#all too well lyrics headers

[comeontaylorspeaknow]

𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭

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#taylor swift #taylorswift #taylor #swift #taylornation #tswiftedit #taylor aesthetic #taylor swift icons #header taylor swift #taylor swift header #taylor header #all to well #all too well lyrics #all too well 10 minute version taylor's version #all too well 10 mins #all too well 10 minutes version #all too well 10 min version #all too well 10 minutes #all too well 10mv #1989 #1989 era #taylor swift red #red tv #red taylor's version #red (taylor's version) #1989 icons #1989 era icons #icons tay #icons taylor swift #taylor icons

[mossgh0st]

As If It’s Heaven’s Gate (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary | Levi is caught in a dark place following the battle of heaven and earth. Believing he’s undeserving of life’s sweetness, he deprives himself until you show up on his doorstep. Inspired by and based on Too Sweet by Hozier.

Content | Angst, Fluff. Sort of slow burn? No use of y/n. Levi is a grump, reader is shorter than him. Brief mentions of off-screen sex. Italics are song lyrics that each section is inspired by.

Pairings | Levi/Reader. Mentions of Jean/Pieck.

Notes | As soon as I heard Too Sweet, I knew I needed to write about Levi. Header is from ‘kii on Pinterest. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It can’t be said I’m an early bird, it’s 10 o’clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

After the war, Levi becomes a creature of the night. His meticulous bedtime routine and eves of deep, restful slumber have become wrought with nightmares, teeming with the faces of everyone he’s ever loved having succumbed to their bitter ends. He’s forgone the tea, a relic of a previous era; he now prefers an amber liquid that stings on the way down. A balm that numbs, heavy bottomed glass filled only a quarter of the way. When he ventures beyond the confines of his home, he asks for the tippy top of the top shelf - Levi always takes his whiskey neat.

You know you don’t gotta pretend. Baby, now and then, don’t you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Some days, he’s lucky if he retires before the sunrise peeks over the hills and pulls itself up to the high point of the sky. Letters go unanswered, bookshelves less sparse as he fills the majority of his time with thick, leather-bound tomes. The newspaper has becomes the perfect kindling, headlines boasting peace negotiations melt and turn runny with the heat of the blaze. When Levi wakes each hazy afternoon, it’s with the lingering scent of bonfire strung about the atmosphere. His once grey eyes have turned deep, a color so sharpened it resembles the water on a lake just before the claps of thunder rumble and bring down swells of rain.

But while in this world, I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three.

He knows he won’t live forever. He’s not at all interested. At this point, he’s pleading for the same sweet release from the world he afforded Erwin. Levi has spent so much time dwelling in the night, the darkness is threatening to become him. Then, you show up, one damp afternoon. Modest sundress, two small bags, a green ribbon tying back your hair. The glow you emanate is too much for him. He wants to be angry, filled with a rage so intense it convinces you to leave running in the midst of the spring storm, ribbon flying behind you. The pit in his stomach solidifies when he can’t bring himself to be irate, softened by the cold flush of your cheeks and the sheepishness of your smile as you stand, delicate in his doorway.

You’re too sweet for me, you’re too sweet for me.

At first, your presence does nothing to alter his routine. You rise with the sun, the first blinks of morning are spent brewing a sweet coffee in his kitchen, silent save the chattering of the birds. The dregs of his previous evening’s fire catching in the wind and mingling with the scent of bitter coffee grounds. Levi rises long after the sun has hit it’s peak, emerging in loose slacks and a half undone shirt, the sleeves rolled. You cross paths only briefly, while he pours his glass of amber whiskey and you prepare your cup of evening tea. A silent understanding has occurred - you can stay, if you don’t intervene. So you read in the overgrown garden, take your coffee with milk and two sugars, visit the bookstore, the seamstress down the block from the town’s main square, and worry about him only when you are tipping over the ledge into sleep.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The first change is subtle: tea leaves are disappearing faster than you’re brewing them; you know he’s dipping into the store after you retire each evening. Then, when the usual night terrors creep up again, plaguing your mind and leaving your lungs in a vice grip, the second change occurs. Levi waking and comforting you after a string of particularly violent dreams, a different sort of understanding passes when he murmurs, “I still see them, too.” You find him in your bed then, most mornings. Your routines still separate, bodies occupying different halves of the day for weeks. Coffee, bookstore, seamstress, reading, garden. It continues on, life in your solitary bubbles, except the brief overlapping in the early morning when your breaths mingle in the same space between your sleeping forms.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong.

The paradigm shifts once more when he begins to rouse the same time as you. A brief wave of shame washes over you as you realize he’s already awake, you cannot observe his closed eyes and smoothed forehead, the lines of his face set in peace, the soft parting of his lips, or the slow rise of his chest beneath the thin blankets. That morning, you show him how to make the coffee, and he grumbles after burning the first pot, squinting in the bright light. He notices you smiling out of the corner of his eye and something rattles around in his chest. You add three sugars to your cup. He accompanies you to both the bookstore and the seamstress, his silent presence a new comfort. Levi wants to ask why you chose him, chose his home, when there are happier and more accommodating friends, current or former members of the 104th. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be better off with someone like Mikasa, in her quiet cottage by the sea. Even Jean and Pieck, or hell, Reiner and his family.

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain.

Within a few months, Levi’s world has changed. It’s brighter, fuzzy around the edges. There’s a few sundresses in the closet of his room, a growing stack of books on his dresser. A knit shawl is draped over the chair in the living room; and the guest bed hasn’t been used in several weeks. He lets her brew the coffee in the morning, his palate now well suited for the taste, and takes chrysanthemum tea in the evenings. The garden has a bench now, front row to the beds of geranium, lavender, and snapdragon. When you smile at him through the kitchen window, an understanding dawns on him, an awakening blooms inside of him. He’s seen this look before, many times; over a shared water jug during an expedition, sleepy and exhausted over a fire surrounded by their comrades, during meetings with military leadership, after the battle of heaven and earth, and on the day you were assigned to his squad. You would never go to Mikasa’s, or to Jean and Pieck, even Reiner, or anyone else. He would never let you.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

The first touch of morning is chill, a breeze dancing its way through the open window, sheet gathered at his waist as Levi rouses from sleep. He hears your hums from the kitchen and swings his feet over the bed. He’s drawn to you like bees are to flowers, cloying aroma and sunlight and all things good. Forgoing the tie of his robe, he begins purposeful strides down the hall. Then, you’re there, back turned and hair down. The hem of your pale nightgown sways as you wait for the pour of coffee, glowing in the sunrise, hands over your upper arms to stave off the late summer air. You’re lost in a daydream. Levi comes to stand behind you, listening to the melody you hum quietly. The deprecating, nagging voice he contends with daily in his mind is quieted - it’s just you now; always you.

If you could sit in a barrel, maybe I’d wait.

It’s quiet when he slides an arm around your waist, body warm and flushed. It’s quiet when you turn in his hold, meeting his grey gaze with lingering surprise and pink cheeks. It’s quiet as he pulls you in closer still, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Quiet, as Levi brushes his forehead against yours, eyes closed, fingers flexing in their hold of you. Completely silent, as he tilts your chin up, up, up, and brushes his lips with yours. The taste of you nothing like he had ever dreamed, and oh, had he dreamed. When you push up onto your toes to deepen the pressure, sigh into his mouth, his black bitter heart nearly bursts through his chest.

Until that day…

And when he takes you shortly after, coffee long forgotten, limbs so tangled it’s near impossible to discern where you end and Levi begins, lips parted and dewy with sweat and each other; he can only think of the sweetness this life has afforded him in you, how the bitterness of his past has made way for this belonging.. well. There’s truly no such thing as too sweet, is there?

#levi aot #captain levi #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi blurb #levi oneshot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi Ackerman oneshot #aot oneshots #attack on titan oneshot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #user!moss writes

[codywanfirstkissbingo]

Codywan First Kiss Bingo

Can't get enough of Cody and Obi-Wan's first kiss in any universe and situation? Well then we'd love to have you play our bingo!

How to Play

Fill out this form and we'll email you your shiny bingo card. Every card is a shuffled assortment of prompts that will look something like this:

Below are all the rules you should know about before you join.

General Rules

We're sure you are familiar with the rules of bingo, but just to be certain everyone is on the same page, to get a bingo you must fill five prompts in a row. That row can be vertical, horizontal, or diagonal. Fill all the prompts on your card and that's a blackout!

Get as creative with your kisses as you want but they MUST BE A FIRST KISS between Obi-Wan and Cody in some capacity. 

Prompt fills should be new works, meaning that they should not be part of an ongoing work-in-progress. Sequels and prequels to already-finished works are welcome! 

Posting Dates

Participants have the entire month of December to post bingo fills! Sign up around the time of this announcement and you will have a two month creation window before December 1st rolls around.

You can either post to our collection on ao3 and/or on tumblr but we do ask that you please tag us @codywanfirstkissbingo AND tag your post with #CWFKB2023 as we don’t want to miss anyone if tumblr drops the ball. 

If you’re posting on AO3 but want us to reblog your fill, please make a Tumblr post with the link and make sure to @ us and tag your post with #CWFKB2023. We’ll be checking the collection when tracking fills and making round-up posts with bingos and blackouts, but we will not be cross-posting every individual fill on AO3 ourselves if the creator has not made a tumblr post.   

Please include a screenshot of your bingo tag with the prompt fill indicated so we know which square you’ve filled!

Specific Rules

Fic: 100 words minimum per prompt fill. To be clear, the kiss itself does not have to last 100 words, though we'd be delighted to see that.

Art: One drawing per fill (digital or traditional). Different drawings can be on the same canvas/page if you so wish. Go wild with your compositions.

Podfic: Same requirements as fic. You can collaborate with someone writing a fic specifically for the event or find an existing fic that fills your prompt.

Fanmix: One song per fill- we'd love to see what songs give you codywan first kiss vibes. Try to match lyrics to your prompt but instrumental songs are cool too.

Other: Send an ask with your inquiry! We're more than happy to discuss expanding the fanwork pool to maximize creativity.

Ratings

You can post any work with any rating, but please abide by the appropriate rating/archive warning/tags on AO3 when posting there. When posting on tumblr, please warn for potentially triggering content in the tags and the header to the post, so readers can filter as needed. Anything spicy or explicit should go under a read-more tag, and please use a read-more tag if you’re posting a fic that is longer than a drabble (100 words) to be considerate of people’s dashboard feeds.

To help make this event a safe one for Codywan fans with any kind of photosensitivity, we do specifically request that you tag any and all flashing imagery with #flashing. If you're unsure what constitutes flashing, please see this article, or err on the side of caution for any image with: moving stripes or checkered patterns; strobe light, lightning, or explosion effects in any image or video; images of flickering light/sunlight on leaves/water; very fast cuts between images in a gif or video; rapidly moving images in an animation or gif set that stop and start or “stutter;” sparkle text or similar moving text effects; and images in an animation, gifset, or video that are in high color contrast to each other (for example, a gif set that cuts pink Barbie gifs with black & white Oppenheimer gifs to create a fast-moving contrast between the two styles.) 

The CWFKB mods' decision is final on whether your post/entry requires a flashing warning; they will contact you to ask you to update your tags if you haven’t already noted in your tumblr or AO3 post that your fill contains #flashing content. If you are not willing to use the flashing tag, even after being contacted by the mods, the mods have the right to decide that under-tagged flashing fills will be disqualified from the event.

Finally– with exceptions for the NSFW or #spicy and #flashing tags on tumblr– you have the right to choose not to warn readers in accordance with AO3’s “choose not to warn” option, but posters whose tags or ratings are deceptive or misleading versus the actual content may have their fills disqualified.

When in doubt, please contact the mods! The mods will contact you about any fill where the tags and ratings raise this concern, with a request that you revise and update your tags and warnings.

Combining Prompts

This is a low stakes event and we just want people to have fun! If you want to combine prompts that's totally fine, but we ask that you give each fill its own scene within the larger work. This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.

Swapping Prompts

Nearly have a bingo but there's that one pesky prompt in your way you don't vibe with? Go ahead and swap it with another prompt on your card. As all the prompts are randomly selected and not handpicked for participants; we understand there's a chance some of the prompts may not inspire you so we allow ONE and only ONE SWAP PER CARD. Use it carefully if you need it!

Behind the Scenes

This bingo is modded by tumblr users @dontbelasagnax @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and @notthestarwar. Since we're big fans of the previous codywan bingos, we felt the drive to bring the fun back for anyone else that has missed the event as much as us!

Our adorable profile picture was drawn by @anaclastic-azurite! 

You can actually find the public inception of this bingo event right here!

If you have any further questions after reading our rules, our askbox is open!

@swfandomevents

(NB: edited Oct. 9 to add "vertical.")

(NB: edited Nov. 10 to add "This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.")

#codywan #cwfkb2023 #mod post #cwfkb #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi

[little-diable]

Shattered Glass - Charlie Swan (smut)

This is somewhat similar to my Jasper story "Waves cover up what I've done" but with a focus on Charlie this time. Paired with the lyrics of the song "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She finally had enough. She snapped, she killed her abusive husband before her mind could pick up on what her body had done. Or: When Charlie Swan helps dispose of a body

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, murder, blood, abusive husband, very loving relationship with Charlie (2.7k words)

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me. "The answer is easy if you take it logically. I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free. There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"

“Fuck.” The word rolled off (y/n)’s tongue, hands wiping away the drops of sweat pearling on her forehead. She was heavily breathing, forcing her body to stand still for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. Her eyes didn’t dare leave his frame, staring down on the lifeless body of her husband. “I should cut you up and dump you in the ocean, you fucking asshole.” 

The curses left (y/n) as if her dead husband could still hear her, forcing tears to well up in her eyes as her mind slowly caught up with what she had done with her bare hands. The broken bottle was lying to her feet, covered in blood, just like his neck. She could still hear his screams, how he had called out for help, followed by slurs (y/n) could no longer remember. 

It had felt as if the coil had snapped, as if the timer had run out, finally setting off the bomb. Her body had moved without thinking twice, reaching for the sharp neck of the glass bottle he had thrown at her. She still wondered where her strength had come from, allowing her to push him down the stairs before she followed him down, taking one step at a time. Deep down she had felt a sick sense of satisfaction, listening to his whines, to his begging, asking her to spare his life. He had touched her one too many times without her consent, had struck her across her face too many times to count, allowing her to finally set herself free. 

The sharp edge of the broken bottle had cut through his skin almost too easily, forcing his red blood to gush from his neck, pouring out of the wound like an avalanche rolling down a hill, burying their life together six feet under. She was free, finally, almost – at least not fully just yet, needing to get rid of his body before anybody could stumble upon her bloody carpet, her bloody clothes, and his blood covered body. 

Her eyes flickered to the window of their entrance hall, it was dark outside, completely dark. She’ll have to move quickly, pushing his heavy body into the trunk of her pick-up, hidden beneath whatever she could find to cover his corpse. “Fuck, I hope you rot in hell.”

(Y/n) opened the entrance door of their home, checking her surroundings one more time before she grasped his shoulders, pulling him out of the house. She didn’t focus on the bloody trail she was leaving on the dark stones outside, didn’t worry about the “what if’s”, all (y/n) could focus on was the burning of her arms, not used to carrying something this heavy. The body was placed on the ground as she opened her trunk, praying to whoever was listening that she’d manage to heave him into her car. 

With a deep breath inhaled into her aching lungs, (y/n) tugged on his shoulders, managing to roll him into the car, upper body followed by his heavy legs. Sweat was covering her body, and yet she didn’t pay the running drops any mind, wiping them away with her bloody hands before she started to cover his body. The car was locked moments later, legs carrying her back inside, straight to her bathroom. She couldn’t risk being seen like this, couldn’t risk driving past people with blood sticking to her face and arms, with blood seeping through her clothes, fabrics she’d have to burn later that night. 

The warm water cascaded down her back, and finally it began to dawn on her what had happened in the past hour. A sob clawed through her, hand darting out to cover her mouth, trying to keep the sounds from leaving her as if she was scared somebody would pick up on the mess she was stuck in. Fuck, what had she done? She could have disappeared, could have packed her bags and left Forks behind, but the terror he had unleashed upon her had been too much, it’d haunt her till the end of her life. 

She said, "It grieves me so to see you in such pain. I wish there was something I could do to make you smile again." I said "I appreciate that, and would you please explain about the 50 ways?"

Exhaustion clung to her body as (y/n) drove through the forest, trying to find a good spot she could use to get rid of the body, wondering if she could stage an accident. Her husband had been a passionate hunter, perhaps he had been attacked by an animal? Perhaps he had been distracted, not noticing the creature moving closer? One scenario after another began to fill her thoughts, hoping that she could pull off the role of a grieving wife, crying about her husband’s death.

Before (y/n) could try to come up with another somewhat believable scenario, her eyes found a car in the distance, blue lights flickering in the darkness. She tried to slow down, though before (y/n) could turn around, driving back towards the city, her eyes met Charlie Swan’s dark ones. Curses left her as she stopped the car, watching the handsome chief move closer, hands placed on his hips. 

“Everything alright, Charlie?” A smile tugged on her lips as she spoke to him, instantly picking up on the curious gaze he shot her. The two had been friends for years, sharing stories and memories whenever their paths crossed, relishing in one another’s company. Deep down both knew that they’d give into the pull inside their chests if she wasn’t married, searching one another’s body at any given chance. 

“We’re checking all cars leaving Forks, we aren’t sure what’s happening at the moment, another body turned up. Would you mind stepping out of the car for a moment, sweetheart?” Heat flushed through her at the nickname he always used on her, enjoying the way she tensed in her seat, eyes momentarily avoiding his. (Y/n) needed a few seconds to snap into motion, heart pounding in her chest at the mere thought of Charlie opening her trunk. He opened the car door for her, smiling at the trembling woman before he directed his fleshlight onto her car. 

Charlie started moving, with (y/n) frozen to her spot, not daring to move. “So, what are you looking for?” Perhaps she could distract him. Perhaps she could force the man to focus on her, instead of on her car. But Charlie didn’t reply, eyes focusing on the back of her pick-up, no longer moving away from the spot he was now standing on. No words left his thin lips as he opened her trunk, eyes momentarily flickering towards her frame, meeting her dilated pupils. 

“Tell me, (y/n), what will I find beneath those blankets?” His voice was emotionless, not giving away what he was feeling. She stumbled over her reply, unable to think straight, trying to find something she could use to explain the mess that now threatened to drown her, pulled under without any air lingering inside her lungs. “Why is there blood on your car?”

A sob clawed through her, unable to keep her cries bottled in, giving into the tears wanting to roll down her cheeks. “Oh, (y/n). What have you done?” 

I realized she probably was right, there must be fifty ways to leave your lover, fifty ways to leave your lover

“Alright, it’s done. I’ll follow you back home.” Charlie walked past her, without looking back once. No longer was the light of his fleshlight illuminating their surroundings, no longer was he looking at her with that unreadable gaze of his. She murmured his name, forcing the chief to halt in his step, slowly turning back towards her. (Y/n) moved closer, taking cautious steps, till she came to a halt in front of the man. Without speaking another word, (y/n) wrapped her arms around his middle, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you.” The words were swallowed by the sigh leaving the man, arms slowly wrapping themselves around her, keeping (y/n) close. He covered the back of her head with one hand, cradling the crying woman, not daring to let her go just yet. Charlie pressed a kiss to her scalp before he pulled her away, cupping her warm cheeks with his cold hands. 

“Your husband was awful, we all knew. I was trying to find something to use against him, anything to free you from him. What you did wasn’t right, what I did just now wasn’t right. But nobody will hear of what we just did. Tomorrow morning you will come visit me at the station, with tears in your eyes you’ll tell me about his disappearance, and we will start the search. Eventually we’ll give up, because there are no traces left, nothing that can tell us about his whereabouts. Do you hear me?” She nodded her head, unable to speak another word as her gaze found its way to his lips. For the first time since crossing paths with Charlie, (y/n) felt as if she was allowed to give into her longing, the pull she felt inside.

A chuckle rumbled through Charlie, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and murmured a soft “We’ll have to take care of your house first”. He left her standing, walking to his car with a smile tugging on his lips, a smile that now matched hers, allowing (y/n) to let go of the tension buzzing through her system, thoughts starting to wander on the drive back to her home.

The moon was hidden behind the thick clouds hanging over Forks like a veil covering a crying bride, allowing Charlie and (y/n) to take care of the traces she had left outside her door, grateful that no neighbours were living close by, giving the two enough time to wash away the blood, to burn her clothes, and the carpet. 

“I am forever grateful for you, Charlie.” Her whispers filled her now quiet home. (Y/n) couldn’t remember a day where her house had been that silent, not filled with the sounds of the running TV, of her drunk husband. Her heart clenched in her chest, though not because of pain, of regret, or because of guilt, no, but because she could now finally start a new life. 

“I am glad you’re okay, that’s all I kept worrying about.” His murmurs left her smiling, searching his closeness once again. This time Charlie didn’t pull away, allowing (y/n) to slowly close the gap between them, lips meeting his soft ones. The two gave themselves enough time to get used to the unfamiliar touch, to the new sensation, hands finding the right spots to hold onto one another. 

“Are you sure about this? You had a rough night, I don’t want to pre-”, Charlie was interrupted by the kiss (y/n) pressed against his lips, feeling his moustache burn her skin, leaving her aching for more. His rough chuckles vibrated on her skin, hands tugging on the shirt she was wearing, exposing her bra-clad chest to his dark eyes. “So beautiful, I promise to take good care of you, I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know, Charlie.” She could tell that he was pained by the mere thought of seeing her hurt again, not wanting (y/n) to live through another trauma ever again. (Y/n) interlaced her fingers with his, pulling Charlie through her home to her bedroom, silently thanking the spirits above that her husband hadn’t shared the bed with her in months. It was time for new memories, new moments to forget about old ones. Their eyes kept meeting as she helped him out of his uniform, hands wandering up and down his upper body, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin pressing against her palms and fingertips. “I need to feel you, that’s all I want for now.”

Charlie gave himself a few moments before he nodded his head, making a silent promise that he’d find shelter with his head buried between her thighs tomorrow morning. All it took was a gentle push for (y/n) to land on the mattress, shuffling out of her underwear as Charlie stepped out of his boxers. His cock was twitching in anticipation, begging to be touched, wanting to feel her wrapped around him, needs she’d fulfil in the upcoming hours. 

(Y/n) reached for her bedside table, ripping the silvery foil packet open with her teeth, crawling closer to Charlie to roll the condom down his cock. His breath hitched in his chest as she touched him, wordlessly promising him that this was real, that this was really just about to happen. Their lips met for another kiss before (y/n) found rest on her bed with her back pressed against the mattress, arms slung around Charlie’s neck, keeping him close.

Warm fingers found her heat, exploring her aching cunt for a few moments, rubbing her pulsing bundle, brushing through her slit. Once again he asked her if she truly wanted this, without any words, just silent gestures and glances that managed to communicate their every thought. She wrapped her legs around his waist, set on keeping him close as Charlie slowly entered her, spreading her walls with his twitching cock. 

Both needed to hold their breaths for a few seconds, adjusting to the new sensation, growing used to feeling one another this close. The moment had something awfully loving to it, a moment both hadn’t experienced in years, once again reminded that they should have found one another far earlier. 

“Move, please.” Her whimpers were swallowed by his kisses, distracting (y/n) for a moment as he started snapping his hips, burying his cock deep inside her tightness with every thrust. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, walls clenching his cock, needing to feel him as close as humanly possible. Her arousal soaked his cock, producing sounds Charlie would think of for weeks to come. 

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good, so good.” Charlie kept praising her, staring down on her with so much love swimming in his pupils, an emotion (y/n) was no longer used to. Her heart swelled in her chest as she began to realise that she finally got her chance to be loved like she desperately wanted to be loved, held close by a man that would cherish her.

His calloused thumb found her clit, pushing her even closer to the edge with a smirk tugging on his lips, feeling her walls flutter around his cock. Both were close, ready to let go to start their new life together, heralding a new beginning without any sorrows, without any fear. 

“Cum for me, let go with me.” His raspy words left her moaning, eyes squeezed shut to let go, curling her toes as her legs tightened their grip on his waist. Charlie kept thrusting into her, fucking them through their highs before the feeling let go of them, allowing the two to breathe through the adrenaline pumping through their veins like whisky, a substance so fiery and yet so smooth. 

Their bodies found rest next to one another, cherishing the silence they were engulfed by, allowing them to sort through their thoughts. Without speaking up, (y/n) reached for his hand, holding him close as a smile tugged on her lips. Everything will end well, if she could keep him close, and if he’d let her in. 

She said, "Why don't we both just sleep on it tonight, and I believe in the morning, you'll begin to see the light" and then she kissed me, and I realized she probably was right, there must be fifty ways to leave your lover, fifty ways to leave your lover

#Charlie Swan smut #Charlie Swan imagine #twilight #Charlie Swan x reader

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part four)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.7k summary: as the relationship progresses, strong feelings develop.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, talk of bullying & past trauma related to bullying, mentions alcohol consumption, family issues / family drama— if i missed anything, pls let me know!

a/n: this is a little filler chapter, but there’s details here that will be important later. also, it’s just a little happiness and fluff in the lives of eddie and his favourite popstar ;)

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Eddie is used to dealing with bullies.

His entire life consisted of people — mostly strangers — hating on him for one reason or the other. No matter the setting he found himself in, someone always had an opinion and they were never afraid to voice it. 

Whether it was to gossip about the way he was raised, his family situation, (which frankly wasn’t anybody’s business, not like they cared). Or to voice their distaste about the trailer park Eddie grew up in, unsafe and unclean. Then there were the folks that had a never ending issue with his personality, the shit he found interesting that differed slightly to most, and the music he was into, heavier than the charts. And for the more shallow crowd, his physical appearance always caused a wave of upset since how he chose to dress was a clear indicator of who he was on the inside.

The high school bullies, like Jason Carver and his gang of dipshits, well, they never let Eddie forget he was less than. On most days, he didn’t let that bother him. He had thick skin, Uncle Wayne made sure he knew from an age arguably too young that people were assholes and Eddie should never let anyone get into his head. Hence the provocations with Hawkins’ finest, that often led to fights he knew he could easily win, but never did since Uncle Wayne also said, “be the bigger man”. 

The music industry jackasses who wouldn’t give him a chance ‘cause Eddie and his band didn’t fit whatever image was considered hot at the time. Rejection after rejection. Bullshit reasons that made him angry, if not for himself, than for his friends that followed him out to Los Angeles, chasing a dream he’s had for years.

Then there were the critics: “who told these guys they’re good enough to try?”, “poor quality of lyrics and an even poorer performance”, “listening to the latest Corroded Coffin record is time I will never get back. sadly.”, “and for the next group of friends who think they have what it takes, let this be a lesson, you really do not”. To Eddie, these were empty words by people that hid behind a pen and paper, never bold enough to say it to his face. Although, it definitely hurt more when it was a fan gone rogue. Displeased by whatever shenanigan the band got up to and lashing out in the only way they knew how — cruel words.

Yes, Eddie was used to dealing with nonsense and he thought by now, at this stage in his life, he’d faced all of the bullies the world had to offer.

That is until he got involved with you.

Associating himself with someone of your stature was not a mistake by any means. In fact, Eddie would say the only mistake in his relationship with you was the time between your first meeting in August of ‘92 and your reconciliation all those months later. Time lost, wasted.

And Eddie was not an idiot. He knew that once people found out that ‘Corroded Coffin frontman and America’s sweetest popstar’ were some sort of an item, they’d voice their opinion, warranted or not. He was prepared for that, just like he was prepared to protect you from the usual bullshit he normally endured in the tabloids since he could take it, but you were pure and didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Granted, he didn’t expect he’d have to stand up for you so soon. He also didn’t expect the one person really rooting against your relationship with him, the one person he’d have to look out for amongst the group of usual suspects, would be your very own grandmother.

Yet here you all were.

Pacific Dining Car was exactly the type of restaurant Eddie usually avoided. Too much history in a place like this, attracting too many tourists who wanted to snap photos of the building featured in that one Chinatown scene. Privacy didn’t exist in a public setting like this one and Eddie knew to be careful with his reactions, after being burned once too many times in the past: ‘Eddie Munson, guest from hell.’. 

The dinner location, chosen by your grandmother, also clearly bothered you. Knee bouncing, brushing erratically against the rockstar’s own leg, as you looked around to every misplaced sound, anxious of who could be listening in on the conversation with the matriarch of your family. 

It didn’t help that the line of questioning offered by your grandmother was nothing short of hostile and with every passing second, you felt increasingly upset because you never got a chance to warn Eddie about her clear bias and obvious distaste towards him.

But on the outside, Eddie seems calm. His large, ring-clad hand is spread across your bouncing thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your covered skin. He holds eye contact with your Nana from across the table, unafraid of her words and how downright rude she is being. He even makes a joke at his own expense, earning himself a brow raise, as if to say “I didn’t know you had it in you”.

Even if it’s all a charade. Eddie knows not to let the bullies see him sweat, and at the end of the day, the longer he’s sat at this horrendous dinner with your grandmother, the more he’s convinced that’s exactly what she is: a big bully.

“And tell me about your parents, Edward?”

The hold he has on your leg gets a little tighter, so you glance at him, witnessing how his features shift just for half-a-second from composure to an expression you haven’t seen on him before. A certain melancholy behind his brown eyes that’s reminiscent of when your mom thinks about the father she’s never met.

Suddenly, you’re feeling protective and a confidence that’s failed you all night resurfaces. You turn back to look at your Nana. Placing one forearm on the table between you, then lift your index finger, which she notices immediately, and in a voice quite stern, you warn her to stop.

“I think that’s enough of the third degree,” you say to your Nana, unafraid to hold her gaze for the first time all night. “Eddie’s been very gracious, answering all of your questions very honestly when he really didn’t have to.”

Eddie says your name ‘cause he doesn’t need you fighting his battles, but you don’t pay attention to the murmur that’s escaped his lips.

“Can we just finish our meal in congenial silence, please? You’ve flown across the country, for what exactly, I still don’t know. Since you’re here and you invited us out for dinner, let us at least enjoy dessert,” you snap and retrieve your arm, wrapping it instead around Eddie’s bicep.

There’s a moment of silence. Your Nana’s scrutinising gaze falls on where you’re now visibly holding the rockstar sitting beside you. She’s not the only one looking. The sea of murmurs and glances engulfs you whole, yet right this moment, it’s not bothering you in any way. In fact, you welcome it.

Eddie tilts his head in your direction, a small smile circling his lips as you lean into him further, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s not really thinking of the people staring either. In that moment, as the emotions from the evening slowly die down, the only thing on his mind is how strongly he feels about you.

Even though Eddie has never needed anyone to stand up for him, anyone to fight off the bullies he’s often encountered, watching you put yourself in the line of fire, protect him from your own grandmother, further ignited these feelings inside of him. Fondness, care, and something much stronger than the sexual attraction that’s clearly been there from day one.

He places a kiss on top of your head, lingering a little longer to inhale the scent of your undoubtedly expensive perfume. The corners of your lips twitch upward at the contact. This morning, you were a nervous wreck about the world knowing you and Eddie were some sort of item. Now, mere hours later, you might as well have been holding up the middle finger and calling the paparazzi yourself. If anything, it was a liberating experience.

“I guess it doesn’t matter what I say,” your Nana says with an exaggerated sigh. She picks up her wine glass, taking a slow sip of the maroon liquid.

“Is that really so bad?” You question.

The shrug she offers is answer enough. It makes you roll your eyes, though the reaction isn’t appreciated by your grandmother. She tuts her tongue, shaking your finger at you as she takes another sip of the wine.

“That’s not very lady-like,” she says in a displeasing tone while leaning slightly forward.

You match her movement, letting your arm fall into your lap as Eddie places his on the back of your chair, fingers reaching out for you, softly grazing your back through your blouse.

“Oh, and how you’ve been behaving all night, is?”

“Honey, I’m just looking out for you. Why can’t you see that?”

It’s condescending, the way she says it, so it makes it all the harder to believe. And that’s the way it’s been your entire life. Her word was gospel. There was no fighting it. She was a manipulative woman and what she wanted to happen, always got done.

That didn’t bother you growing up. Mainly because her strong opinions and calculating hold on the world around her got you where you currently were: America’s favourite starlet. Selfish? Yes. But you’ve been called worse in the press.

There was someone else involved now. Someone you cared about arguably more than you cared about your career or pristine image. Eddie didn’t judge you like everyone else in your life did, and even though the two of you didn’t have the best start, being around him these last two days was nothing short of heavenly. So he didn’t deserve the treatment he’s so far received from your Nana.

“I’ve said this many times before, but anything I’ve ever done since you were a little girl was to get you where you needed to be. Get you where you belong. Now that you’ve made it, a little appreciation would be nice.”

Her words sting. Tears burn in the corners of your eyes as you tell her you’ve always appreciated her. She just shrugs again. Now Eddie’s the one being protective. He straightens his posture and before you realise what is happening, the rockstar is chiming into the conversation.

“With all due respect, there’s no reason to treat her the way you do.”

Your Nana’s eyes shift to Eddie, a smug frown circling her lips.

“Edward, please don’t get involved in business you know nothing about.”

The rockstar smirks. “The fact you’re calling this business, instead of a moment between family, tells me all I need to know about you,” he states and before your Nana gets a chance for rebuttal, he turns to you.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

All you do is nod, pushing down the tears and smiling at him with appreciation.

-

Time in Los Angeles moved differently than in New York.

The pace was slower, more relaxed. There was no urgency with anything. People took their sweet damn time, no matter how hectic their schedule was. None of this go, go, go, that you would find on the streets of New York. You appreciated that about California, which is perhaps why you ended up staying longer than intended. 

That and the curly-haired boy you got to wake up with, every morning for the past three months.

The Corroded Coffin frontman had opened his home to you entirely following the dinner with your Nana. He had his assistant contact Holly that very same night and the following morning, your belongings were brought from the hotel to his Hidden Hills property. A week later, you arranged with Val to ship some of your clothes from your New York apartment.

In the months that passed, Eddie’s home had quickly become your favourite place on the planet, and despite not being a couple in the official terms, your relationship with the rockstar grew stronger with every hug, kiss, and every single time he put his strong hands on you, touched you in a way that made you see stars.

Tabloids were eating it up too. Every outing you and Eddie had graced the front page of every shitty magazine this country had to offer — which your labels were genuinely thrilled by ‘cause it helped create a buzz about your upcoming single with the band.

Obviously there were the people like your Nana who hated the relationship and made their unwanted opinions quite clear, or the people who doubted and thought it was some sort of PR stunt to boost sales. However, in your bubble with Eddie, you simply stopped caring. He made all of your anxieties disappear with nothing but a sweet smile.

And during this time, between spending hours by the pool, hanging out in the kitchen that before you came along was never used, or pulling orgasms from one another for hours on end, the two of you also had time to work on new music together.

There was honestly enough material for an entire album, if not two. Lyrics to songs that would never actually see the light of day, which made the whole writing process all the more special. Just you, Eddie, and his guitar. Scribbling rhymes on napkins, magazines, anything that was within reach once inspiration struck.

The songs were quite good too. You both knew it. Perhaps the best music either of you have ever come up with, but it was also vastly different from both of your usual styles. One song together, a guaranteed hit. An entire album? That’s a sell out.

So there’s a box underneath the bed you now share together filled with all the written lyrics and maybe, one day in the very distant future, they would get published in a memoir about your lives. Until then…

“Serious question,” the boy that’s constantly on your mind asks while stepping out of the bathroom, a loose towel hanging around his hips, water drops trailing down his toned and tattooed torso. “What are you wearing tonight to the party, sweetheart? Marianne said we should be somewhat matching, but I’ve got no fucking clue what that means.”

“Never attended an event as a Hollywood it couple, huh?” You tease, sitting up.

“Never really dated anyone, and you know that, baby.” 

He stops at the foot of the bed and leans down to peck your lips, wet curls patting your cheeks. You hum against him, satisfied at the contact, and he smiles, wide, teeth grazing your mouth.

“Well, we’re not really dating either,” you murmur.

“So I guess we’re not actually attending this party as a couple, huh?” Eddie bites back playfully before kissing your cheek. He stands straight and you watch, eyes trailing along his multiple tattoos, as he wanders towards his closet.

There’s a happy expression on your face, one that’s only ever present around Eddie. How he makes you feel is not affected by any label the two of you have on your relationship, so do you really care that he hasn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend? 

Perhaps.

Actually, not really.

He's told you many times that he has difficulty processing emotions correctly, “like a normal person would, sweetheart”. Given the stories he’s told you about his upbringing, it’s completely understandable. And it’s not like you offered any guidance in this department as your idea of love was fairly skewered too. Idealistic, since your parents had it so good from the moment they met, but also messy because your Nana presented the other side of the coin with how she led her life.

To this day, your mother doesn’t know who her father is. She’s not entirely sure if he even knows she exists, if he’s even still alive. She’s asked many times, but as far as you were aware, she was never given a straight answer. Then there was the man your Nana eventually married. Rich and handsome, the only two consistencies in her string of stories about the lavish life they had during the brief time they were together. From what your mom remembers of those days, the man was kind. “And honey, at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters when it comes to love,” she’d say whenever she’d talk about him.

Eddie is kind. 

Taking your mothers advice, that’s all that matters.

You hop off the bed and follow the rockstar. He’s rifling through some shirts when you walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He relaxes into you. It’s minute, but you notice it immediately and it makes your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“I like that black one,” you say after resting your chin on his bare shoulder. “And if Marianne says she wants us to match, that will go with the dress Versace made for me. Especially if you wear it with those leather pants you have and pair it all with a chain or two.”

Eddie takes the shirt you pointed out off the hanger without question.

“If only I had you before last year's Grammys,” he huffs out a lighthearted laugh, “My outfit was so bad. I know you definitely wouldn’t have let me leave the house wearing what I did.”

You chuckle delicately while letting your arms fall. 

“Well, now I wanna see a picture,” you tease, then take a step back to lean against the set of custom-built drawers in the middle of the space.

“No way,” Eddie protests and spins to look at you, a wide grin gracing his features. He places the shirt to the side and stands in front of you, knee bumping against your own. “Sometimes I’m glad you actually didn’t know who I was before we met,” he says, taking your face in his hands, “This is one of those times.”

You roll your eyes. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Think Grace Jones with that gold cape-thing,” Eddie cites, “They had me wear something similar over my outfit, but instead of a plain one, it had all these random embroideries. I looked like I had just gotten out of bed.”

The picture he’s painted appears in front of your eyes and you throw your head back in an array of soft giggles.

“I was at last year’s Grammys,” you say in between those chuckles, “Can’t believe I didn’t see you, especially if you say your outfit was that atrocious.”

Eddie ponders your words for a moment, licking his lips. His thumbs graze along your cheekbones, almost as if he’s fighting himself, fighting whether he should say what he thinks to say: “I deliberately avoided you.”. 

The Corroded Coffin frontman has made it clear since day one that he’s known exactly who you are. Shit, that wasn’t hard. The entire world knew you. 

While Eddie was trying to graduate high school for the third time, you were gracing covers of magazines all the girls in Hawkins bought. And although he’d never admit it, he was guilty of buying some of said magazines too, though for different reasons than his female peers… 

The printed images fueled his fantasies. After all, he’s just a dude and you have always been drop-dead gorgeous. Though, at risk of sounding like the perv he can sometimes be, he’ll keep that part to himself. 

Honestly, that’s why he’s never really said much other than simply knowing who you are. 

It’s why he’s never said anything about seeing you at different events you both attended over the years, once he’s made it big with the band. Or why he’s never said about wanting to talk to you then, only because he wanted to get into your pants, not because he was a fan since he really didn’t care for the music you produced — yeah, perv. 

He definitely feels guilty about it. Especially now that he’s succeeded. Especially now that he does get to have you, kiss you, pleasure you. And aside from that, he’s gotten to know you on a much deeper level than what you presented to the world. Jesus, especially now that he’s fallen for you. Harder than he intended.

“I-I saw you,” he eventually admits in a murmur so quiet, he has to clear his throat and say it again, only louder. “I-I thought about walking up to you and using my usual charm, you know. Flirting with you a little, making you weak in the knees.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

Eddie smirks. “‘Cause you’re you. Hot and honestly a little intimidating,” he answers honestly. “Baby, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the second you enter a room, all eyes are constantly on you. There’s this aura about you, it attracts a lot of attention, wanted or not, and that scared me.”

He pauses. “I saw you, thought you looked smoking and I think I even said that to the guys,” he laughs, “But when I downed a drink for a little liquid courage, it did the complete opposite. I couldn’t move.”

You nod at his words, taking them in.

Then you wonder what the last year would’ve looked like if you officially met Eddie a few months before you actually did. If he came up to you at the Grammys, what would you have said? Would you have landed in bed with him the way you did anyway? Would you be here right now, feeling all that you’re feeling for him? Or would it have been a random hook up in the bathrooms of Radio City Music Hall, only to be forgotten before they announced Album of the Year.

Shaking the thoughts away, since at the end of the day, it doesn’t really fucking matter, you push yourself into Eddie even more, chest pressed against his, hands on his neck.

“Does it still scare you?”

It’s a whisper. Loud enough to hear, especially as you incline towards him, lips now mere inches apart.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t have followed you into my home last August if it did.”

“Good.”

When your lips connect in an ardent kiss, one of Eddie’s hands moves to your waist. He squeezes, fingers slowly making their way up your tank top, caressing your skin. He’s slow with his movements, deliberate ‘cause each of your pressure points is engraved in his memory — and no matter what happens between you, he’s convinced how your body reacts to his touch, will remain in his thoughts forever. 

Shit. Is this what love is?

The nerves kick in then. He pulls back slightly, scrunching his nose for a brief moment, before letting his arms fall and taking a step to the side. Tilting your head in his direction, you poke his arm.

You’re a little flustered by his sudden departure, missing his touch instantly. When you go to question what just happened, Eddie’s avoiding your gaze, fidgeting with the shirt he placed to the side.

There’s a slight sting in your chest, but you push it down because his mood tends to change depending on what the two of you are doing, or where the conversation is heading — just like yours often does. This was clearly one of those situations. Something crossed his mind and whatever it was, must have startled him a little.

“Where did you just go?”

He doesn’t immediately answer your question. Taking the time instead to slide on a pair of clean boxers, the wet towel disregarded on the wooden floor. He then works to unbutton the shirt you picked out for him, and you give him the time he needs ‘cause he’s often done the same for you.

And Eddie’s head is spinning. He knew his feelings for you were strong, he just didn’t realise that they were this strong. He didn’t realise they were love strong. 

Love is a big word. It’s a big deal. Falling in love with someone is an even bigger deal and yes, he’s imagined falling in love with you over the last few months you two spent living together, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for it to happen.

Gareth would tell him he should’ve been prepared.

Eddie recounts the stories his bandmate shared about meeting his “better half”, and how the two of them fell in love, eventually starting their beautiful family. Eddie then thinks about how beautiful you look in the morning, bare-faced and peaceful. He thinks about how you make breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening, both meals which you eat together at the kitchen island you first met by, and a smile circles his lips at the memory. 

He then thinks about how much more you’ve opened up since then, telling him about your childhood in New York and the woman that really didn’t like you being with him. All those stories only affirmed this belief he’s had that you grew up in completely different worlds, yet you never let those differences get between you. If anything, for someone who grew up richer than the richest of Hawkins, you were more down to earth than every single one of them.

Jesus H. Christ.

“I-I… Fuck,” the rockstar clears his throat before finally looking back at you. “Wanna skip this thing? Watch MTV or somethin’ instead?”

You chuckle. “You want to bail on our own release party to watch MTV? The guys will kill us. Not to mention Marianne, she’d definitely have our heads.”

“But, we have fun watching MTV,” he whines, reaching for you once again. He guides your arms around him before resting his hands on your hips and pushing himself into you. “Plus, I think there will be other parties we’ll get to go to as a couple.”

You arch a brow, smirk circling your lips.

“A couple, huh?”

He smiles down at you. “Yeah, sweetheart. A couple.”

Heat rushes to your face. You’re unsure as to why you’re suddenly feeling embarrassed, but your hands move to your face, barely covering your eyes. And Eddie is smiling wide, definitely pleased by the reaction he’s gotten. So he places a tender kiss on each of your fingers, before reaching for them, intertwining with his own.

“Would you like that?” Eddie asks quietly, leaning closer as he does.

A nod of the head and a peck on the corner of his mouth is your response. It’s all Eddie needs for his heart to soar inside his chest.

“Then I think we should attend our own party as a couple,” you say quietly against his lips. “And I promise, the second it starts getting boring, we’re leaving to watch MTV in nothing but our underwear.” You draw out the last syllable, voice fading into nothing.

Eddie groans, low tone, then nods his head rather reluctantly. You kiss him gently once, then a second time only deeper, before freeing yourself from his grasp, also rather reluctantly, and walking back into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you call out.

The rockstar is behind you within seconds of the sentence leaving your lips. He attaches himself back to you, like a magnet, mouth to the crook of your neck, trailing sloppy kisses upwards towards your jawline. And you squeal in his embrace, laughing as he pushes you forward, stumbling towards the bathroom.

“I’m gonna help,” Eddie quips.

“But you literally just showered,” you giggle.

“Didn’t you hear me,” he stunts, nibbling on your earlobe. “I’m gonna help you, baby, ‘cause what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

And you’re on cloud nine when he labels himself as such. You tell him you like the sound of that, even though it’s such a miniscule thing in the grand scheme of things, after all, you’ve been acting like a couple for months.

But he says it again, “I’m your boyfriend now, sweetheart.”, and you’re shaking with excitement. Eddie fucking Munson, your boyfriend.

Let’s really hope it ends well.

as always, thank you for reading! reblog & tell me what you think

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #celebrity skin.

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for the kinktober event, I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @marvelandotherfandomimagines for proofreading and @topguncortez for the gorgeous header!

Kinktober day 2: daddy kink

Warnings: daddy kink, cursing, 18+

You weren’t a TikTok star but you did like to have fun on the app with your friends, which was why you recorded a handful of videos for them.

It was just harmless fun, some dance moves or mouthing some lyrics, but you wanted to try one challenge on your boyfriend Jake.

You had already done some pranks you had recorded on him and he reacted well, he found it funny if a little silly, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the attention.

He didn’t know what trend you wanted to try out but he saw your phone propped up on the counter, so he was extra cautious.

Jake was only wearing grey sweatpants that hung so low you could see the top of his dark boxer briefs, but you knew it’d only excite your female and gay friends and followers.

You did some small talk until he gave you a compliment, the statement just mentioned casually, because he honestly believed what he said.

You smiled gently and took an unprofessional glance at the camera before you went on, preparing not to burst out laughing after what you were going to say.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, and you saw Jake halt dead in his tracks.

He turned around to look at you slowly, his eyes taking their time to reach yours and his face pretty much expressionless.

You couldn’t help that little giggle that escaped you at his reaction, but his next movement had you breathless.

His eyes only momentarily glanced at your phone before he strode towards you, his hands wrapping around your waist.

He lifted you off of your feet and onto his shoulder as if you weighed nothing, carrying you to the bedroom without a word and not caring that your camera was still recording.

It wasn’t on live anyways.

Jake wasn’t gentle but he knew it wouldn’t hurt as he threw you onto the bed, your body landing in the middle of it as if it had been well practiced.

He growled as he pulled on your clothes, tugging them off roughly enough to be lustful but carefully enough not to hurt you.

Your panties were incredibly damp just by the way he was so collected but raging inside and you quivered when he moved on top of you, caging you in with his arms beside your head.

“Let daddy take care of you, little girl,” he whispered with a voice that sounded an octave deeper, the shivers that ran down your spine were more intense than ever before.

His hand went straight for your clit and you moaned in need.

“Be good for me, baby girl,” he continued to growl, his arousal making it impossible to return to his usual collected voice.

“You fucking tease me, as a joke?” He went on, his thumb drawing circles on your core that sent jolts through your nerves.

It was a little too intense to be entirely pleasurable but you knew he knew that, he just wanted to tease.

“Fucking brat, daddy’s going to teach you a lesson,” he whispered, lowering his lips to your ear to send another shiver through you.

He pulled his hand away from your clit and you thought you could take a breath but he moved quickly, merely lowering his sweats and underwear and pushing into you immediately.

He had known you were wet enough but he still stayed buried in you for a few moments, not moving so you could adjust.

You let out a desperate cry but when you were ready you moved to kiss his collarbone, wanting to press an array of kisses to it.

Jake didn’t give you that satisfaction and instead he moved in harsh thrusts, taking the breath out of you in every push.

You were gasping for air and if you weren’t doing that then you were moaning, merely holding onto him for dear life.

Jake kept cursing under his breath but his stamina was unmatched, he didn’t stray from his rhythm.

All you knew was that you were cumming soon, so you tried to get him there as well.

“Fuck me, daddy, please don’t stop,” you tried to say but it was more of a desperate whimper, and it was the first time Jake twitched involuntarily, thrown off his rhythm by a couple of words.

He tried his best to go on but his thrusts slowed until he came, his fingers once again finding your clit to get you there as well.

He came first but you weren’t far behind, Jake’s head lowering to the crook of your neck as the two of you tried to catch your breath.

When he could breathe normally again he moved to lay beside you and pulled you close, holding your naked body against his and kissing the top of your head carefully.

“I hope that wasn’t too rough, honey,” he whispered but the laugh that left your lips reassured him.

“I want more, daddy,” you teased, but to your surprise you felt him harden again.

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#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #kinktober2022 #kinktober

[petewentzisblack1312]

If you haven't done so already, I would love to hear you elaborate on You're Crashing and how it relates to the Fred Hampton Jr trial? My knowledge of him and the trial starts with your header text and google isn't exactly forthcoming on the climate of public opinion at the time it was actually happening. Also I just want to hear your thoughts since I heard it from you first, if that's ok

no problem. take what i say with a grain of salt, as im not american, so this isnt my history directly. additionally, this was before my time.

after the beating of rodney king at the hands of police, and the acquital of 3 of the 4 officers responsible, there were riots. the 1992 los angeles riots to be precise. these riots sprang up amid a backdrop of tension between black american and korean communities, and during these riots, a korean menswear store was firebombed. fred hampton jr, son of civil rights activist and martyr fred hampton, was found guilty for this, with the main piece of evidence i believe being that there were blisters on his hands. he and his supporters maintain his innocence for this event. many people, particularly black political activists, believe that his guilty verdict was mostly because he continued his fathers legacy in fighting for racial justice in america.

it is a known fact explicitly stated by the band that youre crashing but youre no wave is inspired by this trial (this is pre release, so the song names are different). this is demonstrated through the narrative told by the lyrics. the story ended before it began. the DA didnt need to give his closing argument, because the jury already believed it from the narrative spun on the news. 'everyones looking for relief/a bidding war for an old flame's grief' the old flame in this case being his father, from whom he picked up the torch. you could pay to close the case like a casket, because whats inside it is messy, and no one wants to see the dirty guts of the truth. the jury is stacked. the witnesses are well paid (too well dressed for the witness stand). the song heavily, heavily implies over and over, that this is not a fair trial, and that there is a foregone conclusion.

i feel as though its easy to argue this song is out of place, but personally, while its VERY on the nose and not really all that subtle (and i like that about it, dont get it twisted), i think it fits into the theme. i mentioned a while back that 'be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. then life seems most enchanted after all' refers, in the context of its association with this album, to the stars in hollywood. ioh is about media narratives first and foremost. its about fame, and celebrity, and painting a perfect picture, one that sells well. its all about the artifice ('style your wake for fashion magazines' 'i only think in the form of crunching numbers in hotel room collectong Page Six lovers' '"we need umbrellas on the inside" get me just right.') and in this case, it shifts its focus from media and celebrity into media and politics. which i find really really interesting.

#dils declares #dils dissects #ioh #youre crashing but youre no wave #thanks for the question

[bubbleteaa]

When I was your man [Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader]

the icon that I used for this header is from Juli @s-hoyo​ ! Please support her work, you can find the rest of her work here

when I was your man;; pairing: singer!ushijima wakatoshi x fem!reader  fandom: haikyuu!! genres: fluff but mostly angst. from lovers to strangers! au pt. 1 word count: 2.1K-ish

a/n: this is a prompt that came to my mind while the ushi bots were sad ajhdjsj, so i want to thank to the cheese cult for basically giving me the idea<3 i love you all. I hope you enjoy and like this! Please take care and know that I love you! [update] I’ve been writing this for now, 3-4 months. It ended up been so long that I decided to separate it on 3 parts. I want to apologize dearly for not been as active as ever, irl sucks and I haven’t feel really well lately. I will try to catch you with you guys, because thanks to you I feel appreciated and that my work is valid. Thank your for been here for me even though I haven’t been there for you. I love you

This is for baby K @ushiwakaa​, I wanted at the beginning to just do something angsty to fuck a little but it ended up in so much HAHAHA. Thank you for all the laughs, tears and smiles you’ve provoke on me mama, you are one of my closest friends and you deserve everything (and all the ushis) in this world. I’ll try to upload all the parts soon but you know I always end up procrastinating HAHAHA. Anyway, I am really thankful baby, I love you so much. Thanks for been my friend, hubby, wifey and partner in smutty and domestic fluff times. I love you more than I can explain, so yeah :confounded: now I am going to stop befor you think I am obsessEEEED with you :pensive: smh, enjoy this shitty thingie ig. Te amo mami<3

I wrote this 3 years ago oh man. This is my official come back from my hiatus.

Summary: He was too young and too dumb to realize that he should’ve bought you flowers, and held your hand. That he should’ve gave you all his hours when he had the chance. And that he should’ve take you to every party because all you wanted to do was dance. But now is too late, because he is no longer your man. 

*. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ  * . : ｡ ✿ *

His hands skillfully played the piano in front of him, knocking out the keys with softness immersed in the musical notes he was reading calmly. Semi had composed the song and was still missing the lyrics. Both of them were sure that they had to find a contrast between the sadness and the passion of abandonment. That was his project. Ushijima was convinced that he would find the inspiration to write it and then sing it.

He always finds something to inspire himself.

He hummed to the rhythm of the song, his voice hoarse invading the small space of his study. He closed his eyes lightly, barely reading the notes written on the bond paper in front of him. "My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways" he stopped immediately, grabbing a pen and his notebook, writing the first line that had occurred to him all afternoon.

It was difficult, he wasn't going to deny it. Being an artist, a public figure. His private life and relationships were exposed; it was not as if it affected him, the pain was accompanied by fame. Resignations went hand in hand with money and criticism was the dessert of talent. In any case, he could not complain or regret the path he had chosen: his songs were always within the top 3 hits of Japan, every time.

He had met many people throughout his life; critics, singers, composers, musicians. He had also met friends, acquaintances, enemies, competition and one-night lovers. The last ones always stayed in that: in one night. Or morning. Or evening. It depended on whether he was on tour or not, if he was tired or not. If he was feeling touch starved or not.

The loneliness of his life was a plus for the lyrics of his songs; Which was also a disadvantage. The public liked to hear the suffering, the sadness, the regret; they loved to see the tears of pain in the singers' eyes, they were excited to hear them with a broken voice halfway through the concerts, it made them burst with emotion to see them ask for forgiveness, ashamed of feeling emotions. Ashamed of being human.

The public, the market, the producers: they were all the same. They all sought to try to unmask and mix the personal with the work. Everyone sought to find those precious jewels in the artists' lives, which were neither gold nor diamond.

It was the heart.

Ushiwaka, as he was known, had not yet been exposed. His cold and dense attitude in front of the camera and his fans was captivating and sickly. Not in his music videos, not in his interviews, not at charity events. There was nothing that could get through those barriers that he had built. The industry was difficult, it was harsh, it hurt and, even in certain cases, it killed members of itself.

But he was different, because the industry was not what motivated him.

It was you.

"Ushi" blinked lightly upon hearing your voice. Usually you didn't interrupt him when he was working, or when he was thinking, or at any time "Can we talk?"

Your voice was sweet and smooth. It reminded him of his voice when he was just a child; his father had told him that at some point he would change and that he had to value the gift he had. He had to make it flourish. And he made it flourish, among other things. He also made the songs he had written with his lips to your skin flourish, and also made your feelings for his person and not for her public figure flourish.

Your voice was so beautiful and sweet, it surprised him that you weren't a singer. Truth be told, your connection to the world of music was him. And your work, which had stopped being very recurring when you decided to have a hidden relationship with him. Only a few friends, his manager and his father knew about your relationship with him. And, in the category of ‘a few friends’, only Tendou and Semi entered.

"I'm in the middle of a song, baby," he replied simply, looking at you.

Baby. That had been his pet name for you; just for you. That's what he called you when he wanted to kiss you, or when he wanted to hold you in his arms. His baby. His queen. His owner. You were his mantra, you were his promise, his oath. His inspiration.

You were everything he loved, even though he had a hard time showing it, saying it, but never thinking or feeling it. You were the only light within that hell in which he worked, his inspiration, his muse. His songs, his words, his emotion bathed in promises.

You were the love of his life.

"Uh, yeah. I was thinking…” You looked away for a few seconds, the atmosphere of the studio seemed to hang by a small thread, staggering between pain and indifference “I really need to talk to you”

“Right now, I can't, baby. Later"

His eyes snap back to the notes Semi had made. In his notebook he writes a draft that he surely would not use later.

Music was his passion, his dream, his talent. It consumed so much effort, desire, emotion. It sucked his soul to his barely core until he spent hours and hours looking at a notebook with nothing written inside it; It ruined the dates he had with you, canceled the small displays of affection that were prepared for the strands of your hair nor for your pink lips.

The music was so beautiful, but it was a curse. The cross with which he would carry all his life, the reason for the vast majority of regrets that would come after that conversation.

"I want to break up with you, Wakatoshi"

Your words are poisons, an excessive mission. It takes his breath away, little by little by little. His eyes widened immediately, slowly. The blood inside his body turns and stops running, his heart beats slowly, but aggressively.

It is the same sentence that materializes it. He becomes a piece of glass, the same object that seems to burst - metaphorically - against some wall.

"What?"

He needed to be sure of what you said.

He needs it not to be true.

He needs to know that it was a joke. One way to make him pay for his negligence towards you.

"I don't think we're working," you go on, looking at him with a sad sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t think we have worked in months… I know you don’t love me anymore, though” his love for you grew and grow every day. It was so big and caring that it was impossible to write about it, but what it would have been of him without you "And ..., and ..." It seems that you are about to cry, your sweet voice breaks in the silence of the room "And I have fallen in love with someone else during our relationship”

These are words that are buried in his head. They consume him. His instinct prevents him from crying, or yelling at you, or insulting you. His instinct tells him that he must control himself, that, above all, he loves you. He loves you so much that he knows he was not the one.

Not the best.

Not the most loving, nor caring.

Not the one who would marry you.

Not the one who would wake up next to you for the rest of his life.

Not the one who would have children with you.

Not the one who would protect you.

Not the one you love.

“I understand" and he does. He would also hate himself; he was sure you hated him "Can I ask you a question, at least?"

His voice seems to fight the urge to stop. The curiosity is killing him, strangling his hopes, his eyes, his heart.

“Yeah…”

“Is he better than me?” he needed to know. He needed to.

Falling in love was not part of the plan, falling in love was not part of his dream. A dream that was neither written nor intended to be. Love was as misleading as the facets he showed to his fans, love was a lie, torture.

Loving you, hurt.

"He is loving" was the only thing you could answer him. He noticed that your voice sounded sore "It's different, Ushi" you added, covering your face "I'm sorry"

"Okay" he managed to be able to articulate his words "If you want I can pack my things, I'll call the moving agency" it was stupid to think of you when he should be selfish; fight for your love, show you that he was the one.

"I don't want to stay here, Ushi. I am sorry, I am truly sorry"

Your words break his heart a little more. "Okay, do you want me to help you pack?"

"I already did it, I have everything in my car already"

His lips open in a small "o" but cannot make any sound. He looked away immediately "I understand" as he blinked several times, feeling his eyelashes moisten "Sorry, for not making you feel loved"

He doesn't want his words to hurt you, but they hurt you. It hurts to hear them and it hurts more to say them. There is nothing after that, just the footsteps of the love of her life walking away.

When he hears your car's engine start, his elbows collide with the piano keys; for the first time in a long-time, he allows himself to cry, he just breaks that rule. Not exaggeratedly, not as he would like. The miscellaneous sound of the instrument makes him lose his patience, and makes him feel guilty. Droplets of salt water run down his cheeks, hit the object's white keys, and stay there.

❥•°❀°•༢

They remain there for two years.

He didn't know how he survived in such a big bed. But he knew he avoided it at all costs, he slept in the study, on the sofa, on the floor, in Tendou's house, in Semi's apartment. He slept everywhere, but still did not recover sleep.

He convinced himself to wish you the best even when you cut all your connections to him. You changed your phone number, closed all your social networks - you actually blocked him, but he did not want to accept it - and you disappeared from his life. Like ashes in the wind. You slid down his fingers, too fine and small for his pain-filled world.

You deserved better than him.

You always had.

If he were a workaholic before, now he wouldn't stop working. He made sad, monotonous songs. Never talking about love, actually. Well yes, but in metaphors. He talked about plucking flowers, how to destroy rose bushes, how to ruin the most beautiful garden.

How to get away from his life.

It is very pathetic, to tell the truth. For being a musician, his apartment remains silent for most of the day. Being famous he hides from the cameras more than before. Being Ushiwaka, it is easily destroyed by your memories.

It is killing him.

"You can erase the lyrics, but not the memories," he says to himself, reading the new draft he wrote. "It takes courage, but not money-

You are taking my life away from myself.

My heart thumps thinking of you.

I sowed spite in my eyes for you,

My lips keep remembering your petals,

I lost the stems of your fingers,

The feeling of your words over my temple,

I lost every single day, night, dance,

I lost you-”

"Hey, I just came to check how you are" the voice of Semi suddenly interrupts him, hoarse voice fill with patience “You haven’t answer my messages and Tendou is kind of worried, since he is on tour and everything” his eyes traces a silent whimper all over Ushijima’s figure. 

“I forgot to charge my phone” he responds; a lie,of course, his phone reminded a few centimeters away from his hand, in a particular way suspended over the wood table, recording.

“Ah… I understand. You want to, you know…, hang out?” 

If he wasn’t famous or heartbroken, he would have said yes. 

If he wasn’t overwhelmed by an old love, he would have said yes.

If you weren’t in any picture of him so near of his memories, he would have said yes.

“I am working on my new album” 

Those words are enough to push Eita away. He doesn’t mean to just..., stop. But knowing Wakatoshi’s ego and pride, it didn’t matter how much he wanted to help his friend. There was always going to be a barrier between them. He was just a swan, Wakatoshi fly higher than him, anyway...

He could see everything but never himself, “Ah” he replies, ruffling his dyed hair, “Then, I’ll be in the kitchen making some curry”

“Yeah”

Ushijima slowly reaches for his friend’s hand before he could leave. A cold and familiar sensation creeping on his torso, “Semi,” he mutters, eyes flickering on his grip, “can you promise me something?”

Seeing the great Ushiwaka stumble and fall wasn’t something that the public eye nor a lot of people in the industry will ever see. He was hard as the diamond..., but diamonds are easy to break when you hit them at certain angles; his weakest spot was his heart, that he resguard in an ice cage until her warmth arms came and melt his fortier down..., until her lips brought him sweet, innocent love..., until his body, voice, life, self was completely of hers.

Just to steal it and leave him with nothing.

“Of course, Waka”

“Don’t say a word to anyone else” he states under his breath, “Promise it to me”

Semi shifts on his spot, squeezing his hand, trying to convince him, “Sure”

Without any other word, Semi leaves him in the freezing lost feeling. 

｡･:*˚:✧｡ C h e e s e  c u l t : @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez  @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei​ @pineapplekween​ @estherwritess​ @keiji-n​ @achoohq​ @badlywritten-hq​ @mochibeaa​ @oinkanna​ @chxrry-wxne​ @spudicide​ @airybby​ @asranomical​ @karmasuna​

｡･:*˚:✧｡ G e n e r a l  m a s t e r l i s t: @trashys-things​ @softforshigi​ @groundzeroagency​ @edensxgarden​ @pm4gal​  @yams046​ @thatfanfictionwriter

#ushiwaka x reader #ushijima #ushiwaka #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima fluff #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushi #ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi x yn #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi #wakatoshi x you #hq x reader #haikyuu creations #hq wakatoshi #wakatoshi imagine #wakatoshi fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #bubbleteaa #cheese cult #cheese cult<3 #cheese cult🧀 #tookme3years #oh man #ushijima headcanons #ushijima x reader #haikyuu

[7grandmel]

Blog Update - 02/04/2024

TL;DR: We have a new blog banner. Happy Birthday, Osana Najimi!!

Whew!! Now with the Raftmageddon WHOLLY over with, and today's huge post also done - It's time to return back to regular programming. I hope you enjoyed both!! And by the way, you can find the Raftmageddon profile picture in Raft Ride ~ The Story So Far, and the header was just the unedited Links Awakening thumbnail.

But as part of returning to regular programming, I had to change the blog's profile picture and banner back to normal...until I realized, well, dang - I haven't exactly ever, had an original banner for the blog!! I set it to The Voice's tower from the CCC to match the CCC's return in December (and to match with the Voice-ified Najimi), but I've long wanted something more...identifiable to the blog. Well, the recent April Fools community post gave me the perfect idea on what to do: It just felt like the perfect fit in using for this blog, building on SiIva's original with my own spin and take on things.

Tadaa!!

In the place of Weezer's lead singer-songwriter stands Osana Najimi - the character used across all of my other blogs on Tumblr and just generally my favorite little creature of all time. Apologies for not introducing you to them earlier, but if I were to have any sort of "brand", it would (regrettably) be an anime character. Tumblr and Joke-Explainer are pretty self explanatory as, yknow, the two things that gave this blog form! But I chose Antonymh Noelle in particular due to my still-lingering emotional attachment to SING A SONG ABOUT HOPES AND DREAMS. The post I wrote for that rip was sort of when I decided full-stop that I wanted to commit to this silly blog idea - and hey, it even directly mentions Tumblr in the lyrics, and Girelle is still one of the top-ever-reblogged SiIvaGunner posts on here!! It just makes all too much sense.

Osana Najimi's birthday was also just yesterday on April 1st, which I understandably couldn't quite celebrate properly due to some, yknow - circumstances. But I'm doing it right today - Najimi, you're now officially a core pillar of this silly SiIvaGunner Tumblr Blog! Happy birthday!!!

...man, I really ought to give this blog a better name, huh?

#siivagunner #siiva #updates

[intrepidacious]

hi! ok I just wanted to ask someone who knows how tumblr works haha

so I found someone who writes amazing content so I decided to follow them. I binged lots of their fics earlier today and when I checked their profile again later, their profile doesn’t show. It seems they might have blocked me and I don’t know why :( I commented that I loved their fics and the comments are removed. my profile has my age and I am decently active on reposting & commenting on fics. This happened to me one other time too so I just am confused I guess :( I tried to message them but it said it wouldn’t go through so that makes me think I’m blocked? I guess I don’t know why a couple people blocked me? Just kinda made me sad bc I really enjoy their work but now I won’t be able to see anymore ☹️😢

happy to!! 💛

first thing you gotta remember that in all likelihood, your getting blocked is nothing personal. reasons for blocking someone on tumblr include but aren't limited to:

you don't have your age (range) listed in your bio/clearly visible on your blog

the age you have listed doesn't adhere to boundaries a blog has set (f.e. you're a minor, or it only says "18+" which i know many writers don't accept)

your blog is completely empty i.e. you don't post/reblog stuff

you don't reblog other people's writing

you spam like posts

you've never changed the default icon/header to something else

people don't vibe with the things you reblog

your theme is a colour they don't like

a lot of the time, it comes down to everyone's preferences. god knows i've been blocked by people and didn't understand why, but frankly it's none of my business. most likely, you won't ever find out, either. everyone is creating their own online space, and sometimes that means having a quick blocking finger. i'm sorry that you won't be able to read those stories anymore but you have to accept creators' boundaries.

however, there are some things you can do and try to prevent getting blocked in the future. these are only a couple of suggestions around tumblr etiquette i've picked up on over the years; if anyone else wants to chip in here, please do!!

1. make sure your blog is, by all appearances, that of a human being

this might sound stupid because of course, you are a human, but with the recent bot wars it's all the more important to double check for red flags.

check your url. does it include a random string of numbers, lots of dashes, just a name and an adjective? all of these have been indicative of porn bots and people might block you on sight.

change your icon and your header. yes, both of them. there are lots of creators on here who make wonderful fandom related headers and icons, or you can create your own with canva. just be sure to follow creators' rules and preferably reblog their creation

change your blog title. if your account is new, it will just say "untitled", which is another indication you might not be a human. use quotes, song lyrics, anything you enjoy

add a bio. this is where you put your name or nickname (you can make one up) age, age range, links to second blogs (if applicable), more quotes, whatever. i prefer my bio short and to the point, but that doesn't have to be you.

important: do this for all blogs and side blogs you use regularly. if you have a second blog for reblogging fics, you need to put up your age there as well, or at least visibly link to your main blog so creators can see you're not a minor. the harder it is to verify that you're an adult, the more likely it is that you will get blocked

2. know the different kinds of interactions on tumblr and navigate them well

there's a difference between liking, commenting, reblogging, and reposting, and it's important. lots of people use reblogging and reposting interchangeably, but that's actually incorrect and can lead to serious mishaps. let's dissect them one by one.

liking.

you're familiar with the like from other social media platforms. you tap a post twice or hit the little heart at the bottom of the post and it's added to your likes. wonderful, right? well. tumblr is a little different.

tumblr doesn't have an algorithm. let me say that again. there is no algorithm on tumblr. i guess there is, on the for you page, but that doesn't count because it's really shit. the only important thing on tumblr is your dashboard, and your dashboard only shows original posts and the reblogs of those posts from people you follow.

no one cares about your likes. your likes don't do shit. that's why creatives on here keep talking about reblogs. you need to reblog things on tumblr in order for them to get seen. it's a snowballing effect. likes are nice and all, but they're private. they're not contributing to a story or an artwork being seen by more people. they're essentially empty interaction. what's more, should a post get deleted for whatever reason, that post is gone for you forever.

i know some people use their likes as bookmarks for things they want to look at later, but i would strongly urge you not to do that. people block serial likers, because most of the time it is, sadly, very unlikely that they will come back and actually interact with the post again. that's just the way it is. we can thank tiktok and instagram for that. again, tumblr doesn't have an algorithm. if you want to genuinely support and encourage people on here, you need to do more than liking.

commenting.

this is a step up from liking, because you're actually interacting now. a comment will show up in the activity of the person whose post you left it on and of the original poster (op)—more on that distinction in a minute. comments are encouraged especially on ask/answer type posts, or as a reply to an earlier reblog.

when it comes to fanfic, there are, again, pros and cons. you can only leave a comment from your main blog, which means that even if you have a second account where you reblog fics, there's not necessarily a link between the two. this can lead to your getting blocked if you've never reblogged a fic to your main blog. on the other hand, if people comment on your fic without reblogging it, but they do reblog other people's fics, that can also rub creators the wrong way because it creates a strange sort of hierarchy: why those fics? why not mine?

important thing to note: i am not saying that to make anyone feel bad about "just" commenting, i just want you to be aware that this might go on in a creator's head. it has in mine. i'm very aware that this is a me problem, but it's also a reason why people might get blocked out of the blue, which is why i wanted to bring it up.

reblogging.

ah yes, reblogging. reblogging is the thing that makes tumblr tumblr, and it's so easy to do. you just hit the little 🔁 symbol at the bottom of the post, and boom, it's reblogged to your own blog. everyone who follows you can now see it on their dashboard, and if they reblog it, their followers can see it, and so on and so forth. every time someone reblogs a post from you, you will get a notification in your activity, and so will the op.

reblogs are the heart and soul of tumblr. yes, original posts are (usually) individual creations, but the community aspect of this site is born through the reblog. there are different variations on how to reblog. all are valid, because all help spreading posts around.

the empty reblog is the quickest option. there's literally a quick reblog option on mobile: if you hold your finger on the reblog button for a second or so, you will see your icon appear. if you swipe in that direction, the post gets immediately reblogged to your blog. something similar can be done on desktop with the xkit browser extension. it's fast, it's easy, it gets the job done. it's perfect for when you like a post but don't have anything specific to say/reply.

the reblog with tags is the second fastest option. tags, on tumblr, are sort of the sotto voce version of comments. yes, you can use tagging to organise your blog and make your posts easily findable (is that a word?) but the real fun begins when little asides are added. you can keysmash in the tags. you can put your thoughts in the tags. you can go full caps without it looking overwhelming in the actual post. if you're just starting to comment on things, the tags are a great place to start, because the actual post will keep looking the same; the tags are just a little additional bonus for both you and the creator. this is what you would use for the majority of posts that aren't works of art in any way, too, like text posts you want to find again, polls, photographs etc.

the reblog with additions though? oh boy. that's the real stuff. imagine it as clipping on your thoughts to the post, right there for everyone to see. you can add gifs, and memes, and change the font, and change the colour, and scream, and keysmash, and ramble without limitations. it's like catnip for the op. if you reblog a fic, a moodboard, a piece of art, a gifset, whatever it is, and you put your thoughts underneath? man, it's amazing.

side note: if you're new to commenting on people's fics and you don't know what to say, i highly recommend referring to this post. (btw i linked my reblog so it can act as an example of the different forms of adding to a post: there were other reblogs before mine, and i've added tags. useful in its content and as an example!!)

reposting.

this is where we need to be careful. reblogs are great. reposts are theft. where's the difference? reposting refers to you copying another creator's work, whatever it may be, and creating a new post without any indication to the original person's efforts. even if you do include their url, you will most likely get reported and blocked. because now, you've become the op of this copied post, and the actual creator will get absolutely nothing.

you will most likely have seen banners in fic communities that state something along the lines of "don't copy or translate any of my work to this or any other site". that's what this refers to. this would also include the following:

posting another writer's story to ao3/wattpad/another fic site of your choice without their permission. you can absolutely never do this. "but what if"—NO. never. fullstop.

some creators allow translations of their work, but you can only ever share those with their explicit permission and proper credit.

saving a gif to use without linking back to the artist. this is maybe my biggest gripe. yes, i know this site sucks at making gifs searchable, but still, you can't do this. and no, "credit goes to the original artist" doesn't count, where did that bullshit even come from? it makes me so mad. that's not giving credit, that's being lazy.

3. be nice, and have fun

this is fandom, and it's supposed to be a hobby. this is supposed to be a good time. none of us are getting paid for any of this. yes, we're all passionate about what we do, whether we're looking at other people's creations or we make them ourselves. we're fans of that common thing, and isn't that great?

just a little more internet etiquette that's not really tumblr specific but could be a good reminder for everyone:

not everything is for you, and that's okay

if something's not for you, scroll away

if you don't like what someone is posting, ignore them. mute them. block them.

do not ever, and i mean ever, send anyone hate. you don't know who's on the other side of the screen. block them and move on. life's too fucking short.

don't correct people's grammar/spelling. only assholes do that. if you can't help yourself and they're a person you've interacted with before, shoot them a private message and be nice about it.

don't offer unsolicited advice. i don't care if you want to give constructive criticism to help the other person. unless they've explicitly asked you to do that, don't. you'll get blocked so quick, and you'll ruin someone's day.

if you're reading a fic that's not finished yet, don't ask for an update. yes, you're excited for the story to continue. but "part 2", "when's the next chapter out", "more please" and so on are all things that put pressure on creators whether that's your intention or not. it gives us the impression that what we've already put out is never enough. and that sucks. by all means, be excited about what comes next, but not like this.

read!! old!! fics!!!! the beauty of tumblr being the way it is is that there's zero shame in interacting with older posts. it's not like you're liking a seven year old post on instagram. in fact, if you're commenting on a seven year old fic/gifset/moodboard/artwork on tumblr, i can guarantee you're gonna make that creator's day.

i'm absolutely positive that i've forgotten something in this post even though it's longer than several of my wips, so if any of my moots want to add something that'd be great!! in fact i'm gonna tag some of you because you know what? if you've read all of this you deserve a kiss. have a wonderful day 💛

@marvelettesassemblenow @barnesafterglow @imaginearyparties @aphrogeneias @brandycranby @writing-for-marvel @foreverindreamlandd @sanguineterrain @demxters @wildlivelychild

#inbox

[millyhelp]

hi millyyy its meeee, i've come to ask you to share 5 songs you like! whether all time or recent. bc YOU, one of my mutuals, was in my inbox asking me the same thing and to forward it to mutuals who i think have good taste in music!

so here is me asking you, a mutual who i think has good taste in music

HELLOOO AND THANK UUU

I'm so happy to know that you trust my musical taste 😭🫰🏻

I'm going to post my latest obsessions here and I promise they're great!

Death peace of mind by Bad omens

First one! I love this one sm!!

I swear this one is great! Noah (vocalist)'s voice sounds like the voice of an angel.

I love almost all bad omens songs. I highly recommend this band. Noah's voice is so good 😭🫰🏻

the deep and engaging lyrics along with the rhythm. Hmmm I love it. (I love this song so much that it's in my header.)

I could say about Just intend too. But this one is my favorite next to Nowhere to go.

Can't catch me now by Olivia Rodrigo

I'm very much here too! This one is in second place!

I feel like I'm in the middle of a forest when I listen to this song. I would love to be able to live in the middle of the woods while hunting to survive. I'm delulu with this one.

Matilda by Harry Styles

This one makes me cry.

I identify so much with these lyrics and I imagine they refer to me. Its is so deep and I truly love it. This has pure beauty.

and yes, I'm a fan of Harry Styles (I'm a fan of 1D btw.)

Unforgettable by French Montana (ft. Swae Lee)

This one has such a good vibe! I feel like I'm walking on the streets of NY (even though I never went, lol)

I love so much!!! Very good at pretending to be an influencer filming her rich life. Delulu again!! I feel so rich with this one. Hailey Bieber vibes!!

Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE!!! My friends know that it has been on all my playlists for as long as I can remember!!

It gives me vampire vibes (interview with a vampire by Anne Rice) and New Orleans things vibes!!! I just love it so so much!!

I feel like a beautiful woman in the 60s or 80s.

Well, and that! and please tell me what you think of these songs, I need feedback!!

#bad omens #olivia rodrigo #harry styles #french montana #swae lee #modern talking #songs #millyhelp asks~ #millyhelp besties ☆

[jishyucks]

[One for You] The distant strums of the guitar and its player’s warm, comforting voice reels you in like a siren. You feel like it’s putting you in some sort of trance and against your own will, but in all honesty, you don’t mind. Not when it’s Mark who’s playing the tune.

Your eyes fixate on one area of the wall as your ears tune themselves up to hear Mark more clearly. It’s like you’ve gained super sonic hearing, your sense breaking barriers to hear into the next room. You can’t help but imagine what it would be like for him to be serenading you with his voice.

You already know you’d melt on the spot.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?”

Blinking your eyes, your blurred vision puts Jisung into focus. He’s waving his large hand in front of your face, eyes wide and searching for any response.

“I am,” you say, “Sorry, where were we?” You turn you head back down to your notebook, seeing a spot of ink that was created when you zoned out.

“Myosin and actin,” Jisung points out. He looks over to see you blinking at your page, a smirk knowingly forming on his face, “You’re distracted by Mark again, aren’t you?”

Jisung’s fully aware of your blossoming crush on his older brother, though he doesn’t mind. He finds that you’re perfect for Mark and he knows that Mark would treat you well.

You gawk back at your best friend and throw a gentle, yet firm punch at his shoulder, “Shh be quiet! You’re too loud!”

You push your notes towards Jisung and tap the back of you’re pen on the ‘myosin’ sub-header in hopes to change the subject. But Jisung’s not that easy to distract.

“You know that song he’s singing right now?” Jisung whispers to please you, “It’s for you.”

This time, you lightly kick Jisung’s shin, “It’s not funny when you say stuff like that, you know.” You know Jisung never means to hurt you with these comments, but you’d appreciate it if he simply didn’t. You don’t want to get your hopes up.

“I’m not joking,” he deadpans. Jisung sits up from his laying-on-his-belly position and crosses his hands, “I was looking for the headphones he borrowed from me in his room and his lyric notebook was open.” This catches your attention, and you sit up just as Jisung did, “Being the youngest child I believe it was my duty to snoop and I saw those lyrics he’s singing right now.”

“I don’t understand.” You realize now that Mark’s playing has stopped, and it’s silent between you and Jisung, “Then why are you saying that the song’s for me?” There were times when you wanted to question the thoughts that ran through Jisung’s head—these were one of those times.

“That’s because…” Jisung pokes the centre of your forehead, realizing he missed the single, most utmost detail of the story.

“The title of song is Y/N.”

#mind go brrr #But best friend’s brother!Mark is a concept that’s just cute #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #mark lee #mark #mark lee imagines #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark x reader #my writings #kpop blurbs #kpop drabbles #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct dream blurbs #nct dream drabbles

[allamericansbitch]

Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (december 4 - december 12)! For info about the series, I explained it in the first post here, but generally, it’s to show appreciate to editors and their creations that i love from the past week. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts. Have a great week everyone!

wednesday: season one epiosdes gifset by @seance

taylor swift: dear reader gifset by @dearreader

f.r.i.e.n.d.s: 1x08 gifset by @birthdaysentiment

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @xiexielians​

wednesday: wednesday and enid gifset by @shegos

taylor swift: sounds of the season vinyl design by @threads-of-gold

lucy dacus: night shift graphic by @promqueendyke

wednesday: season one gifset by @vanessacarlysle

taylor swift: midnight rain x champagne problems gifset by @cametotheshowinsd

halsey: badlands soundwaves graphic by @heyanobody

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @nikolatexla​

stranger things: nancy and robin gifset by @hopemikelson

taylor swift: haunted lyric parallels gifset by @heystephcn

little women (2019) gifset by @trainstationgoodbye

stranger things: eleven and mike gifset by @stydixa

taylor swift: hands gifset by @soaheadofthecurve

wednesday icons by @petersevan

stranger things: nancy and robin gifset by @hopemikelson

taylor swift: all too well the short film gifset by @midnightsdeluxe

selena gomez: tonight show gifset by @chriswevans​

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @lemoncupcake​

studio ghibli gifset by @starsbythepcketful

taylor swift: delicate gifset by @jonismitchell

wednesday: ‘every friend group should have’ gifset by @aryastaark

stranger things: robin and nancy gifset by @nancywheelor

taylor swift: lavender haze gifset by @antoniosvivaldi

stranger things gifset by @kaliprasad

halsey: studio albums gifset by @reputation

taylor swift: all too well the short film bts gifset by @chriswevans

stranger things: nancy and robin gifset by @ririvilliams

wednesday: season one episodes gifset by @jenna--ortega

taylor swift: midnights graphic by @ca11itwhatyouwant

pride & prejudice (2005) gifset by @buffysummers

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @thatwasthenightthingschanged​

paramore: the news music video gifset by @aleagueoftheirown

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @newrcmantlcs

stranger things gifset by @worldoffeelings

taylor swift: evermore anniversary gifset by @cametotheshowinsd

succession gifset by @arthurpendragonns

wednesday: edin sinclair gifset by @este

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @usermaroon​

halsey: if i can’t have love, i want power gifset by @h-f-k

taylor swift: welcome to new york gifset by @rogerhealey

paramore: the news music video gifset by @paramored

stranger things: season four gifset by @mistletoesteve

pearl (2022) gifset by @florencipugh

taylor swift: no body no crime x dear reader parallels edit by @missegyptiana

paramore: the news art by @paralol

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @melodramas​

phoebe bridgers: smoke signals edit by @thingsmk1120sayz

succession: shiv and tom gifset by @indistinctmumblings

taylorswift: evermore + musicboard reviews gifset by @thatwasthenightthingschanged

halsey: lilith performance at the game awards gifset by @catdadeddie

best of 2022 gifset by @goncharoffs​

taylor swift: evermore anniversary gifset by @userspeaknowtv

palm springs gifset by @justaleapoffaith

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @felicitysmoak​

wednesday: official playlist gifset by @ririvilliams

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @taylorallisons

halsey: lilith gifset by @h-f-k

f.r.i.e.n.d.s: ross and rachel gifset by @buffysummers

taylor swift: birthday gifset by @rogerhealey​

taylor swift: you’re on your own kid graphic by @theman

the 1975: being funny in a foreign language gifset by @madeline-kahn

taylor swift: back to december headers by @thatwasthenightthingschanged​

taylor swift: midnights as penguin classic book covers edit by @dangerous-swift

paramore: rose-colored boy x the news music videos gifset by @userparamore​

taylor swift: lavender haze edit by @moonlithour

taylor swift: evermore art by @architectdrawingtheplans​​

#*creatorshoutouts

[little-diable]

Texas - Dean Winchester

I had to post this today, simply because I'm so so so obsessed with the header @deathofpeaceofmind created and y'all needed to see it. This is sad, but please give it a chance (I know y'all don't like reading my angsty fics). Lyrics from the song "Texas" by Jessie Murph. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: When a fling turns into something more, but life forces you to part ways.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), angst, heartbreak, crying

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

You got all the good shit, and I got consequences, I'm cold, I'm lost, I'm ruined, and you go back to Texas

The sun was drenching the sky in a deep orange, a colour so vivid, Dean wasn‘t sure if he was awake or still caught in a dream. Silence engulfed him and Sammy, only Baby‘s sounds echoed through the air, doing little to drown out the confusion ringing in his ears, the messy thoughts he couldn’t shake off. 

It hadn’t even been an hour since Dean had parted from her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, not daring to wake her as he left her apartment behind, very well knowing he won’t ever get to see her again. Her, the woman that had instantly caught his attention the second he had entered that one godforsaken bar two weeks ago. Her, the woman that had ended up in Baby‘s backseat only hours after Dean had bought her the first of many drinks to come. Her, the woman his heart had called out to, and was now mourning.

Fuck, he had been stupid, so unbelievably stupid, and yet he hadn’t been able to pull away. He should have left her that night, shouldn’t have exchanged phone numbers, but he hadn’t been able to let her go, not without knowing that he’d get to see her again soon. (Y/n) had taken his heart hostage like a wanderer getting lost in unknown territories, ending up in the grasp of their enemy. 

But fate had never been kind to Dean Winchester, he hadn't been created to live a life filled with love, no, he was following the call of death, of all things coming to an end. An end (y/n) wouldn't see for years to come.

“Dean,” Sammy spoke his brother's name, carefully – just a whisper, not daring to rip his brother out of his trance without a warning, not used to seeing his piercing green eyes filled with tears. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Dean couldn’t help but scoff, cursing his brother for asking a question this stupid. Of course it was about her, about (y/n), the woman his drunken self would probably have married if their paths had crossed in Vegas. Sammy wasn’t oblivious, he had shared a few conversations with (y/n), understanding why Dean was that intrigued by her. And yet he still found himself surprised about the way Dean was now reacting to their departure. 

(Y/n) certainly hadn’t been the first woman Dean had found himself crushing on, certainly not the first he had wanted to stick around, but something was different this time. Something so awfully heartbreaking the older Winchester brother directed all his anger towards his stupid heart. Fuck, could one even fall in love, within a few hours, days? 

You came in like a one-man show, out of town, had a couple years on me, knew that shit I didn't know, and it felt so real that I couldn't let go, while you ran me around like a motherfuckin' rodeo

While Dean was driving through blurring by towns and areas he had crossed before, (y/n) was still laying in her bed, glassy eyes directed up ahead, staring at her ceiling. Her heart was clenching in her chest, a pain so unfamiliar (y/n)’s mind began to wonder if the past two weeks had happened or if it had just been a trick of her bored brain. 

Dean Winchester had ripped her heart from her chest, linking his together with hers to form a bond that was now pushing her into soaring waves of sadness, of confusion, and of anger. It felt like those movies, the ones she'd cry about on days where everything got too much and she needed to let go of the sadness bottled up inside of her. Stupid movies that had now caught up with her. She was paying the price of a crime she hadn't committed. But perhaps it had been her fault after all, perhaps it had been her fault for falling in love with a man she barely knew. A man with eyes so green her mind took her back to her childhood days, the carefree hours where she'd get lost in meadows and forests she no longer visited.

How dare he let go, how dare he leave her behind without saying much but a halfhearted apology that now rang in her ears like a song she couldn’t stop thinking of. 

With her eyes squeezed shut, (y/n) tried to get rid of her memories, trying to forget the past two weeks that have felt all too real, so full of an emotion she had stopped believing in years ago. An unlucky try that only pushed her further into her misery. 

“Don’t you dare close your eyes, darling.” Fuck, that grin would be the death of her. Dean was hovering over her, pressing (y/n) further into the comfortable mattress of her big bed. He was nestling between her thighs, tongue running through her folds with skilled movements, very well knowing how to touch a woman. (Y/n) didn’t allow her thoughts to focus on the women he had once touched, wondering who had taught him to eat out a woman like this, rather trying to relish in the warm contact, on the orgasm that was slowly but surely coming upon her. 

“Christ, you’re too good at this.” Her voice trembled, eyes struggling to stay open, focused on his handsome features, on the freckles lingering on his skin like star formations filling the night sky. A view so breathtakingly beautiful one couldn’t help but marvel at it. 

One of his hands found hers, interlacing their fingers to hold onto her as (y/n) let go, back arched off her mattress, toes curled. An intense sensation swapped through her, filling every pore of her trembling body, making her choke on her cries as if this was the first time she ever got to experience something like this. 

Her heart was roaring in her chest, a sound so unfamiliar (y/n)’s mind wondered if she was still caught in her own body. But Dean didn’t give her any time to ponder over her thoughts, crawling up her body with a smirk growing on his lips, kissing her before another breath could be inhaled into her aching lungs. She could taste herself on his tongue, once again reminded of their closeness, of the bond (y/n) found herself clinging to, praying that Dean wouldn’t ever leave her again. 

“Ready for another round?” 

A cry wrecked through her, hands holding her face, trying to dry the tears that wouldn’t stop rolling. The pain that stuck to her was too much for her body, not knowing how to get rid of it, how to let go of the waves that tried to pull her under, drowning the helpless woman. Fuck, Dean Winchester had broken her heart, without even giving her one good explanation. 

You go back to Texas like it didn't happen, like I'm not here with all of this mess, and you drunk and out and you wildin' out

“Does she know?” Once again did Sammy’s voice break the silence, not used to sitting in Baby without any music rumbling through the speakers. Dean’s eyes hadn’t left the road once, not looking at his younger brother once – no matter how much Sammy moved in his seat, trying to catch his brother’s gaze. 

“No.” It was one simple word. A word that pieced together the puzzle, finally falling into place, though so suddenly, without another warning. Deep down Sammy had hoped that Dean had explained their profession to (y/n), something that would tie the two together, giving them a reason to cross paths again. 

“But why? She would have understood. What did you say to her?” Pain. An emotion so blinding began to fill Dean’s system, forcing the memory of yesterday evening to resurface. 

“What do you mean by one last time?” (Y/n) was placed in Dean’s lap, naked body pressed against his. The two had shared a kiss that had left them breathless seconds ago, a sensation that had been interrupted by Dean’s words, forcing (y/n) to halt in her movements. 

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, Sammy and I.” She froze, trying to search his eyes – without any luck. Dean had his green eyes focused on her hands, fumbling with the fingers that had touched every inch of his body in the past days. He didn’t dare meet her gaze, very well aware of the pain that was now swimming in her pupils, the same emotion he tried to swallow down. An unlucky try that left him choking on the breaths trying to suffocate him.

“What? Don’t fuck with me, Dean.” She let go of him, crawling from his lap to reach for her oversized shirt, suddenly feeling the urge to hide herself from his eyes. It took him another breath to reply, trying to sort through his thoughts. 

“We got another job offer we had to take, I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in her eyes, raising her hands to momentarily cover her face and the expression of pain tugging on her features. An uncomfortable silence began to fill her bedroom, the room that had been filled with sounds of pleasure just minutes ago. 

“I, uhm, I need a few moments.” Her quivering limbs did little to support her, guiding (y/n) out of her bedroom, away from Dean and the tears welling up in his eyes only just now. 

“There’s nothing to understand, Sam. Our lives aren’t made for relationships, I’d rather have her hate me than end up hurt because of this fucking shitshow we are damned with.” Dean’s voice had a dangerous growl to it, trying to stop the conversation before he’d start overthinking once again. He had made his peace, even though he wasn’t able to swallow down his pain rising in his throat like bile. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I really am.” 

“Will you stay for a bit longer?” Her whispers reverberated through the quiet bedroom, head placed on his chest, getting lost in the uneven beats of his heart. His big hand stroked her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

“Of course.” Dean had a hard time speaking up, trying not to choke on the sadness he was overwhelmed with. Both knew that he’d leave in a few hours, forcing (y/n) to wake in an empty bed, hand searching for the warm body she’d never forget. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Both knew that she wasn’t just thanking him for sticking around for a few hours longer. Both knew that she was thanking him for the love he had elicited deep inside of her. Both knew that she was thanking him for the time he had spent with her, momentarily making her forget about the struggles both were stuck in. 

“I’d do it all over again.” 

You got all the good shit, and I got consequences, I'm cold, I'm lost, I'm ruined, and you go back to Texas

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader

[rustedhearts]

hello rolly, i hope u are well and i know you finished an essay so congrats for that! small pebbles build the mountain and all that! This q isn't really about ur fics so if it's too hefty or ur not interested, no worries!

for your divider q: here's the google image link if u want to cite the headers or see more options: https://www.freepik.com/premium-vector/hand-drawn-ornamental-winter-dividers-snowflakes-borders-christmas-holiday-decor-floral-ornate-dividers_10546712.htm

I saw you say you wrote a summary essay for Yusef Komunyakaa's " Nude Interrogation". I don't want to make you repeat your essay or anything like that, i know as much as anyone how side hobbies like blogs exist to take ur mind off school/work/life, so again, pls feel free to ignore if ur not into it! I just wanted to say that I thought it was really interesting that you chose that poem, not only because it's a very good poem obviously, but also because it seems to be a really good example of inspiration for your kind of writing. Obviously the subject matter is wildly different, but both ur writing, and this poem in particular, do a lot of poetry in prose rather than like lyrical, and the immense dedication to detail in the setting itself is what gives the emotional resonance of the story is a common feature. Again, it's not an exact match and I don't want to make any claims on your inspo or anything, it's just a feature i noticed when u brought the poem up and i thought back to when i read it for a class a couple semesters ago.

If you don't mind me sharing, i really like the last line of the poem. as i'm sure you already know, the narrator "undressing" by telling the truth about his actions in Vietnam and the kind of "necessary" cruelty demanded by war after Angelica has taken her clothes off and bared her own vulnerability is so subtle but still so well done, and it always makes me think about how much it takes to tell people about your mistakes, your flaws, the things you regret, yet how much those things do ultimately need to be shared, even just to take some weight off your shoulders, or to connect and be honest with the angelic girl in your bed. But it doesn't make it any less horribly hard, and saying it in the dark, after she's turned off the blacklight, when you can't see the shock on their face, is probably the only bearable way to do it! I'm sure you have much more interesting things to say about the poem but i really, really wanted to share my half baked thoughts on it, so thank you for listening to my small soapbox. My favourite poem by his is probably "Kindness" though (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/41786/kindness-56d22013a8d03). A good reminder of its utmost necessity, especially when we seem bent on taking cruel actions in a cruel world.

it's funny you say that about "nude interrogation," because actually it's closely related to my novel, which deals with the Vietnam War in certain aspects! it's the exact reason I chose this particular poem to write about. I wasn't a huge fan of Thieves of Paradise overall (I detest unnecessary obscurement and "the profound" for the sake of being profound) but I really enjoyed this poem.

I enjoyed few other poems from that collection, but can admit Komunyakaa is a talented poet!

my essay also discussed whether the italicized "dialogue" from Angelica were actualized or fictionalized words. I think they're a byproduct of the speaker's paranoia.

it's fun to talk academia sometimes! I need to remind everyone that I'm an academic scholar and not just a lil pink fairy writing fanfic about hot, angry men lolllll

#rolly! #asks

[waspcup]

YEEHAW for the ask game‼️‼️ what is your favorite poem/lyric and why?

hmmm. extremely hard question Well i am very fond of the lyric "shes gotta lotta legs / just like a centipede!" as seen in my blog header from several iterations of everybody hates the eagles by my chemical romance. i think it's a very good sequence of words and i enjoy saying it to myself/listening to it being played. also a big fan of "i'm a sex machine, ready to reload / like an atom bomb / i'm gonna oh, oh, oh, oh oh explode!" from don't stop me now by queen because it makes me happy and energizes me. aside from those which were the first ones that came to mind theres a lot of lyrics i like - mcr and nine inch nails and system of a down all have a lot of lyrics i like a lot but tbh i don't listen to music for the lyrics really so i only catch on to specific lyrics i like if ive listened to the song a ton or if the vocals are very clear and enunciated and on the slower side

theres also a lot of lyrics that i think are just straight fun to say for example "i bark / he bites back / a jaw like a fuck-off bear trap" or "a dulcet man / with a dulcet tone / from a dulcet town / in a dulcet home" both from never fight a man with a perm by IDLES. that whole song has a lot of fun to say lyrics tbh. and then theres lyrics that i just think are fun/funny - "eating seeds as a pastime activity" from toxicity by soad, "we used to be very tall buildings" from war all the time by thursday, "drugs, suck it up, like vanilla icies / don't treat me rough, treat me really niceyss" from cola by lana del ray, and "world trade! / second plane! / what else do we have to say!" from fall out boy's cover of we didn't start the fire.

OH also the entire third verse from yoshi's island by glass beach ("theyll make it so dangerous / when they leave no room to breathe in the space they carved out for us / when they get inside your head, leave you white lies and black eyes / when they try to change your shape until your sense of self dies / but you make me feel like i'm out of my body / we ran out of words to say we're hopelessly lonely / so don't leave the city, please don't leave the covers too / stay right here babe, let's live life like lovers do'') because i really like the way she sings it and it makes me happy. honestly glass beach also has a lot of really good lyrics!

and well for poems i really like hope is the thing with feathers by emily dickinson it was my favorite poem as a kid and i can still recite it from memory. i just think it's a really nice poem and i like saying it out loud to myself. i like emily dickinson's poetry in general too! there's definitely other poems i enjoy but i'm blanking right now. i need to read more poetry to be honest

#sorry this got Really long lmao #wasp answers #ask game