#all three songs are so delectable

[justacasualidiot]

hey. hi. how do i add an image inside of the notes on ao3. great. thanks. (i am so sleep deprived)

(ignore the tags below ao3 author. i am SO sleep needing. maybe i should consume some melatonin.)

[cptnhngjng]

pretty sounds (part 1)

 “such a good girl. such a good, good girl for me. making all those pretty sounds.”

you help hongjoong out with his new song

-hongjoong x f!reader -1.4k words -smut, mdni, 18+ only c/w: studio sex, overstimulation, oral sex (f recieving), unprotected sex

multiple parts (eventual multiple members x f!reader)

part two three four

it’s a common occurrence to visit joong while he’s working in the studio. i mean he practically lives there at this point. most of the time you just kinda hung out there while he worked. you both liked just being in each other’s presence—hongjoong working on his music and you doing whatever it is you do. 

this one particular evening it was very hot and humid outside, so you wore a skirt to help keep cool. when you showed up at the studio, hongjoong didn’t think too much of it when he saw you in the skirt. he was a little stressed because he was in a serious song writing block and was struggling to finish up a song. just nothing sounded good and it was really pissing him off. 

you made yourself comfortable on the couch in his studio while hongjoong went back to working on his song. you were focused on your phone, mindlessly playing a game, but you kept hearing hongjoong groaning and sighing in frustration. you stood up and walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned over, kissing his jaw. 

“what’s wrong, joongie?” you ask. 

hongjoong looked up at you and sighed. “i can’t seem to figure this song out, I don’t like anything I come up with.” he turned his chair around so he could face you. 

“i wish i could help you somehow,” you said quietly as you ran your fingers through his short hair. 

at this point hongjoong finally noticed the skirt you are wearing and how delectable your thighs look. his hands grasp your waist as he stands up to kiss you. his hands slowly trail down, brushing against your ass before he grips your thighs tightly.  he kisses your lips again before moving to your jaw and neck. he whispers against your skin, “i have an idea on how you could help.”

“mmm, what is it?” you ask as you lean your head back, allowing hongjoong more access to your neck. 

he nips at your neck before he pulls away and looks you in the eyes, his stare intense. “let me record your noises while i make you feel good, please”. 

you let in a sharp breath before quickly kissing hongjoong. “if it’ll help, then yes,” you whisper against his lips. 

you knew hongjoong always like the sounds you created while you two got intimate. he would always remind you of how pretty you sounded. the first few times you guys fucked, hongjoong was very quiet, and you got self conscious about the noises you made, so you tried your hardest to be quiet as well. you were convinced that he didn’t like your noises.

hongjoong did not like that you were being quiet. he loved the way you sounded—the small gasps and lewd moans you let out. which is why he tried to be quiet. he wanted to hear you and how he good he made you feel. so when you weren’t making the noises he so desperately needed to hear, he thought something was wrong. once you both explained to each other the reasons why you both were quiet, things changed. you no longer were self conscious of your noises and hongjoong made sure he always reminded you how much he loved to hear you. 

hongjoong deepened the kiss and pushed you towards his chair. he made you sit down—he broke the kiss and and checked to make sure he was recording audio. he got to his knees and rubbed his hands against your soft thighs. he looked up at you with a smirk. thank god you wore that skirt today, he thought. he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over the arms of his chair, allowing a perfect view of your panty covered pussy. he pressed some kisses to your left thigh while his fingers slowly danced up your right thigh, towards your core. 

“already so wet for me,” he chuckles as he slipped a finger past your panties, feeling your slick. 

hongjoong started to pull your panties off, you lifting your ass slightly to help him. once your core was free and exposed, hongjoong went back to kissing your thighs, slowly trailing up, getting closer to your cunt. “so pretty, can’t wait to make you feel so good,” he mutters before licking a thick stripe up your slit. 

you gripped the short strands of his hair as you felt him attach his lips to your clit and suck. hongjoong’s fingers quickly found their way to your entrance and he started pumping them in and out. you moaned lightly as you attempted to grind against hongjoong’s face. he giggled at your attempt and the vibrations went straight to your core. 

hongjoong removed his fingers and you whined out at the emptiness. he licked his fingers clean before diving back in, tasting your juices. his tongue plunged deep into your hole while his sharp nose pressed against your clit. again, you attempted to grind against his face, but his grip on your thighs was strong. 

you continued to let out gasps and moans as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. your nails scratched against his scalp when you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance again. his tongue circled your clit as his fingers reached for your sensitive spot. you could feel your release coming quickly. 

you let out the loudest and filthiest sounding moan, causing hongjoong to hum satisfyingly against your pussy. your toes curled as you felt your climax hit. your grip on joong’s hair became stronger as you rolled your hips against his pretty face. you could feel hongjoong smirking against you, continuing to pump his fingers as you come down from your high. 

hongjoong would not let up. he continued to abuse your cunt with his mouth and fingers, causing you to become overstimulated. the pleasure and pain was becoming too much. you were whining and begging at hongjoong to stop. but he kept going, feeling you squirm under his touch. 

“hongjoong—ah, please” you moaned out as your thighs clenched around hongjoong’s head. tears were starting to form. you were so sensitive. once again you could feel another climax hitting. 

“you can do this pretty girl,” hongjoong said as he curled his fingers up against your g spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt and the moans from your mouth were so loud and lewd. you just know hongjoong’s face was covered in your wetness. 

hongjoong finally pulled away as you started to come down from your second climax. you were right, hongjoong was covered in your slick. he looked at you with a proud smirk, before tasting his fingers that were covered in your juices. 

not even thinking, you grab hongjoong by his shirt and slam your lips against his—tasting yourself on his mouth. he groaned into the kiss, feeling himself getting harder and harder. his jeans were tight and his cock begging to be freed. 

continuing to make out, hongjoong undoes his jeans and pulls them and his underwear down just far enough to free his dick. you are quick to grab him and start to pump his cock, spreading the thick precum around his tip. hongjoong groans again as he lifts you up by your thighs and switches places with you, so now he is sitting on his chair. you are over top of him, lining your entrance up to his cock. you slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. hongjoong throws his head back as he feels your wet warmth envelop him. you lean against him and start sucking the skin against his throat. he thrusts up against you, causing you to moan against his neck. 

you were still so sensitive from hongjoong abusing your cunt with his mouth and fingers, so you were already close to coming for the third time. you start to grind against hongjoong while his fingers make way to your clit. he rubs slow circles and your walls start to clench tightly around him. more whines and moans leave your mouth as you reach your high. hongjoong’s fingers continue to abuse your clit while you ride him. 

“joong,” you gasp out, “i’m—i’m cumming!” you tremble against hongjoong as you cum on his dick. 

hongjoong lets out a low moan as he kisses you hard. “such a good girl. such a good, good girl for me. making all those pretty sounds.” he thrusts up into you a few more times before he finally cums in you. 

[yutahoes]

Dom

I'll start by apologizing because this had been requested for so long and it had been in my drafts since last year. You could definitely see the shift in the writing styles in here and I can say that I wrote better last year.

Anyways, a little indulgent smut (?) fic to celebrate the release of Depth. Have you heard of all the songs in the album? What was your favorite so far? And the MV! What are your thoughts? I can't believe we're in the YUTA SOLO ERA! We only wished for this a long time ago but here we are now. So proud to be in this moment with you, fellow Yutamis.

characters: rockstar! boyfriend! Yuta Nakamoto x girlfriend! Reader genre: smut, fluff if you squint word count: 2.5k words summary: How to dom your dom (and failing at it) warnings: BADLY WRITTEN SMUT, rockstar Yuta, topless Yuta, curse words, exhibitionism, fingering, horny reader, edging, dominatrix, submissive reader, dominant Yuta, leather, handcuffs, pussy eating, squirting, penetrative sex, riding, arm obsession (can you blame me?), LAME ENDING (Will I be making another part of this? I don't have the strength but I wanted to.)

“Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!” 

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” 

The crowd kept on shouting, begging the rockstar to grace the stage with his presence for another song. 

"Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!" 

It was a jam-packed concert. Hours of singing his original songs in front of audiences who love him and Yuta Nakamoto's rocker charisma. 

"Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!" 

"Yuta," you moaned against his ear, breathless and low. One of his hands held the wall, trapping you between the solid concrete and his lean topless body. The other cupped between your legs, fingers exploring the wettest part of your body. 

"Encore! Encore! Encore!" 

"More," you begged. You grind your hips on his fingers as you feel him smirk against the crook of your neck. "Please," You were so desperate, eager for the much-needed release that has been coiling in your stomach for a while now. "I'm close." You didn't care if the staff behind the stage were giving you side glances. You didn't care if they eyed you as a dirty woman for getting worked up backstage from your rockstar boyfriend's fingers. You just wanted that release—that orgasm. 

The crowd cheered just as a static of the microphone could be heard. Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt the coldness between your bodies. Yuta, in his sexy state with sweat beads forming on his forehead and his immaculate skin, smirked as he walked away from you. You gave him a pleading gaze as he chuckled, "Yuta.” He shrugged then stepped forward once then kissed your lips quickly.

Your much-needed orgasm. 

A step back then another step forward before he cupped your face with his hands, "Just three songs left, baby." You pouted when he ran to the stairs heading to the stage, the song turning louder along with everyone's cheers. But you cannot wait that long. 

With a huff and frustration, you went back to his dressing room. You were so annoyed at the orgasm that it transcended to your boyfriend. You can hear the fans shouting and squealing his name. That should be you, screaming his name in pleasure. Your boyfriend's voice resonated throughout the area. And you can see, from the small monitor in the room, how he commanded the stage while showing his naked torso. 

Seeing him on stage is such a turn-on. He looks so good with sweat running down the valley of his well-toned pecs. His abdomen shimmered as stage lights were focused on him. You noticed how his upper body was thicker and more pronounced in contrast to his small waist. His arms looked so delectable. How hot. Yuta's handsome face adds to the rockstar effect as he playfully sticks his tongue out or winks at the camera as if he knew you were watching. 

Fuck, you want him so bad. 

No, you fucking need him right now. 

The desperation for release led you to those explicit videos on your phone, your personal collection of your sexy time with your horny rockstar boyfriend. But still, nothing. It didn't even ease the feeling you have right now. You needed him physically. Desperately. 

You scrolled on Tiktok instead, hoping to get some feedback on your boyfriend's performance. But as you scroll up, a certain video has caught your attention. A caption can be seen with an image of a pretty girl wearing leather lingerie with some rope tied around her fists, how to dom your dom. 

You are straight. You were so sure about that. But the way the girl presented herself was super erotic. The dominatrix vibe is such a turn-on. Is this a sign that you are such a submissive? 

A smirk escaped your lips. Maybe you'll try something new today. Maybe you can give Yuta a taste of his own medicine. 

A decision has been made.

Today, you'll dom your dom. 

Your boyfriend said that he'd be done after three songs but you didn't wait for him and just went your way. You even stopped by the local sex shop you and him frequented, giddy that it was still open. The salesperson, who knew you and Yuta, was even astounded at your purchase. He even wished you good luck and hoped that you'll recover. 

A chuckle escaped your lips. It's not you who needed those words. 

You took a quick shower when you reached home, thankful that you raced Yuta on arriving. You changed to the black leather lingerie that you brought from the store, complaining that it was too tight and uncomfortable while setting the handcuffs on the headboard of the bed. Instead of a rope, you wrapped his leather belt around your fist. 

Leather is just so uncomfortable, you wanted to give up already. 

The apartment doors opened followed by footsteps then your boyfriend's voice asking if you're home. You hurriedly closed the lights to enable the mood lighting Yuta had installed just for these spicy moments. You turned on the stereo to your sex playlist then winced in pain when your toe bumped against the foot of the bed. Before the door opened, you managed to lay in bed in a provocative position that emphasized your breasts. 

Yuta’s eyes were gliding on your whole outfit before raising an eyebrow at you, “What is this?” A smirk played against his lips as he put down the duffel bag and quickly removed his tank top while moving to where you are. “I thought you were mad.” 

That piqued your interest, mad about what? He was already on the foot of the bed, hand reaching out to you when you snapped on your senses. You were supposed to be in charge tonight, not the other way around. Hastily, you kneeled on the bed to stop him from touching you. A playful smile can be seen on his lips when your hands are placed on his shoulder. “Yeah, I am mad.” You claimed with a smirk, fingers trailing south of his naked torso. “And you deserve to be punished.” 

He raised an eyebrow before you changed your position by lightly pushing him to bed and you were kneeling on top of him. “Hands up,” You blew a heavy sigh, he’s still so far from the handcuffs. “Could you please move a little bit upward?” A small smile can be seen on his lips before obeying you. 

Your knees were on both his sides as you clicked the handcuffs you bought on both his wrists. A smile appeared on your lips, he looks so good in this position. “Is this my punishment, baby?” His eyes were dark as he stared at you. Now that he mentioned it, you don’t know what to do to him next. The only idea you had in mind was to wear that leather outfit and bind him to bed with handcuffs. How would you exactly dom him? What should you do right now? 

Sensing your hesitation, Yuta chuckled. “Ride my face.” Your eyes widened at the suggestion. He would always eat you out but you never did it with you on top. Isn’t it dangerous? What if you literally sit on his face? What if you accidentally kill him? He might have sensed your hesitation that he muttered in his frustrated tone, “Hurry up, love.” 

You bit your bottom lip at that. You were horny, evident was this set-up that you made. And to be honest, you wanted to do it. Sit on Yuta’s face. He looked so delectable lying there with his hands tied to the bed. But this is deep waters that you’re scared to approach. 

Why did you plan to do this in the first place? 

This isn’t you. You would rather be whimpering under Yuta. But you’re already here and he’s accepting your actions. It’s too late to back out now.

“Y/N, ride my face.” He claimed once again, making you squint your eyes at him. Why is he still commanding you as if he wasn’t the one tied on the bed right now? Why does he still seem so dominant when you were the one who should be dominating him? 

You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow at him. You could tease him a bit. He’s tied in bed, he surely can’t do anything too much. “Beg for it.”  

A smirk appeared on Yuta’s lips as you started mounting the bed and then sitting on his thigh. “Stop teasing me.”

“I said beg, Yuta.”

“Ride my face or else.” 

He’s tied in bed. He cannot do anything. How adorable. “Or else what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

In one swift move, you were lying on your back on your king-sized bed while Yuta hovered above you. His hand held your waist in place that made you wide-eyed. “You shouldn’t have bought low-class handcuffs, love.” You raised your head to see the chains of the handcuffs broken on the headboard of the bed. “And you shouldn’t have pulled this stunt, Y/N.” His eyes were predatory, scary. “Now, be a good girl and scream only for me. Understood?” 

Yuta unhooked your leather underwear, relief washed over you that the uncomfortable feeling was now gone. But you gripped on the sheets as he replaced the material with the warmth of his mouth. He was devouring you as if you were the first meal he had for days. He ravaged your pussy, licking your clit and then sucking on it before entering your folds. Your back arched in intense pleasure but he kept on holding you, as if not wanting you to squirm. “Yuta, I’m close.” You jerked your hip up. 

You could feel him smirking and then it was gone. Your eyes widened in surprise as if you were showered with cold water. “What the hell?” You watched him remove the broken handcuffs from his wrists while kneeling on the bed, eyes on you. That image alone could send you to your orgasm. But Yuta just had to be extra sexy by biting his bottom lip and pushing his hair away from his face. Your fingers rubbed your clit, crossing your legs together, as you moaned for his name while releasing liquid on the bed sheets. 

A chuckle can be heard then a sound of metal hitting the floor. “You just have to be a horny slut and orgasm without my go signal, don’t you?” You felt the bed dipped with his weight before his thumb pushed your clit. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you properly.” 

“Yuta, I need you. Please.” 

The side of his lips curved up. “On your back, love.” You gave him a confused look before he nodded, “That was a command.” You rolled on your side, stomach lying on the bed but Yuta was already placing a pillow by your abdomen. He unhooked your leather brassiere that made you breathe heavily. A chuckle can be heard followed by his wet lips trailing along your spine. “You are so hot like this,” He whispered. “Begging. Whimpering under me.”  

Yuta slithered his arm around your hip, pulling you closer before entering you from behind. The way he did it is so flawless that you didn’t even have time to moan. You ended up grasping the sheets while screaming on the pillow. You’ve done this before and you knew that this was one of Yuta’s favorite positions but the way he’s thrusting into you from a whole new angle made you a whimpering mess under him. 

Your boyfriend must be working out secretly. You’re almost always together but you have never seen him hit the gym or anything. The heaviest you knew he would carry was you or his electric guitar. So how did he manhandle you into this new position? You felt your body pulled up from the mattress, him sitting on the bed. A moan kept on leaving your lips while bouncing on Yuta’s cock. His hands grabbed both your breasts, kissing your shoulders as he jerked his hips up to meet your thrusts halfway. His heavy breathing can be heard against your ear, turning you on. 

If possible, he pulled you closer by the waist as he released with you. Whispers of your name as if he was chanting prayers tickled your neck. “God, Y/N,” he called then kissed your lips. “As expected, all I need is you. No one else.” You giggled. How crazy are those words? When you were well aware that he’s Yuta Nakamoto and millions of other girls would fight a war for him. “I’ll prepare the tub so we can clean up, hmm?” 

It was still amazing how he could carry your body as if some doll and laid you to bed. Watching him enter the bathroom, in his all-naked glory, you marveled at how thick his arms had been. Surely, he would be working out. He sat on the edge of the bed when he returned to the room and you reached out for his arms, “You’re getting obsessed with my arms.” 

“When did you start working out?” 

“I’m not.” You raised an eyebrow at that. “Fucking you is my workout.” You rolled your eyes at that. Is he being sarcastic right now? “The things I want to do when you roll your eyes like that.” You repeated the same action, sighing while rolling your eyes, to taunt him. Yuta giggled before hovering his body above you, raising both your arms and holding them in place to kiss you roughly. “The things I badly want to do to you while you wear that leather lingerie.” 

You lightly glanced at the dark leather scattered on the foot of the bed. “It’s uncomfortable.”      

“If you want to wear something like that so bad, I can just buy you one.”  

“But you don’t like it.” It was Yuta’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I tried to dom you because those girls look so hot online but you’re not very cooperative.” 

A hearty laugh escaped his lips and you whined while hitting his chest. “Seeing you sprawled on the bed like that when I came home was hot and all, I even wanted to do your fantasy but you hesitated. You look so scared I thought you’d cry.” He even noticed that? “You’ll need a lot of practice though.” 

The side of your lips curled up at that suggestion. “Then, will you let me practice on you?” 

“Damn right. Do you have another person in mind?” You grinned, shaking your head. “I’ll even give you one-on-one lessons, love.” He kissed the valley between your breasts. “And if you were a good student,” He kissed your neck, trailing north to your ear before he whispered. “I’ll let you fuck me with a strap-on.” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “You’re so transparent.” 

A laugh escaped your lips, muttering an apology. How could your boyfriend stir something hidden inside you? Maybe you’re not as submissive as you thought. 

“Ride me in the tub?”  

You nodded, reaching both arms for him. “Carry me.” 

Yuta squinted his eyes at you, shaking his head while laughing. “Such a baby.” He carried you bridal style as you grazed your forefinger on the protruding muscles of his arms. “If I knew you would get this obsessed with my arms, I would have hit the gym earlier.” 

Your eyes widened at that, lightly hitting him in betrayal. “You are working out!” 

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … GOOD GRACES ♡

track three of the short n’sweet series. pairing: toxicex!johnb x reader. based loosely off the song good graces by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

it was a tactic to get john b’s attention and that was so clear to him. whatever you were doing was fucking working, and that irritated him.

john b would like to say he was a pretty calm and reasonable guy, but as he stands in the centre of some random girls pool party, watching you hanging off the arm of some douchebag kook— he can’t help but nearly squeeze all the alcohol out of his red solo cop. he settles on shakily bringing it to his lips instead, eyes not leaving your form as he sips the bitter liquor down. shit, that was strong. but not as strong as the burning jealousy in his chest.

he knew how it looked — the jealousy, the rage in his eyes. there were very few things that could get him this wired up and maybe the copious amounts of alcohol in his body wasn’t helping, but if you didn’t stop grinding your bikini bottom clad ass against that random guys shorts, barely offering the pogue boy a glance over your shoulder — there’d be hell to pay. like mentioned, he could be pretty calm and reasonable, but tonight he felt like breaking a kooks jaw.

he saw the opportunity to get to you arise when your new friend left your side for a moment to play a round of beer pong, which is when john b all but wrapped a hand round your arm and kidnapped you into a nearby hallway.

“jesus, what are you doing you psycho?” you accuse — loud, unabashed and clearly tipsy. the brunette squints, used to your theatrics.

“you serious? hm? him? you brought that guy?” he deadpans, tilting his head expectantly as if waiting for an answer.

“are you serious? i can bring who i want where i want. we’re broken up.” you huff, sticking your chin in the air stubbornly as you cross your arms over your chest. maybe his hormones were all out of whack, but he swears you’re doing it to press your tits together and get a rise out of him. he clenches his fist, pressing his lips together in self restraint.

“do you know how much that’s killing me? like — like can you imagine the scene you’d cause if i came here with a girl— no, not just a girl— a kook girl?” he whisper yells, looming over you and god do you wanna be pissed off. but in that backwards cap and baggy tshirt, your ex boyfriend looks more than delectable and it fuels you beyond belief to see that he still cares so much. perhaps you’d throw him a bone, addicted to putting him through the pain he put you through when you were together.

a salacious smile spreads across your glossed lips as you stare up at him, waiting for him to finish his little tantrum.

“you know, you should talk to me nicely john b. especially if you want to get in my good graces.” you drag it out slowly, like every word had a double meaning attached to it and now he’s falling back a little, face falling in realisation that you might be on the same page tonight. he blinks, staring you down for a few more moments just to make sure before shaking his head and ushering you borderline violently to the bathroom at the end of the hall. he’s sure your friend wouldn’t miss you too sorely.

as soon as that doors locked, john b is doing the one thing he’d been dying to do all night — and that was drop to his knees and force your legs open, locking eyes with you solemnly as he peels your bikini bottom to the side. it’s to no surprise, you’re soaking wet to the point where he couldn’t believe it wasn’t leaking out the sides for the world to see. for such a sweet and innocent girl, you sure did get off on toxic foreplay.

“i can’t believe you.” he huffs, hot breath making your folds flutter for him and you lean your warm body against the cold tiles, pulling his head to your cunt where it belonged.

“please.” you shudder, and now you’re the one begging — needing the hot mouth of your ex boyfriend to dull the ache. he feels some power regained, knowing that you had such arousal that could only be tamed by him.

“yeah? been waiting for this puppy?” he coos as he kisses around your pubic mound, thick finger wiggling its way to your sopping hot hole that awaited him.

“jus’ dont tease, c’mon.” you plead and he decides to stick to the words you told him. good graces, you said — and what better what to get into your good books than to make you cum so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up against the bathroom wall any longer?

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞)❞

: ̗̀➛ overview: matching jjk boys to lyrics from 'one of the girls' by the weeknd, this is part one of a five part mini series.

: ̗̀➛ tw; afab!reader w/no gendered language. seriously nasty writing, the lyrics posted before the blurb indicate what kinks will be included. intentional lowercase.

: ̗̀➛ a/n: this was entirely self indulgent like i was replaying that song on repeat and something not worthy of seeing heaven hatched inside of me. so, was born this series. it will include choso, geto, yuta, toji, and gojo!

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO { heavy biting, sadism, blood kink, praise }

"i love when you're submissive / love it when i break skin / you feel pain without flinchin' / so say it"

choso stares down at the body splayed below him. eyes tracing curves, dips, edges. all the way up from thighs to hips to waist, and up and up until he's making his way back down again. marveling at the way your skin is flushed, at the artwork displaying proudly.

his artwork.

a mirage of pinks and purples blotching at your neck, your collarbones, you inner thighs. handprints reddening the sensitive skin of your ass, crest shaped impressions where his nails dug in a bit too hard.

and then the bite marks. littering almost every inch of your body where choso has travelled. imprints of his canines carving themselves into you, fangs creating divets, saliva glistening from where he’s licked his apology for being so cruel. the sight of you like this is utterly delectable. so marked up, so his.

choso hums and lowers his head down again, this time at an empty spot on your collarbone, just above your heart.

he wraps his teeth around the sinfully soft skin and bites. harsh, until he can feel his jaw locking under the pressure.

you whine so beautifully for him. body so pliant after three rounds of mindnumbing orgasms- yet, to his amusement, you still somehow find the energy to squirm under his heavy hands. “c-cho, s’too hard, gonna make me bleed,” you cry softly.

and choso is no better than the lust that courses through him at that moment. the mere ideas pulling a strained moan past his lips. bleed. he can make you bleed for him.

“s’alright, hun, i’ll clean ya up after. promise,” he speaks the words through gritted teeth.

choso kitten licks at a spot on your neck. once, then twice, sucking on the skin gently. testing the elasticity, savoring in the warmth. if he focuses hard enough, he thinks he can feel your blood pumping beneath his lips. his fingers thump, thump, thump, in time with every faux beat of your heart.

then, choso scrapes his teeth. a warning, giving you only a second to prepare before he's snaking his jaw open and biting. mouth clamping down around you, harsh and unforgiving and painful. your back arches under him with a gasp. one of his hands traverse around your waist and cusps at the dip.

holding you close, pulling you in further, almost comforting despite the burning sensation at your neck. choso hums out in pleasure. the vibrations travel through you, right to the fire-y pit in your lower tummy.

only a bit more pressure, and choso is feeling the layers of skin tear beneath his teeth. blood pricks out from the freshly opened wound, dripping down into the space between his lips. it hits his tongue and almost on instinct, he laps at it. sucking on his bite and drawing more and more blood out, until it's coating his tongue and he can taste you.

choso moans, loud and unabashed. you're fucking killing him, tasting so good. so sweet.

he pulls himself away a few seconds later, teeth extracting from your skin with a wet pop!, and looks down at the new bite mark. a mixture of his saliva and your blood lewdly drips from the wound down to your collarbone. he takes the invitation gladly, tongue darting out to clean up the mess he's made of you.

you whine from below him once again, tone shaky, "choso,"

he nods knowingly, the hand on your back massaging gently. "i know, i know. doing so good for me, sweetheart. taste so good,"

he blindly reaches toward the nightstand next to your tangled bodies. his hand finds the warm washcloth he had set out beforehand and uses it to dab at your aching skin.

"want me to go run a bath, hm?" he whispers as he presses chaste kisses to your face. he knows he can be so much sometimes, too much, but you always take it so well. take him so well. the least he can do is take care of your fragile body afterward.

so, when you nod, he gladly untangles his limbs from yours, and sets off to run a warm bath.

all the while, choso can still taste the remnants of you on his tongue.

[theres-no-room-in-this-hell]

three cheers for sweet revenge is such a perfect album sfjgklejgfj just the lore behind it and the songs and the cover and everything about it there isn't one bad song on that album like helena is such an amazing song to start it out with and THE LYRICS and i love give 'em hell kid it's so silly and it's sooo jdfkllgtru and then TO THE END??? they put drugs in that one istg!!!! you know what they do to guys like us in prison is also perfect in every way shape and form and it itches my brain in all the right places and MY CELLMATE'S A KILLER HE MAKES ME DO PUSH UPS IN DRAG and then I'M NOT OKAY?!?!?!?!? the ultimate emo anthem also perfect in every way and the music video too??? and then of course there's ghost of you which makes me ascend into heaven every time i hear it, it is absolutely flawless and then there's the jetset life is gonna kill you ksjdfhkjegfkjsdgfkjewgfk how does an album have so many perfect songs i wanna eat it and then interlude?? it's the perfect way to cut an album in half and idc what anyone says interlude is my CHILD i birthed it i love it it's mine and then there's thank you for the venom the guitar is so delectable and everything about the song is delectable RAAAAAAHHH and then there's also hang 'em high??? like the lil cowboy vibe it has going on is amazing and i just refheklgj!!!! it's not a fashion statement it's a fucking deathwish is faultless, 10/10, amazing. and CEMETERY DRIVE?!?!?!? the drums, the vocals, the lyrics, consume my very being my atoms are made up of cemetery drive this one is also my child but it's my favorite child best song on the album imo AND THEN THE ALBUM ENDS WITH I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DID FOR A LIVING!!!!!! best way to end an album, i want to inhale it, i WILL inhale it, i want it to lobotomize me i love it wehjfdjgfadwkbjgfehbmvjshbm and the fact that all these songs are on the SAME ALBUM?????? SOBBING I LOVE THREE CHEERS FOR REVENGE SO FUCKING MUCHHHHHH

[signedeclipse]

Hii!! Can you do like a hantengu clones (NOT separate) x fem reader nsfw one shot? Reader is a complete virgin and she’s in a poly relationship with the clones ♡︎♡︎

All For You | Part 2 [Hantengu X Reader]

Reader is Human Female | NSFW | Part 1 HERE Final HERE

Recomended Song - Killshot by Magdelena Bay

A whirlwind of emotions crept through you, acting on both fight and flight, leaving you paralyzed, basically limp.

The oldest of the four had you lifted into his arms. They were so hard you'd almost believe he was made of lead, had it not been for the comfortable warmth of the flesh.

He was holding your torso up with one arm, the other under your knees and holding you as close as he possibly could, as if afraid you'd be taken by the others that were tripping over one another to catch a glimpse at you.

"Are...are you going to kill me?" You had been gazing up at his face, though his kanji eyes only glanced down every once in a while, only meeting your gaze as he knelt down, laying you in the spread of your futon that you'd not yet put away from previous use. Despite the pounding of your heart, no matter how much adrenaline you held, you lay paralyzed under the strength of Sekido's gaze.

"Hmm... should we?" Two claws hands had grabbed your ankles, pushing them up so your knees buckled and pushed into the air, allowing for the green-eyes demon to be visible between your legs.

You shook your head, even if you could hear the teasing tone dripping from his tone.

When you thought back to the shivering mess you had saved a week ago, it made no sense that within him these four prospered. Clearly, it was him, if he were younger and more courageous, but there were four of him.

The thumbs of the hands firmly squeezing your ankles rubbed slow circles, and eventually teased their way up and down your calves, curiously eating up the warmth of your skin.

"You've all scared our poor girl so badly, when you should be thanking her for saving us..." the whispering tone came from above you, the quietest of the bunch having stealthed his way to sit seiza.

His blue eyes were a calm abyss, the kind that pulled you from the feeling of the sassy one tracing his nails into your skin.

"I assure you, there's no thanking needed...!" As embarrassing as it was, your cheeks were beginning to burn with the heat of the demeaning nature of the position they had put you in.

Before you could push yourself up, Urogi had landed his bird's feet onto the arm attempting to move, though his talons sunk only into the floor, avoiding your skin and effectively trapping you.

"Then consider it a token of gratitude! We won't be leaving until we are certain you know how much you mean to us." Crouching so he could be an easier distance from your face, he used a claws finger to press into your bottom lip, puncturing it enough for a bead of blood to form, which he leaned in and licked straight from your mouth, shuddering in pleasure at your delectible taste.

"And now that we know just how sweet you are, it'd be impossible to back away!" The look of shock on your face from Urogi's affection only drew him in more, dusting his feathers along your stomach, separated only by cloth. "You deserve this, for being so good to us."

"Awe, no fair! I wanted to taste her!" Karaku chuckled out, his hands having slowly made their way up to your thighs, pushing into the squishy flesh with ease.

You seemed to understand that behind his words was another yearning, one which was confirmed as he kept attempting to inch closer to your inner thighs.

When you tensed your legs, trying to push him away, Aizetsu's hands pushed into your hair, carefully weaving through as to not force any knots so he could brush through it, massaging into your scalp in a way you'd never had before, melting all your tension away.

As each clone closed in on you, Sekido seemed to merely watch the other three, making sure none went too far with you, though in between each check the red glow of his eyes was back on your face, watching each emotion twist into reality, studying your precious features before his look-alikes ruined it.

Each sensation from each clone became overwhelming, making any changes harder to notice as they each inches closer, pushed deeper, cooed louder- but though the feeling of your top slipping up your stomach was unmistakable, you found yourself unable to focus on it, or care when the same happened to your bottoms, eventually lost to the dark corners of the room.

Despite the room being well lit, it was hard to look anywhere but their eyes, which had a distinct glow from the rest of the darkened world, you noticed Karakus face was so close to your thighs that the green luminescence reflected onto your skin, dipping lower, until it was below your line of sight.

Aizetsu seemed to realise you were at a disadvantage laying so flat, and shuffled his hips closer so your head was propped up on his lap.

It allowed you to see the mess of your shirt tangled in one of Urogi's claws, among other things.

Karaku was carelessly dragging his tongue up the fabric of your underwear, the saliva dripping down only further wetting the thin layer between his mouth and your most precious gift, which was enough to send electricity through your spine.

No later where you arch your back into the touch of Urogi's claws that dragged up your sternum, slicing straight through the attaching fabric of your bra. He happily dragged his tongue flat along one, swiping at the nipple before gently blowing cool air onto it, interested in how you shivered and squirmed at his attempts of arousing you.

"I- I-"

"Shhh, there's no reason to speak, just let us take care of you now." Aizetsu's voice was akin to a lullaby, erasing the words from your tongue.

Karaku chuckled into your skin, amused at the exchange, before copying his feathered clone and tearing his claws through the last of your coverings, hovering above your pussy with a desire he held more than that for blood and bone.

He'd been trying to pursue this urge for so long, and now, with his own body, you were laid out in front of him like a five star buffet.

The grip on your thighs tightened, holding despite any attempt you made to either pull them away or push them together. He was unmovable unless he wanted to be, and right now his desire outweighed yours.

Impatient, as always, he pushed his tongue up between your folds, eagerly lapping at your heat like nothing but a hungry mutt, again, and again, and again, careless of the way your back arched, or how your breath hitched.

In fact, Sekido could practically smell the euphoria coming off of you once Karaku began, enticed by the way your pretty moans twirled in the air when he'd pause to suck at your clit, god, the roughness of his hand was palming at his crotch through his clothes, getting off just by watching the other clones toy with you.

Your sounds were delicious, but Aizetsu couldn't help but worry someone might pass by and hear your struggles to catch your lost breath.

To ease his own anxiety, the sorrowed demon allowed one hand to caress your cheek, pushing his thumb up against your lips when you sealed your mouth at the touch.

Sensing Aizetsu's struggle, Urogi grinned against the flesh of the other nipple he had begun to attack, leaning in and gently nibbling with his teeth.

One gasp was all it took, and thanks to Urogi, Aizetsu could firmly press his thumb into your tongue, which instinctively had your mouth close around his finger.

It was embarrassing, but he seemed to find it terribly cute, cooing down at you.

"You love it so much, don't you? I knew we could help you, just let us finish up."

Rather than waiting for a reply, Aizetsu helped you nod by using his thumb to push down, and the hand in your hair to tug your head back up.

Grunting, Sekido ignored Aizetsu and Urogi's childish play to glare down at the way Karaku feasted upon your squirming hips, enticed by the lapping sounds created by his saliva mixed with your dripping desperation, distinctive for its whitish colour.

It seems he had turned his attention at the right time, because Karaku seemed to be getting antsy with you, pulling your hips closer to his face to the point all Sekido saw was the demon's hair curling over and sticking to your thighs, along with his distinctive horns.

Of course he was correct, because as Karaku forced his tongue in and out of your drenched pussy, pulling you closer and closer to your high, he pulled away, licking up the very string that attached you to enjoy the remainder of your sweetness.

"I think our doll is perfectly ready~" Despite Karaku's tug at you, Anyone could tell he was just aching to feel the same ecstasy he had gifted you, and claim more of that glorious body to himself.

Aizetsu glanced down, wanting to make sure you were okay with going forward, and was easily persuaded by the hazy look in your eyes, followed by a muffled whine.

Slowly, he shuffled back, leaving you flat on your back once more, though the movement of his hand carefully tilted your head as far back as it could go, looking straight at his crotch as he fumbled his only free hand to unto his pants, pushing them down lazily.

Surprisingly, he let go and pulled his thumb from your mouth, letting you pant once, twice, before being silenced once more by placing the head of his cock against your lips.

Who were you to deny him? Of course, you let your jaw come loose, allowing the blue eyed boy to slowly push his length into your mouth, stopping about halfway when you seemed to struggle.

"Hnn, that's a good girl, please, I know you can do more for me..." As always, his soothing voice was more than welcomed to your ears.

It was with a surprising ease he was able to push the remainder in, watching the bulge from in your throat. He pulled back, listening to the sweet noise of your throat closing behind him, and pushed all the way back a little faster, infatuated with watching his length stretch through your neck.

Perfectly distracted handling Aizetsu's weak thrusts, Karaku took a moment to admire his work, pushing the his hand up through your folds and teasing the clit between two fingers just to feel the slick that was left behind, and dragging it back down so he could squeeze a finger or two into your used hole, chuckling to himself at the way you sucked his fingers right in.

"How about another, doll?" Reaching a clawed hand into the depth of his sweatpants, Karaku spent a fraction of a moment stroking the leftover juices on his hand all over his cock. He wanted to make sure he'd do what he did best; give and receive pleasure.

Lining up the tip, he only pushed in an inch or two for you to drink up, giving him to lift your hips up and set your ankles on his shoulders, giving him the perfect position to continue pushing, holding one hand down on your abdomen to keep you from moving too much.

Fuck, did that feel good, his length pulled right in by your needy hole. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to take you right then and there, but he knew to be gentle with something so fragile.

Carefully, he worked his way to match Aizetsu's pace, each pumping in at opposite times, so you weren't too overwhelmed.

Sekido had managed to slip a hand under his kimono, sucking in air as he pumped his own cock to the rhythm of the other two. As much as he would have loved to be in any of their places, he was well off just watching you take them so utterly greedily.

There wasn't a single moment that went by without one of them pushing into you, sloppy noises filling the room and mixing everyone's small gasps, grunts and moans together.

Urogi continued to abuse your bouncing tits, happily abusing them as they moved with his look-alikes movements. It was only natural that he had eventually allowed your hand to let go, though he quickly caught it.

"Me too, doll!" Although far less considerate, Urogi was kind enough to guide your hand to his rather smooth cock, which felt far different than the others.

It was smooth, and as you wrapped your hand around the pointed tip to drag down, you felt a considerable bulge near its base, nearly making you choke on Aizetsu as he fastened his pace, which distracted you enough to mindlessly pump the length of Urogi's strange size.

As easy as it was, the feathered one seemed very pleased, letting his head fall back with a delighted groan, keeping his hand wrapped around yours to help guide you up and down, squeezing when he wanted you to tighten your grip.

"Just like that babe, what a natural~" His cocky words were probably lost, but it seemed he still enjoyed teasing you for being such a slut.

Even as you felt yourself getting sloppy, none of them relented, seemingly content with even the bare minimum from you, pushing into your holes like they were godsend, or just watching you as if you were a muse.

It left you on cloud nine, the hypnotic pounding, the sounds they made, the belittling, the compliments, the obsessive eyes pouring onto your frame.

They didn't just love you, no, they were fucking obsessed with you.

After that, time meant nothing, all that mattered was that eventually things hit a peak, and everything snapped at once. 

Karaku’s thrusts became inhuman, slapping his hips into your ass continuously, until his hands dug deep enough to bruise, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix before releasing the thick, heavy fluid belonging to something beyond human. 

It wasn’t much longer before Aizetsu introduced you to the liquid’s taste, pulling back enough so just his tip was left between your puckered lips, pouring it down your throat without a care, though not removing himself until he was certain you had swallowed it down. 

But you managed, and with a satisfying pop from both ends, you were inhaling the freshest air you had ever inhaled, and shuddering out a weak exhale as the cum from your pussy ebbed out along your sheets, likely staining the white colour with something much, much different. 

Urogi and Sekido came last, though Urogi made a show of splashing his across your stomach and tits, letting the fluid pour its way through every crevasse, and down every edge. 

No one dared move, merely letting each other's breaths mix in the cool air, basking in the feeling of it all. It was so silent, no one noticed you had fallen over the edge of a deep slumber until Aizetsu bent down to ask if you were alright. 

“Ah… sleep well then, dolly.”

Author Note -  Since this request is very inline with my previous story and I got so many requests for a part two, I decided to use this request for it!

Word Count - 2,542

Art Credit - 葵鬼 (Pixiv)

Tags - @somefancybb @fabimaou @trickvinder @sleepypotoo @hahahaha120 @swagaliciousguichibaka

[theonewiththefanfics]

Dare to Hope, Dare to Dream (Part 2/?)

Synopsys: For three years now, Astarion and his love have been relegated to living in the shadows as he lost his ability to walk in the sun. But one day hope is reignited, and the vampire can't help but reminisce how he got where he is now.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: violence, abuse, talks of SA, character death, SMUT (if there is anything else that should be tagged, please do let me know)

Word count: 5830

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 1

The composing of the letter was quick work, as excitement thrummed through their veins, but every passing day diminished the accumulating hope.

It was agonising, waiting for Gale to respond. Where usually Astarion’s mind was preoccupied with Y/N, now it was occupied by that damned tome and that damned fucking page he couldn’t read.

There was a huge possibility it could be nothing but a simple song or a poem. It could be a curse for all he knew, but something in his still heart screamed it could be the thing that set him free from living in eternal darkness and making his love live like that too.

He’d give anything, pay any price for Y/N to be able to walk in the sun again, and if his hand was in hers, wrapped around her waist or tucked against his chest as they enjoyed the wonders of the world in colour, not the perpetual greys of night, he would beg on his knees if he had to.

His love didn’t seem to be fairing any better. She was fidgety all the time, where she used to be able to sit and watch Astarion patching up a shirt of hers or adding gorgeous swirls of gold and silver, now she organised and cleaned his whole tailoring room over and over again. Y/N cooked almost obsessively, way too much food for just one of them to eat, and it almost drove him mad how restless she’d become during sleep as well.

Worry ate at him that Y/N hadn’t gotten proper rest in days, all because of that damned book. Would it be worth it? Would her losing sleep be worth it in the end? Nothing that hurt her was, not in Astarion’s mind, but whenever he asked her to leave something be, said that he’d pick it up, she’d simply shrug and say, “No time like the present.”

Taking into account his feedings as well, his heart twisted at the thought that all of this was weighing on her shoulders, but luckily at least some of the burden of wait was lifted when Gale’s answer came.

To their relief, the wizard gave them good news and apologies, as he’d travelled beyond the Sword Coast with his grandfather, but would be taking the first available ship to Baldur’s Gate. It would take at least three weeks of travelling, but he would waste no time beyond that and go straight to their home, and that left the two anxious lovers to occupy their time however they could.

Y/N had already rearranged the whole library twice by then, half in search of figuring out where this mysterious book had come from, half in absolute boredom, while Astarion had taken to sowing and stitching dresses and tunics and shirts and trousers and even a gorgeous set if not a scandalous one of lingerie for Y/N (which he had promptly ripped to shreds that same morning she’d donned it to go to bed).

She’d admonished him through a desperate moan, as his tongue had skimmed against her neck, lace scraps still around her ribs and hips, nothing more left of the intricate design he’d so patiently made. Not that it’d covered much in the first place.

“I’ll make you hundreds more just to rip all of it off again,” Astarion groaned as her hips ground up against him, delicious friction causing him to respond in kind.

“But it was so beautiful!” Y/N whined when Astarion took her wrists in one of his hands and held them in a tight grip above their heads.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you completely bare and uncovered for me. So… delectable…”

Let’s just say neither of them could get out of bed after the sun had set, as their legs wobbled at the lightest touch to the ground, leading them to another day of sleeping in, and a night of passionate debauchery.

However, as much as Astarion wished to stay like that with Y/N, both of them naked and twined in bed, other things had to be done around the house, and at that moment, he’d asked Y/N to model a dress for her.

He didn’t dare say the cut was based on a sketch hidden deep in his drawers, and originally it was made of white lace with an accompanying veil, not the jade colour he’d cut it in now.

“Do you think we’re harbouring false hope?” she asked, colour-coding his threads and placing the box neatly back on the table after Astarion allowed her to redress and was happy with how the skirt flew around her hips.

“In what way, my dear?”

“I just,” Y/N huffed, sitting down on the arm of the chair next to him, watching how his quick fingers stilled their needlework so as to not poke her accidentally. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if this… if this isn’t what we think it is. I know how much you miss the sun.” Y/N gently threaded her fingers through his moon-white locks. “I know how guilty you feel for me having to forego it. You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted whatever was on Astarion’s tongue. “I can see it on your face.”

He looked down at the green gown’s hem he was embellishing. He’d tried so hard to hide the guilt seeping through his veins. He didn’t want her to know that; he already burdened her life as is.

“I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt if what we hope doesn’t come true.” Astarion put the needle and dress on the table, turning to Y/N and pulling her into his lap. “I wish I could give you the world, but I can barely give you half… if even that much. You deserve so much more than what you’ve deemed enough. I just want to… give you more…”

“My Star, please don’t even think you’re not enough for me.” Y/N brushed a pale curl behind his ear.

He gave her a rueful smile. “A little mind-reader you are, aren’t you?”

She simply shrugged, melting against his chest, his undead heart beating just a tad stronger at how much comfort she got from simply being held by him. “It’s not so hard nowadays when you’ve become an open book to me.”

Astarion had nothing to respond to that because he knew he had, at least with Y/N. He might not voice it out loud, but his heart was open. Yes, fear still lingered in bleeding gashes around the edges, but he knew, she’d always be there to dab at the pained spots and heal them with a kiss.

“I’m not leaving,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not now, not ever. Not when the sun sets or rises. An army would have to come in and tie me up before dragging me away from you. And even then, I’d be kicking and screaming, biting my way out to get home.”

Astarion’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t mention what the words of her referring to him as her home did to him. “I just want if only a minute to stand in the sun with you. If that’s all I’m given for the rest of eternity, it’s what I’ll take. Just a moment with you in the sun.”

Y/N took his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, tilting his head up so their eyes could meet – his scarlet ones brimming with unshed tears, her own Y/E/C ones filled with nothing but sure-fire determination. “Whatever is in that book, spell or no, we’ll figure it out. But one day, I know, you will be able to walk in the sun again. I’ll make sure of it. Even if I have to raise all nine hells, I’ll find a way.”

“I know you will.” Astraion sighed, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Y/N’s laughter was the most gorgeous symphony to his ears. She gave a light kiss to the very tip of his right one, a shiver of pleasure rushing down his spine. “We’ll figure it out, my Star.”

That morning, just a couple of hours after their conversation, as Y/N was closing all the shutters to their home so as to not let in the sun of the new day, Astarion slid his palm into hers, tugging her to their bed while kissing every inch of her skin he could get to.

He needed to be close to her, he needed to sink into her and fuse together, become as close to one body as possible, otherwise, it was like he was going to combust from the love unless he could bathe her in it.

“I need you,” Astarion whispered against her cheek, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You have me,” she responded in kind. “All of me is yours if you want it.”

A shudder went through his body as he swiftly, but tenderly rid both of them of their clothes, gentle hands running over Y/N’s hips and sides, as she lightly squirmed away from him when he playfully dug his fingers against her ribs, before trailing their way to her stomach, where a jagged scar stood slightly raised against the rest of her body.

“And I’m yours. Body and soul,” Astarion said, still looking at that scar while he slowly slipped his frame to rest atop, his cock sliding through her already slick folds, lightly nudging his tip against her clit in a teasing manner.

“Mine,” Y/N sighed out dreamily, as he filled her, her legs locking around his hips, ankles crossed over the small of his back to pull him deeper until their hips rested flush against one another.

A slight whimper escaped him as he affirmed. “Yours… just yours, my love.”

He’d never thought that such a word as “mine” would bring him such feelings of love and adoration.

Astarion had always wanted to belong. He’d always wanted a family, friends or a true lover to build his life with, but for a horribly long time, all because of Cazador, that wish was locked away in a tomb just like him. And after a while of pain and misery, he just gave up on the idea as a whole. Belonging to someone became a despised thing, a notion he had no free will. He was a pet, a thing to be had and done with as his master pleased.

But then that Nautiloid ship happened, and he gained allies. Who morphed into friends, and then Y/N, the oddest one of their group, became so much more than that.

That night when he’d offered himself to her, he’d been ready to use his body as coin, as he’d been taught, if it granted him food, shelter and protection. Astarion was used to whoring himself out, but that wouldn’t be the worst he’d done. At least Y/N was nice to look at. She included him in conversations during the day and asked for his opinion. It would most certainly be lovelier than the other times.

Yet she’d surprised him and said no. She still offered him all the things he asked for, even her neck if he needed to feed, but Y/N was adamant she would not take sex as payment for such things.

Astarion took a surprised step back. “Am I – do I not appeal to you?”

Why did it sting? Why did the thought of the answer being “yes” hurt so much?

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s just that you don’t have to ask for those things and sleep with me as payment.”

“Oh.” That stumped him truly. His mind reeled at her words. “Then what is it that you want?” A cheeky comment was right there for him to spit out, but he refrained.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe patch a hole in a shirt, if it gets too ruined? Help me carry part of my loot if it gets too heavy? We’re friends, or at least good travel companions, I’d like to think.”

That moment had changed everything for Astarion. It had changed how he looked at himself and what he could ask of the world. She’d helped him learn he could say no.

When Y/N had been close to decapitating that vile Drow Araj after she looked at him like he was a puppet for Y/N to use, Astarion had confessed that night – his whole plan of seducing her, securing his safety and getting in her good graces so he always had someone to have his back if suddenly the rest of their party decided to turn against him.

The kiss they’d shared, initiated by Astarion himself, felt like the first kiss of his life. He was jittering like a youth as Y/N’s lips pressed to his. And for the first time in ages, he thought maybe he had someone, to be with not belong to.

When she cried out in ecstasy as Astarion started to move, slowly dragging his hips back and forth, allowing her to feel every ridge and dip and immersing himself in the warm, wet feeling surrounding him, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander to that moment in the Szarr Palace when Y/N had cried in pain instead as Cazador’s knife dug deep into her gut.

She’d gone in for an attack in an attempt at freeing Astarion from the grasp of the Ascension ritual, and she had almost gotten Cazador, had the vampire not moved in the last second, twisting away from her sword and delivering the critical hit himself.

Someone screamed so loud, the sound verged on popping Astarion’s eardrums. It was only when his throat went raw he realised it was him screaming.

Cazador didn’t even bother to pull the knife out, letting Y/N drop to the ground in a heap, her blood trickling out of her wound and pooling around her body, staining the tiles a deep red.

Astarion wanted to retch at the sight.

“Pathetic,” Cazador spat. “Both of you.”

Nothing but white-hot rage coursed through Astarion’s veins as he watched his master walk around Y/N’s crumpled form, nudging her with his foot as if she were nothing more than a worm.

“I cannot deny,” Cazador mussed. “For a brief second, I did consider turning her into a new addition to our family. It would have been fitting – my prodigal son, returning and bringing the last piece I need. A fitting punishment, for your disobedience, Astarion, wouldn’t you agree? You’ve broken pretty much all of my rules, and someone has to pay.”

Cazador turned his back on Y/N, obscuring Astarion's view of her. “And how poetic would have it been, had it been you draining her, taking every last drop of her blood, only for me to sire. I think I would have enjoyed your screaming immensely, but no matter. It would only be a waste of time.” The vampire master smirked at a struggling Astarion. “Tell me – was her blood sweet? It smells absolutely delectable. Maybe I should have a little taste.”

“Fuck you!” Astarion roared. “Damn you to all nine hells!”

Cazador only chuckled. “Maybe a couple of decades in that tomb of yours will do you good. Remind you of manners. Or maybe I will let Godey -,” but he didn’t manage to finish whatever horrors he was already painting in his mind as he choked on the words.

The vampire’s dark brows furrowed as he slowly glanced down and saw a blade protruding from his stomach, the hilt buried deep against his spine.

Surprise, anger and confusion all flashed across the immortal’s face as Y/N yanked the dagger out. Cazador slowly turned and found Y/N standing before him, a hand clutching against her stomach.

“That,” she gasped. “Is for what you did to me and this,” she thrust her hand again, this time letting the blade go clean through Cazador’s neck, “is for what you did to Astarion.”

She left the blade there, taking a few steps back on swaying feet, but it was enough of a distraction to break Cazador’s concentration and Astarion dropped free.

He was on his feet in an instant, pulling the knife Y/N had plunged back out and then smashing it deep into Cazador’s gut over and over and over again until there was nothing left of him but a mangled, almost cut-in-two, corpse.

Astarion dropped to his knees, chest heaving with exertion, his whole body covered in blood, all of it Cazador’s. Who was dead.

Cazador was dead.

His master, his torturer, the one who robbed him of his life and choices was finally gone.

Relief rolled through him like a tidal wave, his body slowly but surely wracked by sobs as catharsis set in. Two hundred years of pain and misery, two hundred years of not owning his body or mind, and now he was suddenly free.

He didn’t know how to process such a realisation. It seemed almost easier to live his life in fear, to constantly look over his shoulder and go to bed with the thought his miracle of a chance at life could be taken away at any moment. In that way, he didn’t have to create friendships or relationships, he didn’t need to get close to anyone and risk losing them. He could just always keep peeking through the tiny slit from the boarded-up window, instead of poking his head through the crack in the door.

So what was he to do now, when that door had been blasted wide open?

“Y/N,” Astarion whispered her name, his head snapping up and scanning the hall, quickly landing on her body.

She’d collapsed about fifteen feet away from Cazador, but it took him less than five seconds to be by her side. With trembling hands, he took her by the shoulder and turned her on her back, so he could see her face.

A sob raked through him. “Please,” Astarion begged, pulling her head to rest on his thighs. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Star,” his name was a moan of pain from Y/N’s lips. And he hated it.

It was supposed to be a sigh of pleasure as his tongue lapped against her sweetest spot, a groan of delight when he sank into her, his hands holding hers, lips pressed together in a reassuring kiss. It was supposed to be a laugh between hiccups as he joked and snarked. It was supposed to be anything but this.

Her body was covered in so much blood, and had it been Cazador’s he would have been fine, but he knew it wasn’t. It was her own, that sweet and tantalizing scent of it running up his nose. Usually, the tiniest drop of it, could turn him feral, but all it did now was make bile rise in his throat as more and more of it coated his hands and the floor around them.

“I’ll complete the ritual,” he choked, brushing a strand of matted-down hair away from Y/N’s face. “And then I’ll save you.”

“Don’t,” she gasped, begging him. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t let you die,” he could barely manage the words, but she still heard them and shook her head.

“And I will not let you kill innocents just to save my life.” Y/N clutched at his arm as tightly as she could with all her remaining strength that was weaning with every passing second. “If you do this, I will never forgive you. You’ll become just like Cazador. And I know you are so – so much more than that. Than him. Don’t let Cazador win. You – you fought so hard,” she sobbed out, half at the implication of what he’d overcome, half at Astarion pressing down on her wound as he attempted to staunch the bleeding, but to no avail. “Don’t throw all of it away. Not for this.”

Astarion swivelled his head around desperately as if a response on what to do could be found in the room, yet nothing but Cazador’s mangled body and the pool of blood it’d created answered.

“Please,” he whispered, leaning down and pressing his forehead to Y/N’s and once again repeated. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” her response was barely a puff of air. “I will always be right here with you, Star. To the very end.”

Y/N placed her palm right where his undead heart broke into pieces, and when she closed her eyes, the only sound left was the echoes of his screams.

He might’ve been screaming for ages, Astarion didn’t know nor did he care. All he knew was that his love, his sun, his reason for living was gone.

The sound of the door being broken down invaded his mind, as many pairs of footsteps entered, but Astarion paid no mind to his friends. They could all go to the nine hells with Cazador for his sake, as long as he got to stay with Y/N.

He heard Karlach, the gentle giant of their group gasp out Y/N's name, and even Lae’Zel’s hiss of surprise was unmistakable, the scene before them rendering the rest speechless.

“She almost looks like she’s sleeping,” Astarion muttered, tracing his knuckles against Y/N’s cold skin. So close to his own temperature he didn’t feel the difference. A tear splashed against her cheek, rolling down her temple and disappearing into her hairline.

“Astarion, Shadowheart can help,” Wyll said, stepping closer, but the pale elf just shook his head.

“No,” he muttered, tracing her unmoving features with his thumb. “No one will hurt her. Not anymore.”

“Astarion, she won’t hurt Y/N,” Gale piped up. “We can bring her back.”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. He didn’t care what they were saying. No one else would ever touch her. No one would ever dare hurt her again. He’d set the world on fire if they so much as touched a hair on her head.

His friends however had different ideas. With apologies on their lips, they grabbed him, ripping him away from Y/N, her body unceremoniously dropping to the ground from where her head had been resting against his thighs.

“I’ll kill all of you!” Astarion screamed, trying to bite and scratch as he was pulled further and further away from Y/N. “Some friends you are!”

It took Karalch physically ripping him away from Y/N’s dead body, Lae’Zel and Wyll helping her pin him to the ground as Shadowheart and Gale crouched beside his love, while Astarion trashed against their hold.

“He took her,” Astarion wailed and roared, his pain echoing in the chamber around them. “He took her!"

There was no need for elaboration. Not even Lae’Zel, always so quick to show her disdain against emotion, spoke. Instead, she moved a bit to the side, so Astarion could at least be granted the gift of seeing Y/N’s face as Shadowheart and Gale hovered over her dead body.

“He killed her, and I could do nothing about it,” Astarion whimpered, eyes focused on the serene look his lover had in death. He only hoped she felt at peace wherever she was.

A pale blue light glowed from Shadowheart’s hands, Gale’s power feeding hers.

“It won’t work.” He let the tears fall freely from his eyes. “She’s gone.”

It was a resigned statement from someone who was completely exhausted. He’d prepared for never leaving the Szarr palace, for dying, if he had to, but he’d never prepared himself for losing Y/N. She had become such a staple, such a sure thing in his life, he no longer could imagine how a single day without her smile could go. But now she was gone and –

His brows furrowed. It had to be a trick of his mind, a hallucination his grief-stricken heart was conjuring up, but there it was – the sweetest sound in the world he never thought to hear again – Y/N’s heartbeat.

A ragged intake of breath shattered through the hall, and he watched as her lashes fluttered. Her lungs stuttered as if they needed a minute to reconnect with her brain before they levelled out and remembered how to breathe.

Karalch, Wyll and Lae’Zel released their hold, and Astarion slowly sat up on his forearms. When Y/N took in her first full steady breath, Shadowheart slumped over, Gale already having expected it, dropping into a crouch and allowing her to lean on his side.

He couldn’t believe it. Y/N had died in his arms, he’d watched her life’s blood seep across his hands, and yet there she was – on the ground, her heart beating and lungs dragging in short breaths, barely but still.

“She needs rest,” Shadowheart said, running a soothing hand down her friend’s cheek. “As do I.”

“Let’s get back to the inn.” Wyll approached and helped the exhausted cleric, as he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her up, without much of a fuss. Lae’Zel and Gale hovered over Y/N until Astarion was capable of getting to his feet, knees trembling like a fawn's. Whether they were there for him or her, Astarion didn’t know but appreciated nonetheless.

“Would you like me to carry her?” Gale offered, a gentle look on his face, nothing but concern evident, but Astarion shook his head.

“I’ll do it.” His voice was raw from the screaming and crying, but he didn’t care to clear it as he gently lifted her up.

Y/N’s head lolled to rest against his chest as if on instinct and he had to push down a sob as he felt her warm, alive body curl into his own, like so many times before now.

Karlach laid a leather jacket across Astarion’s naked shoulders, but all he could concentrate on were the shallow breaths entering Y/N’s lungs, her slow but steadily beating heart and the way her fingers curled against where his still one rested.

The whole trek back to the lodgings they’d procured previously, Astarion was numb, completely and utterly numb save for the incessant need to check if Y/N was breathing. He was struggling to figure out his emotions.

As he laid her down in the bed, Karlach lighted a fire and Gale promised to bring a cloth and some warm water for Astarion to clean Y/N up, he couldn’t help but grieve Cazador.

He didn’t stray from his love’s bedside not even for a second, keeping vigil day and night, but most importantly watching her chest rise and fall with deep, even breaths, yet some part of him mourned his master as well.

Three days after the events of the Szarr Palace, Astarion had reluctantly agreed to have a quick wash while Karlach watched over Y/N. He regretted that decision more than anything because sometime during the ten minutes he allowed himself to get rid of the crusted blood, she had awoken.

When he re-entered the bedroom, Astarion almost fainted at the sight of her beautiful Y/E/C eyes boring into his scarlet ones.

“Hello, Star,” she croaked through a smile, and he almost crumbled then and there by the doorway, had it not been for the tight grip on the knob.

Karlach made a quick exit, but not before placing a warm palm against his shoulder, giving him a slight nudge in Y/N’s direction, though he didn’t need one. It was like she had a magical pull, making him stumble across the room before his knees gave out with a hard thud and his hand desperately sought out Y/N’s. When their fingers entwined in a tight hold, he swore to himself to never let go of her again.  

“I thought I lost you,” his voice broke. “I – I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” her own tone was quiet, barely a whisper. “But I couldn’t just let him hurt you more.”

“I know. I know you… I just…” He huffed, brows furrowing as he searched for the correct words. “I thought when I got my freedom back, you would be there by my side, but instead you were the cost of it.” Astarion choked on the word “cost”. “But at the same time, I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of him.” He didn’t say his name, he’d decided Cazador wasn’t worth having the honour of a name spoken aloud.

“And it felt disgusting. He hurt you. He took you from me, and yet… I didn’t even have him left after your… your… heart stopped,” Astarion took a shaky intake of breath. “I was completely and utterly alone. When Shadowheart appeared, I was almost tempted to ask her to revive him just so I could kill him again for what he did to you… and maybe, just so I wasn’t alone.”

Astarion lifted his gaze, resting his cheek against the palm Y/N had untwined from his, so her soft thumb could brush away the rivers of tears spilling down his face. “Please don’t leave me again. I’m – I’m not strong enough to go through it once more.”

“You are, my Star,” Y/N kissed his forehead. “You are so strong.”

“Let me rephrase that then – I don’t want to go through anything in life. Not without you by my side.”

“I promise,” she muttered and leaned forward pulling Astarion to lay next to her, sealing the vow with a kiss.

And though he still struggled with nightmares of that fight, though he still woke up breathless at times, arms desperately searching for the warm body that always occupied the other side of the bed, the deepest reassurance he could ever have that everything was alright, that Y/N was safe and sound, were moments like these when her body melted against his, where she was panting and gasping and so full of life, especially as Astarion hit that one spot that made Y/N throw her head back in a moan of pleasure.

Her nails dug into his shoulders with such a delicious taste of pain, never drawing blood though, but always leaving crescent imprints he wanted to keep on his body forever. Like Y/N’s touch could erase everything Cazador had left on him.

Y/N’s back arched, and Astarion used the moment to slip his hands underneath and pull her upwards from the bed so that she was resting in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, chest to chest, and him buried so deep, it made both their eyes roll to the backs of their heads in pleasure.

She’d taught him sex could be wonderful. It could be meaningful and lovely, instead of a means to an end or a bargaining chip to be used. It had taken a while for Astarion to grow comfortable with even the thought of her touching him, but nowadays, he became quite the grump if he ever awoke not in Y/N’s arms, even if it was for such a simple reason as nature calling her.

Her touch was the balm on sunburnt skin, her kiss was a reassurance that it needn’t go further than that and he could always say no and would be listened to. But in moments like these, all Astation wanted was more. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, to hear her breath choke at the back of her throat, he craved to feel her pulse race as she climbed higher and higher, closer and closer to her orgasm with every thrust of his hips.

Sex had been something repulsive and vile to him. Now it was the most beautiful thing he felt blessed to participate in, all because of the woman moaning his name above him.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear as Astarion kissed her neck, heart thundering in her chest.

“Let go,” he muttered, a shiver rolling down Y/N’s spine at the pleading tone of his words, making her grip his back tighter, and dig in her nails more. “Let go, I got you.”

She whimpered at his coaxing words and tightened so much around his cock, it became almost impossible for Astarion to keep pumping in and out, so he slid a hand down across her chest to her clit, just to push her over that edge she was teetering on.

Two deft fingers circled around the swollen bud, once, twice and that was it for Y/N to break. With a sigh of his name, she came, hard, taking him along as well, the orgasm surprising Astarion with its intensity and how quickly it’d crept upon him.

Bliss exploded through his veins, and his nails dug into the small of Y/N’s back, always careful to not hurt her, but deep enough to leave moon-shaped marks on her body, the same ones she no doubt had left along his back and shoulders as they both succumbed to euphoria.

A moan got stuck in his throat before slipping past his lips as Y/N ground down one final time, before stilling her hips and relishing how he filled her until the mix of their pleasure ran down their thighs and stained the sheets below. Never mind that though. It was a problem for future Astarion and Y/N.

They both were trembling as, slowly, the orgasmic wave subsided, and as they came down from their highs, Astarion couldn’t help but place a cheeky kiss on Y/N’s neck, letting his fangs skim along her skin and feel her pulse spike at that.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her hands slowly skimming up and down his spine, body still rocked by pleasure. “If you want a snack, you know all you have to do is ask.”

“I’m fine,” Astarion mumbled, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. “I just… I just love you. That’s all.”

At least that’s what he said, but underneath laid a thousand other words – I need to feel your heart beating. I have to feel your skin against mine. I need to hear you breathing and know that you’re alive and here with me. That he wasn’t imagining it as some sort of a hallucination and wouldn’t wake up back under Cazador’s control with her body lying dead on the ground by his feet.

Y/N hummed in content, pressing a kiss to Astarion’s chest. “I love you too. So much.”

A smile bloomed on his lips as he pulled away just a bit so he could cup Y/N’s face between his hands. “I don’t know what I may have done in my previous life, and I certainly don’t know what I did in this one to ever deserve someone like you, but whatever it was… I’m glad I did.”

The way her eyes shone would have brought Astarion to his knees, had he already not been kneeling on the bed. Y/N was just about to pull him in for a deep kiss when their moment was disturbed by the bell of their house ringing.

They knew it was daytime. And only one person would ring it then.

Astarion looked at Y/N.

She lifted a brow. “Ready to figure out what’s in that book?”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: I am in love with pixels on a screen...

[icarusredwings]

Eggs in the morning, hand on my heart.

Thinking about early mornings in the Wilson-Howlett household.

When Wade gets up early from the sun just slowly rising until it hits his eyes, the warmth of the sun on his husband being enough though the growlish snores are a reward for not waking him.

Boys workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

Logan, almost immediately waking up from his lover sneaking away, can hear him trying his best to stay silent while rummaging through the kitchen pans to start breakfast.

I just think about my baby. I'm so full of love I could barely eat.

Letting out a large yawn, he groans as the streach and pops of his bones are drowned out by the soft morning playlist that's quietly ringing in through the small house.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby. I'd never want once from the cherry tree.

It was one of the things he moved so much about him, adoring how caring he was and mundane that he had a playlist for everything. He would never lie about that.

Cause my baby's sweet as can be. She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me.

From sweeping, to dishes, to sex so sweet it felt like no one else in the world mattered. Kisses so delectable that as he dragged himself to the bathroom, he brushed his teeth twice and then once more for reassurance.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth.

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her.

Closing his eyes, he litsened to the song, hearing small footsteps leaving their rooms as he washed his mouth out, squishing around a shot worth before watching it exit the home, swimming down the drain.

Boys, when my baby found me. I was three days on a drunken sin.

See, Many people that met him or who previously knew Logan assumed one or two things. One was right. The other they were far from the truth, as wrong as one could be throwing a dart in the dark. One. That he had drinking problems. And two? That he could do better then Wade. He heavily disagreed. Infact, he'd argue that Wade could do better then him.

I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib.

Slowly, he comes to each room, giving a small tap with a finger, opening the room with a large sign that read 'No boys allowed'. "Breakfast soon." He whispers to a kit who was just recently pulled from sleep, eyes as drowsy as the day Wade brought him home. With a smile he came to the neighboring door, Giving a knock but when he opened it, the bed was empty. He rolls his eyes... kids... always so eager to grow up.

And I was burnin' up a fever. I didn't care much how long I lived.

He was an idiot for following him here. Agreeing to stay a week. And then 2 weeks. And then a month. And then 2 months and so on. And now? He'll never leave. Not if it can be helped.

But I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did.

He remembered during his stay wondering what he would tell Wade if he ever interogate him of his past life. About who he knew and what evil things he's did wrong to make everyone hate him so badly.. but he never asked.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

This always came oddly to Logan, seeing as.. how much of a moron do you have to be to let someone who was officially the worst person out of all themselves into their bed?

My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done.

How many brain cells did you have to loose to let someone who you've no idea what terrible atrocities they've commited with their bare hands, stay in your home?

If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me.

After evert mess up, every accident, evert mistake that he's ever made, Wade was never mad or upset with him. He never told him to leave. Infact he begged him to stay. Begged him to give himself more chances. He loved him. The way many others refused to.

When I was kissin' on my baby, she put her love down soft and sweet.

Beelining for the kitchen, Logan was careful not to trip on the ugly dog that came right between his legs, excited to greet him. Picking her up, he gives her a pat only to hand her to his darling girl at the table, giving her a small peck on the head as well, despite her being on her phone and grumbling a soft "ugh..Dad.." In protest.

In the low lamp light I was free, Heaven and hell were words to me.

Finally, he makes it to the one by the stove, who's carefully cracking ivory eggs into the sizzling pan, careful not to bust the yolks, a side of toast pre popped from the toaster to his left. His pink frilled cotton apron reading 'Kiss the cook', and so he did. Snaking his arms around him, he hummed deeply as he laid his chin on his shoulder. Taking in a large whiff of him, he moves one of his hands to his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, a hand on his waist, feeling each small sway.

"When.. my ..time comes around, Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth..No grave can hold my body down...

I'll crawl home to him."

Logan places a kiss to his neck. The sweet giggles from him were enough to not feel shame, but pride as he pushes his cheek into his shoulder, the dark crimson reaping onto his flushed cheeks like a roses bloom.

To Logan? The thorns were worth it.

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[whumpofalltime]

whump of all time

SEMIFINALS!

Find links and propaganda under the cut. Quarterfinalist and later match-ups are untagged, so your votes and reblogs matter!

Once Upon A Time:

(gifset 1, gifset 2)

"There's blood, wounds, captivity, bondage, a slow-dipping-mechanism, a big rescue, and excellent acting by Colin O'Donoghue - who delivers the tiniest whimper and the most delectable of trembles for our whump-loving eyes to devour!" ~ @killian-whump

"[...] Killian was BROKEN. Absolutely and heart-wrenchingly devastated. He was tortured within an inch of his life (… or death, I guess) and practically left to slowly drop into a pit of eternal despair.

Killian was not easy to break. He would get injured and get back up with a sneer and an "I'm alright love you should see the other guy".

But to reach that point? The point of telling Emma she should have kept herself safe instead of saving him from this torment, to hold on to her like she was his lifeline, to SMILE that small smile from the first bit of hope he'd gotten since he ended up there?

The relief upon watching this episode for the first time was visceral. For two episodes we knew Hook was being tortured, we saw him try and fail to limp to safety, we saw his resolve and defiance desperately hold on, we saw him accept his fate, we saw him preferring to be tortured further than hurt his friends… And then he got saved! And he had no witty comeback, no effort to hide his pain. He just fucking collapsed in the arms of his beloved, of his saviour, and held on for a moment to realize that it was real, she was there, he was finally safe.

Add to that some amazing, jaw-dropping, emotional acting by Colin O'Donoghue, how can you get any better than that?

Anyway vote for ouat. Because this whole torture mini arc existing is probably what caused a chain reaction of me understanding and accepting I love whump, so. I wouldn't be here torturing blorbos if it weren't for it 🤣" @piracytheorist

"god tier acting" ~ @caliburn-the-sword

The Young Blood Chronicles (Save Rock and Roll's music videos, Fall Out Boy):

(link)

"Everyone gets bloodied, bruised, beaten up, tortured, rescued, limbs are amputated - it's brutal. Alone Together is particularly strong."

sorry for being late, but you want YBC propaganda? then you're getting YBC propaganda. I know you're a FOB fan, but I will be writing this for the benefit of those who don't know what YBC is, for better propaganda purposes! and yeah this is gonna be LONG. sorry.

So! The Youngblood Chronicles (shortened to YBC) is a series of 11 music videos made by the band Fall Out Boy, for their album Save Rock And Roll (you know this album, it's the one with My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark on it). The whole thing is quite short, less than fifty minutes long (even shorter if you don't count the uncut version's credits!!), and every single music video has some element of whump in it. This propaganda is gonna break down each individual music vid, and at i'll also talk a little bit about the irl context the album was written in, and why even THAT can be a little bit whumpy if you're insane like me!

(note: i'm going in the original release order over the uncut order, hence why i'm starting with MSKWYDITD instead of The Phoenix)

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark: Arguably the least whump-y out of all of them, but man, seeing all of Fall Out Boy's discography and memorabilia be burnt while people are dancing around the destruction? Man, when you know the real life stuff (the reception the band had in 2009, leading to them to take a three year hiatus)... and at the end, you see four guys bound in the back of a van!! And that van is getting burnt!! Burn everything you love and burn the... ashes.

The Phoenix: NOW here's the first of MANY whump tastes you'll get. Patrick Stump, the singer/cutie of the band, gets kidnapped, tied to a chair, has his hand CHOPPED OFF and mailed to his bandmate/best friend Pete Wentz, then gets tied down and utterly tortured by women who are laughing at his misery the entire time, getting prodded and stabbed by tools for... well, you'll see. By the end of the video, Pete and the other two members of FOB (Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley) have been kidnapped by these mysterious women too, with Pete specifically getting kidnapped by the blonde woman he was in bed with when Patrick's hand got delivered to him. If you enjoy cute boys getting tied down, covered in blood, and writhing around like worms while getting tortured... well you'll enjoy all of YBC but specifically you'll enjoy this!! I did :D! The war is won, before it's begun, release the doves, surrender love...

Young Volcanoes: Good news, FOB has been reunited! Bad news, by the women who dismembered Patrick! And now all the band members are tied to chairs, hooked up to IVs full of god knows what types of drugs, and blindfolded (all except Patrick). They are then forced to drink, snort hard drugs, and are force fed Patrick's organs! Yep, all four of them are forced to eat their lead singer's guts, and are so fucking drugged up they don't even realize what's happening (and now you know what the women were doing to him in the last mv, and you even get a nice little shot of the hack job of stitching him back up)!! Patrick hallucinates everyone having fun, but of course, at the end, all of them are knocked out because of the drugs. Americana, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?

Alone Together: This is the song the OG propaganda mentioned, and for good reason. All four of them are shipped off into little personalized torture rooms, and, well, tortured! Pete is able to break out and even steals the hook from the girl who was torturing him, but little does he know that'll be his own undoing... also, in general, this song has some whumpy elements, specifically the line "my heart is like a stallion/they love it more when it's broke-in"... but notice how easy it is to hear "broke-in" as "broken"! At the end of the video, Pete is at least able to find Patrick (Joe and Andy have NOT been having a good time, either!! But sadly, they aren't found by Pete, but Pete DOES find Big Sean), and is even able to attach the hook to the stump (ha!) where his hand used to be. But something is clearly wrong with Patrick now. His eyes are yellow, and as the song ends, we hold on him, sneering and twitching. This is the road to ruin - and we're started at the end...

The Mighty Fall: First off if you say this is the worst song off of SRAR I will hunt you for sport. OKAY ANYWAYS, chronologically this comes after MSKWYDITD, and yeah, the four guys are the members of FOB. Pete is able to free himself with Patrick's new hook hand, and is able to get the other three out while Pete is hacking up a lung from the fire they just barely escaped. But they're not done getting their shit rocked yet. A gang of children show up (the leader being the kid Patrick waved at right before he was kidnapped back in the Phoenix MV), and proceed to separate them and beat the living shit out of them. The leader kid who's chasing Patrick plays something on a boombox... which triggers Patrick to go yellow-eyed again (from here on out i'll call it "going Youngblood" or "Youngblood self"). It was confirmed in the commentary track that ANY music would cause him to go Youngblood. And knowing Patrick IRL fucking loves to create/compose music... yeah! Take something he loves and turn it into something that drives him insane!! I'm normal!! And also the irl parallel you could draw to his solo career doing the same thing to him (on a less uh Dramatic level but you know)!!! Ouch!!!! Big Sean is able to save Patrick, but at the cost of his own life (and a killer rap verse... HELL YEAH I'M A DICK GIRL, ADDICTED TO YOU). Oh, how the mighty fall in love...

Just One Yesterday: The last vestiges of comfort you're gonna get for a WHILE. The four are separated, getting even more beaten up, Pete vomits up a snake, Andy gets his shit rocked by a homeless guy, Joe has to use white sheets as a makeshift tourniquet bc his leg got fucked up in The Mighty Fall MV, and Patrick is picked up by a kind stranger (hi Foxes! you have a very pretty voice! PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE STEERING WHEEL!). And finally, finally we get a hope spot. Fall Out Boy is reunited (the part where Andy just grabs onto Patrick's arm, in disbelief they're both alive... augh!!! AUGH!!!!), and for a moment, it seems they've been delivered to a hospital... before Foxes' eyes go completely black, looking at Patrick... and turns on the radio. She's able to trigger the Youngblood. And now Patrick is gone. The other three scramble into the hospital, Patrick not far behind, determined to kill them to stop the noise in his head. If Heaven's grief brings Hell's reign, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday...

Where Did The Party Go: Patrick, now fully consumed by the Youngblood brainwashing, is now stalking his bandmates in a hospital. Patrick is seeing visions of the hospital as an abandoned party, Andy has to painfully disinfect the wounds he's gotten, Pete is able to call for the police, and Joe... oh, poor Joe. He barricades himself into a room, but not well enough. Patrick finds him, and kills him, slitting his throat with the hook hand, showing no remorse at all... until Andy and Pete find them. The Youngblood wears off, and Patrick looks to what he's done, and is horrified at what he's done to his friend. And, bad news for him, the police are here, ready to arrest the murderer. All Andy and Pete can do is watch as tears roll down Patrick's eyes. And for the extra IRL context, this was the first song written for the album that made Pete and Patrick realize they had to get FOB back together... so lets match that with a music video where the member who helped get the band together in the first place dies. By the hands of the kid he found. Let's fade away together, one dream at a time...

Death Valley: Joe gets... uh, a little comfort? I mean, he thinks he's getting sent to heaven but goes to hell, buuuuut I think doing drugs in rock and roll hell with Tommy Lee is actually a pretty sweet deal, better than the deal the other three got! Pete and Andy are being interrogated while Patrick is in a jail cell. We find out that the cult that kidnapped them, Silence the Noise, is lead by Pete's girlfriend from WAAAAY back in the Phoenix MV, Courtney Love. And at the end of the MV... Patrick is bailed out of jail by Silence the Noise. They have him again. And this time, they're not gonna let him walk out until he's fully under their control. 'Cause tonight it's just fire alarms and losing you...

Rat a Tat: Silence the Noise has Patrick, and they utterly brainwash him, A Clockwork Orange style, with electroshock stimulation to keep him from looking away or closing his eyes, until there is nothing left. Patrick Stump does not exist anymore. Only the Youngblood, pliant under the control of Silence the Noise, tasked to destroy what he once loved; music. Andy dies at the hands of the cult, and now Pete has to protect a briefcase, the thing that got them into this mess, and keep it away from Silence the Noise, all while his best friend hunts him down. Are you ready for another bad poem?

Miss Missing You: THE WHUMPIEST OF THE WHUMP. What if we were best friends but you've been driven insane and I know the only way to stop you is to kill you and it was my fault you got into this mess and I was the one who gave you the weapon that will be my own undoing. What if we both died at the same time. What if we died, both of us failing the mission we had before us. What if that was a reference to one of their first music videos. What if this song was originally written for Patrick's solo album but he realized it was more of a Fall Out Boy song so it was scrapped until now. What if there's a legit argument to be made that half the lyrics for this song was written by Patrick. What if we were both boys. Grips walls, yeha i'm normal. If you don't watch ANY other music vid, watch Miss Missing You. Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger.

Save Rock And Roll: And our final track gives us a final bit of comfort. Patrick is able to overcome the Youngblood, and gets into heaven, where all of FOB is finally, finally reunited. God (aka Elton John) gives them new instruments and brings them back to earth, so they can do what they love; play music together. Which just so happens to release people from the control of Silence the Noise! But, because we can't have nice things, a cult within Silence the Noise got a hold of the briefcase, and summoned a spirit that starts to kill everyone. FOB stands together, and blasts the evil spirit, the blood coming up to the gates of heaven and covering Elton John in it. And... that's how it ends. No true resolution. Just Elton John covered in blood, as the song fades out. Oh, no! Wherever I go, go! Trouble seems to follow! I only plugged in to save rock and roll!

UH. AGAIN I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LENGTH. but i really wanted to express just how much WHUMP they manage to fit into less than fifty minutes, all backed by an amazing album colored by the three years they were apart. colored by how they grew, colored by how bad the hiatus was for Patrick specifically, colored by how Confessions of a Pariah got Pete to reach out to help him, and this album came out of it, Fall Out Boy came back out of it, and now here we are, ten years later, with the title track being performed every night for their concert, with all the band singing the final lines together, and the line you are what you love, not who loves you hitting every single night.

SORRY. LISTEN TO FALL OUT BOY. thanks for letting me rant.

[topgun-imagines]

Important Questions

Requested: yes

Summary: After a case of food poisoning, Maverick has an important question for you.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Food poisoning. Mentions of vomit.

Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x fem!reader

A quick, chaste kiss was pressed to your forehead as Maverick slipped past you in the kitchen. You were making your morning coffee while he made his hot chocolate for work. He had decided that he would be taking a break from caffeine for a while. Something that had shocked you deeply. The only explanation that you got was that the sweet hot chocolate tasted better. The pair of you floated around each other seamlessly, as if you were in a dance. You finished making your drink, blowing across the steaming liquid before taking a sip. Your boyfriend did the same beside you. He kissed you one last time before he moved toward the front door. Maverick bid you goodbye before heading outside.

Both you and Maverick had very busy days today. He was set to be teaching a new class with Ice today. From what you had heard, this class was particularly difficult. So much so that it reminded Maverick of himself. The thought made you giggle quietly. You, on the other hand, were set to go spend the day with Carole and Bradley. The three of you were going to decorate the Bradshaw’s house for Christmas. Ever since Goose’s passing, Carole and Bradley had a hard time adjusting. Both you and Maverick had helped immensely. But this was the first Christmas that they would be spending without Goose. You couldn’t imagine that it would be easy on them.

You finished off your coffee before heading up to your room. There, you quickly changed into a pair of jeans splattered with paint and a plain white T-shirt. Once you fixed your hair you were heading back downstairs. You grabbed your purse and slipped on your shoes before stepping out the door. The door clicked as you locked it. You started the car and pulled out of the driveway, starting the short drive to the Bradshaw house.

The drive was quick, the car filled with cheesy Christmas songs as you drove. You pulled into the Bradshaw’s driveway. Shutting off the car, you hopped out and headed to the door. Carole opened it moments after you knocked. She greeted you cheerfully, wrapping her arms around your shoulders once you were inside. Bradley was hugging your legs in seconds. After a few moments of simply standing in the entryway, you all released each other. Bradley grabbed your hand and led you down the hall. “Slow down, buddy.” You chuckled quietly.

He brought you to the kitchen table where you could see many craft supplies laid out. “We're starting with the snowflakes,” He stated matter of factly. Carole entered the room behind you, returning to her pot on the stove. You could clearly smell the delectable scent of her homemade soup. Bradley grabbed your hand once again and pulled you into a chair. You could hear Carole chuckle quietly

The rest of the afternoon was spent crafting Christmas ornaments and other decorations. Now, you were helping Bradley thread popcorn and cranberries onto a string. Carole had finished her soup hours ago. She had ladled some out for the two of you before she moved into other rooms to resume some of her household chores. Ever since the passing of her husband, she had hardly had time for everything that needed to be done. With you here, she was able to tend to the once-forgotten chores.

Around 4:30 that night you could hear a car pull up in the driveway. Your brows furrowed, wondering who would be pulling up to the house. Maverick had taken his bike to work that morning, so you knew it wasn’t him. Moments later there was a knock on the door. Carole rushed to answer it while you occupied Bradley. Before you got the chance to ask why she was laughing so hard, the person at the door rounded the corner to the kitchen. A soft chuckle escaped your lips when you saw your boyfriend standing there, leaning against his much taller blond friend.

Ice offered you a kind smile, one that you didn’t hesitate to return. That look was wiped off your face, however, when you saw the dazed look on Maverick’s face. You practically bolted out of your seat, rushing over to him. You could hear Ice breathe a soft sigh. When Maverick eyes remained shut, yours drifted to Ice. Without needing to speak, Ice delved into the story of what happened. “I’m pretty sure he ate something bad for lunch. Got out of the plane and hurled all over the tarmac,” A grimace crossed his face. “He should be fine but there was no way he was riding his bike home.” You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Together, you and Ice lead him to the couch, setting him down before returning to the kitchen. Carole had resumed your position, helping her son finish off the strand of popcorn and berries. In the time that you were gone she had poured Maverick a bowl of soup and pulled some nausea medication down from the cabinet. While you poured out the medicine, Ice carried soup over to the shorter pilot. You grabbed a cool glass of water before joining them.

Maverick slowly sipped down the water before taking the medication. Offering him the bowl of soup, Ice patted his shoulder gently before heading towards the door. As if she had some sort of sixth sense, Carole rushed into the room and pointed the ladle at Ice. He froze in his tracks, eyeing her warily. After basically threatening him into staying, Ice eventually wound up next to Maverick on the couch, two bowls of steaming soup in hand. He passed one to you with a smile.

You could see the medication begin to take effect. Maverick eyes blinked open, settling on the bowl of soup in front of him. His stomach rumbled loudly causing you and Ice to chuckle. He began gulping down the soup, only stopping when he needed to breathe. You watched him with cautious eyes, waiting for the soup to make its grand return moments later. But that never came, something which you were very grateful for. The three of you remained in silence, you and Ice enjoying your soup while Maverick sat quietly in the middle.

That silence was suddenly broken. “I have a question,” Maverick piped up quietly. You and Ice hummed in unison. “Is Santa real?” You instantly choked on your soup. Slapping a hand over his mouth, you cast an anxious glance to the kitchen where Bradley was happily crafting. Your hand slowly lowered from his mouth.

“What?” Ice whispered incredulously , eyes darting back and forth between Maverick and Bradley. “Of course not,” Your boyfriend's face fell. “Seriously? Your 30, Maverick.” His eyes drifted shut again. His head came to rest on your shoulder, the drowsiness of the medication finally kicking in. You and Ice shared a surprised look.

The last thing you heard before he drifted to sleep was a quiet ‘oh’ passing from his lips. You sighed quietly. Safe to say, you were in for a long few days.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #18

18. SAN MARINO Megara - "11:11" 33rd place

Decade Ranking: 66/153 [Above Aiko, below Hooverphonic]

Soy "Otra Gente".

Yes, ~Megara & Aiko~ back-to-back as a tribute to the blossoming new relationship. (how cute that these are the two LAST EVER entrants for both of those countries ♥). Star-crossed pansexuals forever tethered side-by-side in this ranked afterlife. THIS is how you do serendipitous running orders, Christer, fucking take notes. (Another fragment of my neurodivergent soul destoyed when he decided to put Megara 10th in the r/o and make 11:11 the 12th overall song to be performed that night).

But Aiko and Megara also represent the duality of modern day NQs. While Aiko delivered a good vocal, glammed-up to a 7.5/10 and still died (lol though luck fighting those bookmakers, girl), Kenzie delivered an ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN VOCAL, downgraded to a 7.5/10 and logically died because it's San Fucking Marino. 😍

Like, idk how to break it to you, but for once, San Marino actually earned the Ironic Standom label. Let's start with the fact that they're repped by my fave act from last year's Benifest with a song about how unfairly robbed "Arcadia" was. ♥

M E

P E L A

M E P E L A

Y si tú no me quieres otra gente me quierian

This year's line-up was so up my alley even the fanfiction was fucking me-coded.

And a fanfic it fucking was because in order to rep Scam Marino, Megara had to beat the following at Una Voce:

Jalisse, Italy's 97's reps (and erstwhile BubbleFaves) who TVSM found in a dusty retirement home somewhere in Italy, recruited as a Big Name, and who reportedly stormed out of the venue as soon as they were eliminated by the jury. (😍)

David Bowie's former flame Dana Gillespie, who sang an AI-written composition about climate change called "The last polar bear" (sample lyrics:" I'm just a polar bear trying to survive :old:" // "Is there someone out there who has mercy on a polar bear?" :old:) (and they HAD to admit this in the final because Una Voce's main sponsor was the company that wrote the AI script which composed the song lmfaooo ♥)

Nusa Derenda's son, who was part of a three-himbot boyband and was absolutely HORRIBLE (the other two did ALL of the lifting ♥), only for them to be completely omited from the first recap of the night (WILL THE BULLYING OF SLOVENIA EVER END?!)

Loredana Bertè, Mia Martini's estranged blue-haired sister who crossed over from San Remo for the sole purpose of terrorizing her ex-husband Björn Borg, and performed in her usual style: dressed as a schoolgirl (she's over 70 btw), hands in her pockets, fully disassociated, sounding like she was halfway through her fourth bottle of Disaronno.

How is ANY of this a waking reality?! Megara beating Loredana last-minute was the icing on the cake because while the notion of Pazza is funny enough (it rhymes "artifice" with "toothpaste" <3), Megara at least had... a concept? an Idea? A song?

And then we got to the contest itself. The preview comes in and has THE EXACT SAME IMPACT ON ME as Bambie's did in the first semi - STOP ALL THE PRESSES, I WANT TO SEE THIS IN FULL IDGAF ABOUT ANY OF THE OTHERS OR MY PERSONAL HEALTH AND RESPONSIBLIITIES!!!! you know, the usual hinged eurofan stuff.

When we finally got to the full live omg ♥ A fantastic act completely PULVERIZED into death by Kenzie's inability to perform ♥ From actually WALKING OFF THE SCREEN

to having her own small Emily Roberts moment in the second chorus

Shittastic. it worked because, thankfully, the song WAS fodder to begin with (no losses there) and the staging -conceptually at least- was visionary. This is probably the best San Marino have ever staged.

The delectable Dias De Muertos flamengo break ♥

the haphazard trigger happy hazbin hotel fuschia fiesta freakshow aesthetics ♥

the silly overlays that actually WORKED BETTER THAN LUX'S ♥

THE DEMON RABBIT INTO DEMON CORPSES DANCERS ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

This (metaphorical) shit was masterfully staged and Kenzy still served LOOKS AND ENERGY despite failing at everything else.

If you're going to be hopeless, then be hilariously bad at giving hope, is what I say.

11:11 was pure chaos on a black-and-pink demon barber pole, which for experimental art rock serving as a middle finger to Spain's lack of taste, is a pretty good medium of expression. The way Megara were guaranteed double digit points because the Mericones (this year's honorary name for Cigarillos/Spanish Fags btw..x) were casting votes in this semi (♥) allowed them to give zero fucks. ♥

Of course, if Megara (and specifically Kenzie) had been in any way competent, then 11:11 could have qualified with that act, and that would have been ICONIC. But they weren't and we missed out on another SF2 epic turnaround, which is probably why I'm not ranking them amongst the very good entries this year. (also, if I did I'd be compelled to rank 'em 11th and LOL @ bumping Aiko up to 12th place). I'm accepting of 11:11's shortcomings, but also acknowledge that it has them. The quality standards were surprisingly high this year, and I enjoy the remaining entries sufficiently that I don't need to cling to Megara as hard as I normally would. Fun filler it is, and that's the perfect endpoint for San Marino's journey.

THE RANKING

[starkeyvhs]

16, 22, 32, + 56???

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Honestly, gazillion 💀. I always have small thoughts and ideas in my head for potential fics which, if I'm lucky, I write them down on time before I forget about them. But for months now, I've been planning a huge huge HUGE rafe fic called 'ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?' (yes, the tyler song 🙂‍↕️) which covers his and reader's entire life together starting from best friends in kindergarten, and going through so much, to finally getting together. There are so so many ideas for this but I've barely written it. I've written a rough scene of them in kindergarten and I'll paste it below! (it might have errors and may not make sense cause it's the first rough draft, and it's been untouched for months)

“Cherry or green apple?”

You plop down next to Rafe’s figure hunched over the table, a box of crayons opened next to him as he keeps himself busy with a coloring page, his color strokes going often out of the lines, but even then, you still believe he’s one of the best at art.

His ears perk up at your little voice as you sit down next to him, his eyes falling onto the two lollipops in your hand: one wrapped in a dark red wrapper, and the other in a bright green. He pouts at the choices in your hand, and you are fully aware of the reason for the little pout on his small lips.

"They did not have strawberry,” you mumble. “Only these two,”

He lets out a short sigh, and then with his little finger he gestures to the cherry one. You unwrap the cherry flavored lollipop and hand it to Rafe, who takes it and instantly puts it in his mouth, going back to his coloring task.

You sit silently next to him with the green apple lollipop in your mouth as you watch him color. Your gaze drifts from Rafe over to the classroom window, out of which you can see all of the other kids running around, laughing, playing, or sitting on the sides to eat their food on the small field. All the swings are occupied, the sand pit is occupied, and there are multiple children at once sliding down the only slide in the field.

Rafe is different.

He never spends his lunch breaks outside. He stays in the classroom, finishes his lunchbox, and then always gets a coloring sheet to keep himself busy. You, on the other hand, always have your lunch outside with a few of your girl friends, but as soon as you’re done, you leave the girls and come to Rafe in the classroom; always sitting in the same seat of his with his sheet and his expensive box of crayons. From the little shop opposite to your house, you bring a strawberry lollipop for him each day and give it to him as a little after lunch sweet treat.

The first time you had offered him the lollipop, he was surprised. “What’s that for?” He had asked you.

“You told me you like strawberries,” you had replied, already unwrapping the lollipop. “So I got this for you,” you finished with a smile, holding out the candy for him.

A soft blush had started spreading on his cheeks at your words and the offer of the delectable candy. “Thank you,” he had murmured ever so quietly, and he took it from you and put it in his mouth.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

hmm, i think at the moment it's smut, and anything surrounding it basically. I may get into it in the future, I don't know, but I just don't think I'll be any good at it, plus it's a personal preference of mine to go for fluffy or angsty content. But I have started including suggestive content in my works (it isn't full on detailed sex descriptions but focuses more on like the feeling and intimacy of it? I don't know that's the best I can describe it)

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

nuh uh. I'm not picking three. here are my blog recs. go fucking crazy.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

this one was hard to think of I don't know why 💀 but I think it's the way it keeps on evolving. the first time I ever started writing was when I was 13, and now I'm 18. and one thing I've personally experienced is watching and enjoying how my writing is improving. and i appreciate it even more when readers also notice it and tell me how much my writing has improved, and it's like the sweetest treat because I'm being told I'm getting better at something which helps me feel better because it's a wonderful outlet for me :)

get to know your fic writer

[brits4gerardway]

i'm never on anon :3 hello!!

okay so here are my 3 questions

1: fav movie ?

2: best mcr album in your opinion ?

3: ever read homestuck ?

HIIII!!!!! TY FOR THE ASK :3

(this will probably be a long post because the first two questions evoke massive ramble urges within me)

1: FAVE MOVIE AHHHHGGH I really like The Shining 😭 I have a jack torrance funko pop :33 but also One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest crushes my soul in a good way (i like watching old movies) BUT WHEN I WAS YOUNGER I RLLY LOVED SUICIDE SQUAD THAT WAS SUCH A SILLY TIME FOR ME (not a fan of jared's joker though sorry guys) margot robbie's harley quinn you will always be famous🫶🫶

tbh now that I think of it I have a lot of favourite movies and i'm a nerd for this kinda stuff which doesn't really help my case (has took BTEC media and is also going to do A-level film studies) ,,, FUCK,,, I'll just name some more favs!!!!!

Joker 2019, The Dark Knight, Birds Of Prey, Melanie Martinez K-12, American Psycho, The Crow, Girl Interrupted, MCR Life On The Murder Scene ((IF THAT EVEN COUNTS)), Pearl (I'M A STAAAAARRR!! D:), La La Land, Corpse Bride, Coraline and also Studio Ghibli films like Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle :D there are probably some i've missed but for everyone's sake i'll stop there

2: this will always be the most difficult question ever to me because I love all of them so much equally and they're all great fucking albums that mean the WORLD to me,, statistically it's The Black Parade which is the best and it's sososososo good 🤤🤤🤤 but ngl I'm a massive Conventional Weapons lover even if it's not technically an album . BURN BRIGHT SAVE US BURN BRIGHT WE SAY IN UNISON🔥🔥🔥 but ACTUALLY albumwise I'm stuck between Bullets and Three Cheers I LOVE CONCEPTY ALBUMS AND DEEP LYRICS SO MUCHJSJDJD AND THEN THE UNDERRATED OVERHATED DELECTABLE MASTERPIECE OF DANGER DAYS EXISTS TOO WITH THAT SILLY CONCEPT AND SHIT I'VE SAID THEM ALL.

but bullets. i think. for now. yeah❤️ (I change my mind every time I think about it)

3: I read a teeny bit of homestuck back in 2020 but I never continued for some reason I totally forgot why 😭 I REMEMBER THE KARKALICIOUS SONG THOUGH THAT SHIT GOES HARD

I loved doing this instead of sleeping<33 take this pretty yet blurred swarm gerard image as a cheers to anyone who read all that

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHARLI XCX FT. BILLIE EILISH - "GUESS (REMIX)"

You didn't have to guess the score we'd give...

[7.06]

Jonathan Bradley: Of the three big Brat remixes, "Guess" is the first to offer something more than stunt casting. In Charli’s hands, the track is a flirtation with a voyeuristic public and a bravura attempt to stare down surveillance; she hopes to wrest back control by titillating on her own terms. It doesn’t quite work; Charli sounds most attuned to her subject when she splinters her voice to transform the pseudo-eroticism into Daft Punk robotics qua “Technologic.” Eilish’s intrusion into the track adds dimension; she is the voyeur, bringing a louche sensuality to an engagement that had only been conceptual; her come-on provides frisson to a track whose intimacy had existed only for cameras and screens. Billie's lasciviousness transfixes like eye contact held for too long, and it’s there that the relentless, insistent electro beat abandons the club and begins to pound like a rush of blood to the head. [8]

Edward Okulicz: Everyone's talking about Brat, and have been since it came out. I listened to it -- seriously, nothing. Clicks, articles, references in the media, social media buzz, but none of the songs stuck, and none have become breakout hits in the way Taylor or Beyoncé or Adele get at least one chart-topper per album campaign or near enough. Then Billie Eilish adds a verse to "Guess," and it becomes a hit in its own right. That tells you something: Billie is huge enough to give other people instant chart purchase. Charli's success as a writer and an exponent of a pop ideal means that her essence has seeped so much into the charts that she's not even the best at what she does, nor the best thing on her own records, whereas Billie has seemlessly moved from death-goth-wisp to menacing queer death-diva and caught a delectable second wind. The production sounds like it was made for her -- she eats Charli for lunch (in the normal sense of the phrase). She instinctively knows how to dance in front of and behind the beat. She's laugh-out-loud funny on her verse, and the "...unless" takes the tragedy of a million failed attempts at hitting on the straights and makes it something you laugh about in the moment, rather than years later. [7]

Harlan Talib Ockey: Billie Eilish takes this from draft to song, adding not only new lyrics but the thorny sapphic chemistry of “I’d hit that. Just kidding. Unless?” The production levels up much less between the two versions, though the way Charli and Billie’s voices are mixed into each other during the outro gives it some extra polish; the main issue is that it’s very audibly The Dare, rather than Charli’s more usual collaborator A.G. Cook. In theory, this would be refreshing, but the “Guess” instrumental sounds more like a remix of Daft Punk’s “Technologic” than an original song — much like The Dare’s flagship single, “Girls,” sounds like an LCD Soundsystem track that was left in the microwave for too long. Still, a general success at being “Guess and it’s the same but it’s even more deliriously horny so it’s not." [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Fun as a bonus track trifle, tedious as a big event single. Every time I try to talk myself into it I realize that the parts I like — the gleeful back-and-forth of the breakdown/outro most of all — are offset by the awkwardness of the verses, Charli's insouciance undercut by Billie's eagerness. Maybe I just don't want to listen to a song where The Dare and underwear occur in such close proximity.  [5]

Isabel Cole: The song itself is a little lifeless, but I get such a kick out of Billie Eilish bashfully mumble-mouthing about wanting to eat pussy. She sounds so awkward! It's adorable! [6]

TA Inskeep: I'm obsessed with Eilish's seemingly tossed-off "Charli likes boys, but she knows I'd hit it" lyric; why is her dyke era feeling so right right now? And besides that, Eilish's verse completes "Guess," which was originally just the same verse 2x in need of something else. Between the brilliant additions of Billie putting her oh-so-California flat voice against Charli's Essex leer and her brother Finneas putting his oontz-oontz behind the boards, this version just bangs harder than its original -- it interpolates Daft Punk's "Technologic" atop electroclash! And that's to say nothing of its stupidly brilliant video. Maybe, just maybe, Charli's made the best two singles of 2024?  [10]

Hannah Jocelyn: After the trio of "Pretty Girls," "Lead Me On," and "Good Luck, Babe!", where women deal with others uncertain about their sexuality, we now have the logical conclusion: a song from the point of view of the girl leading the gay one on. There's a power fantasy inherent in wanting a straight girl to want you, and a guilt in that because of its proximity to the "predatory lesbian" stereotype. (And of course, it's a reversal of men saying "you haven't tried me yet," but that's another can of worms.) I'm sure there's something satisfying on the straight-girl end, but I am not a straight girl, so I don't know. Regardless, it's shocking to hear Billie Eilish just spell it out when she says "Charli likes boys but she knows I'd hit it" then tops it immediately with "Charli, call me if you're with it." Forget Rebecca Lucy Taylor warning someone "I'm not your tour guide" -- Billie will happily be an "experiment" just to maybe see what Charli's got going on down there. (God, this is a weird song.) It's supposed to be campy, but I don't know if it works -- I am not a fan of the "my name is Billie, and I'm here to say/I like girls in a horny way" cadence, nor the unimaginative deep house production from The Dare. Billie and Charli have more than enough chemistry to carry this over, and the video is phenomenal, but even as they tell me not to take it seriously, I find it hard to fully laugh along with them.  [6]

Dave Moore: This has all the sexual chemistry (alone or in pairs) of an HR seminar on inappropriate icebreakers in the workplace. It's sort of funny, but not nearly funny enough for a song with so much underwear in it. [5]

Jeffrey Brister: The mainstream has become a lot hornier over the last few years: fewer winky faces, fewer coy lyrics, more explicit lyrics about specific acts, and most heartening to see, more expressions of queer desire. Hearing it just makes me feel good, sending thrills through my body of the aren’t-you-a-little-pervert and the this-makes-my-soul-glow-with-happiness variety. “Guess” pulses with need, that breath catching in your nose as you try to control your breathing, sweat prickling your arms. The lyrical bluntness just makes it feel sexier, an acknowledgement of desire and a dare to do it. [9]

Mark Sinker: “Everything happens so much,” as @horse_ebooks spookily noted long ago — and you can be very for it all (or some of it all) and still know why the sex-negative TikTok Zoomer has since become an en masse thing. [7]

Alfred Soto: The wobbly bass had me thinking of Disclosure's Jessie Ware collaboration "Confess to Me," the whispery-whiskery vocals of many anonymous electroclash bangers I danced to out of my head in 2002. Billie Eilish's increasing skill at applying humor and intelligence -- the same things, really -- to her queerness complements Charli XCX's bruiser overstatement. "Guess" could be longer, but it kept me guessing. [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: Automatic electroclash high score. Anything calling itself "indie sleaze" (whether literally or in vibe) should sound sleazy, unsafe, and not fully endorseable, like the parties they'd play at are genuinely bad ideas and the people at them genuinely seedy; and should sound cooler not just than the normie Brat Summer memers but also you. Then Billie and Finneas come in -- the former homeschoolers sounding like they understand the assignment better than someone who actually lived through the MySpace incarnation of this -- to add newer, messier, better-baiting sexual politics and new vectors to what was already an omnitaunt.  [8]

Taylor Alatorre: When arch-New Yorker Lenny Kaye went digging for Nuggets in 1972, he thought he was pick-axing "The First Psychedelic Era," and it would take another decade for "garage rock" to become the preferred retroactive term for mid-'60s fuzz tunes. For that reason, I can't fault "indie sleaze" for being late to its own christening. I can fault it for singlehandedly summoning the Dare, though. The animatronic suit-and-cigarette act gives the knowingly naïve scene exactly what it's lined up for, which is nominative determinism: "indie" = post-poptimist post-punk, pumped out of NYC neighborhoods whose names I shouldn't know but do; "sleaze" = yelping about sex in a way that makes the writers of Meet Me in the Bathroom wish they had chosen a different Strokes song. It's possible that Brat as we know it would not exist if "Girls" hadn't become a subcultural hit in 2022, so the Dare's agenda-setting presence here, complete with namecheck, was also predetermined. Eilish's presence was not, but the lack of wiggle room within the song's overclocked prurience has her ending up as drably utilitarian as the Daft Punk rip. On paper, she throws a cinder block to the first verse's question-begging OnlyFans pitch, muffling Charli's lips as she raises the notion that perhaps the male gaze has been given a bum deal. On record, though, Billie is tied down by her typecasting as voracious pansexual caricature, a role she's all too eager to play as long as it gets some theoretical listener's knickers in a twist. This emphasis on trolling over songcraft is present throughout, from the vicarious "Britney, bitch"-style adlibs to the plodding metamodernisms that slam the door on us, thinking they've just won the argument. And yeah, you might say, that troll-baiting, that self-awareness of the drug-fueled ridiculousness of it all, is part of the electroclash package; this is just what reviving the revival looks like. Except the rest of Brat proved that it didn't have to be, as did the Dare's forebears in dance-punk revivalism. "Losing My Edge" had "the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets," but it also had "and they're actually really, really nice," and "GIL! SCOTT! HERON!," and a bleeding-heart belief that all these rare crate finds had a real, defining importance that persisted even after the last anonymous partygoer staggered out into the daybreak. Maybe the joke's on me for weighing His Eminence James Murphy against a two-minute camgirl rhapsody; or maybe both joke and rhapsody would be improved if Charli and her producer weren’t staring at their sub count the entire time. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: The Dare having a great year, speculation about sexual proclivities, white women rapping. Who said rap was dead? [7]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: The week after this came out, I went to a party for Market Days on the rooftop of Chicago's queer north side community center. Four DJs with four vastly different styles mixed, but you know what they all had in common? A cut of "Guess." Each time, every queer in the crowd knew every irreverent, petulant, sex-tinged word. Charli knows how to write a hook, how to tease a friend out of her shell, and how to keep momentum barreling forward.  [8]

Ian Mathers: Every one of these new brat versions has taken a song that definitely felt complete on its own and spun it off into giddy new heights. I sometimes use Andrew WK's I Get Wet as an example of an album I'd give 10/10 just because it knows what it wants to do and then does it as hard and successfully as it possibly can. And while I do like "Guess" (and this version of it) an awful lot, my mark here also partially reflects my similar feelings about the whole brat project. One of the most fun things in pop is when someone who is having a Moment seems to know exactly what they want to do with it. [10]

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