#AYYYYYYY WE DID IT!!!!!

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Harry's Son | BODY BACK Update #5

We are BACK for the FINALLLL BODY BACK update! This book has haunted me since February and it's time to finally stop talking about it (lying)! Harrison wrestles with sonhood, contemplates shame, breaks a heart, & more!

Update under the cut!

Logline: Unwilling to confront reality, Harrison--at what may be the expense of Jeremiah--arrives at a house party where he unexpectedly examines his relationship with his estranged father.

Update 1 | Update 2 | Update 3 | Update 4

BODY BACK taglist (since this is the last update this list will no longer be used!)

@thelivingdeceased @writinglittlebeasts @cuntylittlesalmon @obssesedwithscandaledits @jaydewritesfiction@onomatopiya @euphoniouspandemonium @silassghost @strangerays @rodentwrites @wildswrites @saltwaterbells @encrucijada @cilantrospirit @kiki-is-writing @dallonwrites

Concepts within concepts within concepts...

The phrase "Harry's son" originally appeared in the first draft of the chapter 2 bathroom scene. In that draft, Harrison told his mother, "Harry's son? I'm nobody's son," THOUGH I eventually revised it so this became internal narrative instead after a critique I agreed with.

The meaning of the name Harrison is quite literally "son of Harry" and I was intrigued by what Harrison thinks of that, considering his strained relationship with his dad. While his father's name is not literally Harry, I was interested by what it meant for him to be named, in a sense, after his own sonhood.

During my chapter 2 revision, I removed the “Harry's son" dialogue, however there was something deeply vulnerable about Harrison admitting he felt disconnected from sonhood to me, and I wanted to emphasize that more in the draft. That's how I settled on naming the final chapter!

Theme informs plot

Thematically this chapter explores sonhood and naturally, fatherhood. The relationship between father and son wasn't a theme I'd explored previously in BB, but the chapter title of course warranted that exploration.

It was therefore most natural to start with a flashback between Harrison and his father (who is no longer in his life), and I LOVED seeing how this single theme alone informed the rest of the plot. We get to see how sonhood informs how Harrison interacts with himself, particularly in his relationship with intimacy (in adolescence and now also in his 20s RIPPP JEREMIAH).

The writing process

I lowkey struggledddd with this chapter, which is strange because it turned out pretty much exactly the way I wanted it to! Endings are always weird for me, no matter how clear of an idea I have for them. I had to edit and tweak MANY scenes in order for them to feel whole, and I didn't think I liked this chapter until I gave it a long, long rest.

The plot

CW: abuse, drug use, bullying, assault, homophobia, trauma

Harry's son starts in flashback, but the timeline is technically shortly after the end of No Christ!

Scene A:

In a teenage flashback, Harrison recalls his last memory of his father.

Scene B:

In the fictive present, Harrison lies next to a sleeping Jeremiah. Angry at himself, he plans on leaving but on his way out steals Jeremiah's magic mushrooms (which he takes lol bruh).

Scene Ca:

Tripping, Harrison ends up at a house party in need of release. He meets a man he instantly clicks with but who rejects him upon recognizing Harrison's frenzied state. Offended, Harrison and the man argue and the experience is oddly paternalistic.

Scene Cb:

Startled by what the man has said, Harrison recalls an early relationship he had with a boy named Valentine. Breaking out of the flashback, the man asks Harrison about shame to which he runs away (lol so real).

Scene D:

Frantically looking for a way out of the party, Harrison ends up in a bathroom where he runs into a man he quickly realizes is his own reflection.

Scene E:

On the lawn outside, Jeremiah wakes a dazed Harrison up. Biyu who is with him convinces him to leave and he eventually does (aka Haremiah breakup!!).

Scene F:

Sober and alone the next day, Harrison, with nowhere else to go, heads to a church.

Excerpts:

The full first scene! Also his childhood home being a bungalow makes no sense but like <3 I love that word <3 CW: implications of physical abuse.

The last memory Harrison has of his father is blurry, a moment shaken like a snow globe. He could’ve been nine. He could’ve been fifteen. But he’s sitting on the curb of his childhood home—a mid-century bungalow on the corner lot. His nose is bleeding. He’s not sure why. If he walked into a wall. If he asked for orange juice the wrong way. Sun glazes the neighbourhood and he’s there, legs outstretched on the resealed driveway, holding a palm to his upper lip. His dad mows the sparse grass behind him, but it’s been so long that he can’t see his face, or maybe it’s too vague to process as he weaves between the lawn’s birch trees. A neighbour blasts the radio up the road—Mariah, maybe Oasis. His father waves at a passing woman. Her hair is redder than Suz’s, her crow’s feet sharper, like knives. She delivers the neighbourhood’s papers. Sandra? Kristen? She lives three houses up, gives out full-sized Kit-Kats on Halloween. Nice weather, she might say—all he remembers is her smile. Every single tooth visible and narrow like rosary beads. Blood drips into his mouth. He’s not sure where to find tissues. He should get up now. Wash his hands. Run north. Find his mother.

His father turns off the mower and leans on the handle. Want to come inside for lemonade? he might ask, fingering his shirt collar, the line from his wedding band long tanned over. Whether the woman says yes or no doesn’t matter. The moment she rounds the sidewalk, she spots Harrison and is so startled she clutches her chest and breathless, asks, “Is that a ghost?”

Harrison analyzes Jeremiah in the dark:

Harrison listens to Jeremiah’s heartbeat. In the moon’s silken light, he traces his chest, fingers absorbing each thud, thud, thud. Asleep, his breaths are lighter than usual and it dawns on Harrison that he’s aware of this difference—how he inhales when awake, how he inhales when he laughs, how he inhales on Mondays before an early shift at Greta, how he inhales when he’s winning at Scrabble, how he inhales when he’s losing at Scrabble, how he inhales when he’s on a karaoke stage, how he inhales the moment he walks off, how he inhales before saying grace, how he inhales when kissed.

Harrison considers his own vulnerability (CW: descriptions of a dead animal):

When he was younger, he and Suzanna watched a nature documentary about hyenas. A group of cubs feasted on the head of a giraffe, left its body hollow. He’s not sure why he thinks of it now. Perhaps the look in his eye. Something dead, or perhaps startled. He leans forward, grips his jaw until he’s wincing. Jeremiah just touched him here, kiss satiny, elegant. He hadn’t commented on the bruise around Harrison’s throat except to blow on it like a mother might blow on a busted knee and say, almost inaudibly, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Harrison hadn’t considered that anything had happened to him. He happens to other people. He’s not that oblivious. But still. He wasn’t sure what motivated Jeremiah to kiss his eyelids, tell him he was angelic, a beautiful boy. He couldn’t tell if he deserved that grace. Why he’d ended up next to a man so willing to soothe his faults he forgot to guard his own. Harrison held him like he was an hourglass losing and gaining sand simultaneously.

Jeremiah tries to comfort Harrison because he's actually a really nice person:

Harrison cried when Jeremiah kissed the gash on his forehead, told him he was safe here. What had he done to warrant protection? Jeremiah kissed his stomach and said he was warm, worthy. Jeremiah twirled one of his curls and said he had a good heart—strong, covered with daisies. That was what, a few hours ago? How fast can goodness wear off in a man? In the dim mirror, Harrison should see that person Jeremiah described—worthy like a knight to valour, romantic as a damask rose. But he’s just someone’s son, a copy-and-pasted scattering of his mother’s nose, his father’s eyes.

Harrison thinks about identity and a future with Lonan:

The last time he knew who he was, he’d been wrestling with Lonan in a tent, his smile so wide it hurt. He’d been so sure of everything back then—he would drive Lonan from Oregon back to Boston, or Brooklyn, or wherever he wanted to go. They’d rent a brownstone in Sunset Park, spend half of move-in day making out in a scarred bathroom. Screen Lang’s Die Nibelungen on a projector in the kitchen. Adopt a cat. Buy each other the same socks year after year for Christmas. But Lonan’s not here, disappeared in some inaccessible plane. And if that is true, then Harrison must also be gone.

Harrison robs Jeremiah (the last line is on the BB dust jacket! - CW: drug mention):

He stoops to Jeremiah’s jacket at the foot of the bed—terra cotta suede. He pockets a loose nickel and a strip of gum, then yanks out his wallet from the breast pocket. He tells himself he’s going through it only for that baggie of Tylenol Jeremiah had pulled out at the restaurant. Even when his fingers brush up against twenties, fifties, he’s committed only to the painkillers. But the instant he touches something else—a different baggie bulging with mushrooms, there’s no doubt he’s going to break that promise. What other choice does he have? He’s just a man after all, and who sins better?

In Harrison's head, this is the Haremiah breakup:

In the dark motel room, Harrison looks up at Jeremiah. He’s a good guy. A good friend. Looks even younger when asleep and even less aware. “I love you,” Harrison whispers to the still air. He doesn’t even mean it. “I love you.” One day, he hopes he’s nothing but a story Jeremiah tells. Someone to laugh at over mimosas, to curse while knee-to-knee with an improved lover. Jeremiah, this world doesn’t know what it has. Jeremiah, hold yourself dearly. Jeremiah, I’m not coming back. Jeremiah, forgive me when you’re older.

Harrison again thinks about Jesus... fondly lol:

The house’s walls whorl like a spinning top. Suzanna bought him one of those when he was a kid, wooden, painted rainbow. He should call her. Find a phone in someone’s throat. Beg to go to voicemail, to be picked up, to be kicked out of her place where he can rot on the side of the road. He passes a room with two couches stacked on top of each other, or perhaps those are just people, mewing against bare skin like cats. His jaw is slack, hungry for something—Jesus? Or any other man?

Harrison seeks vengeance against his father and also thinks about Lonan again:

He needs to find his father right now. He couldn’t have gone far—perhaps he’s still in that suburban fever dream, mowing the lawn. Harrison could find out. Once, he was so motivated to drive a man back east with much less than eight hours of sleep and he could do the same for himself now. He needs to crouch in a musty closet. Pray to a god he doesn’t believe in. Kill his father with his bare hands.

Harrison bumps into "the man" and needs to chill! Also the "one man show" dialogue is parroted from Perry in chapter 3:

Maybe they kiss on their way to the kitchen. Maybe Harrison bites the man’s jewelry off with his teeth, chews, swallows. He’s starving. Why does it matter? The air is florid and gelatinous—like walking through a vat of women’s body wash. On the kitchen counter, Harrison finds a cyan punch bowl. He loads up another glass as the man watches him, downs one, then another. Under a bar light, the man is easier to see—brown-skinned, hazel-eyed, the stud on his upper lip shaped like a star. He could be beautiful. He could be the kind of man Harrison would’ve drooled over as a teenager. Older. Harder. Wiser. “You’re like a one man show,” Harrison says, then yanks him closer by the elbow. Maybe he’s hiding God in his mouth.

Harrison being embarrassing in narrative:

Harrison swipes at his lips, breathless. “What are you doing?” His eyes feel like the centre of an optical illusion, eternal even if you know exactly where the end is. “How old are you?” asks the man. His stare is resinous. Unyielding. Harrison pushes forward, but the man is too strong. He feels like a child when he tries again to no avail, his body thin, useless, and even younger when the best thing he can think to say is, “Guess.” “Look,” the man says, already turning his back. “Does someone know you’re here? A friend or something?”

14-year-old Harrison flashback when his father disappears for a couple days ft. Valentine!! (CW: self-harm mention):

It was June, the air so humid it was like walking through a spider’s web. The most Harrison could do to entertain himself was read the same copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer his father kept on the dining room table. He’d tried solving the 1000-piece puzzle of Big Ben that Suz had bought his father years before but gave up before he even finished the frame. By Tuesday, he was so bored he considered slitting his own palms to at least keep himself busy for a few hours while staunching the bleeding. He went on a walk instead. A five-dollar bill he’d pocketed a year before from his dad’s wallet crinkled in his pocket. It doesn’t matter where he was trying to go or what he meant to find—if he meant to find anything. Who he ran into was Valentine, a scrawny, towheaded boy who’d had a growth spurt that year and frequently smelled of bleach. They were in the same grade. Hadn’t ever said hello to each other. Valentine stood at the intersection near the high school, probably on his way to the convenience store for a packet of Cry Babies. He wore a red fleece vest—too hot for the weather. His chin was pocked with acne scars. One moment, Harrison was staring, shielding his eyes from the sun, and the next, he and Valentine were crouched against a dumpster, their mouths hot and wet like a winter glove chucked into the dryer and taken out too early.

Things take a saddddd turn w/ Valentine (mini ramble here to say I'd never thought much of Harrison's EARLY experiences w/ his sexuality/the joys and difficulties he encountered in his explorations and this section of the chapter almost killed me lol THIS MAN NEEDS LOVE):

It didn’t seem possible, then, how Harrison had invited Valentine back to his house, both aware his father had been gone that day and the day before and the day before, both sweaty, doe-eyed, panting, young. How they should’ve walked past Gingerbread House in Bay Ridge on the long way home, chatted about who they were backing in the ’98 NBA Finals. How Harrison knew there was a half-eaten packet of Schneider’s hot dogs in the fridge he could doctor into something more substantial with a single frozen TV dinner. How as they approached his house, he didn’t even need to see his father’s pickup to know he was there. From twenty feet away, he heard the radio—the Sean Hannity Show. He should’ve run. Everything buzzed inside him to, and he could’ve, scooped Valentine’s hand within his own and sprinted down the sweltering sidewalk until the sun went down. They could’ve gone anywhere, hitchhiked all the way to east Indiana, or west Texas. They could’ve spent the rest of their teenage years eyelash to eyelash, sour mouthed and in love on Sunday mornings.

CW: Physical abuse - Baby Harrison contemplates faith (sooo interesting considering he was raised an atheist):

Days later, when Harrison lay on his bed with a bag of frozen peas on his eyes, he’d considered the possibility of divine intervention. A god had tipped his father off. A ghost—perhaps the ghost of his mother. It was nonsensical. He couldn’t see through that eye until the end of July.

CW: assault - Baby Harrison is jumped by Valentine's older brother:

After a half hour, he was so dizzy, he thought he was dying. He wouldn’t see his mother again, would he? He’d tallied every day she’d been gone on sticky notes—he’d already gone through an entire pad. Suz would’ve known exactly what to do if she’d seen him like this, bound to the ground like a tacked butterfly. Her jeans muddying with dust as she crouched to her son, her hands warm, gripping his face, her saying he was beautiful just the way he was, he was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. He wanted to believe that vision into reality. But no one was coming for him.

CW: implied homophobia - Baby Harrison hopes for help in an adult who happens upon the above scene. && WHO SHAMED YOU:

He stood over Harrison, who’d started to cry. His mustache was woolly, belly round. A cigarette dangled between his fingers. There was something soft in his eyes. Harrison thought it was pity at first. Then he said, “Up now, boy. What did you expect?” and he knew it was disgust. Now, the man from the party stands in front of Harrison. For a second, he has to blink to ensure he’s not still there in that lot, staring up at a man he hopes will help him. His head’s falling off. His eyes are on fire. What had they been talking about? There’s something about shame. The man steps forward. Harrison recoils even though no one has touched him. Some partygoers have entered the kitchen now, all congregating around the punch bowl like Harrison had. The bang of music from outside follows them as they chatter and the noise is like an ice pick to the brain and Harrison wants to tell them all to leave, Harrison wants to bolt from this city, Harrison wants to be someone else’s son for a day just to see if that might fix him. “Who shamed you?” asks the man. Harrison inhales, aware he feels like a deer just about to be shot. He glances at the others here with them—their golf ball eyes, their pearl necklaces, then glances at the door. He can’t look at the man again. If wisdom is a weapon, Harrison’s a prey animal, so gullible, death a requirement of his life. The man opens his mouth again. Harrison runs.

Harrison's "excuse me while I run I really gotta get out of here" moment (FUN FACT is this first sentence is an exact mirror of the first sentence of the book!):

Harrison doesn’t need a god so much as he needs a way out. He parts glittering people with his elbows, his heart a pendulum ticking. He needs an exit sign bleeding in neon letters. He needs to cab back to Brooklyn—not to find his father, but to hide. He needs to go back to Eliza’s apartment and sit in the parking lot for hours until someone—anyone, a shadow of a man with cold hands, a phantom who sins as much as he prays—comes out. It doesn’t matter who he nudges, if one is a woman who looks vaguely like Biyu, if she curses when he shoves her out of the way, if one is a man with a shiny upper lip who says Harrison’s kind of cute and would he like to kiss him? He’s no Jacob fleeing Laban, he’s just a man trapped in a party, his vision pooling pink, orange, neon green. Who shamed you? He hates the shape of that question. His mother is disappointed in him, his father too—this is their white flag. A failure with Jeremiah, a failure at this party, a failure in sonhood. As he moves, that question bleats. Down a set of stairs. Who shamed you? Back up two. Who shamed you?

He's kinda going through it? (CW: violence) this is one of my favourite parts of the whole book!

He’s too aware when he’s high but worse when he’s not, the losing player in his own zero-sum game. He’s a loser—he is lost here, the walls around him shaped like a mouth, two mouths, three, all slick and shouting the same words—who shamed you? Who shamed you? Who shamed you? Harrison gapes, unable to escape. Someone tells him to watch where he’s going. Someone grabs him by the throat. Someone helps him up the stairs, and someone else kicks him back down. Someone reads his fortune on a daybed, tells him he’s been dead since yesterday. Someone holds his face and says he’s the most gutless person they’ve ever met. He’s going to die here. He’s already dead. He’d like to die in the starlight. He’d like to take his last breath to the pulse of Take On Me. He’s laughing. He’s crying. When he splits a joint with someone on the roof, he’s naked but so clothed he could suffocate. He’s under the earth. He’s hovering above it. He’s lost in a glut of bodies. No one is here. Someone could be. He screams for a mother. Mourns a father. Chews his nails on the landing. Begs for forgiveness with his eyes spread open.

Harrison breaking point fr:

He runs into a man. The stranger’s eyes are wide and peeled back like a sardine can, his hair so mussed it looks less like a style and more like electrocuted sunrays. He can’t be any older than him—the look in his eye is searing, mildly reckless. Perhaps he’s got a mother at home waiting on him like Harrison does. Perhaps his memories of his own father are buried within the scars that loop his hairline, easy to write off as accidents. His upper lip is shiny, the barest fuzz of a mustache growing. He looks like he’s fated to die too, something sad in his face when he blinks. Harrison reaches, and the man does too. When his fingers knock into a cold surface, it takes him a minute longer to realize he’s not staring at another man, but himself. He stumbles backward and narrowly steadies himself on the bathroom’s locked door. He squints at his reflection again, deluged in déjà vu. Bloodshot eyes, purple throat, split lip. He takes a careful step forward and then another and then another until he’s bolting right back to his face, pressing his palm to his cheek. What had Jeremiah asked him when he’d arrived at his apartment yesterday? What happened to you? And what did happen? He’s a man mid-bruise, a man mid-death, a man mid-funeral, a man mid-afterlife. Something’s fallen out of his face. His fingers tighten against the mirror. Will he claw it out of his eyeballs? He tries. He’s desperate to, in need of unravelling something. But no matter how insistently his fingernails scrape, nothing changes—he looks the same. Bloodshot eyes, purple throat, split lip. He doesn’t recognize himself. It feels like he won’t again. And why would he? In August, he abandoned a part of himself thinking he could find it again on his own, and how wrong was he? He’s not brave. How foolish to think he could be.

Saddest part of the book probably (resurrecting badly is one of my favourite phrases EVERRR):

His eyes swerve like Halley’s comet. He’s not the man he once was. No Christ, no Jacob, no Jeremiah, but something much worse. He’s sprouting something evil, his face glitching right ahead of him. Panic lurches up his throat and he reaches for himself to say he’s fine, someone’s here for him, someone loves him, nothing’s going to make him vanish here, he’s here, he’s happy, he’s going to be, he’s worthy of gentleness, he’s really not, he’s got an ugly smile, he’s nobody here, he’s losing himself, he’s better than ever, he’s dismantling no matter how hard he tries to keep himself together, he’s wearing another man’s earring because he’s over him, he’s not, he’s never going to love someone else again, he’s in chrysalis, he’s in autopsy, he’s got someone else’s nose, eyes, hair, he’s resurrecting badly, he’s turning blue and nothing can stop him, he’s Jesus when he wants to be and Lonan right now. The mirror shatters before he realizes he’s punched it. Fractals of glass starburst off his fist, splay across the counter. He’s not Lonan. He’s kinder than that. He doesn’t lift people by the chin and then twist off their heads. He drives a man across the country out of his own volition. When his mother calls him generous he understands why. He does not leave the man who sees something soft in him. He’s a good person. He’s a good person. He’s crying as his own face splits into a million pieces.

Haremiah breakup starts now...... !!!

He wakes dazed under starlight. What he knows for certain: a honeysuckle flutes behind his ear and man hovers over him. If these two things are related, he doesn’t know why—if the flower’s a gift from the man, if the man is a gift from the flower. How beautiful is that idea? Man not a duplicate of himself but birthed from a petal like a pearl from a clam. He could be a glorious by-product, couldn’t he? This question matters less than the throbbing light ahead of him. He squints at its blurred edges. Gabriel coming for him? The headlights of Suz’s car? Perhaps just a streetlamp. Or, God doesn’t have a face—this could be his arrival.

This is a direct continuation of that (JEREMIAH IS NOT HAPPY)!!! ft. the iconic drawing:

“Harrison?” He blinks. Someone’s shaking his shoulder. He’d like for them to stop—each movement is like being hulled out of his skin. “Harrison?” the voice repeats. Harrison. who is that? Harrison. He should know. Harrison. He’s heard that name called on velvet midnights. He’s heard that name aimed like a gunshot. Uttered like a prayer. Harrison. “Can you hear me? You stole my shit.”

You ever wake up high in the grass and then call your current bf who's a hair away from breaking up with u the name of ur ex bf bc you actually for a second see your ex who is literally not there:

He’s in the grass. Staring at a face now that’s getting closer, closer, attached to a neck that’s attached to a shoulder that’s attached to an arm that’s attached to a hand that’s nudging him. He could stay here forever. That face is pretty as the silverbells he and Suz used to hang on their Christmas tree. Prussian blue eyes. Oil spill hair. The last time he’d seen this face, he was amazed at how delicate it could look in dappled light. Features sculpted precariously like a China doll. Harrison used to imagine a future with that face. Harrison used to see himself reflected back in his pupils. “Lonan?” he asks, eyes lolling. His heart’s racing. He needs to tell the truth. He wants to hold him but his hands aren’t moving on command. What if he misses this shot? What if he’s a set of full fingers and this man is sand sifting right through them? Please don’t leave, he wants to say. Please don’t let me go.

(^^^ I'M HURTTTTTTTTT)

Harrison thinks about Jeremiah fondly AND THE ILY DROP (also biyu in the bg like HOLD MY POPCORN):

Harrison’s gotten used to him—how he hums Lionel Richie hits in the shower, how he softens his vowels when talking to his seven-year-old cousin on the phone, how he’s wise but still young—how he’s lost nothing from knowledge. And maybe that’s the problem. It’s impossible to keep a good thing that’s been around for too long. Harrison finds a face, his fingers clammy, clumsy. The moment he contacts skin, Jeremiah’s face clarifies as if emerging from a cloud. Soft skin, his brows waved in worry, mouth taut with what might be anger, or what might be devastation. He should be angry. He should be devastated. Harrison would be angry. Harrison is angry. Devastated too. He’s a good person. He keeps being dealt bad cards, keeps getting paper cuts on the way. It’s not fair. None of this has ever been fair. “Listen to me,” Harrison says, gripping Jeremiah’s cheek harder. His eyes flare at the blood dripping down his knuckles and the specks of glass that glitter off them like rhinestones. “Are you listening?” “JJ,” comes the voice as a car door slams. “He’s not worth it.” Jeremiah’s jaw trembles. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t suffer. “I’m here.” “You’re a good person,” Harrison says. He drags his fingers down to Jeremiah’s mouth, digs miniature ships into his bottom lip. In another life, he could’ve gone anywhere with this man. A private tour of a glass museum. Griffith Park. A supermarket cereal aisle. Bora Bora. The fabric-softened sheets of his double bed. “I love you,” he says, ignoring the second voice that again suggests they leave. He tries to get onto his elbow to get closer to him, to kiss him, to stare till his eyes tumble out like marbles, to take his chin and say I find the best parts of me in you, but the farthest he gets is a weak buck of his chin. “I love you, I love you.” “JJ. We need to go.” Jeremiah’s staring right at him. He’s never seen his eyes like this before—so focused it’s like they’ve pressurized and could crack like amber at any moment. He looks like he wants to say something. Harrison, stay with me. Harrison, you’re not your past. Harrison, you’re surviving. Instead, he shakes his head, then starts to rise.

(^^ I FIND THE BEST PARTS OF ME IN YOUUUUU STOPP)

WHAT NOT TO SAY WHEN YOU COULD'VE SALVAGED THIS YOU FOOL:

Harrison snatches his wrist so tight his hands shake. “Believe me,” he says. His chest is airy. He’s dying. He’s dead. Falling from a great height. He smooths a hand up Jeremiah’s eyebrows. Beautiful man. A living picture in his own right. Jeremiah glances at his arm wound by Harrison’s fingers, and when he looks back up, his eyes are shimmering. “Why did you go?” he asks. And why had he? He could’ve spent forever against Jeremiah’s ribs. Built a future with him over spiked lemonade and foolish nights at karaoke bars. Jeremiah’s built for movement, late nights, orange sorbet mornings, moonlit swan paddle boats, a thrilling midlife career change, dinner parties with near strangers, weekend hikes of Yosemite, bustling hostels in Amsterdam, desserts with almond liqueur and crème fraîche, sunsets in Montego Bay. “You’re bad for me,” Harrison slurs. Jeremiah’s face slackens.

last image of Jeremiah:

So he doesn���t try when Biyu stands and helps her friend do the same. He doesn’t try as he watches Jeremiah paw off his eyes, as he watches Jeremiah look at him a last time before turning away. He doesn’t try as together, they walk toward the car, mumbling things Harrison can’t hear—that he’ll never find out. He doesn’t try as Jeremiah opens the passenger side door, and before he gets in, takes one glance back at him on the grass. He doesn’t try as Jeremiah’s lip trembles, doesn’t try when he ducks into the car and slams the door shut. After all this time, it feels like the least he can do.

Harrison-Jesus parallels:

The crowd goes mild, focused forward as the processional begins. Harrison looks to Jesus crucified behind the altar. In his last moment, he gave himself to his father. Harrison will never see his father again, unlike Jesus, but both their mothers have been left to weep. And yet they’re both sons. No matter what they’ve done.

AND THE ENDING (the choir's singing Here I am Lord) ft. chapter 1 & 2 parallels (& credit also to @dallonwrites who gave me the idea for this ending months ago literallyyyyy worked out so perfectly):

This morning, he woke on the same grass he’d last seen Jeremiah on. He didn’t need anyone to tell him not to go back. The difference between him yesterday and him today is he’s a man without a place to go. No shepherd to follow. No man to hold. He understands what he is. A failure. A disaster. A sad, bitter person. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him any of this. Not Jeremiah. Not Biyu. Not Suzanna. Not Lonan. The music swells. Harrison’s eyes burn. In August, leaving Lonan was an inevitability as much as it was a new beginning. Now, he knows he’s not going anywhere. After this, he’ll go back to Suzanna who’ll greet him with a plate of papas, twirl his hair while he cries in her lap on the couch. They’ll buy tilapia on sale at the grocery store tomorrow. Adopt a betta fish, wince at the normalized hypocrisy. He won’t think about Lonan. What he’s doing in that apartment. If he remembers what it’s like to hold someone’s hands like they’re your own, what it’s like to mistake someone else’s reflection as yours. He’ll never speak to Jeremiah again out of courtesy, write him a postcard from a Grand Canyon gift shop when he and Suzanna visit like typical mothers and sons, but never send it. He can manage in his forever and ever and ever and ever amen because he’s okay. This horribly pleasant, horribly easy life will be okay. The choir asks who will bear their light. Offers themselves to God just as Jesus did. Harrison gasps. Once, he might’ve convinced himself he could be like them. Someone so committed they’d do anything for the person they love. He’d done that before—given everything in him to a man even if it almost killed him. Now he doesn’t know. Who he is. Where he went. Jesus in the tomb. Body gone. Body gone. He’s missed his chance at glory. When the choir swells, their voices clattering off the domed ceiling, he laughs. He doesn’t mean to. But there he is, virtually alone despite the passionate churchgoers around him. He’s no Christ, no Jacob, no Jeremiah. No Lonan. He’ll never be even if he wanted to. Tears flail down his face. He laughs again, though halfway, it becomes a sob. The woman from earlier glances at him funnily, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to heaven. He’s never going to see Jeremiah again. The choir’s heard their calling, but Harrison won’t ever have one. He laughs with his eyes straight on the crucifix. People from other pews begin to turn around, puzzled, even the priest looking up from the altar. The church silences eventually. No one claps. All eyes turn to him. He weeps with his mouth wide open.

AAAAND that's it!!! Thank you SO much if you've been following this project & AN EXTRA THANKS to everybody who sent so much love and support my way. Like no drama, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have all that support earlier this year, so if you've ever said ANYTHING NICE about BODY BACK, please know you literally saved me this year! Thank you!!!! It's really a spectacular feeling to know you have a little village behind a project, and I feel so honoured and grateful that this project resonated with so many people. <3

NOW GO FORTH 24K HARRISON LIVES ON IN OUR MEMORIES <3 (where he should remain forever <3 lol).

#writeblr #amwriting #writerblr #writing #writing updates #writingupdates #bodyback #fostered #mothwork #AYYYYYYY WE DID IT!!!!! #this chapter is actually really hard to read for me IT'S SOOO SADDDD but I hope you enjoyed! #AND THANKS FOR BEING ON THIS RIDE WHILE I WROTE THIS SILLY LITTLE BOOK HEHEHE #LOVE AND LIGHT <3 <3 <3

[immortalmuses]

Y'ALL IT'S MY NEW ANTHEM!!!

#ayyyyyyy am livingggg!!! #ooc #it's 2024 and BOY HOWDY did I need this kind of duet between Orville Peck and WILLIE FUCKING NELSON #we always knew Willie was invited to the cookout #Youtube

[gibbyslounge]

dream is hot he is attractive as hell ummmmm the lighting was amazing. constantly doing him right. he did look like modern jesus. a deity. i didnt even get there late but i happened to be somewhat behind maybe the tallest man ever so i was kinda microdosed with his face and honestly it was glorious. blessed to even be in his presence. the way i would stop breathing when i saw him. what the hell

the sweetest kindest loveliest comfiest gentleman idk how he did it but it felt so personal and i think everyone thought he was looking at them a little i was in the back and im short and i was like what is this eye contact. you can see me?? i can see you!!! checked up on the crowd constantly asking if we ate today or if we were thirsty and needed water. said i love you a lot. incredibly charismatic and engaging. bright and funny and himself. ADORABLE AND ENDEARING.

a natural born performer. it was basically a one man show (plus dj tiiiiiiiiiip and keyboardist and drummer ayyyyyyy). he was the mc. he was the entertainment. he was the performer. he was the distraction. he was the planner. head of the team. a target for balls (he wanted to be hit in the face with one). improv artist and choreography king. VOCALS!!! he hit all the notes! falsettos! what can he not do??!!

there was a game where we had to guess who was dream and how did i know who it was immediately. say there are three people lined up with identical outfits and masks. immediately noticed #3 is taller and broader than the others. when asked “did your job before youtube start with an a?” #3 puts not one thumbs up but TWO. arms big and wide to give TWO enthusiastic thumbs up. when asked to do heart hands they all do a bad job. who had the biggest proudest heart even though it was bad. #3. the bigger broader one. immediately dream. one of the other ones was an old man lolol.

the beginning of the show before he comes out??? when is beyonce releasing the visuals????? a documentary will be made. TRUST.

WAS NOT SMELLY!!!

NEED PANIC ATTACK ON ALL PLATFORMS STAT!!!!

#literally cried during mask then ran home it was a fever dream #i have xs on my hands from the venue and i will never wash them ever again #wish i got there earlier but other than the tall man there were two kids in front of me who were having a blast it was sweettttt #dream is like an apple pie fresh out of the oven #it was really very amazing and i cant stress how well dream did and how much i love him times one thousand #droncert #dreammysunshine

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Taste The Rainbow {One Shot} ***

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+ Mature Content, Cursing, Substance Use, Crude Language, Oral: Male & Female Receiving, PLENTY OF WORDS, Raw Shenanigans

Words: 11.7K

Synopsis: Nope!!

Note: All right guys, as promised and teased. I know it’s mega long, but I really wanted you guys to have a full experience and really make it feel real. I hope you enjoy this, and I didn’t go overboard. 

Caution: there are ALOT of words. LISTEN TO THE WARNINGS!!

As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

****NOT EDITED/PROOFREAD****

****Interactive****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, you have to come!”

 You rolled your eyes as you popped a few kernels of kettle corn into your mouth. The current episode of this k-drama you were watching was the only thing on your mind right now and finishing this series was the only thing on your agenda tonight. You didn’t care how much your best friend Lina pleaded or begged or even bargained. You were determined not to fall for it.

 “Oh hell no. There is no way in hell you’re staying home tonight. Not when tonight is supposed to be the hottest party ever,” Trixie shouted ending her sentence in true Trixie fashion—exaggeratedly.

 You rolled your eyes again, now only half listening because you were fully focused on reading subtitles. Your jaw dropped when it was revealed that the second male lead who had been persistently trying to get the female lead was in fact cheating and seeing the first male lead.

 “No fucking way,” you said more to the space around you than to your friends.

 “Y/N! We will kick down your door and drag you out whether you want to or not!”

 Sighing you pressed pause, “Trixie, I don’t want to go. I’m good here tonight. I have my kettle corn, my strawberry mojitos and nine episodes to keep me company,” you protested.

 “My god, when did you get so boring?”

 “Plus, you say every party is going to be the hottest party ever,�� you added mimicking her words, energy, and tone of voice to perfection.

 You could hear Lina laughing.

 “You think you’re real cute huh, Y/N?”

 “Matter of fact I know I am. Cute, fine and better than a glass of fine wine!”

 “Ayyyyyyy!”

 You smiled then took a sip of your mojito. As soon as the burn of the three different liquors took over your tongue you moaned. You’d wanted it to be strong but gahdamn it was strong, strong. You released a hoot and moaned again.

 “Are you drinking?”

 “Damn right I’m drinking.”

 “Alone? Wow, you’re right Tix, she has gotten boring.”

 “Fuck you thing one and thing two!”

 They giggled as you took another healthy sip while ignoring their bullshit. You were not boring. Yes, it had been a while since you’d partied until the next day’s sun shined hot in the sky, or till you passed out and woke up with no memory of the previous night, or had a wild ass story to tell, but so what! As you went over those details in your head you paused beginning to wonder if they were right. Had you gotten boring?

 “Still there?”

 Sighing, you leaned back in the couch. “Still here.”

 “We have a reason you should come tonight besides that fact you’ve gotten boring,” Lina said.

 “Wha reason,” you questioned with a mouthful of popcorn.

 “You know who is supposed to be there,” Lina replied.

 Before you put another handful of popcorn into your mouth, you took a sip from your glass already feeling the light and dark rum and tequila beginning to work its glorious magic. “Who?”

 “You know who. Come on, he’d about six feet, looks amazing in a jumpsuit, know how to go super-fast, and has more than one talent,” Trixie listed off.

 You rolled your eyes. The minute she said looks amazing in a jumpsuit you knew who she was blabbering on about. Scoffing you shook your head. “Oh. So, you mean super-fast as in sleeps with anything with a nice ass and a great set of tits faster than a racecar can get to one hundred?”

 Their snorting told you that they got your joke.

 “You ain’t have to do our friend like that,” Lina piped up.

 “Friend? Girl please that’s yo’ guys’ friend!”

 “Okay you’re our friend so friends by two degrees of separation,” Lina added.

 “Whatever. I still don’t wanna go.”

 “Come on. He specifically asked if you were gonna be there tonight.”

 With your glass right at your lips, you paused. “W—why?”

 “Guess you’re gonna have to come and find out.”

 You rolled your eyes already knowing this was one of Trixie’s tricks. For the last six years since Lina had gotten signed to be one of the models for a F1 event where she met none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton, they’d maintained contact and become friends. One event let to two, then three and that’s when Lina brought Trixie in on the fun then ultimately you. Lina and Trixie hit it off with him and his friends because they were models and ran in those party circles. You however, you weren’t a model. You were a stylist and aspiring fashion designer. When Trixie let that slip to him seventy-two hours later you were booked as his stylist for his next eight events. It had been one of those Cinderella stories. From then you were booked and busy.

 Where Lina and Trixie always connected with him, you on the other hand couldn’t. You didn’t know why. It wasn’t because his vibe was off, or he proved to be an asshole or not worth the hype. In fact, his energy was incredible, it was always positive, always bubbly and filled with so much calm that you wondered if he knew hoodoo and had leveled up to master practitioner or if it was for real. Whenever you were around him, he proved to be as great as everyone always raved about. He was kind, thoughtful, funny, and so damn endearing. There was also always this intoxicating vibe that he gave off, a vibe that felt like a drug. You’d watched so many fall for it. That made you that much more determined not to be one of them.

 So, you kept your emotional and energy distance from him whenever you were around each other which was a lot. After six years, you were exhausted with trying to keep your walls impenetrable and energies from mingling together. It had become clear around year two how badly your energies wanted to play. However, he’d never made a move on you, never asked Lina or Trixie to put in a word for him, never stepped over the line or disrespected you or your body. Half of you was relieved, the other half was confused as to why he hadn’t. By year five you’d decided that you were imagining things and assuming shit that wasn’t even so.

 Now, year six you tried to not be around him unless it was necessary which meant for work only. Even being around him for work felt off putting. You hated that you felt like you owed him for your come up even though Lina and Trixie had pleaded his case saying that he didn’t put you on because he was friends with them or anything besides your skill as a stylist. No matter how they swore it, you couldn’t help but feel opposite, especially hearing of all the kind things he’d done for others who were close to him. Even now as your new fashion line had just debuted at fashion week, which was the ultimate show that you’d made it, you still remembered how and where you’d gotten your start.

 “Come tonight. It’ll be fun,” Lina gently coaxed one more time.

 You raised your glass again and drank the cold beverage down, ignoring the burn and focusing on the eruption of flavors in your mouth and the decision that was already made for you.

 ~~~~~~~~

 Three hours later you stepped out of the car with Lina and Trixie beside you and a massive wrought iron gate before you and an equally massive mansion about sixty feet behind it lit up with neon-colored lights.

 “Oh—

 “My—

 “Fuck,” you finished.

 The three of you looked at each other then snorted.

 “Whose party is this?”

 “I think it’s Lew’s,” Lina said.

 “Or maybe someone from his crew.”

 “Whose house is this?”

 They both shrugged then stepped forward. You still stood there for a few moments while Lina and Trixie showed stepped to one of the six muscled men guarding the gate who looked like he was checking invites. One motioned to another behind the gate before it opened. As you approached, they looked at you expectantly. You entered your security code but before you tapped into your messages a voice echoed out.

 “Let her through.”

 The large man that was standing in front of you moved to the side giving you access to the opened gate. Eying them quizzically, you stepped through following Lina and Trixie down the asphalt driveway.

 “What was that about?”

 “VVIP baby.”

 “VVIP?”

 “Only basics have to show invites. VVIP get through strictly on face card and ours never decline,” Trixie boasted.

 You couldn’t help but laugh. This girl was a mess and a half. The three of you continued your walk toward the mansion and the closer you got the louder it got and the louder it got the more madness you saw. People were sprawled across the expansive lawn drinking, dancing, laughing, and dabbing in various substances. You even saw quite a few who looked like they were tripping out as they spoke to the air, or bushes or even trees. Before you stepped inside, the mansion, you saw someone chasing a squirl toward the east side of the lawn screaming “I wanna play.”

 “What the fuck!?”

Once you, Lina and Trixie stepped inside the precursor on the lawn was nothing compared to the debauchery inside. Immediately, you were hit with the scent of various smokes and met with nothing but fog. Lina and Trixie squealed before looping your arm and walking through the endless fog. There were bodies everywhere and these bodies came for one thing—other bodies. There were kissing groups of two, and four and even dry humping piles of six or more, only most of them were full on naked.

 The further in you got the lewder the scene and you were not turned off at all. Two bikini clad servers approached holding trays of neon-colored drinks in nearly every color.

 “Choose your poison, beware each comes with a different price.”

 Lina took an orange and a green one, Trixie swiped a purple and a white one while you cautiously picked out a pink and a blue one. The three of you hit your six shot glasses together then knocked them back one after the other. Your pink one tasted like cotton candy while the blue one like blueberry.

 “Mmm.”

 You quickly swiped two more from a passing tray and downed them in sequence as well.

 “I think we have our blackout princess back,” Trixie said in a sing song voice before cheering.

 Your alter ego had gotten you into plenty of trouble over the years and they’d both been right by your side egging you on while heightening the amount of chaos you brought. Whenever you came out the other side you came out with no regrets and one question, where was your bra. Tonight, you’d opted out of a bra, so you knew that wasn’t going to be a question on your lips tomorrow afternoon. Blackout princess was back, and she was ravenous for fun.

 Lina’s phone dinged and a few seconds later she smiled.

 “Let’s go say hello to our host.”

 An intriguing sight from across the room caught your eye and attention. Lina and Trixie began walking to the left, but you walked forward disappearing into the fog. The closer you got; you saw a group of people playing twister. Well, it was base Twister. On each color circle was a matching neon colored drink. You watched as each color and body part combo was called out and watched as each new part landed on a color, they were handed that color drink.

 “Double the stakes, twice the mistakes.”

 You looked beside you into the almost glowing eyes of a decent looking guy with semi long hair and a perfectly groomed goatee.

 “Have you played?”

 He nodded.

 “Won?”

 “Lost miserably.”

 “How many drinks in did you get?”

 He held up five fingers and you laughed. “Lightweight.”

 He laughed then bounced your shoulder. “Hey, what if that was my last straw?”

 “Then you need tougher skin or at least a higher tolerance.”

 He scoffed, bit his bottom lip, and looked you over.

 “How far do you think you can go?”

 You looked back at the game and assessed the situation. You were in no way or shape a lightweight. You turned your body to his and locked in on his eyes.

 “All—the—way!”

 His smile was sexy and spoke of spontaneity. He leaned closer then looked to your lips. “Show me.”

 Smirking, you nodded and approached the game just as a new round was beginning.

 “Admission fee,” a girl with a neon purple bikini said.

 “Which is?”

 “Say ahh.”

 You smiled and did as she said. As soon as your mouth opened, she placed a tablet on your tongue which tasted a lot like strawberries and cream as it quickly dissolved in your mouth.

 “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

 The first combo was called, and you happily took the glowing red shot glass as your right foot took its place. After, came a yellow, then blue drink which resulted in your hands on opposite colors and your ass in the air facing the cute stranger.

 “Left foot green.”

 Thankful for your years of yoga you did the perfect wide legged downward dog then took the neon green drink. Once you gulped it down you looked between your spread legs and found his eyes right on your ass and his mouth wide open. You almost snorted. No one could ever resist this move. As you were about to move to put your left hand on the same red your left foot was on you saw another set of eyes watching you through the fog. It was thick around them and every time it thinned enough for you to make out their face, it only covered them more.

 That was then the double vision set in making your legs feel wobbly. This was the admissions fee. Unable to stop yourself, you laughed out loud and moved your hand to red. This move had you twisted showing your flexibility as well as your dangerous curves. When you looked back, the fog thinned enough for you to make out just who the second set of eyes belonged to. Lewis Hamilton. As soon as you clocked him, he slid on his dark sunglasses and turned away disappearing into the fog.

With the next combo, two fell. Two combos after another three fell and two more from then you were the last one standing taking the prize with a total of nine drinks in your system. Rather than approaching the stranger again you disappeared into the fog off to explore what else this party had up its sleeve.

 About two hours later, you were holding your liquor and substances surprisingly well as you approached a spirited game of twerk pong. Several people took turns trying to do their best twerk to empty the box of ping pong balls strapped to their tailbones. It was hilarious to watch the attempts at not only attempting the perfect twerk but also accomplish the task. Most failed at both but a few succeeded at one or the other.

 “There you are!”

 Trixie’s voice blared into your ear as she giggled. “Where have you been?”

 “Taking inventory.”

 “Found anyone you like?”

 “The eye candy is nice. Not tempting enough to try flavors though.”

 “Maybe your flavor is at this game,” Lina shouted louder than the cheers and laughter around. Your eyes met Lewis’ across the way. He bobbed his head to you then raised his glass, an action your mimicked.

 “No one has taken the grand prize,” Lina said.

 You looked over and saw a gold medal around Lewis’ neck.

 “It’s made out of gourmet chocolate with a little surprise ingredient and twenty-four carat gold spray,” Lina added ending in her sing song voice.

 She was clearly well on her way of being fucked up on the floor in a few hours.

 “Any other attempts?”

 A hand in the middle of your back sent you right into the middle.

 “Wooooo, let’s hear it for Y/N!”

 You glared at Trixie. She sure was living up to her name. Everyone around you clapped, cheered and chanted your name making it impossible to renege. You stood there as someone strapped a box around your waist then there was silence and all eyes turned to Lewis.

 “Let the beat drop.”

 Cheers rang out again and though you didn’t have any intention of playing along, the beat that dropped was a favorite of yours. Before you could stop yourself, you were already twerking. This was no twerk for the balls to come out, it was the twerking of an ass that needed to move to its favorite track. What followed next was inevitable. The balls dropped one by one from the small slot then two by two.

 The more the song picked up, the more effort your put into it and the more you became determined to get the balls out. In a span of time that didn’t feel long at all you slowly realized that the all the balls were rolling around the floor and you were just twerking for twerk’s sake.

 “Aaaaaaah!”

 Sirens blared and everyone lost their damn mind. Lina and Trixie collided into you screaming.

 “You did it!”

 You laughed and shrugged as if it was only inevitable for you to do it. When you turned around you watched Lewis approach you with a smirk. Once he was about two feet from your face he stopped and leaned to your ear.

 “Babygirl twerked so good it’s better than a beat drop!”

His words could have been the command to get wet because that is what instantly happened. You stood there stunned by his effect as he lifted off the medal that dangled against his neon paint splattered, tattooed chest that was on display for all to gawk at and place it around your neck. His scent hit you so hard you nearly stumbled backward. Fuck you thought, he smelled like the best things on earth, things that made your belly rumble but not from hunger--it was desire.

“Are you good at everything or just things you do with your body?”

A moan escaped you before you could stop it and that was when Lewis met your eyes. For a few moments, it felt like the entire place was empty and it was just the two of you surrounded by colored fog and neon lights. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip then watched him do the same. From your eyes, the action was something completely lewd and hedonistic which raised your temperature several degrees. The fog got thicker and somehow it worked as a sobering tool to bring you back to reality. Suddenly, everything and everyone came back into focus. You scoffed then leaned to his ear.

“My body’s no exception I’m good at everything I do.”

With that you backed away disappearing into the fog as you bit into the chocolate medal hanging around your neck. It would have to suffice as what you really wanted in your mouth would open a box you weren’t sure you could handle.

A while later you were sitting in a room where the walls were covered in paint splatter just staring at the different color patterns people had made. You’d figured out the secret ingredient Lina had alluded to—weed. Your sight had settled, and now you were experiencing a beautiful mellow vibe that had you feeling good. You rose to your feet and approached the buckets of paint and took up one of the feather dusters then swung it to the wall. A fresh streak of bright orange droplets peppered the wall and floor.

You stood there admiring your work then rode the wave of energy that overtook you. You dipped the duster into bucket after bucket of pain and splattered them willy nilly onto the walls in complete chaotic and erratic fashion. You buzzed around the room as if you’d chugged several energy drinks and now felt like Hermes himself sans the winged sneakers as per Percy Jackson era. Soon you were spinning around in a circle in the room squealing and having the time of your life.

 “Either you’ve paid way too many admission fees and are tripping out or you’re paying all the prices of the poisons.”

You stopped but the room kept spinning. You stumbled a few steps, but strong arms gripped you before the floor came up to meet you.

 “Woah, woah. Y/N, are you okay?”

 You giggled and nodded. “I’m better than okay. If Lina and Trixie could see me now. They wouldn’t dare call me boring.”

 He smiled and stood you up but kept his hands wrapped around your waist.

 “You, boring? I pity the daft pricks who ever believed that.”

 You met his eyes. “You were never one of them?”

 Lewis shook his head. “Never. I’ve always seen just who you are from the moment we met.”

 You could feel the heat from his hands on the bare skin of your back and it was then you became aware of your own hands that were plastered across his bare chest and abs. Dropping your eyes, you took in the beauty that was Lewis Hamilton. He was covered in neon paint with a few glow sticks poking out of his pocket. The light from them illuminated one of your favorite tattoos on him. you raised your hand to it and traced your finger over it.

 “I’ve always wondered—why the compass?”

 “It’s to commemorate me finding my direction in my life, finding my place. The church and faith are important to me, and I believe it is through the church I found my direction and have such strong faith.”

 Your throat tightened stopping the words that were coming. Thankfully because it was going to be an undignified “woah bruh that’s dope.” You must have looked a way because he cleared his throat and stepped back taking his hands with him.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—spoil the fun.”

 You turned away and dipped the duster back into a bucket. “Ehm, you didn’t. No worries.”

 A few seconds later, he approached your side and took one of the dusters and dipped as well. The two of you began splashing paint onto the walls in silence before you turned to him and flashed the duster without thinking. He was now streaked with bright pink neon paint from the side of his face down his chest and abs.

 “Oh—no—you—didn’t,” Lewis enunciated.

 Your mouth was wide open in shock. You hadn’t meant to do it.

 “I’m sorry.”

 Ignoring that, he dipped his duster and lifted it. You watched the neon yellow drip down his hand before you backed away.

 “Wait, Lewis I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

 “Oh, you will be.”

 Just like that he swung the duster and covered you in paint. You stood there in shock.

 “Ah, you’re dead!”

 You both lunged to buckets dipping your dusters and flicking paint at each other while trying to dodge the other’s attack. It was pointless because the beauty of the duster was it went everywhere. In no time, both of you were a glowing mess and laughing like children. Wanting the last laugh, you hurried to the bucket once more but slipped due to all the paint on the floor and lunged right into him tackling him to the floor. You both laughed again at the outcome.

 “That’s what you get,” he teased.

 Lewis’ hand came to your forehead and wiped then moved to your cheek and wiped again.

 “You’re covered.”

 “So are you.”

 You wiped at the paint in his beard then moved to his forehead and nose. Slowly you both stopped laughing but your hands continued moving, wiping at the paint on the other’s face. When you felt his thumb swipe your bottom lip an electric zing traveled through you which made you aware of how you were sprawled on top of him.

 “All the colors are your color,” Lewis said.

 A small smile spread across your lips, and you nodded.

 “You too.”

 Again, your eyes locked and though you knew you should have stood, you didn’t. He felt good underneath you.

 “I’ve always wondered,” Lewis began before his hand dipped to your neck. “Why are you always so cold to me?”

 It felt like someone had gut punched you. While you knew you’d kept your distance from him you never in a million years imaged he saw it as you being cold.

 “I—I’m—I’m not.”

 “You are. At first, I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable then I moved on to thinking you just didn’t like the whole spotlight and fame thing, then I got hung up on maybe you not liking me as a person.”

 “And now?”

 He studied you for a moment then breathed out. “Now I don’t know what to think.”

 You chewed your bottom lip and his eyes dropped to them.

 “It’s none of those. It’s nothing.”

 You pulled yourself up but his hand at the small of your back pulled you right back against him this time bringing your faces inches apart.

 “Then tell me what it is. Put my curiosity out if its misery.”

 “Your energy—my energy--.”

 You sighed then swallowed. “Our energies want to play together. Don’t you feel that?”

 “I’ve always felt it. Of course, I thought I was mad after a year or two.”

 You shook your head. “You’re not mad.”

 Lewis’ hand at the small of your back moved to your hip then slid down to the outside of your thigh. He then moved you, so you were straddling him. Oh fuck, you thought. He’d just made a move.

 “You feel it, I’m not mad. Where does that leave this?”

 That intoxicating thing about him was wreaking havoc on you right now. You were paying all the prices and you were coming up on broke. You had nothing else to give, no more restraints. Another moan escaped you, your second for the night. The nudge underneath you only made it worse. He was hard and from what you felt large. Before you lost all your senses, you pulled back and sprang to your feet.

 “Exactly where it’s always been for six years. I not going to be another name in the memory book—that’s just not who I am.”

 You turned and quickly walked out of the room before you changed your mind. As soon as you walked out Lina was there dragging you away.

 “What’s wrong?”

 “I found the best game. You’re gonna love it!”

 She pulled your through the halls until you came to a large room that glowed. It was then all the pain on you lit up. This party gets better and better, you thought.

 “We need one more couple for the game,” Lina said.

 “Couple? What game?”

 “What do I taste like,” Trixie shouted making everyone in the room cheer.

 Lina pushed you down onto the floor as she took her seat in front of a dark-haired clean-shaven guy with a neon painted skull on his cheek. As you looked around you realized you were the only one without someone across from them.

“I don’t have a partner.”

 “I think you do,” Lina said.

 Following her eyes, you turned and looked up. There stood Lewis.

 “Looks like we’re a destined pair,” he said as he sat in front of you.

 “We’re all here,” Lina shouted before you could protest.

 You glared at her. you couldn’t believe she’d taken a page out of Trixie’s book. She blew you a kiss before giving her attention to the man across from her.

 “The rules are simple. In the box between you there are a variety of flavors of candy. Your goal is to correctly identify them by flavor and brand, but the catch is you can’t do it by sight or touch. You can only rely of your sense of taste and smell. However, catch two, you must figure out the information by kissing the person in front of you after they’ve eaten the candy.”

 Again, the room erupted in cheers and excited applause. You just sat there marinating in how much your friends had fucked you.

 “Admissions fees first please.”

 A server walked around the room placing tablets into everyone’s mouth. You took a breath as the tablet melted away then watched Lewis.

 “Ladies first?”

 You dipped your hand into the box then looked at him waiting for him to use the blindfold sitting beside the box. He smirked then covered his eyes. You unwrapped the yellow pina colada starburst and popped it into your mouth. As you chewed, you tried to formulate a plan on how to get through this without losing control. Slowly, you leaned to him and stared at his lips. It was hard not to think that this had been six years in the making and that finally you’d get it over with.

 “Chickened out?”

 Rolling your eyes, you pressed your lips to his. It was to be quick but the second your lips touched it was like kissing an electric wall that had crazy glue. What was to be quick changed as reality hit you. His lips were impossibly soft, and full—fuller than they appeared. When you felt his hand on your chin you pulled away.

 “Come on,” he breathlessly began. “I can’t taste anything. I need more.”

 “Remember you’re competing not only with each other but time,” a server announced.

 “I don’t know about you, Y/N but I like to win, and I play to win. So, let’s do that.”

 Damn his competitiveness, you thought before you crashed your lips to his again this time feeding him your tongue. His moan vibrated against your lips then you felt him suck on your tongue. Good lord you thought just as he pulled back.

 “Pina colada and I think it’s starburst. I have some.”

 He lowered the corner of his blindfold and locked eyes with you. “Delicious.”

 You swallowed and lowered your eyes.

 “My turn.”

 He handed you the eye mask then dug into the box. Submerged in darkness, you found your anxiety catapulting to the ceiling. The longer he took, the more anxious you became and the more anxious you became the louder you felt your heart thumping.

 “I think you’ll like this one,” he muttered.

 You waited and waited but still nothing happened. Just when you were ready to yank off the mask you felt his tongue trace your bottom lip. An unexpected whimper slipped out, but Lewis didn’t stop, he trailed his tongue over your top lip before he pressed his lips to yours and sucked your top lip. When you felt his hand at the back of your neck, your mouth opened on its own allowing him to kiss you deeper. Somehow this didn’t feel like it was part of the game. It felt different.

 “Any guesses?”

 His breath brushed against your face giving you a vital clue to the flavor. Now only if you could find your voice.

 “S—s—strawberry skit—skittles.”

 Lewis lowered your blindfold bringing his smile into focus. “Good job. Told you that you’d like it. I know strawberries are your favorite.”

 Breaking the eye contact you handed him the mask and dipped into the box as he was covering his eyes. You bit into the bite sized almond joy and moaned. You loved almond joy. When you pressed your lips to his you both moaned. This time it didn’t take long for your tongues to find each other and when they did you unconsciously scooted closer to him and melted just a little.

 “Almond joy,” Lewis whispered against your lips.

 Turn after turn you each ate a candy and kissed the other and kiss after kiss blurred any lines that were between you. Each kiss descended deeper into the realm of attraction and desire and further from staying away from each other. By the time there were only 4 couples left from the previous eliminations you and Lewis were kissing freely, happily and hungrily. It had long stopped being about the game or competitiveness it was now something else—deep yearning maybe.

 You ignored the whispers around you about how you and he made a good team and how good you looked together. It was not something that you could afford to let sink into your head no matter how much you’d began wanting in with each passing round.

 “All right, two couples left. Last one.”

 You dug in and opened the foil wrapped and popped the chocolate into your mouth. Instantly you could tell it was some Nutella concoction. This was going to be easy for him. Wasting no time, you kissed him and in seconds he pulled away.

 “Nutella bomb.”

 Everyone cheered and jumped around at your victory but instead of him doing the same he pulled you to him and kissed you again. Your legs were draped over his thighs with the now empty box between you, the only thing separating your nether regions. Lewis moaned on you pulling yours from your chest. He brought his hand to your jaw and kissed you deeper, swearing his tongue with yours and teasing it. The man could kiss, he more than could kiss, he should be kissed every day. The image of him manning a kissing booth flashed into your head at that moment and it was a good look for him.

 Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back holding nothing back. It felt damn good to let go and just do.

 “Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled you up to straddle him for the second time that night and for the second time you felt his erection. “Y/N—I—I need you.”

 His hand cupped your ass and squeezed as he brought you closer making you feel just how true those words were. A shadow caught your eye and you pulled from him. The room was now empty with only the two of you in it.

 “I need to go.”

 You stood and staggered out of the room. This time you had no intention of stopping until you got outside. However, once you got down the stairs you felt someone lift you and throw you over their shoulders.

 “What the hell! Put me down!”

 You pounded a bare back that you could barely make up thanks to the darkness throughout the house. One detail looked familiar, the cross tattoo.

 “Lewis? Lewis put me down!”

 He walked through the party, around people who all laughed and cheered him on. No one seemed to want to help or seem to think they needed to. A few minutes later, Lewis brought you both into a large room with an even larger bed that he threw you across.

 “What the actual fuck! What are you doing?”

 “Making you finally talk to me. Don’t you think six years is long enough?”

 You didn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Hell yeah you thought six years was long enough.

 “Fine. I’ll go first. I like you, Y/N. I like you a fucking a lot. I have since we met.”

 You had to fight your jaw from dropping. He liked you?

 “And before you call bullshit let me stop you. It’s not bullshit. I like everything about you. I even like that you didn’t want to become like the other girls. I like that you’re the only one who keeps me at a distance. Everyone else tries their damndest to pull me closer, keep me with them. Not you. I like that you have morals and standards and that you won’t lower them for no one no matter their fame status or anything. I like that you have integrity and that you’ve worked hard for everything you currently have. I love your hustle, your drive. I like that you don’t feel the need to party all the time and can stand yourself at home alone. I like that you can turn into this bombshell who is the life of the party and can make anyone feel comfortable in seconds with only a smile and a hug. You have no idea how truly amazing you are. I even like that you didn’t want to kiss me and have never tried to sleep with me. I like that only you have had me questioning my own appeal and worth to a woman beyond money and fame.”

 He was not standing directly in front of you.

 “I—like—you.”

 You dropped onto the bed and sat at the edge.

 “I’m losing my mind keeping all of this from you. I can’t keep it in any longer. I know we’re not friends, not exactly, though I’ve always thought of you as one. I can’t be your friend or whatever we are anymore. I don’t want to be.”

 You sat there speechless as his words hit you one by one as if English was your second or third language. I like you. He liked you. He liked you?

 “You like me?”

 Lewis snorted then smiled and your belly fluttered. “You’re unbelievable. Of course, you didn’t know. I swore you knew and that was one of the reasons you were keeping your distance.”

 He placed his hand on top of his head then shook it. You kept your eyes on him still unable to believe his words.

 “You like me?”

 Lewis turned back to you and came a little closer. “Yes. I like you, Y/N.”

 “How? Wait—why?”

 The look he gave you said that he thought you were nuts. You couldn’t help it though. This was Lewis Hamilton; he could have any and every single woman in the world. He’d been with countless women, models, actresses, and singers. You were so opposite the women he’d naturally gravitate to, and it made you anxious and hesitant to believe him.

 “Why is that so hard to believe?”

 You proceeded to list off the names of the women you’d heard from Lina and Trixie that he’d been with. Every name drop brought the clench of his jaw; with every name he avoided your eyes. By the time you were done the silence in the room stretched. After a minute or two he sighed out.

 “They have plenty of things in common, but I have nothing in common with them.”

 “Thank God. Look I know I have a past—a colorful one. There have been a lot of rumors and a lot of media coverage on what I may or may not have done or who I may or may not have been involved with. I get it but it’s just that, my past.”

 Thinking back, you hadn’t seen much news about him with anyone within the last few years. all thot behavior had been absent from the media. Part of you thought he’d gotten better at protecting his privacy but hearing him now was it possible that he’d been abstaining.

 “I’ve been trying to stay focused on my plan and my goals and for me that meant work and nothing else. When Lina and Trixie introduced you to me, I had to up my discipline in staying focused. You made it hard.”

 The way your heart rattled you could have sworn he heard it but rather than asking what was so loud he continued confessing as if you were a priest. Everything he said was like fluffy cotton candy, sweet and tender but for some reason you struggled to believe it completely. Your anxiety got the better of you then.

 “What are you saying Lewis?”

 He took your hand then slowly laced his fingers with yours. The contrast was beautiful. His larger, much more tatted and evidently used for hard manual work, yours smaller, and dainty looking as if you’d never worked a day in your life compared to his. They looked so good together—so right.

 “I want to stay focused on my goals, I have so much accomplish but every time I see you, you make me want to find a place for you beside me, a place for you not only in my life right now but my future.”

 Your eyes bugged. You shook your head trying to clear any haze in your head that may have made you mishear.

 “What? How? Why? This is so--sudden.”

 “It’s not. It’s been five years in the making. Five years of me debating with myself, five years of me taking steps closer to you only to rescind those steps, five years of me planning, working and making moves to make that place for you, make the changes so this could have a chance in hell of working, so we could work.”

 His eyes were too sincere to be bullshitting you. The energy coming off of him felt too genuine for this to be a ruse or him spitting game for some ass in this fog filled neon colored room. He was being truthful—vulnerable. You had no words though. You couldn’t trust your voice, much less being this close to him. More than ever the energy around him bombarded him.

 Suddenly the door busted open, and a few cheering bodies rushed in.

 “Come on, the powder fight’s started!”

 Yanking your hand back, you sprang to your feet while maintaining eye contact with Lewis. His face was now clouded with mask of indifference that you were kind of impressed with. In the span of five seconds, he’d been able to go from on to off without a trace. Before you could speak you were pulled out of the room and through the house to the expansive backyard that was clouded with a multitude of colored powder wafting in the air. Everyone laughed, screamed and cheered as they threw balloons at each other.

 A balloon collided with your stomach then burst open scattering yellow powder everywhere. When you turned you saw Lina laughing as she came to you with her arms open. As she pulled you into a hug, both of you spun around. You couldn’t help but laugh with her, that was how infectious her mood was.

 “Woooooo!”

 She slammed another balloon onto you right into your right boob and pink powder spilled out of it.

 “Get into it!”

 She handed off two balloons to you before she turned and threw the others she held onto. Spinning around, you looked into the air at the colors blending together and blowing in the soft breeze then laughed as you closed your eyes allowing yourself to enjoy the moment. You felt weightless, and free like you had not a worry in the world. The confession from Lewis from before was a distant memory in your head but your heart remembered. You’d fought this for years and the night you decided to let your guard down was the night he decided to change the rules.

The music around you got louder and louder, tuning out the shouts and screams of everyone around you and as you danced happily and freely, you threw balloons in random directions. You must have been an easy target because you felt balloon after balloon pound against your body. Before long, you were completely covered in powder of all colors, and you were having the time of your life. A strong breeze swept by and cleared some of the powder in the air enough for you to make out Lewis across the way. He too was covered in powder with a wide smile across his lips.

 You stood there frozen as that smile hit you in the gut unfurling everything you’d felt over the years. All the longing, the desire, the yearning and hope surged through you so fast you didn’t have time to push them down. Lewis’ eyes locked onto yours and you watched him lick his lips in the sinfully slow way he always did that drove millions wild. You mirrored the action and a taste of fruit punch hit your tastebuds. It was then you realized the powder was flavored like the powder in those fun stick dips.

 Lewis took slow steps toward you. Even when the breeze stopped, and the powder cloud thickened to the point where you lost sight of him you still felt him stalking closer like a predator. Several moments passed where all you saw was colored powder, then suddenly you saw his face before yours before it disappeared again. Turning your head from side to side you looked for him, then found his eyes to your right. He was circling you.

 Before you could reach out for him, you felt his hand on your hip and his body behind yours. You didn’t dare speak, instead you stood perfectly still nonverbally giving him permission to any and everything he wanted.

 “Dance with me?”

 You slowly nodded your head before you began swaying your body against his. Your movements at first were timid. You didn’t want to cross a line that you knew there was no coming back from, but you also wanted to test his limits, see how close you could get to that line. When your ass brushed against his crotch, Lewis groaned into your ear his lip skimming it. He was hard.

 “Fuck, Y/N. I’m good at control. Every minute of every day I am in control, but Christ do you strip me of it every single time I’m near you.”

 Your entire being filled with glee and the lite feeling of intoxication. Again, you brushed your ass on him and this time he squeezed your hip keeping you pressed on his throbbing cock.

 “Mmm.”

 “You like the way I feel against you? You like knowing you make me harder than I’ve ever been in my life? Hm?”

 Like you were puppet and he the puppeteer you nodded, mind in a haze, body in a frenzy from not only his proximity but the sound of his voice and his breath teasing your ear and neck. Part of you wondered if this is how other women felt when he was near. Did they automatically lose their senses, did their bodies instantly take over and overheat, did everything in them scream to just be touched, bent over, and spanked?

 Lewis moaned again but a second later he was gone and in front of you with one arm around your back and the other on your hip. Using those large skillful hands, he moved your body the way he wanted. The reggae song blasting around you set the perfect tone for all of the unspoken words hanging between you. You placed your hand on his shoulder, using him as your brace, your legs were pointless right now especially with the way he was holding you and where he’d decided to put his leg.

 The heat from his body was scorching and burned your fingers but not with fire or pain, the more you touched his bare skin the more you wanted to feel. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingertips teased the back of the gold and diamond chain he wore and everything you’d wanted in the last five years came forefront. Him. Lewis pulled his face back and looked into your eyes keeping you captivated.

 “I’m in love with you.”

 He’d found the right moment to kick the rest of your walls down, the right moment to destroy you. With nothing else to do you crashed your lips to his. A burst of rainbow flavors reached your tastebuds. It tasted like every flavor in your mouth, fruit punch, grape, lemon, orange, pineapple, mango and so many more.

 “Mmm.”

 Lewis pulled you flush against him and truly kissed you for the first time. The kisses you’d exchanged during the candy tasting game didn’t hold a flame to this kiss. His lips were warm and soft and so full. When you slightly parted yours, his tongue slipped inside your mouth and wrapped around yours. The way his hand gripped your back screamed of the amount of power he held in just one hand. As your bodies pressed together heatedly, you melted into him finally allowing yourself to give in to the sensations rushing through you.

 You could feel every muscle of his broad chest and every single well defined ab muscle. The way his heart thudded against your chest matched the rapid race of currently happening in your own chest. His scent made your knees buckle. It was a scent unique to him, a scent that was purely masculine and completely sultry and a scent that you reacted to in ways you’d never reacted to any other. You moaned again then sank your teeth into his bottom lip, teasing him, tempting him to take more. Lewis responded with his hand slipping to the top of your ass where he hesitated for only a moment before he went lower and squeezed the swell of your ass.

 “Uuuugh.”

 It was muffled against your lips, but you got his meaning. Bringing your hands to his shoulders, you gripped the collar of his shirt and balled it within your fists. The urge to strip him came suddenly and it was an urge you listened to. You pulled at the fabric and pulled it off of his shoulder then fully off his body. Now with him bare, your hands roamed muscled canvas of his back, pressing to memory every indent, slope and bulge. He was sheer perfection. Lewis nudged you forward as if needing you closer. Abandoning your feet, you used him to hoist yourself onto your tiptoes and he took the hint and lifted you into his arms.

 With your legs wrapped around his waist you could feel the prominent bulge in his pants with more definition. He was large no doubt and your body wanted him so desperately. Lewis tore his lips from yours and latched them onto your neck, licking, sucking and nibbling your flesh. Your moans turned to mewls as you squeezed him tighter and tighter the wetter and wetter you got. You were so lost in the way his lips felt against your skin that you didn’t register anything else but the butterflies in your gut, the goosebumps that remained dotted across your body, the tightness in your chest from the rapid way your heart pounded begging for the words inside to be released.

When you felt your back press against a hard surface you groaned, then the slam of a door then you were discarded into a sea of soft silk that smelled like fresh linen. Opening your eyes for the first time in several minutes, you found Lewis standing just above you. You did a quick survey of your surroundings but only made out a bed, three walls and a large neon mural just behind you on the wall thanks to the darkness. The walls were lit up with the same neon colors you’d seen all night which told you were still on the property, but the muffled sounds of music told you that you were far enough from the happenings of the party.

“I find it funny how you’ve brought me to yet another bedroom.”

 A sly grin spread across his face.

 “If you wanted to get me into bed all you had to do was ask,” you finished.

 His grin disappeared. “No, I don’t want to get you in bed, Y/N. I swear it. I just--,” he rushed out before you snorted and pulled him on top of you by the waistband of his pants. The weight of him on top of you surged your arousal.

 “Shup up Lewis,” you teasingly muttered before kissing him again.

 As you kissed you rolled over the bed taking turns with who was on top of whom and who kissed whom with more fever, and passion. When you finally rolled onto him you straddled his hips and attacked his neck. His groan was hearty and guttural, but a few seconds later he gripped you by your arms and held you back a few inches from him.

 “Wait, you know that this isn’t what I want from you right?”

 “Yes.”

 “We don’t have to--.”

 Again, you cut him off with your lips. Biting and teasing them had become your favorite way to enjoy them. sucking it into your mouth made his cock lurch underneath you.

 “Mmm, you like that.”

 “Pretty sure I’m so far gone I’d like anything you do.”

 Smiling you peppered kisses down to his chin then his neck across his Adam’s apple and to that dip under his throat. Once there, Lewis arched slightly as he squeezed your arms that weren’t holding you back any longer. You gripped his hands, laced your fingers with his and pressed them to the soft cushion of the bed then descended down his body with kisses and licks enjoying the rainbow of flavors that had become part of him.

 When you licked then bit his hardened nipple he hissed and flexed his hands. There was something about knowing that he could easily overpower you if he wanted to and was letting you tease him this way that made you even wetter for him. His reactions to your mouth was like fuel for you. After kissing each and every ab muscle, your lips made it to his obliques where you nipped his skin making his cock nudge your chin.

 “Fuck! I’m so hard for you right now.”

 “Still don’t want this from me?”

 Lewis flipped you onto your back in a fluid move then pinned your hands above your head as he stared into your eyes. “No. I still don’t want this from you. I want so much more.”

 Your heart skipped a beat, your lady parts clenched, and your belly fluttered.

 “Like what?”

 He smiled softly then kissed your forehead. “Breakfast with you each and every morning.” He kissed your nose. “Shopping spree lunches that get frisky in the dressing rooms. His lips teased yours as his soft breath tickled the space under your nose. “Romantic dinners every night over candlelight while I hold your hand and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

 When he kissed your lips fully then dipped to your neck you arched your back off the bed.

 “Vacations in every corner of the globe.” He dropped a few kisses in a line to the top of your breast. “You at the pit for every one of my races.” His teeth grazed your skin before he circled his nose around your pert nipple that was begging for his attention. “You at family dinners, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and every holiday and day in between.”

 Warmth blossomed in your chest and your heart threatened to explode from your chest.

 “I want it all, Y/N, but I only want it all with you. Only you will ever do.”

 Silence stretched between you and in this moment, you no longer knew why you’d held back, why you’d stayed away, or why you’d tortured yourself for five years when you both clearly felt the same way about each other. This wasn’t game or a ruse, he had no reason to go this far. This wasn’t about a conquest; he could conquer any other woman. This was real. It had to be. You freed your hands from his grip then slowly felt his face tracing every detail, the small worry lines etched into his forehead, the full arch of his brows, down to his perfectly symmetrical nose and his artfully crafted cupid’s bow. As you felt his lips and bearded chin you decided you’d give him everything he wanted while hoping it led to forever.

 Softly you kissed him, slowly letting your lips press the feel of his to memory so you could revisit it later. His kiss was like sin, and it was a sin you’d gladly rapture again and again with no regrets. Lewis moaned just as you did but he didn’t take control of the kiss, he allowed you to explore him and control what happened next. You knew it was a major feat for him. He rarely ever relinquished control.

 You trailed your hands from his face down to his shoulders then down his chest and abs to his pants then began undoing them. His eyes opened at the same time yours did, but your lips didn’t stop moving. Both of you hesitated for a moment.

 “I’m in love with you too,” you whispered.

 The way he stared at you made your heart feel as if his hand gripped it.

 “Do you mean that?”

 You nodded and the joy you saw on his face made you smile almost as widely as he was smiling. Lewis kissed you again just as you began pushing his pants off his waist. He quickly stood at the foot of the bed and peeled them off. You almost jumped his bones once he stood there in nothing but his boxer-briefs. There were so many rumors about how large he was, but this was the first time you were understanding those rumors to be all fact. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you looked over all the glorious skin on display then sat up as if being pulled by an invisible string.

 You pressed your lips to his abs as you raked your nails down his back. Both actions elicited a loud hiss from him.

 “You’re so sexy.”

 “Me?”

 You nodded again then licked a trail over the powder on his abs and moaned. Lewis reached down, holding out his hand for you to take. When you did, he stood you on top of the bed making you to a few inches taller than him.  He traced the tips of his fingers up your sides until he dipped them underneath you top. He then lifted off the tube top to your matching cycling shorts then tossed it to the side. You stood before him as he slowly took in your bare breasts. He took his sweet time before he finally touched you, cupping them in his large hands. When he swirled his tongue around the bud you moaned and watched him work.

 “Mmm.”

 He slowly ravished them, licking, sucking, nibbling, and teasing your nipples until you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging his head to them. He lifted you into his arms holding you just below your ass as he devoured you. When he laid you back on the bed, he moved his mouth to your right breast as he massaged the left.

 “Jesus, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

 “Everything you imagined?”

 His grin reemerged. “Better!”

 Lewis peppered kisses down the center of your body to your belly button before dipping his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to wiggle from the tickle, you bit your bottom lip and gripped the sheets. Before Lewis made any other moves, he glanced up at you.

 “Are you sure?”

 “So fucking sure.”

 With that he gripped the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down. Once they were fully off, you left your legs in the air wanting to make him work for it.

 “Making me work for my meal?”

 Smirking you arched onto your elbow and watched him. Lewis pried your thighs apart pressing them to the bed. His eyes darted to your thighs, and you knew he was fully taking in your flexibility.

 “Better than a daydream and a wet dream could never.”

 He dropped down and kissed a path along your leg up to your inner thigh then to your pelvis.

 “Mmm.”

 He mirrored the same actions to your right leg and thigh then teased the flesh just underneath your belly button.

 “Such a tease.”

 “Princess, I haven’t even begun to tease you.”

 The butterflies in your belly picked up in anticipation. You had to fight to remain slightly composed. You didn’t want him to know just how open he had you—not yet. When he kissed your pubis, you moaned softly. Then he gave one long lick along your covered slit. The sensation was dulled but it felt amazing, nonetheless.

 “Damn girl.”

 You watched hm slip your panties to the side then suck his bottom lip.

 “You’re so wet.”

 You couldn’t help but smile shyly. The secret of just how badly you wanted him was out. Lewis trailed his pointer along your slit circling your entrance before he lifted his finger to show you the proof, as if you needed it.

 “Do you want me?”

 You instantly nodded but you refused to be embarrassed by it. Lewis sucked his finger clean and moaned before he dropped his lips to your clit, kissing you with an open mouth. When you felt the suction, you arched and reached for his head. Digging your fingers into his twists, you lost yourself in how good his mouth felt on you.

 “Mmm, fuck girl you taste so good.”

 He didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he buried his head again this time slurping your flesh.

 “Oh fucking---fuck!”

 Lewis moaned as he did it again and again. When you expected a fourth slurp he switched up and flicked his tongue against your clit making your gut knot. You were not going to last long; you knew it now and from the way you held on to his hair and whimpered he must have known it too. You tried to close your thighs, but he wasn’t having it. He kept his hands pressed to your inner thighs stopping any movement he didn’t permit.

 “Fuck, Lewis!”

 The pattern of his tongue sent you to another plane of existence and the way he knew just what to do for how long left you speechless.

 “Look at me.”

 The command in his voice hit with such force your head snapped up and your eyes met his. It was then he slipped two fingers inside of you as he sucked on your clit. Your whining increased as you felt your orgasm drawing nearer. In record time you dropped your head back and screeched out not caring who heard you.

 “Fuuuuuuck! Mmmmm!”

 Lewis didn’t stop. The mischievous glint in his eyes said he knew what he was doing, and he intended to pull another orgasm from you before he stopped.

 “Oh god, yes, yes, yes!”

 Just like that it was over and still he kept your thighs pressed to the bed. When he emerged his cocky smile was what he wore like a medal of honor as he dragged his tongue up your body and over your nipple. Capturing his lips, you moaned then wrapped your legs around his waist rubbing your wetness against his sheathed hardness. Using your feet, you pushed his underwear off his hips and down his thighs. The heaviness of his cock rested against your slick entrance and that was all it took for your hunger to reach max levels.

 “Shit, you test all of my control,” he mumbled on your lips.

 “Lose your control then.”

 “Think you can handle that?”

 For emphasis he rocked against you nudging your clit with his member. You moaned and squeezed your thighs tighter.

 “I hear death by dick isn’t a bad way to go.”

 He snorted then reached between your bodies to swipe his cock along your slit. You peeped down needing to see just how good this death would be. Your jaw dropped almost instantly from what you saw. He was large, thick and so fucking intimidating. Were you intimidated? Not at all. That was probably a mistake, and your ravenous desire was to blame but you didn’t pause to think about it. You watched Lewis swipe himself through your folds again and again getting even more mesmerized by the sight every time he did it. When your eyes locked you knew you were a goner.

 Lewis leaned forward then licked across your lips in the nastiest way. You couldn’t help but tip your tongue out to his and wrap it around before you sucked it. His moan was deep, and the vibration did something otherworldly to you. With your foreheads pressed together you both panted as if you’d run a marathon, relishing the feelings floating between you. When you’d said your energies wanted to play together this was exactly what you meant. There was something indescribable happening between you, something intense, something that burned so hot, so bright and so violently that the threat of complete destruction was ever present.

 The first feel of him pressing into you had your eyes snapping open to lock onto his. He took it slow, making sure you felt everything, not wanting to skim over anything. Your jaw dropped as your body stretched to accommodate him. Neither of you spoke, neither wanting to break whatever spell that had been cast and was driving you both insane. You sank your nails into the flesh at his waist as the feel of him threatened to make you black out. When you thought you couldn’t take another inch, Lewis pulled back then plunged forth again taking you by surprise.

 “Oh fuck! Lewis!”

 His groan was low and the look on his face spoke of complete focus. You could tell he was holding back. Your heart swelled giving you the courage to forge ahead taking the initiative to take more of him. He looked at you in disbelief like he couldn’t believe you were real. Snapping his hips forward, he sheathed himself to the hilt. Your back levitated off of the bed as you rode out your orgasm.

 “Jesus. You’re tight,” he struggled out through gritted teeth.

 You circled your hips so he could feel just how tight.

 “You’re--playing with—fire.”

 “Burn me daddy!”

 That was all it took for him to press your hands to the bed and thrust into you setting the pace that said he was not holding back anymore. Your moans and pants filled the room and created the base for your skin slapping together on the soundtrack of love making. Your name slipped from his lips over and over as he plowed into you. Every time his hips flicked forward you clenched around him and every time you clenched the next thrust crippled you. Within short minutes you’d cum again but he didn’t look like he was anywhere near finishing. Before you could cum again, he managed to flip you onto your stomach. When you felt him smack your ass with his dick you instinctively twerked on him.

 “Fucking---Christ!”

 He remained still watching your ass shake and bounce against his cock. Once you got into it, he hoisted your ass in the air then laid an open mouth kiss on your pussy.

 “Shit, yes!”

 His tongue licked across you as he slurped and shook his head making an even bigger mess. You could barely breath by the time your next release brought your eyes to the back of your head. In one swift move, Lewis lowered you to the bed then slammed into you making you cum undone once again.

 “Shit!”

 The bed shook, your body quivered, and your bodies dripped with sweat but still he didn’t stop, or slow down. You knew he’d lost complete control, but you didn’t care you were right there with him and come what may you were going to take everything he gave.

 “Shit, Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum.”

 “Not yet. Fuck—me!”

 As if that was the command he’d been waiting for, Lewis pulled you up by the back of your neck, hugged you to him with a firm grip of your hips and jackhammered into you, showing not one ounce of mercy. You screamed and melted against him as you lost your shit and sanity. With his other hand, he cupped your breast and pinched your nipple sending you even higher.

 “Y/N,” he whispered on a strangled breath and seconds later you felt his thrusts stagger until he’d snapped forward one final time releasing himself dragging one final shout from both of your lips. You toppled over and Lewis came with you collapsing on top of you.

 You didn’t know how long the two of you remained entangled there like that with nothing but the distance sounds of music and screams of the party still happening mere feet away. You were floating so high and seeing so many stars that you didn’t care about anything else.

 “Mmmm, do you see what you do to me?”

 Your body lifted and by the time your eyes fluttered open you realized your back was pressed to Lewis’ chest as he spooned you from behind keeping his half-hardened length nestled between your folds.

 “Mm-nh, What?”

 Your voice was unrecognizable. It was more like a hoarse croak.

 “You make me lose control.”

 “Good,” you croaked out. This time you couldn’t hold back your snort.

 “What’s so funny?”

 Clearing your throat, the best you could you spoke, “You made me lose my voice.”

 Lewis thrusted forward showing you he was quickly nearing ready for round two.

 “Shit baby girl, I’m gonna make you lose more than that. Your walls and your sanity are on the agenda for the night.”

 You squealed as you laughed. Another thrust forward had you stopping.

 “This dick ain’t nothing to laugh at girl.”

 He rolled onto his back taking you with him, so you were straddling him reverse cowgirl style. Just like that he came alive standing at full attention.

 “Oh god Lewis.”

 “I’ll ask again—think you can handle that?”

 You heard the challenge in his voice and the competitiveness in you sparked. You leaned forward to brace yourself on his ankles you lifted your ass up giving him the perfect view of the art that was your bodies. Lewis groaned then dropped a heavy hand onto your ass.

 “Mmm.”

 “Fuck, this dick looks so good inside of you.”

 He slapped your ass again and again as you slowly slid him back in. You could feel him dripping out of you and would have given anything to see what he saw.

 “Fuck, so beautiful, princess. Make me fill that pussy up again.”

 He thrust his hips up making you clench around him just before you began the show hell bent on giving him the ride of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @mauvecherie-writes​ @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans​ @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757  @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart 

@keytodespair @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329  @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour @alookintohersoul  @asiaaisa77 @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22 @mrsbarnes-rogers  @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9  @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @queenoftheworldisdead  @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life 

@coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita @raveviolet @dumbchick  @amennariee @briellableu @leebabe444 @31miw-inkpsycho @rororo06  @disaster-rose @bugngiz @valkryienymph @yourwonderbelle @queenbetter  @melaninhawtie 

#taste the rainbow one shot #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x black reader #black fanfiction

[unsleepingtales]

Episode two ayyyyyyy! Once again this is really long soz

The hype this intro fills me with is unreal.

Siobhan’s daily affirmations “this intro is not a tongue twister and is very easy to say”

The auld lang syne reference cracks me up because we know for sure that both Brennan and Siobhan do actually know the words to auld lang syne, because they sang them in the Unsleeping City finale, but they’re mumbling through it here so as not to disrupt the bit and I love them for it <3

Today’s spelling of Daniel’s last name: Fũks

(I had to look up “u with a tilde” to get that and then copy paste it in bc it’s not available on an english keyboard lmao)

God the whole pleasure district is shut down. Losing my mind at this.

Detective Hunch Curio: Vampire

I attempt to steal the child :|

A full on arms race lmao

They keep calling him The Child

Look at you!!

Imelda <3 they are best friends you’re right babe

There’s always so much banter!

Hank I hate to break it to you but dogs do in fact get hurt in this show.

(Gonna kill that dog 🤪😛✌️)

Why has “you’re my best friend” become such a thing in this show lmao first pib in neverafter now this

Siobhan looks wonderful this episode. She always does, but her hair looks particularly lovely here.

I love how Danielle is playing into the reporter thing

God this is sad.

Lore unlock!

Mind reading is fascinating in this context

BANGS

Glossaries!!! I want to know what’s in those oh my gosh

You paid attention to the way that I behave good for you!

Hank what

What

You have been known to whisk!

Imelda <3

How long has he been waiting to say The Fix and the Fucks because that’s Great

Imelda going “it’s me, he knows me” is giving big “I killed him, yeah” vibes

He finds children quite fun! They’re good folk!

On behalf of ALL CHILDREN

The child personification of the conscience realizing that it has power is wild

FACT ALERT

I love that the facts can be comforting and not just threats

Aww they literally light up when they’re happy

A whole glass of grenadine oh god that sounds awful

Yeahhh that’s a good stick

The intense eye contact on room temperature vodka

A CALZONE??

Sure ok love that

Ngl I could go for a calzone rn. My brother makes great calzones.

I love it when people use their class feats

They’re rivals it’s healthy it’s fine

“Nothing fans of actual play love more than a murderer” “aww but he’s a good murderer” he’s onto us fuck-

Can I ask you a question? / (sad and scared) Okay -> ME ANY TIME ANYONE ASKS ME THAT

Literally what am I gonna say to that. No? You think I’m gonna say no when you ask me if you can ask me a question?

Imelda that sounded Pointy do you have Lore

I love this world

That seems like a reasonable idea Imelda but you seem too invested in it and I want to know why

Listen sometimes players set things up for us too well and you end up getting excited. Sometimes the party wants to separate of their own accord!

Conrad and The Fix are the two most straightforward communicators and them hanging out is great.

A bread bowl made out of muffin to hold coffee grounds that you eat. Augh.

If I was writing a story ;)

Dome antics!

What shocked Elias? Why is he having such a major fight or flight reaction?

Ooh reflex switches fun

Yes he does!

This person is scrambling so much

I do not know enough about biology for this what comes from the scalp that would require shock troopers??

Babe what

I’ll reprimand you greatly! And loudly! So that everyone looks at us!

Let’s hear it for FEATS

Tropes!

Ooooooh dome animation

BLOOD?

Jesus christ Brennan is not holding back on the cop hate this season. Love him for it.

What hold on what

Pain responder oh god

HEAD INJURY???

Did someone fucking brain him in an alley after work because he took the file or is he just being mugged or something

Also. Shock officers not allowing the information that he’s been injured to reach his consciousness.

Cell phone? Cell phone would be a heavy thing vibrating near that area if it’s in his pocket?

Actually finding a partner is Not on the priority list for your government at the moment sorry. Why are you lying to this man.

What

Oh yeah he might not be conscious actually. The eyes are closed.

We love completely improvised lore

Fucks (expletive)

They share a courtyard probably

Conrad’s home is gonna make me so sad I already know

Man sometimes people say things and. We just have to live with them yk.

(Brennan makes that “hlblbblblhblhb” sound)

Sitting in this discomfort is so good actually. There is discomfort and uncertainty and fear here and that is good.

Ichabod. What was Ichabod the wayward interest?

HELP Conrad was so resigned to dying Alex nodded like yeah that makes sense

FACT ALERT

I relate to The Fix in that I also will share random facts in the hope that it will make someone feel better.

If there was an amount of dead he didn’t want you, he wouldn’t have called me. DAMN.

Hank so genuinely lit up at the compliment

That’s Hank talking.

What is happening and why do I feel about it

I do feel bad that like. The kid’s losing his home.

Repressed trauma memory!

Oh god okay so his conscience made him defend his little sister and it ended incredibly traumatically so the lesson he learned from that was that listening to your conscience gets you hurt and he learned that as a child! So he never had a chance to see that that wasn’t the whole story!

(thoroughly impacted) Okay.

Levity!

Still find it fascinating that the actual university is in the red light district.

Is it no longer the middle of the night? Wasn’t it the middle of the night? Why are students just now heading to the Big Game

Just a flat no. Love it.

Ammon’s Horn Memorial * look up later

He’s dabbling in the arts!

Oh god but really it makes so much sense that the brain university defunded the arts years ago. Like within the context of who this guy is and how harshly all distractions are dealt with it makes perfect sense that they don’t have art classes.

DC 20 😭

STEM only :(

Lady you are not poor-

Silly little woman :)

HELL YEAH SIOBHAN

Psychometer

Add something fun!

Of course, every time a memory is recalled, it is altered! We demand that you add something cute and fun. Love that.

We try to have fun here

Hunch now is the time to let it GO

We need Stacy Fakename merch

You’re frickin haunted man

Oh god he got jumped.

Let’s just steal it!

De’lux meaning of light. Oy.

(Brennan makes a sound of satisfaction with his punnery)

Exceeded the dc by 10!!

Trapp uses moxie so freely

Oh they’re all getting jumped. Like host body like mental functions I guess?

Ugh, wool! So naturally oily and slippery!

The Fix and his traits <3

Ol’ Johnny Gullible

FEATS <3

New life!

FACT ALERT

He’s gonna break all those bones

WHAT

He’s so terrifying without trying

What a wild sequence of events

Bro I would also dissolve into mist if someone looked me in the eyes and talked to me like that.

I’m low key worried about what happens if they restore vision without anyone in the buildings to distill the raw visuals

DEFENESTRATION

Oh my GOD

Oh my god.

Oh my god????

(cheerful jazz music)

#mentopolis #HANK #Siobhan #The Fix #imelda pulse #verbal component #reactions

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Okay, I read your other FD story too, and now I really really need more Fierce Dadity!!

Maybe, in connection to the other one, Sky gets hurt in battle, and he and Time are separated from the others for some reason, and Time has to pull out the mask, and then Fierce talk to Sky and goes all Dad mode on him? Especially about him thinking Time didn’t care about him?

Ayyyyyyy I like the premise! :D I’m tweaking it a bit and starting to write a part 3 for Fierce Revelations. In the meantime, have a snippet! @ajscico all aboard the Fierce Dadity (WIP) choo choo train!

XXX

Sky breathed slowly as he tried to keep his chest open without jostling his cracked ribs. Hylia this hurt. If there was one wound that he hated more than any other, it was anything that affected his ribs. Breathing was a struggle sometimes anyway, he didn't need more obstacles to that.

Rubbing over the smooth wood of the Fierce Deity's mask absentmindedly, Sky closed his eyes and tried to focus on something other than the pain.

Sky? Is that you? Why are you hurting? What happened?

Startled, Sky jumped mildly, making his chest feel like it was being stabbed. He gasped lightly, squeezing the mask, and Time tossed him a worried glance from his pouch. Sky tried to give a reassuring smile, too breathless to speak, and he saw the old man resume his search, his mouth a thin line.

Ah, I scared you, didn't I? Did you forget we could speak together?

Biting his lip, Sky nodded slightly, and then with a moan he remembered that the Fierce Deity wouldn't see that. He squeezed out an acknowledgement through gritted teeth. "Yes."

Thankfully, Time was far enough away that he wouldn't hear Sky's soft words. The last thing he wanted to do right now was explain why he was talking to himself.

Who else is there? Are you alone? Are you safe?

"Old man," he grounded out, feeling his chest slowly ease back to its previous baseline pain rather than the searing, stabbing sensation that had torn through him when he'd moved.

Old Man? Like... ah, Link. That's right.

Sky leaned back a little, closing his eyes and trying to relax.

So, then you’re safe, right? What happened?

Growing steadily more exasperated, Sky muttered, “Can’t talk.”

Because of the pain? Just put me on, then, I’ll take care of--

The voice abruptly stopped. Sky peeled open an eye to look down at the mask. “You there?”

It hurts to put the mask on. I... I forgot. Does Link know you’re hurt?

“Mm-hmm.”

Well then for heaven’s sake, tell him to get to it and patch you up!

Sky felt laughter bubbling in his chest and he fought hard to stop it. In the end it made the pain worse either way. He hissed, garnering Time’s attention.

“‘m fine,” Sky said, trying to raise his voice above a whisper.

You’re not fine, child, tell him that! Honestly, you’re not afraid he’ll get upset, are you? You know he doesn’t hate you, right?

Sky blanched.

#you ask Skye answers #fierce revelations #fierce dadity #I can't say when I'll actually post the next part but it shouldn't be too long #like maybe a week tops? #I shouldn't put a number to it lol #this is gonna come back and haunt me now that I've said it #lovely silvercaptain24 #writing

[animegirlsakurablr]

Shenanigans in the Grand Order, part 586

Faerie Brexit, part 1

*NOTE: I did this (and the following Shenanigans) back in early June, and held it off from posting them until now

A flame to draw moths, huh...

Ayyyyyyy, Elron was mentioned here!

So, in a "if I'm going down I'm taking all of you with me" way.

Well, that's handy.

How come you're A-OK while the rest of us are out of it?

*sigh* I'm honestly getting tired of the story saying "you can't summon or bring your Servants from Chaldea to a Lostbelt", while the gameplay says otherwise.

So, how are we gonna get to the island? Shot from a cannon like what Tetra did to Link? (No, Nemo just rowed us to the island)

Alright, time to get g- Tristan?

Hey Da Vinci, didn't you say it would be impossible to summon Servants in this Lostbelt?

We are lost, man.

#Fate/Grand Order #Shenanigans in the Grand Order #Sion (FGO) #Leonardo da Vinci (Rider) #Nemo (FGO) #Tristan (FGO) #Mash Kyrielight

[astral-from-afar]

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun and was mostly inspired by the upcoming jjk poll. Will not tag this in jjk as I am not here currently to start fighting people.

Ok the latest poll got me thinking about what characters were on that list last time. So this is basically me side eyeing everyone for their choices last year

Megumi - I get it. Megumi’s pretty cool. Took me a while to get to that point but I’ve accepted this man’s popularity and I just go along with it. Really don’t have anything else to say about him.

Gojo - Can’t believe he was still in the box during this. You can tell how strong the Gojo fans are because he has not been seen in action for YEARS yet you’re still voting for him. Props to you I guess. Good luck beating Gege and getting him 1st in the next poll

Yuji - Ok my boy was not fighting in the TRENCHES to become 3rd in his own series. Yes he should have gotten 1st yes I will stand by that until the day I die and yes I still can’t believe he got outdone by a guy in a box.

Geto - I know you’re all coping bc of his death with him being in top 5 and honestly me too. Gege still won’t let this poor man rest so you won’t let the anyone else in the fandom rest as a consequence. Don’t expect him to be in top 5 again but who knows.

Nanami - Overtime sorcerer SUPREMACY. I best see him here again because he does not miss. Nanami fans are the real ones so I’m not dragging on him.

Inumaki - Salmon Salmon. For a man who also hasn’t been seen in 2 years he did pretty well all things considered. I’m still waiting for him to show up so until then you go Inumaki fans.

Choso - Ok I’m just salty here but you lot really put HIM here on the top 10. How much screen time did this man really have. He did not deserve to be placed that high and if I see him being placed higher than Yuki then we know it’s on sight. He’s great and all but really? Just really?

Yuta - As a resident Yuta has never done anything wrong, I am disappointed in all of you. Did vol 0 mean nothing? Was his interactions with Yuji nothing to all of you. To the point of Choso overtaking him. Smh

Toji - I’m going to assume it’s the horny and leave. You did not drag the no child support, fugly grey sweatpants, boring ass guy into the top 10. Just admit that he’s hot and take your leave. Ok being fair he was a good antagonist during the hidden Inventory arc but istg if I hear more Toji stuff we are not going to see me again.

Naoya - OK LISTEN UP HERE EVERYBODY. HOW MANY PANELS DID THIS FUCKER HAVE. WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE HELL DID HE DO IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE MANGA OTHER THAN BEING COOKED BY MAKI. IM WAITING. This just feels like fandom misogyny as the next two people are in the manga for 10x longer and did more things overall, to then be overshadowed by this dickhead.

Nobara - My beloved you did not deserve to be snuffed out of top 10. I am still on that copium that she’s still alive but honestly you really had to do her like that :(

Maki - Ok this is where I really question some of your tastes. So she had one of the PEAK arcs in all of the manga, went to hell and back and served us in every shape and form and this is what she gets. Losing to Naoya. Telling you lot to sort your misogyny out for the next poll because if she doesn’t reach top 3 Istg

Sukuna - Right, he’s a bit of a guilty pleasure as he is one of the funniest characters in this series after Kenny and Todo. Am suprised that he didn’t hit top 10 but he’s been binding his time to skyrocket to the big numbers especially in the recent chapters.

Todo - AYYYYYYY. Kyoto student found in the wild quick catch them before they get into the sea of irrelevancy. Ok that was too harsh but I’m proud of the Todo fans for getting him up there. He truly is the homie of the jjk world hopefully he keeps his placement because he’s too cool to not be on this list.

Utahime - OMG OMG OMG OMG. This was very unexpected. I thought Shoko would be here (she’s 24th) but I am grateful for it. The voice at the back of my head is trying to say that it’s cause of the shipping but I am ignoring it to focus on my girl entirely. Congrats everyone. If she manages to get in the top 15 again, do you think Gege will add more to her character. Nah he’ll probably just put her on the hit list which is not what we want to see here.

Yeah I think the poll overall was alright and obviously was for fun but after the placement of certain characters you know I’m side-eyeing you lot.

Characters I want/hope to reach the list : Yuki,Riko, Kirara, Hakari, Higuruma, Angel/Hana, Kenjaku, Uruame

#Queue #astra writes #this is more effort than I put in my normal posts #Hope you lot are eating good #In conclusion #the jjk fandom are a bunch of misogynists #And Maki stomps Naoya any day lol

[aceeofbasee]

fishie race story

this is a story based upon my fishie race.

🐟:wHaT diD i JuSt wiTnEsS??

🐡: i dunno george, what did you witness?

🐟:I DONT KNOW MRS PUFF THATS WHY I ASKED!

🐙:george 😞 did you take your meds today

🐟: YES JANET

🐙: then why are you yelling at mrs puff?

🐠: WHY ARE YOU CONCERNED ABT GEORGE’S MENTAL HEALTH JANET? LIKE WE ALL KNOW ITS BAD AND THAT HE DESPERATELY NEEDS TO SLEEP JANET AND AFTER WHAT JUST HAPPENED LIKE

🐡: YELLING IS NOT ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR LINDA!!!!!

🦈:AYYYYYYY IMM JERRYYYYYYYYYYYYY

🐟: JERRYY MY BOIIII

🐡: *puffs*

🐙: jerry!

🐠: jerry my love hello!!!

🐟: jerry…whats wrong?

🦈:JERRY JUST WATCHED BOB DIE THATS WHAT

🍣: im bob

🐟: 😳

🐠:😳

🐙:😳

🐡:😳

🐙: WELL GEORGE YOU STILL NEED TO TAKE YOUR MEDS BECAUSE-

all: SHUT UP JANET LIKE UGH 😑

#fishie race #fish race #polls #polls story #my fishes #JERRYYY #MY BOI #i think janet’s gonna die next ngl

[having-conniptions]

KinnPorsche ep 11 Rewatch Rambles:

Vegas Bible is so hot wtf

The tattoo scene omg

Interrupted by dad. Homophobic.

OKAY BUT WHY AREN'T WE TALKING ABOUT VEGAS SITTING DOWN IN FRONT OF PETE AFTER HIS LITTLE OUTBURST OF FRUSTRATION

THE WAY HE KEEPS HIS HEAD DOWN AS HE POINTS THE GUN AT PETE

"I totally forgot about him" DAMMIT KINN

The phone scene ahhhh Vegas smiling with his hand on Pete's neck ahhhh

Tankhun and Korn pestering Kinn until he confesses his love for Porsche with the most adorable goofy smile and a shy little stutter omg

And Tankhun's reaction awwww I love him

Awww the other bodyguards are worried about Porsche but also always here for the tea xD

APO'S ACTING IN THAT SCENE AAAAA

"Daddy doesn't like it" ARM PLEASE

Korn is a bad dad but at least he supports the gays

The safehouse is so pretty

Question: did Vegas bring all of his torture stuff to the safehouse or does the safehouse have a torture room with a bed just for Vegas

Pete's feral little grin and Vegas' unhinged laugh these lunatics were meant for each other

Porsche's bodyguards lmao

The "blacked out" document that is still very much legible hahaha

Porsche and Chay talking it out 🥺❤️😭

Ooh that salad actually looks good

Well at least Vegas caught Pete gently after frying him with that taser

Kinn hugging Porsche's stomach/waist and letting Porsche dry his hair AAAA THEY ARE SO IN LOVE

Ok but that shot of Porsche lying on his side in those light gray pj's? His waist?? Lord have mercy

I love Yok so fucking much and I love when she calls Porsche her baby and I love when Kinn calls her his mother-in-law aaaaaa

Gun slapping the book out of Vegas' hands and the close-up of the book titled "Childhood's End" this is cinema

I feel like t-shirt Vegas is a completely different person than slutty button-up Vegas (something something vulnerability, something something power, something something Vegas' roles as Pete's captor vs as Gun's son)

Why did he go in the room where Pete was to cry and break down?? He wanted Pete to see it. He told Pete to laugh at him, maybe because he really wanted Pete to add insult to injury or maybe because he wanted Pete to give him a reason to punish him... so he either wanted to punish himself or Pete... interesting

And then that seamless switch to genuine concern, the soft "hey"s, his frantic movements, the voice crack AAAAAAA

The Chay and Tankhun interaction WHY DIDN'T WE GET MORE OF THEM THEY'RE TOO PRECIOUS

Oh yeah this is where Chay finds out about Kim... fuuuckkkkkkkk

How many times have I watched the bandages / pill scene? Yes.

Pete's face after the "kiss"... "oh shit this better not awaken anything in me"

Their talk omg "so he stopped beating you?" "No." *mind blown*

Chay is so brave for confronting Kim like that

And Kim is such an idiot for pretending he never had any feelings for Chay

Barcode's acting in this scene still blows my mind. Holy shit.

And then it just cuts to the KinnPorsche happy couple helicopter ride lmao

Vegas in a t-shirt yet again after being hit by his dad, again going to Pete right away something something vulnerability

"You're still not eating?" He actually sounds like a concerned friend not like a cruel torturer dragging out a sick joke

He. Actually. Cares. So. Much.

The noodles. Pete's face when Vegas hands them to him. Vegas' fond little smile as Pete scarfs down the whole bowl. I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL ABOUT VEGASPETE

"Turbulence"

Detective Kim ayyyyyyy

Hahaha how I love seeing that smug smile on Kim's face fade into a surprised expression

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche ep 11 #kinnporsche rewatch

[ink-n-dragons]

Dragons WIP Chapter 1: Sighwel

ayyyyyyy look! the first chapter! prologue is here if you missed that and wanna read it!

taglist: @authorofemotion @accidental-spice @kanerallels @laughingphoenixleader @silverpaintedstars (hope i didnt forget anyone <3)

read under the cut! <3

The plan Amanthi worked out for Scythia and I didn’t work. Not because we got caught, or were too slow, or any of the things you’d expect, but because we had the wrong information for the price of the train and were turned away before we could even leave town. And then I had spent months sulking around the flightless shelter with old men who had never known what it was to be brave, and old women who sat around and told nonsense stories and spoke of hope they would never have, and too-nosy children without a memory of the parents who had abandoned them. I am all of them at once, I suppose: scared and hopeless and alone. The difference is that I’m going to do something about it.

Before Scythia left, she had convinced one of the shelter ladies to sew a leather sheath into the inside of each of my coats, and then she made me promise to keep my knife with me at all times. The lady who’d done the sewing didn’t remember a thing. Sometimes I thought it must be nice to live each day without any knowledge of the one you’d lived yesterday, but then I remember that I have things worth remembering. Now, kneeling on the floor beside one of the numerous flee-filled mattresses in the shelter, I carefully slide a set of small throwing knives into the sheath on the inside of my coat and strap the dagger Amanthi had given me to my thigh. Just the handle stuck up above my pants after I had pulled them on: I could easily unsheathe the knife if I needed too, but otherwise, nobody would know it was there. 

I stuff some food into the pockets of my coat, thankful again for the cold weather. The snow settling outside for the third time in three days, building gradually higher and higher, is an excuse to wear a thick winter coat with deep pockets. I can carry more food and conceal my knives better this way. 

Scythia had gone last autumn, leaving me to find my own way to the Absolved. East Wilten. Brenthew Street. I repeat the names in my head, determined to not forget them. Maybe Scythia can help me get through the testing since she already has. She will know what to do and not do, how to get into the Absolved, how to be important. All I have to do is get there.

Hastily, I slip out of the room where the other flightless are sleeping, my hand ready to unsheathe the dagger at my side. I make it down the hallway to the cellar and round the corner. Yesterday I had oiled the hinges to make sure the trapdoor wouldn’t creak; now the door opened smoothly. Dark as always, and freezing cold this time of year, the hard dirt ground and skittering rats of the cellar greet me as I climb down the ladder. Quietly, I reach up and ease the trapdoor shut and all the light is sucked away from around me. I reach the ground and stand there, shaking. My hands are still grasping the rungs of the ladder. People say that your eyes adjust to the dark, but not if the only thing around you is darkness. I can blink all I want, blink until I pass out, fall asleep and wake up again, live my whole life here, but I won’t be able to see any better than I do now. The darkness makes me dizzy. I can feel the ground beneath me, but who’s to say it’ll be there if I take a step in a different direction? I hate, hate, hate this. Faintly, I start to hear a set of familiar footsteps in the hallway above me. Someone—Hezia—is coming towards the cellar trapdoor and I’ll be found if I don’t hide. Why is she awake? Did she hear me? What did I do wrong?

I reach my hand out to the side shakily and feel along the wall, sliding my feet carefully along the ground. Something rough touches my fingers. I think it’s one of the barrels the wardens keep stockpiled away down here, probably filled with salt or wheat or something equally as important to the flightless living here. Below the first barrel, I can feel a second. There’s a little corner behind the stack of barrels and I crawl into it, the footsteps right above me now. I pull my knees up to my chest as the trapdoor above the ladder opens and light floods in from above. 

The ladder rungs creak under the intruder’s weight, growing slightly louder with each step down. I am frozen between the barrels, afraid to breathe. Hezia and I are close, but a little voice in my head tells me I can’t trust her to keep this secret. She is like a sister to me, at least more than Scythia ever was. Which isn’t saying much. Maybe it’s not even her, I reason with myself. But we have chased each other up and down the hallway above and I have crouched, hiding and snickering, in this same place before, listening to her searching footsteps parade overhead too many times to count. I know what Hezia sounds like when she is looking for me, and we are both aware that she knows exactly how to find me. 

The ladder rungs creak under her weight, even though she is slight and underfed like every other flightless here. I can’t hear her land on the ground, but the creaking of the ladder has stopped. I slide my knife out of its sheath, for the off chance that the intruder is not Hezia. 

Carefully, I pull myself to my feet and creep further into the forest of barrels, straining to hear where Hezia is at the same time. The trapdoor is still open, offering slivers of light here and there between the stacks of barrels. I try my best to stay hidden in the darkness. Not for the first time, I am grateful for the dirt floor muffling my footsteps. I am almost to the tunnel: it’s in the back corner, hidden by the newest barrels, the ones that wouldn’t be used or moved for at least a few years. If Hezia finds me before I make it out, I will have to try convincing her to leave with me. 

I hold my knife at my side pointing forward, the strange black blade absorbing any light that touches it. It’s perfect for this kind of thing: it will not betray my position by reflecting light or making any noise when unsheathing it. I don’t know what kind of material it’s made of, but it is utterly silent. I’ve tested it in too many situations: it does not reflect light, just absorbs it. It does not make sound, instead makes my own movements unnaturally silent when wielding it. It does not draw blood, simply drains its victim of life immediately after breaking the skin. I’ve often wondered if Scythia’s works the same as mine. 

I make it to the corner where the tunnel should be without Hezia—or whoever it is—finding me, but now I have another problem. I can’t move the barrels without making some kind of noise. I can convince her to come with me. But it’s Hezia. I am going to the Absolved, with their Goldenborn and Lleu-worship, with their abnegation of the dark-haired. Hezia, with her black hair and fiery eyes, would never fit. She would not come with me, and the realization is like a rock in my stomach. I don’t know what to do. If she finds me before I can leave, she might not try to stop me. But there’s always a chance that she would tell the wardens, and the wardens would tell the Justices, and the Justices would do Lleu knows what. I’ll just have to move quickly, I think. Push the barrels away and run the whole way to the train. Hezia’s always been faster than me, but maybe my desperation will give me an advantage this time. 

Suddenly, a harsh whisper comes from behind me, “Sighwel!” I turn without thinking, swinging my dark blade with the rest of my body. The point slices lightly—almost gently—across Hezia’s waist and she falls to the ground immediately. Her body thumps slightly on the cold dirt ground. It is suddenly completely silent; I can hear my heart mirroring the sound of her fall: thump thump thump. Hezia laying on the ground. Thump. My knife resting in my palm, neither bloodied nor stained. Thump. Hezia dead. Thump. I will be gone—I need to be gone—when they are sure to find her in the morning. Forcing myself away from Hezia, I push the barrels away from the wall, sobs rocking my body now and dizziness coming in waves. 

The tunnel gapes before me, more darkness before I can get to the Absolved. I almost turn to go into the tunnel, but then I stop. I will undoubtably be judged as a murderer if Hezia is found here and I am discovered to be gone. If I want to avoid unnecessary suspicion, I need to bring Hezia with me into the tunnel. I will carry her half way, then leave her. Not many people know about this tunnel. She should be safe. 

Safe? She’s not safe; she’s dead. But she’s not in danger either. I kneel next to Hezia and loop my arms under her armpits. Lifting her is harder than I thought it’d be. She is malnourished and skeletal from living at the flightless shelter, but so am I. I am in no shape to lift her, but if I don’t get her away from here and hidden, any possibility I have of a future with the Absolved is gone. Somehow, I manage to drag Hezia into the tunnel. I set her down and pull the barrels in the cellar back into place to cover the tunnel, enveloping us in darkness. Lifting Hezia is even harder now that I can’t see where she is, and I only manage to drag her a few feet down the tunnel before I collapse. This will have to be good enough. Nobody is going to look for her down here anyway: Scythia and I are the only people who know of the tunnel’s existence. 

I leave Hezia and stumble through the tunnel, growing more lightheaded the farther I go. The ground starts slanting slightly upwards and I keep pushing forward through the dark. The faint sound of a Corpse bird rings in my ears. I know I’m imagining it: birds do not live underground. But I killed Hezia, so maybe I deserve one. Corpse birds are an omen of misfortune, a symbol of justice for those who have been wronged and death for those who deserve it. I have seen them looming around the flightless shelter before: gathering in clouds over executions and prisons, resting on the shoulders of criminals and murderers, and ever-present in the wake of violence. 

Light is drifting towards me faintly now, a sign that I am almost out of the tunnel. Closer, closer, and then I am out in the snow and wind and sleet. The world is so white and cold that I almost overlook the Corpse bird flying overhead. It spirals gently down to my shoulder, its black claws gripping sharply onto my thick coat. I look at it sadly, examining the silver scales and black eyes. I whisper to it, even though I know it can’t respond. “Little Marwolaeth. It’s just me and you now.” 

#bookie's random posts #dragons wip #bookie's writing #writeblr

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Ask game! Love it! For kintsugi: 2 (what scene did you first put down?) and 11 (what do you like best about this fic?). Also curious about 8 (did any real people or events inspire any part of it?) for both kintsugi and therianthropy. Thank you xx

Ayyyyyyy let's play the fun game of "syn answers her ask box hella late"

Kintsugi:

2: What scene did you first put down?

So, everything I write is written in the order that it is published in. I tried that thing where you write the scenes you want first and it's never worked well for me. So the strict answer of this is always "whatever scene was first in the fic" (in this case, Frank clearing out the human trafficking house). The first scene I came up with actually wasn't anything to do with frank--it started as a fun thing with Aaron Davis. The idea of Aaron ending up the unwilling and unhappy sidekick of necessity of spider-man was great to me. He's so upset about this development in his life. it's so funny to me.

In the end, the place I wanted to take that story was better served ultimately by the present version of the fic, and we, unfortunately, are not gonna see any of it/aaron's ultimate journey for like MULTIPLE installments of the series. the development is way better so it's better in the long run, but it's a big delay. but this started as "aaron davis is so aggrieved by this development in his life" and just spiraled into a different focus.

8: did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

So, not exactly. There's was no big "ah ha" moment where I got an inspirational kernel that became this fic. probably the biggest influence was the fact that I used to work with kids.

ABOUT KIDS:

they are so fucking tiny

I honestly just really needed to someone to not be cool with peter doing spider-man and fighting in germany? like. Peter was fourteen. he was SMALL. he still plays with legos. no one should be bringing him to or allowing him to be at any fights. Like, i wanna be clear, peter's not going to stop being spider-man, but people should have tried way harder to stop him from being spider-man. I really needed someone to say "haha, what, no, absolutely not, we are not fucking doing that" and frank castle was really the number one most likely candidate.

He's worked in Queens before where Peter operates, and he really fucking cares about kids. He goes to bat to protect children. He is the one who would be the absolute hardest sell on "fourteen year old superhero," so he needed to be the one that this journey came through.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

It lets me have characters at odds without having characters be necessarily wrong.

Like, I love character studies. I'm very much a character-driven writer. I always base everything in maintaining the personality and core values of the characters as the heart of my story. With this series, i get to do fun asides with character studies--glaze defects and porcelain chips--and they get to exist at the heart of a narrative where the characters still have to participate in and react to external stressors.

So I get to constantly pit the different character types against each other--like matt and frank. Matt and Frank have the same end goal in mind (Peter's wellbeing) but they're very much in conflict because their different core values can't be reconciled. And it's not necessarily that either of them are objectively wrong--it's just that they value completely different things. I definitely have one of them I agree with more (it's actually Matt) but that doesn't mean that Frank isn't completely right about a lot of his points too. It's more pitting different schools of thought or values against each other than having one character be the good character and one be the bad character. I dunno, it's just a really fun balance for me and I like it a lot.

I've really liked getting to explore peter's character in particular. I feel like a lot of MCU Peter's didn't go into his comic background/history with poverty? It became "haha kid wants to be superhero not go to high school" when really spider-man was the product of severe fucking trauma and peter was Not Okay when he made it. I dunno, i feel like people get tempted to water down peter's character because he started as a kid, as if kid's can't be complex characters on their own? and that doesn't mean he can't be fun or crack jokes or be immature at times--he can be! but it does his character a bit of a disservice to make it just "local boy gets superpowers, wants to be superhero like avengers." Like, if that was the only reasoning, then peter shouldn't have been spider-man. He should have burnt out and gone back to being a kid. this is a major choice and he needs to have actual cause to make it or it won't function narratively.

Therianthropy:

I think this is just supposed to be 8? Imma only answer 8.

8: did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

tiny tim from the christmas carol.

i've already talked a little bit on tumblr about the one line matt makes about Tiny Tim in therianthropy, but a big inspiration for matt's character and his anger specifically was that. i remember watching the Christmas Carol, and there was this part where Bob Cratchett is sitting at the dinner table and talking to his wife about tiny tim sitting at mass, and he tells of how Tim would get very quiet, and he would tell his father that he didn't mind it when people stared, because it may remind them of the good lord jesus who made lame men walk and blind men see. And then Tiny Tim gets to totter onto screen a minute later and just have a weird glow going around him, and he gets to make a few eternally loving and profound comments. His biggest effect on the audience is his own death and how tragic it was that such a fragile and pure soul passed on, and the elation that he was saved in the end through no agency of his own and was no longer disabled.

And like, once again, i'm not shitting on charles dickens. tiny tim was a literary device. Every fucking character was a literary device. All of them were representative of other things. that's just how books were back then. But i was watching it and the entire structure struck me as something that happens way too much in real life.

because like. I grew up catholic, and there were disabled people who went to the same church as me. I didn't personally know them, i was like, nine and didn't talk to people, but they were visibly disabled and just going to mass. And people would gather around after and talk about the less fortunate, something something the eternal love and mercy of jesus christ, oh they're doing their purgatory on earth, what a good soul they must have for forbearing through such great suffering, oh can you imagine, how difficult must be their life. anyway, i found it hugely insulting.

Like. these people were just going to fucking church and people took one look at them and talked openly about how much they pitied them. that's hugely insulting, and it's weird and infantilizing. like, you don't even know that person. why are you immediately deciding that they're some pure angelic soul eternally shining with the love of god that they somehow have in spades directly because of their great suffering. why are you immediately looking at a total fucking stranger's life and being like "oh, how tragic their life must be, what a gentle soul" like maybe their life is better than yours, deborah. we don't know because you never fucking bothered to talk to them before pitying them.

It's like. this weird game in catholicism where people love suffering and love to talk about how there's always someone else who suffers more and oh imagine being that person who suffers more and how well they bear it and basically always talking about random other people in terms of their suffering.

Matt's a blind catholic orphan. God, that poor man would have never had a minute's rest. He would have been eternally pitied and would have heard every word of it. like. can you imagine? he probably grew up hearing about how pathetic he was and something something the good lord jesus christ amen.

And there's probably people out there that take it with the grace of tiny tim! matt wouldn't. he'd be full of rage, actually.

like. he legitmately is smarter and more competent than anyone else in any given room he's in. he's deeply fucking capable and dangerous, and then he gets to go around and some random sunday school mom who can't go through the chick-fil-a drive thru without having a meltdown is talking about how pathetic he is. that's humiliating. he's better than everyone and he's still somehow always dismissed first. people have already designated him as their random token of suffering to infantilize and talk about how miserable and terrible his life must be after sunday services.

And matt's life is miserable and terrible! it's not because he's disabled! no! he's a self-destructive shithead with a flair for the dramatic and no impulse control! he has the agency to ruin his own life, actually! let's not blame the blindness! and also let's not say this out loud about strangers you've never met, actually!

I dunno, i haven't seen a lot of fics about Matt's disability. He's always blind, of course, and there's a few good ones out there that talk about his blindness, but I just haven't found a lot about how ableism and societal discrimination is a huge foundation of his character and a big source of rage. i wanted that to be big in therianthropy's matt.

#ask game #late ask games #therianthropy (and other goddamn lies) #the first step of kintsugi #ableism

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Uhhh ohhh 😬😬😬

Hmm but Owen isn't saying it's somewhere out here necessarily, that is the most likely option though

But yeah safe inside those walls

LOL drill, Judd xDD

Idk how quickly they'll go though, but yeah you don't wanna cause a panic either

Lol true it's not Owen's job but there's more at stake here xD

Ahh okay so he knows it's am emergency vehicle

Tommy??? How did you know that lol??

AHHH (awh not aah) she saw it show up :))

Without a crew, of course, that makes sense :))

For how she knows I mean

Ope who's calling?

OHH yeah them

AHHHH (awh not aah) :OOO

WAIT HE DOESN'T WANNA DO IT???

And ayy that guy survived :D

I mean he's awful but still yk lol

Interesting :OOOO

WOAH dang o.o

That thing is kitted out xD

Ahhh it came with him :DD

OWEN you can't find him yourself xDD

I mean you CAN but yk lol

OOPE THERE HE IS

😬😬😬 this ain't good

Awww 😭😭😭😭 good I was going he'd have a picture or something but that's good <3333

Wait is he gonna do it anyway??

Ohhh yeah it's on a timer that's why

Okay good :DD <3333

OPE SDLFJDHDFKLS

Them all like: . . . Typical Owen

XDD

Owen's calling her ain't he XDD

YUPP slay Owen

Grace like ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ????

XDD okay okay

Ahh a graveyard

Uh ohhh 😬

Okay phew there's somewhere else- aight nvm xD

Okay c'mon Grace we got this, you got this

Oop okay an immediate right!

So we do have somewhere to go

Where we headed Grace 😬😬

OHH DANG THE RIVER :OOO??

WILD XDD

AHHH (awh not aah) it goes inert in the water :OO :DDD!!!

Grace you are so smart 🥰🥰 I love her

Okay so be careful Owen <33

Aww say a prayer 😭❤️🥰

SLFJDHLS YEAH good thing she's "still in good standing" XDD

I mena I guess it is dangerous to ride it in there but I mean she said it won't explode lol

Still better to jump out though I guess xDD

That is gonna hurt though xdd

OWENNN

Okay good he did lol xD

Probably did hurt lol xD

OOOPE OOHHH NOO

IT DIDN'T GO IN

OH MY GOSH OWEN'S GONNA JUMP BACK IN IT AND DRIVE IT IN FARTHER ISN'T HE

OWENNNN

I mean he'd at least try to get back out but yk

Ohhh noo 😬😬😬

:OOOOO AAAAAHHHHHHHHH THE 126!!!!

AYYYYYYY Y E S SLAYYYYY :DDDDD!!

WHOOOO PUSH IT IN 🥰🥰🥰🥰 :DDDD!!!

Y E S S S S S

OOP and it still exploded a bit too xD

They did it y'all 🥰🥰🥰

Ahh and it's calling back to the laughing at the beginning xD

The shock probably lol

Well I mean this is a bit much xD

OHH LOL LAUGHING GAS XDD

It made laughing gas XD

SLFKGJDHDKGS THESE IDIOTS XDD

I mean they're not but yk xDD

"WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT :DD??" XDD I love y'all lol

YAYYY :DDDD <33

#9-1-1 lone star #911 lone star #oasis's 9-1-1 chatter

[moononastring]

I did not get engaged and forget about you all 😂 I’m telling you that being engaged has definitely helped the process as we have been fucking like bunnies and I’m not really sure why but it’s just 10xs better now! Probably a mind over matter thing.🤷🏼‍♀️ I also would suggest having sex everyday because after a while it’s actually good quality sexy times🥳🫣🥹😏 WE ARE STILL WORKING ON NICK BEING THE MOST GENTAL GIANT THERE EVER WAS but he’s getting there 😌 He’s also gotten quite the filthy mouth lately to the point I think he’s looking up what to say beforehand and I’m not sure if I should be impressed or not but It does work 😏

Now onto wedding planning. I did attempt to start the wedding planning process and have no idea what I’m actually doing, I might let Nick’s mom plan the whole thing she’s got plenty of ideas 🙃🙃🙃 At least she’s trying to be helpful. I think eloping would be for the best because who knew weddings even small ones ended up being ridiculously expensive. Also there are so many decisions to be made but I can’t even figure out when I want to get married. Part of me is just like I want it done with and part of me is like don’t rush it because you only get married once (hopefully) yah know? UGH

I won’t wait so long to update you guys next time okay? Okay. 😚

AYYYYYYY THAT'S WHAT WE LIKE TO HEARRRRRR 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 not to be that person but I'm weirdly invested in your life now babes. You can't leave us hanging HAHA.

Go Nicky 👏🏼😏 I'm proud of him for throwing in some dirty talk and y'all going at it. BABY STEPS FOR OUR GENTLE GIANT. Slow and steady, he's getting there!!!! Is it weird, that I, a random internet person, feel so very proud of your sex life getting better???? We are now linked in a very weird way but I am thrilled about it HAHAHA.

And honesly, I don't blame y'all if you elope! Weddings are so freaken expensive and the wedding party is absolutely getting taken advantage of!!! Don't stress yourself out with it and don't rush it. It's YOUR wedding, celebrating YOUR love so keep it as simple as you need it for your stress levels. Personally speaking, I always think the more simple things are, the more elegant it is and you get to enjoy yourself instead of being overwhelmed. Do ONLY what feels right for you and Nicky boy. Everyone else is a guest (including both sets of parents lol they sometimes forget it ain't about them!!). Start with picking your favorite season you'd like to get married in and go from there! KEEP ME POSTED! I love wedding stuff lololol.

#operation get dicked down 'nonnie #he's not just your gentle giant anymore he's OUR gentle giant #I speak for the people lmao #I've been part of too many wedding parties tbh #I"M SO HAPPY FOR YOU DEAREST #I want a virtual invite whenever it happens lmaooo #'who is that?' #'oh an internet friend that encouraged me to uhhhh connect with Nick more.' #bless #gigi's tea time #asks #'nonnie

[fandoms-or-life]

Ayyyyyyy we did it🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

#aromantic #aromantic pride

[racingliners]

F1 2022 Re-Watch: Round 4 - Emilia Romagna 

Alrightly besties I’m back shouting about races that happened months ago!! (We can thank the ROC brain rot for reminding me to carry on with this). If you have no idea what’s going on you can re-read my previous post here)

All I really remember from this one is that Seb got his first points finish of the year (P8, woo!). So, on we go!

Fingers crossed I’m on the international feed this time

Unrelated I also have popcorn

Anyway F1 intro

(do do dododo do do dooooooo)

I am on the international feed 🥳 (hi Crofty!)

(ugh remember when Ferrari were leading both championships 😭)

wet/damp start???? I do not remember this whatsoever 

Seb in... P13. I’ll take it. (we get Sewis on the grid though!!)

ugh this was a sprint race weekend. ew.

iirc we’re gonna get some broken tifosi hearts today 😑

[Start/Lap 1]: Yup, Ferraris somewhat trounced at the start

oop Dan on Sainz turn 1 violence.

SEB INTO P9 THAT’S MY BOY!!!!!

aaaaand Safety Car

daaaamn Lando’s start was zoomy

[Lap 2]: Kevin??? in P5???? Viking power & midfield stay winning

Aston Martin safety car my beloved!!!

Teeeeeeed!!!! (I will always endure the rest of the Sky team for Ted)

[Lap 5]: SEB GOT PAST NANDO, THAT’S MY BOY

(insert quote from Abu Dhabi about how Fernando and Seb have always raced each other)

Seb in P8 🥰🥰🥰

Fernando racing Seb and Lewis on the same day, did we briefly go back to 2012?

[Lap 6]: Oh shit that’s a big hole in Alonso’s sidepod 😬

The Alpine said ‘fuck this shit I’m out’

[Lap 8]: The parallel of the Tifosi groans on lap 1 to the cheers when Charles got past Lando

Also, Imola actually seems like a good track. Not bad addition to the calendar (unlike all the new street circuits 😭)

[Lap 9]: Oof that Merc porpoising is bad

That’s a very ominous looking rain radar ngl

[Lap 11]: Kevin channelling his inner Gandalf with Russell

[Lap 12]: Val getting the popcorn out watching Kevin v George

The midfield once again providing the bulk of the entertainment. We thank you for your service.

[Lap 13]: Class zero to one rain???? What does that mean??? McLaren explain????

Seb sighting!!

Back to weather jargon, what the fuck is class zero rain?? a drop??? the weird misty rain that just makes everything damp. I need to know.

[Lap 15]: The inters are not having fun it seems. Make better tyres Pirelli.

Livery watch: Aston Martin preeeeeeetty 💚

[Lap 16]: Thank you Crofty for remembering that Imola is home race no 1 for Alpha Tauri too

(Yes, I am a midfield stan in case this wasn’t clear)

f1blr 🤝 Sky F1: roasting the FIA for their decisions

[Lap 18]: Seb in the pits for slicks 👀

pls don’t rain pls don’t rain pls don’t rain

[Lap 19]: And you pit for slicks, and you pit for slicks, everyone pits for slicks!!

Lewis on Esteban pitlane violence?????

Ferrari could have brought in Charles at the same time as Perez, but they didn’t. I’m having bad flashbacks. 

[Lap 20]: ayyyyyyy Seb P7!!!!

Alex got past Lewis???? I did not have Williams overtaking a Merc on my 2022 bingo

ew no don’t go to Horner I don’t want to hear his opinion on anything

[Lap 22]: We still don’t have DRS??? wild

the racing has been decent though

[Lap 25]: Lewis P14. Ouch 😔

[Lap 29]: Missing - Ferrari’s straight line speed. If found please return to Maranello

[Lap 32]: Also Missing - DRS. Please return to the FIA ASAP.

ugh, the race was fun when it was damp. It’s now a bit dull. Past half distance at least.

DRS RETURNETH!! 🥳🥳🥳

aww Mama Gasly. 

[Lap 38]: Toto sighting!!

Ted bringing up Seb unprompted. Big mood.

[Lap 41]: Verstappen lapping Lewis. pain.

[Lap 44]: Shit’s bad when Charles is asking about Plan D.

[Lap 48]: Yuki getting into P8!! good for him!!

no wait don’t get past Seb

ah shit is this how Seb drops from 7th to 8th?

Seb praise on comms though we love to hear it

[Lap 50]: Charles in the pits. Is this Plan D or E? 

ohhh the old ‘pit for the sofest tyres to get the fastest lap’ trick. nevermind.

asdfghjkl Red Bull pitting Perez to do the exact same thing. F1 is a Serious Sport™️.

Oh they’re pitting Verstappen too. alright then.

[Lap 52]: Oh damn Charles has caught up to Perez maybe Ferrari weren’t clowning.

[Lap 53]: Yuki has indeed caught up to Seb. by P7 you were wonderful while it lasted.

[Lap 54]: SHIT CHARLES SPUN WHAT

ohhhhhhhh no

Well, my memory didn’t fail me. We did get some tifosi heartbreak.

big oof at that replay.

[Lap 56]: Meanwhile Lewis still can’t get past Pierre.

[Lap 57]: Potential Bottas on Russell violence? 👀

5 Laps left. Perhaps my popcorn was a good idea.

[Lap 59]: And Charles gets past Seb. nvm.

Light rain at the last two laps????? Mum can you pick me up I’m scared. 

Livery watch: I’m begging McLaren to have less black and more papaya on the livery this year.

[Lap 62]: I’m not seeing any rain. Are we safe??? I feel like I’m being lulled into a false sense of security.

oop, Charles into P6

[Lap 63/Finish]: I had legit forgotten about Verstappen after he lapped Lewis ngl.

Lando P3!! Good for him!

Damn Russell just kept P4

SEB P8 FIRST POINTS OF THE YEAR HELL YEAH!!!!!

Double AM points finish too we love to see it.

Well, that was def a better race than Aus, despite the really dull middle section when there was no DRS. Still made I completely forgot that it was a damp/dry race, the opening laps were probably my highlight. The Russell/Bottas battle was v fun to watch even though they kept their positions. Overall, 7 and a half front wings out of 10. Up next... Miami 😶

#F1 Liveblog #F1 Re watch #F1 2022 re watch #Emilia Romagna edition #I rated Aus as a joke but I think I have to keep it up now #anyway; Emilia Romagna was pretty good actually!!