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#ahhh this song
salamispots · 9 months
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I love how you can chill in the little basket by the shell out machine :'D
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velvetmatte · 2 years
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kabukiaku · 10 months
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Oh, take me internally. Forever yours, Nocturnal me.
(i have many feelings for them ok.)
bonus doodle:
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acb0116 · 9 months
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The boys singing Woyaya last night 😭 you can hear Danny so clearly and I’m sobbing 😭
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notherpuppet · 3 months
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I’m so overwhelmed with what we saw,,,, I’m trying to grasp onto one train of thought
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pepperpixel · 9 months
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“Those thoughts of past lovers, they'll always haunt me
I wish I could believe you'd never wrong me
Then will you remember me in the same way,
as I remember you?”
BABY WE BUILT THIS HOUSE, ON MEMORIES!!!! ITS MORE BETTY AND MAGIC MAN ART TIME!!!! AKA PepperPixel is completely obsessed w the dynamic of two people dealing w very similar trauma finding understanding and solidarity in one another!!!!! GHGHG JUST. I LOVE IT. I LOVE THEM. SO MUCH.
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venompinks · 4 months
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ITZY ✦ MR. VAMPIRE concept photos
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vampykween · 5 months
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i used to be so obsessed with this song i forgot how much i love it, but this makes me want to write valeria so badly.
valeria garza x f!reader 18+ mdni
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i just imagine you’re stuck in a dead end relationship - you’d leave him if you hadn’t been with him for so many years. he’s sweet but he’s boring and your sex life is pitiful. you just want to be with someone who excites you.
you’re out one weekend with your friends, downing shots in a too crowded club to forget all your woes when you feel like you’re being watched. and that’s when you see her.
she’s staring at you like you look good enough to eat - which is what you were subconsciously going for when you hurried out the door past your boyfriend in a skimpy little dress. not that he'd even notice, whatever game was on tv captured his attention far better than you ever could.
the woman catches your eye and tilts her at you to come over to her, you feel bad abandoning your friends, but something about her makes you want to do anything she asks. you slink over as best as you can with the alcohol in your system and she grabs your hand and pulls you into the velvet booth with her.
"what's your name beautiful?" she purrs at you and you're not sure if the flush on your face is because of the shots or the way her voice goes straight between your legs. your nerves have you stumbling over your name and she chuckles at that.
"do i make you nervous, hmm?"
"no, i-" you shake your head and stop short because she is making you nervous; you shouldn't be preening under her attention when your boyfriend's waiting back home, but also she's making a flurry of emotion thrum inside of you. the hand not gripping the glass of her drink trails up the inside of your dress, and she looks at you expectantly waiting for you to tell her to stop. slowly, her hand travels farther until it reaches the lacy thong you threw on - for what you're not sure, but maybe you secretly were hoping something like this would happen. she hums appreciatively at her discovery and rubs your clit languidly over your panties; you cant remember the last time you were so riled up and wet at such delicate touches, but you were on the verge of whining loudly and begging her to fuck you.
would you really do that? let this mysteriously alluring woman in a club, who makes you feel alive like you never have before, have her way with you right here? her ministrations don't let up, and the way you lean into her and moan softly answers your question.
"pobrecita," she coos in your ear. "such a desperate little thing. tell me what you want amor, anything, and i'll give it to you."
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mintjeru · 6 months
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chibifies your joongdoks 💕
open for better quality | no reposts
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shellsweet · 20 days
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Can we become we?
Two hearts connected by one beat
Your hand in mine and
I could never choose to love another
Maybe one day I can learn to love you
too 💜
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Sansa Stark, Game of Thrones || Taylor Swift, “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”, The Tortured Poets Department.
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lxvergirl-exe · 25 days
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I'll fucking digest you. One kiss at a time. You wish I was yours. And I hope that you're mine.
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jinlias · 1 year
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tally - rosé
— songwriter!, musician! rosé, paparazzi
i say fuck it when i feel it, cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like
rosé was exhausted, she hates this cycle. of sneaking around and hiding under dark clothes when you’re in public, of hiding her lockscreen and the polaroid on her phone case from appearing on photos or videos, she hated being unable to talk about you to everyone, she hated all of this, loathed it.
but she always kept you around, even if you had to ride with crew most of the time, for when she was away from you too long she would start to hear her own heartbeat more than she’d like. you were peace to her. rosé was exhausted, but mostly, she was furious.
and i ain’t gon conceal it, while you talking all that shit, i’ll be getting mine
it was a thing of time, that everyone started noticing the same feminine silhouette around her even when none of her crew was. fans kept up with her management team, everyone even knew her re-ocurring friend group, they just couldn’t pinpoint where u fell, yet, you were always there.
don’t apologize for my behavior, if you’re offended i don’t care.
she never fit in the usual korean mold, the delicate, educated and always quiet women she shared the industry with because they valued their dream career more than their own freedom. controversy is what made her stand out, it’s how she blew up, it’s expected no one was too surprised when she started a soft launch of your relationship. pictures of the two bowls of food, tangled hands, two shadows on a crosswalk, small, private, intimate photos like these easily gave away it was not just one of her friends.
sometimes i like to go play dirty, just like all of the fuckboys do, that’s my choice and there’s no one i’m hurting, when that’s not girly.
but rosé has always been open about her private life, she’s never hid behind dark clothes or hats, at least not until you. she was a weekly topic on social media, everyone took out the time to discuss her possible hook ups, like that was of important matter to anyone else.
that’s why everyone else was so observant now, because all of the sudden she stopped running out of models’ apartments at three am with tousled hair. instead, she was seen hiding behind her clothes and around a becoming familiar silhouette at restaurants, movie theaters, parks, at houses and parties of families who no one’s ever seen before, which was the ideal, but people would just not stop watching her. and you.
everybody tells me to play nice, everybody judge but looking twice, but my body don’t belong to none of them though, and i’m not going to change cuz you say so.
she was tired of playing nice, of laughing it off when men asked her about her love life, when the woman interviewer asked about any special boys in her life. she was tired of everyone assuming and deciding which one of her friends she was dating today. why couldn’t they see she loved you? why couldn’t they just move on? she wasn’t theirs to play around with, she just wanted to do what she loved, surrounded by people she loved. surrounded by you.
warned me to make the rules, or play the fool, it ain't that hard to choose
“rosie, this could make or break your career” you really wish it wasn’t this hard, you wish you could just love each other and live contently. without anyone else interfering.
“i don’t give a fuck anymore. i need you to do the same” she’s cried, she’s given up. but she’s angry, she wants this over. she wants you two to be free. “will you walk the red carpet with me? please” she asks again, begs, her eyes are telling you all of the above. how she can’t take this anymore, if she has to pretend she doesn’t know you for one more night, she might just explode.
rosé can’t ever explain to you the amount of bliss she felt when you agreed, she had been given an ultimatum since the beginning, play the fool or break the rules. play the fool because it could save her career, break the rules because it could save her. she’s finally brave enough to choose for you. and she chooses to be immensely happy, publicly
i say fuck it when i feel it. cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like.
that night, hell broke loose. so did the internet, the photo of her kissing you at the red carpet had millions of fans publicly giving up on her, but so many more expressing their gratitude and pride for her. regardless she couldn’t care less about the numbers, the money, all she cared about was you, her, your future together, and how it was finally possible.
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still-snowing · 2 years
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and I’ve turned down every hand that has beckoned me to come
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valeriianz · 1 year
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You are an obsession, you're my obsession Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?
“Hello, Hob,” a low, sultry, and achingly familiar voice speaks behind him, cutting through the heavy bass reverberating off the walls and straight through Hob’s chest, lighting him up.
Turning, Hob finds– who he’d been referring to as– his stranger behind him, close enough to reach out and touch. They’re in the middle of the dance floor, bodies packed and grinding all night, but somehow they’ve given them room now.
Hob was dreaming, he was aware of it almost immediately. He’s been thrown back into the 1980s, one of Hob’s favorite periods of the 20th century, and in a nightclub no less. The music loud enough to penetrate skin, feeling the twangy synth pop in his bones. Everyone around him dressed in every color of the rainbow, over accessorized in neon hoop earrings and bangles, leg warmers, windbreakers, and mesh patterns. 
Hob’s dreams often took him back in time, and he wondered what prompted this. Though as Hob often did in his dreams, instead of considering why, he simply indulged. The music wasn’t anything particular, perhaps nothing was actually playing and it was all in his head, but Hob had felt the push and pull of everyone around him and followed along like a buoy at sea.
And now, feeling drunk off the sticky sweet air in the room, Hob grins as he boldly steps into his stranger’s space and slips both arms around his middle, pulling so his skinny, pale, gorgeous friend is flush against him.
He’d been dancing with strangers all night, shadows with indeterminate faces, allowing them to trace patterns on his skin, grip his shoulders or tug on his shirt. Hob hadn’t been dancing or even hanging around loud bars or clubs in decades, maybe somewhere deep in his subconscious, he missed it. Missed the anonymity of it all, getting high off everyone else’s pleasure and succumbing to it. So it made sense, as Hob felt himself getting hot, his skin prickling, that his imagination would wander, drifting to his perfect stranger. The only constant in his life, and someone who frequented Hob’s dreams often, especially as their centennial meetings came around or passed.
Though this iteration of his friend appeared distinctly… solid. He was dressed in that long black coat and skinny jeans from their last meeting (where he’d apologized, apologized! And called Hob a friend), his black hair gently tousled as before.
Hob paid it no mind as his tongue finally became useful and spoke for him.
“Hello, stranger.” he tried his best to mimic his friend’s deep voice and giggled at himself, cataloging the twitch of amusement in his usual stony face.
“You were thinking about me.” He spoke again, choosing to not point out how Hob currently had his arms ensnared around him and swaying them back and forth. “In a place like this.”
His stranger cast his gaze about the room and Hob noticed, in the pulsing lights, his eyes were black, all the way to the sclera, not the crystal blue that Hob had become so acquainted with. It was startling, and as the strobe lights began to flicker, Hob watched his friend’s eyes shimmer as well, like stars dancing in the night sky.
“I’m always thinking about you,” Hob spoke, transfixed. He hadn’t meant to say that, but fuck it, this was a dream and he’d said and done much worse with his oldest friend, to this stranger, in the comfort of his own head. “Even if I don’t know your bloody name yet.”
Those piercing eyes focused back on Hob and he felt himself physically wobble, holding onto his friend now for support.
“Oh, I am aware.” Hob caught his breath at the genuine smile his friend gave him, much like the one in the New Inn just days ago. “But you do know my name, you must, in order to summon me like this.”
Hob huffed, impatient. His friend’s hands were still resolutely at his side, unmoving even as Hob squeezed and swayed with a little more force.
“Sure, Dream Stranger,” Hob’s arms eased up just enough to slot his hands against bony hips and pull, making him stagger forward. Hob smirked, elated at the absolute shock reflected in the man’s expression.
“Now get with the program,” Hob leaned in, touching his nose to his stranger’s, the slight gasp it caused going straight to Hob’s cock. “And put your hands on me.”
He didn’t pull away, which was good. This dream had been derailed long enough. And finally, finally Hob’s dream lifted his arms and surrounded Hob’s face in his hands.
Big hands, Hob realized as his entire body went still. Big fucking hands, with long fingers, cool to the touch, and slipping back into his hair. Hob felt like he’d been electrocuted, his face forced forward, pupils shaking as he met his stranger dead on, getting lost in the inky black atmosphere of his impalpable eyes.
“Ah,” Hob eloquently said, swallowing hard. “This is different.”
“Is it?” His stranger gave a smirk of his own, lips turning up sharp at the corners, like they could cut. “How do these dreams normally proceed?”
Slowly, like pieces fitting into a puzzle, understanding trickles in Hob’s brain and his eyes go wide, his heart stopping before kicking back up in double time.
“Oh, you’re– really here, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. Hob would feel more embarrassed about this if his ancient friend wasn’t holding him at eye level, scrutinizing in an obnoxiously amusing way.
“Yes.”
Hob wets his lips and doesn’t miss how the galaxy flicks down to watch the motion. “And your name is…”
“Dream.” His fingers tangle further into Hob’s hair, gripping it and causing Hob’s jaw to drop with a not-so-quiet groan.
He leans in close, cold lips brushing Hob’s jaw and making every hair stand on end. 
“I would appreciate it if you used it now, Hob Gadling.”
Hob’s eyes flutter shut, his fingers pressing on narrow hips hard enough to bruise. “Dream?”
“Mm…” Dream purrs, like a cat content, as he nuzzles his way up Hob’s neck to speak hotly in his ear. “Again.”
Hob gasps like the air has been ripped from him as Dream bites the top of his ear, sending a bolt of electricity down his spine and causing his hips to twitch involuntarily.
“Dream.” Hob tilts his head, exposing his neck as Dream’s lips drag along the stubble there, licking and nibbling as he goes. “Oh my god–”
“Again.” The demand is punctuated with one hand moving from Hob’s hair to his backside, groping roughly and setting Hob on fire as he feels the confined outline of Dream’s arousal press against his own straining erection.
“Fuck–” Hob releases Dream’s hips and holds onto his face instead, pulling it from his abused neck and forcing their mouths together.
The kiss is the most grounding Hob has ever felt, but also fleeting, delicate like a cloud. Hob holds on like Dream could vanish, melt into the floorboards or dissolve into a pile of sand– sand! God, Hob was an idiot.
Dream’s tongue invades Hob’s mouth like a cavalry, drowning Hob. Bites his bottom lip like a brand, a claim, drawing blood and making Hob shake with want. The dance floor suddenly becomes vacant, people vanishing, music filtering out like a volume knob had been turned down. Hob’s hands settle on Dream’s shoulders and push, walking them backwards until Dream’s back connects with a wall and Hob thrusts his entire body onto him. The impact forces a cough of surprise from Dream and Hob likes it, elated to elicit any kind of reaction from his friend.
“You make me crazy,” Hob bites out, pressing his own fingers against Dream’s throat and up into his silky soft hair, grabbing it and watching his friend to see how his eyes glint something hot and dangerous. “You know that?”
“Would you demonstrate it for me?” Dream’s lips curl, enticing and provoking, daring Hob to say yes. To take Dream apart and show him every fantasy he’s ever conjured up. To act on every impure thought Hob’s ever had, every fleeting glance or touch turned purposeful and laden with desire.
Hob would take Dream apart, if that’s what he wished. And here, in his dream, anything was possible, and Hob intended to keep him here as long as he could, letting Dream into his darkest whims and satisfactions. Perhaps he already knew, could feel it in Hob, the way Dream made him ache, the way he made him hunger. 
Slipping his fingers through Dream’s belt loops, Hob pulled as he rolled his hips, connecting their fronts and knocking his head back with the bolt of pleasure. Dream’s hands fisted into his shirt and held on as they met again and again.
“Hob–” Dream crooned, his mouth at his collarbone.
“Yes,” Hob finally answered, his head coming down to watch Dream, seduced by the exploding cosmos in his eyes. “I would show you everything.”
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sincerely-sofie · 4 months
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Villain I Appear to Be: A PMD2 Sketch Animatic starring Grovyle and His Shenanigans
(Skip to 0:53 if you don’t want to sit through the slow start | Same video but on YouTube | Audio source)
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