#idk what to tag this as but please check the playlist out!!

[sealpup9]

I'm not certain as to how many people checked the description of the new hbomberguy video but he linked a playlist to queer creators on youtube!

Your New Favorite YouTubers - Queer YouTubers you should check out, meticulously compiled by Kat.

It's worth a look! Please don't forget to support your fellow queer creators on YouTube whilst spreading memes and jokes about James Somerton and discussing the hbomberguy video!!

EDIT: @cursedgamerchild pointed out THIS REDDIT THREAD made by Kat

Which is a thread to share more discoveries of plagiarism and also to share more queer creators who could use some love! There's also a link to a google form if you don't have reddit and want to share said information.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #plagiarism #idk what to tag this as but please check the playlist out!! #I can attest to some of the creators on there already they're fantastic! #Plagiarism and You(Tube) #I did not make this playlist #this is something he linked and i know a lot of people are memeing right now and that's great #i just don't want the point of the video to be lost on tungle

[yeahxsurexokay13]

forget about us - mason mount

summary: yn and mason have been broken up for 5 months and both have apparently moved on from each other but then yn's unexpected new single happens

warnings: the song mentioned is 'forget about us' by perrie because i have been obsessed with it ever since it came out !!!! but for the sake of the smau i have decided to completely ignore the parts where she talks about not wanting to go back to where they were lol

y/n.y/l

Liked by taylorswift and 1.075.733 others

y/n.y/l well, here's the truth of it

view all 3.130 comments

fan1 spill the tea bestie we're all ears ☕☕☕👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

fan2 we're getting nEW MUSIC EVERYBODY

jackgrealish Reckon this one will make the pre match playlist?

y/n.y/l we'll have to see if it passes the vibes check 🥸

fan6 so it's a break up song 🥲 confirmed.

fan3 are these lyrics? 👀

user1 looks like we're about to get the inside scoop on the breakup

fan4 don't bother zooming in on slide 3 it doesn't work

jobebellingham 👩🏽‍🍳

y/n.y/l 🤫

fan7 WHAT DOES HE KNOW

fan8 not jude's brother commenting.........

selenagomez Love seeing you in your element 🫶 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 Here come the tissues 🤧🤧

y/n.y/l

Liked by perrieedwards and 1.790.201 others

y/n.y/l big thanks to @/edsheeran for helping me put my heart into words and to the amazing @/allieavital for directing this mv with such brilliance and kindness.

'forget about us' song and mv are yours at midnight!!! 🌃

view all 3.802 comments

fan1 aaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ASFJK

niallhoran YES! Been hyped for this release. Let's goooo!

y/n.y/l thank you! this means so much coming from you!!! x

fan2 i've been trying to make out what the song might be about by this 5 second video and it's safe to say i have nothing

fan3 like wth is she supposed to be seeing on those tvs?

fan4 CAN MIDNIGHT HURRY UP PLZ AND THANK YOU

edsheeran It was an honour to work on this with you. Can't wait for everyone to hear it 🙌 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 can't wait to watch and listen 💖

fan6 already preparing myself emotionally for this song bc if it's about Mason idk if i'll survive 😭😭😭

fan7 yn's music always hits differently when it's inspired by real life experiences 😮‍💨

y/n.y/l

Liked by masonmount and 1.507.893 others

y/n.y/l fuk sad feelings

tagged: madelyncline

view all 3.410 commets

fan1 a negroni… sbagliato… with prosecco in it

y/n.y/l oh stunning

fan2 MASON IS BACK IN THE LIKES EVERYBODY MOVE

fan4 what if he heard the song?

fan2 he DEFINITELY heard the song lol

madelyncline Did you know i am obsessed with you?

y/n.y/l giggling and kicking my feet i love u bb

fan3 I spy with my little eye... Mason in Y/n's likes 🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢

fan5 this has me imagining all sorts of scenarios please let this mean something

fan6 my babies @.y/n.y/l @/madelyncline 😍❤️

fan7 UR SO PRETTY WTH

y/n.y/l

📍 portsmouth

Liked by sophiaaemelia and 2.390.276 others

y/n.y/l writing about how much i want one direction to get back together next

view all 4.376 comments

fan1 AS SOON AS I SAW THE LOCATION I KNEW OMFG

fan2 my heart is so happy 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user1 You and Mason are too cute! But seriously, we need that One Direction reunion song.

declanrice ❤️

fan6 "but when I hear your name, it's still so raw. do you ever feel the same way too?" looks like he did!!!

fan3 okay this wins for the most creative way of saying 'we're back together' lol so happy for you two 💕💕

user2 i'd stream that song on repeat until it happens

fan4 mum and dad arE BACK TOGETHER YAY

fan5 if your song works, I'll be forever indebted to you!!!

user3 been rooting for you two since day one!! so happy to see you back together 🥰

masonmount Your biggest fan forever ❤️

y/n.y/l my number 7 ♥️

#singer!reader #social media au #football smau #mason mount smau #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ '𝐓𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 | quinn hughes ♔

summary: with you, always after a depressive state a wave of organization and the need to clean came over you. pair this with the holiday season and it was even more chaotic, pair this with not answering your phone and a worried boyfriend and it was a mess.

warnings: depressive state, motivation/organization, christmas (idk bro just in case)

notes: yes, i know that the hughes’ are jewish and celebrate hanukkah (at least i’m pretty sure don’t sue me if i’m wrong please), but this was inspired by me because this literally happened and is happening right now so the reader does celebrate christmas. and also the way she cleans in this and does stuff is literally how i did things because you all need to see how i function i guess. someone count how many times i said ‘decorate, decorative, decorated, or anything else along those lines. also add yourself to the tag list! ➺ taglist form

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Quinn was worried. She had been in a depressive state for a couple of weeks now and this one felt like it was never ending. With the holidays coming up, he was even more worried because he knew before the small break that he had a road trip and didn’t want to leave her alone. 

He knew about her routine when it came to her depressive episodes. He could always tell when it started, yet he couldn’t tell when it was going to end, no one knew. However, he did know about what she did as soon as she got out of it.

She on the other hand was not worried. She had been sitting in bed when the sudden urge to go shopping hit her. She hadn’t done anything for the holidays and with it being two weeks until Christmas, she had to get going.  It was early in the morning, around 6 in the morning when it hit, Quinn had already left for practice, or morning skate, or a game, she couldn’t remember. 

It didn’t take her much time to get ready and head out the door, and to her car. She sighed when she saw it and how messy it was, taking the time to clean it out and wash it off. It was cold in Vancouver, as it is a lot of the time. She was wearing one of her favorite sweaters and a pair of jeans, her winter coat thrown over. She took the time to do her hair and her makeup, it was the first time in weeks that she had felt this put together. 

With her motivation, it only took her 30 minutes to clean her car. She got in, putting her Christmas/Holiday playlist on to listen to as she drove to Starbucks to get her coffee which was much needed for a day like today. She then proceeded to drive to the store, without a list because when this state happened, her ADHD spiked. 

Pulling into the parking lot, it was five minutes after they had opened which meant that most of the things had been restocked. She grabbed the cart and put her coffee in the portable cupholder that she always brought to the store in case a cart didn’t have one. 

She started at one side of the store, the holiday section, picking up some decorations that she hadn’t bothered to do beforehand. She moved towards the craft section so she could get working on the gifts she had to make. Even though a lot of her close friends didn’t celebrate Christmas, she still wanted to make them gifts for the other holidays that they did celebrate or even if they didn’t celebrate anything. 

Quinn never really minded the Christmas decorations at their home, it always made her happy so it made him happy too. Somehow, she had always made it feel like home, including lots of blue and silver for Hanukkah and other things that made it feel like the holidays.

She practically skipped down the aisles, holiday music blasting through her earbuds and in between the songs, she could hear it through the speakers of the store. She had since moved to the food section, getting everything she needed for cookies and other sweets that she loved to give to the team, which they greatly appreciated. 

An hour later, she checked out and unloaded everything into her car. She ran to put the cart away, the cold slowly starting to get to her, and ran back to her car. On the way home, Quinn had texted her but she was too motivated to let anything stop her. 

Gathering everything from the car, she trekked up into their home and placed everything down right at the entrance. The first thing she needed to do was to get the cookies and other things prepped. She made all the dough that needed to sit for a while first, placing them either on the separate counter or in the fridge. 

She then moved on to making the easier cookies and placing them in the oven, setting timers on her phone for each batch. She had gotten her computer for not only a checklist, even though she knew she wouldn’t stick to it, but also for music because it always sounded better coming from there when she was doing things. 

As the cookies were baking, she started getting all the fall decorations put away and organized. Setting them into their storage room and getting their holiday decorations out, placing them in the living room. She first needed to finish cleaning before getting started on the decorating. 

She started by dusting and gathering everything that was out of place and putting them somewhat together so she could go through it later. Yet, she was distracted by her books all over the place so she decided to reorganize it, leaving spaces for the decor. Then the first alarm on her phone rang and she took the cookies out of the oven, swiftly putting a new batch in. 

Then, she organized her desk because she had been moving stuff around that it got messy, followed by her two carts that sat by it, holding pens and a mass amount of other things that she had to take care of. She switched the calendars on her bulletin board to December so she could view the events that were happening but also Quinn’s Jack and Luke’s schedules so she could watch their games when they were on. 

After that, she had to write all of her weekly events and games onto her whiteboard which was time-consuming. Running back to the kitchen, she took the next batch of cookies and took the dough out of the fridge to get them ready for the oven, changing everything she needed to. When she looked at their bedroom she noticed the laundry all around so she cleaned that up and started a load as well. Organizing their closet and bathroom while she was at it. 

She was a little worn out but she couldn’t stop now, knowing that if she were she wouldn’t be able to get back into this rhythm later. So she moved on to changing their sheets so they were blue with snowflakes and added a few Christmas pillows to make it feel like her. Then she added the other decorations she got for the bedroom as well. 

Now it was time for the living room. She put up their fake tree that she had gotten in case they were ever too busy to get a real one. She put the first one up in one corner, beside the TV, and the other one on the opposite side next to the couch. She decorated the first one with multi-colored lights and all other Christmas-y things. 

Then she took the bin labeled ‘Hanukkah Tree’ and placed it by the other one. She put more pillows onto their couch before making more cookies. Taking a break from cleaning, she made some chocolate, pretzel reindeer and put them on a decorative platter. She placed the other cookies she would take the team in different tins and placed them in a bag by the door.

She noticed the other bags by the front door and brought them into the living room, grabbing the two extra rolling carts from her office along the way. One cart was for her hot chocolate and snack bar that she and Quinn started as a tradition in college. She put that by the TV mantel, also placing the festive bins they had underneath and switching out everything from the fall to the winter bins. 

By now, it had been two to three hours, it was now around 2 (taking a break to eat of course), her motivation kicking in, and Quinn had been texting her. They had a game and a morning skate that day so in between the two some of the team had decided to go out for food and hang out at Brock’s house for the time being. He was worried, but it wasn’t unusual for her not to. He thought she was curled up in bed either still sleeping or staring off into space, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth. When she was motivated, she tended not to look at her phone, knowing it would stop her from completing anything she wanted to. 

He tried not to worry, with the game and all it kind of took his mind off of it. But he could never really be settled about the fact that his girlfriend hadn’t answered him all day even if it was normal. She might’ve gotten hurt or needed him so much that she couldn't text him. It bothered him throughout the whole day. 

She was really happy and pleased with herself as she stopped to eat lunch and looked around their home. She watched ‘Home Alone’ as she ate, looking at her computer to see what she had completed. She was surprised when a lot of it could be checked off and there were only a few more things to do, the guest rooms and bathroom, along with a number of small other tasks. She finished baking for the moment, a lot of the other dough still needed to sit for a couple more hours. 

She allowed herself to breathe a little bit, doing some work on her computer. She then laid out the gifts she needed to make in her spreadsheet, along with the cards and other copious amounts of things that went into gifts. It was one of her main love languages. 

When she started up again, she tackled the bigger tasks first, the guest rooms and bathroom, getting it restocked and festive just in case there was an emergency need for a room. Then she finished decorating the house, putting some paper snowflakes that she had found time to make, putting the festive towels out (one more for Christmas and one for Hanukkah), and other finishing touches. 

Then she put the bins away, keeping the tree stuff out for her and Quinn to do tomorrow when he had an off day. She collapsed onto the couch and looked around in amazement. It was really nice to see their home so clean after her previous state.

She continued to watch ‘Home Alone’ as she made gifts, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. When the time came around, she put the game on and cheered on Quinn. She would’ve gone if this motivation kick had come two days earlier and she felt bad. She hadn’t been able to come to a game in forever. Though, Quinn would be just as happy that she was feeling better and just watching the game from the comfort of their home. 

Throughout the game she made more cookies and continued to make gifts, finishing a lot actually. In between intermissions, she gave herself breaks so she could get around and move a little more especially because after standing all day she was cramping from sitting down. 

When the game was over, she switched it back to ‘Home Alone 2’ which was almost over, so she then put Elf on which is what she was watching when Quinn came through the door. He smelt the baking when he stepped in and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Babe?”

Y/n got up from the ground and made her way to where her boyfriend was standing, “Hey Quinny! Nice job tonight!” She hugged him tightly kissing him on the cheek.

“Do you want some cookies? I made a lot today, there’s the bag of cookies for you to bring to the team. I also left the bin of Hanuakkah tree stuff out so we could decorate it tomorrow. I got the hot chocolate and snack cart put together and I decorated.”

“I can see. I can also see you’re feeling better.”

Quinn walked further into the room and placed his bag down in its respective place, watching as his girlfriend sat on one of the stools at the bar counter.

“You have a good day?” She nodded her head and spread her legs a little so Quinn could stand closer to her. 

He kissed her head and smiled, “That's good.” He took his suit jacket off and placed it on the neighboring stool before kissing her on the lips. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart.”

“Me too, Quinny. How about you go shower and we can restart the movie and cuddle on the couch?” He nodded his head and headed to their bathroom to shower.

Thirty minutes later, y/n was laying on the couch when Quinn came back in gray sweatpants and one of his Canucks sweatshirts. She scooted over and patted the spot behind her, the boy fit perfectly, wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Quinner.”

The two fell asleep not that far into the movie, sleeping in their newly decorated living room.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

@lilyevanswhore | @shoesjr13 | @dancerbailey3 | @if-my-heart-bleeds

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #vancouver canucks #canucks

[minkdelovely]

ptolemaea

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“i am no good nor evil, simply i am. and i have come to take what is mine.”

Nun!Alastor x Demon!Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: top!lucifer x bottom!alastor, alcohol consumption, accidental luci praise fic?, blasphemous debauchery, desecration of catholic imagery, smut (vague i know but if the previous tags haven’t scared you… 😂) also not a brag but i think i accidentally put my whole pussy into this idk what happened but here we are 🥂**didn’t implement tag list to avoid shocking y’all to death**

word count: 5.1k

author’s note: *natalie portman voice* i never said i was a role model. this companion piece (<- first part linked here) is dedicated to darling @hazelfoureyes who gave me courage to let my freak flag fly — please accept this as my humble offer of gratitude; it’s been an honor to workshop this idea with you 😭 totally get it if this crosses a line for some (please skip, i promise it’s okay lol) but i couldn’t be more excited to publish this. for anyone willing to join us on the yellow brick road to hell you are welcome to link arms 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥 theme inspo from ethel cain 🏚️ i also made a playlist for the party if you wanna check it out ✨

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Samhain was always a peculiar time for Lucifer.

Though he could come and go as he pleased between realms — with the exception of Heaven, of course — the thinning of the veil was the only time of year he could feel Earth from Hell. The energy of realms converging wallowed in the air heady as incense, enticing his powers to rest just under his skin. 

Or at least that’s how it felt. A not-unpleasant humming tension, aching to be released. It put him on edge, stirring him like a poker to hot coals as he fought to maintain his suave facade against the urge to succumb to the deeper power he normally held back with ease. It had never gone over well whenever Lucifer gave into the temptation… 

Except for the year he accidentally created a mound of rubber ducks. What a charming fascination that had turned out to be.

Normally he would make plans to visit with one of the other Sins or confine himself to his workshop to keep busy (use your imagination), but this year Charlie was hosting a party at the hotel. A costume party. He had no intention of dressing up (the fear that no one took him seriously enough as-is not completely unfounded), but he did find the practice endearing. Little mortals disguising themselves to hide from ghouls and demons. 

But he was Lucifer Morningstar, after all. Sinners and the like dressed up after him, not the other way around.

Exasperation pricked the king’s skin as Alastor suddenly came to mind, maintaining a perpetual state of unwelcome in Lucifer’s consciousness. He probably wouldn’t be dressing up either, the smug son-of-a-bitch. Every day is Halloween for that haunted sideshow, he thought bitterly with a laugh to himself, the sound echoing off the walls his only companion within the confines of the office — aside from the ever-present mass of ducks, of course.

The dilemma was still there when the laughter died though. Risk letting Charlie down by not dressing up and lumping himself in with Alastor by extension? Or don a costume and give the snarky demon and anyone else with a mocking eye the false impression of superiority? Lucifer groaned, running both hands through his bouffant platinum hair as he slumped forward at his desk. 

How had it come to this, needing to choose between love for his daughter or himself? Consumed by the current problem, he failed to recognize that this was an issue typically at hand, even when he lacked venom behind it. He was making good progress when it came to Charlie, but as they say, old habits die hard. There had to be a compromise somewhere…

A minute passed.

Head between his knees, his eyes shot open with the thrill of inspiration and he sprang from his chair, decision made. The familiar handsome smile graced his lips as he sauntered to his bedroom where an untouched suit awaited him in the armoire. He wasn’t the sin of Pride for nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Intersecting somewhere between Halloween and New Year's Eve, the newly-added ballroom of the hotel was decorated to the gills, not a single inch of it lacking in festive flair. Angel Dust scoffed when a DJ had been suggested and happily provided a playlist for the party, which was either really smart or really crazy. Or both. Only time would tell, but so far there had been no complaints.

Sinners were piling in, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the establishment. The cacophony of conversation, laughter, and music filled the space with a liveliness Charlie hoped would be a more permanent fixture at the hotel. She and Vaggie had taken charge of greeting everyone at the entrance of the ballroom, receiving some surprisingly sincere compliments on their Glinda and Elphaba costumes. Any derogatory laughter or smirks were being pointedly ignored, both women knowing full well that they looked incredible.

When Charlie spotted her father approaching in the crowd, her smile faltered briefly. “Dad! I thought I told you this was a costume party,” she said tentatively, looking back to give Vaggie a silent plead to keep up with the greetings before focusing her full attention on Lucifer.

“Oh, honey, you look fantastic! Pink really suits you,” he deflected, eyes and voice sparkling as he held Charlie’s arms out to admire the glittering gown, looking every bit the princess she was.

She drew back, not unkindly, when he released her and wrapped her arms around her ribs self-consciously. Groaning, “Dad…” 

It was quite impressive how she could admonish him with a single word without even meaning to. Must've gotten it from her mother, he thought absently, though Lilith wouldn’t know passive aggression if it slapped her on the ass. 

Thinking on his estranged wife, it was a true miracle how Charlie had blossomed into the compassionate and brave young woman standing before him. Lilith, never afraid to lead the charge; himself, too trepidatious to take the risk. Yet somehow their daughter seemed to embody the best of them both, reflecting parts of himself that he didn’t know where there.

He could have wept on the spot, suddenly fit to burst with affection for her — no doubt another side effect of the day — but the angel quickly refocused when he saw Charlie’s nervous expression toward him and leapt into damage control.

“Whaddya mean, I am dressed up!” he managed to answer with his usual charm. With one hand he pointed at his extended horns, a flicker of flame glowing between them adorned with his delicate serpent crown. The other hand swooped in front of his red suit with a flourish. “You’re telling me this doesn’t pass as a credible devil costume? You know, I actually held back. Thought maybe it’d be too scary for your guests if I went all out.”

If keeping his flame low and eyes neutral counted as holding back, and not just the ones in his skull. People got squeamish around him whenever the amass of eyes on his wings appeared. He didn’t blame them.

Lucifer was rambling now, a nervous laugh the cherry on top of his need to save face. Though somewhat of a loophole, he had found the idea to be rather clever. Then again, he was trapped in an echo chamber of his own thoughts so most ideas naturally fell into that category. Was it really such a letdown? He could’ve bailed altogether, nerves already desperate for solitude, but he wanted to try for her. Even if it felt like two steps forward and one step back when it came to Charlie, he’d keep aiming to get it right for as long as she’d allow. 

“I actually think you look great,” Vaggie said smoothly, swooping in next to Charlie at the first break in the crowd. Lucifer would owe her for the rest of existence for the save. A debt he was more than happy to repay in whichever way pleased her best, making a mental note to discuss it later with the fellow angel. “It’s a lot better than what Alastor decided to show up in, anyhow.” The grimace on her face and in her tone was unmistakable. 

Alastor had fucked up.

It took all of Lucifer’s willpower to keep his magic in check at the delight that shot through him. The PR mess regarding what would equate to mass murder, regrettably, didn’t ping his radar. But the thought of needing to rebuild the ballroom was just taxing enough to keep the impulse at bay.

He was about to ask what Vaggie meant when Charlie stepped in, playing devil’s advocate as usual (no pun intended). What his precious, well-meaning daughter saw in that undeserving creep, he’d never understand.

“He’s just getting into the spirit! You have to admit, it’s nice to see him mingling for once, he’s usually so—”

“Grotesque?” Lucifer offered.

“Conniving?” Vaggie added.

“Reclusive!” Charlie practically screamed, earning looks from a few demons within earshot. “Look, I won’t say that what he picked out isn’t… surprising, but I’m just really happy to see him join in on the fun. He’s been enjoying himself so far, so I want you guys on best behavior, all right?” 

She said you guys but made solid eye contact with her father. Despite wanting to protest, Lucifer understood he was already off to a shaky start and conceded with a sigh, covered quickly with a debonair grin. Charlie didn’t know what a particularly big ask it was to be on best behavior tonight, but that was his burden to bear.

“Of course, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about! There are so many sinners here I doubt we’ll even run into each other.”

Famous last words.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Lucifer tried to enjoy himself, he really did. 

In the brief moments before his eyes found Alastor in the crowd, it had actually been a wonderful time. He was immediately awash in the admiration of his subjects, even managing to make some poor creature faint with a simple grin in their direction — though he had really laid on the charm with that one. Could he be blamed though? After ten millennia of habit, calling it compulsive would be an understatement. 

Moments like this were a reminder of why it was good to get out of his office every now and then. Whether it was compliments on his look, praise for the fight with Adam, or outright solicitation for sex, Lucifer drank it all in; beaming as the crowd awed at the sight of fully extended wings he could no longer keep to himself. He really was the shit, wasn’t he? Being worshipped is truly unlike anything else, but it’s something to experience, not explain. All he knew was that he adored it. 

It had been a devastatingly short-lived escape, the proverbial looming gray cloud — never too far away — returning as Lucifer’s gaze fell on Alastor. He had been scanning for the bar and stumbled on an atrocity instead. Just his luck. 

The costume was a shocking choice to be sure, one that Lucifer might have even appreciated had it been on literally anyone else. But something about it on Alastor was simply… perverse. Leaving him with the struggle of trying to decide if it was the costume that was the issue or its inhabitant.

Was it the way the habit — embellished with red stitches on each side and the Cross of Saint Peter in the center — framed Alastor’s face, ears and horns still exposed with just a tuft of bang peaking out across his forehead? The pure white wimple that glowed like a beacon against the stark black surrounding it, casting an unusual grace upon the slender neck and broad shoulders underneath? Or how the tunic flattered the swell of his chest, the taper of his thin waist accentuated by the fabric swirling about his hips that flowed down over long, lean legs?

The demon, draped languidly over the bar, was chatting with Husker; the look on their faces was the most relaxed and natural Lucifer had ever seen exchanged between the pair, borderline flirtatious. Whatever the bartender said made Alastor toss his head back with a laugh, the exuberant sound of it piercing the angel’s chest like an arrow. How he had even managed to hear it so clearly over the music and the crowd was a miracle, or perhaps curse was more accurate. Still, the easygoing look on Alastor’s face as he came down from the laugh was bewitching, accented by a boozy flush and mischievous, heavy red eyes.

Insufferable.

The Radio Demon was in top form tonight, confidence radiating from him with such a forceful ease that the king could feel it even from his place across the room. He hadn’t noticed the literal sparks flying out of the pads of his fingers until he brought his hands up to tug at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight. Fuck.

Taking it all in, Lucifer could feel the heat rising reluctantly in his face as he was consumed by a baffling mixture of lust and loathing.

All because Alastor decided to be a blasphemous piece of shit, he seethed, scowling as he narrowed his eyes at the sinner in question. Eerie, arrogant, pompous, constant pain-in-the-ass Alastor, riling him up like this? Lucifer had considered it number one on his list of impossibilities, caught completely off-guard by the rush of desire — if he had to put a word on it — for the ghoulish prick. An impulse he had never entertained nor wanted to feel in regard to the demon, but was there all the same.

“Samhain,” Lucifer cursed under his breath. The flame between his horns intensified, eyes prickling with the threat to change color. He took a breath, remembering Charlie. 

Best behavior. 

It was about as helpful as a bandaid over a bullet wound. This had to be a joke; a cruel, tasteless joke meant to provoke him specifically. Like he hadn’t suffered enough of those already in his long, long existence.

That was the only conclusion the angel could come to from his table near the bar, practically burning alive in his chair as he watched Alastor strutting around the ballroom in between breaks from the dance floor. Lucifer really had almost set himself on fire after catching Alastor in the middle of a sultry dance move with one of the guests, a rolling of hips he didn’t think Alastor was even capable of doing, let alone inflict upon someone. It took a double shot to mellow out when he found himself wondering what it would be like to switch places with that guest, though it did little to quell the growing ache coiling low in his abdomen.

There was a lull in the music and the crowd disbursed, quickly filling the empty space around the angel. Lucifer exhaled, somewhere between a groan and a laugh. Alastor had finally managed to dip out of his line of sight — not that the demon was forcing Lucifer to look — and the reprieve couldn’t have come at a better time; the solace of his absence coming over the angel like poultice to a throbbing wound. Despite being a couple drinks in now, the tension in his body was a ticking bomb. He needed the opportunity to try and decompress before he accidentally wrought havoc upon the denizens invited here by his daughter.

For at least the tenth time he entertained the idea of going back up to his room, if only to release some of the punishing energy pulsating through him, but he wasn’t confident that he’d return. The only thing holding him back was the promise he made to Charlie to be present and well behaved. And so, he remained committed to the confinement of the table he’d been bonded to for the last hour.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

In hoping to keep as much distance as possible Lucifer had unwittingly tipped Alastor off, landing the problem he was hoping to evade right in his lap. So to speak.

He always forgot that the demon could travel through shadow until it was too late. It’s just that he didn’t care to remember, not wanting to give Alastor even the tiniest bit of permanent space in his mind. Something he was actually too oblivious to realize he was already doing; they both were.

Alastor had of course noticed when Lucifer entered the room. Whether he wanted to was another thing entirely. Though it was to be expected, what with the dregs of Hell no doubt encountering royalty for the first time. Thankfully he had been at the bar with Husker, his captive bartender providing a welcome distraction with a joke about how his drink was going to cost a few Hail Marys. There were reasons Alastor kept him around, after all, beyond the obvious. Surly as he was, Husk had the capacity to be quite funny when the mood struck. He wasn’t on the clock tonight, but he was the only one Alastor trusted to pour his drinks. 

He could feel the glare beating down on him from that moment on, focused on him wherever he went. So he laid it on, making rounds and fluffing up the guests who were all too eager to devour his attention. It had been especially fun seeing the quick shock of flame in the corner after he showed off a risqué dance move, all for his majesty’s entertainment of course. If the spotlight was going to be forced on him, why not perform? But after an hour the joke was growing stale, and so the demon came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one to bridge the gap.

Lucifer jumped at the shock of Alastor’s melodic voice coming from behind him, transmuting the glass in his hand into a duck without meaning to with a pop; amber-colored liquor swirling around within the confines of its new shape. Lucifer couldn’t decide what pissed him off more, the jump scare or the magic trick. The not-so-secret third option being Alastor’s proximity to himself, the heat from their bodies mingling in the small space between them.  

“Fuck! You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve sneaking up on me like that. I’m liable to make it a killing offense,” Lucifer sneered, tossing a napkin over his new little creation before anyone else could notice it. “And I haven’t been admiring you. I’m just, uh, keeping an eye on things! Besides, a king shouldn’t mingle with the general population. Might give off the wrong impression.” 

Sealed with crossed arms and a smug, toothy grin, it would’ve made for a decent enough comeback had it not been for the slip up. 

A dear old friend to Alastor, the slip up.

The expression on his face sharpened with a malicious instinctual ease as an idea unfurled in his mind. Lucifer was so obviously perturbed by him, the attempt he made at concealing it was almost endearing in a pathetic way. Though he was always in a pathetic way to Alastor, dark gums revealed in his ominous smile as his scheme took shape. He leaned in low, lips nearly grazing the angel’s skin as he spoke; his ear twitched at the catch of Lucifer’s breath from the action. He was so fucking obvious.

How humiliating.

“Is that so? Well, if you’re merely killing time here, might I suggest a bit of… sport?”

Lucifer flinched, pulling his face away to glare up at him. He couldn’t be insinuating what the angel thought he was, could he? It would be a bold — deadly — move even under normal circumstances. And tonight was anything but normal. 

Something was clearly in the air for Alastor too, if the fraternizing Lucifer had witnessed for the past hour was any indication (not realizing he had been the cause). He was known to have a flirtatiousness about him when he drank, but there was a different edge to it this evening. Lucifer was beginning to wonder if the costume was fueling his narcissism. Obscene.

“Well, your majesty?” Alastor goaded, radio filter frazzling as he leered down. To Lucifer’s chagrin, bedroom eyes looked good on him, the rotten bitch. “If not, I’m more than happy to leave you to your sulking.”

That was a lie and they both knew it, the tension so charged between them the air might combust at any second. Given the king’s proneness to accidents tonight (and the literal open flame above his head) it wasn’t an impossibility. 

As they locked eyes, some silent declaration was sent, though neither had received the same message. Or perhaps they did and therein was the problem, dooming them to be forever caught in this stubborn battle of wills. 

Lucifer tried — and failed — to ignore the portion of himself that, apparently, had been eager for the opportunity. He could give in… if only to set some boundaries on who was always the winner in this pissing contest. The smoky trace of whiskey lingering on Alastor’s breath caused Lucifer’s nails to dig into the flesh of his palm, golden pinpricks of blood rising in the wake. 

A proposition now effectively ratified. 

The Body and the Blood…

How sentimental.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Haaahh…! Mmmnn — ahh!”

“Fuck…”

It started off as a joke like so many things do when you’re scared shitless of vulnerability.

An insult here, a dare to chase it. Contemptuous eyes poorly concealing the desire simmering underneath. An angry meeting of mouths, all tongue and teeth and claws. The clattering of miscellaneous items being recklessly swiped off a table.

Glass shattering. 

More insults.

A bite to the lip drawing blood, tangled breath filling in the needy gaps awaiting any touch they could get. The first shared moan ringing in ears before scorching its way down, stoking the molten ache roiling in the gut, desperate to envelop them both and leave nothing but frayed nerves behind. 

Caressing, pulling, gripping, grinding, biting…

The party supply room was hot, air humid with sweaty musk and the steam of heaving breaths, the sounds of the party resonating on the other side of the wall. Inside were hisses through clenched teeth, groans of ecstasy; slick skin coming together then pulling away with the magnitude of storm-heavy waves crashing and receding on the shore.

The tunic covering Alastor’s torso did little to comfort him, stripped as he felt. In fact, the habit was still on too, the only piece of clothing torn from him being the wimple in order to free the expanse of his neck. Lucifer had spent quite a bit of time there, marking it well with harsh love bites and languid strokes of his forked tongue.

He was laid out beneath the angel, open mouthed and florid, vaguely coherent as his king fucked him senseless; seemingly determined to conquer the demon as wholly as possible. A task at which he was succeeding, if he hadn’t done so already; though to be fair he had never stood a chance against Lucifer. Not tonight.

Alastor hadn’t spoken a proper word in minutes, reduced to communicating through moans, groans, and sharp intakes of breath. Quite the accomplishment considering he was such an articulate fellow. 

Lucifer didn’t know it yet, but he would be haunted by the memory of seeing Alastor’s eyes roll to the back of his head once he found the pace he was currently keeping; deep and steady, just fast enough to stay ahead of the desperation that was never too far behind.

So tight…

The demon almost looked sweet, splayed out below him like this, lost in the throes of pleasure. It was a nice change considering the sneer that normally painted his face. But seeing him like this, brows knit and face flushed, the tuft of bang soaked into his forehead…

In this moment, Lucifer truly felt like a God.

He certainly looked like he could be, his demon form fully unleashed. He always felt such relief in this state. It was exhausting holding himself back, and not just today. Something he did all the time, not out of concern or ease for others, but because he had difficulty grappling with his station. Not that he’d give it up — hell no. But the burden of leadership was exactly that. Lilith had known it too, all too happy to take the reins until she wasn’t. He’d been happy to let her… until he wasn’t.

Maybe it was the melding properties of Samhain surging through him, but he could swear he felt a shifting. What good did it do for him to hide himself away? There was actually plenty of proof to the contrary. Why should he hold himself back? He was Lucifer Morningstar. Hell was his domain, and all its inhabitants needed a reminder that he was to be revered.

The Radio Demon could be their martyr.

Why else had he offered himself up like one? And the image suited him well.

“I showed the Nazareth all the kingdoms of the world before they crucified him. What do you see, Alastor?” Lucifer growled, voice thick and smug with authority. He leaned down to nip and lick at the skin of Alastor’s open jaw, still whipping his hips at a relentless pace. 

Even with eyes closed — too much effort, they were so heavy to keep open — Alastor could see him perfectly, the image of Lucifer seared into his mind. Eyes. Glowing red eyes to match the flame roaring between his fully formed horns and the apple that topped his serpent crown like a sparkling ruby. Leering, all-seeing eyes on seraphim’s wings. 

A fanged grin so self-satisfied it was like looking directly into the sun. 

A God.

It burned him to admit it.

But the wanton moan that tore through Alastor’s chest pierced the room, coming on so quickly he never stood a chance at restraining it. The words spilling from Lucifer’s mouth in deep rumbles threatened to unravel the meager hold Alastor had left on his dignity. Absent claws bit into the flesh of the demon’s thighs as the angel momentarily hitched from the way Alastor clenched around him, hot and greedy as if needing to milk him for all he was worth.

The king let out a husky laugh in response, latching onto a particularly enticing patch of Alastor’s neck where it met the shoulder; reveling again in the salty musk that coated his tongue before biting down, filling his mouth with the satisfying taste of iron.

Alastor opened his mouth in a soundless plead, his mouth and throat dry from exertion. Impossible as it seemed, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes; his painfully hard and untouched dick throbbed, weeping against his stomach and into the fabric of the tunic. It was too much… He was too full, too surrounded, too helpless.

Consuming. 

Yes, that’s what it felt like. 

He had never been on the opposite side of it before. 

And despite it all, he could feel his orgasm pooling low in his belly, balls painfully full and tight. That gnawing tension yearning for relief as Lucifer’s thick arousal punished his spongy core. Once the angel pulled away from his neck, Alastor couldn’t help but reach down to touch himself, so in need of climax he didn’t care what it took to get it.

Lucifer roared at the sight, cock twitching as his own release threatened to spill, but managed to hold it back. Delicious as this was to witness, he couldn’t let Alastor get to the finish line just yet; his pointed tail coming around to snatch the demon’s hand away as he pulled out, exhaling with a strained grunt.

The sudden absence of both sensations left Alastor to writhe in frustrated ache, practically sobbing through gritted teeth at the loss, which Lucifer mercifully tried to soothe with languid kisses and nips to the demon’s inner thigh. He wasn’t a completely unfeeling Lord, after all.

He just needed one last thing before letting them both attain the high they so desperately wanted, his eyes shifting back from radiant flame to red and yellow with a blink as he wrapped his hand around Alastor’s angry, dripping length. It wouldn’t be long now, the poor creature was so hard and wet to the touch.

Alastor cried out, regaining some semblance of himself as he unconsciously bucked into Lucifer’s unmoving hand; his mouth made a sticky sound as he swallowed hard, moisture finally returning to his parched throat. 

“Luci…fer… please — I can’t…!” Alastor practically tore the words out between heaving breaths, tears burning his skin as the shame of needing to beg deepened his rosy blush to an intense red. 

He hadn’t expected the demon to beat him to the punch, unable to fight the grin of victory painting his lips as his eyes resumed their fearsome glow. Benevolently rewarding Alastor with a few firm strokes, he relished the lewd, wet sound of it joining the chorus of his subject’s carnal whimpers. Lucifer bent down and flattened his tongue, giving a slow wide lick to Alastor’s leaking cock from base to head, finishing with an obscene slurp. How could he possibly have denied himself such a precious offering? 

A pleased hum rumbled in Lucifer’s chest when Alastor slung an arm over his face, gossamer strings of spit between his lips as he shuddered, “Oh god… fuck…”

That would work. 

Lucifer buried himself back into Alastor’s enticing heat, continuing his ministrations as his hips set a slow pace. A mewling groan spilled from the demon’s mouth, hips rolling to meet each of the angel’s thrusts. Lucifer’s peak was quickly approaching, too lost in the divine feeling of Alastor’s body surrounding him, already lamenting the thought of being finished.

“You poor thing… Did I fuck all the attitude out of you?” the angel taunted, golden blood dripping down the side of his mouth from the force of his smile.

No longer capable of holding it back, the orgasm crashed through Alastor with the force of an avalanche, heart threatening to burst through his chest; the sound of its rapid pounding nearly drowning out his own scream of rapture. He spasmed so tightly that the king had to still himself, the grip on him almost painful. Hot, thick cum shot onto the demon’s stomach and Lucifer’s hand in gratifying spurts as he stroked him through his high, desperate for every drop he could wring out.

Inspired by the mess in front of him, the angel pulled out and brought one of Alastor’s hands to him, guiding him until he felt life twitch back into the demon’s fingers. The grasp was a little too harsh, Alastor perhaps using this as a chance for revenge if the look in his eye was any indication, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could take this conquest from him. It wasn’t long before Lucifer was rutting into the demon’s hand, groaning through clenched teeth as his face twisted up before spilling himself into Alastor’s palm.

Lucifer gave himself a moment to revel in the bliss of their debauchery before cleaning them up with a snap of his fingers. He was too worn out to put more effort into it than that, and hey, got the job done, didn’t it?

They were still trying to catch their breath when they finally locked eyes, the post-coital sobriety already at work. Alastor’s ears flattened as he glared at the angel, a rare grimace on his lips.

“No one knows about this. Understood?” he threatened, the static crackling in the air around him.

“Ha! Who do you think you’re talking to? Now I know I fucked you stupid.”

Their fistfight didn’t last long, but provided a great cover for their absence when they stumbled back to the bar in desperate need of a strong drink.

So much for best behavior…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“How did you do it by the way, the last temptation of Christ?” Alastor couldn’t believe he was asking, the bitterness clear in his voice, but he figured it might be his only chance to find out without seeming too curious.

It took Lucifer a second to process the question, an easy smile spreading across his face. “Oh what, showing Jesus the world? I just whipped out a map*.”

Insufferable.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: don’t worry, alastor was prepped before getting railed lol it just happened off screen 🫠

*biblically accurate if you can believe

#radioapple #radioapple smut #nun alastor #demon lucifer #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #nun alastor smut #alastor x lucifer #alastor x lucifer smut #hazbin hotel fan fiction #radioapple fan fiction #hazbin hotel smut

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 3 | 18+ only

hii everyone! thank you SO much for the incredible kindness youve shown me and sweet words so far! and thank you all for reading. i accidentally made this chapter longer than i intended to.. oops. i hope i am doing a good job at slow burning because ive struggled with that in the past. warnings: reader goes outside to smoke a cigarette. lol. enjoy and as always feedback fuels me!!

also, i wanted to let you all know that you can listen to the playlist i have been listening to as i work on this fic which is sort of a mix of stuff that reminds me of ken and stuff i think he'd like. idk i love when authors share what they listen to, so you can check that out here.

you can also reply to my posts or message me if you want to be tagged for updates. i am posting a masterlist today for ease of access.

tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria

In the span of one hour, you absorbed more information and somehow became more confused the longer Ken spent investigating every inch of your apartment. You explained to him that you did not own this entire building, and that only one unit was allotted to you, but this still impressed Ken.

“Are you friends with all your neighbors?” He asked, squinting closely at the magnets on your fridge, touching them and flipping frantically through the notepad you used for grocery lists, like he needed to see more of your handwriting, more of the things you used every day. Ken murmured to himself as he took in the words: flour, one dozen eggs, croissants.

You’d reinstated yourself at your dining table with your work laptop, creating an elaborate lie for your supervisor as to why you missed the weekly team check in. My cousin’s dog was assaulted by a rabid possum and we had to take him to the emergency vet, please excuse my brief absence… I’m happy to work overtime to accommodate this inconvenience… He was only a puppy…

So on and so forth. You were confident you could schmooze your way out of a write up. Ken couldn’t stand still, couldn’t contain himself – had whizzed through the front door when you unlocked it, bouncing off the walls with questions and comments that flowed freely.

“No, I’m not friends with all my neighbors. There’s gotta be at least forty other people that live here. Are you?”

“I know all the Kens. We are not all friends. But I know all of them.”

“You’re all named Ken.”

“No. There’s Allans.”

“Right.”

Ken gleefully picked up each cookbook stacked on top of a low hanging shelf, tearing through each one and making tiny astonished faces at each new dish he was introduced to. Recipes on the sweeter side piqued his interest – cinnamon rolls, pastries, cookies. You had suspended disbelief long enough to just let Ken do this, let him touch everything even if he moved your belongings out of place. It wasn’t typical for you to have a man over, let alone one who was learning how the natural human world worked. (And had to ask you with stars in his eyes what ovens were for.)  

“These pancakes look divine. They’re putting all kinds of stuff in these. I didn’t know you could put blueberries in them. They taste good, right?” You craned your neck to get a look at the recipe he was referring to.

“If you’re a decent cook! You just have to pay attention to what you’re doing, measuring, how long things stay on the stove. It’s like that for anything you cook. I’m not great with pancakes, for some reason I always tend to burn them.”

“So what’s your favorite food?” Ken asks, setting the book down and taking to the fridge, flinging the doors wide open and surveying each salad dressing, bottle of water, every can of cold brew coffee. He ran his fingers along the labels, as if reading braille, receiving telepathic information about these products from just handling them. It was an odd sight. Everything he held looked so small in his hands.

“Er… I guess I really like sushi. But I haven’t had it in awhile. Trying to save money, make a habit of eating at home. And I just like to make simple things.”

“What’s in sushi?” Ken’s rotating a banana in his hands, picking at the stem to see what it does.

“A lot of things. Usually raw fish. Rice that sticks together to make a shape, seaweed, different kinds of sauces.” It’s making you laugh, seeing Ken size up this banana with a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to try eating that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, placing the fruit back down on the counter like it had offended him. “We have these in Barbieland but they are not nearly as squishy. Ours are rock hard. And not brown!”

Ken was right – that banana was probably past its prime, but you hadn’t cleaned out the fridge in a few days. You’d gotten sick of refreshing your inbox waiting for a reply from your supervisor, so you got up and pulled a knife from the drawer, setting the squishy banana on a paper towel to cut it.

“Here. Try this,” you cut through the peel and divide up a small end slice into two pieces, holding one out to Ken who seems frightened by it, squares his shoulders.

“There’s something inside that peel?”

“Go ahead, just take a bite! You might like it, how else will you find out what you like?”

“But (Y/N), I’m not… hungry.”

“That’s okay. It’s a very small slice, I promise it’ll be alright, Ken.”

His eyes flash with trust at the promise you’ve just made him, so he abandons his apprehension and plops the bit into his mouth. It’s like watching a baby bird clamor for its mother’s offering of regurgitated seed and berry mix. Ken doesn’t instinctively chew, he just lets it sit in his mouth like he’s waiting for the fruit to do something. You raise up the other banana slice, catch his eye and show him how to chew, slowly, and then swallow. 

Ken nods, although his movements are strange and exaggerated, but eventually allows a smile. “That was pretty good. Mushy.” He searches your face to see if he’s given the correct answer, which is even funnier to you than him trying food for the first time.

“Did you like it? Bananas are on the sweet side.”

“Definitely. I think I really like them. Can I have the rest of it?”

“So you can taste!”

Ken grins to himself, gives you a proud stance and swaggers to the side, popping his hip out as he starts cutting up the rest of the fruit. 

“Oh, yeah. I can taste everything. Nothing I can’t taste.”

“When I go to the store next I can get you some more sweet foods. But you can’t just eat sweets. Fruit is naturally sweet, but for example, you can’t just have ice cream and brownies all the time. Your body will hate you for that.”

“And I can make you pancakes with bananas.” Ken adds, cocky as ever, already physically spreading himself out in your kitchen like he owns the place, thighs open and easy and confident as he leans back. He adjusts quickly to new situations, you’re discovering, with none of the social anxiety most people might feel.

“Let’s save the cooking and… turning on the stovetop… for when I can teach you. It can be dangerous if you’re not familiar with what to do.”

“But what if I want to surprise you, (Y/N)? You wouldn’t want to ruin it, would you?”

“I’d rather ruin the breakfast than have you accidentally catch my apartment building on fire.”

Ken considers this, starts chewing at the rest of the banana slices while still committed to looking cool as he does so. “You’re so right. So, where do you think I should sleep?”

You put some distance between the two of you, since proximity to the blonde had begun to make you feel inexplicably self conscious, and sit back down at your laptop. You hadn’t gotten this far, hadn’t decided where Ken could stay and if he was even going to stay. Stay for what? A crash course in becoming a member of society? Turn him into the perfect roommate who’s convinced you’re dating now? And how in the hell were you qualified to teach him anything about life, fulfillment, health or success when you were far from the epitome of any of those?

“I thought you said you didn’t get tired.”

“There’s something I need to tell you about,” the sudden change in Ken’s tone caught you off guard, so after taking a brief glance at your emails again and confirming nothing of substance had arrived, you folded your hands in your lap and turned your body towards him, anticipatory and patient.

“When Barbie went to the real world, almost everything about her changed. She still looked like herself, but… it was different. She told us that she got a cold.” Ken gestured to his nose, crinkling it up in dismay. “Sniffling. She had to use tissues.” 

“You’re worried about getting sick?”

“No, not… right now.” Ken tried again, attacking it from a different angle. “Barbie said the longer she was here, the more she kept changing. Barbies never got sick before. But she had to see a human doctor, and she started making her own food and eating it. Sandwiches. And her flat feet never went away.” Ken’s distress was evident, but you weren’t sure what he was getting at, couldn’t see what panicked him so much about this topic.

“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Ken?” You tried to keep yourself casual, so as not to freak him out even further; he’d already begun pacing, boots clacking against your kitchen tile with each step.

“I’m saying that the longer I stay here, the less I’m going to be like… how I was.” He sounded so unsure, on the precipice of a conclusion, fearful of what he might learn. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to brush my hair. Call the dentist. Pay taxes. Wear deodorant. I might get a breakout on my chin, just like Barbie did.” The last part sounded like the nail in the coffin for Ken, who looked weak just recalling the memory.

“Taxes? But you don’t have a job, do you? For all the city knows, you don’t even exist.”

“That’s not the point, (Y/N)! I’ll have to get a job.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. So… it sounds like you’ll become less like a doll?”

“Exactly. And I’ll have to do it alone.” Ken was silent, pensive as you let his confession settle. Perhaps it wasn’t the changes that he dreaded.

It was doing it without any support.

“I see. So you’ll have to sleep. You’ll have to eat. Is that scaring you?” Your intention was to minimize these facts of daily human life, shrink them down to manageable tasks, not to trivialize his valid concerns.

Ken hollowed his cheek, bit the skin in between his teeth and looked around for something to focus on while he reflected on what you asked. Noticing the cage you had set up for your guinea pig, Ken crouched in front of it without so much as a knee crack, raising his eyebrows up inquisitively.

“Who’s this?”

“I should’ve introduced you to her earlier. She’s my guinea pig, her name’s Willa. See her long hair? It’s really beautiful, but she’s pretty high maintenance.” 

Sounds like someone else in this room.

Being so close to Willa appeared to calm Ken down, and you watched his shoulders drop slightly, saw the veins in his neck depress, growing less agitated. “Does she have to brush her hair?”

The cookbooks, grocery lists, the banana had inspired Ken to ask countless questions, but meeting Willa, Ken merely watched in quiet awe.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his purported  jab. “I help her with it every day. She’s got a special little brush.”

“Hers is longer than mine. At least she gets some assistance.”

Ken sighs deeply, not taking his eyes off tiny caramel colored Willa, who has no idea what’s happening, just lounges in the paper substrate fleece and wiggles her nose up at the blonde staring her down. He rubs meager circles on his knees as if to soothe himself, then sighs again, long and dramatic. From minute to minute, Ken’s moods shift so drastically – he could be lovingly describing his newfound obsession with bananas and then just as easily pivot to jealousy over a guinea pig receiving grooming services from its owner. Decoding him was like whiplash.

“Ken?”

“I’ve been putting off thinking about this part.”

“You mean losing your doll-ness?”

“Yeah.” Ken’s voice is small, terrified, unbefitting of how he presented himself. Put together, well dressed, toned, tanned, oozing with charm. It all dissipated with his answer. 

With your foot, you push out the dining table chair adjacent to you, the scrape spooking Ken as he jumps. “Why don’t you come sit here and talk with me? You can bring Willa, she likes making friends. Just be mindful of her.” Nervous, Ken obliges, sticks a hand into her enclosure and waits for Willa to crawl over to him. 

To your shock, she comes without a moment’s hesitation, nosing at his palm and blinking at him. Willa ardently disapproved of your last boyfriend, and she never seemed to like the odd hookup you’d bring over after your explosive breakup. She’d ignore any man in the apartment for the most part, but you couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to warm up to Ken, snuggling up to him already. 

“Wow. She normally doesn’t like strangers.” 

“Looks like she prefers your friends. She’s so soft,” Ken notes, temporarily forgetting about the needling anxiety he’d been expressing to you, and sits down. At your table Ken seemed larger than life, so full of color and irresistible personality. The most interesting irregularity you had ever entertained. He flattened the backs of his hands on the placemat and smiled down shyly at Willa, gentle like he was convinced the tiniest movement could hurt her.

(A smile that had the power to devastate – could ruin your life, could make you want to throw it all away just to know him; a smile that Ken saved specifically for a defenseless creature that nibbed at his thumbnail.) 

“Go ahead and pet her! They like that,” you encouraged Ken, denying the lump in your throat, who obeys and brings a steady forefinger to Willa’s back, warily petting her in one stunted action. Willa rustles, but doesn’t flee or make any noises contesting his presence. “She might try to run away, so just make sure you keep an eye on her.”

“I promise I will, (Y/N). How old is she?”

“She’s two and a half.” You raise your eyes to Ken, who’s entranced by the small animal and her lustrous coat, indifferent to his surroundings now that he’s connected with this hairy comrade. “How old are you?”

“I have no idea. How old are you?” 

This shouldn’t have surprised you at this point. Nothing could catch you off guard now as you went down the list, dedicating yourself wholly to figuring out what to do with this guy. Given how unadjusted he is to the world, is Ken your responsibility now? What would happen to him if he went out, unprepared, unassimilated, and tried to do things like get a job, buy something from the store? Had he ever seen currency before? 

Would you have to teach Ken math? You failed calculus. More than once. This wasn’t boding well.

“I’m twenty five. You don’t have a birthday?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s how you keep track of your age. Could you look at me for a second? Maybe I can try and guess.” Ken’s reluctant to stop looking at Willa, but does as you say, and it strikes you to admire him overtly like this, free from the guise of contrived modesty, not hiding how strongly you want to see him. He’s open, almost tranquil, those wide eyes continuously following yours, every single aspect of his demeanor softening the more you drink him in.

You couldn’t help but freeze. Pinning him. You could hear the robins chirping outside on the patio. Buses shuttling along on the road outside. Your blood pumping in your fingers, the hot curl of desire in your stomach. At once, everything felt vibrant, felt… exceptional.

Because of him.

Blonde angel, almost porcelain. Kind with your pet. Enthralled with the simplest items you owned. Eager to assist you with any task, however minor. Naively trusting. 

Blind to the ways this world could twist and chew you up. Brand new.

You wouldn’t ever be the source of pain for Ken. In that moment, searching his stark blue eyes for an answer to a question you couldn’t articulate, you wrote it on your heart, that no matter what happened – whether Ken stayed in your life, as a friend or something more – you would never hurt him.

You don’t even remember what you were trying to do with him. Mesmerized, you simply just enjoyed the sight, at a loss for words. What was there to say that wouldn’t fizzle out and die on your lips?

How are you real? (He wasn’t.)

How did you get here? (He’d waited for you.)

Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

“(Y/N)? Did you calculate it yet? Maybe it’ll be easier if I unbutton my jacket. Willa, stay put, I need to do something,” It flew over your head, you couldn’t hear what he said, just gawked and felt your pulse thrum as Ken started to undo the top of his denim jacket. Deft fingers working, you had to be aware of how affected you looked. You couldn’t hide it.

To see more of Ken’s chest physically pained you – it hurt to look, hurt to squirm and act like it wasn’t overwhelming, burning you up. He showed off his defined, carved muscle, smooth and enticing like a joke or something. 

Willa sniffed the salt and pepper shaker, not moving even a millimeter away from Ken as he undid the last button with a muffled pop. 

Where wisps of blonde hair would’ve led down to the tip of Ken’s waistband, there was nothing, just more of that milky white skin, blameless and pure and teasing. Where ribs should have anatomically been, his chest expanded then deflated, ripples of flesh rolling, then relaxing.

All of him on display. All of him so… bare.

Well – not all of him. Not yet.

You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not ever. You were experienced – you weren’t uneducated when it came to sex, or… pleasure. Yet it was impossible that you’d felt true desire in the past, even for the man you’d fallen in love with and been betrayed by, because those memories shriveled in comparison to what you felt in this moment, seeing Ken like this, expectant and unrestrained and so fiercely magnetizing. You saw your future, you saw his body, you saw Ken’s long eyelashes fluttering and pretty like a girl’s, and it was too fucking much, louder than your heart slamming inside your chest.

You began to question if you were even real. If this was happening. Maybe you were the lifeless doll. Harsh stings peppered out along the slope of your neckline – for the second time since meeting Ken, did that really just happen today? – and you made the horrible mistake of telling him the truth just as he was starting to visibly fidget, awaiting your reply.

“(Y/N)? Is this helping? If not, I can –”

“You’re so goddamned gorgeous. Fuck.” 

“What?” Ken blinked, taken aback. He looked like he wanted to say more, to press you, but he couldn’t form a response. 

“I’m. Jesus. I am so sorry, Ken. That wasn’t appropriate at all. I’m… supposed to be helping you. I’m sorry.” Dizzyingly, you shot to your feet, dug your heels against the floor just to feel grounded, and reached over the table for your purse. 

Weren’t you the one supposed to be in charge of boundaries? Teaching Ken how to act, how not to rush things when you met someone you wanted to get to know? 

Ken had flushed a deep shade of peach, an obvious blush that mottled his neck and spread out to his clavicles, nearly reaching his shoulder tips. 

“Did I do something wrong? Can you please tell me what it was?” Ken urged, pupils the size of saucers and still dancing to follow your every move. His face was frantic, lips parted revealing more of his perfect teeth, just another element of his perfect face, everything so perfect about him, and your headache threatened to return in full force.

“No – no, you didn’t, Ken. I promise. I just need to go outside and smoke, it’s not your fault, okay? Can you please stay here with Willa? I’ll only be a minute.”

Ken clearly didn’t know what you meant, or what smoking entailed, but he stayed fused to the chair, biting at his lip again in fragile confusion and not daring to abandon Willa. Fumbling for your lighter through the fabric, you caught the unmistakable downturn of rejection swimming across his features, and the notion that you might have inadvertently let him down made you sicker than the intense wave of lust that had just crashed over you, almost crumbling you, reducing you to nothing but a star cursed to orbit a bigger, more important planet. 

#ken #ryan gosling #ken barbie #barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #ryan gosling ken #female reader

[bp-zb1fics]

hi! I love your stories! <3 do you think you could do a suggestive taerae fic?

Thinking about

pairing: taerae x reader

pronouns: none used

genre: fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: not much plot or dialogue sorry, music metaphors, introspection, very sentimental, kisses, making out, non-explicit descriptions, taerae slight demisexual implications (this in no way reflects on the real person, fiction is fiction)

wc: 871

summary: in this game called love, taerae trusts you with his heart

a/n last req done before i focus on checklist reqs! thanks so much anon, i really hope you like it! i got a little poetic with this one and played around with italics so its very soft hours but not much happens, idk if that works or not so feel free to lmk!

Check my pinned for more fics~

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

You’re sitting on the couch, his guitar on his lap, your hands in his as he traced over dip, curve and line. Pressing your palms together, skin against skin, stretching his fingers out to see if his hand is larger than yours.

“Hmmm, how your hands look next to mine.”

Being with you is never boring, in Taerae’s opinion. Because even when it seems boring to other people, there’s always something new and interesting for you or him or for both of you. He can spend afternoons with you and his guitar, strumming and singing for you until you join him. And maybe you’re not the best singer but he’ll still listen to your voice like it’s a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. (Sometimes love isn’t just blind but deaf too)

And the best part wasn’t you getting the harmony right or him hitting those impressive vocal riffs, no, it was the silly little songs you made up together, nonsensical lyrics and ridiculous ad libs that you end up laughing over. Because that’s what Taerae thinks about sometimes, when he’s about to go to bed, when he’s too tired to think of anything else. He’ll think about the way you laugh, the sheer joy of that tiny moment. There are some moments that he wished he could save in a time loop and live in.

“I love your songs.”

You tell him the day he gathered enough courage to play you something from the little notebook he keeps, lyrics and chords in his handwriting. He treasures that memory just like he treasures those days when you have enough time to sit down and talk for hours. Long conversations that stretch time so thin that it feels just like seconds ticking away.

“Play something for me, please?”

Play with my heart, Taerae thinks, because I’ve given it to you to take joy in, to keep you company on lonely days, to make you smile and laugh and remember only the innocence of life. I’ve given you my hand to hold in the playground that we call love and I trust you not to let go, not to abandon me, just as I make a promise to never leave you, to play the game of hearts until ours stop beating.

You two have a million playlists together. Each of them are a carefully curated, specifically arranged set of songs that Taerae and you create for every occasion. Birthdays, anniversaries, long drives, short drives, walks by the river, all saved to preserve the moments you spend loving each other.

There are also playlists for moments like this. Soft, sultry, dreamlike beats in the background as he lifts his guitar off his lap, places it carefully to the side and pulls you closer. His hands leave yours only to glide up your neck and cup your cheeks. 

Gentle kisses. His lips fit over yours like a missing puzzle piece. Pulling away only for a force stronger than gravity pulling them back in. Your hands holding the back of his neck. It’s a haze as he presses your back into the couch, his legs bracketing yours in between them. He only pulls away once your lips are swollen, when the need for oxygen overpowers his need to kiss you until you both feel like you're floating. Your eyes meet his and you laugh breathlessly as he smiles at you, so, so enamoured.

If he could write a song about you, it would be about love.

You tug him back down, one hand sliding into his hair, fingers in between strands. He shivers, bending down to press his lips below your ear, mapping out a path down your neck as you get a little more restless. Taerae is almost too warm and so are you. He stops at the base between you neck and shoulder, the press of his mouth a little firmer, teeth scraping over skin, tongue following as if to soothe. Your fingers are laced in his hair, your back arching just a little at the sensation. Then he pulls back, pressing kisses along your collarbones. Your hips jump just a little, brushing against him and he exhales slowly.

Taerae wasn’t really interested in girls. Or boys. Just you.

He��s interested in the way you shakily undo another button of his shirt between kisses, the way you tremble a little when his hands slide under the hem of yours, skin against skin, fingers stroking the sides of your waist. Nothing becomes more interesting than the sounds he can pull from you, the kind of music that sends jolts of heat down his spine. His favourite song is the way you call his name, sweet and wholly addictive.

In the afterglow, he can only look at you. He can only watch the way you watch him, with so much unbridled affection that his heart is bursting, spilling out the seams to show you how he feels about you. To keep showing you everyday until your heart decides to give out. And he hopes that when that day comes, that the way he chose to love you was enough. Because you were more than enough for him.

__________________________________________

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

“I don’t know…” 

“...You mostly.”

#boys planet #boys planet 999 #boys planet fics #boys planet mnet #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fics #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #kpop fics #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kim taerae #boys planet taerae #zb1 taerae #plot what plot #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae drabble #kim taerae fic #fic request #gender neutral reader #bp zb1fics

[mrkis]

okkk please let me know :) i will go off from the synopsis you have and i’ll stalk the tags lol

i just wanna ask if the vibes i’m getting from the asks that you’ve answered already are right. lmao i’m bad at explaining myself so most of these are just songs 😭😭

marks series - innocent but with a dark side. i struggle with his one 😭😭 overprotective and “i’m yours” kinda vibe. “i wanna be yours”

ynfalm - obsessive but cuteeee and in loveee and boys falls first girl falls harder maybe. nct without you but like the particular line “can’t live without you”

why you - my love mine all mine vibes, here with me, this is what falling in love feels like (and a freaky sex song) try again jaehyun, nct without you but like the particular line “can’t live without you”

the other idk 😭😭i will figure it out though and i’ll send you the final result

ok waitttt im gonna see if i can like. work my way around explaining the vibes of each fic without giving too details away abt what im wanting to happen/wanting to write down......watch me struggle lol

[ynfalm // haechan series] pretty accurate with this one lowkey !! hyuck falls for people easily and falls hard. becomes obsessive in a way. you're all he thinks abt and because hes around so much, he gets inside your head too.

[why you? // jeno series] jeno has always had a type he goes for. someone who is confident, outgoing, likes parties & sex. but he comes across you who is more reserved(you keep to yourself), you focus on your studies, perhaps a homebody, relaxed. you're basically someone who he wouldn't usually go for but you've caught his interest somehow.

[boyfren // jungwoo series] (so. this one is going to be messy. so when this comes out, everyone please check the warnings and if this doesn't seem like the fic you would like, don't read. simple.) but this is basically abt falling for your sisters boyfriend. falling for someone you can't and shouldn't have. like i said. messy. (so if you dont want to create a playlist for this, that is totally fine !!)

[something about you // mark series] (AAHHHHCANTWAIT) you're not a fan of relationships. you like to have fun and hookup with whoever is willing to do so with no feelings involved or no strings attached. but you can't get mark, the cute guitar boy from the music department, out of your head. you want him.

[f**k you // doyoung series] enemies to lovers. academic rivals type of stuff. he's very mean and selfish, always wants to get under your skin and vice versa. you hate each other. but the sex is good lol.

[moonstruck // jaehyun series] the definition to moonstuck is: unable to think or act normally, especially as a result of being in love. you're falling for the professor lol. falling for someone older basically (legal age gap, like 3-4 years apart)

#‣ [asks] #‣ [anon]

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 23: Perfect Wife

Word Count: 3.5k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, domestic abuse, pregnancy, dry heaving & gagging, restraints (rope) but like not in a sexy way, blood, injuries, idk just a lot of gross things, dissociation, birth control sabotage, kidnapping, the yellow wallpaper by charlotte perkins gilman, mice, I promise everything will be ok, ok??

Chapter Summary: We check in with our hero to see how she's doing in captivity.

Notes: Chapter title from "Perfect Wife" by Amigo the Devil. Y'all this song though... please listen. It guts me. Which reminds me, this chapter is very violence heavy, just a heads up. Another thing: next weekend I'll be out of town Fri-Sun and yadda yadda the next chapter will be out on 10/10. If I'm able to get caught up on homework before leaving, I'll post it this Thursday, but I am a procrastinator so looool we'll see. OK THANKS LETS GO TEAM!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

???, Laredo, TX July 30, 1998

When Dan opens the trunk and releases the hot, dead air that’s been percolating with you for two hours, it’s probably the most excited you’ve ever been to see him. Your pupils are so offended by the bright blue sky that your eyelids slam shut in protest as you wince. Before you can crack them open again to see where the fuck you are, he’s blindfolding you.

“Really?” is all you can say when he yanks you out of the trunk by the bend of your arm. You hiss and your knees give out as he tries to so get you to stand on your own accord. Gravel digs into your legs when you crumble into a pile on the ground.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters through gritted teeth. His hands tuck under your armpits and he pulls you up to your feet, but you go all limp noodle like a marionette. He growls now, clenching his jaw down harder, “Stand the fuck up, bitch.”

Finally you gain your footing and your knees lock in place. The darkness you’re enclosed in does not alleviate the way your brain is swirling around inside your skull. Last time you felt this dizzy, you drank about 3 too-many mixed drinks then tried to smoke a bowl. Medically speaking, you think it’s called “the spins.”

He pulls you along behind him, white-knuckling your arm as you stumble over bushes, rocks, and your own feet. You fight the urge to spew. It reminds you of when the Bakers guilt-tripped you onto going on some Alaskan cruise liner for 6 days and 5 nights, even though they know you’re prone to debilitating motion sickness. You spent the vacation locked inside the cabin and had to choose between “the spins” or that syrupy manufactured pill high from Dramamine.

The sloshy memory pulls out all the stops and you dig your heels into the dirt so you can dry-heave your empty stomach. He stops when you do, scoffing when he looks back to see what the holdup is. Once he realizes you’re puking a whole lotta nothing, he continues marching you forward towards… wherever. A house? Your death? Hell? A 6-day, 5-night all-inclusive* cruise to mother fucking Alaska (*does not include Dramamine) (*aka Hell)?

He finally takes your blindfold off after you trip through a doorway and fall to your hands and knees onto a dusty hardwood floor. You blink your eyes into focus. The place has to be at least one hundred fucking years old. There’s no furniture. You’re in an empty foyer with dingy floral wallpaper. A floorboard creaks behind you and he drops something onto the ground. All you can see is this tattered yellow wallpaper.

Did it come yellow, or is it stained yellow?

There are jangles and zips from right behind your head as he digs through (what you’re assuming is) a backpack. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, then gag when you recognize the very distinct smell of mouse piss and mothballs. It reminds you of this dumpy apartment your mom used to have.

You would spend hours tiptoeing around the living room as she slept on the couch: a snoring, disheveled blanket pile. It was the worst was when you were hungry. Breakfast time would pass, then lunch time, but you would never wake her up, because if you woke her up, she might get mad. You could have made food for yourself, but there were mice skittering around in the cupboards and you were scared to open them. That musty, woody, ammonia smell. The sound of tiny rodent claws navigating the kitchen cupboards. Your growling stomach. The nausea.

You dry heave again.

Once Dan finds what he’s looking for, he pulls it out, humming with satisfaction. His knees pop when he stands up, then pop again when he squats down to make his eyes level with yours.

Ocean blue eyes. You search each others faces, trying to find a trace of the person you thought you knew.

Nothing. They look flat.

Who are you?

He must decide the same thing, because his vacant eyes drop to the bundle of nylon rope he’s holding, and he instructs you, “Press your wrists together.”

You follow the directions. His slender fingers work away, wrapping the rope around your wrists, then ankles, then he starts on your arms. Squeezing the cord tight like a boa constrictor preparing you for consumption.

Your heart hammers inside your chest. You're bound so tight, you have to take shallow, metered breathes.

Breaking his silence, he fumes, “That’s a nice lil video you gave me, babe. It’ll be popular on the web. Shoulda installed them earlier. Coulda got a whole series, since you’n Javi obviously have no problem fucking in my house,” he yanks extra hard, digging the cord flush against your humerus, then grits his teeth as he spits, “How long, huh? How long you been fucking him?”

You say nothing, just stare over his shoulder at the wallpaper. There are no correct answers. He pushes his nose against your cheek and rasps, “Answer me, bitch, or I swear I will god I will wrap this rope around your fuckin’ throat-“

“June,” you whisper. You immediately regret telling him the truth.

He draws back and pauses. The silence and stillness with which he absorbs this information brings an electric panic to the surface of your skin. Your heartbeat is now in your throat, and you're afraid to inhale.

“June,” Dan nods once and purses his lips, glances at the ground and shakes his head. When he looks back up, he stares at your eyes but you don’t return the favor, “I should fucking kill both of you.”

You flinch and swallow hard.

With added vigor, he finishes the knot he had been working on, then stands up and walks away. A screen door slams behind you.

He leaves you there for… a while. How long? Who fucking knows.

Long enough for you to start trying to wriggle your way out of the binding. Long enough for the abrasive fibers to ignite a white hot, festering burn in the places it rubs against your flesh. Long enough for the burning to start pulling sharper, cutting, wet feelings from the burns. Long enough to lose feeling in your hands and legs completely.

When you finally look down at your hands, you gasp. Your purpled fingertips in contrast to the red, broken skin of your wrists makes your stomach churn.

Trying to distract yourself from the foreign grotesqueness of your own body, you inhale as deep as you can, then look up at the wallpaper. This dingy, torn up yellow wallpaper, adorned with delicate floral bouquets, repeated dozens of times, all across your field of vision.

Squeak-bang

You jump out of your trance and blink. The golden sun setting into the windows behind you are casting long shadows onto the wall. Your shadow is a lumpy heap, vibrating with terror. Dan's is a towering threat.

The floor whines as he starts forward and his shadow grows smaller and smaller until his presence isn’t a shadow anymore. He crouches down in front of you, doused in golden light. Splatters and streaks on his clothing. Deep, rust red and viscous. In his blonde hair. Smeared on his skin. Blood. So opaque it seems to absorb the sunlight.

Your heart stops and your stomach drops like a rock as you exhale the words, “What did you do?”

He smiles. You want to rip it off his fucking face. A fucking smile.

“What the fuck did you do? Is that blood?” you repeat, louder now. Your face betrays you, crumbling to pieces. A rabid, aching panic started to inflate inside your chest. Inside your limbs.

Could I feel my hands before? No. What about my tongue?

Your eyes betray you next, filling with hot tears. The expanding balloon of terror in your skin wills you into a frenzy as you buck against the rope that's rendering you immobile. You’re frantic, losing control, “What did you do? Is it Javi? What the fuck did you do? You can’t- no no no no -“

Nothing that was making you hurt matters anymore. Not the bloodied abrasions the nylon rope is sinking into, not the bruises on your legs, not the deep pit of hunger. It’s all eclipsed by this new, more desperate kind of hurt.

He cracks a sympathetic smile, “Oh, babe, don’t tell me-“ a giggle escapes his throat as he looks down at the floor, then back up at you. The corners of his mouth turn down in a sarcastic frown, “Don’t tell me you have feelings for him?” His fingers, sticky with blood, brush your sweaty hair from your face, and he coos in a condescending tone, “Did you love him?”

Your eyes snap to his. He can see the answer on your face, but he wants to hear you say it. The demon is lurking in his eyes again. Dead and soulless as he clamps your face in a bruising grasp, growling, “Did you love him?”

“Are you just going to pretend you don’t feel this? That you don’t want this like I do?” Javier told you on the walking trail when you tried to end it at the beginning.

Your whole body trembles as you nod, holding eye contact as tears blur your vision.

“Well that was pretty fucking stupid, wasn’t it?”

Dancing to Amor Prohibido at the bar with Gina as your audience, lighting your skin on fire as Javier guided you by the waist. A serenade only you could hear. Singing along to old country music on the radio while he tried not to burn pancakes on the best morning you’ve ever had. You felt at home for the first time. Kiss on karaoke when your love for him radiated into your bones. Dancing in your kitchen to Etta James, letting the melody slip from your lips as you sang along quietly, “ And my heart cried, ohhh- ohhhh- ohh, I love you so… ”

A noise like a gas leak, high-pitched and quiet, sounds from your deflating chest. It crescendos into a wail that sounds so foreign, so robust in its anguish, you don’t even recognize the sound as your own. Once it clears from your lungs, your chest heaves into a series of small sobs.

“No,” your voice wavers and Dan’s features harden into a warning, but you continue despite his tightening grasp on your face, “It’s not stupid, Dan,” you croak, shaking your head through your tears, “I am in love with him, an-and it’s so fucking worth it . You could never fucking understand.”

He releases your face and stands up, walking behind you. His hands wrap around your ankles and he yanks your legs out from under you. Your chin claps against the floor. An attempt to cry out comes out in a wispy croak. The foyer gets smaller as he pulls you down a hallway, opens a door, and deposits you into a closet. He slams the door shut, entrenching you in black.

Your shaky breaths echo back into your ears and you try to forget the sound as it happens. The purpled hands, the blood seeping onto the white nylon rope. Blood. The blood covering Dan. Whose blood?

A loud thud surrounds you in the darkness. And another. He drives his fist against the door over and over and seethes, “You’re really fucking testing me, babe. I don’t want to have to gut you, too. Don’t make me fucking gut you.”

I don’t want to have to gut you, too.

He doesn’t mean that. He can’t mean that. There’s no fucking way.

The blood. The fury. He was gone for so long. You imagine a thick, dark, scarlet pool growing. Blank, lifeless brown eyes. Not lifeless in the same way that Dan’s are. Lifeless as in gone.

You think about how Javier said, “I love you. I swear on my mother’s grave I will not disappear.”

Telling you he loved you in the park. Making out in the photo booth. Hand resting on your bare leg, fingers drawing sweet nothings onto your skin. Playing with your hair. Kissing your knotted wrist that was once a gaping wound.

A gaping wound. The blood on the white nylon rope. Spilling out your wrists as your father screams at you. Splattered across Dan’s clothing and hair. Deep, rust red and viscous. A pool expanding under Javier’s lifeless form.

You tip over onto your side and try to curl up in a ball, but the adrenaline pumping through you won’t let you sit still, so you writhe around miserably, voice hoarse as sobs rip from your throat.

You’ve memorized the way his lips feel against yours. Mustache tickling you. Velvet tongue. Tasting like cigarettes. Popular opinion dictates you should find the flavor appalling, but you would live in his mouth if you could. The slope of his nose. Dimpled smile. Puppy dog eyes. The potpourri of smells so uniquely him, you recognized it after five years of his absence.

All the memories that made your heart swell with happiness and love are tainted. You don’t have a home. It was ridiculous for you to ever think that you could. Gutted.

I don’t want to have to gut you, too.

The sorrow festering at the site of your emotional wound comes bursting open, and you ignore the ripping feeling in your throat as you scream out loud to the husk of a man outside the door, “I fucking hate you. I hate you, Dan. I will never fucking forgive you.”

Silence.

You always suspected this would end in some disaster. That Javier would leave, fall out of love, break your heart. It was too good. But this? This isn’t right. He can’t be-

You gag as the word passes through your mind. Then you shove it out, refusing it’s company. It’s not real. None of this is real.

Instead of grounding, being present in this moment, you hand yourself over to the comforting embrace of dissociation. Floating out of your body, settling outside yourself on a cloud made of static. Blank brain. On standby, staring into the darkness as the tears run dry. Staring for so long you forget your eyes are open, until you blink.

I wonder how many spiders are in this closet with me.

—

You don’t know how much time has passed when the doorknob rattles and the hinges groan. Air 20 degrees cooler than the stifling hot box closet rushes against your skin. A floorboard creaks and there’s a woosh as he crouches down. Blackness entrenches you. Finger pads on your shoulder.

Your skin crawls and you swallow a lump in your throat. The touch slides from your shoulder, up to your head. Mitts for hands dig into your hair. You whine when he closes his hand into a fist. He’s anchored.

His voice cuts through the silence, just a whisper, “Do you love him?”

“Even when I knew you before. I know it sounds like bullshit, but I swear to god… after I met you, almost every night while falling asleep, I would think of the beautiful woman I met in San Antonio who- who watched movies with me and made me smile and…”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He lifts your head and thrusts it against the dusty hard wood floor with a crack. Pain shoots through your face and you yelp. White fills your vision on impact.

“You fucking idiot. He would have left you. You know that, right? Guy like him?” he scoffs, “Bitches like you are a dime a dozen to him.”

You say nothing even though you want to scream that he’s wrong. He’s so fucking wrong. Crickets chirp in the distance.

“God, babe, you used a rubber at least, right?” his fingers tighten their hold. He waits for an answer. When you don’t give it to him, he growls, “Answer me.”

“She held my hand in one of the darkest times of my life. I would think about how being with her felt… like that’s how it’s supposed to be. I felt I could talk to her about anything. How the sex was fucking incredible, as if we were made for each other.”

“No,” your voice is monotone. You’re barely here. Who gives a shit. Do it.

He makes a guttural blegh, then sneers, “Who knows what kind of fucking diseases you’re riddled with,” he sighs, then softens his tone, “I was hoping we could have some fun, but… I don’t want to catch anything. Bad enough I let you suck me off a few weeks ago.”

The words “let you” ricochet around your brain, looking for you to react, but you’re still just barely here.

His mouth next to your ear now, asking quietly, “Does he know about that? That you sucked my cock? Hmm?”

You don’t answer him, so he slams your face against the floor again. A guttural moan lets itself out your throat without your permission. Tears prick your eyes and you squeak, “Yes.”

“He knows you took my dick down your throat like a fucking whore, and you think he still respects you? You think he loves you like I do?” he snorts, “If he cared about you like I do, I would be dead right now, not him.”

“I would think about how badly I fucked up by letting her go.”

You don’t say anything, because you don’t have words. You’re crying because that’s your nervous system’s response to the pain. You’re on a different planet. This isn’t real. The tears you can’t wipe away stream off your face and pool on the floor.

After his comment is met with more silence, he sucks his teeth and murmurs, “That does being up another concern, though,” louder now, and with disdain, he admits, “See, I was under the impression that my fiancé would be fucking faithful to me. And I knew that you wanted to try for kids as soon as we got married.”

No. No fucking way.

“You know, it can take months for birth control to get out of your system,” he sighs, and the exhale tickles across your shoulders, “I knew you would be resistant to the idea of cutting out birth control right now, but it wouldn’t matter if you got pregnant, because we were going to have kids anyway. Turns out, I was wrong. Which puts us in a bit of a pickle now, doesn’t it? Since you’ve been taking sugar pills for 5 months-“

“What the fuck,” you whimper, “What the fuck, why?”

“I told you why,” he chuckles, then clears his throat and continues, “Anyway, any chance you have a little baby Peña growing inside you?”

All the air is sucked from your lungs. Your nostrils flare. The fury breaks through your resolve. You wait a beat before lying through gritted teeth, “No, you fucking psycho, I am not pregnant.”

He lifts your head and cracks it on the wooden floor again. You stifle a sob as the pain ripples across your face. A warm, wet feeling starts to spread across your cheek. Not tears this time. He growls, “I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that.”

Your throat trills and your body goes rigid as he lifts you by your hair again. This time, though, he stuffs a gag in your mouth and ties it in place, then releases his grip. You exhale a shaky breath of relief when he stands up and dusts his hands off on his pants.

The door groans as he closes it again. You listen to see where he is, but his footfalls are silent. Just the occasional creak from somewhere in the old house. A reminder that he’s there.

You remember, when Claudia was pregnant with Michael, each week she would call you with this big, thick pregnancy owner’s manual and tell you all about what was going on in her body and how big he was. Once she called and told you he was the size of a banana right as you were peeling a banana. You had to throw it away.

You wonder if the baby is really the size of a little jellybean like you picture in your head.

“We named our daughter Rosemary after my mom.”

Your chest aches as you think about how it shouldn’t be like it is. Right now you should be nestled into Javier, only worried about breaking the news to him. He would probably freak the fuck out at first. Smoke like a chimney, go quiet and stoic. He would come around, though. Once the news settled, he’d find one of those baby books. He would tell you every week on the morning of, how big she is.

“I like the name Rosemary.”

“I do, too.”

Instead, you’re lying in a cramped closet in the middle of fucking nowhere, wondering if Javier is alive. Wondering if you will be alive this time tomorrow.

Will you ever see him waiting for you at the end of a wedding aisle? Wearing a black suit, smiling that wide award-winning smile, dimples and all, as he sees you in a carefully curated white dress. When will be the next time you wake up next to him, tangled in each other, still groggy from sleep, cherishing the moments until you have to roll out of bed? Is it even possible?

Will I ever see him again?

[ Next Chapter ]

#narcos #pedro pascal #javier peña #jdett #pedrostories #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #narcos fic #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javi peña #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x oc #javier pena #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic

[hdsouta]

↺ ... INTRODUCING : TRAINEE 093 ; ITO SOUTA .

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄 ▸ BORN ON MAY 11, 2003 IN NAGASAKI, JAPAN. SIGNED EXTENDED TRAINEE CONTRACT UNDER 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ON AUGUST 2020. NOTABLE SKILLSET(S) INCLUDE DANCE / VISUAL.

penned by bon for hydra labels.

CHECK OUT HIS STATS, PLAYLIST, AND PINTEREST.

hi everyone! i go by bon! i'm 25, in the est, he/she/they, and a full time student with a full time job. still, i'm sure i can be around a lot if not enough ok... also feel free to follow me on pinterest and i will follow back haha also ignore how ugly and messy my whole account is because i have too many FUUUUcking muses. thanks! i will also eventually have a playlist on spotify so tune in for that ok.

anywho, i'm here to introduce my new bean, ito souta, who i made specifically for this rp on a whim because i really wanted to join it... i've been eyeing it for a few days, so i'm so glad i got in today! well, i'll go ahead and write some stuff about him below:

basic stats.

full name: ito souta.

nicknames: soda.

age: nineteen.

birthday: may 11th, 2000.

gender: male, he/him.

quick personality tl;dr. (very original, i know.)

positive traits: supportive, cheesy, loyal.

negative traits: ruthless, vulgar, pressuring.

likes: dancing, music in general (specifically pop punk and hip hop stuff), sports (specifically basketball), pvp video games, uhm idk yall this is hard CRIES

in general, i like to think that souta is very egotistical yet somehow also very charismatic and outgoing. he probably gets annoying when he gets too far up his own ass, but it's how he deals with the hard work he puts in to be an idol without results (or so he thinks). he finds himself losing a bit of hope every new day because he's been doing this shit for so long... and with an injury he got when he had just started training, which almost impacted his future career.

in some of his very first few weeks of being accepted into the company, he fell on his shoulder doing rec activities during some down time (or however it works lmao), which gave him an injury he had to basically force himself to work through. due to this, it's definitely not healed right, but it's good enough in order to keep him thriving in the company and working towards his debut. still, it hurts on and off, and he tries his own physical therapy for it, but you know, it be hard sometimes ya feel.

uhmmm... i think otherwise he's a hotshot. i like to think he's the one that's always searched up on pinterest or when people scroll the profiles of groups, they always stop to double take him. that's part of his ego ish, because he knows he's hot shit and people turn heads at his appearance. it sometimes gets in the way of his logical thinking, but you know, he's a kid... so what do you expect?

on another note that i wanted to mention... he used to want to be a basketball player, and if he didn't go into the idol industry, he would have 100%

i'm kind of just spewing stuff and i think i will either edit this or make a new like info post whenever i get some real solid shit for him!!!

otherwise, i will say a little bit about me. i am 25, in the est tmz, prefer he or they pronouns, and you can call me bon or bonbon. the loml is ateez, and i would d*e for them in a heartbeat. i also love block b, omega x, and a few other groups. i'm always open to talking about things even if they aren't rp related! if you'd like to add me on discord, just lmk <3 i can give you my tag!

i'm going to get some FOOD now because i'm hungry and then i will reply to people as well as fish around a bit more. i can't wait to write with everyone and please excuse me if i seem a little off or don't understand jlskdf it's been a hot minute since i've been on tumblr to rp as well as been in an idol group (it's been YEARS since this one).

#intro #ummmm this is a dumpster fire im so sorry #also god bless the admins for dealing with my annoying ass im asldjkfasdhg

[aylinaliens]

BESTIE same thoughts please I loved this show so much I’m telling u rn no one was more excited about this show and loved it as much as I did shsjs I was recommending it to everyone I know, was checking the tags on socmed every hours but now I feel … heartbroken in a way because EAW had so much potential! It had crazy potential!! And of course a few bad episodes will not take away my love for YW as a character but I’m just so disappointed. I wanted this show to be like hospital playlist (if you’ve watched it) which shows the realities of life while being simple and very wholesome there’s no over the top BS in that show I was hoping EAW was going in the same direction :( we know nothing about jun Ho, the mother plot like is so poorly done, don’t even get me started on MW And SY and MYS being terminally Ill like who even does all this in the last few episodes ? Why did this get the green light I just don’t understand:( why not focus on YW and her relationships and friendships? Why not show us more of jh and yw communicating? Why not show us more of YW with her dad? What about flashbacks of YW and SY in law school together?gggrrr I just feel so sad and robbed :(

!!! YESSSS!! everything you said is a hard agree like ??? the fact that it had that much potential only to randomly veer off course is frustrating. like you said: this might not take away or erase the love we have for YW or some of the other characters but it certainly leaves a heavy feeling in our heart. because we saw what this drama could do! we did! i stand by my statement that the first half was not perfect but it felt consistent. the halfway doesn’t which is the problem!! they set up youngwoo/junho’s conflict & insecurity but the way in which it was written felt weird. almost as if they forgot to include a few scenes or something. everything that’s happening with MYS is so melodrama slash makjang like. okay. he’s sick. terminally ill. should they not have set this up earlier or showed more signs of it being more than just exhaustion? they really are teasing the whole trope where a mentor to the main character dies or nearly dies. they literally exist to inspire or further the plot along which does NOT fit in with the theme of eaw. the funny thing is they handled health problems (ex. ep 1/2 with that older man who dies) only to suddenly be like. OOPS. hehe guess what :) MYS is on his deathbed. and even if he survives at the end there’s a chance he only has 5 years in total :)

W H A T?? get out of here with that ‘realism’ that is such a bull crap life lesson. the ‘mentor/beloved character is suddenly dying’ is such a wack drama trope it feels so emotionally manipulative. i only watched half of the first season of hospital playlist so thank you for reminding me to pick it back up bUT YES!! they could have shown these realistic struggles and plot lines in a more sedated manner. you can have realism and struggles and painful plot lines with it being super..idk. overdramatic? weird. yeah it’s just weird. all these plot lines weren’t handled as well as the first half which sucks.

bestie bestie besstttieeeeee. the fact that they have so many unresolved or glaring plot holes open is frustrating. i understand that this is from youngwoo’s POV so obviously it’s gonna focus on her but…clearly they are making SY/MW and MYS plot lines important in the last half. should we not at least follow through with the 3882838 plots that already exist?? what i wouldn’t give to give all those plot lines you mentioned explored. it doesn’t help either that they always cut away during an important conversation either. they rarely tell us what was said or happened unless it’s in a throwaway like. it reeks of lazy writing…not clever writing

the characters (not including minwoo go choke 🥰) are not the issues really it’s the bad and nonsensical writing. and it hurts because YOU LOVE THESE CHARACTERS but you also kind of hate the canon they come from jcjwjxjsjd bestie the way this drama had us all in a chokehold only to clown on us so bad in the last few episodes is truly the worst kind of pain

#extraordinary attorney woo #kdrama #my ask box is permanently open venting to all of you about this is the only thing getting me through #kay answers #kay watches eaw #spoilers #eaw spoilers

[galaxy-minecart]

TELL US UR DOMINION THOUGHTS!!! who are your povs what are your headcanons what do you think of the various guys of all time are you prepared for the inevitability of getting bell noises'd etc etc

:0 !!!!!!!!!!!!

OKAY SO.

I started out with Legundo. I'd originally planned to start out with Viking ages ago but upon starting his first video I realised he came in mid-season and I had NO clue what was going on. I decided to watch Legundo first instead because uhh his name was the only other one I remembered from the few posts I'd seen.

I watched Legundo's season 1 playlist yesterday, then what exists of season 2 today. After that I started watching Viking's again and finished ep 5 before stopping for the day. As of now, the next povs I plan to watch are Fixxit, Taneesha, Grady and Sneve in that order (but uhhh given my track record of watching the majority of if not all people on the smps I keep up with I will probably watch more too).

I havent really thought of any solid headcanons quite yet mostly because I'm not aquainted with all the characters that well. The best I've got is that the whole server has a maximum of like ten braincells and they are never distributed anywhere close to evenly (but that's less of a headcanon and more just true). I'm sure better hcs will be spinning through my brain in no time tho. Also, I do think that all of them truly are the guys of all time and I am Unbelievably excited to watch more of this theyre all so fun pspsps if anyone is reading this and you havent watched any dominion smp stuff you really should please

Having watched Legundo first i am obsessed with the bell noises thing. Legundo getting jumpscared every time is so incredibly funny. Viking my beloved.

Also i just checked the ao3 tag and saw how few fics there are for dominion and it made me sad now i am planning a short fic. So that's a thing.

Idk what else to say but thank u anon pls if u have more questions or want to talk about dominion more my asks are always open and so are my messages :D :D

#Thank u for the ask !

[gimmethatagustd]

17, 18, 26 please!

OOO YOU ASKING THE DEEP STUFF. this is gonna be long, i apologize.

Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

well, i have SO MANY WIPs lol but since this question asks about lore, i'll talk a little bit about what i have so far for my upcoming series "aftercare" (if you don't know it, check out this post). "aftercare" is gonna require A LOT of worldbuilding, but i bet a lot of what i'm planning won't explicitly come through in the fic itself. it's mostly for me to conceptualize the world to prevent plot holes and shit like that

i was actually considering a post dedicated to "aftercare" lore once i start the series, but idk if that's too geeky to do lol. i'd include some info about all the different supernatural creatures in the world, the most important being Humans, Seers, and Witches. there's structural stuff, like where humans and seers live is called "the mainland" and where witches and other creatures that are considered evil (demons, vampires, werewolves) live in "beyond". and how are soul's marks bestowed? i have an entire plan for how seers are qualified to bestow soul's marks and the oath they take that prevents them from lying about people's soulmates, etc. like i wanna make the entire thing feel very clinical, as if going to find your soulmate is treated almost like healthcare. idk it's hard to explain without giving anything away!!

then there's all the stuff about soulmates. like what happens when soulmates are in poly relationships? or if your soulmate dies before you find out they're your soulmate? what if they die after you've found each other? and then there's a whole section in my notes about "tainted marks" which are a secret you will learn about if you read the series in 2023 👀

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

something from TFM 4 since i just posted it:

the city TFM takes place in is basically chicago just cuz there's where i live lollll and it's the biggest city i've ever lived in. i've always been compelled by big cities and how so many people can all coexist together, so cramped, and how we interact with people, cross paths with them without ever really knowing their full story. i wanted to use that to paint yoongi as this introverted, introspective person who thinks deeply about others and has this almost fantastical, romanticized idea of destiny, of people randomly finding each other in the wide universe

if you read the rest of the chapter, you'll see how that theme plays out 😌

How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

lmfaooo i never get out. actually, it's more like my characters are in my head and i can't make them shut up. but i think 2 ways i love getting a feel for my characters is through music (so finding them a theme song or making a playlist of songs they'd like or remind me of them) and through memes hjkdfs like i fucking love collecting memes, character inspiration, other photos/concepts that remind me of characters. for example these inspo tags: himbo tae / ohts tae / tfm yoongi

ask me some weird writer questions 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

#jai asks #ask game #tfm #aftercare #Anonymous

[ariondevereux]

Hello Nikka! Happy holidays to you. I hope you stay happy and healthy and have a wonderful start to the new year. It's nice to meet you out of anon too, I'm a bit shy and not that active on tumblr except for following a few blogs here and there so I usually prefer to stay on anon, but you seem really lovely so I felt comfortable to send an ask off anon :')). Also I just noticed that you followed me which djdjdj you're one of my fave blogs on here so I did fangirl a little bit. :)). Your Ocs are so well developed omg. I adore them all. P Martens and all the golden ROs are my comfort characters, whom I won't stop gushing over. They're so well written. And the pairing between Maya and P is absolute chefs kiss and her friendship with K is so cute. 🥰

I have way too many Ocs to keep track of and ever since I've downloaded sims 4 it hasn't gotten any better. You had a list of IF recs a while ago but I can't find it. If you could please link it it would be amazing. I've been in the biggest reading slump ever and have been looking for some new ifs to read and since u have great taste I would love to check out some or the ones your recommended. I've just been replaying golden and BDSI by the lovely Mila because idk what it is about her writing, it's just so addicting to read and reread. She has such a way with words. I honestly think she's become my favourite author at this point. 😊

Your voice is so beautiful, if you ever put your songs on Spotify or YouTube please lmk I would love to add them to my playlist. I've been listening to them on repeat. The way you craft lyrics is so genius and accompanied by your voice and the piano it's just wow! As someone who songs like a dying goat, but appreciates good music I can tell you your music is incredible! 👀

I swear idk why I write a thesis every time I send an ask to your inbox, but I hope you don't mind the length too much. 😭

From tokrev anon <33

you are literally an angel on earth 🥺 2022’s been giving me some last minute agonies but the christmas eve celebration was fun <3 i hope the holidays have been wonderful to you and that 2023 gives you a great start. you deserve it 💞💞

and i totally get you. i have so many ocs that idk what to do with right now and my golden and bdsi ocs are some of the few that i’m still able to develop especially maya. she’s so close to my heart and i’m happy you love her 🥰 also i’ve been in a reading slump too but i’ll add my recs tag in the tags so you can look through that <3

thank you omg. thank you thank you so much for still listening to my songs. pls my impostor syndrome is suddenly kicking in because i’m actually struggling to come up with even just one line that i really like so that’s something i wanna get back into and work on. thank you again for the encouragement. if i start using my yt again i can message you the link if you like <3 thank you again 🥺

and don’t worry i enjoy getting asks from you. i always smile when i see them. thank you again for this and like everything else. sending you so much love and happy holidays!! 💖

#tokrev anon #recs <3 #nikka answers

[aulupine]

One of those playlist challenges but actually tagged by a mutual this time

I see you @thunderdone Thanks for the tag! Rules: You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, and then tag 10 people. No skipping!

I much like thunder have a million fucking playlists and they all have different vibes so here's from my likes as well. Be prepared for whiplash, and no explanation because my taste is... wild xD

1. It's All Futile! It's All Worthless! - Lovejoy Wilbur, and indie-alt. Need I say more?

2. 4BLOOD - Kira, Hatsune Miku I got nothing... This can only be explained by the words: "Animation Meme Vibes".

3. Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic Literal animation memes. Uh...., that and one hell of a smarmy character/confidence booster song lmao

4. Pushing Me Away - Linkin Park A bitch do be depressed

5. Killer Queen - Mad Tsai Uh, animation, storytelling but also savage spite revenge song vibes. And if anyone knows me, they know I like my sarcastic bitch vibes probably a bit too much

6. Roses Are Red (Violets Are Blue) - Jon Caryl A bitch do be depressed 2 electric boogaloo

7. Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! at the Disco Vaguely edgy alt-pop with a hell of a sound. Idk, it's old P!atD so yeah vaguely nostalgic and has a good sound. Just... pleasing to the earbones *shrugs*

8. Hourglass - Set It Off We're just rolling through my edgy picks aren't we, goddamn! One of my "fuck it all and fight" vibe songs, when you want to wear stompy boots and tip your chin up at the world. Could accurately be described as: "everything sucks so fuck it, what else could go wrong?"

9. Until the Wolves Come Out - NateWantsToBattle It's his friggin original album, with P!atD mixed with FOB vibes, and a hint of "fuck it society won't listen so I'll make them" vibes. Good fucking shit. Not my favorite song from this album but definitely a good one! (check him out, did a lot of fandom stuff too, you've probably heard his stuff. I genuinely prefer his original stuff funnily enough tho lmao)

10. Songs for a Guilty Sadist - Crywank Blame Wilbur. Don't actually listen to this much at all, but it's what came up. I like the chords and lyrics, just not Crywanks specific version. One of those weird times I like a cover more than the OG Honorable mention: Pinch Me - Young Friend Idk alt-indie-pop kinda? Depressed but cheery, masking vibes. Love me some masking vibes.

Honorable mention 2 Electric Boogaloo: "Cosmic Dreams - Intro" - Jay Sarma, Ritorikal I like instrumental stuff, especially if it makes me feel like I'm in an edgy concept anime video, witnessing the end of the universe and the beginning of a new one, going through a metamorphosis one might say.

Conclusion: What I'm learning is that, wow I'm depressed and it *shows* xD

Tag Time! uh, Honestly I don't have 10 people I'd tag, lets try @baronazazel @littledreamsoflife @thepidgeonqueen @catzoomies @corveknight And uh, anyone else who wants to try lol. Also no req to do this and if you've already been tagged, feel free to ignore!

#music #caff talks #playlist challenge #spotify #musical whiplash #dear god #a bitch do be depressed

[smokedturtles]

Introduction post????

Hi!! I used to be on Instagram as an anime account back in the middle school (idk if y’all followed peppermint.sticks but if you did that’s me!!). I’m back on here mainly bc I want anime art but I am also open to meeting new people!!!

I have a very busy social life (full time college student, pretty outgoing etc.) so my messaging time could be delayed…here is some about me

I’m gonna keep my name out of posting for right now!! If u wanna be friends just dm me lol. I’m 19, bisexual, and majoring in Enviornmental science specifically renewable energy. Pronouns are she/her/hers. I am also in a relationship with my amazing long distance army boyfriend since February 2021!! I have a lot of interests, but public health and urban planning are some of them!! Personality I am a very empathetic kind person (will not be a doormat lol), smart, and ambitious. I joke around a lot and consider myself to be pretty caring. As for hobbies I love hanging out with my friends, partying, writing (I used to write short stories and even books but I always drop them bc I’m lazy), (maybe I’ll post snippets of what I write??), drawing (less frequent now), and tarot reading. I play piano not as frequently though. I’m also quite absorbed in my religion (which now has become modern day spirituality…quite frustrating pls stop white washing my religion) which is Hinduism and Buddhism and a big advocate on eliminating all the misconceptions and trying to bring back the power to it!! Stop calling your crystals, chakras, yoga practices and energy spirituality!! It’s Hinduism!!!

‼️PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL ANIMES THAT HAVE NOT CAUGHT UP TO THE MANGA. PLEASE TAG IF THERE ARE SPOILERS. ESPECIALLY AOT. I DO NOT READ MANGA.‼️

An extensive list of my animes I have watched can be found on my anime list (the website)! My username is andimhome (I’m attaching a link). There you will see my interests. I update it frequently. But… top 3 have got to be (and this was a hard list) Sakik K, AOT, and steins gate!!

My favorite movie is Spirited Away!! I’m trying to watch all of the Studio Ghibli movies!!

I am also into vocaloids, or getting back into them I should say!! Favorite one is Rin <3 I know it’s basic to say my favorite songs are the daughter of evil series, but I don’t care because they are!!

Sometimes I might go into small rants or tangents on here to vent, probably won’t like often, once in a blue moon. But just an FYI!!

I have such a wide music taste and I will always send you my playlists if you need it!! Some artists I like (not limited to at all): Uzi, Travis Scott, Kanye, Drake, Suicide Boys, Lil Peep, TV girl, Mitski, RKS, Eden

That’s it!! I hope we can be friends!!

#anime #introduction #anime intro #anime community #studio ghibli #vocaloid #enviornment #author #writerscommunity #writing

[zorilleerrant]

Thank you for tagging @batri-jopa <3

Tag some amount of people you'd like to get to know better

3 ships / first ship ever: the very first ship I had (without really understanding what ships were) has got to be Bert/Ernie. I just read them as a married couple and I liked that! I didn't know that I was doing anything! but if it's the first ship I read content for that was Spike/Xander, the first one I wrote for was H/D, the first one I actively sought out content for was Clex I think. (around the same time would've been Mal/Simon and Jack/Spot/Dave but those are rarepairs so I didn't do much with them.)

my current top 3 ships aren't going to make any sense to anyone but me, so check back in after a few days. but for the record they're Ratthi/Three, Master/Gray, and Almond Cookie/Lilac Cookie, if anyone really wants to know

last song: something on the '90s Rock playlist idk I'm not paying too much attention when I put music on

last movie: Incredibles II. people hyped it up so much at the time that I got worried about watching it and then I just forgot, but I finally got around to seeing it. the characters are still just as cute but I didn't think it was as good as the original.

currently reading: Murderbot Diaries. I've been rereading them in a loop since I first finished them and I'm still enjoying it and not going to stop any time soon. I'm also reading a translation of Beowulf and I hate it and I'm thinking of starting a new hobby of complaining about translations of Beowulf

currently watching: Ugly Betty (US). I rewatch this from time to time. not everything aged well, but I really appreciate the effort they went to in being supportive. the characters are very important to me and also I really enjoy the soundtracking

currently consuming: fancy new tea that's whisky flavored (but the smell comes through a lot more clearly than the flavor)

currently craving: couscous. I can never figure out the right things to put in it that restaurants do so it never quite hits what I'm looking for when I have it at home

Not tagging anyone because I know ships have been annoying a lot of people lately, but if you've been enjoying shipping, please, tell me about your journey with it!

#look i said something