#and there are about a million songs that i love

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

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taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[ssahotchnerr]

Valentines Day request you say? 😏

What about hotch x bau!reader’s first Valentine’s Day together but they’re away on a case and Hotch still desperately tries to make it special for his honey 😞😞😞😞

redefining romance

happy valentine's day! 🥰 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, bau family banter, brief food mentions, aaron being the sweetest, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k

You couldn't deny feeling a bit disappointed. You weren't surprised, but disappointed.

The last place you were hoping to spend your very first Valentine's Day with Aaron was on a case. Instead of sharing a quiet, intimate evening together, you were spending it in a precinct, miles away from home and far from anything that resembled love. In it's place, a sterile environment - fluorescent lights rather than candles, takeout consumed over case files instead of a fancy dinner.

It especially didn't help that you had brief knowledge of his would-have-been plans too. He had playfully asked if you had made prior plans, because he intended on taking you out. The only hint he gave was that your first stop would be a fancy restaurant - disclosed only so you were aware to dress accordingly - but the rest of the night would remain unbeknownst to you.

And now it was merely a reservation you wouldn't make.

You accepted this was something you would have to get used to. With such a demanding and unpredictable job, it came as no shock. In addition, you were positive this wouldn't be the last Valentine's day you spent in the field. Or holiday, at that.

But it still sucked regardless.

Instead than sulking entirely, you had to make the most of it: Aaron wore a red tie in the day's honor, chosen by you. The police department was scarcely decorated - some of the officers had felt festive enough. JJ even stopped to get pink and red donuts for breakfast on the way in. You also managed to be in a SUV with Aaron at one point, just the two of you, allowing him to comfortably hold your hand on the road.

The day had flown by before you even realized it. Before long, you found yourself back at the hotel with the others, parting ways for the night.

"We'll see you all in the morning," Aaron told the group, not-so-discreetly placing a hand on your back, the usual comments following.

"Goodnight," Derek offered the two of you a wink, the words leaving him in a sing-song tone.

"Remember, I'm an old man who needs his sleep." Dave also gave both of you a pointed look, causing Aaron to roll his eyes.

"Goodnight Dave."

"They're crazy," you laughed once the two of you reached your respective door, grabbing the keycard from your wallet. You faintly heard Emily tossing back the words to enjoy what you could of the rest of the day.

"They're jealous," Aaron humorously commented, causing you to laugh again as you pushed open the door, flicking the light on.

Much to your surprise, the light revealed a bouquet of flowers on the table, joined by chocolate covered strawberries. Not only that, flower petals were scattered amongst the duvet. You blinked, as if the display would somehow disappear.

Aaron trailed in behind you, a small smile on his face.

You turned to him, surprise blatant on your face. "You...?"

"Yeah," he confirmed casually, a warmth in his eyes that enveloped you from the inside out.

"When did you manage to do this?" Quickly, you replayed the day in your mind, searching for a moment when he could have slipped away, but came up with nothing. You admired the flowers, in stunned awe.

"I can't reveal all my secrets, can I?" He grinned. There was a quiet satisfaction in his expression, knowing he had successfully pulled it off, but mainly because you were so overjoyed.

"Aaron..." A million words were in your mind, but vocally, you couldn't help but be speechless. So you did the only thing that could get your message across - you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fiercely pulling him close and kissing him.

Aaron reciprocated, holding you close.

"It's our first Valentine's Day. You didn't think I wouldn't try to make it special somehow, did you?" He teased once the two of you parted, arching an eyebrow.

"But I didn't-"

While you did have a heartfelt card for him, it wasn't a gesture as grand as this, his 'little something' waiting at home.

He waved off your comment. "Don't worry about it, please. Besides, this is the first Valentine's Day I've had in a while." His smile was effortlessly endearing. "I had to go all out one way or another. Not that I need an excuse to spoil you, you already know I don't need that. But our Valentine's Day looks different compared to others, given our job demands. So it may have to look like, this, here and there. If that's okay."

"Of course it is," you answered quickly, your gaze softening.

"And this," he briefly held up a finger, handing you a red, folded piece of paper. "Is from your other valentine."

"My other valentine?" You laughed softly in confusion, opening it up and your heart melting.

It was a handmade card, complete with messily-cut hearts. You recognized the writing immediately. Happy Valentine's Day! was in Jack's slightly messy third grade penmanship. He even included a small drawn portrait of the three of you.

You'll keep it forever.

Aaron sat on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. You lifted your eyes from the card, finding his serious yet sweet expression on his face. "I know it's not what we had originally planned. And we're still celebrating fully once we're home. I've already talked to Jess, she's more than willing to take Jack for one more night."

"Truthfully, I was kinda down about it all day," you admitted as your gaze dropped again, feeling silly.

"I know." His lips drew in a pensive line, his hand rubbing your hip comfortably.

"But you're right. They will look different, and we're lucky too. We still get to spend the day together, a lot of agents can't say the same for their significant other. And spur of the moment things like this, are so romantic and spontaneous and it..." Again, you were lost for words and overwhelmed by love. "This is perfect."

You felt deeply cherished, truly adored. That despite working, Aaron had gone out of his way to ensure your first Valentines would be special and memorable. It was a reminder that, no matter the circumstances, he would always find a way to make you feel loved. In a way, the two of you didn't quite need to celebrate further. This was more than enough.

"Hey, that's the word I would use to describe you."

"Really?" You leaned back slightly to get a better look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Smooth talking me, Hotchner?" You teased. But all jokes aside, you leaned back in, giving him a kiss. "Thank you, you're amazing. I love you so much."

"I love you. So much." He couldn't help himself, pressing his lips to yours and his chest filling up with love, as if every beat of his heart was made just for you (which, it was).

Eventually Aaron got up, removing his suit jacket.

"I still can't believe you," you said with a laugh, shaking your head and letting your fingers sift through the scattered petals. "I swear, I didn't see you leave once. And wait- did you pack these?"

"Don't get any ideas," he teased, undoing the cuffs on his sleeves as he stood above you. "As romantic as I am, we are on the job."

"Oh?" You grabbed his tie, firmly pulling him near. "I think we're not until the morning."

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

P*RNSTAR- J. TODD, D. GRAYSON, P. PARKER

pairing: boyfriend! p*rnstar!jason todd x p*rnstar!dick grayson x p*rnstar!peter parker x girly!fem! reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: after months of dating jason, you finally muster the courage to ask if you can be in one of his videos... with some company. aka his two best friends dick and peter-to get all the right angles, of course.

warnings: SMUT! threesum!, daddy kink, size / manhandling kink, swearing, pet names, innocence kink, porn mentioned ofc, heavy praise, overstimulation, light spanking, giving and recieving head, fingering, cumming inside, masterbation, jason is super possesive- the boys tease the hell outta him... (this is super dirty heh)

quick authors note- thank you to the lovely person who left a threesum request in my inbox, i had this idea for a while to do something with this song in mind- so happy i could write this :) happy reading and happy valentines day<3

"i wanna hear you talking dirty/ i wanna see it on your face/ i wanna feel you put the work in/ i wanna watch you entertain / flashing red light (baby, baby, baby)/ baby, you're a star/ fuck me all night/ (show me, show me, show me)/ show me who you are/ pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (pornstar)"- p*rnstar, nessa barrett

Some things you knew, but you didn't.

Like when it came to your boyfriend's income.

He had more money than you could ever dream of. And yet- it was still a blurry line of where exactly he got it all.

Jason had pulled you aside before things got serious between you two- indicating what he did for a living. It wasn't a dinner table conversation at the busiest restaurant in Gotham, but he wasn't ashamed of himself.

He was worried about what you would think.

If you’d splash your glass of wine in his face, and be done with it.

But you were calm and understanding when he told you about his OnlyFans. About how dozens of his Twitter videos had gotten millions of views, with him as the main attraction.

He didnt work in the professional industry, he had assured you- there was no film crew, bright lights and casting calls. It was just him and his phone, sometimes a mask or two.

He was nearly appalled when you just smiled, squeezing his hand.

“That doesn't bother me Jason, I promise. Nothing you could say or do could be a deal breaker for me.”

You didn't really understand it all, how it all worked- but you were supportive nonetheless.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when a few minutes later you asked him if he filmed with anyone else. Not that you were jealous or anything if there was- it was work and all, you had quickly added.

“No one else sweetheart. Just me.”

And that had been enough of an explanation for you.

You didn't love him for his money, obviously- but it was definitely a nice bonus. He always lavished you in diamonds and lace- leaving fancy little lingerie pieces on the bed he’d hand pick for you to wear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna have to get you in a video soon sweetheart. Look how pretty you are for me, yeah?” he cooed in your ear as he fisted your hair in his hand, forcing you to look over into the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.

It drove you crazy.

You matched his freak in other ways, you were eager to learn new things and he loved to take care of you- practically using you as a doll for him to fuck however he wanted.

One night he had caught you watching one of his videos you had found on Twitter, your little pants and moans leading him right to the bedroom when he got home late from drinks with his friends.

“Whatdya think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, making you gasp and quickly pull your hand out from your sleep shorts.

“I’m s-sorry I was just seeing- Just wanted to know what you liked..” you trailed off, squirming as he took heavy strides over to the bed, lifting your head to slide his large knee under it, supporting your weight.

“Well don't stop on my account princess. Show daddy how you touch yourself, yeah? All nice n wet f’me?”

You couldn't get that night out of your mind.

It had been a week since he had caught you in the act, and instead of embarrassed you felt… hornier.

Somehow.

It didn't make sense, you were rather shy and quiet when it came to sex- unless Jason guided you to let go (which you loved). Sex wasn't foreign to you by any means- I mean, your boyfriend was a pornstar for god's sake.

But this?

This weird sense of courage, or pride to show yourself off with him? It was foreign.

You had sat on the idea for a little, and the more you thought about filming with him, the more wet your panties seemed to get at the idea.

It got to the point where you were so caught up in it, Jason had to sit you down on his lap- something he often did when you were either sad, anxious, clingy or in subspace- in the middle of the day.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been distracted all week. What's on your mind pretty?”

“S’nothing Jay.” you mumbled into his shirt, body going taunt as his hand came down to stroke your head.

“Princess you know better than to hide from me, yeah? Use your big girl words and tell  me what's going on inside that beautiful mind.”

You clung to his shirt, scrunching the fabric with a closed fist as you cleared your throat.

“I just- I was thinking a lot, lately. About, your work.” He stilled.

“And I think, if you’re okay with it, I’d maybe like to be in a video. If you’d let me, if you’re comfortable- I mean.”

Jason was frozen. All you could hear was his gentle breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as you lifted your head, peering up at him.

“Jay?”

“Are you sure angel? You really wanna do that?”

You nodded.

“I think it would be fun. And sexy. Ya know, like you showing me off…” you trailed off, and he smirked.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Maybe a little.”

He cooed at your confession, slowly starting to bounce his knee, just the way he knew drove you crazy. He swore he could hear you purring, like it was a cat who was curled on his thick thighs, and not the sweetest, most precious and innocent little angel he had ever laid eyes on.

Who had just confessed she wanted to film content with him.

Who knew what other tricks she had up her sleeve?

He was eager to find out. And even more eager to show you off, and remind everyone that you were his girl.

-----------------------------------------------

You had two other tricks up your sleeve.

And those two tricks consisted of Dick Grayson and Peter Parker. His friends, who just so happened to also film content.

Peter seemed to be just as surprised as you were, for going through with this- but more so at Jason.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to share your princess Jason. So possessive all the time, isn't he Dick?” was the first thing he said as he entered, tossing you a flirty little wink.

Jason responded with a growl, entirely proving his point as he started to shield you from the two men who flung themselves down on the couch, peering over at you with nothing but a look of hunger at your innocent little outfit- you had your thigh highs on with your short little pink skirt you knew drove Jason wild.

It seemed to drive more then just him wild, though.

“Jay..” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his bicep,poking out from behind his towering body.

“I’m doing this for my girl. So make her happy, or so be it..” he grumbled at the guys, making Dick smirk cockily.

“Oh we’ll make her happy alright.”

“She’s so meek, like a little kitten. It's adorable, really.” Peter cooed, leaning over to look at you.

“I don't think we’ve met before angel. But Jason talks our ears off about you.”

“Good things I hope.” you giggled, your eyes meeting with Jasons. There was a darkness in them that you only saw when he was feeling feisty, when you acted out.

Good.

“Only the best things.” Dick chimed in, adjusting himself so he manspread on the couch, and you fought the urge not to stare at the prominent bulge that strained his gray sweats.

You felt a hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the skin as Jason tugged you closer to him.

“You’re gonna have to stop being so possessive someday Jason. This might be good for you. Like exposure therapy, or whatever.” Peter tsked, eyeing where his hand lay.

“Two rules.” you said, getting everyone's attention, three sets of eyes on you, all perked with attention.

“I want Jay in the room at all times. And, um if for whatever reason if I need to stop or don’t like something, we’re gonna take a breather.”

“Hon, thats a given. One hundred percent, no question.” Dick reassured, Peter nodding beside him in agreement. “And don’t feel pressure about money or anything okay? Even if you decide to suddenly stop- there's no pressure. Money is already on the table for you baby.” Peter added, making you chirp out a little giggle.

“Oh I’m not worried about money, I get plenty of that from him.” you looked over at Jason, his eyes soft and gentle as they stared into yours, as if he was relinquishing in the moment that this was really happening.

That he’d be able to show you off, and know that people could fantasise about your little noises as much as they wanted, but could never have them for themselves.

“I’m gonna go get her prepped. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Jason stated gruffly, tugging you along like a lost puppy to the bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder, giving the men a little wave and a soft smile as you were guided to the bedroom, before the door shut, leaving you with Jason.

Heat pooled between your legs at the look he gave you, his hard, rough exterior dropping as soon as he was alone with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading as he silently coaxed you over to him with two fingers.

“You feelin okay pretty?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled into.

He was warm.

“I’m perfect.” you said, making him hum in content. “D’want me to make you feel good baby? Get you all nice n ready before they come- have some privacy?” he cooed, canines nipping at your neck as you giggled, letting him sweep you up and guide you on the bed, lying down under him.

“Jay?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against your skin, planting gentle kisses down your neck.

“You’re mine. Ya know? You’re always mine.”

He stilled, eyes darting up to meet yours, before swiftly kissing you on the mouth with so much passion it sent shivers down your spine as you moaned, arching into the kiss.

He tasted so sweet, so good. It was only when he parted you realized you needed air, letting out a little gasp.

“I know honey. You got that tattoo to prove it. I’m not worried.” he winked, patting your inner thigh gently at the little heart that poked out from under your skirt.

“And you know-” he leaned in close, breath hot and heavy as it ticked your ear. “No one can make you feel as good as I can. They may think they know you, what you like- but I know you sweetheart. You’re mine.”

You moaned, and he cooed at you in content as you wiggled your hips, desperate for friction.

“Can you lift those pretty lil legs for me honey? Drape them over my shoulders, like we always do?” you nodded, complying immediately as you bent them up, so your thigh high socks brushed his skin.

“Gooooood girl. You’re always so good, aren't you?”

His fingers darted down to feel the wet spot through your panties, the pads of his fingers moving in gentle circles as you groaned.

“J-jay-”

He quickly tugged off your little cotton panties in one fluid motion, exposing your bare cunt to him. He bent you forward even more, so your legs were near touching the bed behind you as he examined you.

“Such a pretty lil cunt. So tight too.” he chuckled, rubbing a finger through your soaked folds, tapping your clit and making you jump before he slid a finger in, making you moan loudly.

“Yeah, that's the spot isn't it? Hey, hey look at me-” he guided, other hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together, making your eyes stare into his.

“It's just us, okay princess? Just you n me. Keep looking at me, I know, I know it feels so good doesnt it?”

“Yess, yes fuck Jay-”

“Thats not my name, sweetheart.” he tsked, curling his finger as he slowly started to pump in and out of you, making you mewl.

“Daddy fuck.” you moaned, head loling to the side as you let bliss take over you- his sign to add a second finger.

“You’re doing so well for me princess. Thats it.” he coaxed, smirking at the blissed out face you made as he went deeper.

The door creaked open, Jasons head whipping back to glare at the guys. “I thought I said I’d call you when shes ready?” he drawled, movements not faulting despite his divided attention.

“She sure as fuck sounds ready to me. Not my fault her pretty lil moans were like a sirens call. Fuck me.” Dick whistled, leaning against the door as he watched you with wide eyes, your head rolling to see him and Peter enter the room, looking at you in awe.

“Shes a natural.”

“She is natural. We don't fake around here, do we princess?” Jason asked, and you quickly shook your head before another broken moan escaped your lips as he curled his fingers again, just the way you liked.

“She likes praise. Rough play, depending on how rough. Some degradation, but I only use it if shes being bad. She may look it, but shes not breakable. Fuck her right.” Jason instructed them, acting like you werent right in front of them, overhearing all of this.

It kinda turned you on more honestly, the way they just kind of let you go.

“Shes so pretty.” Peter cooed, coming over to the bed side, placing a hand on your cheek- just as Jason had done a few moments prior. You nuzzled into his touch, breathing in the gentle smell of his cologne.

You could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel uncomfortable, like you were scared it would.

No, it felt… nice. Rewarding.

“I’m gona turn this on now, okay angel?”

You nodded, and the little right light flickered on. “F-fancy.” you hiccuped, making them all laugh.

“Very. Only the best for you.”

You sighed softly as Peters hand trailed down, down to your breasts, squeezing one gently.

“Be gentle with her.” Jason murmured again as he stood, letting the two other guys get a feel for you. It was only fair, you supposed.

“Hi pretty. Is it okay if I flip this up?” Dick asked, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want it off?” you asked meekly, and he shook his head. “And not show the camera how cute you are in it? In this little getup?”

He pinched your thighs. “S’not a getup its just my clothes- ohhh!” you squealed as Dick was spreading your legs apart, tounge lapping at your cunt like a man starved.

Beofre you could get out another moan, Peters two fingers slid between your parted lips, and your eyes widened in surprise before you obidenly sucked on them.

“You get her like this all the time, dressed like this? Jesus Jason we might have to come drink here.” Peter groaned, Jason only letting out a grunt in reply as he palmed himself through his pants.

“You take it so well sweetheart. Making your little boyfriend over there all hot and bothered.”

You moaned, squirming before Dick squeezed your thighs tighter, forcing you to stay in place. You almost cried at the sensation, his tongue circling your clit, tugging on the little nub.

“Think she's ready?” Peter asked. “You kidding? She’s been ready this whole time. I just wanted to get a taste. So sweet.” Dick hummed, poking his head up from between your thighs, chin glistening in the soft light.

“I get her first. Shes my girlfriend.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine yes, yes. So bossy, isnt he? Thats no fun.” Dick hummed as Peter slipped his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop!, a trail of salvia stringing to his digits.

“Ngh-” was all you could get out as Dick flipped you over with no effort, gentle hands rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“S’okay bunny. We’re gonna let you cum as many times as you want. You can make a mess, okay?”

You nodded feverishly. “Am I doing good?”

“So good princess. So good. Can you open your mouth for Peter?” You lolled your tongue out, looking up at the man with glazed over puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck…” he murmered as he tugged down his pants, bundling your hair up in his hand. You felt Jason come over to place a gentle tap on your ass, his indication he was about to enter you.

You clenched in anticipation, barely able to get out a word before they both entered you- from opposite ends.

It was bliss.

Your moan vibrated straight down Peter's dock and he hissed as the sensation, slowly starting to work your mouth in rhythm with Jasons gentle thrusts. He wasn't as rough as he usually was, and you knew it was because of the sudden changes in the bedroom.

He didn't want you to get overwhelmed, and you were thankful for it. All the attention had you buzzing, the praise spewing from their mouths sending like prayers at mass.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking tight. Always so tight.” Jason growled, tossing his head back in bliss as he spread your ass, plunging into you deeper. You mewled, eyes staring up into Peters, full of lust.

He looked so beautiful, peering down at you from this angle. So tall and handsome, his happy trail brushed against your nose as you took him deep, gagging slightly at his size.

The sound just spurred him on even more, as he fucked your mouth harder, before you gasped for air, tears starting to stream from your waterline.

“S’much, so big-” you sputtered out, gasping for air, mascara smudging down your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl, did so good.” Dicks hands caressed you, hiking up your shirt, for the skin on skin contact.

He let out a little gasp, fingers tracing the ink that dotted your lower back. “My god…” he murmured at your tramp stamp that said princess, with little swirls and stars.

Jason had got it for you, holding your hand the whole time, and planting kisses on your head as you braved through the pain. You had wanted one for months, but could never find the courage to get one, or the money to be spending freely on things like that.

Until- you met Jason, of course.

“I know. Ain't she a treat? Helped her pick it out myself.” Jason smirked, giving your ass a smack.

“Daddy..” you whimpered, head falling down into the sheets without Peter's support.

“My turn. You’re on exposure therapy, remember?” Dick said, about to shoo Jason off before you cried out.

“W-wait I’m about to cum just- please, please-” you begged, more tears starting to stream down from your eyes from the overstimulation your body was feeling.

Legs began to shake as Jason grumbled something incoherent, fucking you harder and deeper, so hard you started to jolt forward down into the sheets.

You reached your hand out and you felt Peters hand cup over yours, his thumb softly stroking your skin in little circles. “You’re doing so good honey. You feelin good? Gonna cum for your daddies?"

You whimpered, nodding as you squeezed his hand as you cried out loudly, cumming on Jason's dick with no warning.

“Fuck. Fuck good girl princess I’m gonna fuck- fucking stay there and let me fill you up.” he groaned, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before you felt the warm, sticky liquid fill up your insides.

Dicks eyes widened in shock, completely forgetting about the camera that was currently focused on the four of you, whipping his head to Jason.

“Wait can you d-”

“M’on the pill.” you heaved out, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck. Fuckin hell, move.” Dick groaned, quickly taking Jasons place, wasting no time to plunge deep into you, shoving Jasons leaking cum back inside as he fucked you slowly.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as Peter started to slip his fingers back in your mouth, relieving your oral fixation.

You cried out, muffed between his digits as Dick picked up the pace, just as Jason did. Hitting spots you could only dream of.

“I know baby I know that was a stretch wasn’t it? But I promise it’ll feel so good, you’re doing so good for me- aren’t you? My sweet thing.” he cooed, making your eyes roll.

“J-jay is s’much. So, so much.”

“I know princess, you wanna stop? Just say your word.”

You shook your head. “N-gh- no I wanna keep going just- just need you here.” you reached for his hand squeezing it as well.

It was so big and rough, swallowing your palm whole. You looked over into his soft gaze, a little smile on his face that he saved only for you.

“I’m here princess. Daddys right here for his lil girl.”

[maxwellanthony]

About a decade ago, I came to the horrifying realization that I was Aro/Ace. As someone who has always loved love (especially in fiction, books, movies, etc!) it felt like I'd been doomed to a life where one of my biggest aspirations, romantic fulfillment, would simply never come to be due to circumstances outside my control. After about five years of trying and failing to muddle through one-sided relationships, I got frustrated enough to write a song about it. I recorded the song on my iPad, titled it Aromantic Moodboard, and posted it to YouTube. I expected it to get less than 100 views.

Instead, I received over 129k views on YouTube and over 1 MILLION streams on Spotify.

More importantly, I received an outpouring of love, support, and even comiseration from the AroAce community. It was tremendous. It is STILL tremendous--and it blows my mind whenever I think about it. In honor of the song's five year Spotify anniversary, the 1M stream milestone, and Valentine's Day, I decided to rerecord an acoustic (clean) version of the song for all of y'all to enjoy. Please give it a listen!

Finally, thank you to anyone and everyone who has given Aromantic Moodboard a listen. I <3 you all.

[cosmerelists]

Randomly Assembled Cosmere Roommates: How Will They Fare?

[Note: This post contains major WAT spoilers!]

@truthwatcherblog created a poll (which should still be going on, if I've gotten my dates right?) wherein you spin a picker wheel to randomly assign yourself three Stormlight roommates. With OP's permission, I'm going to use their picker wheel not to give myself roommates, but to create trios of Stormlight characters who now must room together. Let's see how it goes!

[I faithfully adhered to the picker wheel except for skipping repeats. Lin Davar came up THREE times!]

1. Lopen, the Nightwatcher, Cord

The Nightwatcher would stay holed up in her room all day, leaving mostly just Lopen & Cord, who did travel together during Dawnshard...a story in which we learned that Lopen has a huge crush on Cord. Hopefully they'd sort that out pretty quick so that it doesn't turn into a Wayne/Ranette situation. 

Cord: And this is my girlfriend, Rysn. Lopen: Well okay, but I'm not gonna stop trying to impress you with my jokes and manly ways! Cord: ...To try to win me over? Lopen: No, I mostly just like making people laugh and and I like being complimented. For my manly ways. Cord: I can live with that. Nightwatcher: [Through the closed door and the ten million blankets that she shrouds herself in] Can someone please bring me ice cream? 

2. Moash, Lin Davar [Shallan's dad], Syl

[sing-song voice] Someone is getting muuuurdered!

Lin: Are you stupid as well as blind, dark-eyes? I SAID to pour me wine! Moash: [already drawing his sword] Syl: In this house, we stan some extrajudicial killings. 

3. Lezian, Masha-daughter-Shaliv [Szeth's wife], Maya

This household is never at peace.

Lezian: I CAN'T do the dishes, I'm busy STALKING and KILLING people! Maya: [arms folded] A good soldier doesn't shy away from unglamorous work. Maya: You can be a "killing slut" later. Lezian: STOP CALLING ME THAT Masha (busy writing): Hey guys, what's a synonym for "bald"?

4. Skar, Rock, Kmakl [Queen Fen's husband]

It all works out great once they set some boundaries.

Skar: No more sex with your wife in the living room without warning us first. Kmarkl: Fiiiiine. Skar: We all love your stew, Rock, but sometimes other people want to use the big pot, too. Rock: Fair enough, fair enough! Rock: And you, Skar, need to stop throwing our stuff out the window just because we leave them lying around! Kmarkl: I couldn't find my lucky socks for two weeks! Skar: ... Skar: Wow, living together really is about compromise. 

5. Roshone, Huio, Taravangian

Mostly, I feel sorry for Huio.

Roshone: Can't believe my wife kicked me out. Can't belive I have to have roommates. Taravangian: Nobody go into the basement, okay? I'm using it to store my...stuff. Roshone: Why does your "stuff" require so much sound-proofing, anyway? Taravangian: It's, uh, a playroom for my...noisy grandchildren? Roshone: Sure, that feels right. Huio: [in the kitchen making soup] Huio: (muttering to himself in Herdazian): I'm NEVER telling them I can understand Alethi. 

6. Szeth, Rlain, Drehy

This is going to be SO good for Szeth's mental health! Drehy's gonna be working overtime helping both of his roommates, though.

Rlain: So, uh... Drehy: Yes, you may ask me all of your "gay" questions. Rlain: I really appreciate that! Szeth: Kaladin says that I must "ask other people" if I have a thought that "does not quite seem right." Szeth: I pose this to you both: if you burn a dinner you were really looking forward to, is death the answer? Rlain: No! Drehy: I'll order pizza.

7. Gezamal [Yanagawn's guard], Ishnah [Lightweaver], Testament [dead-eyed cryptic]

Testament is really the glue that holds this household together.

Gezamal: Ishnah, let's have dinner together tonight and talk. Ishnah: What, why? Gezamal: Testament and I share a bond since she is a dead-eye and I am Unoathed. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: You and Testament share a bond because you are a Ligthweaver and she is a Cryptic. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: For household solidarity, you and I should now figure out what we have in common. Ishnah: ...What's that big book you have? Gezamal: I pre-drafted a list of things we might have in common. Gezamal: For example, as a member of the Unseen Court, were you ever punished with lavatory duty? That happened to me once. Ishnah: Oh, this conversation is gonna be rough.

8. Elid [Szeth's sister], Kalak [herald], Wyndle

Kalak, scared as he is of humans, much prefers one of his two roommates...

Wyndle: Oh, I'm so glad you like this! "How It's Made" is one of my FAVORITE shows, but the  mistress says it's "boring." Kalak: It's great! I've never felt so calm! Elid: Yo, what are we watching? Kalak: Eep! Elid: ... Elid: The Almighty Herald is hiding behind a cushion again, huh? Wyndle: I-I'm sure he doesn't mean to offend you!

9. Wit, Aladar [highprince], Renarin

It's like Christmas came early for Wit--he likes to make fun of both of them!

Wit: [eyes glinting] Aladar: W-We should make an alliance now, Renarin! Aladar: Together we can stand up even to this man! Renarin: Oh,  uh... Renarin: I actually already made an alliance with Wit this morning, when he asked. Aladar: NOOOOO

10. Abidi the Monarch, the Thrill, Tanavast

Okay, I'm sure your mind went immediately to "sheer destruction," but what if...?

Tanavast: Abidi! It's YOUR turn to walk the Thrill! The Thrill: [bouncing excitedly at the word "walk"] Abidi: Not now, you fool! There are people being wrong on the internet, and I must bathe in their blood! [sitcom laugh track] Abidi: And I keep telling you to call me Abidi the Monarch! Tanavast (muttering): More like Abidi the Moron. The Thrill: Arf! Arft! [sitcom laugh track] [Theme song starts playing, revealing the sitcom title: 3 Old Gods]

[denjjisgf]

NEW PERSON, SAME OLD MISTAKES maneater reader x unsuspecting s. gojo

cw: no smut but EXPLICIT CHARACTER DEATH, stalking, drugging, stabbing, dismemberment, vomiting, obsession, reader is delusional, despite the tags, this chapter is relatively unserious, not a lot of gojo in this one

series m!list

we all hate doing the walk of shame.

it's tacky and honestly quite embarrassing in a city of 15 million people. normally you're a "get in, get off, get out quick" kinda girl, but today is proving to be not your day. busting through a back alley fire exit of your downtown high rise, you look rather suspicious walking in the early hours of morning. a gym bag was slung over your shoulder and you were limping slightly from the duffel's dead weight.

it takes 20 minutes to drive to your worksite, a desolate plot of land which used to be a forest and is soon to be a spanking new subdivision. it also happens to be where you dump your bodies.

your car swivels when it rolls off the pavement and into wet gravel. you hum to the song playing on the radio, twirling the woven fiber strap on the bag, seated in the front passenger's spot. the sun is barely risen and the sky tinged with orange and clouds. driving through dug up holes and the bare bones of homes, just on the edge of the property is a woodchipper.

the car lurches as it stops, as if it was digging its heels into the ground, frightened by what's to come next. if there's time for a little candor, you're pretty freaked out too. your hands tremble, just barely (and mostly because of the cold), fingers sinking into a rubber-cased "on/off" switch. the machine roars to life, screaming with hunger, and an awful gnashing sound fills your ears. a flurry of leaves gets kicked in the air and remnants of sawdust floats down onto your hair and shoulders.

"fuck, i hate this shit," you grumble, dropping the heavy duffle to the frozen ground and dusting yourself off. you take a quick look around, scanning for innocent bystanders, lost children, generally anyone who would be alarmed by what you're about to do.

you zip open the bag and grimace at the severed head floating on top of neatly stacked pairs of arms and legs. its mouth was slack, frozen in a scream, tongue pale and bloody. the hack job on the neck was definitely not your best work, but considering the circumstances, careless and hasty, you were pleased with your bonesaw skills while inebriated.

after making sure the wheelie cart was positioned to catch the guts of the woodchipper, you chucked an arm into the mouth of it and a finger flew up into the air, bouncing back into your hand. the dead flesh is cold in your palm, and you feel the blood rush from your head, down. you run to the treeline, queasy from your hangover, and vomit. the alcohol-tinged bile burns as it comes up.

what a shitty valentine's day.

...earlier this week...

"why is it i only see you fleeing the scene?"

satoru. entertaining his stupid flirtations only makes you smart mouthed, and you're weak for that sharp glint in his eye, brows perked up in half shock, half arousal.

"huh, couldn't tell'ya," twisting your body to match his eyes as you walk by. "if only i could manage to get out a little bit quicker. it feels like sneaking out and getting caught by dad," and with a wink, you're slinking out his apartment lobby door. shameless as fuck, he undresses you with his eyes.

you don’t know, but he loves that bratty mouth, your little innuendos. that sexy body when you swing your hips for him, leaving from another man's place. he runs his palm down his face, groaning, wishing you wanted him instead.

telling satoru you were dating someone in the building, in some ways, worked in your favor. he no longer questioned seeing you around, in the elevator and by the trash chute. no, you weren't stealing his trash, but you did check for condom wrappers.

now, before you go and judge, you had a job too! you couldn't just watch him every night, but it had begun to drive you mildly insane not knowing what he was doing. you contemplated installing cameras in his place and began lashing out at your employees when they fucked up paperwork and you had to stay late. everyone had become a barrier and all you needed was satoru.

but other times, the white lie left you frustrated and wondering what would've happened if he was flirting with you at the cafe instead of that barista. would you still have wanted to end his life, feel his blood drain, and body go cold? the image makes you shiver now.

which is probably what's stopping you from killing satoru. you feel like you're starting to lose your edge. i mean, two weeks ago, you let that girl from the club go, and now you’re more of a stalker than a killer.

you leave his place at the perfect time to bump into him, when are buzzing with adrenaline from sneaking around, dopamine and lust. not only do you get to be in his space, but you also get to see him. relaxing your "not letting potential victims see you" rule to spare a few fleeting seconds with satoru, the two of you dance around small talk and shoving your tongues down each others' throats every time.

you wish you had stuck around to talk to him that next day when you're searching through his laptop, the one he conveniently left unlocked.

"A DATE???!!" if steam could fume from your head, it would have. how could this have happened?? but there it was, the third most recent conversation with "jessica", confirming a date on february 14th, just thirty minutes ago.

you're pacing, staring at the open messages app. stomping over to the couch, you perch on the armrest and tumble backwards into the throw pillows. your fingers tap to open the app store, downloading hinge, impatiently tapping your phone case as the meter gauge fills.

why didn't he ask you?!

that stupid imaginary boyfriend... god, why did you say that?? why not a "best friend" or "dogwalker", some shit like that? you can't wallow alone on valentine's, knowing your satoru is out with another woman, you have to find another date. something else to preoccupy your time.

you know if you stay at home, you'll only end up back at his place, furious and bloodthirsty. while you're experienced, for sure, you've never done a threesome, and with your recent track record, it's best not to try anything new.

in a breeze you create a profile. you swipe through a few accounts, and close the app, disappointed. none of them were satoru. your silver fox, tall, broad, and aging like fine wine. the thought makes you swoon and snuggle deeper into his sofa.

you left earlier that night, wanting to deprive satoru of your subtle affections in passing. by the time you're tucked into bed, you have several "let's fuck" dms on hinge, and significantly less viable candidates than you'd hoped for. it is internet dating, so i don't know what you expected.

on valentine's day, you're strapping on a pair of ruby low pumps and smoothing down the black fabric of your cocktail dress. the bar your date had picked was only a couple blocks away, so you opt to walk, cinching the waistbelt of your trench coat, and going.

you were the first to arrive. you left a little early, so you could have plenty of time to survey the area, get comfortable before your date- matt, mike, you don't know, and frankly don't care- got there. you wave down the bartender and pass him a titanium card to start a tab. you have a couple drinks while you wait, and when your date got there, you have a couple more.

the rest of your memory is foggy from here. you had a lot to drink last night, and this morning, head splitting open from the inside and covered in blood, proved you blacked out sometime between 10 pm. and boy, were you busy.

it was quite alarming to wake up to actually, fingers crusted in blood, your hair matted in certain spots. pieces of bone shard were caught in your sweatshirt and your hands ached like you were using heavy machinery. the bonesaw... goddamnit. what was wrong with you?! the closed bathroom door stared eerily back at you. you were afraid to see what was behind it.

by the corner of the bedroom, sitting on a black, hefty trash bag, is a duffle bag, busting to the seams. hey, looks like last-night-you left you a gift. not long after, there you were. you grab the last body part in the nike duffle, your date, the man from quebec's leg, and toss it over your head. speckles of blood smack against your lips as the metal teeth chew up the limb and shit it out its other end.

drinking to oblivion wasn't your thing, you didn't like feeling out of control, so you chalked it up to "the satoru problem". you speed home when the body was disposed of, leaving the gorey scene behind, and your victim's bits and pieces churning in a cement truck. you were desperate to shower, dirt and blood caked in your cuticles, skin coated in a layer of filth.

sliding the key into the front door, you sigh with relief when you make it back to your penthouse. you climb the glass staircase, heading into your bedroom. the scent of iron and something sour tinge the air. the bathroom light shines faintly under the bottom of the door.

peering inside, you feel your mouth pool with saliva, holding back a gag. carnage is everywhere. your modern, pristine white bathroom is painted with blood and sinewy vessels like hair on a shower wall. thick, viscous puddles yet to dry are in circles all over the floor, but majority of the damage is in the tub. you run the shower head and the water shifts from crimson to pink after a few minutes.

it takes all afternoon to clean up the mess the man from quebec's dismemberment made. you make a vow to never kill anyone drunk or without planning ever again. you delete the messages you sent to him on the dating app and erase your profile.

it wasn't smart to kill without planning, and dumping the bodies near your company's buildsite requires thoughtful planning. you pray the construction guys pave on their merry way and pay no mind to the chunks of human flesh in the cement.

"this has to be the last time," you tell yourself. great, now you're talking to yourself outloud. you had official lost it. satoru gojo was the only thing you could think about, he consumed you. you decided in a split second, and then you're buckling your seatbelt, taking off to his apartment. you knew he was home, it was the weekend, so he had no reason to be at the office.

when you got there, you walked straight to the intercom, punching in his apartment unit. it buzzes four times before his voice cuts in, grainy through the shitty box speaker, but all the same shoots electricity in your veins.

"hello?"

"hey, gojo. it's me."

"oh hey...how'd you know which unit was mine?"

"ah," you clear your throat, "i've been calling all the units. luckily you answered this time."

he chuckles sexily through the intercom. "are you that desperate to talk to me?"

"actually, yea."

he's silent on the other end and you fidget in place, second guessing coming here on a whim. i mean, to be honest, it's not like the two of you are that close. he probably flirts with everyone...

"oh. hmm- where's the boyfriend? trouble in paradise already?"

"i'm thinking of ending things. i haven't told him yet, i just- i just know it's gonna be the best thing for me."

"so, you aren't gonna tell him, but you'll call every unit in the building to tell me?"

"look, i'm just looking for some comfort. these are difficult times and i had a rough valentine's day, okay?!" you're choking up, suprisingly for real, "my "boyfriend" took another woman out last night."

he's silent. "i'm really sorry. i- i didn't realize."

"satoru?"

"yea?"

"do you still have that guest pass?"

"i'll be right down."

sorry if i lost the plot @megumisthirdog

[gamerbot-22]

Spending Valentine's Day with the Trigang!

GIF by the-princess-cinnamon

TW/CW: Written with a combination of traits from across Trigun versions, written with the idea that they and reader are in a relationship (separately), lots of pet names!!! (Mayfly, Angel, Honey, Sweetheart), I am aiming to make y'all's teeth rot on how sweet these are, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Characters Included: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Stryfe, Milly Thompson, Millions Knives/Nai

Recommended Listening: my love, mine all mine . a short playlist

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you all are having a wonderful day, whether you have a partner to spend it with, a friend, or just your lovely self <3

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! It’s all under the cut!

Dividers in this post were made by @/strangergraphics ☆

🥀 Vash the Stampede

GIF by kvroko

He is the most lovesick man in the world on this day, let me tell you.

You wake up and see him in bed next to you just absolutely whipped. He wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles in close and his first words are "Happy Valentine's, Mayfly..." before just drowning you in kisses.

Originally the plan was he would get up and make you breakfast in bed but he got all caught up in being close to you. So you're making breakfast together! It turns out nice, even if you two struggle to get it right.

There's not really flowers on Gunsmoke, but he knows what they look like. So you get a drawing of all sorts of flowers, with meanings only half-remembered from books he used to pour over as a kid.

If you got him anything it takes all of his effort not to fall apart on you. (Please get him something sweet, he deserves it!!)

He wants to take you dancing so baaaad. Like serious bad. There is nothing he loves more than getting to just be close to you and spin you around.

Vash spends all day trying to find a place to take you dancing, but it's a little hard to do that when you're an outlaw and an outlaw's partner. The effort is there but it just doesn't pan out.

But you know? There's something special about slow dancing with Vash by the fire out in the desert while he hums a song to you under the stars <333

🍭 Nicholas D. Wolfwood

GIF by mine-loves

I don't think Valentine's Day had been on his radar in a very very long time, so it's probably either day of or immediately upon waking up where he realizes "Oh shit, I need to do something--"

You're about halfway through the morning thinking that you're not getting anything from him when he nearly goes ass over teakettle rushing over to you. He has a half-crushed box of sweets in one hand and a bottle of something bubbly in the other and the most embarrassed look on his face.

He mumbles out a "Sorry, Angel, I almost forgot--" and holds both gifts out to you with his head bowed, like a shy kid or a nervous dog. But you take them in your hands and give him a kiss on the cheek and he doesn't feel as bad.

You two end up sharing, and while the sweets and drinks might be cheap, the time isn't. Hell, maybe you two even end up feeding each other like those sappy couples in those newspaper ads.

He's not a man of flowery words, but he did learn a lot about the saints as a kid. I don't think Wolfwood would frame it as a gift or anything, but when there's a quiet moment he tells you the story of St. Valentine if you're willing to listen.

"He used to perform weddin's for people 'n secret," he tells you, one arm wrapped around your shoulders. "People weren't too big on the Man Upstairs back in the day, so what he was doin' was pretty dangerous. Didn't stop him, though. Or the people he married."

Then he turns his head away from you to save some face. He doesn't want to put too many ideas in either of your heads, but... the idea is kinda nice. For the future.

Once he gets past the nerves though, you get all the kisses you could want. From the crown of your head to your eyelids to your cheeks to your lips. He has a new favorite holiday <333

📸 Meryl Stryfe

GIF by mine-loves

"Ah, honey! My birthday was yesterday! You already got me a gift; you didn't have to get me anything, really!"

She says that, but honestly she's really happy that you would go out of her way to give her a gift a second day in a row. Like! You didn't have to!! But you did!!!

So she takes it and gives you a kiss and when she pulls away her face is so pink. It's precious, and with her soft cheeks she looks a bit like a sweet all on her own.

And you get such a nice gift in turn. I think she's the type to get you something to wear or decorate yourself with, so she gives you this really beautiful pendant on a chain to wear either around your neck or wrapped tight around your wrist.

She also does her damndest to have a nice dinner reservation lined up, if you're in a part of Gunsmoke that allows. She wants to get all dolled up with you and just have a nice evening in whatever luxury an insurance agent/newspaper reporter's salary can get you.

And after dinner, if you still have energy, maybe you can go to a show together! Surely somebody has to be doing something on a stage nearby, right? And if they serve food too, you can share a dessert while you listen.

I think you two end up at a comedy show and have a great time, either laughing until your sides get sore or sharing some amused-if-sympathetic if the person on stage is floundering.

By the end of the night, Meryl's pretty beat and ready to just prop herself up in bed with you. I don't think she even makes it out of her clothes, she just lays her head on your chest and drifts off on the spot <333

💼 Milly Thompson

Breakfast! In! Bed! For! Her! Sweetheart!!!

You get the absolute gentlest wake-up call. She puts her hand on your shoulder, kisses your temple, and chimes "Good morning, sweetheart! Happy Valentine's!"

While you eat she gives you her big plan for the day: Nothing! She just wants to stay in with you and relax all day. And she seems so genuinely excited for that it's nigh impossible to tell her no, especially when she assures you that she still has special things to do in mind.

Once you're both ready to be up and out of bed, she gets the radio tuned to you guys' favorite music station so there's a nice backdrop to all your activities.

Then you spend the whole day just. Making things together. Poetry, stories, silly songs for just the two of you, and all the while there's that lovely music playing and a batch of cookies in the oven for later.

And once the cookies are done and cooled, it's time to ice them! You have so much fun mixing colours and making all these pretty patterns that look absolutely nothing like the book you're using for reference.

At first, Milly is a little upset she's not as good as the pictures, but you help her realized two very important things: no one else could make patterns exactly like she is, and they'll taste delicious either way!

Your evening is spent feeding each other cookies and going over all the things you've made together, and when you kiss each other goodnight you both taste like icing <333

🔪 Millions Knives/Nai

WE'RE PLAYING IN THE SPACE HE'S HERE TOO!! Nai lovers I see you and I love you!!! /p You deserve some time with your man on the holiday, too!

I don't think he would really mention the holiday or observe it in any special way, but like...

If he's playing his piano and you come in and be quiet, he won't stop. Even when he sees you sitting on the floor or leaning against the piano out of the corner of his eyes.

He has that one piece he plays all of the time, Visitation of a Calamity/Memory of a Piano, but it's not the only one he knows. After he's finished with that one for this bout of practice, he shifts into another one.

It's calming by some definition. It's still very powerful, and it reverberates off the ceiling and in your ribs, but it doesn't feel like the usual posturing that the other piece evokes.

It's sweeping still, but less a torrent and more a breeze that catches the folds of your clothes and the air from your lungs. It feels a little like flying, you think.

He doesn't say a word to you until he finishes the suite, then without even looking at you, he asks "Is there something you needed me for?"

And I mean... is there? <333

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Why do u think ttpd was mostly about MH if they only dated for a few months? We're they in a long secretive relationship that no one knew about? I am just asking and trying to understand how she wrote basically a whole album about someone who supposedly she was in a short relationship with

Sorry if this sounds curt, but I'm assuming you're asking this is good faith, so I'm going to give a short but multi-part answer.

Shortest, most distilled version: Because she blew up her life as a result of his actions and that caused a series of very chaotic and tumultuous events in a very short period of time, which resulted in a lot of material to write about.

Slightly longer version: Because he was the vehicle for a lot of serious issues she was dealing with, both personally and within her long term relationship. So even the songs "about" him are really about many other things in her life, and in many cases he turned out to be the person she projected these things onto. The MH story is less about him as a serious love interest, and more about how her life was crumbling and his presence became an exit strategy that she fell for due to what a seriously desperate state she was in. Basically, most of the songs about the short relationship in essence are about the long-term relationship that disintegrated, in that she uses the short one as a foil for that. All the hopes and dreams she conjures up in the songs about him are there because they're the ones she had in the LTR that were dead, and she was seeking an escape hatch to avoid dealing with that painful reality. But the flip side is that: he knew what those dreams were and deliberately used those to seduce her and conquer her, and when he satisfied that need he discarded her. Which meant that she was dealing with both the violation of the new person she trusted AND finally feeling the crash of the end of the LTR in one fell swoop. And THAT is why much of the album is "about" him.

But really, the album is about HER. Through the various people she writes about, she's processing her own: grief, trauma, loss, vices, actions, desires, reflections on life, visions of her future, place in society, constraints within society, womanhood, parenthood and personhood.

Besides, artists can create entire albums about fleeting moments. Taylor herself says she can write a whole song about something she experienced in a fleeting moment. And in the moment of time she's describing, she went through very high highs and low lows and was pulled in a million different directions, so idk, that sounds like plenty of fodder to me for a genius songwriter.

So no, they were not in a long secretive relationship. Sometimes a short time can be full of so many emotions and events that they lead an artist to delve into many topics at once in their art. Which is what happened on TTPD. Besides, if you take the entire Anthology into account, there are songs about so many other things involved that it's not "just" the short relationship, even if it sets the stage for everything else.

[chilling-seavey]

Till We Meet Again (ls18)

↳ Timeless: F1 Grid Masterlist

↳ Summary: The Canadian army gave almost a million souls to the Great War. On the morning of November 11th, the shelling stops and Lance struggles to adapt to the silence.

↳ Title Song: Till We Meet Again by Charles Hart and Lewis James (1918)

↳ Word Count: 0.9k

↳ A/N: Oh how I love emotionally destroying characters through my favourite period in history x

↳ Warnings: Descriptions of war and death and corpses, mentions of thoughts of suicide and hopelessness.

November 1918

The sound of shellfire almost felt comforting to Lance after four years spent at the front. When the news of the impending armistice came, he had almost forgotten what silence was like, what life was like before the khaki uniforms and the weapons and the mud. It felt entirely foreign. He would have to sail back to Canada and return to a land untouched by war, to people who didn’t understand. For four years he had been filled with this pit of loneliness. Surrounded by thousands of men constantly and yet war was so damn lonely. 

The men with whom he enlisted back in 1914 were all long since deceased; their bodies blown to smithereens and rotting in battlefields or crudely buried in makeshift graves behind the Allied front lines. Making friends was futile—they would be killed before you formed a proper friendship—and Lance had learned that the hard way, more times than he cared to admit. Perhaps he was naïve. 

Lance swore that the fact he was still alive was equal parts a miracle and a curse. He thought about it before; taking his own life. It would be so easy to just dislodge his bayonet from his rifle and stab himself in the stomach (never in the chest; the blade would get stuck between the ribs. That was their first lesson in training camp) and bleed out in the murky waters of the Belgian trenches with the ever-grey skies stretched out above him. 

But, as much as Lance wanted to put an end to his own suffering and the suffering of the hundreds of thousands of men alongside him, he knew he was no coward. No way on God’s blasted Earth was he going to subject his parents to the letter from the General that their son had died a coward’s death. So he sat in the mud and he waited for an absolution for four fucking years. 

On the morning of November 11th, it had become common knowledge that at eleven o’clock, Germany’s surrender would be in effect and all fighting would halt. Lance, who had worked his way up to the rank of Lieutenant over his four years at the front, ensured that his platoon knew that they were still in active combat until the clock struck. There was to be no lollygagging. That was how you got shot.  

Bombardments from both sides stretched on through the morning and every time Lance watched one of his men fall, dead, at his feet, he wondered if this was all worth it. His pocket watch, with its glass cracked from some earlier battle he had fought and won, counted up the minutes towards the top of the hour. He swore he heard cheering behind the shellfire, cheering in anticipation for the ceasefire. 

Lance joined his men for a last hurrah; standing at the parapet of their intricate trenches carved through the heart of the Earth. He had grown up into a man in those trenches, learning what it was to live and die in that rat infested grime from his first day as a Private at the ripe age of eighteen. In a way, war was all he knew. As he stood there on the firestep, Lee Enfield rifle pointed out towards No Man’s Land and firing at will, he wondered if life after would be far more hellish than war itself. 

He had a nephew back home in Montreal, his sister had written to tell him. She had given birth almost a year prior by then. He had yet to meet the little fella. Part of him didn’t want to. How could he even think to touch something so precious and innocent with hands that had killed hundreds of men? In the privacy of his own mind, Lance silently hoped for the final German bullet to hit him square between the eyes. 

Instead, the top of the hour came and the Belgian battlefields fell silent—ear-ringing silent. While most of the men cheered and tossed aside their weapons and shared embraces of camaraderie, that the worst was over, Lance was amongst the few who were stunned motionless. 

He lowered his rifle from the parapet and let the butt of it fall to the firestep under his feet with a dull clunk before it toppled over onto the mud with a wet splat. His boot followed, stepping down, one and then the other, his expression solemn and unflinching even as men bustled around him, jostling him to and fro. 

Lance flopped down into one of the dugouts in the wall of the trench as if his legs could no longer hold him up. He rested back against the familiar Earth, the damp soil that smelt of rain and corpses, and he turned his eyes upwards to the sky. Men around him thanked God for this joyous end. God? There was no God. God was as dead as the rest of them. 

He reached up with muddy fingers and pulled off his helmet as his body melted into the shape of the small dugout. His dark hair was plastered across his forehead in mud, sweat, blood…his skin tinged a permanent murky orange-brown hue from it too. He couldn’t remember the last time he looked in a mirror. The thought alone filled him with dread. Everything now, every thought, held an undertone of dread.

The uncertainty of war was constant and reassuring: fight to live or die. It was black and white. 

The certainty of the comforts and luxuries of life outside of it was fucking terrifying. 

While the world celebrated peace, Lance sat.

He put his face in his soiled hands and he sat, and sat, and sat. 

And waited for an absolution.

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[prbywoo]

For some reason i always tend to stan groups only when they disband this happened to me with izone, wannaone, and gfriend, as well as monsta X. Ive has one of the best concepts in kpop and they also have YUJIN!! Literally everyone loves yujin as well as wonyoung both are iconics icoms and recently I've been really liking their stage outfits especially rei's and liz's. Chaeyeon has my heart she's so talenteddd she really needs to leave her company and omg i can't talk enough about yuri I think everyone had a crush on her during squid game.

So true honestly min heejin and bang pd were so immature and arrogant, like it's not one person who's gonna get affected it's groups, dozens of groups, staff, and all the important people under both companies. They didn't acknowledge the fact that they're being silly and just could've kept it lowkey until everything had worked out and both parties got wjat they wanted, and I personally think that the ceo of hybe could've done something to solve this problem but he didn't, I think that both min heejin and bang pd should've dealt with this on their own and of not they should've been terminated from their companies, and this affected everyone under hybe and even outside of hybe.

And omg the remixes are crazy and mot in a good way the only remix and collab I genuinely enjoyes was standing next to you with usher like we got the best of both worlds, and this might be a personal opinion but I think that behind the problematic people they've collabed with is just a marketing team who think they're being smart because come on how could you not know about people who are popular celebrities and influencers. I agree with you on the court thing but now they're signed under an American record label and from what they've said they're gonna still make korean songs just like they used to so they're still kpop just under an american label.

If i was a staff having to prepare that many outfits for like nct or seventeen I'd better get paid a million dollars cause how do they deal with it omg, and ateez were naked in Coachella and still had that many bags. Imagome you're a staff preparing like let's say 6 outfits for each member of like ateez 8 x6 is 48 and that's excluding the backup dnacers. I'd quit on the first day

I was having a bad day and decided to watch some hongjoong tiktoks until I stumbled upon this shit ass account and I'm actually so pissed

Like girl called hongjoong a gdragon wannabe, said that he's selfish, taking "opportunities" from the vocalists of the group, and that he's the one not giving lines to his members

How can people be so stupid, I mean he's still making money and doesn't care about whatever these dumb haters are saying

[leclerc-apologist]

If tiktok is getting banned I need to post this max edit for posterity

[thatone-highlighter]

I love you albums. I love you songs connected by similar themes. I love you listening to songs in a specific order picked by the artist. I love you reoccurring motifs throughout the same album. I love you album covers. I love you albums with extended editions. I love you songs that reference each other.

[stargirl092]

Songs Lucy dacus writes about men are like “yeah I dated this guy when I was 13 and he sucked what a fucking loser” and “I will jump out of this car and walk home 4 miles in the snow” but the songs she writes about women are like “hey, I will kill your dad if you want just give me the word” and “if you marry your dumbass boyfriend I’ll throw my shoe at you on your wedding day”

[cosmicoceanfic]

What’s the origin of your blog title?

My username on AO3 is cosmicocean and somebody already has that URL and even if they didn’t at this point I’ve been directing people to this one too long to change it.

OTPs shipname

I’m in Star Wars mode so I’m gonna go with my best beloved Stormpilot but as always shoutout to Destiel which is why I assume most of you are here.

Favorite color

I love a purple.

Favorite game

Mariokart, although I’ve become partial to Stardew Valley.

Song stuck in your head

Until Olympius Returns (Jordan Lake version).

Weirdest habit/trait

Uhhhh fuck man. OCD folks got a lot of these. When I was a kid I only stopped exercising on the treadmill once it hit an even number?

Hobbies

Writing fanfiction, knitting, and crochet.

If you work, what’s your profession

Unemployed, regrettably.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I have a couple answers to this, but I’m gonna say I would love to own a fiber shop in Brookline, Massachusetts.

Something you’re good at

Writing, mostly, as it turns out.

Something you’re bad at

Writing fight scenes and every social interaction I’ve ever had

Something you love

My friends and family, and also burgers.

Something you could talk about for hours and hours off the cuff

Does it have to be educational or can I just spend a lot of time expounding on my love for The Titanic?

Something you hate

I am also gonna go for texture here so I can bitch about how salmon has the best taste and the worst mouthfeel.

Something you collect

I do not have a collector’s budget, but if I did, I would be awash in typewriters.

Something you forget

I have that shitty ADHD working memory, so literally everything.

What’s your love language?

Any time I see hot sauce in the wild I buy a bottle for one of my best friends. so probably something like that.

Favorite movie/show

My favorite movies and shows rotate around on a pretty regular basis, but I’m about to start posting an AU where the Mandalorian adopts Rey so I guess right now it’s The Force Awakens and The Mandalorian.

Favorite food

Probably ice cream or cake. Birthday party ass answer.

Favorite animal

Dogs.

What were you like as a child?

A bundle of nerves, mostly.

Favorite subject at school?

Creative writing.

Least favorite subject at school?

MATH.

What’s your best character trait?

I love people very deeply, I think.

What’s your worst character trait?

When I’m going through an anxiety spiral I get VERY fucking annoying VERY quickly has got to be up there.

If you could change any detail of your life, what would it be?

I would have approximately fifteen million dollars in my bank account. I was gonna say “and also a two bedroom apartment in Brookline” but the fifteen mil will get me there (barely)

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Uhhhhh fuck. I never think about this. Cary Grant, maybe? For perfectly legitimate, non horny reasons?

I’m tagging @dont-offend-the-bees, @kieren-fucking-walker, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Get to know your mutuals!!!

cheers @stevie-marigold for tagging me!

What's the origin of your blog title?

doccy who! plus me mum always used to say i have telescopic arms. personally i think they're a normal length

OTP(s) Shipname:

johnlock, i will forever be a johnlocker no matter which version of those freaks we're talking about

Favourite colour:

orange <3

Favourite game:

factorio! i greatly enjoy the spagetti of it

Song stuck in your head:

antmusic by adam and the ants

Weirdest habit/trait?

darling everything i do is deeply weird, couldn't do something normal if i tried

Hobbies:

writing, reading, nuisance making, music enjoying, getting in the way, and various wool-related crafts

If you work, what's your profession?

im the imp who sits in your camera and paints the pictures for you (im out of blue btw)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

id invent hexopostcards, which are hexagonal postcards and only have pictures of six sided things on. if a thing has more than six sides than you've got to have the seventh+ side(s) off the edge of the postcard. if it has less than six you have to draw where the rest of the sides could feasibly be. then id retire

Something you're good at:

answering questions truthfully

Something you're bad at:

eating dog food

Something you love:

doing jigsaws

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

doccy who. i just do that anyway

Something you hate:

jigsaws that have too much sky so its all just blue (doesn't include my starry night puzzle)

Something you collect:

vinyls, posters, things ill use someday, names, ideas of things to write

Something you forget:

my best friends birthday. i have it written down and i still forget consistently

What's your love language?

circular gallifreyan

Favourite movie/show:

oh theres so many. doccy who and torchwood, sherlock, merlin (im really from a specific time going by those answers) loads of films too but, to say an obscure one to make me sound cool, mcfarland usa

Favourite food:

the souls of the damned. failing that pasta

Favourite animal:

@zelda-wheelz

What were you like as a child?

weird nervous about everything and a nerd

Favourite subject at school?

maths! don't ask me to remember a single thing from my alevels though

Least favourite subject:

drama. hated acting in front of all those eyes

What's your best character trait?

i like to think im quite nice

What's your worst character trait?

asking @zelda-wheelz the answers for half these questions

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

id move

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

george michael, so long as i can bring my mum

tagging: @captainfairygodmother @b1uetrees @by-gray

[asurrogateblog]

love the thing paul does where he’ll pause an otherwise innocent song to add a random and incredibly suspect stanza about a failed relationship to it and then move on as if he didn’t just say All That. like was there something you wanted to share with the class buddy?

[artuurle]

"I have hands for building altars Lips to pray to reckless gods Yeah, I was made to be a devotee " " Won't someone teach me to love without it swallowing me whole, If to be loved is to be changed, I'm only worsenin' " you can see where i gave up on this but WHATEVAH. i usually work in doodles and sketches for a reason lol.