#it is easy to me but also not but it also is and i am the loneliest thing in the universe but i am also okay with that but also i hate being

[weirdmageddon]

the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

[jesuistrestriste]

hi i’m also a cancer 🫶🏼

anyways this isn’t a new thought on this site but art would get floaty when you praise him more than two times in a row. like it’s overrrrr cancel your plans he’s mush

on a sweet note he would love to match outfits/ color coordinated with you !

🌸

oh my gosh, art donaldson absolutely melts at praise. 100%. a few sweet whispered words in his ear, and he's gone. weak in the knees with a pounding heart !

while he does love when you praise him for mundane things (i.e., 'you always make such a good cup of coffee for me in the morning' or 'you look extra handsome today'), he loves to hear it most when he's getting touched or fucked or licked or bitten.

it's easy for him to let your affectionate words coax him into a quick orgasm. he does try to hold back, but it's extra hard when your lips brush the shell of his ear, or the nape of his neck, while you whisper things like:

"such a pretty boy for me"

"you feel so good inside me, art"

"oh my god, don't stop— your mouth is fucking amazing"

"you're fucking me so well, baby"

"you're a good boy"

the latter phrase is his personal favorite. maybe a bit cliche, but it always gets his cock throbbing and squirting immediately. he moans the loudest when the sound of those four words dance around in his head as he comes. he loves it.

you are always happy to indulge his pleas for praise, which almost always follow the same sort of verbal pattern:

"please, tell me im good" or "am i doing a good job?"

he likes to ask leading questions. ones that guide you to understand that he wants praise, without him having to ask for it directly. even though you two have been together for a while, and he knows that you know that he loves that kind of talk in the bedroom, he still goes pink in the cheeks and gets sweaty palms sometimes when he's tasked with asking for it. it's just his nature; something in his dna, maybe. he's a nervous little thing from time to time. and yet, he's usually so confident on the tennis courts. admittedly a confusing phenomenon at times.

in terms of the color coding, I think he absolutely loves to take you to his tennis events. the ones where you're expected to dress up. which is essentially all of them.

he'd see what color outfit you were planning to wear, and he'd match his tie to it every time. he liked being able to walk around the events and show people that you two were together. in some ways, it felt like he was showing people that you owned him. it wasn't like he was wearing a collar or anything like that, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel some stronger sense of devotion to you when he put in the extra effort to coordinate his outfit with yours. and he'd be lying if he said it didn't boil a soft heat in his gut.

[risuola]

ENTRY #12 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // In a room full of other people, blindly I'd find you.

contents: arranged marriage!au, jealousy (duh!) — wc. 1463

a/n: little experiment, let's see how it goes. please let me know what do you think of this chapter! also, we're getting closer to the nsfw entry, i hope you guys are as excited as i am!!

series masterlist

“You are breathtaking. I did not deserve an honor of your presence.”

Satoru hates it.

“The pleasure is mine,” you reply, a sweet smile adorning your face in a way that makes your husband narrow his eyes. A hand dances along your spine, caressing the bare skin that you decided to expose in a dress with a low cut on the back. You are breathtaking. You are a sight that should cost money to be looked at, you are stealing the show, like a magnet attracting both men and women around the wide ballroom.

He hates it so much.

You seem polite, overly so and accepting too — a little too much for Gojo’s liking. You move along the man — not him — with grace, with fluidity and the long layer of smooth fabric dances around your legs. The dress you wear makes him salivate, it makes him think thoughts that are ungodly, that are unallowed. Silk that wraps around your body in an expensive, luxurious embrace causes Satoru to curse himself for buying that very dress for you few days before. It is beautiful, tailored to your shapes and edges. It’s soft, but with enough body to flow gracefully along your movements. It hugs your chest and loosens up below your hips, it’s a dream, you are a dream.

But you are dancing with someone else.

It’s a job unlike the others. An order from higher ups required you and him to attend a ball — an event as fancy as it can get because there has been a rumor that said the circles of people, filthy and rich, were contracting curse users for entertainment, causing chaos and harm. It would be easy to just get all of them, interrogate, torture, but this time the means are different. This time, it’s you who plays the main role, swiftly engaging with influential men and pulling their tongues until they slip.

It was easy.

Men there were dogs and a sight of a woman — as beautiful as you — laced with a silent promise is enough to make them spill their secrets. They were eating from your hands, wrapping themselves around your pinkie, voluntarily telling you more than you asked. Easy.

But Satoru hates it.

He’s there with you, your plus one, your partner and an entry card for a party as luxurious as it is. You didn’t know how he got the invitation, but the sight of it didn’t surprise you. He is rich, he is Gojo, you are Gojo.

And you are annoyed.

You don’t like the job. You got what you wanted, it was a child’s play but then, you hate how good your husband looks. You hate how other women are looking at him, ogling him, undressing him, eating him alive. The lady that clings to him — onto him — seems too old, too eager. Her greedy hands cannot settle for one place, wandering over Satoru’s broad shoulders, his chest hidden beneath a crisp, white shirt, his sides. The obnoxiously manicured fingers are dragging themselves across his body, examining, exploring, consuming. They are underneath his suit jacket; they are in his hair and near his face and you wish to break them one by one.

Satoru is smiling, working his features into a sight of an angel, using his eyes to hypnotize, whispering sweet little nothings and promising more than he’s willing to give, just to get what he wants in exchange. He has it easy, you think. Your husband is blessed with not only strength but also looks, unfairly, but god do seem to have favorites.

He catches you looking. You catch him looking. A silent communication that makes it through the distance of the ballroom, and then you’re focused on the man beside you again. Suddenly aware of hands that roam your curves, of traces of unwanted heat that his fingertips are leaving at their wake, a breath against your neck. An invitation that whispered right to your ear causes you to flinch involuntarily and a shiver that runs down your spine makes you take a step back.

“Excuse me,” you smile, a fake gesture wrapped in fake politeness. Your hands press against his chest and his own slip over the silk of your dress. He lets go of you, nearly, and you’re close to leaving when you feel his fingers digging into the soft flesh above your hipbones. The entire front of your torso hits the hard chest, knocking the air of your lungs for a split of a second.

“Don’t leave me yet, darling,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your earlobe. There’s a shift in his tone, the sweet and flirty undertones are suddenly much darker, greedier. His grip grows harsh against your skin, forcefully intimate.

“Oh, it’s time for me,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips. With a corner of your eye, you notice Satoru getting closer, but you have no intention of waiting for him to save you like you’re a damsel in distress. “Let go,” you warn, sneaking one of your hands underneath the suit jacket of the man. Swiftly you move it to the top of his shoulder, a little more to his back and you squeeze, digging your fingers harshly into the one, very sensitive spot right above his shoulder blade. The vulnerable muscle tense underneath your assault and the man winces, cursing under his breath and calling you names that are far from elegant. “Hands off. Or you’ll say goodbye to your right hand and I bet you need it.”

He growls, like an animal under attack, hisses almost and you smile in victory when his hold on you falters, allowing you to step back. You smooth your dress, fix the straps on your shoulders, and blow a strand of hair from your eyes before Satoru reaches you, effectively cutting short any attempts of biting back that the man could have had.

“Anything you wish to say?” He asks, narrowing his eyes, lowering his tone. It’s cold enough to make you shiver, scary almost, and inside it makes you giddy. He is so very jealous it’s written all over his face and yet, you’re certain, he would never admit it even if burned and tortured. “No? I thought so.” He closes the conversation before it begins, cuts the discussion short and turns to you.

“Hello, handsome,” you greet him, suddenly possessive and it surprises you as much as it does surprise him, because a short oh slips through his lips when you reach up to lock your fingers together at the nape of his neck.

“Hello to you too, beautiful,” he replies, the words foreign on his tongue but feeling so right and then, his hands follow the curves of your hips and waist until he finds the spot to rest one of them — the other moves further, circling behind you and planting itself on your bare back. The touch burns your skin, sending waves and waves of heat throughout your entire system and to your face.

You feel the eyes on you, much more threatening than before. The stares of women present around you are drilling holes in your body and if they could kill, you’d lay cold already.

“I’ve never seen you jealous,” Satoru purrs against your lips right after you pull him down, pressing a kiss to his mouth — possessive, proving, claiming.

“Goes both ways,” you tease and he rolls his eyes, but drops his head lower, sucking a spot on the side of your neck. A mark to show everyone that you belong to him, a signature etched onto your delicate skin, a bite of nothing but unspoken love.

“I’m not jealous,” he protests, just for the sake of it because he knows it’s false just as well as you know it. His voice vibrates against your flesh and his breath tickles you, his eyelashes do too.

Satoru inhales, filling his lungs with the subtle scent of your skin and perfume, the one with sweet vanilla undertone that he likes so much on you. It suits you, makes you seem delicious, makes him want to taste you. It calms him — your presence — it makes him relax underneath the sturdy hold of your hands. It teases him. The way your thumbs are brushing against the very sensitive spots on his nape, it makes him want to whimper and so, he pulls you closer, flush to himself, hungry for your touch and presence.

“We should leave this place,” you murmur quietly, running the tips of your fingernails across his scalp, sending shivers that run down his spine.

“Yeah,” he inhales again, bracing himself to leave the comfortable spot in the between your shoulder and neck, and before you know it, he’s pulling your hand, pulling you somewhere only he knows.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe @fortunatelyfurrygiver @lolita-h

[myfriendgoo94]

Heya, today is my birthday. I’m 30 now and I’m cautiously hopeful but also having a bit of an existential crisis. I was never supposed to make it to this age. Something in my brain tells me that this is the beginning of the end of my life, which is obviously bullshit, but those feelings are intense to say the least and easy to let spiral out of control.

BUT!! Here are some facts:

1: my early and mid 20s were garbage. I’m willing to believe plenty of ppl have good times during this time but i didn’t.

2: i know myself better than i ever have, and i even sorta like myself a lil bit. DEFINITELY not every day but more and more often then i ever did before. I’m getting downright comfortable with myself, which is frankly shocking to me.

3: i’m prettier than i’ve ever been before. Even looking at pictures from a year ago i almost don’t recognize myself and that’s a great feeling. The dysphoria is as bad (if not slightly worse) than it’s been in the past, but when i *am* feeling attractive i feel crazy attractive. So that’s a win i think.

4: this has literally been the best year of my entire life. No competition. Like it’s not even *close* lol. I’ve really come into my own with fashion, restarted my love affair with both music and books, became very proud of my ability to cook, and i even managed to get engaged to the love of my life! This one is by far the best.

So, while i’m indeed feeling strange and a lil sad about my 20s being over, i can at least take solace in the above facts. Sry if this was meandering or self-indulgent but i sorta needed to get all of this off my chest tbh.

(ALSO: if you wanna be a sweetheart and get me a present my amazon wishlist is pinned to the top of my page, and if you wanna support me/see me naked my onlyf@nz link is in my bio ☺️)

[anqelically]

A KISS WELL DESERVED

WARNINGS. yuta okkotsu x gn!reader, 0.3k words, fluff

NAVI | JJK MASTERLIST

yuta okkotsu doesn’t know how to tie a tie.

it’s a simple thing, really, but he couldn’t figure the accessory out no matter how hard he tried. yuta might’ve been good with his hands, yet his fingers couldn’t find their way to tie it properly. when the occasion arose for him to wear a suit, he took the easy way and wore a pre-tied necktie.

so when the two were invited to a relative’s wedding and he couldn’t find the tie, yuta’s last option was to hope that you knew how to tie the thing. fortunately, you did and offered to do it for him.

“you know,” you commented after watching his failed attempt, “you really weren’t lying about being bad.”

“why would i lie about it?” yuta asked with a small pout of his lips.

“maybe to get my attention. i’m still getting ready, after all.” 

your hands reached for the untied item around his neck, and you pulled him closer to you with ease. yuta’s cheeks flushed at the action, eliciting a giggle from your lips. you said nothing as you tied the tie around his neck with ease. with your proximity, yuta could smell the scent of shampoo from your freshly washed hair.

“now would you look at that, easy as pie,” you teased him, straightening the wrinkles out of his suit.

yuta took a glance in the mirror, “thank you for that. i won’t bother you anymore. you need to fix your hair still, right?”

while yuta moved away to give you some space, you tilted your head. he was searching for his socks a few feet away when you called for his name.

“i think you’re forgetting something.”

yuta blinked, thinking hard, “i am?”

you innocently nodded and beckoned him to come closer. when he was within arms reach, you pulled him closer by his tie and softly placed your lips onto his. you also pulled away before yuta could lean in, teasing him further.

“i deserved a kiss for that, no?”

NOTE. last panel of the chapter hurt me but wtv… also this was inspired by this cover

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@lovedazai @enoojnij @spenzitz @chuuyrr @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @osameowdazai @janbannan @little-miss-chaoss @lvstyangel

[purplesuitcowboy]

for everyone who wanted me to write daddy x daughter again, i hope this does something for you. i might write a sequel with some sharing if i feel inspired. also, this is not suppose to be realistic. it's porn.

tw: rape (she consents but it's a bit weird), fake kidnapping, and incest

"Don't look at me like that," her father told her pointedly. "I told you that you needed to pay attention when you went out but you didn't want to listen to me. You didn't believe me and now look at you."

Despite the chiding, Hannah continued to glare at her father. She understood the lesson but surely, this was several steps too far. He'd been telling her for years that she needed to pay more attention to her surroundings when she went out at night. Over and over, he told her that she shouldn't dress like a little slut when she went out alone lest some man take it as an invitation and help himself. Of course, she hadn't believed him. She was doing what all of her friends did and nothing ever happened to them - save for being cat called or occasionally groped on the bus.

None of them found themselves semi-kidnapped by their own fathers like Hannah had or if that had, they hadn't ever mentioned it to. She pulled fruitlessly at her hands which were bound together and tied to bar on the roof of the van. Fucking asshole. It didn't exactly prove his point that he had "kidnapped" her and not some stranger. Still, she hadn't even heard him coming, too absorbed in texting back her sorority sister Abigail to pay attention. He'd walked up behind her, shoved a funky rag over her face and pulled her into an alleyway before she knew what was happening. He could have been anyone but he just so happened to be her dad.

She was relieved to the point of near tears when she saw her father's face. She thought he was going to save her but she quickly figured out that was not exactly the situation. The earlier fear had dissipated and in its stead, she felt annoyance. He had proved to her that he was right. She would have told him as much but she couldn't really speak with the ball gag in her mouth.

"You earned this. I need you to remember that this is what happens to girls who don't obey their fathers." He told her as he grabbed her feet and untied them. Feet freed, she kicked at his hands. He caught them easily, moving them out of his way. " I know you're in college now and you think that you know everything but I am still your daddy." Perched between her legs, he reached up and released her hands from the ceiling. She sagged, hands hanging limply in front of her. Her shoulders ached from having her arms tied above her head for so long. He left them tied which earned him a displeased grunt from Hannah.

"Oh, we're not done yet. You think a kidnapper would just let you go without getting a taste of that sweet little cunt of yours? I don't think so - especially, since you seemed so determined to give everyone a peak, wearing this strip of fabric that you call a skirt around. Showing off your ass for every man to see." He grabbed her ass to prove his point, roughly fondling the soft flesh. A distorted squawk made its way from Hannah's lips, expressing her surprise at her fathers actions. Up until this point, this had not been a pleasurable experience but the thought of getting fucked by her father, even as a punishment, brought a warm feeling between her legs.

Her father exited the vehicle, standing on the ground between the open back doors. He dragged Hannah forward, grabbing one of her free feet and pulling her towards him. Positioned between her legs with her lying down on her back, it was fairly easy to pull off her skirt and panties, revealing her pussy to his gaze. His eyes landed on the sparkly jewelry that decorated her clit and he scoffed.

"Unbelievable."

He was disgusted that his daughter was such a slut but painfully turned on despite himself. He'd seen pierced pussy's in porn before but never in person. He wanted to take her little jeweled clit and suck on it until she cried and begged him to stop. Absentmindedly, he grabbed his hardening cock, rubbing it through his cargo shorts. Hannah watched him as he examined her body. She loved it when men looked at her like that like she was nothing more then a walking set of holes for them to fuck. She never imagined that she'd get a look like that from her daddy. Her desire to be fucked was quickly overriding her previous anger with him. He rubbed at her clit with his fingers,jostling the jewelry. Hannah shuddered in response to the sensation, rocking her head back against the floor of the van as her back arched. Fuck. She'd been so sensitive since she'd gotten it.

He crawled back into the van, sitting on his knees near her head. Quickly, he pulled his hard cock out of his pants, pulled the ball gag out of her month, and shoved his cock down her throat. The ball gag slumped down onto her chest, leaving a trail of spit in its wake. The sloppy "gluck, gluck, gluck" sound of him fucking her mouth quickly filled the van, married with the sounds of his heavy breath. Taking a firm hold of her hair, he guided her head back and forth. Hannah eagerly accepted her "punishment", relaxing her jaw and using her tongue to caress the underside of his shaft.

He pulled out of her mouth, a thin line of drool connecting his shaft to her open mouth. Delicately, almost lovingly, he rubbed the head of his cock against her plush lips, smearing precum across her mouth. Locking eyes with her father, Hannah slowly licked the precum off of her lips and then leaned toward to lavish the tip with wet, sloppy kisses. He watched enraptured as she clumsily used her bound hands to hold his cock while she took him deep into her throat. Somewhere in their combined pleasure, the point of the exercise was lost.

He pulled her to her knees and drew her bound hands up to the ceiling of the van, tying her hands to it. He pulled her hips to him, leaving her positioned with her back bowed and most of her weight held by her hands. Looking at her, he clicked his tongue.

"We can't have that. Can we?" He told her, as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her chest. Grabbing the front of her button up blouse, he pulled roughly at the fabric. The cheap buttons quickly pop off of her shirt, scattering and skittering across the floor of the van. He pulled at her bra, freeing her tits from the cups. It was immediately clear that her nipples were also pierced.

"That's better," he said, tugging on her nipples until they hardened to stiff points.

Hannah whimpered as her daddy pulled on her tender nipples. Her cunt seemed to throb, begging for attention.

"Please fuck me," she told him, earning a chuckle in response.

She felt the head of his cock tease her entrance, rubbing against her slick folds and bumping at her clit. She rocked her hips against him, trying to encourage him. He slipped the head in only to slip it back out, and grind against her cunt.

"Please fuck my pussy, daddy. I want your cock so bad. Please," she begged.

"I don't know," he told her, reaching between her legs to slowly rub her clit. "You have not been very respectful lately. I am not sure if you deserve it."

Hannah gasped, at the contact. She could probably cum from his fingers but he was just going so slow. She pushed her ass back towards him, and spread her legs further to give him more access.

"I'll be good. Daddy, I promise."

Finally, he relented. He pushed the head of his cock into her wet hole. Slowly, he worked inch after inch of his thick dick into her tight cunt until he'd filled her completely. Hannah moaned as her pussy stretched to accommodate his massive length. It hurt so deliciously. She wanted to rub her clit so badly. Unable to do much else, she began to rock herself back and forth, fucking herself on her father's cock.

"I love your cock in my pussy," she told him breathlessly. "You stretch my little cunt out so good."

He grabbed one her of legs and threw it over his shoulder, using it for leverage to fuck her harder. Hannah's voice rose an octave as her father began to fuck her from this new angel. With his free hand, he rubbed her clit, fingers clicking against her jewelry, and he continued to do so until her legs were shaking and she was cumming on his cock.

"Whose pussy is this?" He asked her as he roughly fucked her through her orgasm.

"Yours daddy," she told him, saying it over and over again until the words seemed to loose all meaning.

She slumped against the rope, as he pulled out, body exhausted from the events of the day. In the midst of their fucking, she'd lost track of the feelings of pain in her shoulders, and wrists but post orgasm it all came rushing back to her. He swatted at her ass, causing her to jerk forward. Laying down, he pulled her on top of him. His cock easily slipped back into her sensitive hole.

"Oh, no. You're done when I say your done. Ride daddy's cock, baby."

Hannah opened her mouth to complain but another swat to the ass motivated her to move her hips. Her father tugged at her hips, pushing his cock deeper into her. She held the rope that connected her to the roof of the van to steady her as her father took control, roughly fucking into her.

"I love watching those fat tits of yours bounce as you ride my cock," he told her.

She rode him until his thrust's grew erratic and he came deep in her womb. After the sensitivity wore down, he pulled his cock out of her pussy and tucked himself back into his shorts. Finally, he released her from the ceiling and untied her hands. The skin was red and raw where the ropes had sat. He examined her wrists carefully for damage and determining them not substantially hurt, kissed both of her wrists. Body stiff and unwieldy, Hannah crawled around the van to grab her discarded skirt and panties.

Her father crawled out of the van. She watched him look around and seemingly spotting something, she watched his face split into a wide grin. She scrambled trying to cover herself as she heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Hannah, baby. Come say hello to Chris. He let me borrow his van for your little lesson."

[poppy-metal]

patrick has young gf! reader watch his old games with him. pulls her close to him and traces her skin. his hand on her thigh as he prods her about what she's thinking. it starts out innocently enough, asking her how she thought his playing. how he looked during the match. slowly the questions start to lean more towards art - did you like him? did he play better? did you notice how he looked? the questions slowly turn into stories of their past. talks about how big art is, how he taught him how to use it, how to touch himself - just like he did you - and more. gets you all wound up because he needs to see it. needs to see that you'll easily accept art into your orbit once patrick manages to snag him again. he needs to see that you want art as much as he does. 

it's the opposite with divorced dilf! art and his girlfriend though. he sees you one day rewatching his old games and is excited to talk about them. usually, he wouldn't want to relive that part of him. losing excitement for tennis over the years due to all the stress but with you it's different. you look at him so earnestly and seem in awe of all his games, even the ones where he can still hear tashi in his head telling him what he did wrong. but it doesn't feel the same when he finds you watching one of patrick and him. jealousy quickly bubbles up inside him as worried thoughts start to come through. what if you think patrick is better? what if you enjoy watching him? what if patrick somehow takes this from him too? so when he sinks beside you on the couch you can see and feel the difference. he's not wearing his usual excited smile, his hand grips your thigh more firmly than usual, and there's a certain look in his eye. he tells you he doesn't want you watching patrick or any of his past games with them. it doesn't take much for you to agree. 

-☕(also i am honored to have inspired the post and i do remember the dark days where we had a text limit lol)

its so different because patrick its a turn on - he wants you to tell him how hot you find his friend while your pussy bounces on his dick. "you're so fucking greedy. this pussy just wants dick, huh -" he doesn't consider it a threat at all, knows by the squeeze of your cunt and the way you'd rather drink his cum down than water, you're not going anywhere, so if you want to fantasize about his good ol' buddy back in the day, go ahead. you just have to warm his big cock while you do it.

and art.... well his inadequacy issues are never leaving. though you can't help the way you like the way art fucks you when hes jealous. especially where patrick is concerned - he makes you turn the match off and then he turns you over, bends you over the armrest and pushes in - hard and hot - fucks you like he's punishing you, with thunderous slams of his hips against your ass. hand fisted in your hair, "tell me how much you love this -" there's a hint of desperation behind it, a plead more than a command. its easy to reassure him, moaning your assent, yes you love this, you love him, you love it so much art, you love his fat cock in your little pussy - where patrick is concerned, against his better judgment, art always rises to the competition.

[makismei]

(18+ somewhere randomly near the end bc my pussy took over) it is currently 2:57am and while i was writing an upcoming fic, i suddenly thought of nanami, as your underclassman at jujutsu high... not proofread (possibly incoherent) i am sorry i finished at 5am

he's two years younger than you, but he's been enamoured by you since he spoke to you back when he was sixteen on your eighteenth birthday, hosted at gojo's condo.

almost everyone was drunk, courtesy of shoko managing to get her hands on bottles of tequila and vodka. you were barely tispy, finding a completely sober nanami stuck to a wall with his eyebrows pulled together. he doesn't like it here. he wants to go home. but this is what being a teenager is like... right?

through flashing lights and loud music, you told him that cherishing your youth goes beyond what he's seeing before his eyes.

with you being a third year, he rarely saw you at the school. up close, he realizes how beautiful you are and that your perfume suits you so well.

"being a child is just fine," you say, as if you aren't only two years older. "you have your whole life to experience partying."

you end up outside on the balcony, talking all night about anything and everything.

and nanami learns, at sixteen, what uncontrollably clammy hands feel like, stuttering over simple words and the desperation for more of your presence.

since that night, he looks for you on campus when you are between missions. in the beginning, he couldn't find the courage to start conversation, but slowly, it starts to come to him easy.

over the years, he's seen you introduce your older boyfriends to your friends. he's also seen you get your heartbroken because the men that you chose to love were straight up losers.

what is he to do? clearly, you have a type and it's not him. although, he is confident he can treat you far better.

you like dark hair and tattoos, "manly" looking men but they don't even hold the door for you. what the hell is wrong with you? nanami swears, if he was yours, you'd never look back.

nanami is freshly nineteen, listening to you talk to shoko and utahime about how relationships are no longer worth your time. something inside of him feels disgusting because you're pouring your heart out and god, he just thinks you're so beautiful.

when he confesses to you for the first time, he is twenty-one and it's winter. it's been three years since your last relationship and you haven't pursued another since. he knows it's a long shot, but he goes for it anyways.

you smile, hand on his arm, "you deserve better than me, kento. but thank you, truly. i'm flattered you think of me so highly."

nanami raises a brow, "who doesn't?"

you're halfway into your door, smiling sadly. "you'd be surprised."

six months later, you're in cahoots with a horrible man and nanami thinks he's going to go bald early. why do you do this to yourself????

since his confession, he's tried to be mindful so he doesn't make you uncomfortable. but in the most friendship way possible, he tries to show you there are men (meaning: him, he is best fit for you) that are willingly to love you the way you deserve (him).

you, on the other hand, are biting your nails as far as you can, you cannot be catching feelings for nanami kento? you've never seen him in a romantic light, even after he confessed, but recently there has to be something poisonous in the air.

you blocked that douchebag two days ago because talking to him makes you feel disgusting. but you think you might unblock him to save nanami.

nanami cannot be yours, sure he's younger than you and you swore you would never date a younger man because they're so "immature", but nanami is a good... mature person. he is honest and hardworking, growing into his features and in turn, becoming more handsome as the years go by.

you'd be lying if you weren't jealous thinking about the woman that he would call his one day.

you think it's for the better. nanami cannot get caught up with your antics. he's really only seen the good sides and the thought of him seeing your bad sides makes you nauseous. he'd hate you, for sure. then what would you do?

but it doesn't matter, you don't even like him like that! but he's such a good friend you can't fathom the thought of ruining your friendship.

but what if he gets a girlfriend? you're pacing back and forth in your living room, obviously you can't be close with him anymore because that is just so suspicious.

oh my god. you're spiralling.

what do you do? you call nanami.

you tell him everything and more, that you're sorry, that you might be confused but your gut is telling you otherwise. you cry on the phone to him because you're at a loss and you feel so guilty.

nanami does not say a word or make a sound.

until, you hear a knock on your door through the phone and in real life.

"will you let me see you?" he asks, desperate. "i need to see you."

"you had me waiting for so long." he mutters, hips swinging into yours. he has you in a mating press, forehead pressed against yours. "am i making you feel good, beautiful? tell me."

you nod, legs quivering at his sides. "you're so good—i.. i think i'm gonna cum again!"

he shushes you, kissing you so deeply your mind goes blank. he starts thrusting harder and your mind is so mushy you can't even kiss him back. nanami groans, this can't be real. you feel so good that he might get addicted.

he can't let you go now that he's had a taste. he's not letting you go.

you love him. you told him in a panic over the phone.

you love him.

he needs you wholeheartedly and even though he had to wait almost eight years, he would gladly wait another eight years because if it's not you, it's no one. over the years he's loved you one-sidedly, he did a lot of thinking.

a silly high school crush ended up swallowing him whole. he was searching for you in all the blind dates gojo made him go on because gojo was convinced he was cooked and that you would not like him back.

so to see gojo's jaw dropping when you kissed nanami on the lips in the jujutsu tech courtyard, made his heart swell.

he was always yours.

you think that maybe, you've loved nanami for longer than you've thought.

"thanks for waiting for me." you breathe, "i'll make you happy."

nanami smiles, "you will always make me happy."

[atlantahammy]

Hamato Clan Pallets | So, part 2 of my project I started because I noticed a number of the colors from @pluvionpc's color pallets were Season 1 exclusives, or were tinted by the scene color overlay and thus not the true bases. (No offense to you man, you did what you could and without them, this wouldn't exist) The purple dragons were surprisingly hard to get colors for, because they only appear, in light / neutral lighting, in 1 episode of the 3 they appear in, either dark in the next or on a screen. That and I kept fucking up the pallets with errors, can ask those in @elliwoods Bean Server... There was screaming and crying into 2 AM as I live-blogged spotting the errors, after dropping it there like... 6 fuckin' times and dying each time I saw a new one. /rage.

I maaaay have psyched myself out a bit on Big Mama's spider form pallet because I thought it was going to be painful... It wasn't, It was easy, and the fastest, I got it done in less than an hour.

Also, fun fact, Big Mama's Spider form is one of the few whose mouth gets colored in black. She also seems to have 2 web colors, that purple, and the silvery purple that is her human form's hair color.

Sunita was also pretty easy, as she's one of the few characters that have had their turn around posted, that I could pull base colors from, even from her Googlyschootz sheet, which has the opacity effect (I think it is around 80% or 90%)

On that note, Sunita still has the default mouth colors, but they're layered on top of her green color + opacity lowered.

Fun fact: Sunita inadvertently confirms that while 'Yokai' is the general term for all the "mythical's" (IE: Like ''Humans") in the world, they all do have individual names, IE: She and her dad are Googlyschootz. (Also the fact I had to go to the transcript to get her race name, instead of it being listed under trivia on her wiki page, greatly irritates me.)

Drax's villain armor was... Easier than I thought, I kept procrastinating on it because I thought it would end me out of frustration and it would end up being bigger than it was... Though it is clear his design had a few color changes before the show aired by all early art being all colored differently.

I also didn't do Huginn and Muninn with Drax's as I gave Mayhem is own, might as well give the two their own pallet too.

———————————– My Commissions | .Carrd | Ko-Fi

[angstigone]

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 (𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩)

the title is a lyric from 'enter sandman' by metallica

𝗥𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗠𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗔𝗨)

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

before going any further I'd like to tell y'all that this might be turned into a series if I feel like it and if you'd like to see more, pls don't forget to comment and reblog especially. such a thing always has me reading and writing faster and better!

(also this is based on a low key true story - not having an hot neighbor - but me being unable to sleep).

have a nice day!

SUMMARY: there's something sketchy from the apartment beside your own, with a child constantly wailing. when you finally get to confront your neighbor you find that he's tall, big and especially... hot.

«… I am your… neighbor». «I could have gathered that» he commented grumpily and flashing you a sharp smile.  Shit, his canines were… quite sharp.  You wondered briefly whether he went around ripping people’s throat with those, as dread set in your gut. Maybe he was just a serial killer who used children’s cries to prey upon his victims and you were there - sleep deprived and in a Mermaid Melody pajama - looking death in the face. «… saw you around».

WARNINGS: suggestive (sukuna makes some sexual jokes to reader), this is just banter, I had such a fun time with them bantering, modern au, afab character, she/her pronouns, pre-relationship, getting together, baby yuji being the fussiest baby ever, slight angst towards yuji's family situation, sukuna is a wrestler.

To say that sleep didn’t come easy to you would be an understatement.

As a light sleeper living in a crappy apartment complex on the middle floor, you were either startled awake by the early morning maintenance work or the crazy lady one floor above you who didn’t understand that she’d have saved up on neighborly glares if she had only finally gotten some hearing aids instead of blasting her TV at full volume either late in the night or early in the morning.

As if this situation wasn’t traumatic enough, somebody moved in the apartment next door and while the previous inhabitants had been students with a poor taste in music and too little money for good alcohol, you were by now sure that the fussiest baby in the whole world had moved in their place.

Everytime you came back home, he’d wail for a few hours - preferably late in the night - till you heard an ushering voice cursing underneath his breath in a clear indication of frustration.

Well, if his father was frustrated, you were ten times more and a bit worried: what could make a child cry so much? 

Was it possible that despite the good reputation of the neighbor, somebody a bit… sketchy had moved?

The thought had you shuddering but your common sense was definitely weakened by the lack of sleep you had gotten since the wailing child had moved next door and you thought to confront the situation.

If anything to assure herself that you had at least tried. 

You struggled with confrontation although - on the card at least - you were a fully grown adult and such an action would get you so many points with your therapist, although you needed a good pep talk and the reward of a steaming cup of hot cocoa in the morning before you brought yourself to knock on your neighbor’s door at one a.m. in the night.

You heard a curse and thought for a moment to bolt and blame it on the musician a few floors above who’d come late through the night from his ‘concerts’ - a pitiful ensemble of ten people, half of which his family, in a less than proper bar - but you eventually thought to hold your ground. 

You were in the right: a few days of crying were normal especially with a younger child but it was by now a few weeks not to talk about the fact that it was past twelve and according to the apartment’s reglementations - which you hadn’t ever read but searched out to assure yourself you’d be in the right - it was by far an infringement of the laws against loud nois…

«What is it?».

You shouldn’t have been so taken aback by the rudeness with which you were greeted as a mountain of a man showed up, opening the door only halfway and regarding you in the - less than flattering - light of the hallway. 

You realized only then that maybe showing up in your comfy pajama hadn’t been the best idea but it’d have been weird if you showed up fully clothed for work, wouldn’t it?

«Ahem… good… good morrow…» where was the whole discourse you had rehearsed while staring at the roof of your bedroom while the damned child kept on crying in the room right next to your own. 

Or so it seemed.

«… I am your… neighbor».

«I could have gathered that» he commented grumpily and flashing you a sharp smile. 

Shit, his canines were… quite sharp. 

You wondered briefly whether he went around ripping people’s throat with those, as dread set in your gut. Maybe he was just a serial killer who used children’s cries to prey upon his victims and you were there - sleep deprived and in a Mermaid Melody pajama - looking death in the face.

«… saw you around».

Well, you hadn’t, and you doubted that you wouldn’t have noticed a man that was past six foot, with bright pink hair and a body that had you feeling things, that weren’t just fear and unease. 

At least, you’d die horny, you had to admit.

«Oh» you shifted awkwardly thinking that it wasn’t too late to simply move back and pretend such a conversation hadn’t happened. 

He might be thinking it was a whole dream when the cries quadrupled in intensity and you inwardly cringed as a buddy headache pressed on your temples. 

Still, it had you regaining your strength and determination: this dude might be a serial killer, but you’d have committed a murder if he didn’t quieten the piercing noise.

«… listen, I don’t mean to… prod into your business…».

«Then don’t» he said, crossing his arms over his chest for a brief moment, before his hand went to the handle of his door, obviously intent on closing it «… it’s one a.m. in the late night. Some people do intend to sleep».

The slightly haughty tone - as if you were the one that made it impossible for this entire floor to sleep - was enough to send precaution to the wind as you adjusted your posture and came closer to the threshold of the apartment to block him from closing the door.

«Listen, whoever you are, I fucking need you to send that baby to sleep».

You expected, once your crass words left your mouth, to be at the very least flipped off because if this man seemed true to his own nature - a tatted body and crazy light in his marron eyes - he’d have at the very least cared little about your comment.

Still, it had you feeling lightly although it didn’t help with the noise in the slightest as the cries went further.

And yet, the man didn’t usher you away - nor threaten you - as a slight tired light shone in his eyes while he ducked his head low but for a moment of weakness, pushing his hands from the crossed hold over his chest onto his hips and squaring up, defensively.

«… if only it was that fucking easy».

«I do believe that it can’t be, but…» but had it been you, you’d have tried everything in the book - and on the Internet - to quieten a fussy child, while weeks were passing by and the sole improvement you got was wearing your noise canceling handcuffs throughout your nightly routine «… if I go another night without sleep, I swear that I’ll finally kill that bitch of Mark from accounting».

Although you were sure you might have sounded like a crazy person to anybody else, the man in front of you cackled at your bluntness and you should have definitely taken this as a sign that he wasn’t mentally stable.

«You think you are the only one who hasn’t been sleeping, sweetheart?» oh not the condescending petname that had you lightly clutching your thighs, and hadn’t you been sure that it was a trick of the light, you’d have believed he had noticed it much to your shame «… you don’t fucking live with the little screecher gobling».

«I live right next door and the walls might as well not exist» you protested not wanting to transform this into a pity competition.

«… well, they do exist or things would be funnier».

Had this arrogant asshole had the audacity to check you out? 

In your Mermaid Melody pajama? 

You were unable to fluster at the intensity of his gaze although you were quick to pout for his further amusement as he added.

«… I know that you won’t believe me, but… I have fucking tried anything. It’s like that fucking goblin has been set into crying mode since birth with no button to switch him off or lower the volume».

Well, if that wasn’t bad news and probably noticing your less than enthusiastic face the potential serial killer shot you a bawdy look:

«Want to have a go at trying to pacify him?».

«Well, it can’t be worse certainly».

You had meant it sarcastically, although again the lack of a filtering system between your brain and mouth due to your sleepy mind was enough was enough that the man grabbed your wrist - much to your protests, although you were aware that you were the soles ones on this floor and you doubted that anybody would have heard you in the floor above as they were all sleeping soundly - and brought you inside, closing the door behind you.

«Hey!» that’s how you died, because you had been a noisy neighbor. It seemed like the start of an Agatha Christie book and that was your sole consolation «… don’t… don’t fucking manhandle me!».

And you were far more startled when he was quick to release you at once as if burned by your genuine fear as he huffed lightly waiting for you to follow him as he set his marron eyes upon you with an hand on his hip, as a bothered mother waiting for her uncollaborative toddler. It definitely felt insulting and it did work in goading you to follow after him as you took notice of a tiny but cozy apartment.

Serial killers weren’t definitely ever what you expected.

«… maybe he needs a woman touch» your neighbor muttered as he came to an halt to a second bedroom - you had passed by his own on the house tour, noticing no dark walls nor altairs to some forgotten divitiny to which you’d be sacrificed later - as he opened it to reveal an actual child sleeping in an appropriate crib with also a fish-shaped lamp holder still lighted up as the child fussed around.

Although that little shit was the reason why you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in the past few days, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench at the sight, as he obviously looked at discomfort and then an idea passed your mind while you turned accusingly towards your neighbor:

«Did you… did you kidnap him?».

It was the sole solution, although you did notice that the baby and him shared the same soft tuft of pink hair.

«What?!» he seemed so offended that you thought you’d be pushed out of the house with a single shove «Fuck no!».

«That’s what a kidnapper would say!».

«If I had to actually kidnap a child, it wouldn’t be the one that can’t keep his mouth shut» well, that wasn’t ominous in the slightest although the man’s quiet rage turned into something different as he passed an hand on the back of his head as if to pacify himself «… it’s my brother’s child. His wife is… she is not doing well… gave birth to the child and is now in the hospital. He’s staying with her and he, obviously, had me babysit it!«.

«That’s now an ‘it’» you felt offense on the child’s part «… that’s your nephew!».

«Tomato, tomato» your neighbor promptly shot back «… alright, want to have a go or are you just satisfied with having cleared up that I am not a child kidnapper?».

«The jury is still out on that one» you humored him although you did believe this weird stranger with arms that could easily choke you was the child’s nephew since as the baby was within your sight you could see the similarities «… can I… can I pick him up?».

Although he might not be a kidnapper, you still thought it’d be rude to pick up the sweet child - when he wasn’t busy wailing he was quite cute - without the adult’s consent, although you received a simple grumble of assent as the sole answer and you moved to gently cradle the child in your arms, startled by the sudden realization that you hadn’t ever hold a baby.

Professionally.

Cousins and siblings had been passed around to you but you hadn’t ever taken care of a baby with the closest being when you had babysat a few neighbor children through a date their parents had gone on ‘to save the marriage’. 

Code for they were swingers who needed a night out and for their children not to know.

So, you couldn’t help but tense up immediately as you reminded yourself to hold the frail neck, while your eyes shot out to the one of the other adult in the room who didn’t seem to have any sarcastic comments for you especially as the child’s loud waning seemed to become far stiller till it became a soft breath.

«How the fuck…».

«Don’t curse in front of the child» one moment with that child and you were already feeling protective of his scrunched up eyebrows and sweet nose «… and I have no clue! I haven’t ever taken care of children that are so little!».

«… well, for a first-timer you are a miracle worker» the pink haired man commented, as he looked down at his nephew «… he never went under that swiftly».

A moment of silence - an awkward one - passed that you took as your cue to leave and go to your bed now that the little threat had been subdued, thinking that it had been a simple chance. Still, the moment that you made to lay down the baby in the crib it started fussing again and threatened to use his powerful lungs again.

«Shit» you cursed as the other man sent you a slight smirk before mouthing “don’t curse in front of the child” «… what… what are we going to do?».

«You have to hold him still he falls further asleep» well, thank you captain Obvious.

«I can’t» not only your arms would have fallen asleep but eventually the child would have realized that you weren’t… well, you weren’t his mother nor an angel. Or a miracle worker.

«Don’t tell me that you have plans right at…» and he shot a look at his watch «… one and half in the morning on a lovely Tuesday night?».

«Aside from being in my bed and sleeping without a wailing baby?» you shoved back the sarcasm as you also cringed at the realization that already half an hour had passed in what you had perceived as being such a little time «… not really, no. Thank you for asking, though».

«Listen…».

Although he had been but a cocky arrogant asshole, your neighbor finally broke his pretense as he pushed his hands in the hair promptly mushing it all up in an adorable mop that mirrored the one on the child’s head. 

They were relatives without a doubt.

«… this is… this is the first time… in days… that he stops crying so… I’d… I’d appreciate it if you could stay… at least half an hour. The morning coffee is onto me».

«I don’t drink coffee» whether it was true or not, you were delighted in his surprised expression although you quickly surrendered to his idea. 

Not that you were any eager to spend the time with him, no matter the fact that past the threatening appearance he was quite handsome, in a ruggish way that was simply aided by the fact that he took care of his nephew.

«… but alright. I guess… not that I have much choice».

«If your arms fall asleep, let me know, I’ll switch you for a bit» well, wasn’t he thoughtful and also quickly sufficing you with a chair as you adjusted the child swiftly in your arms to be a bit more comfortable and he hadn’t yet stirred «… by the way… not that this can’t get any more awkward, but I am Ryomen… Sukuna… and this is Yuji, my nephew».

«Lovely to meet you, Yuji» you acknowledged just the child while a light huff of annoyance appeared right on his face «… I am…».

«Nice to meet you, neighbor» it was probably the nicest he had ever been, although the asshole held out his hand quickly daring a look at you holding his nephew as if he expected you to do the two things at once «… saw you around».

«You have already said it, and it doesn’t make you sound any less creepy» you ushered back «… do you make it a habit to lure women into your cave with your cute nephew?».

«Not really» again that shitty smirk that made him at least ten times more attractive «… you are the first one falling for it».

«Haha».

«… in all truth, he is more of a huge cockblock» he went onto adding «… can’t bring women home if he’s all whiny».

«You shouldn’t bring women home at all, with a child!» you were probably the least proper person to give indications about being a parent, still, it felt quite obvious «… please tell me that you have other relatives that can take care of Yuji».

«Obviously if the burden has befallen onto my shoulder it can’t be that way» his grin was slightly more grim and bitter and you did feel a bit guilty at the suggestion «… my grandpa is a bit too tired to raise another child after my brother and me, especially»,

«Can’t blame him».

«And my brother’s wife’s family isn’t that near to Tokyo, so I am forced to take a break from fighting till Kaori gets better or that spineless of Jin gets a grip» he added harshly, as your mind zeroed on a thought.

«You… you fight?» oh that was definitely going to go well.

«Professionally, sweetheart» oh the patronizing petnames how little you had missed them «… you have in front of you one of the best wrestlers in all Japan. Used to be the champion of my category…».

«And then what happened? Broke a leg and that’s your villain origin story?» no way you’d have stroked this man’s ego, although this explained his huge muscles.

«You are a smartass, aren’t you?» he shouted back less amused «… maybe that’s why you get along with the shithead in your hold».

«Would it kill you to be nice to your blood relative?».

«Would it kill you to chill out?» he shot back as you simply regarded him with sarcasm.

«It’s the lack of sleep».

He grimaced letting you have the last laugh.

 For the moment.

An awkward silence filled in as you couldn’t help but feel like maybe the banter - and the patronizing pet names - had decidedly been better than the awkwardness that spread especially as Yuji lightly fussed in your arms, turning onto his stomach adorably as he smushed himself into you.

«He tends to sleep a lot on his stomach, like Jin» you were startled by the slight fondness that filled Sukuna’s voice as you saw a tiny bit of affection «… this also means that when he farts and you are nearby to check onto him you get hit by a deathly gas».

«You are downright horrible».

«Ever been farted by a baby?» you shook your head «… then you can’t talk».

«I am holding your baby» and then swiftly realizing what you had said, you added «… I mean… well, I… oh well, I mean your brother’s baby».

Another silence threatened to loom onto the two of you as he begrudgingly spoke again.

«… what… what about you?» and at your confused look he added «… what do you do?».

«Research» you explained briefly unsure whether to give the story of your life to this weird stranger who got you flustered and annoyed «… library systems and such and before you say, I am - indeed - a nerd».

«I was going to ask whether you were a sexy librarian or a regular one considering what I have seen you wearing» you risked jostling poor Yuji at the startle due to his bold words.

«I am a boring librarian» you shut him down promptly, although he had by now noticed your embarrassment and was smirking openly «… and don’t try to make fun of it, full-time nanny».

That got him exasperated.

«… I told Jin it’s only temporary! A few months!».

«Whatever makes you sleep at night» you said without thinking at your words and lightly laughing at them, alongside Sukuna, only realizing right now that throughout this conversation your whole body had relaxed and although Yuji was starting to become heavy in your arms, your hold on him felt… natural.

«By the way» you were startled by the terrifying news that you were starting to fall for this ‘concerned uncle’ facade «… are you sure you never held a child? I… I’d say you are a natural».

«Is that you way of recruiting me as your personal nanny?» you retorted, a bit flustered by the praise.

«I could pay you good» he went onto commenting as you raised an eyebrow.

«I don’t take payment in nature».

«It shows» your ears felt heated as you fixed him an angry glare «… what? Just saying you are so wound up, pretty girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if you just needed…».

«Little ears are listening to us!» you protested promptly, going to gently cover Yuji’s ears «… God, he has no chance with such an uncle».

«I am actually the fun uncle, I’ll have you know!».

And your whole night proceeded like this, and although you were tired, slightly irritated and with a heavy baby - what did Sukuna make him eat? - in your arm, for the first night in weeks you fell asleep right on the chair with your neighbor plucking Yuji from your arms to set him in the crib again. 

By now the child had fallen deeply asleep and he didn’t startle. 

Neither did you when Sukuna adjusted a blanket around your shoulders as he wasn’t sure whether you’d be able to walk back home although your apartments were one against the other.

And you looked far too peaceful in your slumber, compared to the harshness that marred your features through your verbal spar. 

Not that he minded, though. If anything, it was almost… reinvigorating to talk with somebody who could hold up his barbed wire, after having to deal with his nephew for the entirety of the day.

He gently shot Yuji one more look as he went to go to his own bedroom not wishing to startle either of you.“You scored a cute one, nephew” he muttered amusedly “... can’t believe that this is what I have been brought to do to get a girl’s attention”.

credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[estapa-edwards]

hughes sister who plays for the rnagers and falls in love with matt especially as she sees hwo sweet he is off the ice and hate how the media makes him look like an ass. matt who quickly falls for her, he stays with her when he gets called up to the rangers

ALWAYS - M. REMPE

paring: Matt Rempe x reader

word count: 2k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Y/N Hughes had always been the odd one out in her family. Her brothers, Jack, Quinn, and Luke, were all renowned hockey players, carving their names in the NHL history books. Y/N, on the other hand, was also a hockey player, but she was making waves in her own right as one of the few women in the sport to play in the NHL, proudly representing the New York Rangers.

Her journey hadn’t been easy, facing skepticism and doubt at every turn. But Y/N had her brothers' unwavering support and her own determination to prove the doubters wrong. And so, she had become a formidable presence on the ice, known for her agility and sharp instincts.

Yet, even in the bustling world of professional hockey, fate had a way of introducing unexpected twists.

Her latest task was scouting new talent, and that’s how she found herself at a Hartford Wolf Pack game, keeping an eye on Matt Rempe.

Matt was known for his size and physicality, a giant on the ice with a reputation to match. The media often painted him as the enforcer, someone who used his fists more than his skills. But as Y/N watched him play, she saw something different. His movements were calculated, his plays strategic. He had a grace that belied his imposing figure.

After the game, Y/N decided to introduce herself. She found Matt in the locker room, his tall frame hunched over as he unlaced his skates. She took a deep breath and approached him.

“Hey, Matt. Great game out there,” she said with a warm smile.

Matt looked up, slightly surprised. “Y/N Hughes, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come down and check out your game. You were impressive.”

He shook her hand, his grip firm but not overwhelming. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t know you were with the Rangers now. How are Quinn, Jack, and Luke?”

“They're doing great. Busy with their own seasons,” Y/N said. “But let's talk about you. I’ve been watching your progress and I think you’ve got a lot more to offer than what the media shows.”

Matt’s smile widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Thanks. It’s frustrating sometimes, being seen only as the enforcer.”

“I can imagine,” Y/N said. “But from what I saw tonight, you’re a lot more than that. You’ve got some serious skills out there.”

“Appreciate that, really,” Matt replied. “It’s nice to hear.”

--- --- --- 

Y/N and Matt kept in touch after that initial meeting. They talked about everything: hockey, life, their families. Y/N found herself looking forward to their conversations, intrigued by the man behind the tough exterior. Matt, too, found himself drawn to Y/N’s intelligence and kindness.

One evening, after a particularly grueling game, Matt invited Y/N out for coffee. They sat in a cozy corner of a small café, the warmth and aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding them. The bustling noise of the city outside was a stark contrast to the intimate bubble they had created.

“I hate how the media portrays you,” Y/N admitted, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. “They make you out to be this brute, but you’re so much more than that.”

Matt sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes focused on the steam rising from his cup. “It’s frustrating, but I try not to let it get to me. I know who I am, and the people who matter know too.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes reflecting empathy and understanding. “It’s just unfair. They don’t see the person I see. The one who’s thoughtful and strategic on the ice, and kind off it.”

Matt's gaze softened as he looked at her. “You really see all that?”

“I do,” Y/N said, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re an amazing player and an even more amazing person.”

Matt reached across the table, taking her hand in his. The touch was warm, grounding. “And I think you’re pretty amazing too, Y/N. You’ve accomplished so much, breaking barriers and proving everyone wrong.”

A soft blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks. “It hasn’t been easy, but it’s worth it. And having people like you who believe in me makes it all the better.”

Matt smiled, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “You make it sound so simple, but I know it’s not. You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than most people I know.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing second. The café around them buzzed with life, but it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“What’s your favorite part of playing in the NHL?” Matt asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N thought for a moment, her eyes distant. “Honestly, it’s the feeling of belonging. Growing up, I always felt like I had to prove myself, even to my own family. But now, when I step on the ice, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. It’s empowering.”

Matt nodded, understanding completely. “I get that. For me, it’s the camaraderie. The team becomes your family. And even though the media focuses on the rough side of the game, there’s so much more to it. The friendships, the trust, the mutual respect.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “That’s what I love about you, Matt. You see the bigger picture. You’re not just a player; you’re a teammate, a friend.”

Matt felt his heart swell with emotion. “And you’re not just a player either, Y/N. You’re a trailblazer, an inspiration. I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too,” Y/N replied softly, her eyes locking with his. “I feel like I can be myself around you. No pretense, no expectations. Just me.”

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Matt said, his voice barely above a whisper.

--- --- --- 

As their friendship blossomed, so did Matt’s career. He was called up to the Rangers, a momentous occasion that he wanted to share with Y/N. They celebrated together at a small bistro near Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the news still buzzing in the air.

“I knew you had it in you,” Y/N said, hugging him tightly. Her eyes sparkled with pride and genuine happiness for him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Matt replied, his voice filled with emotion. He held her a moment longer, feeling the warmth and sincerity of her support.

They settled into a booth, ordering their favorite dishes and a bottle of celebratory champagne. As they waited for their food, they talked about the journey that had brought them to this point.

“It feels surreal,” Matt admitted, toying with his fork. “Just a few months ago, I was grinding it out with the Wolf Pack, and now I’m here, in New York, with the Rangers.”

“You deserve it, Matt. You’ve worked so hard,” Y/N said, her eyes fixed on his. “And you’re going to do great things here. I just know it.”

Matt looked at her, his heart swelling with gratitude. “You’ve always believed in me, Y/N. Even when I doubted myself, you were there, cheering me on.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Y/N said, her smile soft and warm. “And besides, you’ve always been there for me too.”

The night continued with laughter and stories, both of them reveling in the moment. As the evening drew to a close, Matt walked Y/N back to her apartment. The city lights cast a soft glow over them, the hum of traffic a comforting backdrop.

“Thanks for tonight, Y/N. It meant a lot to me,” Matt said as they reached her door.

“It was my pleasure,” Y/N replied, giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Get some rest, Matt. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

--- --- --- 

In the following weeks, Matt adjusted to life with the Rangers. The pace was faster, the competition fiercer, but he thrived under the pressure. And through it all, Y/N was there, her unwavering support a constant source of strength for him.

Their friendship deepened, the line between friends and something more blurring with each passing day. They spent more time together, exploring the city, sharing meals, and confiding in each other about their hopes and fears.

One evening, after a particularly tough game, Matt found himself at Y/N’s apartment. She had insisted he come over, offering her company and a home-cooked meal as a remedy for his rough day.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Matt said, looking at the spread of food on the table.

“I wanted to,” Y/N replied, handing him a plate. “You’ve had a long day. You deserve a break.”

As they ate, they talked about the game, the highs and lows, and their dreams for the future. The conversation flowed easily, their connection deepening with each shared word.

After dinner, they moved to the couch, a comfortable silence settling between them. Y/N turned on the TV, flipping through channels until she found a movie they both liked.

“Thanks for being here, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Matt said, his voice soft in the dim light of the living room.

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling with affection. “You’d do just fine, Matt. But I’m glad I can be here for you.”

They sat together, side by side, the movie playing in the background. Slowly, almost tentatively, Matt reached out and took Y/N’s hand in his. She glanced at him, a soft smile playing on her lips, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

--- --- --- 

As the months passed, the bond between Y/N and Matt grew stronger. They supported each other through the highs and lows, finding strength in their friendship. But it was clear to both of them that their feelings had evolved into something deeper.

One evening, after a particularly exciting game, Matt invited Y/N out to celebrate. They went to the same café where they had shared their first coffee date, reminiscing about their journey.

“I’ve been thinking,” Matt began, his heart pounding. “We’ve been through so much together, and I feel like...”

“Like what?” Y/N prompted gently, her eyes locked onto his.

“Like I’ve fallen for you, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not just my best friend. You’re the person I want to be with.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening with surprise and joy. “I’ve fallen for you too, Matt. I’ve been afraid to admit it, but I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Matt reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Then let’s be together. Not just as friends, but as something more.”

As Matt's words hung in the air, charged with emotion and vulnerability, Y/N felt her heart swell with joy and anticipation. She had hoped for this moment, dreamed of it even, but to hear Matt express his feelings so openly stirred something deep within her.

With tears of happiness glistening in her eyes, Y/N leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Matt's hand tightened around hers as their lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a moment of pure connection, a silent promise of the love that had blossomed between them.

The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss. There was no need for words, no need for explanations. In that moment, everything they needed to say was conveyed through the gentle press of lips, the warmth of their embrace.

As they pulled away, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over her. She looked into Matt's eyes, seeing the reflection of her own feelings mirrored back at her.

"I love you, Matt," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity and affection.

"I love you too, Y/N," Matt replied, his voice soft but unwavering. "Always."

[oddaesthetin]

3:56 am — gojo satoru

————

“you know, i find that you’re actually quite easy to understand,” you muttered out of the blue, enigmatically, not even bothering to spare him a glance, and continued in whatever you were doing.

you saw him straighten up in your periphery.

“and by easy to understand, what do you mean exactly?”

“in a way where i know you prefer ice cream sandwiches more than ice cream cakes. or how your favorite song is shame on me by avicii because you think it reflects your life,” you stood up straight and looked at him for a second, completely ignoring what you were doing as you delved into thinking deeper. “i also know, and you’ll probably deny this, that your favourite flower is red and purple chrysanthemum because you find them vibrant and fluffy.”

the last statement reminding you of that one instance when you saw him get absolutely enticed upon seeing the flower. how he tried to fight off the intrusivity of squeezing them just to see whether they’d remain fluffy or not but failing miserably, and how his eyes got a tint of sadness when he saw the flowers crushed down to pieces. that one instance you see happen time and time again whenever he gets ahold of them.

hearing the last statement made satoru pout. not that you’ve noticed, as you went back to being engrossed in your project.

“i mean, i completely get the rationale behind that. maybe since people think you’re the strongest, or maybe since you grew up silver-spooned, it’s quite unlikely for people to assume that you’re no different at all from the rest. perhaps that thought is what makes it easy for them to separate you so they could look up to you.”

when silence engulfed the place, your eyes immediately went to the white-haired brute at the corner. although there was a distance between where you were both standing, it wasn’t as hard to notice the soft smile playing on his lips.

at the back of his mind, satoru is praying you wouldn’t see how much he cares about this conversation so much. it’s not so often you get to have these kinds of conversations, but when you do, he adores it dearly. somehow, you always find a new way to tug his heart and mind.

he deliberately tried to fix his shades in an attempt to also hide the soft glaze his eyes bore.

“just because you know my favourite things does not make me easy to understand.” he disagreed, amidst the reddening of both his ears.

like how you get ignorantly confident from time to time, you shook your head as you answered, “but for me, you are. it’s exactly because i know you. and i’ve known you for years now. i’ve noticed your habits…how you think…they’re engraved in my mind.”

how sometimes he says something that’s exactly the opposite of what he’s thinking.

“besides, just because i think you’re easy to understand does not mean you’re not a complex person.”

how he so desperately wants to be normal and yet never wants to give up his ideals that are always adding to his hurt and burden. you saw him move from where he initially was.

“i think that all these is what makes you comforting.”

“i’m comforting?”

you raised your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “yes. to put it in easier words, you’re kinda like a close friend at a bad dinner party.”

satoru laughed. “a close friend at the dinner party, huh? what got me demoted?”

of course, satoru knows what you mean. he’s known you just as much as you’ve known him. and it makes his heart swell hearing you talk about his habits he never thought you’d take time to memorize and analyze because truthfully, no one has made an effort as deep as you did for him. when he’s with you, he feels like a common person. never having to be the strongest. never having to be gojo satoru. when he’s with you, he feels just like…toru. your man, toru.

his life with you is both seeing and being seen. he remembers his younger self— how he was so confident that he had learned everything in this world and there was nothing left for him to learn. just that thought alone made him snicker because oh boy was he so wrong, for being with you helped him discover new things, and grow as a person in many ways than one. he feels like a kid who’s only experienced the world for the first time. a world where being flawed is not a flaw, but a reason to keep loving, without hesitation and reservations. where waking up is not a task, but a choice, because he gets so excited to see your face first things first, converse with you, and do life with you. you’re like the orange to his blue. you may both be at the opposite ends of the spectrum, but you do well at complementing each other.

what you both have is bigger than the world. too complicated to explain but very easy to embrace. it’s a new feeling he’s willing to explore even more.

when he shares a space with you, it’s like the roles have been reversed. instead of him protecting you, it’s you that’s giving him safety. like tonight. he doesn’t know how to explain all this to you without his heart exploding and his words turning gibberish, but he hoped you know. his words may not be as impactful, but he tries his best to show it.

you rolled your eyes at the statement, “it’s just a figure of speech, hun.”

your boyfriend giggled and walked even closer to you. you were about to welcome his stance when he stopped you and turned you around as he wrapped his arms around your body. “yeah, well, even if it’s theoretical, i still would like to be your boyfriend. or husband, even.”

“that’s…not how what i said works, toru.” you replied at his idiocy, stifling a laugh. as he buried his face in your neck, you softly ruffled his hair. when you felt his lips smack a kiss to your neck, a whisper of “i love you” entered your ears.

———-

hUEY LISTWN! this is a comfort piece i wrote for myself after the latest manga update so this might be a little cringe to som of you. this has been rotting in my notes 4 quite some time already but iv’e only gotten the confidence to share it now. if u liked it, tysm! we’ll survive the manga 2gether! 🥹🫵👯‍♀️

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

👇👇👇

👆👆👆

[dr-felitas]

╭──╯ TWO TRUTHS, ONE LIE

PAIRING: aventurine x reader

SYNOPSIS: in which you invite aventurine to play a drinking game with you: "two truths and one lie." it's an amusing game, what could possibly go wrong? that is until one can't distinguish between the truth and a lie.

wordcount: 1.8k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, drunk - not really drunk rather intoxicated confession? or drunk idk, alcohol, barely any metaphors - like little to none but more dialogue (i’ve improved..ig!!), the title basically says everything

AUTHORS NOTE: i needed to write something and its two almost three am, im dying. istg i pulled this out of my asscrack. So who am i to proofread?? also this is kinda similar, kinda (really) similar to my other fic. what if i cried. when writers block gets so bad you start copying yourself dawg

“it’ll be fun!” 

you blissfully cheer as you take out two shot glasses out of your cupboard before fetching a bottle of vodka and setting it down onto the big and fancy dining table that stands in the middle of your living room, a moving gift for your new apartment which you received from none other than aventurine. 

(he insisted that it’s a fitting gift for your new home - well it certainly didn’t fit well through your front door, only after a few tries from aventurines employees they managed to transport it inside your new apartment.) 

with quick movements, the blond grabs the transparent alcohol and pours the two of you a glass. “how gentlemanlike of you.” you comment, a pinch of teasing in your words as you let out a huff, smiling as you shake your head before sitting down, right in front of him. 

a faint laugh escapes aventurine's lips and he can only hum in delight as he slides over your glass from across the table. “so if i understood it right, you for an example, tell me one lie and two truths and if i were to guess them correctly, i as the victor get to see you, the loser drinking a shot?” he props his elbow onto the dining table before leaning his cheek into the palm of his left hand, curiously awaiting your answer.

your eyes gleam in excitement “bingo!” and he can’t help the smile that finds its way onto his face. “though we’re not gonna do it one go, we’ll have turns. for example, i start off by telling a lie and you guess if i was telling the truth or not, then it’s my turn to guess, then it’s yours again and so on.” 

you grab the glass from above and lazily twirl around the vodka. “how does that sound?” you tap your fingers around glass before slowly tracing the edges of your glass with your index finger in a languid motion. “is this a wager you’re willing to indulge in, mr. aventurine?” you smile. what a tease you are.

“sure, sure. i see no reason to decline your generous offer.” he returns your smile with one of his own, similar to the one he gives to his clients, polite and charming. “well then, it’s only natural for you as the guest to start, right?” you set your glass down and it makes a light “thump” sound. 

“how kind of you.” he looks down at the dining table, scanning the items with his eyes. a white tablecloth which is stained with some light brown-yellowish spots, probably from the times when you spilled coffee onto your table and weren’t able to properly wash them out. 

he hums as he taps his fingers against the hard surface of the table, deep in thought as if pondering what to say. “let’s start off with an easy one, the critters were a gift from the trailblazer.” a lie.

you’re quick to respond “that’s a lie. although you and the trailblazer get along well, they’ve never gifted you something like a pet. the person whom you received them from is veritas.” upon that aventurine can only give you a content smile before gulping his glass down in one go. 

“very well.” he praises you before opening the alcohol bottle and pouring him another glass, not once breaking eye contact as he shoots you a knowing look that says “your turn.”

unlike aventurine you don’t need a long time to think about what you’re going to say. “i used to like you a lot.” a partial lie - you still like him. 

“that’s a lie.” aventurine immediately points out, not even bothering to meet your gaze. can this be considered a rejection? technically you didn’t confess but you admitted your “former” feelings which he immediately denied as if he doesn’t want to have anything to do with them. in response you can only quickly down your glass, hoping that the alcohol would somehow help you. (does making you feel worse count as help?) 

he continues without any effort, simply just brushing off your admission from just now. “i get along well with topaz and veritas.” the truth.

your eyes that were on his once also glance down at the table as you bury your nails into the tablecloth. “that’s the truth.” you manage to choke out, there’s no way you’re going to start getting all emotional now and start sobbing and weeping, instead you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“although it sometimes gives the impression that you don't get along with either of them and the three of you are just acquainted with one another through work, they trust you a lot and also somewhat get along with you. for an example when topaz entrusted you with her cornerstone during your mission on penacony or as mentioned before when veritas gifted you the critters. he thought you’d take a liking to them. perhaps you’re not friends but at least reliable colleagues that trust each other.” you answer as you continue to dig your nails deeper into the piece of fabric.

“i should’ve known that this was too easy for you.” aventurine chuckles as he drinks the vodka out of the glass, not leaving a single drop behind. “okay, it’s your turn again.”

you can only hum in agreement before speaking up. “i have a high alcohol tolerance.” a lie, a big one at that.

a honeyed laugh meets your ears, the sound of sweet laughter makes you glance up again. aventurine’s laughing. how sweet, bittersweet even.

there were nights when you were curled up in your sheets, wishing that there was someone beside you and not just a cold and empty mattress; wishing that there was aventurine who was laying by your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears as one of his arms is draped around your torso, tracing shapes onto your soft skin and tickling you. you’d push him away and laugh at which he could also only laugh. 

laugh like this; laugh like right now.

the delicate and tender moments you yearn for more than anything else are like birds, as soon as you get close to them, they get scared, they flutter their wings and quickly fly away. before you’d ever have a chance with aventurine he’d always be out of your grasp - out of your reach. 

he’s free on his own, not bound to anything and anyone. not having someone to rely on and someone whom he always needs to worry about. someone who’d keep him caged like a bird with little and restricted or rather no freedom.

“why are you laughing?” you shoot him an offended glare as you part your lips at him, a small pout decorating your face. “why are you sulking?” he responds in a teasing tone, it’s supposed to be light hearted but there’s care that glimmers in his eyes. great, does he care about you now?

“i  am not sulking!” you huff as you try to hide your expression from him, putting your arms down the dining table and burying your head in between them. 

“oh you so are!” he laughs lightly.

“shut up ‘rine!” you groan from where you’re laying.

“fine, fine.” if you were to look up at him now, you’d see him admiring you and fondly smiling while looking at the back of your head.

“my answer is that that's a lie. a blatant massive lie! you have a low alcohol tolerance and are basically a lightweight. i mean just look at your face, your cheeks are flushed and so are your ears, they’re literally beet red.” he chuckles. 

you get up from your lying position and greet him with an annoyed look. quickly you grab your glass and gulp everything down to the last bit, eventually you wipe away the remnants that cling onto your skin with your arm before pouring yourself another drink and laying back down, so now you’re back to your previous position. 

“well, it’s my turn again. because I started off with an easy one, i’ll also end it with a simple and really easy one. I have a shopping addiction.” a lie.

“lie! You yell from your place. “what kind of lie is that even?” you complain to him. 

“i told you i’d end it with an easy one. but can you also tell me why it’s a lie?” he asks curiously.

“you’re not too fond of spending credits on materialistic stuff, you use them to help out people who are in need. despite your job.”  the last part was muffled and intended for yourself only but you should’ve known that aventurine would hear it. “what was that?” despite my job?” he asks in amusement. “just forget it!” you groan.

“anyway you do that or buy cute toys for your critters. You prefer to keep your friends close with words, gestures and actions, not money.” you whisper.

“jackpot.” aventurine chuckles before proceeding to drink the vodka in his shot glass. now what will you surprise him with next?

“i still love you.” the truth.

in the past minute you gathered together several questions, statements, personal experiences in your head only to splurt out with this? the boldness came from the vodka, at least that’s what you try to tell yourself nevertheless you’re sure of one thing: alcohol definitely wasn’t a good idea.

“bold as always.” aventurine chuckles amusedly. “the truth.” he hums before standing up from where he was currently sitting, moving towards your side of the table and standing in front of you. you’re dizzy - lightheaded, but you try to look up to where he’s standing, with much effort you move your head into his direction, still lying on the table though. although you feel dizzy you’re able to make out a faint smile on his rosy lips. 

he opens his arms before wrapping them around your body, just like how you always longed. it’s unfair. even though vodka reeks, he doesn’t smell like it at all, rather it’s still his signature scent, a somewhat fresh note mixed with something sweet, the scent that you like so much. “sorry for being an ass before.” he hums as he looks down at your temple and carefully brushes the hair which covers your face, away.

i love you too. he wants to say, but he can’t. aventurine still can’t come to terms with himself and his love towards you. he doesn’t know how to voice it out loud or show it through actions. three simple words that he can’t say together, fearing that they’d be too intimate and wouldn’t seem sincere, especially in this scenario. 

but in all honesty, you’ve probably already caught on. you’re smiling like a lovesick idiot when you stare at him, but who wouldn’t, when aventurine is looking at you with an expression that says more than “i love you” ever could. 

you knew instantly, he too, was guilty. guilty of loving you.

hey girly hold still!!!! this is uhm yeah dedicated to @azullumi i'm not writing you a sappy not until i get mine!! THAT DOESNT CONSISIT OF ONLY BLANING ME FOR MY TYPSOS also childe does no wrong. ajax, you the boy who fell into the abyss, later on known as the 11th harbinger tartaglia whom we met in liyue and called himself childe and then turned out to be apart of the fatui and we also later on meet in other nations, azul loves you a lot!!

© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[shakingparadigm]

(this is copy-pasted from a ramble I had in sleepy's dms like months ago so please forgive the inconsistent grammar/punctuation etc!)

till's feelings are akin to an edelweiss, persevering despite the horrid conditions and all the forces that should have brought it down. it's around the same meaning as the clematis flower. both flowers are defined by their ability to bloom in harsh conditions, which mirror the behavior of loving and finding meaning within each other amidst an inhumane society. edelweiss are more associated with devotion though, and in My Clematis the clematis is seen as a source of hope and strength. mizisua and till to mizi are symbolized by flowers because they have (or, well, had) hope. their feelings bloomed as a result of an extremely human response to seeking some sense of companionship, connection, some belonging in such a strange and otherworldly civilization where it's incredibly easy to feel used and alone. which is why it interests me that even though he has this same desire, ivan's love is symbolized not by an earthy, organic piece of life, but by pieces of cosmos, falling stars. meteor showers are ivan's signature. (putting on my pretentious cap because once again I am going to apply meaning to something that probably isn't that deep)

Ivan is incapable (quite a strong word for it, but it's their words, not mine) of feeling proper human emotion, that much is stated in the patreon posts regarding his character. Why? I have no idea. I theorize it to be his harsh and ruthless upbringing that caused him to close himself off completely in order to protect himself. it started off very early too. or maybe ivan just had no concept of proper human emotion in general. I imagine that while he was growing up, there wasn't exactly any room for the humans he was surrounded with to exhibit any emotion lest they were targeted or punished somehow. Or maybe he was just born that way. anyway it's established that ivan is different from the other humans in this way, that's a similarity he shares with only one other character: Luka (Luka actually does have a stated reason as to why he seems so artificial however). It's why Ivan just goes limp in the grasp of the alien that held him over the edge, despite tears welling in his eyes he remains emotionally vacant and quiet. This moment is his first sight of the meteor shower. Ivan associates meteor showers with very significant experiences in his life (mainly near-death experiences according to the posts). Perhaps those meteor showers gave him some sort of relief, too, an escape from the hell he was living in. maybe he was just fascinated by them, the way they were so far beyond his reach yet burned so brilliantly. just like Till. he saw till's incredible resolve, his refusal to back down and remain passive. Ivan goes through the motions of his "life" doing whatever it is someone wants him to do. they want to sell him? okay. they want to throw him off a building? okay. sing this song, enter this competition, behave and pose for the picture. okay. But Till would rather be beat over and over again than to have his autonomy taken away. He doesn't even sing the songs he's assigned for the competition, he writes his own. His individuality is a blazing, passionate thing that's only bolstered by his natural talent. And to once again refer to the posts: Ivan is deeply fascinated by those who have qualities that he lacks. When he saw Till pick himself up off the ground, he saw stars in him. He saw the blazing fire, the brightness, the fascinating qualities that were far beyond his grasp, something he could only ever admire and hold onto in his hardest moments, but never to hold.

There's also the fact that meteor showers are fleeting. They're beautiful, ethereal spectacles, but they don't last. They're not meant to be held gently in your hands and cultivated like a flower. They appear in bursts of light and leave a lasting impression on whoever sees them, but eventually they disappear. Just like Till leaves Ivan behind, the palm of his hand disappearing from Ivan's grasp, his departure leaving a lasting impression. Ivan knows what they have together will not last, he knows Till's heart belongs elsewhere, yet he clings onto the imagery of the meteor shower because it's all he has. Even if Till doesn't love him back, he's the sole reason Ivan is able to feel to this extent at all. It's a blessing and a curse, so even if it hurts, Ivan continues to hold on. He even includes meteor showers during his performance in ROUND 3, sparkling gloves seemingly made of stardust reaching out to them as he desperately sings to his very own star. VIVINOS and QMENG said themselves that Ivan was persistent. He holds no anger towards Till's feelings for Mizi, he won't drive a wall between them because he respects Till's feelings and Mizi as a person, but he won't let go, either. Falling stars are fleeting, but the impact they leave behind? Not so fleeting at all. That feeling could last forever if it truly meant something to someone.

[bbyobbyo]

You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

-

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

-

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

-

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

-

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.