#MAN YOURE ROCKING THOSE VERSES

[dick-meister]

Can’t help but to play along, in the distance. Anyone know what the instrumental version of a back up singer is??

[artdcnaldson]

tashi in the mix to this "teach me" verse hold on because..... tashi teaching you how to move your hips on a mans cock to make him crazy, on art because patrick would try to slip his tip in 😒,,,, hands on your hips, guiding you, you can feel her nipples on your back as she helps you rock back and forth over his dick.... art slipping and sliding through your slick folds, moaning when tashi turns your head to lick into your mou- i have another idea for patrick ill be back

hiiiii 🫶🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (f!recieving oral, grinding, orgasm denial)

A/N: Your mind amazes me so bad it’s crazy. Patrick’s part is gonna be so 🤭🫶 I’m excited. Anyways. Need Artashi so bad it’s clinical

When you tell Tashi, her face contorts in a mix of annoyance and confusion. At you, for you, at them— it was hard to tell.

“Jesus, you’ve just been jerking and sucking them off for weeks now?” She asks, her lips turned into a frown

“I didn’t think you’d be upset about it,” you said shyly, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach. “It’s nothing serious between us, just—“

She stops you, laughing wryly. “No, I don’t give a fuck if they’re your boyfriends or not. I just can’t fucking believe that you’ve been getting them off and they haven’t even offered to make you cum.”

You feel heat in your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t ever ask. It’s too embarrassing.”

Tashi rolls her eyes. “Jesus, if you can suck their dicks, they can make you cum. It’s not hard.” And she’s right. It’s not like you haven’t wondered what it would feel like for their hands to fit between your thighs, how different it might feel for their fingers to be buried inside of you— long and thick, different than yours. Or their mouths— even though thinking about it makes your stomach twist with embarrassment. “Whatever. I’ll fix it for you.”

Tashi will fix it. And that’s that.

It’s not even a day later that Tashi texts you, inviting you over to her dorm. “They’re fucking chauvinists,” she explains, knees brushing yours as you face each other on her bed. “They’re treating you like a fucking fleshlight because you’re naive. But you’re not going to be naive anymore. You’re going to get exactly what you want. What you need.”

“But I like it,” you admit nervously, afraid to let her down. “Being wanted like that.”

She smiles, brushes her hand along your cheek. “We’re not quitting. We’re leveling the playing field. They’ve given you some lessons, it’s my turn.”

Art Donaldson is a weak link— needy, sweet, eager. He’d follow Patrick or Tashi off a fucking cliff if they wanted him to. Art’s so easy that it’s no surprise when he’s at Tashi’s door fifteen minutes after she texts him.

Between you and Tashi, it’s easy to get him where you want him— desperate, wanting. All it takes are a few kisses and rubbing his dick through his jeans.

He watches, almost dazed as you kiss Tashi deeply, putting all those lessons from him and Patrick to work. And she’s like a mix of the two in a way— like she’d taken the care and hunger Art kissed with and tangled it up in all of Patrick’s intensity and need.

“That’s nice. At least they’re good for something,” Tashi murmurs against your lips. You nod, mouth open, leaning back in to kiss her again. She smiles, leans back. “C’mere.”

Tashi sits against the headboard, pulls you so your back is against her chest. Art slots in between your thighs with no instruction. He tugs down your shorts and panties at once, and your face burns as your pussy is exposed to both of them.

“Look how pretty she is, Art,” Tashi says. She’s holding your thighs apart, keeping you spread open for them. Her lips brush against your jaw and you sigh contentedly. “Give her a kiss.”

Art obeys easily, and his mouth meets your cunt like he’s making out with it. Slow laps of his tongue through your slit, tasting how wet you’d gotten from kissing them. He moans softly, nuzzles closer.

Your eyes flutter, rolling back as your body melts into the new sensation— lips and tongue, the warmth and wetness and pressure. It’s better than your own fingers, or the cheap vibrator you’d gotten at the mall.

You squeeze Tashi’s hand when his lips seal around your clit, nails digging into her palm, forming tiny crescents. “See?” Tashi says. “He’ll do whatever you want, you just have to make him.”

Art’s tongue dips inside of your entrance, making you moan. Tashi relishes in it— in seeing you experience all of it for the first time. It wasn’t fair, she decided, that she’d been left out from the beginning.

“Use your fingers,” Tashi instructs. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Art, you should just do it right the first time.”

He moans pathetically against your cunt as she tangles her fingers in his blond curls. You’re so wet that your body accepts his finger easily, like it belongs. He thrusts it slowly, curled just enough to brush against your sweet spot.

He’s grinding against the bed— desperate, needy. His brow is furrowed in concentration, desperate to make you cum so he can be rewarded and praised. He slips a second finger alongside the first, alternates between suckling on your clit and teasing it with soft licks.

You’re so easy to get worked up, especially when you’re sandwiched between Tashi and Art. Neither of them are surprised when you cum, hard and fast, clenching around Art’s fingers, grinding against his face.

Embarrassment and arousal mingle warm in your belly at the sight of Art’s face— all slick and wet. He leans in, kisses Tashi, then kisses you. He undresses while you’re coming down from it, wanting the two of you to lave him with attention, to take care of the aching need between his legs.

That’s not what he’s there for.

Tashi pushes him down onto his back, pins him there with nothing more than a look. He lays there trying to be patient, with his cock hard and resting against his stomach. You see it twitch as she peels off your shirt and your bra, throws her own shirt across the room.

Art watches in eager anticipation as Tashi guides you to straddle him, your wet cunt hovering right over where he wants it. His head falls back against Tashi’s pillows.

“Patrick’s going to fucking kill me,” Art groans.

“Why? She’s not fucking you,” Tashi said firmly. “You’re just going to lay there and be a prop. Be a good boy and lay still.”

His chest heaves as Tashi settles behind you, pressing her body against yours. “Alright, just move with my hands, okay? I’ll show you what boys like.”

You off wordlessly as she starts guiding your hips in slow, grinding motions. Art whines beneath you, as each slow pass of your hips makes your pussy slide along the line of his cock. His head falls back, and he tries and fails to buck up against you with his hips pinned under your and Tashi’s weight.

She guides your hips in slow circles and you whine at the same time as Art. “See?” She asks. You nod, head falling back against her shoulder. “All you need to turn his brain into mush is right here.”

Soon, the pressure of her hands on you is second to instinct— she lets her hands move up your body to squeeze and cup your tits. You turn, letting her lick into your mouth, relishing in the drag of her tongue against yours.

“Can you cum like this?” She breathes into your mouth. “Just using him like a plaything?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know,” you admit.

She just smiles against your lips, leans in for another hungry kiss. “Try.”

She guides your hand to the middle of his chest, giving you more purchase. The new angle makes you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your sensitive clit rubs against him.

“Good, keep going like that.” You almost whine at the loss of her warm behind you as she moves to sit against the wall. The perfect view of you and Art, both submitting to her whims. The sight of her with a hand between her thighs, watching you with a hungry, unabashed desire makes heat pool in your belly. Her fingers circle her clit with the skill of someone who knows exactly how to get what she needs in all things. “Look at him, not me.”

Art’s a fucking mess— red down to his chest, panting and whining beneath you. Without Tashi pinning his legs, he’s able to grind up against you, to seek that friction. Moans tumble past his full lips, and god, he looks so pretty when he’s pinned beneath you for once.

When you cum, it’s with panting moans and trembling thighs. Tashi finishes at the sight, of you— grinding down against the blond, who’s just lying there and taking it. Tashi rubs your back as you come down, smiling like she’d just coached you to victory.

You move off of Art and he’s still hard, still wanting. Pouting at the loss of the warm, slick pressure on his lap.

“Okay, you can go,” Tashi tells Art, with a soft pat against his cheek. He groans, chest still heaving, pouting. Tashi sighs. “You did your job, Art. Thank you.”

You watch him redress, obviously hard in his athletic shorts. He looks back, like he’s checking if Tashi’s going to change her mind (she doesn’t).

When he’s gone, she kisses you again, easing you onto your back, straddling your lap as she grinds her wet pussy against your thigh. “You’re such a good little student,” she praises against your lips. “No wonder they like you so much.”

tashi/patrick vignette next and they will match each others freak trust 🫶

[missaengg]

Massaging Lord Sukuna

Day 23 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Jujutsu Kaisen | Sukuna x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, massage, hand job, Lord Sukuna, servant reader, Sukuna is massive Prompts: Massages | “That's it, you're doing such a good job.” ao3 link here.

“Enter.”

The deep, foreboding voice commands you through the sliding doors. You enter, hastening to your Lord’s feet and falling to the ground in a deep bow.

“You called for me, my Lord?”

“Uraume tells me you’re well-versed in the art of massage.” “Y–yes, my Lord.” 

You keep your eyes trained on the polished wooden floor. You’ve heard the stories whispered among the other servants, how Lord Sukuna can change his mood on a whim, how if you happen to be present when his mood shifts… You shiver. You’ve seen the empty beds of those who entered his chambers and never returned.

“Stand before me.”

You scramble to your feet keeping your head bowed. You don’t dare look him in the eyes.

“Look at me.”

Trembling, you raise your chin, tentatively gazing into his cold, demon eyes. They appraise you slowly, taking his time to drag over every inch of your tiny form. You hold your breath, terrified of making the wrong move and catching his ire. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he looks away, releasing you from his hold.

“Do not disappoint me, wench.”

You inaudibly release the tense breath you’re holding in your lungs. “Yes, my Lord.”

Lord Sukuna disrobes, casually slipping the luxurious silk material fluidly off his shoulders and discarding it carelessly to the side. You gasp and avert your eyes quickly, a blush blooming on your cheeks at your Lord’s unabashed naked form. It’s your first time seeing a man – if Lord Sukuna can be considered a man – bare, and you’re surprised by how much you relish it, at the rush of heat overwhelming you. While it’s no secret Lord Sukuna has an informidable build, seeing him disrobed… you can’t help, but admire just how chiseled he is, how clearly each contour of his body is outlined under his flesh.

“Where…” You clear your throat, reaching for the massage oil. “Where would you like for me to focus, my Lord?”

“My shoulders and my back. Do not skimp on the pressure.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

You get to work briskly, slathering a generous amount of oil on your hands, rubbing them together to warm up the oil so your hands aren’t too cold. You don’t know if he’ll mind, but you prefer not to find out at the cost of your life.

Desperately attempting to quell your shaking, you place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his taut muscles ripple under your palms. You can tell that he’s tight, and you knead along the fibers, pressing as hard as you can with your thumbs. You run your thumb along a particularly dense knot, and Lord Sukuna grunts. Lightening your touch, you wonder if perhaps you’ve pressed too hard, and you wait with bated breath, waiting to see if he’ll turn on you in rage.

“Harder, brat. Do not make me say it again.”

You bite your lip to keep from squeaking in fear. “Y–yes, my Lord.”

You dig your thumb in the knot again, harder this time, rocking it back and forth to loosen what you can. Lord Sukuna grumbles in displeasure, your thumb too weak against the thick fibers of his dense muscle. Coating your elbow in oil, you press your bony joint into the stubborn point. You relax when Lord Sukuna sighs, now using your forearm and elbow to soothe the strain in his back.

“Uraume was right. You are satisfactory.”

A rare utterance of praise.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

The tense clench of your body begins to subside as you focus on the task at hand, finding a rhythm to the way your arms slide along his broad torso. You frown when your thumbs travel down towards his waist. His lower back is an impenetrable column, even tighter than the knots in his shoulders. Re-coating your hands with more oil, you rake your knuckles against the firm ropes of muscle, following the path to his glutes. 

You almost topple over once you realize where your hands are placed.

“F–forgive me, my Lord. I did not mean to touch you indecently.”

Lord Sukuna simply chuckles. “You wish to seduce your Lord?”

“No, my Lord!” You throw yourself into a deep bow even though you know Lord Sukuna can’t see you. “For–forgive me, my Lord!”

Lord Sukuna sighs. “You may continue.”

Shaking, you place your palms back down on his glutes, but the heels of your palms are too feeble against his powerful muscle. You wince. You have no choice, you’ll have to use your knees. Hiking the hem of your yukata up to your hips, you coat your knees in massage oil.

“Please excuse me, my Lord.”

“Hm?” Lord Sukuna’s bored hum hangs in the stifling tension, but he doesn’t move, uninterested in your next move.

You carefully climb on top of your Lord, your knees moving in opposing circles on his cheeks, leaning with your hands on his shoulder blades. You’re practically laying on top of him attacking both his glutes and his upper back simultaneously, painfully aware of your close proximity. You can feel his body heat radiating off of him in heavy crashing waves. For such a cold, imposing demon Lord, his body heat is impossibly, scorchingly hot, and you’re burning in its presence.

Lord Sukuna tenses, and you freeze. Are you not using enough strength? Remembering his earlier threat, you prepare to sink more of your meager weight into his flesh when he suddenly rises, and you tumble unceremoniously off his back to the hard floor below. 

Your breath catches in your throat, fear dancing in your now teary eyes. Is this where your life will end?

Lord Sukuna simply flips over in one swift movement, his back now on his futon. You catch a glimpse of his impressive twitching cock, and you almost choke at the sheer, monstrous size of his appendage. It’s standing at attention, fully engorged, a bead of something glistening on his tip. It’s your first time seeing a cock in real life, but they can’t possibly be this big… Can they?

“I’ve changed my mind…”

You forcefully tear your wide eyes away from his lap.

“I want you to work on my front.”

You’re still too dazed to fully comprehend Lord Sukuna’s request or wonder why he suddenly changed his mind when you’ve hardly worked on his back, which is still a mess of crunchy, tangled fibers. All you can do is stutter, “Yes, my Lord,” before moving to kneel by his head.

You jump when Lord Sukuna grabs you by the wrist, snapping you out of your dazed trance.

“By my side.”

You blink. You don’t understand why he wants to keep you by his side to massage his chest. The best placement for the neck and chest is with his head cradled between your knees, but you comply. You aren’t reckless enough to argue with him. What Lord Sukuna wants, Lord Sukuna gets.

“Yes, my Lord.”

You kneel by his chest. Despite the awkward angle, you do your best to knead his pecs. 

“Lower.”

You move your hands down until they’re directly cupping his chest.

“Lower.”

Abs aren’t quite an area that’s normally massaged, but you accede. While humans don’t generally prefer having their stomachs pressed, perhaps demons are different in that regard.

“Lower.”

This time you pause. Lower would mean… you blush furiously at what his command is implying.

“My Lord?”

“You heard me, brat. Lower.”

You hesitantly slide your hands lower following the trail of hair leading down to his… your blush deepens. There’s only one thing in that region that’ll require a massage, and it’s currently twitching quite violently in your view.

“Do I need to spell out what I want?”

The irritation threading through his words is clear. 

“N–no, my Lord.”

You know what he’s asking you to do. Taking in a deep breath, you grasp his thick shaft, your tiny hand barely able to close around its full girth. It’s throbbing, the protruding veins pulsing in a steady yet demanding rhythmic beat. You exhale. The feeling of a man’s dick is foreign to you, and you’ve heard other ladies giggling over their midnight trysts with the other men, but this is your first time even holding one in your palm, much less one this massive. 

Struggling to remember what exactly was shared in the cover of night, you timidly move your oil-slicken hand up and down his shaft. Are you supposed to squeeze? How fast are you supposed to go? Do you include the tip?

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears prickling your eyelids. You so desperately want to please your Lord, but you have no idea what you’re doing, and you’re too scared to ask. Too scared of the consequences that may follow.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

Lord Sukuna is staring at you, contemplating something in his head. There’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. You don’t know whether you should be struck with fear or something else entirely or a combination of both. Your hand stills. The moment is tense with unspoken words.

“Apply more pressure and increase your pace gradually.”

Relief floods your anxious, fearful heart. For whatever reason, he is being patient with you, and you’re grateful for his mercy. You strengthen your grip around him, and pump, twirling around his shaft to cover every exposed inch.

“That's it, you're doing such a good job,” Lord Sukuna purrs, his eyes still trained on you, still gleaming with the something you can’t identify.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“Do not forget to include the head of my cock.”

Your hand aches. After the strenuous exertion of massaging Lord Sukuna’s dense body and the width of his member, your fingers are cramping, at their limit, but you refuse to give in to the strain. Lord Sukuna has spared you several times already, and you’re determined to keep him pleased.

Lord Sukuna growls quietly under his breath, and you take a peek, taken aback at the rosy flush that has appeared on his cheeks and at the way his eyes are rolling under his eyelids and his mouth hangs open. His breaths are rapidly shallow.

He’s enjoying this.

Emboldened by your Lord’s response, you pump furiously. This time remembering to include the bulbous head. Your hand glides easily, the massage oil acting as a slick lubricant allowing you to increase your pace smoothly.

Your aim is to please your Lord, but you feel unsettled by the way your thighs are rubbing together, the way his growl has awoken a fluttering in your belly, the way you ache and throb between your legs.

Sukuna’s growls grow louder, interspersed with guttural grunts, all laced with a feral edge. Every so often his hips jerk against your fist until his cock pulls taut, and with a fearsome groan he erupts, shooting wave after wave of his white cum, his explosion so powerful and copious, his cum is spilling over your fist and spurting onto your clothes.

The ladies spoke of what happens when a man is pleasured, but this… This is something else entirely. Lord Sukuna’s release is a relentless torrent of white far beyond anything you’d previously heard. 

Lord Sukuna finally stills, his breathing labored. Despite spilling an impressive amount, his cock is still undeniably firm. He cracks his eyes open, and he languidly smirks, taking in the way you’re practically bathed in his cum.

“You have pleased me, little one.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” You bow, ignoring just how drenched you are from his release. “If you are satisfied, I shall take my leave.”

You’re so shaken from how much pleasure you also felt from pleasing your Lord, you forget you must first be dismissed before leaving his presence.

Lord Sukuna narrows his eyes, and he grabs you by the arm, pulling you closer towards him. “I’m not done with you, brat,” he hisses.

You flinch, recognizing your impudence. “I’m sorry, my Lord,” you whisper, flushing from how close his face is to yours.

Lord Sukuna trails his finger down your cheek, a wicked grin gracing his lips. You look into his eyes, finally understanding the gleam you couldn’t identify earlier.

Ravenous hunger.

He brings his lips so close to your ear, they brush your helix causing you to shiver, and says…

“I won’t be done with you until morning.”

[okkotsuus]

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

okkotsuus 24

[ghcstao3]

marine biologist/diver!ghost x selkie!soap au Thoughts

marine biologist ghost who, whenever he has spare time, will go diving with some colleagues to collect trash from the ocean—because maybe it doesn’t make a huge, immediate impact, but it still means something is being done.

then one day while diving, ghost is accompanied by a seal. at first it only observes, and ghost is plenty happy to admire from afar, but then the seal is cozying up to him. it latches onto his leg, nudges him with its snout—even directs ghost and his group to trash that’s otherwise pretty well hidden, wedged beneath coral and rocks and sand.

it saddens ghost, just a little, when the sky starts getting dark and they have to head back. he doesn’t want to abandon his new friend—it’s rare they have wildlife hang around for this long—but unfortunately it’s not safe to wait any longer before going home.

but then the next time they’re able to go diving, the seal is there again. it plays at the same routine, helping out and goofing around, sticking dutifully by ghost’s side even when there’s others along with him. and time after time, it’s the same thing. no matter where the group is, the seal somehow always finds him. they end up lending it the nickname soap, after the odd amount of empty bottles of cleaning products the seal seems to locate for them.

it’s maybe a few months later that soap doesn’t show up, and it’s an instant cause for concern; there’s no reason soap should be missing. they’re in a similar area that the seal likely frequents, there’s no reason for soap to have moved or be huddled away with other seals to have pups.

the group worries, but there’s nothing they can do but theorize and assume as they carry out their regular chore. it’s only a once-off, by this point. maybe soap just didn’t feel like coming out to play just this one time.

but it happens again and again. soap doesn’t appear once, and it has the group of scientists worried sick. but without a tracker, or even a real idea of where soap might frequent when he’s not helping the group, there’s nothing they can do.

they return to shore later than usual one night. it’s completely dark by the time they dock, and ghost waves everyone ahead to go home because they’re all tired, he can manage clean-up by himself.

ghost is just about finished packing up when he sees the figure at the end of the dock. the marina is like a ghost town otherwise, nothing but the sound of turning waves and boats gentle bumping up against the port. ghost approaches slowly, not knowing what other business one could possibly have at the water this late.

“you lost, mate?” ghost wonders cautiously.

the figure steps closer, silver moonlight revealing some of his features. the man looks about ghost’s age, maybe younger—only it’s hard to tell with the haggard look on his face, as he nervously wrings his fingers and avoids ghost’s gaze.

“i’m… sorry i haven’t been around,” he apologizes, and ghost frowns. “someone… someone took my coat.”

ghost’s brow furrows. “i don’t… your coat? i’m not sure i underst—“

“my coat,” the man affirms. “i need it to swim. which is why i haven’t been able to help lately.”

not certain how it’s possible, ghost grows even more confused. he doesn’t get it—a coat to swim? being able to help? nothing makes sense.

“you’ve lost me,” ghost says, shaking his head. “wish i could help, but—“

as ghost tries to push past, the man seizes his arm. he peers up at ghost pleadingly, and while ghost had wanted to conclude the man was drunk or high or something—he hesitates, seeing that look.

“have you ever heard of selkies?” the man asks, an edge of desperation in his voice.

ghost shrugs. “sure i have.” he’s hardly well-versed in mythical creatures, but he knows the gist.

the man doesn’t say anything—just continues to look at ghost with those sad eyes, a plea for understanding like an explanation couldn’t be spoken aloud. so ghost thinks on it a moment.

the coat, the inability to swim without it. not helping out and not being there starting to sound like a reference to soap. to the seal.

ghost’s eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline in disbelief.

“you’re not really saying you’re soap, are you?”

maybe-soap frowns. “who’s that?”

right. “i mean the seal that’s been following our diving trips,” ghost clarifies. “and you’re saying… because your coat is gone—“

“taken,” soap corrects, “i couldn’t go. i wanted to find you, but i didn’t know how, and… and…”

soap looks frazzled, like his brain has disconnected from his mouth and hands in empty gestures in words trying to convey what he’s thinking.

ghost tentatively sets his crate of gear on the wooden planks of the dock before placing his hands on either one of soap’s shoulders. maybe the story isn’t all there, and maybe there’s still doubt in ghost’s head about any of it being the truth—but ultimately, ghost believes the man. believes it’s soap.

slowly, ghost says, “calm down, and tell me how i can help. we’ll get your coat back, yeah?”

soap offers him a shy, watery smile—but a smile nonetheless. he nods and begins to tell ghost everything.

it doesn’t take long before they’re hatching a plan to win back soap’s freedom.

[idontknowmyownmind]

OG!Cale Fanfics Recommendation

COMPLETED

[og!Cale-centric] in accordance by pheenick 💝

[LCF] Love is gone by sleepycale 💝

[LCF] Are you saying Goodbye? by JadedMindscape

[og!AlCale] "Unexpected Meetings" - series by abralhugres

[og!AlCale] "dreams" - series by abralhugres

[og!AlCale] the root of the problem by abralhugres

His Majesty's Messenger by Aisha_mirai

A Man who had No Love by Justsamrandumbfujoshi

[og!Cale-centric] Forgive Dad by Verzy

[og!AlCale] Winter Affliction by abralhugres

[og!Cale-centric] the red means... [you belong to me] by Further_From_Humanity 💝

it's you by Milamimi

[og!AlCale] In another life by Verzy

[og!AlCale] don’t go where i can’t follow by shuangxuans 💝

[og!AlCale] a Lout and a Prince by abralhugres

[og!AlCale] the villainess gets revenge by abralhugres

[RokCale] feelings too strong to contain by abralhugres

[RokCale] Type of kisses by wifteria

[RokCale] Knock on the Coffin by esdegen 💝

[RokCale] Salvation & Sin by Luc_00 (Dawn_007)

[CJS x Heniroksoo] you drew stars around my scars (but now i’m bleeding) by todoloey

[og!AlCale] "Switched" - series by abralhugres

[og!Cale-centric] Nightmare in the Flesh by Verzy

Complicated by abralhugres

[Og!StarCale] Cry for me by wifteria 💝

[ROokCale] Why Cale Henituse can't leave the duchy by wifteria

[Og!AlCale] ( IF I AM THE SUN ) by AKingsAffection

[RokCale] the secrets we left under the distant sky by Luc_00 (Dawn_007)

[RokCale] You Are Mine by ThisIsVee 💝

ON-GOING

[LCF AlCale] Crown Prince's Rule Breaker by minamintsoo

[LCF x ORV] The Kimcom in Rowoon by Tsukki_yan 💝

[LCF x ORV] Crossing Paths by your_serialdreamer

One Bad End is Enough by AsterEfflores 💝

Can't an Old Man Die in Peace? by AsterEfflores

[og!Cale-centric] his brother's keeper by thursdays 💝

Cut Yourself On My Glass Plate by SkylerSkyhigh 💝

Open Your Eyes And Take A Look Around You. by VaraUser 💝

Reacting to Reading by Cortes01

Acquaint Fate by Unlucky_Cactus 💝

[LCF] Ancient Powers Hijack Cale's Body by mishamoonberry

[og!AlCale] Fuck our Problems by Verzy 💝

[og!AlCale] death is the only ending for the trash queen by abralhugres

[og!AlCale] crossed fates - series by abralhugres 💝

[og!AlCale] puppy love by abralhugres

[og!Cale-centric] Vermilion made of Cinnabar by PoisonousLana

[PolySoo x og!Cale] more is better ;D by abralhugres, small_mew 💝

[LCF x BNHA] BNHA react to TCF by KNX7

Hunter by Theta_Shi

[og!Cale-centric] OG!Cale receives a family by Verzy

The Silver Coin and The Pretty Rock by ThisIsVee 💝

This Time Around by ThisIsVee

everyone around him dies by abralhugres 💝

[og!ChoiCale] 그렇더라고요 (When You Love Someone) by mishamoonberry 💝

[og!AlCale] (what we lose in the fire) by AKingsAffection 💝

my world as i wish for by mishamoonberry 💝

Group Hug!!!! by squidballsinc

[RokCale] Damage control by Mir_Hope20 💝

Patchwork Soul by ThisIsVee 💝

Cale's Guide to Raising Your Yandere Brother by GingerVee (ThisIsVee), ThisIsVee 💝

End My Suffering Dear Duke! by Aceresa 💝

[RokCale] Everyone Deserves to be Loved by Loveable_Psychopath

[RokCale) Zenith of the Crimson Sun and the Obsidian Moon by Kimera20

I Reject The Maidens! by C0rr3ct 💝

[RokCale] Sleeping Partners (they really just sleep) by FollowerOfCaleism 💝

[RokCale] The Sun Proposed to the Moon by Nami_San18

Blood is Thicker than Wine by seasskies 💝

💝 The one I love the most ❤❤❤

This is my latest updated og!Cale fanfictions I've read

The one without [...] in front of its title means that the story /somehow/ involved both KRS and Cale

And, yes, I'm a hardcore og!AlCale and RokCale shipper

I do read some krs!Cale-centric fanfiction but when it come to LCF 'canon'-verse, I avoided E-rated and shippy ones and I don't usually bookmarked them

It's hard to find one to my liking because most M-rated and T-rated ones still with ships and s3xual content while there are few with those rates because of the theme or gore or language but most are not, so...

I like the light read ones, but most of the times I just want to read the heavy ones that without ships but those are so rare...

Idk whether you, @grumpywiltedlettuce, already read them or not but these are the one I like the most!!

Will updated if I found more!!

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[vimbry]

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

[visforvengeance]

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal. 

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin. 

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her. 

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets. 

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it. 

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless. 

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer. 

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death. 

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees. 

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while. 

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames. 

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants. 

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat. 

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours. 

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you. 

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her. 

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain. 

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed. 

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now. 

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would. 

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries. 

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way. 

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts. 

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you. 

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever. 

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high. 

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again. 

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters. 

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later. 

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke. 

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part. 

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you. 

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~ 

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?” 

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance. 

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now. 

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came. 

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

[cath-lic]

Hello, I was wondering if you believe non-Christians can be saved? I know many Catholics believe everyone that doesn't accept Jesus will go to hell. Personally, I find this outlook very sad and I was curious on other points of view so please anyone respond with their own opinions. I mean to ask you this: If God is love and is forgiving of our sins, why would he send everyone to hell simply because they could not find their way to him?

hi!! YES absolutely everyone is saved!! now, everyone and their brother has a conflicting opinion on this, but i’ll throw in my two cents.

my first, more concrete point: john 3:16. the everyman’s verse!!

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

okay, but what if someone doesn’t believeth? vatican ii’s lumen gentium, no. 16, also covers this. (italics added by me)

Those also can attain to everlasting salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and, moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does divine Providence deny the help necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God, but who strive to live a good life, thanks to his grace.

however, it’s important to note LG no. 14. bear with me here.

Whosoever knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by God through Jesus Christ would refuse to enter her or to remain in her could not be saved.

i’m not a theologian, i’m just joe off the street—so i may be taking things out of context. forgive me!

however—as much as i am catholic, i believe that this is putting WAY too much importance on the catholic church as we know it today. it is far, far different than the original organization founded upon the rock of st. peter, and i believe that there are many things that god takes issue with in the catholic church (notoriously, jesus criticized large institutions like these). therefore, i don’t know how much i believe that the catholic church today, nor as a whole, was made necessary by god through christ.

my second point: my most fervent belief is that god is love. pretty much all of my friends are atheists, and they are kind and caring and loving people. it is, therefore, impossible for me to believe that they are not saved.

my second-and-a-half point: i take a little bit of issue with your phrasing of “send” to hell.

personally, i believe that hell is not necessarily Dante’s inferno, but a place of complete and total separation from god. i also believe that hell is not a place you are sent to, but rather a place you send yourself.

i mentioned purgatory in my earlier answer to a different anon; this is where that comes in. i generally concur with pope francis when he says that he likes to think of hell as empty (note: he was not issuing doctrine here). i believe that in purgatory, 99.999% (you get it) of people, if not 100%, are able to reconcile with god and see the consequences of their decisions, good and bad, throughout their life.

you know when you tell someone something that is true, but they keep on rejecting it, no matter what evidence you show them? that’s what i imagine is happening to the other .001%.

god is endlessly patient; he doesn’t mind spending eons trying to convince others to have empathy for their fellow man. however, humans are not as patient. they get fed up and walk away—and this is my (limited) understanding of the process of going to hell.

i’ll be honest, i don’t know if hell is permanent, temporary, etc. i’m not sure how helpful it is to debate it, either. but what i do know is very helpfully summarized in this post by the lovely hymnsofheresy.

whenever i have doubts about some aspect of what i believe being incorrect, i remind myself that god is love. he loves us more than anything in the world, and nothing we can do will ever change that. he doesn’t look for reasons for you to go to hell; he wants to be with us all the time.

thank you for sending in this ask, and i hope it helped ❤️❤️❤️

[antiquepearlss]

Southern Headcanons

Old Corona lowkey gives off southern small town vibes so here’s some southern Varian + Quirin headcanons because I’m not projecting at all.

Starting off strong with a classic- Varian loves sweet tea. He makes it homemade and it’s 90% sugar and it’s most of what he drinks. Quirin isn’t a big fan, but he’ll drink it occasionally when Varian makes it. Same with Lemonade; Varian loves it, Quirin is neutral.

If Quirin isn’t working, he’s relaxing in a rocking chair on his front porch.

Varian is the type of person to watch tornadoes instead of seeking shelter. Quirin has to physically pick him up and drag him to the basement.

There’s a creek in Old Corona that the children all frequent. 

Most of Quirin’s diet is biscuits and gravy. It’s the southern old man meal. And southern fried steak. And fried potatoes with gravy. Also coleslaw, and fried green tomatoes, because again, old man.

Varian likes fried chicken and waffles, peach cobbler, pulled pork, chicken and dumplings, and cornbread. He ate coleslaw once and died a little inside.

Neither of them are big fans of catfish or shrimp, they’re just not big on seafood. Ulla was a fan, however.

Neither of them have thick accents, but with certain words it shines through. It also shines through if they talk fast, or for Varian, if he gets really excited. Or it comes out at random moments. Eugene and the girls make fun of him for it, Rapunzel thinks it’s cute, Lance thinks it sounds cool

Quirin has Bible verse decor in his house. He’s not even religious. Those just kind of materialize on your walls the first time you say y’all.

Quirin and Ulla had an apple themed kitchen.

Quirin absolutely has said “bless your heart”

Ulla wore gingham, a lot.

Varian has mason jars. Everywhere. And also reuses those butter containers. He managed to get them to contain acid.

Old Corona has a lot of potholes.

Varian’s favorite place to go as a kid was with his father to Rural King. He loved looking at the machinery and the baby chickens.

Varian knows how to use a riding mower and is quite skilled at it. He tried to teach Eugene (his city kid cousin) and he crashed into a tree.

There is little to nothing to do in Old Corona except for the occasional festival.

Oktoberfest goes hard there.

Quirin isn’t the most social but he does have the southern hospitality down. He’ll invite you in for lemonade or tea. He’ll just, barely talk. (He strikes me as the type to be quiet and awkward in small/intimate settings.) He also brings new neighbors homemade food.

Neither Quirin nor Varian care about sports, but they watch football to feel included. Sometimes they’ll root for opposing teams just for the fun of a playful rivalry with eachother, even though they have no idea what they’re talking about.

Quirin likes old country music. Varian claims to dislike country music, but listens to it sometimes. He never heard the end of it from the girls when they found out he loves Cary Underwood. Ulla had a collection of Dolly Parton vinyl that was passed down to Eugene for….some reason.

Quirin also likes some bluegrass and very much enjoys the blues.

Again, Quirin is not religious, but church on Easter used to be a must. Mostly because it was the only time he and Ulla could get Varian to wear a suit, and he looked adorable in one. (Now all Quirin has to do is ask Rapunzel to make Varian nice clothes and he’ll wear them gladly.)

Ulla planted a lot of magnolias in their garden. And hydrangeas.

Old Corona has a lot of block parties and just, spontaneous potlucks. 

If Varian wasn’t with his parents he was probably with the resident Old Person in Old Corona. He didn’t have many friends growing up, but older people loved him.

Quirin watches Andy Griffith.

Old Corona has one gas station and it has the best slushies. Whenever Rapunzel visits they go there.

Eugene kinda hates Old Corona. He’s a city boy. Rapunzel likes the open-ness.

Old Corona is the prettiest in the Fall.

Varian conveniently spills acid on nearby confederate flags.

[merbear25]

Them fawning over a musician

After some time, you've finally made a name for yourself in the music industry, albite still not the biggest star. At one of your gigs, you catch someone's attention who just so happens to be a well-known pirate.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons, suggestive in Kid's

Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kid

Zoro: The type of music: folk/indie. He enjoys the traditional aspects of folk and feels like it paints a story of that area or country. Likes that indie has no restraints, leaving more control in the hands of the artist.

Walking through the city center, tunes started fading in from the distance. He followed them and came up on a small crowd of people, who were listening to you with contemptment. You were radiating confidence with each note played and sang.

Watching you preform wasn't just entertaining, it was admirable. You'd clearly put a lot of thought into your stage presence: the melody was pleasant, the lyrics were meaningful, and your voice was breathtaking.

After your performance, he casually approached you. Upon seeing him, you couldn't help feeling at least a little intimidated—a large man marching up to you who has scars and also carries three swords would cause anyone to take a step back. However, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. The question was innocent; he came to ask you about a verse in your song.

You two ended up having a genuinely interesting conversation. Without realizing how much time had passed, you offered to grab a drink (your treat), so that you could continue this in a more comfortable setting. He shrugged at your suggestion but accepted none the less. You were not prepared for the tab that would be waiting for you.

Sanji: The type of music: blues/jazz. He would admire the soul and emotion that goes into the lyrics and playing of the instruments. Can get caught up in the passion of those performing on stage.

He was out shopping for a few ingredients but decided to pop into a cavern for a drink. Once ordering, that night's talent started. You didn't have his full attention at first: the beginning of your first song was instrumental. His head was bobbing along to the tune, but when he heard your voice, he became entranced.

Promptly turning towards the stage, the realization of being in the presence of a rising star was more than aparent. The emotion being conveyed in your voice tugged at his heart strings. The slight sway of your hips were mesmerizing.

Even though he wasn't far from the stage, he needed to be closer to fully appreciate your elegance. So as not to have his view of you obstructed by other onlookers, he took a seat near the front of the stage.

When your final song came to a close, he was left feeling astonished, so much so that he forgot to applaud. You shot a charming grin his way, which instantly bewitched him. He took that as an invitation to come and talk to you. Complimenting each and every aspect of you and your talent, he managed to stay gentlemanly, although he'd jump at the opportunity to swoon over you if you let him.

Law: The type of music: pop/rock. He would never admit it, but he loves the upbeat side of pop. Even though rock is very different to pop, it shows the raw emotion that he can connect with.

There was an event being held downtown that just so happened to be taking place during one of his outtings. From the first note, he snapped his body towards the direction of the stage. Momentarily forgetting where he was and what he was doing, he made his way to you, only being led by your allure.

He would know exactly who you are. Not just that, but he'd secretly be your biggest fan. Despite standing in awe while you were preforming, he'd be suppressing his excitement throughout it all. Showcasing it wasn't his style, though he was still anchored at the corner of the stage, mouth gaping from the sheer bewilderment.

When you finished, he awkwardly loomed around the stage. It was hard to ignore what with his pacing back and forth and hesitation. He just seemed overly nervous to you, so you opted against giving him the cold shoulder.

You asked him if he liked the show, making him gasp quietly. After you acknowledged him, he found the courage to ask you for an autograph. You gladly wrote one out for him and ended up chit chatting a bit, mostly one sided since he's still a bit starstruck.

Kid: The type of music: punk/metal. Probably headbangs to it in his free time but also listens to it casually when he's tinkering in his workshop. He gets worked up and ready to take everyone on.

This city was just intended to be a quick pit stop to reload on resources. The sun was already setting which signaled to the Kid Pirates that it was about time to crack open a few cold ones. While taking a short-cut through an alley, a flashy poster caught Kid's eye. No fucking way. One of the bands he jams to was playing in this city? Tonight?? Snatching it off the wall, he rushed off.

Upon reaching the, somewhat, junkyard where your band was playing, he unabashedly shoved his way to the very front. Hearing how heavy your band memebers were coming down on the instruments and the rasp in your voice made the beast within him unleash. He would undoubtedly be the one to start a mosh pit, and in doing so, you wouldn't be able to take your eyes off of him.

After he was satisfied with the chaos he'd spread throughout the crowd, you received his undivided attention. When your eyes met, you gave him a sly smirk for the mess he'd caused. Seeing that gave him the ego boost he needed to chat you up after the show.

Following the last song, you were met with a more than eager Kid waiting for you. You sauntered your way over to him, cooly asking if he liked what he saw. Leaning in closer to you, Kid now had the impulsive idea to get with you. He wasn't being subtle about his intentions in the slightest, leaving the ball in your court.

[jimsbeetroot]

Can you write a one shot for Corey? The reader is in the studio with Slipknot. Corey takes screams and reader, his girlfriend, loves them. Reader gives him loving looks. The others make fun of it and tease reader. Corey comforts them (hug,...).

February, 2001.

I was unsure as to if you were requesting a smut. I made it none smutty, but comment and I’ll change that real quick! This is not my best writing at all, I’m trying to get back into my groove, though!

The dimly lit studio was alive with the sound of metal, an almost tangible energy crackling in the air. Slipknot was deep into the recording of their latest album, *Iowa*, and Corey was in his element. His voice ranged from guttural screams to melodic growls, filling the room with an intense rawness that only he could deliver. You were in awe. You always were, but at that moment, watching him so in touch with that realness. You almost wanted to shed a tear.

You sat on a worn-out leather couch at the back of the studio, watching him pour his soul into every note. You marveled at the transformation of the man you loved into the suffering, terrifying frontman of Slipknot.

For you, it was a revelation each time you witnessed Corey perform. The power of his voice resonated within you, sending chills down your spine and igniting a fire in your core. You adored him in these moments, wrapped in a mix of awe and desire. It wasn’t just about his voice or the music; it was the passion he exuded, the way he owned every inch of his space, commanding the attention of everyone around him.

The band was in the middle of recording "The Heretic Anthem," a track that pushed the limits of intensity and speed. Your heart raced in time with the furious drumbeats, your pulse mirroring the ferocity of the music. You were utterly captivated, caught in a trance of admiration and something more primal.

You shifted slightly on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from Corey. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in with every scream and every breath he took between verses. The rest of the band played on, each member a vital part of the chaotic symphony, but for you, Corey was the focus.

As Corey launched into the chorus, your heart swelled with pride. You knew how much this album meant to him, how much of himself he poured into every lyric and every note. *Iowa* was a darker, more intense journey than their debut, a reflection of the struggles and triumphs the band had faced. And at the center of it all was Corey, baring his soul for the world to hear.

But the bandmates, keen observers and expert teasers, couldn’t let the moment pass unnoticed. Between takes, Joey Jordison grinned mischievously and pointed at you. "Looks like someone's got it bad for our scream king over here," he joked, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. The others joined in, their laughter infectious and loud, echoing off the studio walls.

Mick Thomson leaned over his guitar, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you should see her face when Corey hits those high notes. Bet the studio isn’t the only place she hears it."

The rest of the band chuckled, their teasing lighthearted but relentless. Paul Gray added, "I think we have a new number-one fan in the room."

Your face flushed a deep crimson, your initial amusement quickly giving way to embarrassment. You tried to laugh it off, but their good-natured ribbing hit a sensitive spot. You didn’t want to be seen as just another fan, caught up in the allure of a rock star. She was there for Corey—the man behind the mask and the music. She was his girl, had been for over two years, and you sure as hell wasn’t planning on leaving either.

Sensing your discomfort, Corey stepped away from the mic and crossed the room with his usual attitude, the teasing giving way to a more sincere energy. He slid onto the couch beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his presence was immediate and reassuring.

"Hey," he cooed, leaning in close so only you could hear him over the noise of the studio. "Don’t let them get to you. They’re just messing around."

You sighed and looked into his eyes, finding the comfort she needed. “I know,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just...sometimes I feel like they see me as a groupie.”

Corey shook his head, his gaze steady and sincere. “They don’t, trust me. They love you, they’re just- they’re bored and tired and fucking immature.” He gently squeezed your thigh and leant in to kiss your cheek.

Reassured by his words, you felt the tension melt away, replaced by a renewed confidence in her place beside him. You loved Corey, not just as the charismatic lead singer of Slipknot, but as the man who held her close and knew her heart.

The session resumed, Corey back at the mic, his voice a weapon of raw emotion and strength. You watched him again, your heart swelling with pride and affection. The teasing had faded into the background, and all that remained was the music and the man she loved. You were no longer embarrassed, only exhilarated by the unbreakable bond you shared amid the chaos and creativity of the studio.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

NSFT Alphabet: Fool's Gold

Thank you @turbulentscrawl for this help on this!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

There is no aftercare nor does he expect aftercare, sorry guys. He is not the touchy-feely time at first and it takes a lot to get him there. He will humor you, let you get your cuddles in but you can feel how onesided it is.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Considering his body is mostly rocks rather than flesh, he will be crude and say his dick. At least that still is there and working. On you, everything, you are still soft, still alive, and your heart beats and races for him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is not white, full monster fucker, his cum is black and he likes how it looks smeared on your face and stomach

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This guy would just tell you most of his thoughts, however, he has one: he wants to watch his survivor self fuck you. It is because he wants to see himself, as he was, touch you, and you touching him. Though he def not going to be nice to Norton during the whole thing. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

So tbh he only has ever slept with you, the man doesn't trust like that even though he makes some dirty comments he actually won't follow them through unless it is with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Full nelson heh

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He can be an asshole and kinda funny in bed

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has no hair on the skin parts of his body

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Simple guy, i dont think anything special, he teases a lot and can get really possessive in the moment

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it if bored and you aren’t around to keep him busy. He rather your mouth or hand on him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He won't outwardly say it but making you bark is prob the hottest thing he has ever seen you do and will use his belt more often as a leash on you (sorry guys lol I'm not)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and anytime (in front of Norton too lol)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything he just a simple man with simple needs and he will do it during a match (tie or flawless only)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He will not sub or verse (receive like pegging) 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both he likes receiving more so but he 100% will give (let you sit on his face too)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Often does quickies with you just to make you pent up for later

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He will do most things so long has the end goal is reached (he cums you cum, maybe mostly him cumming he can watch you get yourself off)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

As a hunter he can go on for hours, often you have to tell him to stop because he can go on for a long time

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Why is his cock not enough? He might entertain a vibrator (a modern one) but tbh no just use him 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very unfair

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can be loud and he talks a lot during the do but you like hearing him become a mess where he is only groaning and moaning

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He often doesn't know his own strength and often you are covered in bruises. You have to tell him ease up and he does

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

12inches, the dick of life-changing (his survivor self too) no lie he is packing pray you can handle that

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High with you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn't need to sleep tbh and if in the mood he might stay around to watch you sleep

[blradley]

A powerpoint introduction to Liesmyth!

(I swear the next one will actually be in Comic Sans... shout out to @incandescent-creativity for popularizing this medium!)

Anyway...

Do you wanna read a dark, Norse-inspired Adult Fantasy?

Do you wanna read about queer gods causing mayhem?

(literally every single character is queer lmaooooo)

Do you wanna support a queer, multiply disabled author?

Look no further than Liesmyth! We're out on subs at the moment - so, pretty-please reblog this powerpoint if you like the concept! Let's prove to all those prospective publishers that there's an audience for my book!

Image IDs:

All eleven images are power point slides.

Image 1: Title card reading 'Liesmyth: or, how Sigyn ruined everything, by B. L. Radley'. The words are displayed over a person in (...vaguely) Viking-era garb, against a green background. Only a slice of their torso is visible.

Image 2: A picture of an ash tree against a green, cool, mountainous scene. In a yellow text box, words read: Welcome to a world inspired by Norse mythology, where witches can climb through the cosmos using the boughs of an ancient ash tree, and any magic is possible, so long as it is cast with a suitable sacrifice. Yes, it’s basically a Viking Isekai. Shoot me. Then, a quote in italics: I know an ash tree named Yggdrasil, Nine realms cradled in its loamy arms… Prophecy of the Voluspa, verse 19

Image 3: Meet the characters! An image shows a white woman in Viking-era dress, leaning against a fence, looking pensieve. She is introduced as Sigyn Narisdottir. Her quote is: “It’s a God-eat-God world out there…” Below this, there is a description of Sigyn, reading: Just a nice, normal Christian woman from a nice, normal Christian village. (Totally not a gay witch, haha no, why would you suggest such a thing.) After her father is killed by his own God, Þórr, Sigyn has only one chance to free his trapped ghost from eternal torment. She must confront Þórr and slay him in combat. But how can a mortal defeat a God? Traits are bullet pointed at the bottom of the page. Hers are: Ruthless, ambitious, cunning, and desperate.

Image 4: The next character description is of Loki. His quote is “Monsters lost their menace when they huddled crying in the corner. And when you might use them for your own ends.” His image shows a clean-shaven half-naked man sat against a scandinavian-esque backdrop of rugged rocks and dried grass. He is white, with curly red hair, and is looking curiously off to one side. His description reads: The savior of the Gods, or their bane? A framed innocent, or a prophesized murderer? A victim, or a monster? Loki is a man of juxtaposed polarities, not least of which being that he isn’t a man at all. At least, not when it doesn’t suit him. Sigyn knows he’s dangerous. But in the viper nest of Ásgarð’s royal court, he might be her only ally… or her downfall. His traits are: Sly, wily, and 'not to be trusted'.

Image 5: The two characters introduced on this slide are Freyja and Thor. Freyja's image is of an Arab woman staring directly at the camera, expression serene, curly hair falling around her face. Her quote is: “Goddess of beauty. Goddess of desire. All who saw Freyja fell a little in love—but though silken longing stirred in my belly, I wrung it dead, reminding myself that Freyja was a goddess of bloodshed, too.” Her description reads: Queen of the Vanir, Freyja is an ancient and powerful goddess who takes Sigyn as her indentured servant. Her traits are: Proud, cold, and vicious. On the opposite side of the page, Thor's image shows a white, bearded man in an iron helmet glaring into the camera, viking sigils scrawled across his face in charcoal. He is shadowy and menacing. His quote is: “I saw a rainbow flash over a church. I saw a broken sky. I saw the end of everything.” His description is: Eldest prince of the Æsir. Murderer of Sigyn’s father, and countless more beside. The living embodiment of berserker rage, he is the strongest god around – and next to inherit Ásgarð’s throne. Unless Sigyn can stop him. His traits are: Violent, mighty, and 'a storm made flesh'

Image 6: introduces Angrboda and Baldr. Angrboda's image shows a white woman with blonde braids, wearing chain mail and warpaint (black streaks over her face), with a huge axe over one shoulder. Her quote is: “ ‘Sigyn, meet Angrboða: witch of the Ironwoods, god of a lost nation, relic of an elder age, master of magics that not even my darling brother dares dabble in, cosmopolitan worldwalker, mother and father of my children, and—if I might say so—a practitioner of truly superlative strap-game.’ ” Baldr's image is of Assad Zaman, looking wistfully, beautifully, into the camera. His quote is: “Out strode the most beautiful man in all the Nine Worlds. His gentle smile, his topaz eyes, his black curls, the fawn velvet of his cheeks… Oh, warmth radiated from him. I looked at him and felt, for the first time in oh-so-very-long, safe.”

Image 7: introduces Saga and Menglod. Saga's image shows a Black woman in darkness, with facial tattoos and a nose ring. She raises her eyes to the camera, pulling back a dark hood, her expression difficult to read. Her quote is: “In another version of this tale, I stayed with Sága. We travelled to Ljósálfheim every winter—one for every six of Vanaheim’s years—and raised foundlings as our own (for ever were the elvish freer with their loves than those of my world). But in this tale, we reached Freyja’s palace, and I had a dream.” Her description is: Prophet, witch, worldwalker. The woman Sigyn left behind. Menglod's image shows a Black woman smiling slightly, slyly, as she looks back over her shoulder, her natural hair framing her face. Her quote is: “If I tended the hearth in Freyja’s chamber, I left ash on her floors. If I swept the ash, I left streaks invisible to any eyes but Menglǫð’s. If I breathed, I did so far too loudly and regularly, and if I were a considerate soul, I would stop.” Her description is: Freyja’s attendant, and Sigyn’s main rival for her favor.

Image 8: So, like, wtf happens? Set against a background of dramatic red-on-black fire is a description of the book's plot, as follows: Crumbling kingdoms. Hungering Gods. One woman who will end the worlds. Loki, Norse god of fire and mischief, will be tortured until the end of time. And he shall deserve every minute. At least, that’s how the story goes. Behind every great man is a great woman, and behind every genderfluid trickster-god is a spouse who darns his socks, plots his victories and keeps his secrets, as well as her own. After a thousand years of agony, Loki looks to the woman who kneels by his side – his jailer, his torturer, his wife – and asks for a different story. Hers.

Image 9: a continuation of the plot from the previous slide, this time with a cool blue lake as the background, with a viking-style ship floating atop its surface. The image feels less calming, more unnerving in its stillness and the lack of human life. The description reads as follows: Down with the gods. So swore Sigyn, a young mortal woman, after watching her father die at godly hands. One millennium later, she has joined the same pantheon she once despised. Now, as Ragnarǫk approaches – the end of all Nine Worlds – Sigyn narrates the tale of the Norse Gods’ fall, and her own.

Image 10: Themes. A picture of two crossed axes accompanies a list of themes, which are: 1) Revenge. What is a life worth? And what would you give up, to avenge the life of someone you love? 2) Corruption. Can you ever fix a broken system from the inside? Or will it, inevitably, consume you? and 3) Divinity. What does it mean, to become a god? What might you lose along the way?

Image 11: A picture of Loki as a woman, with red hair, dressed in a Viking-style dress and sat on the edge of a Scandinavian dock, accompanies text that reads: This book is for you if you like... Queer-led, queer-written fantasy, with main wlw and nonbinary characters! Court drama and political intrigue, mixed with a sizzling dash of mythology! A prophecy that cannot be averted; a tragedy that cannot be outrun…

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Famous/Non-Famous fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

Tired Tired Sea || @mediawhorefics || 113.3k Famous/Non Famous, Lighthouse Keeper Louis, Famous Singer Harry, Slow Burn, Past Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Face Your Fears || @sadaveniren || 92.2k Omegaverse, Baker Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Misunderstandings, KidFic, Mpreg, Slowburn, Angst

In A Twinkling || @jacaranda-bloom || 89.2k Christmas Fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Self-Growth

begging for you to take my hand (wreck my plans, that's my man) || hemakeshimstrongx || 70.1k Famous/Non Famous, Rockstar Louis, Photographer Harry, Touring, Established

Turning Page || purpledaisy || 67.9k ** Famous/Non Famous, Ex-Footballer Louis, Actor Harry, Summer

I was yours (I wish you were mine) || @harruandlou || 56.2k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Dyslexia, Librarian Harry, Rock Star Louis, Summer

Hooked with Just One Taste || @dinosaursmate || 48.5k Cam boy Louis, Famous Harry, Sex Toys

And Now I Date Cate's Brother || @sunflouwerhabit || 46.6k Famous/Non Famous (ish), Pop Punk Louis, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Long Distance

Until || @allwaswell16 || 38.2k Cowboy Harry, Famous/Non-Famous, Songwriter Louis, Side Shiall

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet Series || @allwaswell16 || 34.3k Exes to Lovers, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Chicago, Song Fic

A Hungry Heart || @jacaranda-bloom || 27.6k GBBO AU, Famous/Non-Famous, Fluff/Smut/Humor

Something To Remember || @parmahamlarrie || 25k  Soulmate AU, Famous Harry, Writer Louis, Travel, Hawaii

Suddenly They’re Right || sapphichug || 22.3k Famous/Non-Famous, Professor Louis, Friends with Benefits, Pining, Feelings, Therapy

Whirlwind || dolce_piccante || 21.3k Famous/Non-Famous, Actor Harry, Teacher Louis, Childhood Friends to Lovers

Answer All Your Wishes Verse || @sadaveniren || 19.1k Mpreg, Famous Louis, Non-Famous Harry, Kid Fic

Your heart can love again || sloganeer || 18k Older Louis, Famous Louis, Tattoos, H works for Grimshaw

tonight’s not over (come over and stay) || @adoredontour || 17k Famous Harry, College Student Louis, Lots of Fluff

Fugue || @canonlarry || 16.5k Established Relationship, Famous/Non Famous, Kidfic, Amnesia

Hold My Heart || @a-writerwrites @phdmama || 14.3k Strangers to Lovers, Famous/Non Famous, Doctor Harry, Mile High Club

Tease You, Please You || @homosociallyyours || 12.5k Girl Direction, Famous/Non Famous, Boss/Employee (kinda), Friends to Lovers

Even As Young As You Are || @olo-gist || 12.3k Kidfic, Uncle Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Famous Harry, Nurse Louis

Come In and Change My Life || @lightwoodsmagic || 12.1k Omegaverse, Famous/Non-Famous, Mpreg, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k ** Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Be Mine? || @softfonds || 11.1k Valentine's Day, Famous/Non Famous, Fluff and Smut, Singer Louis

I Heard You Talking || @lululawrence || 10.5k Famous/Non Famous, Older Louis, Football Player Harry

Lately You’ve Been On My Mind || @lululawrence || 9.3k Famous/Non Famous, Youtuber Louis

I Remember (The Distances We Covered) || @lululawrence || 5.2k Famous/Non Famous, Soccer Player Louis, Teacher Harry

Under My Umbrella || @lululawrence || 5k  Girl Direction, Famous/Non Famous

(on the edge until) you pull me in || @zjofierose || 3.1k ** Famous/Non Famous, Age Difference, Single Dad Louis, Wanker's Day

tonight he's a paradox || @daggerandrose || 2.4k ** Famous/Non Famous, Coachella, Masseuse Louis, Famous Harry

and in those rare moments || @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed || 2.1k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Singer Harry, Journalist Louis, Unique Structure