#and this was the song i was listening to when i found out as well

[novvabee]

The Boys in the Band

AN: I got carried away with this one, but here is the second part to the band au

word count: 2.8k

cw: language? there is nothing really bad about this one.

Since your first show, you had been quite busy. You had opened for a couple bands at The Common Room, you booked a few nights at the popular club, The Hog’s Head, and managed to snag a spot in another festival. You had become popular very quickly amongst the girls, gays, theys, and young people in the city. Each gig you noted more and more fans, crowds growing, singing so loud and dancing so hard. 

This is what you always dreamed of, performing and making people happy. You lived for the drama and theatrics of it all, dressing up on stage and singing your heart out. The girls felt the same electricity, the same passion as you. That made your bond as a group that much stronger.

Not to mention, you were all good friends. Lily had mentioned to you that she and Mary had been messing around and found out they actually sounded really good together. Then they asked Marlene if she would play drums, which she said yes to in a heartbeat. And then Lily realized they needed a front woman, someone who could sing and bring the most energy. She thought of you, your bold and fierce attitude, your flirty and fun personality. And that is how you started.

The four of you wrote all the music you performed; the fun and girly songs by Mary, the campy over-the-top songs about women by Marlene, the sad and slow ballads by yourself, and the thought provoking and experimental ones by Lily.

Mary had the upbeat, girly, pop songs down. Her personality just flowed with inspiration for them, so those were the types of songs that you mostly sang and performed. You weren’t complaining, her songs were half the fun.

Marlene was full of something you all liked to tease her about; lesbian angst. But all that angst made for great songs to perform and were usually the crowd favorites.

Lily was slightly different, she was full of thoughts and ideas about the world, and her medium to get them out of her brain and into the world, was through music and lyrics. She wrote a lot of songs for women, for rights for all and for political change. If you had to pick, you would say hers were by far your favorites. She didn’t write often, but when she did, she had a message, something to say. You loved that about her.

Your songs were all ballads and sad. The girls teased you about that too, saying you shouldn’t let a man make you cry. It wasn’t exactly your fault, you had just gotten out of a long term relationship, and were drawing inspiration from all the confusing, mixed feelings that came with that. 

You had been dating this boy, Matthew, for about a year and a half, but everything seemed to take a turn for the worse a couple months ago. Your once sweet and charming boyfriend had turned into this cold, vacant man right in front of you. You two argued all the time, about small things as well as very important, serious things. He started accusing you of sneaking around, hiding things from him, cheating on him. None of it was true, and you tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.

So you had enough. You told him that if you two couldn’t work things out, you didn’t know if you could continue on. He said nothing, just agreed with you. He didn’t try to mend the broken relationship, didn't try to fight either for you or with you. You would’ve taken either, but he just walked away.

As much as you tell yourself you’re doing so much better, that you have moved on and don’t care about him anymore, that isn’t exactly true.

You leaned into the band to distract yourself, putting everything you had in it so that you wouldn’t be left with those feelings. You’re just glad you had your friends, your girls who not only could help you through it, but also help you see this band through. They ignited you.

You felt that way even just sitting on the floor of Mary’s apartment. The space was cute and cozy. You girls were sprawled out over fluffy rugs, a plush couch, and two oversized bean bags. 

Mary was nodding her head along to a beat that only she could hear, writing down what you could only guess were new lyrics. Lily was strumming a tune she had been working on for over a week. You and Marlene were talking about what to wear for your upcoming show. 

“I think you'd look good in that pink leotard with the matching cowgirl boots.” Marlene recommended.

“The pink tassels or the pink heart?” you asked.

She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “The tassels, that way you can wear the boots and maybe a cowboy hat,” she paused looking at the other two, “maybe we can try out Pink Pony?”

Excited, you clapped your hands together. You had been dying to perform this new song in front of a crowd and this was the perfect opportunity. You were playing at The Common Room again, but this time it was only you. Unlike every other performance you had, this time there were no openers, and no one else after you. You got a whole set for yourselves and the whole night to perform and party with fans.

The night was going to be nothing short of magical.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James followed Remus and Sirius into the stage door of The Common Room.

All three boys wanted to come and see the performance that The Pixies were giving tonight. They had gained a lot of traction recently, seemingly overnight.

James didn’t feel at all jealous or threatened, they were doing just as well themselves, and they made entirely different music. He was more curious as to the fact that this band came out of nowhere.

The Marauders were used to competition revolving around the music world. They had been doing this for a while now, they understood the fight to fill spots and book sets. This band was just another contender now.

James was more frequently used to The Snakes stealing their gigs or spots in festivals, but now even they were pushed aside for this new band. The Snakes was led by Sirius’s little brother Regulus, another person on the list James hadn’t spoken to in a while. James knew that Regulus was a grudge holder, hell, he was related to Sirius, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Regulus cut all contact.

He fucked up, he knew he did. But he still wasn’t ready to think about it.

Slipping through the crowd and continuing to follow as best he could, all three boys ended up in the back of the already packed room. 

“Holy shit,” Sirius began, “there are so many people. How much were tickets?” He asked Remus.

Remus answered with a head shake. “Don’t know, Lily told me to come in through the back door so we wouldn’t have to pay.”

James’s stomach sunk, maybe he shouldn’t have come. Lily didn’t even invite him, he just tagged along with Remus. But, she had to have known that would happen, right? The boys didn’t do anything or go anywhere without each other.

“Oh my god! Hi,” came a voice from a girl to his right. “You’re The Marauders right? I love you guys. I’ve been to, like, a bunch of shows.” James recognized this girl. She was always front row or close enough, always giving Sirius a look that showed she wanted to fuck him, or at least become a groupie. “Could I get a pic?” she asked.

Sirius smirked. “Course you can sweetheart.” he said while she handed her phone to someone she was with. She stood between Remus and Sirius for the photo, then thanked the boys, obviously wanting the interaction to continue. 

James did not. He would look like such an asshole taking pictures with fans at Lily’s show.

The thought was cut short when the house lights dimmed and the stage turned a hazy pink color. James lost every thought in his head when you came out on stage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Walking out onto the stage, you were met by a wall of sound, cheers and screams. Your nerves and butterflies instantly fluttered away. This is where you were meant to be, up here on this stage, in front of a crowd, making music. You had dreamed of this since you were a little girl.

You pranced yourself out in a cowboy hat and high heel boots, a matching sparkly and intricately tasseled leotard to top it all off. Your ass may be out, but that was the fun of it, the aesthetic. Especially for the new song you had prepared for the night. 

“Hello my friends.” you said, the cheers and screams somehow getting even louder. “We are The Pixies,” you introduced, “and we are here to give you the night of your life.”

You looked around the crowd to see so many faces enhanced with intricate and beautiful makeup looks, so many fans copying looks from your previous performances, so many bodies in bright colors. So many people who felt confident in what they were wearing and how they looked. 

“We’re gonna start off with a new one if that’s ok with you.” You announced you got an astounding amount of cheers, noting many phones launch into the air to record this new one. “This song is a fun one but more importantly,” you paused, the whole crowd hanging on your breath, “it is about what my mother thinks I am doing with my life. Here is Pink Pony Club!”

The girls started playing the intro and you walked to the front of the stage, sitting down, legs dangling off.

I know you wanted me to stay

But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place

Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

You stood, walking back to center stage.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee

Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

You whipped around to the audience

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You started dancing and jumping around stage, Lily and Mary joining you, smiles plastered on their faces

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The audience had settled into the performance, had gotten into the groove of the song, and joined in the dancing and the fun.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball

Every night's another reason why I left it all

I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica, you've been too good to me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The crowd was going crazy, right along with you, until you slowed down and the girls played quieter for the bridge.

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee

You're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You jumped up and danced like crazy, the crowd joining in, loving this new song. Some picked up on the lyrics and were singing them back to you, the feeling indescribable.

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing

I'm gonna keep on dancing

You kept dancing as Lily and Mary played the outro, out of breath and so happy. Once the song was finished, the whole building was filled with cheering. You looked to Mary, then over to Lily, they looked just as ecstatic, you could imagine Marlene felt the same. 

“Thank you, thank you!” you said into the mic. “Well, if you like that Common Room, we’re just getting started.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James had never seen a concert, a band like yours. There was no way to describe it, you were just, stars already. 

The rest of the concert was filled with just as much fun, joy as the first song. The dancing and singing and laughing was indescribable. 

The boys waited after the concert, waited until the last of the fans trickled out, then they made their way backstage. Walking down the halls and to the dressing room that had a piece of paper with the word “Pixies” in bold letters, Remus knocked on the door. 

The giggling and sounds of excitement were radiating from the room, loudly even with the door shut.

They waited for a moment before the door pulled open, revealing Mary. The smile dropped from her face for a moment before she put another one in its place, this one though, was more of an uncomfortable grimace more than anything. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here.” Mary said, opening the door to let the boys slide through. She hugged each of them on their way in.

James made eye contact with Lily who was on the couch with Marlene. She didn’t break away. He quickly looked over to Marlene and smiled. “We wanted to come and say great show!” he said, directed at them all, but not being able to look away from Marlene, who just smirked, knowing the situation and that James was incredibly uncomfortable right now.

“Thanks.” Marlene replied smoothly. 

Sirius noted the tension and decided to break it. “Where is she?” he asked.

All eyes went to him as Mary asked “Y/N?”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “No, the queen.” he said sarcastically.

“Are you going to try to sleep with her?” Mary asked, not holding back.

“What, no!” Sirius denied as if it wasn’t exactly something Sirius would do. “I just want to meet her. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.”

Lily scoffed. “She’ll be out in a minute, I think she's taking off her makeup.”

And as if right on que, you waltzed right out of the connected bathroom and into the dressing room. Smiling, you looked at the boys standing across from the couch. 

“Here she is!” Mary ushered you over, chipper and still energized from the performance. “This is Y/N, Y/N these are the boys in The Marauders.”

Your smile grew. “The Marauders? You guys were amazing at the festival.”

Sirius smiled back at you, charming as ever. “‘I'm Sirius.” you looked to the next boy, who was glancing at a fuming Lily.

“Uh, I’m James.” He smiled, seeming to come back to reality and out of whatever thought he was lost in. 

You looked at the final boy, tall and leaning against the wall. “And you’re Remus, right?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah we met a while back, lovely to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you! And it is lovely to finally meet you two.” you said to the newly acquainted Sirius and James, they nodded and smiled politely. There was a noticeable tension between everyone in the room, was there really that much of a rivalry?

“I think the boys were just heading out,” Mary said to the three boys standing in front of her. “Isn't that right?”

Sirius huffed and led the other two out throwing a “See you all soon.” over his shoulder as Mary escorted and followed them out into the hallway, shutting the door beyond her.

“That was… strange.” you said to Lily and Marlene. They just looked at each other and laughed, rolling their eyes. You didn’t understand.

“They're idiots.” Marlene supplied.

“They're boys.” Lily corrected.

Taglist 💌:  @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious (yell at me if I forgot anyone)

[minimomoe]

Believe Me

another song association. this time No One Noticed by The Marias

Toji stood on your front porch with heavy steps. From the looks of it, the house was completely quiet with all the windows devoid of light. It should be, given that it was 1 in the morning. He winced when he checked the time on his phone. You were going chew him out for this. You had every right to. He promised to come home earlier, even went as far as telling you to get all dolled up so that he could take you out and your eyes glittered at the instructions. There was no way you wouldn't be pissed off by his change of plans.

Toji fitted his copy of the key that you gave him into the locks quietly turned the handles. He toed off his shoes and silently padded through the house in search of you. What he didn't expect was for you to be sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, scrolling through your phone with disdain.

"Fucking hell," he started. You had startled the large man. Not enough to make him jump out of his skin but he was sure you'd be sleeping by now. You were usually knocked out once the clock hit 10pm.

"Look who finally decided to show up," you muttered. You didn't even spare him a glance. Swipe, swipe, swipe is all you did with your fingers. Toji carefully treaded to where you sat at. His feet touched something on the ground, and when his eyes adjusted he the black heels that he loved to see decorating your feet on the floor. You were going to wear them out tonight.

"Is your phone broken?"

Toji should answer carefully. If he lied it wouldn't help him, but if he told the truth it would only make you more upset. He got down on one knee, resting his hand on your blanket covered thigh in hopes of warming up to you but you shrugged him off. He sighed.

"No. It isn't."

You sniffled, refusing to look at him. "Right. You told me to get ready, then didn't answer your phone for hours, just to show up here at the dead of night. I went through all seven stages of grief for nothing. Thanks."

"Something came up."

"Something came up," you echoed. Even with the faint glow of your phone illuminating your face, Toji could see the tears start to well up in your lashes. "Must've been important."

Silence stretched for miles between the two of you. Toji could see your walls building up, shutting him out, and he felt a tinge of panic in his chest. He knew he put you through a lot, but that's part of the reason why he loved you. He felt like you understood him better than others. You didn't pry, you didn't have some unrealistic expectation of him; you took him as he was. You loved him. But it seems like even you had your limits.

"Listen, I--"

"Don't worry about it, Toji," you sighed. You swung your legs out from under you and stood up from the couch. The blanket pooled around your feet on the floor, revealing a new dress he hasn't seen before. It was beautiful, hugging your curves and showed off the top of your cleavage. Toji mentally kicked himself once again. "It was my fault, really. I got excited. Too excited. I know how unpredictable your schedule is. I should've expected it."

You sounded defeated. You wanted to walk past him but Toji wouldn't let you. He latched onto your wrist, silently begging you not to go.

"I'm really tired, Toji. So fucking tired," you whispered.

Toji took your by the waist, pulling you closer to his body and you tried to protest. You stiffened your hands on his biceps, wanting to keep the space between your bodies but he wouldn't let you. Toji couldn't afford to give you space right now. Not when you sounded like you wanted to pull away from everything.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he promised. As if his promises were any good. Your gaze was elsewhere- to the side of him, on the floor, past his head. Anywhere but his eyes.

"I should've called you." His lips found your cheek, kissing away the single tear that trailed down your skin. His hands snaked tighter around your frame, encasing you, trapping you in his affection.

"I' fucked up, okay? Look at me." Consoling you for a mistake he made was hard enough. The sincerity and vulnerability that came with being in a relationship is something that Toji had to dig deep to find. It was hundreds of feet below his tough exterior that he has meticulously built and hardened over the years, but he would chip it away to give you his heart. If you were still willing to put up with all of his bullshit.

"Look at me," he said again. Ordering you to... pleading for you to. When you spare him a glance he felt his chest open up. Your lashes clumped together in spikes as you blinked up at him with a look stained with apprehension.

"You think I'm easy," you muttered.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," he said. Toji cupped your chin and tilted your head up. You resisted it stubbornly at first, but he would stay there for as long as it took. When you tipped your head up to him, he kissed the corner of his mouth with all the softness he could muster up. So tenderly he wasn't even sure he touched your skin but you sighed. The tension in your body melted ever so slightly.

"What do I gotta do to make it up to you?" Another kiss on the other side of your mouth. Firmer, needier. He resisted the urge to take your lips fully, but even the corner of your mouth made him ache for you.

You stopped pushing him away. That was a good sign. There was a chance. "I don't know," you mumbled. "I don't know."

"Come on, ma. Tell me what you want."

You looked like you were deciding just how serious Toji was this time. He didn't deserve your patience but you gave it to him anyways. "I want to spend time with you, Toji. And I don't always want it to be after the sunsets but before the sun rises. It's like I'm in a relationship with a ghost. You're holding me now but then you'll leave without a trace." You avereted your eyes. Toji was plunged back in darkness. "I'm getting tired of it all."

"You want me to leave?"

It was unfair of him to push it back on you, he knew that, but he has never played fair in his life. Toji would do whatever you wanted him to... as long as you didn't really want him to leave you. He doesn't think he could at this point. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until you spoke again.

"No. No I don't," you said quietly. You bit your bottom lip and nestled your cheek into his hand. "I miss you so fucking much but you're just gonna do this shit again."

"I'll work something out," he whispered on your lips. You still wanted him. He was selfish, he was greedy, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You moaned, clutching the fabric on his chest as you got swept up in his advances. You had on that lip gloss that he always found amusing, the one that left his lips cool and tingling. He drank you in, leaving no way for you to shy away. He needed you, and for reasons he couldn't understand, you still wanted him too.

"Give me another chance, yeah? You won't regret it."

You had no reason to believe him. You should've kicked him out the second you had the strength to, but you were weak to his advances. Toji knew that, and he used it to his benefit. He kissed your jaw, neck and shoulder. You were obsessed with each other leaving was never going to be easy.

"One last chance."

"That's all I'm asking for."

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[xalygatorx]

A Case of the Slumps | Alastor x Depressed!GN!Reader

Summary: It seems you've brought your brain chemistry down to Hell with you. Figures.

Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, depression and related symptoms/thoughts (obvi), cinnamon roll Charlie, Angel gives you a Xanax but you don't take it, platonic Alastor with a hint of possible unspoken romantic feelings, unexplained cause of death, present tense for some reason, reader is gender neutral

A/N: Crosspost of a recent oneshot from my AO3 because I figured if I'm in a slump, someone else probably is too. x

Sometimes it was a thought. Sometimes it was the time of year or the weather, when Hell's crimson sky was kept dark for long periods of time by an uptick of brimstone in the atmosphere or the lingering storm clouds after an acidic downpour. Sometimes it was a memory. A song. A smell.

Sometimes it was seemingly nothing at all.

Just like when you were alive, your now-dead brain hasn't lost its particular quality of liking to work against itself. It's impossible to say whether it's a continued chemical imbalance—that'd be likely right? If demons can do drugs, then clearly there's still something to brain chemistry in Hell—or if death took a snapshot of your self and your mind as they were in life.

It doesn't really matter what it is either because it still affects you just the same. And because you haven't had a depressive episode yet post-mortem, you haven't done any of the legwork you had to do in life on your own to figure out what's "wrong" with you, who might hear you and listen, and what medication(s) works.

So when it does hit, it hits like a tidal wave no one else can see. The wave itself, anyway—everyone can see you drowning.

That first slump isn't kind enough to hit in the morning when you can sleep in—or rather stare with dead eyes at the wall, bundled under your duvet and blankets as you put off the day passing by around you. No, that first slump hits in the middle of one of Charlie's exercises, one that you were enthusiastic about participating in just an hour ago. What happened?

You know. This feeling is an old friend you'd hoped to never meet again.

Charlie doesn't though, not right away. After you excuse yourself by means of referencing a stomachache you only kind of have—and only from the emptiness pooling in your gut and humming in your chest—she catches up to you in the hallway.

"Hey!" she chirps, leaning around to look at you when you stop but don't turn around. If anything, you curl further into yourself. She doesn't notice though—the only ones who would notice your change are the ones who know to look for it. Charlie, bless her heart, doesn't have that earthly world experience yet. "Do you want us to wait up for you or…?"

"Oh, uh, no," you stammer out, yearning for a big hoodie to comfortably drown in or a cup of tea, the idea of which sounds lovely but you don't even like tea. Everything that would normally feel like a treat sounds stressful or unappetizing, leaving you uncertain about what exactly you're meant to be doing. That's when the lethargy hits hardest. "I don't feel well, so I'm just gonna rest for a while."

Charlie's brow scrunches. You can tell she's about to argue that you'll never get into Heaven if you don't stick to the exercises and something akin to a sudden flash of anger roils in your chest, kicking the dead gray weight of apathy in the teeth. Because how dare she question your commitment, your hopes, your dreams, because you're walking away this one time?

But if this is like life, if this can happen again now, how many more times will it happen? Is it over for you?

Something clicks behind her eyes though as she watches your face. You don't know this, of course, but she's seen the same look on Vaggie's face before. Primarily right after they found each other—Vaggie also fell into a pit of her own pain and trauma, a victim of her new normal until the new normal became preferable.

And, on those days, Vaggie didn't always want to be with Charlie. At some point, Charlie had to learn that it often had nothing to do with her when that happened, too. It helped her understand her father better, too, in the end. She'd needed to reach out to him, but she'd had to let Vaggie come to her when she was ready. Both were valid approaches for different people.

She decides to trust that you'll make it clear to her what you need when you're ready.

"Okay," she says and her kind voice spears your anger with guilt, killing it instantly. You were always good at that, weren't you? Pushing away the people who care. "You have my number. You have everyone's number—well, everyone with a phone anyway. Just let us know if you need something. Anything. Okay?"

You clench your teeth to hold back the burn of tears working its way up your throat. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie," you say and it comes out as sincerely as you mean it, which is good. At least something's gone right today.

"Would you like a hug?" Charlie offers, starting to hold out her arms and then hesitating when she wonders if that could feel like she was pressuring you.

You think about it and decide it's worth a try. "Sure," you say and you step into her arms. She runs even hotter than the other sinners you've met, being Hellborn. It's like cozying up just a couple inches too close to a fireplace, but it doesn't burn. She just feels like the hearth in the place that's swiftly become your home.

She doesn't let go before you're ready, but the second she feels you shift to step back, she lets her arms drop. She gives you a little wave before scampering back down the hall to resume the exercise in the lobby, leaving you to resume your trek to the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator and you've tapped the button for your floor, you fall back against the wall of the lift and run your hands down your face, sighing into your palms.

What you wouldn't give for an on-paper, calculable test that you could fill out and hand to a doctor or psychologist or someone who could tell you with complete certainty what's wrong with your brain and how to fix or endure it. Not only so you could feel better, but so you wouldn't be such a burden to your new friends, your found family. What good were you like this?

(The reality is that the group downstairs is mildly concerned, but otherwise just fine. Charlie can manage the exercise through sheer optimism alone and she has enough bandwidth to do that and be available to you as your friend whenever you need something.

A couple of the others noticed your deflated exit, perhaps because they've once been through similar episodes, and are either just hoping you feel better or trying to come up with some nice gesture to make whenever they see you next. Everything you're worried about or sure you've messed up is a product of your dopamine-deficient brain.)

You pass Angel in the hall on your way to your room as he's heading out for work and he, of course, knows that look. He just hasn't seen it on you before. He offers you a many-armed hug and what he tells you is a Xanax, telling you to text him if you need anything or just want to talk and he'll check on you whenever he's freed from the studio next.

You appreciate his offers and agree to all of it, except the unwrapped, unlabeled pill, which you get rid of once you're in your room. You trust Angel, but you're too paranoid about making whatever you're feeling worse. You barely knew how to deal with it in life, what's it going to be like in Hell?

A stretched-out old hoodie is procured from your closet and you tug it on, smoothing your hair back down as you amble toward the bed. You burrow under the blankets and try to sleep, but of course it doesn't come. You're not tired, after all. You're not even sad. There's just nothing where there's meant to be something, anything in your chest.

Hours pass and, even though you're not helping yourself by lying curled on your side and staring at the wall, you're listless. You can't talk yourself into getting up or getting something to eat. It's even hard to convince yourself to look at your phone, maybe because you've heard it buzz a few times with texts likely asking how you're doing. You don't want to answer them until it's a good answer. Until you can say you're doing better. Anything else is a disappointment, surely, for all involved.

Someone's knuckles rapping against your door makes you jolt, but you sink back into that unsteady feeling of mentally treading water instead of answering. They'll go away if they think you're sleeping. It's probably Charlie anyway, maybe checking on you ahead of dinner. Was it really almost dinnertime?

That was enough to motivate you to extract one arm from beneath the duvet, extend your hand to your phone, and tap the screen to wake it up. It was after dinner. Time was a construct and someone was still at the door, knocking more sharply now.

You bundle your arm back under the bedding, keeping your back to the door. Charlie wasn't that hard of a knocker, so maybe she'd sent Vaggie up to check on you? Husk tended to pound on doors with the side of his fist (and not come near any potentially weepy situation with a ten-foot pole), so it probably wasn't him. It might be Angel, you supposed. Short studio session, if so. Perhaps Pen, but the source of the noise was too high up to be Niffty. She'd barge on in anyway…

"My dear, I can hear you moving around in there, you know," the Radio Demon's voice informs you through the door and your heart nearly stops a second time.

Not Alastor, you sigh inwardly, covering your face in your hands again and trying not to groan lest he hear that, too.

It wasn't that you disliked Alastor. In fact, that wasn't the case at all. You'd been a bit scared of him at first, sure, when you'd initially crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel and who could blame you? He was an imposing figure, someone you'd heard of within days of falling into Hell despite his seven-year sabbatical from the Pentagram.

He was also a prominent public figure from his radio show. That was how you'd first tried to get to know him a little better—you'd started tuning into his broadcasts, getting better at predicting the shrill screams of the souls he tore apart just before they blared through your speakers. You still missed them on occasion and would violently jolt upward from wherever you were sitting or lying while listening, floundering for the volume dial and usually finding it well after you needed it.

Alastor had spotted you do exactly that once during a prerecorded broadcast and, after he'd run the gambit of jokes he could make at your expense, the barrier that had existed between you two since your arrival started to come down. And while the jarring screams hadn't stopped, your radio's volume would inexplicably drop on its own ahead of them from then on. You couldn't come up with any explanation for this that didn't include Alastor's influence, but what may have been a kindness on the Radio Demon's part was directly rivaled by his then-new penchant for bursting out of the speakers in a swirl of shadow to scare you, himself, and ask you for feedback on the day's stories.

Those interruptions had become short bouts of small talk in the hall, a couple of cooperative efforts to cook the crew a delicious dinner, him holding doors for you whenever you happened to be traversing the hotel in the same direction… Little things. Lots of little things that had ended up with you considering him a friend, but who knew how he felt. He probably just thought you were amusing. What made it even worse was that you were beginning to suspect the extra pitter-patter of your heart whenever he showed up was no longer adrenaline anticipating him scaring you, but butterflies.

You poor thing. You weren't sure you could've picked a more surefire way to make a fool of yourself.

"I'm not decent," you finally say in an attempt to deter him, wincing a little at the hoarse quality of your voice. You'd only cried a little during your time in your room that day, but you'd cried hard. Partially in an effort to exorcise some of the bad feelings you were harboring, but it hadn't helped much.

"Well! Under all those blankets, I wouldn't even know, now would I!"

You squeak as you startle so much from hearing his staticky voice right behind your head that you end up in a heap on the floor between the wall and your bed.

By the time you untangle yourself from the duvet and pop your head out of the heap, he's maneuvered himself to the edge of the mattress and is peering over it while lying on his barely existent stomach. A thin, but amused smile curls his lips as his legs idly kick behind him like he's a high school girl at a sleepover.

"Was that necessary?" you ask, any amount of riling up he'd done with his sudden entrance falling away from you as your slump saps it of its vigor in one go.

Alastor's brows rise into his fringe, clearly a little caught off-guard. You can understand why—you usually either laugh or, if he gets you badly enough, clutch your chest and scold him for nearly causing your second death via a heart attack.

He tilts his head at you as his eyes narrow and you can't tell if he's confused or zeroing in on his prey. Honestly, in your current condition, you can't get yourself to care. Maybe he'll put you out of your misery for your cheek.

"Mm, I deemed it so," Alastor says, his luminous red eyes blinking down at you as he leans forward ever-so slightly. He's clearly on edge and you digest this as a display of annoyance, but he's concerned (and doesn't like that he's concerned). He's never seen you like this. "Are you ill, cher? It's quite unlike you to miss dinner."

"In a matter of speaking," you allow as you stand up, brush yourself off, and gather up your duvet into a large wad in your arms. You maneuver it back onto the bed and into a sort of nest you can return to, careful not to jostle or accidentally touch Alastor as he remains partially prone across the foot of the bed and watches you work. Mindful of how little he likely knows about mental health, given his time period, you explain in a few words, "My brain is sick."

He blinks, not sure what to make of what you've said. "Your…brain?" he repeats uncertainly. "How so?" Alastor also deems himself "sick in the head," but he's fairly certain that his brand of insanity isn't what you're referring to in yourself.

You nestle into the duvet, missing how his eyes soften a touch at how small you look right now. You take a deep breath and let it huff out as you force yourself to look at him. If he just wants to torment you a bit, this will expedite him getting it out of his system so you can go back to your staring contest with the wall. If he's not just here to make fun of you…well, then that would be surprising.

"I have depression," you finally admit and you wonder when the last time was that you said those words out loud. Even in life, it was a rare moment when you'd be met with someone who was worth explaining yourself to—most people either didn't understand because they'd never been through it themselves or because they didn't want to understand. Over time, you'd just given up trying to be honest about your struggles because being demeaned or invalidated for them just made you feel worse.

"A what now?" Alastor asks, cocking one brow as he turns to lie on his side with his head propped against one hand. His fluffy ears twitch a little but stay upright, alert, and turned in your direction.

"It's a mood, uh…ailment," you explain, thinking he might not know what a "disorder" is either. You're not familiar enough with what terms people would've used to refer to mental health in his time, so you're overcareful with the words you choose. "My brain chemistry wasn't right in life—my body didn't produce enough of the chemicals that make us feel happy, so I'd get into really bad slumps. Exhausted, sad, sometimes just numb slumps. Apparently that came down here with me, too."

"So…you're in a 'slump'?" he repeats slowly, testing the word you'd used on his tongue.

In moments like this, you find him unbearably cute—from his twitchy ears made restless by the rate of his thoughts to his wide, considering eyes as he tries to absorb what you're telling him. He's a very good listener when he's not in the middle of a bit.

"Yes," you tell him and he relaxes slightly at the confirmation. "I feel dead inside, honestly. Which is funny to say now that I'm actually dead, but it's just… I just don't feel much of anything. Or I do and it just feels empty and hollow. That's kind of worse than feeling sad."

He hums and offers, "A smile is our greatest weapon, dear. We've discussed this."

"Not against this, it's not," you sigh, just waiting now for him to get frustrated or bored with you. "I'm not trying to be difficult, Al, I swear. It's just… I can't fake what I'm feeling. I've tried! I wish I could mask half as well as you can, but it's hard. It takes energy I just don't have in times like this."

Alastor evaluates you with a glance and asks, "Then what is your weapon of choice against these…slumps?"

You tug against the seam of the duvet wrapped around you, all nervous fidgeting. "I never really figured anything out," you admit and it feels like a failure. It feels like because you can't offer him a solution to your problem, your problem must not be a problem. You remember so many exasperated faces looking back at you at times you'd admit the very same. He just looks at you though, clearly thinking. "Sometimes just waiting for it to pass was the answer. I was on medication for it at one point, but it never helped very much. I know I need to eat, but I just feel a bit nauseous when I think about food."

"Then food should be on the docket, certainly, but perhaps not just yet," he muses, sitting up as he continues to regard you. "What else?"

You throw your hands up helplessly. "I'm not sure. I'm sorry," you say. "Maybe I need to go hug Charlie again or something, that didn't fix anything earlier, but it didn't hurt."

Alastor scoffs. "Is my comfort not up to your standards, dear?" he needles you, his tone confident even as his smile wavers slightly.

You blink and shake your head even as you scramble to try and understand what he's implying. "Of course not," you quickly say. "I just… You don't have to do that kind of stuff, you know? I know it's uncomfortable for you and I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

He chuckles and a mischievous smirk overtakes his features as he leans in and pulls you toward him via the duvet, taking an indulgent look at the blush reddening your face before he tightens the blanket cocoon around you and adds his arms to the equation after. You get the hint not to take your arms out and touch him and you're not even sure you could if you wanted to. You're frozen in place, comically close to a deer in headlights, and you can feel the heat inflaming your cheeks.

It's nice to feel something for the moment.

"Um… Alastor?" you ask, stopped from looking up at him when his pointed chin settles against the crown of your head. "You… Why?"

"Why, what?" he asks, but it's just to put off answering and you have some inkling that this might be the case despite his casual tone.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, embarrassed by how vulnerable you sound to yourself.

"I can't have you sat here in one of your 'slumps' by yourself, darling," he mused, one of his hands absently tracing over your back.

It takes a lot for you to not lean into the touch, but you're terrified of scaring him off. You're also terrified of overthinking this though, especially as he settles in around you, his larger body usually used to intimidate and tower over others making you feel oddly safe. Then again, even in his most antagonistic moments with you, have you ever felt in danger?

"Why not?" you ask softly.

"You ask a surprising number of questions over something so simple as this," Alastor notes and his words cause a puff of warm breath to stir your hair. You shiver a little and he chuckles.

"But it's not simple for you," you murmur, letting yourself relax a bit as he impatiently tugs you closer to fit you against his chest. He's certainly not as gentle as Charlie, but you imagine he's far less practiced in this sort of thing than she is. It hits you harder because you know he's trying. And perhaps because you—silly, silly you—have a tragic little crush on the Radio Demon. "And… Well, I appreciate it. That's all."

Alastor hums and admits, "It's simpler than expected. And not unwelcome." You feel his chin shift against your crown, like he might be looking down at you, as he asks, "Is it helpful? Or is dear Charlotte's attention still preferable?"

You have to bite your lips a little to keep from smirking—that sort of tone can only indicate that he's jealous. Once again, you find him unbearably cute and it'll likely one day lead to your second untimely demise once he realizes how you feel.

"Yes, it's helpful. And preferable," you confess and you can almost feel his chest puff with pride. "This is really nice. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," he says, glancing down and watching you cave to fatigue and fall asleep as he feels your weight settle further into his chest.

Alastor chuckles and gives you time to fully settle into a more restful state before he shifts your body around and situates you on your bed. He'd first considered staying, but figures having something for you to eat at the ready when you wake is a better use of his time. At least that's the reason he gives himself to go.

The truth is he can't remember the last time he honest to goodness comforted someone. There's a tickle in the back of his brain, a voice asking if he's losing his edge. Asking if you'll see him now as less than he is, which (in his mind) is a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord and nothing more.

He can't deny though that he's savoring the lingering warmth from your body on his coat. And, as much as he doesn't understand these "slumps" or the depression you referenced, he didn't like seeing you look so sad.

And he supposes if he must occasionally soften his sharp edges a bit to help keep his favorite guest present and smiling, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Southern charm— Lance stroll x fem!Southern!reader

Word count— 966

Fluff

The evening was alive with music and laughter, and the party was in full swing. Lance Stroll hadn’t initially planned on coming, but the energy of the crowd drew him in. As he moved through the room, his attention was caught by a voice – smooth and honeyed, laced with a Southern accent that somehow cut through the noise.

He turned to find you, a Southern belle with a warm smile, laughing with a few friends. You were magnetic, with an effortless charm that was hard to ignore. Lance found himself edging closer, pretending to check his phone as he worked up the nerve to introduce himself.

You noticed him almost immediately, raising an eyebrow as you took in his slightly awkward demeanor and the polite, yet curious smile.

“Didn’t think Canadians knew how to have fun at a party like this,” you teased, raising your glass in a playful salute.

Lance chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “We do… we just don’t have that Southern charm to make it look so easy.”

Your laughter was infectious, and soon you two were deep in conversation. He found himself intrigued not only by your accent but by the way you shared stories with such enthusiasm, your hands gesturing animatedly as you talked. And you, for your part, couldn’t help but be drawn in by his quiet confidence and the way he listened, genuinely interested in every word.

As the night wore on, the crowd began to thin, yet you and Lance remained, chatting about everything and nothing, discovering shared interests and hidden dreams. He realized he didn’t want the night to end, so he asked, “Would you want to get a coffee sometime? Or, if you’re feeling generous, maybe let a Canadian take you out for a Southern meal?”

With a grin, you replied, “I reckon that’s a deal.”

Over the next few weeks, you and Lance grew closer, from coffee dates to long walks, and every time you were together, he found himself falling a little more. And one night, under a sky dotted with stars, he finally admitted what he’d been feeling since that first night.

“So, does this Southern girl think a Canadian’s got a shot with her?”

You laughed, heart fluttering as you looked up at him. “Well, maybe if he’s real nice to me…”

Lance smiled softly at your statement “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a nice guy then huh” he says.

“Yeah I guess it is”

A few weeks after that first night, Lance was becoming a regular at all your favorite spots around town – from the cozy coffee shop on Main Street to the diner you swore had the best biscuits and gravy this side of the Mississippi. Every time, you’d introduce him to something new – a plate he’d never tried or an old country song that would get you swaying in your seat.

He’d tease you about your taste in music, saying it was “way too twangy for a city boy,” but he loved how your eyes lit up when you sang along. And when he joined in – off-key and laughing – you couldn’t help but feel a little more smitten.

One Saturday afternoon, you two decided to spend the day at a local fair. Lance insisted on winning you a prize from the ring toss, missing several times before finally landing a perfect throw. He handed you a slightly lopsided stuffed bear, wearing a proud grin as if he’d just won a major race.

“Not bad for a Canadian, huh?” he said, winking.

“Not bad at all,” you replied, clutching the bear close. The two of you wandered through the fairgrounds, your hands brushing now and then until Lance finally took yours in his, lacing his fingers with yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later, as the sun was setting and the lights of the fairgrounds lit up the night, Lance stopped in his tracks, pulling you close. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at home somewhere I didn’t know,” he admitted softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “Being here with you… it’s different.”

You met his gaze, heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, maybe that’s just the magic of the South,” you teased, though your voice was just as tender. “Or maybe… you’re just where you’re meant to be.”

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss that felt both new and familiar, like coming home. The sounds of laughter and music faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

As fall turned to winter, you and Lance became a fixture in each other’s lives. Friends and family teased you endlessly, claiming he’d gone “Southern” himself, especially after he picked up a few phrases from you, like “y’all” and “fixin’ to.” He’d say it just to make you laugh, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye that had you hooked.

You’d never imagined a world where a Canadian F1 driver would blend so seamlessly with your life, but he did. And more than that – he made every moment brighter, showing you new parts of yourself and a love that was steady and unshakable.

One crisp December evening, wrapped up in blankets on your front porch, he turned to you, expression serious. “I know this started out… unexpected,” he began, his voice soft but steady, “but being with you feels like the only thing that makes sense. And I want it to keep making sense… for a long time.”

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you pulled him closer. “That’s good to hear, Lance Stroll, because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

[strongbabe2907]

Here’s a little review of Zepp Haneda - Dir en grey Who is this hell for tour 2024

In the morning i took a wrong train and almost ended in Yokohama, lmao. In the end i was there around 10:40 and we got the merch tickets.

After that we met up with a few people and had some food. The cafe/bar we went too was blasting Dir all day and played their pvs inside too, it was surreal but very cute.

Visnu brought the art books and it was so cool to see them irl before she put them in the gift box🥰 everyone worked so hard!! Go check out #SilverCoinProject if you haven’t! I’m not an artist i send in some pictures hehe. There’s also a picture in there of my gifts.. maybe i’ll post them later on social media now i have given them.

So we walked around a bit and went to the torii my friend recommended, but they were doing construction work right around it so it was a bit noisy.

When it was time for merch we found out todays sticker was Kaoru!! I hoped a shiny but unfortunately just normal ones. Still cute.

I bought more merch for friends and some standees, did some trading with other japanese fans and some gift exchange 🥰 honestly everyone has been so nice and sweet.

We god dinner before the show and i started to get nervous again.. we split up waiting because we had different numbers and i was very focused on the counting haha.

I had 235 for vip which got me… 6th row maybe? Second barrier in zepp. Which was.. i had hoped for a bit closer but it is what it is.

Again i was between Kaoru and Kyo and looked at them most. Shinya wore his white outfit, Die also wore a white outfit. I think Toshiya was all black? He wore the shorts with something on top and dramatic separate sleeves.

Kaoru looked amazing! He was in all black. Black dress shirt with big collar. Wearing a small, wide black tie. His waistcoat thing and trousers/shorts were the same texture/print. The waistcoat was much more wide/baggy and shorter in the front and longer in the back. I think it had 2 rows of 3 buttons on it. The shorts were just passed his knees and veryy wide with big pockets on the sides. He wore black leggings with them again. Black dr martens and i think socks?

His hair was pulled back in a little ponytail and he had two strands loose in the front. One behind his ear and one just loose. He had the usual make up, little fangs, eyeliner and dark shading especially around his head. He was the only one that didn’t change for the encore.

Kyo wore the same simple outfit. I still couldn’t make out the tat very well, but thought i could discern some points to it.. Visnu later mentioned she thinks it’s either like a little star or a cross?

He wore low black doc martens this time.

His voice was just 💯from the start. They seemed more energetic/relaxed than the first show (which was still really good btw). He did some dancing (god he’s so tiny..) and moved around and took his earpieces out to listen to the crowd sing/shout. Closer to the end he pointed at two people, one right ahead of me. I think one of them had made a tattoo like him and he was smiling? Cute.

Also HELLOOO obscure was so awesome. It was the more recent version which i personally prefer. It was so cool!! And i mentioned this on twitter already but Kaoru didnt do much wahwah but he did grunt along with tsumi no kisei and was doing tough guy act to the crowd and singing along with a song (sorry cant remember which) for a long but, it was really cute. They switched sides once i think. My friends said there was almost a twin towers collision but i didnt see.

After the last song (Eddie), Kyo did a big smile and said ‘bye bye’ and he was off.

Shinya’s drumstick landed right next to my foot but i was busy looking at Kaoru😭😂🙈(he was also throwing stuff). Then girl next to me notices a tiny but before me and bend down to grab it, but it was fine i mosty found it funny i missed it cos i was going 👁️ at Kao.

Everyone but Kyo also threw a tour towel.. maybe shinya didnt? Im not sure. Toshiya was smiling and put his face in it before tossing it in the crowd lol. Kaoru also threw it near the front and Die tied a knot in it again and pitched it to the back of the venue lol.

So good live! Girls around me were lively but i was standing at a bit of a dead area in the crowd?? I liked both citta and zepp even though the vibes were different. (Citta was def more intense)

After the show we got the vip bags! They’re very cute. And now i try and recover a little before heading to Kyoto.

[mc-lukanette]

Taking her talent online, ultimately, had been the way Marinette felt she could play to her strengths without worrying about her weaknesses. Commissions had been helpful as a side job while she made a name for herself, and following that came a proper channel to run and make money off of. She did a little bit of everything, from sewing to designing to color theory and tutorials for how to do it all.

One of the best parts about it was the anonymity of it all, as she could keep her face hidden and no one would question a thing. It meant that no past publicity she had ever gotten as Marinette - particularly those from celebrities - mattered, and she could build herself up based on herself and nothing else.

Not having to talk to people was a bonus. When she did "talk" to others online, it was through instant messaging, and the Marinette who stammered through every word was far less likely to come out when she had to type things out and voluntarily send it afterwards. Even better was knowing that it was harder to be lured in by a pretty face speaking pretty lies when she wasn't face-to-face with them.

It was just about perfect. Sure, she still lived alone as an adult, not having someone to call hers, but she wasn't lonely and she did have someone in a sort of vague way.

I saw your video. That wasn't fair. I was planning on relaxing today and now I can't put my guitar down.

Like she was a schoolgirl all over again, Marinette had to step away from her computer and collapse onto her bed, kicking her legs out and giggling to herself.

She didn't know his name or face, but she'd heard his voice and creative ability. He was another channel like hers, though not a competing one as he made music rather than other creative ventures. From what she'd gathered over their messages to each other, he was like her where he found public fame to be a hassle and preferred being able to simply put himself out there quietly.

Their "relationship" had started with - appropriately - creativity itself. She'd been looking for something to listen to and found herself drawn in by the same faceless presentation that she had as well, going from one of his songs to the next until she'd blown through his entire channel. She got inevitably inspired and made a video where she made a dress based on one of his pieces, which he'd seen and made a video back at her with music piecing together the emotions one of her designs had invoked in him.

She tried not to let herself get carried away, telling herself that he'd done it out of obligation or thanks, but creativity didn't lie. She didn't know anything about music or the details of making it, but she could feel it when she listened to what he'd made: he meant every note he played.

Talking to each other over instant messaging started up from there, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't find it the slightest bit romantic. The videos inspired by each other continued, like love letters to the other's talent, and they weren't shy about praising each other directly through their messages either.

He was the kind of guy she always wished that she'd had in her life: direct while not being overbearing or abrasive. Too often, she'd find herself trying to decipher the vagueness in people's words or question how much she could take out of them. He didn't leave room for that.

He was also, as she'd discovered only a month ago, totally single and lived in New York like she did. The former had been through some idle Q&A while messaging each other, but the latter was what she'd parsed out from some of his music: just enough was taken from landmarks or notable aspects of it that he had to be living there.

She stayed up some nights, dazed with thoughts of how close they might be to each other. Would she walk down the street one day and hear his recognizable style playing from a window he'd accidentally left open? Or had they passed each other on the street dozens of times and hadn't realized? She'd grown content in knowing that her social interaction in her offline life had greatly diminished due to her online job, but it was different with him.

The worst part was that she knew she could just ask him if he felt the same and would get an honest answer. All it took was working up the courage.

Heading back to her computer and looking over his message for the twelfth time, she smiled to herself and typed out her response.

Oh no. I'm forcing you to create more. Now you'll get even more of all the attention you deserve.

Her heart raced even after she'd sent it. He brought out a side of her that was much bolder than she was normally, and she liked it. Sometimes she caught herself twirling a strand of her hair or caring about how she looked as if he could see her and it was almost like a game.

A blush-inducing game.

I know. Terrible. But seriously, you're really something. I didn't know if my message would come through the music when I wrote it, but you caught everything. Either I'm a musical genius, you're a genius music analyst, or both.

She laughed at the idea that she would be some sort of music connoisseur, sampling his tracks like fine wine to determined their meaning.

You're definitely a musical genius. Just don't let it go to your head or you won't be able to find room to hide your face in videos anymore. Besides, you being so humble is one of my favorite things about you.

She hesitated before sending the last message, wondering briefly if she was coming on a little strong. Friends could casually talk about the traits they liked in each other, right?

Assuming they were friends, anyway. She supposed they'd never really put a name on it.

His next reply took a few seconds longer than she would've expected for its length.

It's hard to pick favorite things, but I've always admired how much you try to make everyone happy. You reply to so many comments, you're always listening to them, and I can see how hard you're working to make something entertaining.

He noticed? Well, of course he noticed - it was him - but she rubbed her pink cheeks at the thought that he'd been paying that close attention to her. She couldn't judge or anything as she put just as much effort into keeping an eye on him, but he was a special case.

Did he do that with everyone? Could she afford to ask, maybe with a little "haha" at the beginning to keep it casual?

Before she could start typing out some experimental responses, she noticed that he was typing again and kept still.

I hope you're putting just as much effort into making yourself happy too, whatever your happiness is.

She held back a squeak even though he wasn't there to hear it. The way he'd always worry about her was precious, like when she hadn't posted any videos in a week and he immediately asked if anything was wrong or she needed a break. He was just that kind of person, caring for all people generally but prioritizing those he was close to; it sounded standard, but he would've easily told her to not care in the slightest about her viewers and just be ruthlessly selfish if it was for the sake of her personal happiness.

It reminded her of love interests in stories at times, specifically the ones who would act neutral or cold to all others but treat their special someone extra special.

Swallowing down the feelings in her throat, she focused on responding to him.

Whatever my happiness is? Even if that's a person?

It was a joke more than anything else to lighten the atmosphere she'd caused in her own room. Maybe he'd crack some line about stealing someone away for herself.

Though, looking over the message again, she realized the ways he could take it. She chewed at her bottom lip, wondering how she could deal with it if he told her honestly that he was fine with her going after anyone. It wasn't as if she'd feel like he'd been leading her on, but they'd grown to a level of closeness where she hoped their relationship wasn't strictly friendly.

He finally responded, but she granted that time felt like it was creeping along painfully slowly while she'd waited.

Yeah. Anyone at all.

Her heart sank. So he was fine with anyone, meaning—

Including me.

Heat climbed up Marinette's neck. She stood, so quick that she nearly knocked her chair over, and ran right back to her bed to start punching her pillow. The screech she let out was entirely involuntary, a desperate attempt by her body to get out all of the emotions those two words had given her.

He could've left it at "anyone," which technically included him anyway, but he made sure to single himself out so she would know. Direct, just like she'd always asked for, good for her head and wonderfully bad for her heart. Knowing that he wanted her to pursue anyone at all, even beyond him, for the sake of her own happiness, somehow just made him more attractive.

And she didn't even know what he looked like!

By the time she'd finished beating up the pillow that had done nothing wrong, she frantically ruffled her hair and scratched at her scalp whilst trying to sort her thoughts. She looked like a mess by the end, someone who'd just gotten out of bed, but she didn't care. She knew she couldn't leave him on read, so she hurried back to the computer to reply to him.

She took a long, deep breath before sending it out, thinking to herself, Here we go...

You make me happy.

The heat climbed higher and she covered her face with her hands, rifling through her memories to figure out when she'd gotten so utterly embarrassing. He wouldn't mind, she was sure, and if it really bothered him then he'd probably give her an out so they'd never have to talk about it again.

She hoped he didn't.

The signature notification sound - the plucking of an electric guitar - played twice, alerting her that he'd responded. She peeked through her fingers to read.

You make me happy too. I want to meet you.

"AHH!" she screamed, impulsively slamming her fists into the keyboard. A mess of letters got sent to him as a result, but that about summed up her thoughts more than anything she could've possibly typed out.

He wanted to meet her. She made him happy too. Her heart fluttered fast and pleasantly in a way that only he could cause, even with the anxiety that came with that. She still wasn't good at offline socializing, and instant messaging had been all of their interactions barring videos they made for each other. What if her full self put him off?

Another two messages popped up.

I couldn't stop myself from saying that. There's no pressure if you don't want to meet up. You can just tell me honestly how you feel. You won't upset me, I promise.

Honestly? She shut her eyes for a moment in an effort to calm herself. The fact that even he - whose relaxed voice never raised once in any of his videos - couldn't help impulsively messaging for a meet up was promising, so she couldn't dare give up the opportunity.

She just couldn't, and she forced herself to type her honest opinion on the matter.

I want to meet you too.

It wasn't directly a promise to see each other, she reminded herself. They didn't set a time or place, even though they shared a state and timezone so it wouldn't have been that difficult to plan. Their shared careers meant that they could easily match each other's schedules, but nothing had to be set in stone right then.

Yet, in all her conflicting emotions, she looked forward to the mere idea.

[alwayssassydreamer]

7 Minutes In Hell

A/N: a friend and i were stuck for what felt like an eternity in traffic and while listening to different songs we came up with the idea to match different OP characters to the songs and well this is the first one to go.

When you kiss me, I can feel fire within me Heaven's got me burning Touch me Bringing me down to my knees Love the taste of sinning You got me playing seven minutes in hell

Warnings: none really, kissing if you want

Characters: Law x GnReader

The dim glow of the Polar Tang’s lights cast shadows across the room, but nothing could compare to the heat burning between you and Law.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unreadable, yet there was something there—something raw, magnetic, and dangerous. The space between you was nonexistent now, his hands resting on your waist, firm and unyielding.

When his lips crashed against yours, it felt like fire—an inferno starting deep inside, consuming every thought, every breath. When you kiss me, I can feel fire within me. The words echoed in your head, your body responding instinctively as his mouth claimed yours. Each kiss burned hotter than the last, his touch igniting sparks that made your knees weak.

You broke apart, gasping for air, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"Law," you whispered, his name a plea, a confession.

But he wasn’t finished. His lips trailed down your neck, searing a path that left you trembling. Heaven’s got me burning, you thought, feeling like you’d burst from the sheer intensity of his touch.

“You look like you’re about to fall apart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low, dark, and wicked.

There was a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers slid along your jaw, tilting your face toward his.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little fire?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, breathless, but the smirk you gave him only fueled the flames between you.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Touch me,” you whispered, the words barely audible, but he heard.

His hand moved to your back, his fingers brushing against your skin, and you swore you could feel the world crumble around you. His lips captured yours again, rougher this time, his kiss sending you spiraling.

Your knees gave out, and you found yourself clutching him for balance, your body completely at his mercy. Bring me down to my knees, the thought struck, and you let it consume you.

Law’s smirk widened, sensing your surrender, his fingers teasing along your spine, sending chills that contrasted with the heat blazing between you.

“You’re dangerous, Trafalgar Law,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need as his eyes bore into yours, dark and full of unspoken promises.

“This… this feels like sin.”

His lips twitched in amusement, but there was something predatory in his gaze.

“Love the taste of sinning?” he drawled, his voice like a challenge. “Good. Because you’re not getting out of this.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, but no less intense. The fire inside you roared to life, consuming everything. You felt like you were playing with the devil himself, and it was exhilarating.

“You’ve got me playing seven minutes in hell,” you murmured against his lips, breathless and overwhelmed.He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your back.

“Seven minutes? I think we can do better than that,” he whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine.

And as the heat between you threatened to burn everything down, you realized you didn’t care. Heaven could burn, the world could crumble, but right here, with him, was where you wanted to be. In the fire, in the sin, with no way out.

[c0zy-fluff]

Guys, I can't stop thinking bout GoldenThunder pls help-

And with the help of an angsty song I literally just started listening to after 2 years it released, the brainrot's only gotten worse.

Aight, here's my angsty GoldenThunder idea:

There's mutual feelings between the two, but they both think the other doesn't think the same.

With Simon:

Simon would think that Poe is the least likely out of all of the critters who would be wanting to get into a relationship. He also thinks that saying the words 'Will you go out with me?' will only make the crow/raven feel repulsed and disgusted with such an idea of getting into a relationship. It completely eats him up inside at the thought of the raven/crow rejecting him. But more so with ruining their developed friendship by asking them out to throw everything out the window and the thought of the raven/crow never wanting to see him again after the question. A part of the dragon wants to stop falling for the raven/crow to save their newly-found friendship, but feels he can't because his feelings have greatly grown strong for them. Simon feels he wants a relationship with Poe, but he just thinks he won't be able to ever get it.

Meanwhile with Poe:

Poe thinks that Simon could do so much better than them. There could probably be a critter who's as snobby, rich, AND popular as Simon for him to fall head over heels for than just an emo, edgy outcast. I mean, them and a popular kid dating? That's stupid, right? Right...? Why would a critter as popular as Simon want to go out with an outcast such as Poe? Oh, they could only think of the weird and millions of beady eyes on them when critters would have to see the two going out together and gossiping about why would Simon want to settle for a raven/crow that is beyond outcast status. They want to stop falling for Simon, but those feelings are too strong for them to handle. A part of them wants these feelings to stop, yet they can't help but feel more relaxed when the dragon is with them, and it feels...nice. Okay, more than nice. However, they can't seem to shake the gut-punching feelings of being publicly humiliated for being in a relationship with someone they don't deserve to have.

This is the song that inspired me to make this angsty idea:

[WIP which I prob won't finish]

Also yes, the lyrics in this specifically come from that song I mentioned from above :3

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! THE ANGST IS NOW STARTING TO KILL ME,, I LOVE THESE TWO SMMMM W/ THE FLUFFY SCENARIOS,,, BUT I ALSO WANNA SEE SOME ANGST AS WELL,,,, RAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T DECIDE XHCIFIGKGUDTSJFKGISUSKGJAUDJFJJFGASQEEHTKYHWDQDWJTKYKRGSDWGEUEJRGQFWHSHRHEBDBFJTJRS

[monowritestoomuch]

How To Piss Off The Gods 101

Chapter 1: A Day Spent Well

Notes: No this is not historically accurate con-wise. I got lazy. I’ve been a bit less busy lately, but that doesn’t mean I’m even remotely free of the busyness of life. So here you go, the starting chapter. I’ve already started on the second chapter, so it should be out in the next week. Regardless, enjoy this while I attempt to work on my other requests.

Chapters: Chapter 1,

WORD COUNT: 786

It was early May twenty-twenty-three, a bit early for a comic con, but enjoyable nonetheless. Jorge was walking around the San Francisco Comic Con floor, waiting for Talia, his lovely girlfriend, whilst she used the bathroom. 

He surveyed the floor, eyes flitting to each and every stand. Every single one seemed to pique his interest, promising himself that he’d visit as many as he could. 

He was scrolling through Instagram, reading through Epic posts he’d been tagged in or were just there, humming to the tune of Puppeteer. It was one of his best works in his opinion, so far at least. 

The voices of the con were just regular con chatter until two voices split through the drowned out sound. Jorge looked up to see a young couple holding hands and grinning, seemingly to be college students. The younger man had dark hair, pale skin and eyes so sea green, Jorge thought he was looking through seaglass. The young woman had tanned skin with blonde hair, held up in a ponytail, crisp grey eyes peeking through the thicker strands of hair, like he was looking through a grey storm-cloud. They had matching grey streaks in their hair and the guy was drinking some sort of blue slurry, before clutching his head as the girl laughed.

“That’s what you get for drinking too fast, seaweed brain,” she laughed as the young man pouted. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty, wise girl, last I checked, you’d burned your tongue on that extra large pretzel!” he shot back, clutching his head. The girl rolled her eyes, continuing to walk ahead of her partner a few paces before she paused and turned to Jorge, who had looked up briefly, still humming puppeteer, before going back to scrolling through Instagram and listening into the conversation. 

Her eyes scanned over Jorge briefly, before her eyes went wide. 

“Hello?” Jorge asked inquisitively. “Do you-uh-do you need something?” he questioned. 

At that point the young man had stopped clutching his head in a brain-freeze pain and looked in the same direction as his partner. 

“I knew I recognized that song!” she exclaimed, turning to her partner, who seemed incredibly confused. “Do you remember a few weeks ago, when you found that musical about the Odyssey on spotify?” she asked him, before turning back to Jorge. “I didn’t expect to find anyone else who knew the musical here, it isn’t as well known as it should be.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say that,” Jorge responded, scratching the back of his neck and awkwardly laughing. 

The young ravenette man snapped his fingers, realization etching his features. “Oh that musical! I remember listening to that a few weeks ago! What was it, the Troy saga?” he paused, grinning, seeming embarrassed. “If I’m honest, ‘Just A Man’ almost made me shed a few tears.” He laughed. 

“Didn’t know I’d find others with an interest,” Jorge laughed, standing up from the bench he was sat on. “Jorge,” he greeted, holding his hand out to shake. 

The ravenette guy shook his hand first. “Percy,” he greeted in return with a smile. “And this is my girlfriend-”

“Annabeth,” the blonde-haired woman greeted, shaking Jorge’s hand after Percy did. 

“So what’s your favorite song?” Jorge asked, causing the young couple to start talking simultaneously about the musical.

It was only a few minutes later when Tayla walked out of the woman’s restroom, finding her boyfriend speaking to a young couple with a wide, mischievous smile wrapped on his face. 

Tayla walked up to her boyfriend, introducing herself and immediately being brought into the conversation with a few handshakes and an argument on whether Just A Man or Ruthlessness was better. She cast her vote for Ruthlessness and the two couples hit it off, exchanging numbers with each other.

It was only later that Percy and Annabeth learned that Talya was the voice of Circe after Percy pointed out how similar they sounded. They’d also learned that Jorge voiced Odysseus, meaning he was the creator of the musical.

By the gods, their luck was either spectacular or terrible. In this case, Tyche seemed to be on their side. 

Annabeth knew that the musical was inaccurate, and that it would continue to be, as did Percy. But Percy had an idea. Gods forbid the gods were to actually find this, but as long as Percy was still alive and ‘Persassy’ as Leo called him, he would make this musical hilarious. 

It seemed Annabeth agreed to go along with the plan, not entirely agreeing with the portrayal of her mother, but who did seem genuinely interested in helping out Jorge and Tayla. 

Plus, the camp had just begun to find the musical.

Chapters: Chapter 1

Taglist:

@the-beloved-genloss-niki

(Let me know if you’d like to be added)

[shesadollette]

❝ K-Idol!Horangi ❞

Note: So… as some of you guys may or may not have known, Horangi got into debt with a local crime boss when he was a compulsive gambler and had to flee his home and join the local military before his arc started as the “Horangi” we know now (taken from the official wiki fandom page). Now here, I’d like to expand and dive deeper on his double life as both a military contractor and an underground indie artist within the timeframe of his life.

𖧧 He’d be a soloist. A rapper to be specific.

𖧧 Picture the vibes of BewhY, Big Matthew from KARD, Felix from Stray Kids, Agust D, and so forth.

𖧧 He gives off those ruggish downtown boy vibes that’s usually known and could be told apart for the visuals, music style/aesthetic, and unique range.

𖧧 His fondness of implementing cultural elements whether lyric or beat-wise with modern music is quite conspicuous. He finds adding sounds of traditional Korean instrumentals in his beats and to add references of his hometown in his lyrics to be endearing and an integral part of who he is.

𖧧 He’s quite a small artist and a private one at that. Only wishing for his listeners to see him for his art and not as who he really is outside of that.

𖧧 (I’m still kinda unsure what his stage name should be. Should it be “Horangi” too? Or should he want to use another name instead?)

𖧧 His music journey started when he wanted to make some money while being caught in the deep end.

𖧧 When he had first started out, he found it overwhelming and impossible to put his voice out there within the voices of many groups and soloists already making it big.

𖧧 Horangi being Horangi, he pushed through the waters anyway and dared to publish his first practice beats on SoundCloud, not expecting much anyway.

𖧧 A first then became a second. A second merged into a third. It took the fellow a good while to finally include vocals into some of his songs as well as gaining a few listeners along the way.

𖧧 All this he did as a side hustle while planning to enlist in the Republic of Korea Armed Forces to flee from his home, his family, and the anticipating creditors.

𖧧 Timeskip to when he finally found himself and his life’s purpose as the current Horangi.

𖧧 Not long after, he joined KorTac as a contractor. That is when he met König.

𖧧 The two couldn’t really interact much. Or rather, wouldn’t. With König already having social anxiety and Horangi determined to succeed on his job, they could merely greet and uplift one another like ordinary teammates would.

𖧧 Such was the norm until one day…

𖧧 “Man, today’s been a blast! A blast yet exhausting day. An exhaustingly blasting day? Anyway, König, what do you usually do to wind down, big guy?”

𖧧 “Hm… I usually listen to some music.”

𖧧 “Oh really? What kind?”

𖧧 “Uh… metal and rock I suppose…?”

𖧧 “Ah, I see I see…”

𖧧 *Gets flashbacks to his early days when he first started on his music journey*

𖧧 “You know, funnily enough, I just remembered that I used to make music before enlisting in the military.”

𖧧 “Oh yeah?”

𖧧 “Yeah. It was nothing much. Just um… a side hustle, if you would call it. I wasn’t like a big artist or anything, just a small one. An indie artist if you will.”

𖧧 “I see…”

𖧧 Horangi then endeavored to log into his old SoundCloud account… only to discover that he had around hundreds of monthly listeners and each of his few songs getting hundreds and if lucky, then a thousand plays.

𖧧 Not completely a 180° to when he first started his journey, but it was more than he had expected since the beginning of his career.

𖧧 He then endeavored to get back to making music during his time off, doing market research to find out what the listeners wanted, exploring alternative music genres, mashing up beats, expanding his vocal range, you name it, he was genuine and actively getting into it.

𖧧 Eventually, he became more confident in putting himself out there, and started posting his music on other platforms, building up his portfolio.

𖧧 And that’s when he began gaining recognition. He remembers the time he got his first comment leading up to his first fan mail.

𖧧 Then there’s König.

𖧧 Horangi endeavored to bring it up again one day, “Yo man, remember that one time I mentioned that I was an indie artist?”

𖧧 “Uh… kind of? Why?”

𖧧 “So you see… I’ve kind of gotten a little group of fans but, no labels have offered me to sign with them yet but could you imagine mate? I’ve got uh… what do they call it again? A ‘fandom’, so to speak?”

𖧧 “Uh-huh? And where are you going with this?”

𖧧 “All I’m saying is that I’m kind of famous now,” he grinned behind his mask. “You could um, probably give it a listen sometime, yeah? If you want, no pressure of course man.”

𖧧 “No guarantees though.”

𖧧 Yet he found himself going through pages dedicated by Horangi’s fans during his time off, his interest won over the fandom he had stumbled upon calling themselves FIERCE.

𖧧 He may had also given his music a chance. Perhaps once. Perhaps even twice. Perhaps he had lost count. Perhaps in his personal life outside the military grounds. Perhaps he had found himself unconsciously playing his music in the background while getting lost in his hobbies.

𖧧 Maybe, just maybe… Horangi may have reached an integral part of somebody’s life through his voice.

guys, imagine an AU where horangi is actually a kpop idol as a side hustle other than his military job……….🧍‍♀️(if somebody ever picks up this idea pls make it a korangi ship AU too? 👉👈)

[eggmeralda]

.

[shhroomer]

Oh, help me God, this hellboy got me coming back for more

reblogs super appreciated !!! close-ups under the cut !

[lukolabrainrot]

Nicola's Easter Eggs from This Weekend/Week (and What it Could All Mean)

First, I am going to list the most important pieces of information (imo) that N posted on her IG grid or stories this weekend/week (and I will put the date it was posted- I'm on PST so some of these MIGHT have been posted on a different date for N):

Posted on N's stories on Friday, 8/9/24

Posted on N's grid on Saturday, 8/10/24

Posted on N's stories on Sunday, 8/11/24

This song was posted on N's stories on Tuesday, 8/13/24

Also, I want to stress I've been DEEP in delulu this weekend/week over all this because it's made me soo excited, but I analyzed the figure in the sunglasses from her milk tshirt pic for such a long time last night, and I swear... I am like 98% certain I see L's VERY distinct tattoo on the person in the sunglasses (and it's totally in the correct placement). I'll put the pic below. It helps if you zoom in a little bit. And after the song that she posted today, I am 99% certain at this point that L took that photo of her in the tshirt 😭😭😭 I could be wrong about the tattoo lol, BUT I still am almost certain that's him based on the arms!

What Could This All Mean??

I feel like we all have seen the theories at this point around all of these posts/stories, and the MANY Easter Eggs they all contain regarding L OR certain people adjacent to L. Therefore, I am not going to talk about all of the Easter Eggs and what they might be implying. This is what I will say:

If all of this content had not been released publicly in such a short period of time, I don't think I would really have paid that much attention to it, or have been THIS excited. However, it is precisely because N (who is VERY intentional on SM) posted ALL OF THIS in such a short period of time, knowing very well how the fandom would be interpreting it and leaving TONS of Easter Eggs that she's with L, that makes me fairly confident that there has been a VERY positive shift between L/N.

Could I be wrong? Yes. However, the song that she posted today (which I have ALWAYS loved btw 😍), clarified to me that everything she has posted since Friday wasn't just random. That song is a BIG statement! We know that N communicates through music, and this song's lyrics don't leave a lot to interpretation. It is a very sweet and happy love song! Now, could this song be about someone else, or could she just have liked the song and wanted to post it? Yes. But after EVERYTHING she posted on IG since Friday, NOBODY can convince me this song isn't about L!

I don't know what this EXACTLY means right now BTS for ALL parties involved in this situation. However, if L was going to officially acknowledge A as his girlfriend in the near future, would N have posted all of this content in such a short period of time that is very obviously related to L in the fandom? Absolutely not. I think (and a LOT all people might not agree with me on this) that this was an official acknowledgment to the fandom, specifically, that her and L are together currently and happily in love 😭😭😭 I still feel like the situation is probably a little complicated BTS, but something in my gut, based on all this public content the last few days from N, makes me feel like something BIG has changed between her and L, and N therefore feels more comfortable and confident with sharing this type of content with the fandom (and the public). I don't believe that we will get a lot of this type of content from L for a while (for LOTS of different reasons that I think are totally understandable), BUT we might get a couple of little crumbs from him (I'm thinking maybeee through songs). I also don't think they are in any place yet to go officially public, but I DO think that N will continue posting content like this if my theories are true 👀 I also feel like they may make a public announcement sooner than we expected based off of everything from the last couple of days. I have said this before, but I believe that both L/N are aware that this relationship would get serious pretty quickly if they were able to get on the same page. And I think they have 😭😍

Does this mean that L/A are done? I think so. Will we still see some material from A related to L? Maybe. I wouldn't rule that out. I get the sense though, and I have been feeling like this for a while, that L/A really haven't been doing that well in their relationship for a long time based on all the evidence that we now have.

A lot of people might not agree with all of my thoughts here, but I feel pretty confident that the song N posted today is a statement to the public, particularly the fandom, about her feelings currently for L. And it just makes my heart really happy 😍😍😍

[spinninglightning]

whenever i read fics i always end up thinkin of a song for the fic or like, th chapter and then i canr stop associating the fic w/ those songs

[lzrdprsn]

It's really weird when you know someone in a context different from how everybody else knows them so you look at them and you still kind of see that person they used to be

[voiceshearingyouloud]

My singing :)