lips were upon hers and the rest of her words were swallowed into the depths of his soul as he covered her mouth so completely she gasped for air. Hands, greedy to feel every inch of her, pressed into the tender places that made her squirm with pleasure. Eyes closed, pops of light burst behind her lids as he pinched and caressed and pulled. Her mind spiraled into a dizzying freefall, all thoughts of seating charts and flower arrangements interrupted. There was no longer thinking, just a frenzy of feelings and impulses as her own hands instinctively responded, manipulating him in the ways he liked, making him groan and pant as he backed her into the wall.

She felt the absence of his hand and heard the small click of the lock, the knob secured against intrusion. It was like the release of a dam, both of them becoming more frantic in their movements, tearing at skirts and clasps and buttons. The loss of clothing made her hot skin prickle with gooseflesh and her shiver only fueled Robert’s need as he pushed her onto their bed and topped her. Finally finding the friction she craved as his body filled every blank space on hers, Cora rocked against him, taking him deep and holding him tightly. Their undulating rhythms quickened, and their release crested at the same time, both of them crashing against each other with each pleasurable and delicious wave.

When they’d both stilled, Robert collapsed beside her, his head resting on her sweaty shoulder, is finger tracing patterns above her breast. The tip touched the string of pearls still roped around her neck. She could feel one of the beads cradled in the hollow between her collar bones and that was the one he played with, pushing it back and forth lazily. The jewelry had been a gift from him after Mary’s birth and had quickly become one of her favorite pieces. 

“I should have thought on this more, when I bought it.” Robert leaned upward on his elbow, his face hovering over hers and his eyes directed onto the pearls.

“Hmm?” Cora felt drowsy suddenly, the carnal exertion adding to the almost constant fatigue she felt as the mother of an infant. 

“It covers my favorite spot!” Robert’s pout made her chuckle, and slowly his head dipped lower and he suckled the spot the pearl had occupied. The attention, the lingering kisses that grew more passionate, set her flesh tingling once again. 

“The suprasternal notch.” Cora’s voice cracked as his hand slid up the length of her body, as it cradled the slope of her breast. 

“Whatever it is, it’s glorious.It’s mine.” Robert’s mouth covered hers and her hips lifted in response, the pearls forgotten as they sailed towards release for a second time. 

[gurokichi]

Worried? There’s no need to be. You couldn’t scare me off if you tried, if anything I should be worried of scaring you off, mutt.

I didn’t mean to take a sudden hiatus, I just couldn’t get any ideas in my head and it was starting to genuinely piss me off. Not your fault this time.

But I do think you’d be adorable. I’d carve it in your suprasternal notch - that little dip between your clavicles/collar bones - like the pet ID of a collar.

I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. So get that pathetic thought out of your head. Never think it again. If I’m gone for a bit longer than usual it’s one of two things: I can’t think of anything or I’m writing something long for you. I’m not such a shitty owner I’d abandon my mutt just like that - I’m almost offended. But I know you probably don’t know any better but to worry, huh?

I’ll be back soon mutt. Patience is key, dear mutt. I’m always watching you. And yes, I do see the reblogs in my tag. Stop worrying. I’m staying.

Sadistic anon

OH… oops. I’m sorry (ㆀ˘･з･˘) And you don’t need to be worried about scaring me off! I really doubt that you could, ehehe

You’re fine, I wouldn’t even really count it as a sudden hiatus. You did say you’d send stuff weekly, and it hadn’t even been two days since your last ask, I may or may not be slightly attached!!! I dunno, I just really like talking with you and am going a lil bit crazy that I have to wait for an ask to be able to. Even if you don’t have any ideas, you can always come and chat with me!

OOH MY GOSH. I’m so happy you think that it’d look adorable! Giggling… I was more so thinking of like me carving it into myself when I posted that, but I’d love to have you do it too! I really like my collarbones. Is that weird. I think that collarbones look nice. ANYWAYS, I was going somewhere with that, which is whenever I look at them, I’d be reminded of what I am… ahshsjdjshd. And that’s a really visible place too; anyone who may see it would know that I’m your mutt (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)

That makes me relieved to hear! I probably won’t be able to stop worrying completely just like that, but this does make me feel better, and I have no reason to not trust what you say. And I didn’t say you were shitty, please don’t be offended!!! T^T I just get nervous easily… bleh.

Yayayayay! I will try 2 be more patient!! Okay, I was genuinely so unsure if you did see the reblogs or me yapping about you… so I am glad 2 know that you actually do. And okayokay I will try my best (≧∀≦)ゞYou better be staying!!! Would drag you back here if you even tried to leave… grrrrrrrr

[redstrewn]

Looking at ais like damb baby ur suprasternal notch

[mcclainwilla]

Writing Fight Scenes Part 8 - Illegal Strikes

Sorry this took a while to get out, school has been kicking my ass (but what's new) and I couldn't think of a topic to tackle, until I had a vision in my grocery store parking lot. Up until this point, I've been talking about 'honorable' martial arts/fighting techniques. But what happens if your character is just a cunt?

I'm going to talk about types of illegal hits (learned from my time in martial arts/watching UFC fighting, not from my own exploits) and when/why your character would ever want to do such a sucky thing

TW: injury mention, death mention, brief eye horror mention.

Please tread carefully if you're sensitive to violence! I fully anticipate having a personal case of the heebie jeebies by the time I'm done writing this post

Types of Illegal Hits

When I was still actively practicing martial arts, my instructor would sing (to the tune of 'head, shoulders, knees and toes') "eyes, ears nose throat and groin, throat and groin" which, honestly, is most of what you need to know. But I'm going to expand on that a little bit

Back of the head

Specifically, the junction between your character's spine and your neck. If you poke around, you'll find a little divot there. That is where the brain stem is, which connects the spinal cord to the rest of the brain. As opposed to the rest of the head, especially the forehead/frontal bone, the back of the head is kinda squishy/not well-protected by the skull. This is a magnificent design flaw, because the brain stem controls most involuntary vital functions like breathing and heart rate, which means that a hit to the back of the head could send a character to meet their maker

Throat

Throat strikes can also be life-threatening because, as you might've guessed, it will impact a character's breathing (or, in the worst cases, the neck bones). The larynx is at the top of the throat column, whereas the trachea is at the bottom. Ultimately, the terminology doesn't matter too much, because both are very bad places for your character to be hit. The suprasternal notch, which is the divot between the collarbones, at the very base of the neck, is not a fun place to be hit, but it won't kill your character (Rio, one of my characters, motherfucker unlimited, hits one of his classmates here and nearly gets suspended)

Eyes

Explains itself. A character would probably want to use their thumbs

Ears

There are a couple here. Right behind the ears/corners of the jaw are some particularly nasty soft spots. I used to think it was the eustachian tubes, but I could be wrong, maybe it's actually the lymph nodes, or something else entirely. Either way, I was once hit here with an oven mitt that was tossed at my face, and it brought me to the ground

Also, there's something called a 'thunderclap' which is basically a character clapping their palms over an opponent's ears (less of a cupping/holding motion and more of a simultaneous smack). The sudden change in pressure will rupture their opponent's eardrums, which 1. Hurts like a bitch and 2. Will at least temporarily deafen them

Knees

This one is kinda tricky because some strikes aimed at the knees are okay (kicking out the backs of the knees isn't fun, but it won't ruin a character's year), and some are not. It's not cool to aim at the front and top of the knee, because that's how dislocations happen. Your character ought to stomp, rather than kick - gravity gives some assistance and even if the opponent bends their knee in preparation, it still has a good chance of breaking

Why would a character throw illegal hits?

Because, clearly, they can be pretty devastating. I'm not going to tell you that a character can't throw these kinds of hits during a sparring match, but they really shouldn't, unless you're trying to prove that they are a bitch (like my kid, Rio). That's because friendly/instructional sparring matches are defined by a sense of mutual respect and good sportsmanship - the goal is to improve the skills of one or both parties, not to maim. But, on the other hand, it could be a pretty powerful characterization moment if a character gets worked up and smashes their sparring partner's knee in. Any character who disregards combat etiquette, whether intentionally or impulsively, is bound to build a reputation for themselves both within the narrative and among the fandom

Primarily, however, these underhanded hits are best utilized in a self-defense scenario, especially when your character is otherwise at a steep physical disadvantage (shorter/lighter/weaker/etc.) It's also okay to pull these out during a serious, but more evenly-matched, fight between two characters. Just, again, remember that it's really not nice, and that the victim character would probably be well within their rights to seek revenge at the next available opportunity

[indigoislandgirl]

I'm Sorry.

I'm sorry. Are you distracted by my body?

That weight strapped to my back— do you watch it shake as I sway my hips? Perhaps it's the scoop of my waist? Or the triumph on my lips?

Are you captivated? Forced to watch, as my necklace catches on my suprasternal notch?

Do you imagine I do it for you? That my rhythm is a performance— a private dance, a showing for us two?

Did I entrap you with my smile? Ensnare your gaze forever in mine? Did I give you the impression

that undying love... is my next confession?

[steveskafte]

ON THE OUTSIDE

When I said "I do" back in October 2011 was the only time I wore a ring on my finger. I never intended to leave it there. I've got wide knuckles and skinny digits, so it's tight to slip on but loose once it does. Maybe I also rejected the notion a little from an aversion to tradition, same reason why Susy kept her own family name. Who was I to steal it from her? In any case, that band has been hanging on a chain around my neck ever since, currently one that belonged to my late grandfather. I took a couple links out so it hangs exactly in the suprasternal notch — that dip above your sternum and between your collarbones. It lays flat and invisible under my shirt, though I sometimes wear it on the outside as well. When my heartrate rises, I hear it softly rattle with each beat, something like a windchime singing to a natural rhythm. In that way, I'm always reminded of the unshakable connection between emotional passion and the physical kind. Closer to my heart than my hands. June 10, 2025 Canada Creek, Nova Scotia Year 18, Day 6421 of my daily journal.