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#trying out a new format on my videos

lifehacksthatwork · 1 year

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Just a bunch of Useful websites - Updated for 2023

Removed/checked all links to make sure everything is working (03/03/23). Hope they help!

Sejda - Free online PDF editor.

Supercook - Have ingredients but no idea what to make? Put them in here and it'll give you recipe ideas.

Still Tasty - Trying the above but unsure about whether that sauce in the fridge is still edible? Check here first.

Archive.ph - Paywall bypass. Like 12ft below but appears to work far better and across more sites in my testing. I'd recommend trying this one first as I had more success with it.

12ft – Hate paywalls? Try this site out.

Where Is This - Want to know where a picture was taken, this site can help.

TOS/DR - Terms of service, didn't read. Gives you a summary of terms of service plus gives each site a privacy rating.

OneLook - Reverse dictionary for when you know the description of the word but can't for the life of you remember the actual word.

My Abandonware - Brilliant site for free, legal games. Has games from 1978 up to present day across pc and console. You'll be surprised by some of the games on there, some absolute gems.

Project Gutenberg – Always ends up on these type of lists and for very good reason. All works that are copyright free in one place.

Ninite – New PC? Install all of your programs in one go with no bloat or unnecessary crap.

PatchMyPC - Alternative to ninite with over 300 app options to keep upto date. Free for home users.

Unchecky – Tired of software trying to install additional unwanted programs? This will stop it completely by unchecking the necessary boxes when you install.

Sci-Hub – Research papers galore! Check here before shelling out money. And if it’s not here, try the next link in our list.

LibGen – Lots of free PDFs relate primarily to the sciences.

Zotero – A free and easy to use program to collect, organize, cite and share research.

Car Complaints – Buying a used car? Check out what other owners of the same model have to say about it first.

CamelCamelCamel – Check the historical prices of items on Amazon and set alerts for when prices drop.

Have I Been Pawned – Still the king when it comes to checking if your online accounts have been released in a data breach. Also able to sign up for email alerts if you’ve ever a victim of a breach.

I Have No TV - A collection of documentaries for you to while away the time. Completely free.

Radio Garden – Think Google Earth but wherever you zoom, you get the radio station of that place.

Just The Recipe – Paste in the url and get just the recipe as a result. No life story or adverts.

Tineye – An Amazing reverse image search tool.

My 90s TV – Simulates 90’s TV using YouTube videos. Also has My80sTV, My70sTV, My60sTV and for the younger ones out there, My00sTV. Lose yourself in nostalgia.

Foto Forensics – Free image analysis tools.

Old Games Download – A repository of games from the 90’s and early 2000’s. Get your fix of nostalgia here.

Online OCR – Convert pictures of text into actual text and output it in the format you need.

Remove Background – An amazingly quick and accurate way to remove backgrounds from your pictures.

Twoseven – Allows you to sync videos from providers such as Netflix, Youtube, Disney+ etc and watch them with your friends. Ad free and also has the ability to do real time video and text chat.

Coolors – Struggling to get a good combination of colors? This site will generate color palettes for you.

This To That – Need to glue two things together? This’ll help.

Photopea – A free online alternative to Adobe Photoshop. Does everything in your browser.

BitWarden – Free open source password manager.

Just Beam It - Peer to peer file transfer. Drop the file in on one end, click create link and send to whoever. Leave your pc on that page while they download. Because of how it works there are no file limits. It's genuinely amazing. Best file transfer system I have ever used.

Atlas Obscura – Travelling to a new place? Find out the hidden treasures you should go to with Atlas Obscura.

ID Ransomware – Ever get ransomware on your computer? Use this to see if the virus infecting your pc has been cracked yet or not. Potentially saving you money. You can also sign up for email notifications if your particular problem hasn’t been cracked yet.

Way Back Machine – The Internet Archive is a non-profit library of millions of free books, movies, software, music, websites and loads more.

Rome2Rio – Directions from anywhere to anywhere by bus, train, plane, car and ferry.

Splitter – Seperate different audio tracks audio. Allowing you to split out music from the words for example.

myNoise – Gives you beautiful noises to match your mood. Increase your productivity, calm down and need help sleeping? All here for you.

DeepL – Best language translation tool on the web.

Forvo – Alternatively, if you need to hear a local speaking a word, this is the site for you.

For even more useful sites, there is an expanded list that can be found here.

#life hacks #lifehacks #useful #bunch of useful sites #ysk #bookmark this #how to #free #helpful

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

#pluralistic #enshittification #shitty technology adoption curve #cpcm #interoperabiltiy #comcom #adversarial interoperability #interop #netflix #family #ambiguity #digitizatio #nym wars #authorized domain #dvb #dvds #password sharing

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hauntedrain · 2 months

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Part 1: Unexpected | Max Verstappen x Fem Reader |

mixed Social media AU summary: Max stumbles upon a twitch streamer who peaks his interest

✮▹A/N: Love you guys and thank you for 1,000 notes on my last post but also 100 followers! love you guys

✰▹Warnings/Notices: Used random names for readers friends, also i really didnt know how to format this tbh so might be a bit weird and make no sense. NOT EDITED.

Part 2: Here!

liked by 25,456 others

@Y/N: Stream was lovely today, sorry for missing the last stream. love you guys and see you on the weekend! ALSO new video out on YouTube with Theo and Lorelei.

Y/N has posted a youtube video!

YouTube transcript!

Y/N: Its actually really pretty out today, I expected it to be a little more gloomy. But its rather sunny out.

Lorelei: Why are you talking like that?

Y/N: What do you mean? Just because you still talk like a 5 year old doesn't mean I have to stay on your level.

Lorelei: Anyways...

Theo: Did you hear that they're planning an f1 race here?

Y/N: F1? Like the vroom vroom thing you like?

Lorelei: PLEASE the vroom vroom thing.

Y/N: I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS!

Theo: Yes the vroom vroom thing. Anyways yea they're planning it.

Lorelei: What team do you like?

Theo: McLaren. you?

Lorelei: Maybe Redbull or Ferrari.

Y/N: Preferably I like the one thats winning. so...

Theo: Redbull.

Y/N: got it.

Y/N: I wanted to buy this coat from down the street from my apartment but it was like $150. At that time I really thought about where and if I should find a rich man to marry.

Lorelei: F1 drivers are rich.

Theo: Like rich rich, mainly the popular and good ones but thats besides the point.

Y/N: As much as you guys try im not gonna get into F1. And also why is this video just you guys insulting me over not knowing anything.

Theo: We just think you'll like it.

Y/N: Cars going in a circle for 2 hours? Would rather watch football

Lorelei: But you like football.

Y/N: Yeah thats my point?

Max Verstappen has gone live!

Max Verstappen has ended the stream!

Liked by Max verstappen & 32,345 others

@Y/N: Why are people tagging me in F1 stuff? And whos Max verstappen? HELP.

user8: LMFAO MAX IN THE LIKES. THIS POOR GIRL.

user9: I think you should do a reaction video or stream to everything.

↪ user10: she would need Theo and Lorelei for help.

user11: MAX CAN TELL YOU.

↪ Y/N: WHO TF IS MAX?

↪ Lorelei: Babe please come to my room. I'll explain everything.

↪ user12: MAKE A VIDEO OUT OF IT PLEASE OR STREAM IT.

↪ Y/N: Will do?

Y/N has gone Live!

titled: HELP ME.

⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: Guys im deeply sorry if this makes no sense and everything is confusing. IDK what im doing. but love you guys and I hope you enjoyed.

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ssavaart · 2 months

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3...2...1... DEPRESSION!

Hi All!

Can we talk about how quickly we can become depressed when we try new things and they don't work out?

I have been doing short videos (vertical and under a minute) for almost 4 years now and I wanted to try and move to a long form format (horizontal and about 3-5 minutes) this year.

Yesterday, I made a video, that took me all day to make, about Drawing Eyes.

I tried to make it as clear as possible and I was very proud of it (I even referenced the Death Star too).

I posted it around dinner time and walked away.

I came back to the worst performing video of my life.

I have made over 1,000 videos and THIS was the worst performing video... EVER.

Not only was it performing so bad but YOUTUBE kept sending me NOTES on HOW BAD IT WAS!

WHY????

And instantly... I went into a depressive state.

"Why am I even doing this?"

"I'm the worst"

"I'm going to be making Shorts forever"

I'm 55. I've tried new things SO many times and failed at them SO many times.

I've been through this before and... survived.

But despite that.... I STILL get depressed when things don't go according to plan.

Is this an Autism thing? Is it an Artist thing?

Or is this a HUMAN thing?

I'm still trying to figure it out, my friends.

But needless to say... yesterday's "experiment" really took the wind out of my sails and I'm still recovering.

As always... I want to share the triumphs and tragedies of being an artist. I try to share moments like this so you know you are NOT alone.

Artists bare their soul to the world and it hurts when an algorithm or critics or trolls piss all over your work. Your soul.

I'm hoping that by talking about it... we can feel... not so alone in our journey.

At least that's the hope.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

PS. It was SO BAD, apparently, I LOST viewers!

#art #artists on tumblr #depression #being an artist #being autistic #youtube

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borathae · 1 month

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↳ Full Art

"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."

Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs

The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips.

You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.

He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there.

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly.

He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.

You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.

What made him so goddamn needy?

One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.

What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage?

What did it to him?

“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.

Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.

Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.

“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.

He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.

“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.

“Help me.”

You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.

“Sorry?”

“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you.

“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.

He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.

You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes.

Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.

He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours.

“I was bad”, he breathes.

“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.

“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Punish me.”

“Punish you?”

“Please.”

You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters.

Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.

“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.

He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.”

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”

“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.

“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.

He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.

You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.

Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze.

“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.

He is tender there. Just as you said.

And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.

You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.

“Look at me.”

Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.

“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”

He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”

“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.

Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.

“No, no look at me.”

Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.

“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”

“I have to cum”, he moans.

“Cause you’re looking at me?”

He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”

“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.

“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”

“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”

“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.

“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.

“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist.

It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”

“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.”

“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits.

“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.”

“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.

“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.

“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”

Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process.

He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough.

“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you.

“One more, kitten. Give me one more.”

“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.

You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.

“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.

“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.

You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before.

“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time.

Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.

“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back.

He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing.

He is so pretty.

“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time.

“Yours”, he croaks.

“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”

“You’re making me cum.”

“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”

“Knee. Please.”

You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.

He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.

“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.

Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.

“No more.”

You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.

“Stop.”

You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.

“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.

“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.

“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.

You hug him back, tracing his spine.

“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.

He nods his head slowly, humming.

“Yeah? Was it good for you?”

“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”

“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”

He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”

You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“I actually wanna lie down though.”

You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.

“And ear rubs.”

“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”

“Good. Nice.”

“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.

He nods his head, “hm.”

“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.”

Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.

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signedkoko · 2 months

Note

You are such a sweetie! Since your requests are open, if you feel inspired and motivated by this (otherwise you can 100% ignore it, writing is hard - I know), could I request a one-shot for Vox who falls in love with a imp!reader? Would love to see how you write their "forbidden" love, how would Vox feel and what if the other Vee's found out about it. It doesn't have to be a story, you can do it in headcannon format if you feel like it suits better! Just try to have fun ♡ -Nia

Intern [Romantic]

In which the techy overlord falls for one of his new hellborn employees, much to his dismay. Reader is genderneutral.

Song - Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Any hellborn would die for the opportunity that graced you. Well, graced was not the right word; you fought for months against many candidates, beefed up your resume, and pulled some strings to get an unpaid internship for the Vee's. More specifically, a three-month internship at VoxTek with the potential to be hired in immediately after.

It was a position people could only dream of, especially hellborn. Sinner-based companies had a tendency to place sinners above hellborns, but you knew that and used it to your advantage. You couldn't go in as equal; you had to know you were less and make up for it.

The job itself wasn't all that bad, either. It was a lot of unpaid hours, from the crack of dawn to the dip of the sun or later, but it mostly involved the small details. Coffee, sorting, and delivering mail between sections were hard to mess up.

There was the rare extra task where someone messed up and they needed someone to cover quickly.

Today was one of those days. You were at the right place at the right time, sitting by the coffee machine, grabbing yourself your first cup of the day.

That was when he entered, his shoes tapping on the floor with confident clicks, and when he spoke it commanded attention.

Mostly because he spoke through every speaker in the building at once.

"Who here can follow me? No questions asked."

Before anyone could chime in, his monitor did a full rotation of the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on you.

Your ear piece buzzed to life.

"You, follow me. Now." The overlord spoke directly into your ear using the device, and knowing this may be an opportunity of a lifetime, you followed.

There was no question about who it was: a monitor for a head, control of all technology, and a towering seven feet tall. Vox was the top of the top, and it was hard to believe you were allowed to so much as stand next to him.

It was hard to keep up with his speed-walking pace, but he eventually led you into the mail elevator, hitting the twelfth floor while he muttered something about incompetence amongst hires and how he always had to take control of every production if he wanted it done right.

With a ding and the slow release of the elevator doors, he took the lead once more, though this time he was walking slower and backwards, navigating with ease despite looking directly at you.

"Alrighty intern, ready for your shot at becoming something more? Because our previous voiceover person just walked out on us, and now you'll be covering for them." He stopped with his back against a door, grabbing the handle and awaiting your reply.

"But I only just spoke to..."

"You're cute, you know that? How many videos do you think are out there with your voice? I listened to them all the moment I saw you." Vox only smiled wider when his words sunk in; he saw the usual flash of embarrassment as you pondered what he might have seen. Without waiting any longer, he pushed the door open, spinning so he was finally walking normally.

It was a recording studio, and there were several other employees waiting, mostly those handling the recording equipment and some holding papers.

Vox sat himself in a comfortable rolling chair in front of the glass window that overlooked the recording studio, spinning to hand you some papers that he took from a demon next to him.

"Here is your script; all you have to do is read. Make it sound exciting! Something new, something beyond anyone's imagination, is now available to the public!" He put on a voice as he continued, demonstrating what he hoped you could manage. Someone ushered you into the booth and plopped some headphones over your ears.

"From the top! 3...2..."

The whole process was a thrill, but you managed to run over the script in three separate recordings, of which Vox cited them all as 'stunning' or 'absolutely perfect!', though the producer claimed to need multiple for any potential recording malfunctions.

For an overlord, he had been oddly kind and encouraging throughout the process, and he walked you out himself when everything wrapped up.

Vox continued to speak about what the script was for and how excited he was for the launch, all while leading you through parts of the building you had never been to before. You thought after that he would have sent you back down and forgotten everything, but eventually you found yourself in front of your supervisor.

"Vox! Sir- oh no, had our intern upset you?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, what was your name again? Ally? Yeah, listen, Ally, I need you to handle the paperwork they were assigned. Oh! And I want them promoted to my personal studio for tomorrow, too."

Before you or the sinner could ask questions, Vox was already out of there, chipper as ever.

That evening, you went home with an upgraded badge and access card, along with details on your new position and expectations. It was a lot to get through, but you felt extremely proud of yourself for doing so well. Hell, you met THE Vox, and he wanted you to be the voice of VoxTek?

While flipping through the pile of information, the most surprising aspect was the six-figure salary you were about to get started on.

. . .

Surrounded by monitors, Vox watched various camera feeds as they traced your steps home. Vox saw you smile from several angles, the electricity between his antennae flickering. Each monitor had some kind of file or piece of information on you, and he was only pulled out of his trance when he got a call from Velvette.

"Hello there, Velvette! What can I help you with today?" Leaning back in his chair, the overlord flicked his wrist, which shot the call from his monitor onto one of the many others displaying you.

"I need your guys for a sh- wait. Vox, what the fuck is all of that?" While the fashionista originally had her eyes elsewhere, her gaze quickly fixed on his background, which was quickly followed by all the screens going blank with his logo.

"That? Oh, oh no, its nothing at a-"

"That's the imp you were talking about last week! The one you were trying to get to apply to VoxTek!"

"Well, maybe, but-"

Once again, she cut him off with a gurgling groan.

"Listen, I don't care who or what you fuck; just get your camera crew here and we'll talk about this later. Kay? Kisses!" Before she abruptly hung up on him, he could have sworn he heard a small 'at least they're hot' before the call disconnected.

Tensed from the interaction, Vox could only groan and dramatically fall back into his chair, tapping his claws along the armrest.

So what if he scouted you out? You didn't know that, and you were happy about it anyway! One by one, each monitor opened back up on your data, the overlord grinning.

It was better this way; everyone would think it was the intern going after him, so nobody knew one of the top overlords in hell was dotting on some helpless imp.

Author's Note - I love Vox so much...hes so obsessive but he denies every accusation (its the same w Alastor lmao) like its going to hurt him! But thank you so much for the request Nia, I hope this interests you 🖤

Word Count - 1,219

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.

Word count: 2,072

Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years

Master list link:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.

Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.

Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.

"Yes, we will." she confirmed.

"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."

Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.

"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.

"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.

"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"

"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."

"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.

"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"

Alastor's grin widened.

"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."

"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.

Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.

"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"

"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.

"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.

"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.

He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.

"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.

"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."

Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.

"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."

"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.

"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"

"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.

----

"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."

Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.

"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.

The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.

"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"

Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.

Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.

"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"

"Yeah?" Husk grunted.

"Where did you say she was again?"

"I didn't."

Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.

"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Husk sighed.

"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."

"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.

"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."

"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."

Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.

"Alastor, ju-"

Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.

Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.

Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.

"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.

"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.

"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"

With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.

Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.

There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?

----

Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.

Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.

The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.

She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.

"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."

Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.

"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.

"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.

"Get your ass out here!"

"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"

"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.

If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.

"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."

----

Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion

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voonroo · 3 months

Note

Hi!!! I’m currently on a Hazbin hotel hyper fixation and it’s not funny, but I saw your requests were open and I need to fill a void.

May I please have Vox with an overlord reader who can separate parts of their body. Like they can take off their skin and just jump around as a skeleton. Or maybe is Rosie is hungry they just take off some of their muscle and go “here it’ll grow back”. Weird I know but I thought it was cool!

Thanks and totally ok if not!!!

It's Just Regeneration. Oh.

⌐‣Vox x Overlord Reader REQ.

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: AKSKSKAKA I ADORE YOUR WRITING-

(I was 👻 anon on my alt-)

I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSS!!! YOURE ALSO MY FIRST REQUEST—🥳 You didn't specify what format you wanted soooo I just went with a basic drabble? Idek if this qualifies as a drabble I'm still trying to figure out the differences even after being on this app for over a year… ALSO MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR VOX SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

Vox probably first met you in an Overlord meeting.

At first, he paid no mind to the new presence, assuming you were just another new face that may fall before too long.

But he was just delighted to find out you would last long enough to make a memorable impression.

Even if that memorable impression was you literally tearing off a chunk of your own flesh to pass it over to Rosie sitting next to you after the woman had quietly stated that she was growing hungry.

“Oh, it will grow back.” God damn. No wonder you've managed to last.

Since then, he's been keeping an eye out on you. With you being able to regenerate and be unfazed by losing parts of your physical body- which, you only get one of btw- he deemed you a possible strong opponent. (or a great ally)

He started to keep tabs on you, as one does. This was how he found out just how you quickly rose through the ranks.

He would be wary of you, but he wouldn't outright avoid you like he tries does to do with Alastor.

One time he was doing some stalk-scrolling, and saw a video of you literally shedding your skin and your skeleton turning toward the camera before the video cut.

His expression after seeing that was a silent eyebrow raise in quiet shock. Your little regeneration thing you had going on- he didn't know it could go to that extent.

After seeing that- there's a 50/50 chance that he’ll either bring it up in hopes of maybe blackmailing you to get you on his side (most overlords do not enjoy the fact that someone knows how they kill) or just stare at you in silence during the next overlord meeting. Kinda hoping you'd just shed your skin.

But deep down he knows the latter won't happen.

He’ll just have to chat with you himself. Who knows, maybe you'll become a valuable asset.

Word Count: 330 (this feels too short)

Inbox is open!!

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satoruhour · 4 months

Text

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

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jeonghantis · 11 months

Note

hehe since ur requests are open, is it okay to request a scenario with joshua? i've been missing him tons lately ahdhsq

how do you think he would deal with getting all pent up when he's overseas or touring around while his s/o is back home? would he prefer sexting, phone sex, or a full on video call 😭

ofc you can choose to ignore this if it's too much dw !!

✧ — MENACE! (h.js)

PAIRING ⇝ hong jisoo x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut, idol!joshua.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader but with female parts & wears lingerie, use of the petname "baby", explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 2.4k words.

note: kai.. :) here’s the thing, i do think with joshua would be up for any of those but sexting would probably be the most used out of them all. but here's a little peek into the development from sexting to video calls. i hope this'll help lift ur mood a lil. ♡ i hope you all enjoy! and and god i wish i could better format the texts but i hope it's not too confusing!

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit warnings under the cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sexting, filmed masturbation (f & m), use of rabbit vibrator (f), pillow humping (m), squirting, cum shot, wap (wet ass pussy) reader, spit as lube, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of penetrative sex, alludes to dom!shua (he can be cruel and teasing :) )

Joshua saw red.

It was not out of anger. It was much on the contrary.

Red lingerie. New red lingerie laced itself around your body, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You sat on the edge of your bed with legs spread wide and the flimsy excuse of a thong you wore left little to his imagination. There was a smug expression on your face, and in your hand was something he recognized with ease. It was a violet rabbit vibrator, a gift he had given you and one he had intended to use on you himself.

Joshua saw red, a little bit of it now out of anger, for this image of you was not happening in real time before him, but on the tiny screen of his phone.

My Love: hi, darling! by the time you see this, you must be so exhausted from your concert. i could not be more proud of you for working as hard as you do :(( so i thought i might reward you <3

My Love: Sent a video.

Joshua didn't waste any more breaths and pressed play.

“Hi, baby,” your voice floats immediately from the phone speakers and fills the air of his much too empty hotel room, tone sultry and lilted. You were smiling and waving around the vibrator in front of the camera. “I thought you’d like to see me try out your gift for the first time.”

“Well, shit.” Joshua lets out a baffled laugh and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his legs wide as if to alleviate the building pressure between them. He could pull his sweats down, but thought better of it. He might have much better plans after.

Keen and hungry eyes watch your every movement. It’s unfaltering when you pull your thong to your side and bring the toy to your cunt already slicked and glistening to which Joshua could assume you had prepped yourself beforehand with your own fingers and the imagery didn’t help his waning sanity. As you begin to tease yourself and rub the blunt tip all over your slit, he catches a glimpse of your fluttering hole, grasping desperately at nothing. He remembered once how he had laughed at the sight, at your mewling, when he had denied you of your orgasm after fingering you so close to the edge. He had laughed again when he sheathed his cock inside you not long after, feeling that delicious pulse of your warm channel around him.

Joshua was very far from laughing now.

You finally slip the toy inside, and a long, strained moan is pulled from your lips. It looked like a tight fit and his eyes twitched at the thought and how it was just a thought to him. But he was proved correct when he caught the tremble of your thighs, your chest rising and falling with choppy breaths. And yet despite it, you’re still continuing to push the entire length of the toy inside until the handle is the only thing left protruding out of you. Regardless of the obvious discomfort twisting your features and the sweat beading along your hairline, there’s still a wicked curl of lip when you look back up at the camera, a flicker of pride, of challenge, in your darkened gaze. It stirred something warm deep in his guts.

Then, he hears a faint click, a buzz, and another moan right out of you.

Time was a muddled construct from then on.

Joshua only watched you fuck yourself with his gift, watched you slowly lose yourself over some mere piece of silicone. At some point, you fell flat on your back and he’s dismayed by your hidden face, but easily distracted when your feet prop themselves up wide apart, sole flat on the mattress. Now, he’s blessed by a much clearer and utter sinful view of how well your puffy cunt swallows up the toy, it becoming a blur of violet as it pumps in and out at a quickening pace.

And the fucking sounds. It was so wet. You were so wet, the squelches echoing in his ears with every other thrust made. More than that, your incoherent moanings had slowly formed into words—some swears, others pleas, but what rang deep in his bones were the airy mutterings of his name.

“Joshua,” you groan during one particularly hard thrust made.

He chewed on his bottom lip hard.

“S-Shua!” you cried, sharp and high, when your hips jerked up into the toy.

He threw a palm against his crotch.

Then it all ends too soon.

With a shattered wail, you yank the vibrator out of you and a gush of clear fluids spurt right out. You’re a whimpering mess. A hand reached down to rub fast circles on your clit as you wade through your pleasure, your lower frame stuttering up into it, your legs maddened with violent tremors. His name continues to fall out of your lips like a breathy mantra, like it was the only word you knew.

Joshua clicks his phone shut, places it on the table, and takes in a breath.

“Fuck.”

You might have pushed him too far with this, but in all fairness, your beloved, ever-so-sweet, and loving boyfriend Joshua has been nothing short of an absolute menace of a man since he had left for tour. Very often since his departure, nearly every single day, he has plagued you with texts filled with his lewd thoughts. You did love it, of course you did when it showed that Joshua still thought of you often and felt your absence just as much you did with his. But with the time difference, while he texts you during his evenings, you’d receive it in the mornings where you’d be drowning in your schedules.

shua! ♡ : You’re working?

shua! ♡ : What a shame :(( i was going to talk about how i want to fuck your tight little pussy just now :((

It still didn’t stop him from describing the imagery with very explicit details.

The days of missing him grew even more unbearable. You knew Joshua found delight in this and was probably cackling away in his hotel bed at your frustrations. But you also knew despite the front he puts up, Joshua was just as sexually repressed and wound up as you, or he wouldn't have bothered with this stint. Why not try to play him at his own games?

So, you did. A free day came in your schedule and you bought some new lingerie sets and shot your little video with Joshua's gift that lay unused in a drawer. You had your fun playing with yourself, imagining it was Joshua himself fucking your tight little pussy open. You were very pleased with yourself when you sent the video off, then you went on about your day like normal, or as normal can be with anticipation a steady simmer in your stomach.

Then came his response.

shua! ♡ : You think you can get away with this? :)

you: i have no idea what you’re talking about :) it’s a gift to repay you for your gift!

shua! ♡ : Sent a video.

shua! ♡ : Here’s to repay you for your repayment :)

you: ..oh no

The thumbnail of his video was less crude than yours. It was a full view of his unmade hotel bed. Joshua was nowhere in sight. Somehow this was a little more nerve wracking than your stunt.

With a pounding heart, you pressed play.

It’s eerily silent for the first few seconds, you could practically hear your own pulse thundering in your ears. Then there’s a rustle, a sigh, then Joshua comes into frame. He greets the camera with that sweet smile of his as he climbs up his bed. A black muscle tee fitted around his sculpted body, his toned biceps on full display. Then below –

Joshua wore absolutely nothing down below—no pants, not even underwear. His dick stood proudly, curved and bumping against his stomach.

A knowing, smug expression crosses his face as if he could see you through this video, and he takes his position, kneeling right in the middle of the bed.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” he said before spitting right into his hand. “Was the toy any better than my dick? Did it satisfy you?”

You let out a shaky breath just as he did too when his long fingers wrap around himself. He lathers the length of him in his own saliva and spares a little more every now and then, letting a string of spit thread down directly from his lips. You were too familiar with the gradual rhythm he set, with how his wrist twists a little more forcefully when he reaches the tip. It was the set of movements he particularly liked, the one that’s quick to pull airy grunts from him.

I could survive through this, you think to yourself, pressing your thighs together to temper the growing ache in between. You’ve given him handjobs before to expect what expressions would come about, what noises he'd come to make. This was fine.

But Joshua reaches for a pillow, and now you think all is doomed. This was absolutely far from what you were expecting. This explained the angle in which the camera was set up.

“It’s sad that I don’t have anything to replace you,” he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and places the pillow before him. “But I will have to make do.”

With growing horror (delight?), you watch with wide eyes as Joshua leans himself down, leveraging himself up with his arms, and starts to rut down against the cushion.

“y/n,” your lover grunts out. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Joshua lifts the bottom of his shirt up to bite on, revealing the chiseled lines of his torso, before he’s easing himself down until he’s laying flat on stomach. His thrusts are shallow, the muscles of thigh twitching and straining, and so are his breaths, muffled but gradually rising in volume. The pinkish tip of him peeks from where it's wedged in between and rubbing up against his hardened stomach, and you catch just the faintest rivulet leak from its slit, slipping down and staining the pillow’s white casing.

The pressure was soon not enough, you knew. The rising frustration was evident in how often he adjusts his position and the pillow, and how deeper and urgent his grinds became.

"Who am I kidding?" Joshua says with a dry laugh, pulling the shirt off of him and shucking it into an unknown corner of his room. "Nothing will come close to how your cunt feels around me."

Your core gives a euphoric throb at that and you press a palm against yourself with the softest sigh slipping from your lips.

Joshua, in the seemingly hopeless face of it all, is still trying anyway, seeking for some pleasure in this measly, soft thing. There had been a moment where you had thought he had given in when he sat back up and wrapped his hand around his throbbing girth again; perhaps he really had when he looked absolutely lose in the fast, blissful strokes made by the tight ring of his fingers. With fluttering eyelids and head thrown back, the first, more earnest moans falls from his lips, and before you thought he might be reaching a new high, Joshua drops back down on the pillow and rides the hell out of it once more, pursuing that same pace his hand had.

It was rare to see this frustrated desperation from him ever. Oh, how you loved to see how quickly his cool composure falls apart, ravaged the sight of his trembling body and sudden incoordination of all his limbs. Yet even with this smugness, you absolutely could not help this tang of envy that came with it, the longing ache for him only burrowing deeper. You wished you could witness this in real life, wished you felt his desperation thrusting inside you. You missed the warmth of his body, missed him.

Just how fucking long was this tour again? Holy shit.

You had been too distracted by your own yearning that you almost missed Joshua coming undone. It's his loud groan that yanks your focus back to the screen—loud groans of your name.

"I'm so close, fuck -" Joshua rambles on and scrambles to perch himself back up on his hands so you're given a full view of length gliding along heedlessly against the cushion, his hips stammering and losing rhythm. "I n-need you so bad, y/n. You have no idea how much I need you right now. Fuck, I miss you so bad. I'm going to come. I'm going to - "

Your name is punched out of his chest when white spurts out from his twitching cock. The spasms of his muscles were so visible, with each quaver gushing a little more of his cum out, the stain on the pillow only spreading from there. And Joshua is still riding out this high with languid ruts, coating his girth in his own glistening fluids until he gradually softens up.

After a few panted breaths from him, Joshua draws back and sits on his legs. He takes a moment to inspect the sight of his own mess, then his head tilts up at the camera and a tired smile pulls his lips. For a single beat, you stare at each other and even though you actually weren't, you still felt the weight of his gaze, a ripple of something crawling down your spine. Without any word but with that continuing smile, Joshua moves for his phone and shuts it off, leaving you in the deafening silence of your bedroom.

you: holy fuck, joshua.

shua! ♡: Yeah? You liked it? :)

you: absolutely not

shua! ♡: ?

shua! ♡: What really?

you: i absolutely loved it

shua! ♡: Could you maybe not do that? I was so fucking nervous the whole time

you: aw, my baby nervous? :(

shua! ♡: ...Yeah okay.

you: hehe :) i love you

shua! ♡: And I love you

shua! ♡: I have some thoughts though :)

you: oh no. STILL?!

you: WERE THOSE VIDEOS NOT ENOUGH?!

shua! ♡: Not at all :D

shua! ♡: Do you want to hear it?

you: fine

shua! ♡: Sent a link

shua! ♡: I bought you this :)

you: is this

you: a long distance vibrator...

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

shua! ♡: I want to see you play with yourself on call next time

shua! ♡: While I take control :)

you: fuck

you: of course you do

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

you: you're a menace

shua! ♡: And you love that about me

you: that i unfortunately do

shua! ♡: ❤️

shua! ♡: Tell me when it arrives, baby

shua! ♡: We'll have our fun together again :)

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #joshua smut #hong joshua smut #joshua fanfic #keir.rqst #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo fanfic

1K notes · View notes

mrghostrat · 3 months

Note

Not sure if someone asked this but what are your favorite fics? You’re probably my favorite fanfic author at the moment and I need some recommendations!

fuck yes rec time!! it's been a while since i recced my favourites. i'll try to avoid reccing the same classic fandom fics that everyone else does, so hopefully you'll find something new!

but as always, we start with First Class (Hons) by heloluv because i can't believe this fic doesn't have 100k+

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 human au, horticulturalist!crowley wooing priest!aziraphale to try and get a rose cutting from the church garden

because thinking makes it so by NaroMoreau, summerofspock human au, "straight" and divorced aziraphale is a new employee in crowley's office where crowley is an IT guy. they start as friends with benefits

Soho by Lurlur human au, aziraphale runs a bookshop and crowley is a rockstar that wanders on in

Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous actor who stars in a music video for crowley and anathema's rock band

The Bizarre Demons of AZ Fell & Co Antique Booksellers by WorseOmens good omens x buzzfeed unsolved crossover that makes me laugh every time

Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo human au, crowley watches aziraphale eat ice cream on a bench every day at lunch, and devises a plan to go sit with him one day. another laugh out loud

First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo human au, aziraphale is a famous author who bumps into childhood friend/crush crowley at a book signing.

(sobs omg im sorry for so much feraltuxedo i can't get enough of their fics)

Celestial Bodies by Justkeeptrekkin canon compliant, getting together, beautiful beautiful prose of nonhuman intimacy

To reveal my heart in ink by chaoticlivi canon compliant, aziraphale starts handwriting crowley letters just because he misses the format. it becomes easier to spill certain feelings on the page and their letters get very saucy n intimate.

Talk about the weather by nightbloomingcereus human au, aziraphale is a weather man meteorologist and crowley is a storm chaser.

If A Man... by Tartan_Temptation human au, crowley has some Alone Time on his balcony in the middle of the night, but someone sees him. so what if i read this every night for a week straight????? don't look at me.

it's probably not worth reccing since it's been removed from ao3 and only accessible after a five round brawl with the waybackmachine in an arby's parking lot, but i have to mention litany in which certain things are crossed out by Ayes/sayesayes changed my brain chemistry and GOD i wish it was still up...........

#ask a rat #good omens fic recs #good omens #rat reads

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lifehacksthatwork · 2 years

Text

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