#but especially coming from him who’s from socal

[unmanageably]

i love klay talking about the bay lol. i just love how openly he’s chosen to make this place his home and build roots and connection and community

[avatar-anna]

Idk if you like this concept but i can't stop thinking about harry with swiftie y/n who always sings London Boy to him. And likes to tease him about the fact that he dated Taylor

swiftie!y/n by @harrysfolklore is superior, but i did my best!

(also, i know london boy isn't actually about harry, he's just being a tease)

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“Hello everyone. My name is Y/n Y/l/n, but only because my boyfriend hasn't proposed to me yet.”

In the dim lighting, you could just make out Harry's figure at the back of the bar, where he promptly flipped you off. Laughing a bit, you continued.

“He told me we weren’t going home tonight until I got up here and performed, and while you are all a lovely bunch, I fear I am growing a little tired, so here I am.”

You and Harry were spending some time in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. He'd just come off his first solo tour, and you both thought it would be nice to get away for a little while. He liked Japan, and you had never been, so it was perfect.

In the few weeks of being in Japan, you and Harry frequented a couple of places, one of which was a karaoke bar a few blocks from the apartment you were staying at. It was all locals and the two of you, but everyone was welcoming, especially when Harry started doing rounds of sake and getting on the small stage to perform here and there. You were content to watch, though Harry tried multiple times to get you to at the very least join him. And now that it was nearing the end of your stay, he was pressing a little harder.

So now you were on the stage with a microphone in your hand, trying not to look at anyone for too long.

“You got this, babe!” Harry shouted from his seat, resting his fingers in his mouth to blow a sharp whistle.

“Thank you,” you said. “This song goes out to my boyfriend, my London boy. And Taylor Swift, who I am forever grateful to for breaking up with my boyfriend so that I could have him one day, and I hope she'll follow me on Instagram one day so we can become best friends and dress up as Charlie’s Angels together for Halloween.”

You weren’t typically the kind of person that over shared, but it took a good amount of alcohol to get a microphone in your hands, and you tended to share a little too much about yourself when you were drunk.

Harry gave you a thumbs up as the music started, and since you called Taylor Swift “mother” on a regular basis, you didn't really need the words on the screen to help you along.

“We can go drivin' in, on my scooter. Uh, you know, just riding in London. Alright. I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal. And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey...”

It was safe to say that you loved Taylor Swift. You grew up with her music, each album speaking to the different phases of your life as you went through them. Her music, her lyrics, the stories she told...you just understood all of it, you felt understood by her songs.

Meeting Harry, falling in love with him, it was all chance. He came into the clothing store you worked at, and you only recognized him as the guy from that boy band who dated Taylor Swift (which you did not tell him until much, much later). But he took you by surprise. His hair was long and his smile was shy but kind, and instead of talking about clothing suggestions like you were paid to do, he asked about you, and you asked about him, and instead of walking out with shopping bags, he left with your number, and the rest was history.

You never really expected to fall in love with Harry. Honestly, you thought he would forget about asking for your number. But he texted you a couple hours after you met, and you stayed up almost all night talking about whatever popped into your heads. He made his interest in you quite obvious, so there was never a period where friendship became more, but you still considered him your best friend. You were just two young people in love and experiencing the world together, and you wouldn't have wanted anyone else by your side.

Harry knew now what a fan of Taylor Swift you were, courtesy of a night where you had a little too much to drink and accidentally showed him a picture of a teenage you dressed in a “You Belong With Me” costume at one of her concerts.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“So, you’re a fan, are you?” he asked.

“That might be an understatement,” you told him, crawling into his lap. “You should know, if I believed in hall passes...”

Harry bursted out laughing, throwing his head back as you giggled with him. You thought he might be put off by your love for your favorite artist, but when he sobered up, he kissed the top of your head and said, “Noted. I’m very thankful that you don't believe in hall passes then.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile. Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you...”

You were no performer, but you did your best, skipping between tables and trying your hardest not to sound horrible. You tried not to look at Harry too, because you knew he would be smiling no matter how good or bad you were, and you needed to make it through the song without getting flustered.

However, as the song came to a close, you went over to where he was and planted yourself on his lap, singing the last few lines just to him.

You could tell he was a little drunk too. His green eyes hooded as he smiled down at you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and his grip on your waist made it hard to focus, but you managed to make it to the end of the song before kissing him.

His lips tasted like alcohol and the lip balm he kept in his pocket at all times. You held the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples as the patrons of the bar applauded your big finale. Eventually you pulled away to give the microphone back to the person in charge of the karaoke machine, but Harry didn't let you get far, his arms circling around your waist and holding you close.

“Let’s go home,” he mumbled as the next person got ready to perform.

“Can we grab something to eat on the way back? That left me starving. I don't know how Taylor does it.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up from his seat, leaving a couple bills on the bar before taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the chilly night air. “I perform too, you know.”

“I know, but she has these huge dance numbers too. It must be exhausting.”

“Are you saying I need dance numbers in my performances now?” he asked, but he knew you were joking around. He was a close second in your list of favorite artists, and he was well aware of that.

You shook your head, shivering a little as the wind picked up. Harry pulled you close, resting an arm over your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you walked, pressing your cheek against his chest and savoring the warmth emanating from him.

You were both quiet as you walked down the street, content to just be next to each other. Until,

“You know I’m not from London, though, right?”

“Oh, I know. But Holmes Chapel boy doesn't have the same ring to it!”

Harry leaned down to brush his lips against yours. It was short and sweet and perfect, his most nudging yours as he pulled back just a little. “You’re right. I’ll have to give her a ring about that.”

“You have her number?”

[bellafemme]

Billboard interview.

Why Lana Del Rey Is Opening Up About Her Family on ‘Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd’

There is, in fact, a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard. Though a few online spectators suspected the tunnel, which inspired the name of Lana Del Rey’s album Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, out March 24, might be located in Myrtle Beach, S.C., Del Rey recently revealed that the underground tunnel is actually in Long Beach, Calif. — not far from Los Angeles, where Del Rey has lived for the last six years.

The singer-songwriter’s use of SoCal iconography has been a cornerstone of her songwriting for over a decade, from Born To Die’s (2012) depictions to old Hollywood glamor to Norman Fucking Rockwell’s (2019) allusions to Venice Beach. While it’s present on her new project as well, Del Rey admits she is not quite as focused on “world building” as she once was, and instead is “living from the neck up,” focusing her craft on more lyrically driven and intimate songwriting.

Del Rey’s Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd discusses unrevealed details and stories about her “family of origin,” especially in songs like “Fingertips,” which she says “tells everything about everyone from day one.” Just weeks before its release, Del Rey – who is Billboard’s 2023 Women in Music Visionary honoree — talks about creating the album in her living room, and why she is ready to talk about her family.

How did your new album begin to take shape?

Mike Hermosa, who produced the majority of the songs on this album, would come over to my house, and I would hear him in my living room playing piano. He’s not even a musician full time. He’s a DP, a cameraman. I would hear him play, and I’d be like “can I record that?” or I’d sneakily record something. Eventually I asked if he could just keep playing, and I could sing. Then, every Sunday when he wasn’t working, he would just kind of noodle around, and I would sing. That’s how we wrote the first song: “Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd.” I knew right away that I really, really liked it. I enjoyed how casual writing with Mike was. He didn’t have a dog in the race. He wasn’t interested in anything beyond just playing. It’s fun that the entire album didn’t feel like we were making one until the end when Jack Antonoff came in and was like “I really like this. Can I put something on top of this?” When Jack comes in, you know you’re making a real record.

Do you feel this casual approach to songwriting was able to open you up creatively?

This process was almost like automatic singing. I just knew exactly every word to sing for everything he played because the chords were perfectly arranged. I think my overall feeling when writing this album was just, “wow, I got lucky.” Also, I realized that, even when I’m seeking so many other things in my life, music really seeks me. It’s like a little bird following me around. Somehow when I didn’t want to make music, I was presented with the best collaborators I’ve met. I just had them in my living room. I realized music is the one thing that constantly shows up for me, even when I’m looking for something else.

Since you were singing so automatically, as you put it, did you go back and edit, or did you leave it as is?

There was a lot of editing, because it was mostly a stream of consciousness, but every now and then I’ll have a complete song come to me fully formed. The song “Fingertips” I created in one sitting, voice memoed it, and sent it to [the producer and composer] Drew Erickson. He came back to me the next day with a full orchestra. Again, I just felt so lucky: lucky for the songs, lucky for these producers, lucky for the project.

You have Jack Antonoff coming back on this record. He’s worked on so many major albums in the last five years, including two of your own (Norman Fucking Rockwell and Chemtrails Over the Country Club). As someone who has worked with him so often, what’s his secret? Why does everyone want to work with him?

He can play anything on any instrument. He can fit the right instruments and melodies to any idea you’ve had. I think he plays something like 16 instruments. For us, it’s definitely very collaborative. I think probably out of any projects he’s worked on, he would say I give him the most direction. It’s funny because I recently heard all of his records he made from when he was in high school, and I still hear so much of what he’s done on Taylor [Swift]’s new record from that high school record. He’s just prolific. It’s absolutely wild to watch. That’s why it’s so fun because you really get to create any sound with him. He’s also a girl’s guy. He gets it!

He’s also a featured artist on the album too. How did that come about?

I was done with the album, and he came in for a couple days. We sat there, and I said, “let’s just play the piano.” I can make a song out of anything Jack plays. That’s actually how Norman got started too. He just plays and I just sing. He started playing something and then I was thinking about his fiancée [Margaret Qualley] who I just can’t live without! I love her. I started singing “he met Margaret on a rooftop / she was wearing white / and he was like / ‘I might be in trouble.’” I asked him what he thought we should say in the second verse because with him and Margaret it was a “when you know you know” situation. He had the idea to sing about what you should do when you don’t know. He started singing, and I told him he should just sing it on the record. It was really fun.

What overall themes did you try to capture in this record?

Family of origin is the overall theme. I think with Blue Banisters I wanted to capture this idea too, but I flew it under the radar. I was trying to address some criticisms that I had heard said after Chemtrials… mostly that people don’t know much about me. I didn’t promote that theme of Blue Banisters at all intentionally. In this album, I got to really finish my thoughts and get super specific, which I was not comfortable with completely before… I do list my grandpa, my brother, my dad, my Uncle Dave. In the song “Fingertips,” I sing “Charlie stop smoking / Caroline will you be with me / will the baby be alright? / Will I have one of mine?” I think I was able to open up about this because Mike was so casual to work with. All in my living room. It allowed for that. “Fingertips” tells everything about everyone from day one until now.

Are you nervous about being so forthcoming about your family in this record?

I was. I was so uncomfortable. Then, by the grace of God, I felt completely unburdened.

Your father, Rob Grant, is releasing an album on Decca Records on June 9, and you’ll be featured on two songs. Has he always been musical?

My dad has always played piano and he sang when he was younger with my uncle who’s a traveling organ player for Emmylou Harris and Buddy Guy. They wrote country records back in the day. I don’t know how and when it came to him. But I think he just decided he wanted to record it. And [my manager] played it for Decca Records, and they loved it. I’m not talkative when it comes to myself, but you will learn so much about me in hearing him. It gives so much context to the family.

How Lana Del Rey Became ‘Completely Unburdened’ For Her Most Personal Material Yet

Lana Del Rey practices "automatic singing." Using the improvisational songwriting technique, she lets her voice carry over accompaniments, not commandeering where her words or melodies take her, accepting all ideas she has in the moment and editing them later. Lately, her voice has led her home, back to memories of her childhood in Lake Placid, N.Y., and to ruminations on relationships with her family and the divergent paths they’ve taken. That subject underpins her upcoming ninth album, Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd (out March 24). Del Rey, 37, says she hesitantly began to unpack this subject matter with her previous album, Blue Banisters — but now, she’s ready to dig deeper. “At first I was so uncomfortable,” she says of the more personal material. “Then, by the grace of God, I just felt completely unburdened.” As a singer-songwriter, this year’s Visionary honoree has embodied that word for over a decade. Her 2012 major-label debut, Born To Die, made her a star and defined music’s Tumblr era, as a young Del Rey toyed with both the romantic and the darker sides of the American dream. Her “world building,” as she calls it now, for her early work created a collage of beautiful and disparate images, pairing hip-hop aesthetics with references to the Kennedy family, Elvis Presley with John Wayne, and old Hollywood glamour with biker gang grit.

Since then, Del Rey has pushed musical boundaries — seamlessly peppering an album with features from Stevie Nicks to Playboi Carti (2017’s Lust for Life), reworking a Sublime cover into a contemporary Billboard Hot 100 hit (2019’s “Doin’ Time”), for instance — while achieving both critical acclaim and commercial success. She has earned six Grammy nominations and holds the record for most No. 1s on Billboard’s Alternative Albums chart. And somehow, each week, it seems a new song from her vast catalog gains traction on TikTok. (“West Coast” and “How To Disappear” are two recent breakouts.) Younger artists often cite her as an inspiration — including Billie Eilish, whom Del Rey now calls “my girl. It makes me feel comforted that music is going in such a good direction.”

Since 2019, you’ve released four albums. Is it fair to say you have more creative energy than ever?

I think it might look like that! It’s funny because I keep telling people, “I haven’t worked in three years,” but really I just haven’t done shows in three years. As soon as I start getting ready for a show, that’s when it feels like work.

How has your process changed since Born To Die came out?

Eleven years ago I wanted it to be so good. Now, I just sing exactly what I’m thinking. I’m thinking a little less big and bombastic. Maybe at some point I can have fun creating a world again, but right now, I would say there’s no world building. This music is about thought processing. It’s very, very wordy. I’m definitely living from the neck up.

Can you remember what it felt like creatively when you were just starting out?

I think back to the beginning, being in New York. I would just go to a little deli by Grand Central and all you had to do to sit at the table for hours was buy a black coffee. I remember thinking, “I’m doing it. I’m living it.” It was all very thrilling. I was so psyched back then.

You recently featured on Taylor Swift’s “Snow on the Beach.” What was collaborating with her like?

Well, first of all, I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted. My job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song. I thought it was nice to be able to bridge that world, since Jack [Antonoff] and I work together and so do Jack and Taylor.

Who do you consider to be a visionary?

Joan Baez. I sang with her recently. She gave me a challenge: She said, “Go down a little road and look for a left turn and find my house [in Northern California]. If you find it and can play ‘Diamonds and Rust’s’ high harmony, I’ll come to Berkeley with you and sing.” So my sister and I rented a car and searched for the house. I was very nervous. I don’t play guitar that well, but I learned the first three chords and sat across from her, [and when] we stopped playing, she was like, “Great, I’ll see you at Berkeley.” And another visionary to me is Cat Power. I had heard that she would run offstage when she wasn’t feeling it or just turn her back to the [audience] and keep playing. That’s when I knew I could probably do this.

[destinyc1020]

U said yesterday that Kaia can seem dismissive to ppl she dnt have to b kind to. Is there a example of that?

Yea, idk it's just a vibe that I pick up on with her.

I'm not saying she's mean, I'm just saying that she reminds me of one of those privileged nepobabies who grew up rich in Southern California their whole lives, and it's a certain kind of "air" that I can't quite put my finger on.

I think some of the instances that stand out to me are these two:

Once was in Paris and this poor fan was trying to get her attention, and she just kinda swatted her away like a fly lol. 😅

I think the biggest instance I observed was at the Taylor Swift concert that she and Austin went to last year. Kaia walked right past one of the security guards on the way out, but Austin (who was behind her) stopped to talk to the guy (I think he knew him? ) and then Kaia came back to see that Austin was talking to the guy, and then she went to go shake his hand and give him a hug, and Austin just left lol... And then she rushed to go catch up with him. 👀

I wish I could find the video, but it was just interesting.

As someone like Austin who tries to pretty much acknowledge everyone, it's just smthg I've picked up on that Kaia seems totally different from him.

Like I said, she might be nice, especially to people in her "circle", but when you've been raised in the type of rich world that she has, you just have a different way of being. Whereas, Austin comes from a pretty humble lifestyle. 🤷🏾‍♀️

I'm sure you (and other fans of hers) will most likely disagree with me (and that's okay!), but I'm just being honest about how I feel and going by what I see, and the vibes that I pick up on with her.

I felt the same way when she was dating JE also, so this has nothing to do with her current dating partner.

Like I said, I don't hate the girl.... I actually LIKE that she seems book smart, and well-read, but she's just meh to me.... She also seems like an opportunist. But then again, that's how I feel about a LOT of these young Nepobabies/influencer types lol. 😅 So maybe I'm biased. But it's the same SoCal nepobaby vibe that I get from the Kardashians. 🥴 Just kinda fake... Born in wealth their whole life.... A little vapid/out of touch with REALITY lol.... idk....

Jmho 🤷🏾‍♀️

Idk, maybe one day my thoughts on her will change (ppl can change their opinion on someone, so I don't mind changing my mind on her one day), but for right now, that's the vibe she gives me. Perhaps a sweet girl, but a little out of touch.

[pepsiiwho]

What's your opinion on the moon socal link in Persona3?

Oo great question… I’m of two minds

(Spoilers under the cut)

Oh one hand, I like nozomi. He isn’t as immediately compelling as some of the other students in the school (Keisuke, miyamoto, Yuko, Bebe, etc etc) but his inferiority complex and obvious grief in relation to his twin brother soften his otherwise bossy and difficult nature. He’s a coward both in how he views the world and in how he interacts with others. He sees someone strong and, seemingly, confident in themselves and resents MC for it as much as he regales him. It’s a shakey balance.

I think he’s just a really hurt kid who lost someone important to him too soon and hasn’t healed from that and hasn’t been given the right space to heal from that— so the wound hasn’t even scabbed. He eats to get past the failure he feels in relation to his brothers death and past the fact he isn’t good enough. Yet, he’s all that’s left.

There’s a lot of interesting things to point at with his social link and a lot of different ways to go about it.

The game, unsurprisingly, chose none of them.

Nozomi (Nozo) as he is in the game has this insidious secondary plot that begins to take center stage when we find out he is a recruiter for a religious cult trying to bring in the hopeless for salvation and eternal paradise— for a small continuous fee. While playing, it’s difficult to tell if nozo actively believes the dogma the cult is dropping and is recruiting people out of the goodness of his heart or if he understands that it’s ruining lives, his own included. At first I assumed he did understand and was doing that willingly because he needed to feel like he was finally good at something (top earning recruiter of the year idk idk) but as the link continued it gets more vague if he’s a grifter or if he honestly believes in what he’s selling (when he sold me paradise it started to dawn that he might actually be subscribing to this notion and I was a bit confused).

On the other hand…his story seems… muddled about what It wants to be.

I think the cult isn’t a bad vehicle to explore, especially in a game so heavily focused on grief and accepting the reality of death— and considering there aren’t really any other characters who are seemingly terrified of this he could’ve been a great vehicle to explode that very real (very debilitating) fear many people carry with them.

In an ideal version of his story I imagine Nozo being this good critic who has lots of followers and fans who are actively glad to see him when he goes to restaurants and waits on his every word. He’s proud of this fact as well, and flaunts it to you at every chance, and because you follow him so diligently and just listen he allows you into his flock as his right hand (religious imagery of sheep and Shepard here to tie back to the cult). You join him, thins progress as usual and he slowly opens up about the fact he had a twin brother who passed a few years back, relatively recently. He doesn’t say it plainly, but you hear some contempt for the brother there (as you do in canon). Constantly comparing MC and his brother for their good looks and athletics and general vibe. Maybe Nozo, more openly hurting here, says he’s glad his brother is gone. He just didn’t understand anything.

The father and his cronies continue to come for Nozo and he gradually lets more and more of his anxieties out. What if I never get fit in this life? What if I never become good at anything? What if I’m an unknown nobody everyone hates? What if I’m never better than the brother who died at 10? Life is so short and so fleeting! His perfect brother was taken young; having done nothing wrong and he remains. The fuck up. The nobody. He’s all that’s left of his brother— them sharing the same face… it’s almost like a ghosting is haunting Nozo and reminding him of his impending doom at every mirror flash.

(Thought I can’t fit anywhere else, the eating disorder could be because Nozo was always on the heavier side or maybe he’s just always loved food period but I’d prefer if his thought process was “eating is for the living! If I’m alive I should eat” because it’s something the dead have no use for. Maybe his brother was more a foodie and this is another way to remember him and one up him… dealers choice)

This leads into the truth about the cult and he really believes in it here just because he’s so afraid of the concept of “nothing” coming next. His perfect brother’s thread cut too soon and all he got was… nothing? The idea terrifies him unlike anything else. He must believe in paradise. The other option is too much to handle.

Things continue on as they would and then we find out that his “fans” are all people who have been fully indoctrinated into the cult and just support him out of necessity. He’s the best highest grossing recruiter in this prefect and that’s why he has even a modicum of success— it’s all fabricated. And he knows this, but it’s better than believing the harsh truth (trying in with the themes of inescapable truth/ mortality).

Things basically end the same way? Uhh (checks notes) confesses, admits he’s terrified and still leaves the cult and promises to do better and live a life he’ll be proud of— that his brother can be proud of as well.

(Coughs) man I didn’t mean to do an entire think piece but— I like this guy. I like everyone really. P3 is eating me alive.

Thank you for the ask love u ❤️⭐️… everyone talk to me about p3 forever

[creation-key]

3 Years, 36 Months, and 13,140 Days-

Word Count: 974 :)

TW: mentions of a knife. ANGST

AN: Hey guys, I’m black so while writing I imagine my characters as black, but this time I mentioned no physical attributes, so feel free to imagine her as wtv you’d like, hope you enjoy :)

I like him, I’ve always liked and I haven’t been afraid to show it.

I first met Harry Junior year of high school, I had just moved from Illinois to California and knew no one. I remember looking at my schedule walking, then the next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I started to apologize but was immediately taken back by the nerdy boy with curly hair. He started apologizing and explaining himself, reaching down his hand to help me back up. Not listening to a word he said, I interrupted his dialogue-

“you’re beautiful, but you ramble a lot”

I had said, and ever since then, I have been in love. Fast forward to now, it’s our Freshman year of college, and we both got into SoCal. I am still so in love with him, even more so now that he’s grown more into his looks. Every where he is, I’m right beside him. Everywhere he sits, I’m right on top of him, even if there’s an empty chair. My philosophy is, why sit there when Harry’s available?

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Harry, but I’m also his best friend and if he started getting feelings for another girl, like in our senior year, then I would back off. But until he finds a girl better than me? Spoiler alert, there’s no one, then he’s stuck with me. I think he secretly likes me too, well that was until I overheard a cute little conversation between these 2 witches that hate me.

“Ugh, when is she going to get the hint that Harry doesn’t like her?”

“I know right, I mean if anything, he only keeps her around for the attention she gives him. It honestly a little sad.”

“For real, she’s like a little bug, practically a stalker at this point”

After hearing that, I ignored it because I know they like Harry and hate on everyone who’s around him, especially me since I am around him 24/7. But my subconscious listened, and the little insecure girl inside of me started to take over, distancing myself.

It started off with just little things such as staying home to do homework rather than hang out with Harry, or make plans with friends on our planned friday night movie “dates”. I guess Harry picked up on it before I did, because now he’s yelling at me in a bedroom… at a party… at 12 am…on a Saturday… He wasn’t even supposed to be at this party, and that’s exactly what I told him too when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into this room-

“Why have you been avoiding me Celeste?” He says after locking the door, now turned around leaning on it with his arms crossed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking.” I reply back fast, laying down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yes you do, and now you’re lying? You never lie, that was favorite trait about you, no matter how bad, you always were straightforward with your feelings and towards others? WHAT HAPPENED?” He raises his voice towards the end.

I look up at him, surprised, knowing that he never raises his voice unless it’s serious. Meeting his gaze, I finally see the tears running down his flushed cheeks, he makes no effort to hide them, just let’s them fall.

Confused, I stand up and walk towards him, cupping both cheeks, wiping off his tears with my thumbs.

“I’m sorry, H. I guess I just thought that 3 years was long enough.” I try to move my hands back, but he quickly grabs my wrists holding them there.

“What do you mean?” He says ever so softly, more tears threatening to fall.

“Come on H, I’ve been in love with you since Junior year of high school, and I’ve been oh so vocal about, so much so that people who don’t know me think that we’re dating!” I pause, taking my hands off his face, backing away towards the other side of the room, feeling a breakdown coming.

“I know that” He responds trying to reach at me. I stop him.

“Please H, I need to get this out now, and I can’t have you touching me or else I won’t be able to say it.”

Looking defeated he just nods.

“I’m tired of following you around all the time, hoping, no… praying that someday you’ll wake up reciprocate my feelings. I know that’s a lot to ask for, which is why I’ve never once pressured you to tell me how you feel, for both your sake and mine. These past few weeks, I’ve decided to distance myself because I’ve realized how long it’s been that I’ve been waiting for you. I mean when you really think about it, 3 years is 36 months which is approximately 13,140 days! That’s 13,000 days that I have been hopelessly in love with you, wasting my time and yours. You never loved me-”

“I did love you-”

“You never loved me in the way that I loved you, and that hurt me Harry, all 3 years I was hurting, and I just didn’t realize it until now. You know I’m a strong woman Harry, but this, whatever game we’re playing, I want out, I don’t want to play anymore, I’m tired, and most of all just hurt.” I start walking towards the door, unlocking it.

“Celeste wait-”

“No Harry, this is goodbye, can’t really be a break up since we were never together.” I smile at him sadly, opening the door and closing it. I walk out of the party, saying goodbye to the people I came with, and started the walk back to my dorm.

Feeling far away I enough, I let the tears I was holding in for the past 3 years fall. I cried so much that I didn’t even see the knife the man was holding.

[alrightsnaps]

"In a modern au Anthony's nudes would get leaked and Sienna would be the one to do it out of spite" yep safe to say I'm never going into the Bridgerton tag on here again. Kate is obviously Anthony's true love but god why do people feel the need to vilify Sienna for simply existing especially in modern aus? Especially when she was never the villain in the first place. People really say "I dislike this female character and how she treated my baby male character so I'm going to have her do revenge porn and make her the villain in my fic!" with their whole chests. Sienna deserves so much better than that and better than her socalled fans who only pretend to care about her because they don't like that Anthony didn't end up with a white woman. Kate deserves far more respect in general from this fandom.

someone wrote that?! jesus this fandom is getting so unhinged with their misogyny 💀

i honestly don't get where all the siena hate is coming from. or the need to compare her with kate?

i get hating on racist women who ship anthony with siena bc they can't stand him not ending up with a white woman (as you said it's an issue and i 100% agree that siena deserves better than these “fans” who just see her as a white self insert).

but why would you hate on the character? she was literally never kate’s competition. she was out of the picture before kathony even met. how the hell is she the bad guy in any way?

it's jus recycling tired tropes of women fighting over a man as if he's some great prize to begin with. not to mention the madonna-whore situation and framing marriage to a man as the ultimate “win” a woman can score over another.

truth is both siena and kate were treated like crap by anthony! yes, kate too, idc how many excuses his stans come up with he's got a lot of grovelling to do for what he put her through. he had plenty of chances to drop his pursuit of edwina and doubled out on it instead, knowing there was something between him and kate.

the constant coddling of anthony to shield him from any criticism at the expense of women in his life is exhausting. like, there's zero acknowledgment of the privilege anthony had over both of them, as if his trauma is an excuse for misogyny and shitty behaviour.

[olderthannetfic]

Could you shout out a couple of your favourite m/m authors or books, please? (nw if you don’t like reccing things tho, I find it stressful myself.)

I also find the one ship per book in a series not my cup of tea tbh. I find it too jarring to switch over to other characters I’m not as emotionally invested in within a world.

--

I don't mind side stories that wrap up supporting characters' romances, but I tend to like a main series that's about the same characters/ship most of the time.

I recced a few in response to another ask. That should be posting... some time. (You can tell how well I keep track of my queue.)

Who haven't I mentioned... let's see... Jenn Burke's Not Dead Yet series is pretty interesting, though it eventually angered me with a side character death.

E.J. Russell has a lot of books with different ships but that are all in the same universe. They work better for me than most such books because there's an urban fantasy arc plot about missing fae running through them. Some are a bit too ultra-fluff for my taste. Many are pretty funny. A lot of them feature things like supernatural dating agencies or event planners.

Integrate by Thea Hayworth is only available on Smashwords and is a one-off, but I can't say no to an alien-human buddy cop duo. Both the case and the romance are reasonably fleshed out for this short length, and the worldbuilding is fascinating. I want more! Come back usually-fic-author and write original!

I enjoyed AJ Sherwood's Jon's Downright Ridiculous Shooting Case and sequels/stuff in the same universe.

I've only checked out Beth Bolden a little bit. I met her at a conference, and she seems cool. (Definitely a recent fic fandom person, like many of us writing original m/m.) I read part of a boy band romance of hers that she admitted was 1D with the serial numbers filed. Filed well, I might add: the original version is sufficiently SoCal that I wasn't positive which boy band it was riffing off of. But what I really enjoyed was her fairytale-ish fantasy novel Yours, Forever After.

Meghan Maslow's Starfig Investigations was an instant favorite for me. I'm not sure if younger people will even be familiar with the genre of fantasy it is. It didn't click for me until I heard her talking about it, but the series is basically a take off of Robert Asprin's Myth series: oldschool secondary world fantasy full of dumb puns and jokes that only make sense in relation to the real world. Like that series, Maslow's features portals between realms and a lot of magic tech in advanced cities even if the trappings are Ren Faire-ish. The sense of humor style was pretty common in early 90s sff publishing and turns up in old games like Monkey Island, but it's not something I see all that much in m/m fantasy novels.

Harper Fox's Tyack & Frayne series is about a cop and a psychic in small town Cornwall. Lots of pagan vibes in this one, and some of the supernatural stuff picks up as the series goes along, but the basic structure is contemporary British mysteries.

The Plumber's Mate series by J.L. Merrow is a much more comedic take on UK village mysteries. I'm not usually into stories where people end up with their bully from school, but I liked how it was handled here. The side characters are a hoot, especially the camp best friend and the dwarf porn star turned vegetable salesman.

Morgan Brice I'm not as fond of, but she has a bunch of series including one that feels like early seasons Supernatural.

I don't think I ever read the sequels to My Zombie Boyfriend by T. Strange. It's... well... about a dude who finds a hot corpse and decides to revive him as a zombie. The lead is a weird little perv with an ex who's a goth mortician, a horrible undead pet cat, and an obsession for his new zombie project. I found this one while looking for creepy books after reading one too many bits of ultra-fluff with barely any plot.

I was enjoying the Hours of the Night series by Irene Preston and Liv Rancourt, but it seems like they stopped writing it without resolving anything? A lot of the books I've read are good but would have been better with more sequels, so they don't spring to mind here.

There are seriously a shitton of writers working in this space. I just found a few authors and started trying books and seeing what else was on the same goodreads lists and so on. You need to have a tolerance for hideous cover art, but plenty of the actual books are fine.

[mcmactictac]

Please tell me more about your neurodivergent Hiccup headcanon, I want details lol! 😆

@ak47stylegirl This has taken an absurd amount of time to put together but I do not care. I am so excited you asked. Buckle in folks! This is going to be a long one.

Let’s start with some traits that are commonly associated with being neurodivergent. I’ve included them in a short list here and I’ll expand on them later

-struggling socially

-jumps quickly from task to task

-getting hyper fixated on something

-having a strong contrast between strengths and weaknesses in different areas (you might struggle with math but be amazing at English)

-struggles to maintain eye contact

-inattentive

-constant fidgeting/movement

-impulsive

Now these are all traits that are associated with either adhd or autism. Lots of them overlap too. And these are like some of the top things that you look for within symptoms. You can find these with very little research, and these are usually some of the first things to come up. Hiccup shows a large majority of traits that are commonly associated with neurodivergency. And that’s not even considering what me (who is also neurodivergent) would consider traits that would be less common within him

Ok let’s break this down point by point here. Struggling socially. Hiccup exhibits this one a LOT. It is strongly emphasized throughout the movie how he is different from others his age and he struggles to connect and bond with them. There’s also that strong emphasis of him wanting to be “normal” and be able to do things like everyone else, something neurodivergent people often experience. You could argue he struggled socially because they don’t like him, but later on in the movie when he starts to get good at dragon training, he still struggles to connect. Even though he can, he doesn’t go out of his way to connect and socalize with anyone. He still seems very uncomfortable in those social situations. He gets better at this as the movies go on, but he still remains a very introverted person who doesn’t connect like everyone else does.

Jumping from task to task! Stoick mentions this in the first film, how Hiccup struggles to stay focused and do work on something he isn’t interested in. He’s “never where he’s supposed to be” and likes to do things that suit him when he can. He can switch gears very fast, and pull a complete 180

Now the way Hiccup gets with Toothless reminds me of a hyperfixation. He’s obsessed with being able to kill a dragon, designing and building that machine to help him. As the movie progresses he grows more to be focused on toothless and making him a tail and understanding him. This consumes literally all of his time. We can see in the montage, he finds excuses to avoid hanging out and spends all his time with toothless. He learns everything that he can about him, and uses it in other situations. He’s constantly thinking about toothless even when he isn’t with him. Think about that day in training where he just kept asking questions about night furies instead of paying attention to the literal dragon chasing them. Toothless is always at the forefront of his mind, and he devotes lots of time, effort and planning into making a tail that works

Different strengths and weaknesses. Hiccup sucks at combat, especially in the first movie. But he does have amazing design and craftsmanship skills. His out of the box thinking gives him the idea to give toothless a saddle and tail, and he’s able to use his skills to develop it. The reason he grows more confident as the movies go on is because he leans more into his strengths to help him. Air combat instead of on the ground, his fire sword, he gets good at getting to a solution in an effective way for him. He uses his strengths to help make him less weak in the areas he struggles.

Eye contact!

Let’s talk about this specific shot shall we. Now this one is mostly about trust. Hiccup trusting toothless won’t hurt him, and looking away to display that trust. But I’m also choosing to consider that when both of them don’t have to maintain eye contact they feel more safe and will be more comfortable. That eye contact isn’t necessary for that close bond and connection. I don’t have the patience to go and find multiple examples of frames and stuff but hiccups gaze often shifts around in scenes, or he will be facing the same way as the person he’s talking too.

Innattentive! There are multiple examples of hiccup being almost seriously injured or killed because he wasn’t paying attention. After he hits toothless with his machine and doesn’t notice the giant dragon crawling up the mountain until it is right in front of him. When they’re flying he often doesn’t notice his surroundings until the last moment and they run into (or almost run into) many things because of it. He struggles to pay attention in conversations he doesn’t care about, often in talks with his dad. He typically leaves because he gets bored and doesn’t care. It displays in many different ways, but it’s clearly there.

Fidgeting/movement. When Hiccup talks he spends a lot of time gesturing and using his arms. Astrid pokes fun at it In the second movie, but he does have a tendency to move quite a lot more than others during conversations. He rarely stands still, either moving his arms or shifting his gaze around.

Impulsive. Yeah I think this one is pretty self explanatory. Cutting an incredibly dangerous dragon free, flying on said dragon, constantly trying new risky and dangerous tricks. Hiccups plans are typically thrown together quickly and are very last moment. It make sense for most of the situations he’s in but he makes choices incredibly quickly, and often ones that aren’t regarded as the smart ones. People talk about how people with adhd specifically are much more likely to engage in risky behaviour because of that impulsivity, and hiccup takes plenty of BIG risks.

Now on to my personal thoughts, reasons why I personally think he is neurodivergent (niche edition)

-his speech patterns and the way he talks! He often trips, stutters and mumbles over his words. He can trail off mid sentence or have confusing trains of thoughts for some people. It makes sense to him but not always for everyone else.

-he is incredibly introverted. He’s perfectly fine to spend time alone and it’s more relaxing and less stressful for him because he doesn’t have to be around people. I find that neurodivergent people relax more when they are alone because they can stop masking all the time, and they can just. Vibe.

-he’s very physically clumsy! His spacial awareness is not the greatest and he often trips, falls, drops and just overall. Struggles. This is another trait that is often associated with people who show other signs of neurodivergency. There’s no big fancy reason for this one it’s just one I see a lot in myself too. Even if you see something you’ll still run into it, it’s like spacial awareness is just a little off

Now on to neurodivergent headcanons! Woo!

-When Hiccup gets overstimulated he goes flying with Toothless and they just glide. It’s quiet, and easy, and he can relax a bit and stop worrying about other people. Let himself slow down a bit before going back into a stressful and difficult situation

-stims! Hes constantly fidgeting with something. A pencil, a knife, a compass. He falls into patterns of fidgeting with the same things when he gets worried about different things. He also has a little bracelet Astrid or one of his kids made him that he fidgets with too.

-he can’t pay attention for shit during meetings without being distracted. He often has a notebook with him and he is sketching out design ideas to have something to do with his hands and distract him during it. He still listens he just needs something else to keep him occupied

-the suit he makes for when he flies with toothless is really tight. A lot of people can find that pressure comforting, which is why things like weighted blankets are so popular. It’s still breathable, but it fits tightly so that he feels safe and has that pressure there

-hiccup who has a special interest for night furies and spends his whole life learning as much as he can about them. Their history, where they came from, how they evolved

-he’s an amazing inventor/builder. When problems are presented around the village he leans into his strengths and creates something to help solve the problem in a way that works for him.

-he struggles with tone sometimes, so if he ever has to visit with another village he makes sure to take Astrid with him so that she can decipher tone he might struggle with to make sure they aren’t getting screwed over.

-when he gets very overwhelmed he typically goes nonverbal. This is often when he goes to fly with toothless. Once Astrid realized what was happening and what was causing it she never pushed him to talk until he was ready, and just offered whatever support he needed

This is just my general summary so as you can tell I have a lot of thoughts on the subject. Thanks for asking though, this was super fun to write out! Hope you found it as interesting as I do!

[burnedbyshoto]

seven

Rich and powerful men can marry seven different women in a wild attempt to produce the perfect heir. Todoroki Enji is one of these powerful men, and you’re his seventh bride.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki enji (endeavor) x fem!reader

warnings: edo period!endeavor (king henry viii inspo), forced marriage, alcohol consumption, 18+, smut, non-con, dub-con, size difference, breeding kink, rough-sex, pain, degradation, & mind break

word count: 5,750

a/n: fuck that family who started the fire in socal. my campus is literally raining ashes up in oregon. im so tired. two exams monday. im going to be going on meds for anxiety and adhd soon, so thats new. uh,,, this is like LOL its a bit bad,,, but I really, really lust over asshole enji who only wants to breed bitches and thats it. this is for the bnharem fantasy au collab, i wan’t that creative sorry see ya later skaters.

PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS. PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE WARNINGS.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One.

Fate: Spared.

Two.

Fate: Executed.

Three.

Fate: Died during childbirth.

Four.

Fate: Spared.

Five.

Fate: Executed.

Six.

Fate: Executed.

Seven.

Fate: Unknown.

Silks and expensive cloth held a scent that was irreplicable.

The smooth smell of the layers upon layers of fabric wrapped around your body did nothing to quench the building layer of ice in your stomach.

You were scared.

Rightfully so.

Six women came before you, and if you wanted to live, you would have to do better than them.

Marrying the Todoroki Clan head was something that most women could only dream of accomplishing in this day and age. The Todoroki’s, after all, are strong, rich, powerful, undefeated. They held the real power in this age, more influential and notable than the emperor that repeatedly begged the family for support, be it in power, strength, or money.

But, it was also known knowledge that the man who sat at the head of the clan, who held the power of the Todoroki name and future, was a man not to be trifled with.

Todoroki Enji was an endeavor of a man.

There had always been whispers about the head of the family, how he stood eight feet tall, and how his body was not lean like most warriors, but thick and savagely sturdy. His hair was red, blessed by the sun some claimed, or cursed by the devil others alleged. His temper and barbaric nature on the battlefield were, of course, rumored by the people on your lands, who had been indebted by the Todoroki Clan because of their protection and profits. 

Todoroki Enji was not a man to be trifled with.

Especially not if the rumors were true.

He was painted as a demon by everyone. Still, Enji was no demon, he was human, and if he was to allow the Todoroki Clan's legacy to continue, he needed an heir… but since he was human, he was aging.

Six women.

You knew that it was six women because you had been alive to experience five of them.

You remember the newly married couple being paraded through the streets.

Todoroki Enji remained hidden within his vehicle's confines while his new wife, doe-eyed, smiling, effervescent, would greet the gathered crowds. You often wondered what they thought when you would conjure in respect for the man who ensured your childhood and adolescence were not corrupted by thieves and horror.

You wondered what she thought when promising the village elders that she would produce a strong, male heir. You raised an eyebrow at the thought that maybe, just maybe they believed that they would be different -- be able to birth a strong, capable male heir.

Six wives.

Twenty children.

Two weak, sickly boys.

A whole clan of girls.

Were they idiotic, blind, or batshit insane to ever believe that they would be different?

You undoubtedly didn’t know.

Three of the six had been executed.

Three of six had been proud to state they would produce a strong male Todoroki heir, noting that his two sons -- Touya and Natsuo -- would be removed from the family as soon as their strong son was born. 

One of those three birthed a weak, sickly baby boy. She passed in childbirth and took him with her one day after.

Another of those three birthed four girls, two sets of twins because, of course, they were given two chances. She was executed on treason.

The final of those three had simply pissed him off; rumor had it. Her pussy was too tight, unwilling to sheath the thick massive cock that belonged to him… no point in breaking something that wouldn’t bend when there was more pussy out there (you remember she had been ugly too).

But what you didn’t expect was for his clan members to come through your village's streets with an announcement in hand.

Of the six women before you, three had held significant political power -- the three that survived.

Of the remaining three, there was a poet, the other a woman soldier of his, and the last being a clan member.

You had never known what the decision process was, not even a little bit, so when men dressed in dark robes with the Todoroki sigil and katana’s strapped to their sides infiltrated your village, you were on edge.

“All women who are fertile and beautiful, line up, and no, we don’t care if you’re married,” was the short, almost taunting order, and you had never felt sicker.

You were among the seventy females in your village that matched the requirement they demanded. 

Your sight was almost glued to the floor as they walked through you all, your fists grabbing your light blue kimono as the men groped the women in line, teasing the breasts of the pregnant women, rutting their poorly concealed cocks through the valley of asses, shoving between some girls thighs with loopy, proud smiles on their faces, beating any man who attempted to protect any one of their honors. 

But you were towards the end of the line, standing where they decided to save for last, and you were helpless to it all. You watched knowing that of the sixty-something women ahead of you, none of them remained. 

The whimpers, cries, and whines grew louder by your ear, your spine rigid and sore with its tightness as the girl beside you dropped to the floor in her fear. You couldn’t bother looking at her as the parting of their robes seemed to be akin to gunpowder going off in your ears. The horrified squeal on her tongue being silenced when a cock slammed through her lips, the tears pouring down her face useless, if anything, only encouraging their roughhousing. 

Your lip curled at the sound of her pathetic whining, the incessant need of her to tell them that she was not okay with this was nails on an iron plate. It annoyed you, it pissed you off.

“Look at this one,” the snickering laughter of a man breathed by your ear, instantly stilling and freezing the anger that was once radiating like fire from your chest. “She doesn’t look ashamed… she looks like she’s jealous. Maybe these common bitches do have someone good enough for Boss.”

Spluttering gasps and hiccuping cries came from the ground, and you couldn’t even bother glancing at the woman you had known all your life laying on the floor, kimono ripped open, and white, sticky cum dripping from her mouth.

“Well, there’s nothing like taking her out for a test run,” came a sleazy smile, and when two hands gripped at your clothed breasts, you didn’t so much as raise a brow at their perverted actions.

You had won in the end against them. Each perverted, twisted intention they placed against you, dirt crusted fingernails digging into your arms, purpling, throbbing cocks pressed into your backside… it hadn’t mattered.

You didn’t budge.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t make a noise.

A simple smirk remaining on their faces at your inevitable victory against the other women in your village -- against the crying, cum stuffed women who stared at your victorious and stubborn form without a clue on how you managed.

And where did that land you?

In a room with only one window too high up for an average person to reach, white silks and fabrics adorning your body, and ceremonial ornaments in your hair.

Six women came before you, but today, you would become the seventh.

With you, there would be seven women to have wed Todoroki Enji, but you weren’t scared because you feared the fate of the six before you. No, you were much better than them; you already knew that for a fact.

The anxiety that coursed through your veins created that ice pit in your stomach came from one place and one place only.

Your cunt already sobbed at the thought of even attempting at taking his thick, veiny cock you knew was the size of your thigh later tonight.

A virgin like you had no chance of survival.

The doors to your room soon slammed open, and your back stiffened at the sight of a familiar face of an escort you had. His eyes didn’t meet yours; they were focused at the wall, his face tense and tight.

“It’s best we leave now, y/l/n, Todoroki-sama doesn’t like waiting.”

The weight of the white silk on your body felt like a brick when you stood up from your position, and you wondered if the sweat from your pits and palms would damage the kimono -- if it was noticeable. But you had a duty, and as number seven, you had no motive to be executed before even getting the chance to prove yourself.

You knew how wishes worked; the secret was in being silent about your desire… never reveal what your wish was, or the world wouldn’t grant it.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself every time you heard the all too familiar words of: “I’ll produce a fine Todoroki heir,” through the lips of the dead and the divorced. They had spoken it to the universe, acknowledged what they needed, and the cruel world failed them each and every time.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, so consumed by the idea of what would happen tonight, you hardly realized that with the heaving puffing breathes you took to keep up with the man’s ridiculous strides, that you had made it to the shrine that you had been brought to wed.

But you couldn’t even take in the beauty of the shrine to your left because you were more interested in who was standing in the pathway towards the shrine.

Todoroki Enji.

He stood on the stone-paved path, his bulky, beefy arms folded across his chest, the fabric of his kimono taut and tight against his flexed muscle, and a sour frown on his face. It was as the rumors had spoken, you realized when you stopped mere strides away from your future husband, he was a man that looked both godly and cursed.

Bright red hair glistened like copper pans under the sunlight, waving and flickering like a raging fire with every small burst of wind. He stood at almost eight feet high, maybe eight feet, you had no idea. All you knew is that as your feet stumbled when getting near to this man, you were dwarfed, feeling like a child next to their father as you gazed up at his unmoving, scarred face. His eyes didn’t look down at you, but even you could see the clear, sharp blue in them, and for the first time, you questioned reality.

Was this man truly human? Was he genuinely Japanese?

Seeing him before you made your knees buckle in fear, arousal, and anticipation.

You wanted to see what had made the sixth scream to stop.

You wanted to see just what he was hiding behind the ridiculously tight fitted kimono, but your thoughts were yanked away when his hand -- no doubt bigger than your head -- pressed to space between your shoulder blades and pushed you.

“We’re on a tight schedule,” he merely growled, his eyes burning at something a million miles away, and with a small, pitiful whimper, you allowed him to lead the way.

The wedding ceremony was… odd, to say the least.

While you had never been married, you had attended a few weddings within your lifetime already, and never once had it felt so disturbing dead and raw as it had today. This Shinto ceremony, typically doused with symbolism and motifs for the greatest possible outcome for the union between you and Todoroki Enji, was stripped from the shrine walls, leaving the walls barren and cold as both he and the priest proceeded through the ceremony at breakneck speed.

It wasn’t something Enji wanted; you realized that clearly the moment he refused to meet your gaze; his blue eyes remaining on the priest.

Everything the both of you performed together was done haphazardly, the lack of symbols you had always wished to see in your wedding ceremony forgotten, undoubtedly seen as a farce by a man like Todoroki Enji, but still, your heart ached.

You hadn’t noticed when the ceremony had ended; Enji never once allowing you to move, or do anything for that matter, by yourself. There was no use in fighting against a man who’s entire hand fit around your forearm, his thumb even resting against his fingernail -- oh yes, this man was huge.

There was no telling when he paraded you through the streets of his territory, allowing you to numbly speak to the village elders, to allow your parents to press their sweaty palms to your cheeks because god, please, please survive this, their touch practically sobbed. You smiled at them, eyes numb with the reality of what this was going to be for you, but the cheerful tone on your tongue remained optimistic and bright with every passing word. 

The scornful thoughts of the sixth woman being too weak to handle Enji had dissipated, and you wondered just what the other five did to survive what you knew was a massive fucking cock hidden beneath the shrowds of his black kimono.

You would survive, you would survive, you would survive.

But far before you were ready to, you arrived back at the Todoroki front, the wooden estate standing sturdy and strong, the air of power and aura almost tangible. The samurai and clansmen who had undoubtedly awaited for you and your now-husband (that was still odd to think about) to return. Pairs of warm, weathered hands helped you from the carriage, and without so much of a whisper of thanks, they escorted you away, heads bowed at the mercy of their leader.

Once more, you were abandoned in your room.

The window no longer allowed the streaming setting sunlight in, your room was in the eastern part of the estate, and with the nighttime coming, the setting sun was merely a memory to you.

And in that room, the tiny, unspacious room that seemed much more for a prisoner than the seventh wife of Todoroki Enji, you tried not to cry.

The door slamming open hours after you had fallen asleep had taken you by surprise.

Enji had left you to your own entertainment, and long after you were served dinner, and informed that no, Todoroki-sama would not be visiting you right now because he was busy, you had sat on the bed in your silks and robes, numbly looking at the star-filled sky. Sleep was the only thing you could do, and with the last servant visit being past midnight, you took to sleep.

Except that you forgot a sparing, important detail.

This was Todoroki Enji’s world, and you were merely his legal fuckhole.

The heavy footsteps of Enji entering the room echoed in your ear, and the door closed behind him, solidifying the end of the beginning of what you once knew. 

“Seven,” he growled into the night, and your spine snapped straight.

He loomed above you, the tatami mat suddenly feeling like a brick wall against your side, and you swallowed pathetically at the way his deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

This had been the first time you had heard him speak, all other forms of communication between him and the priest and he and his clan members had been nonverbal, solely told through those piercing blue eyes that only let you dream of what he sounded like -- of what he was demanding. But you lay confused, your eyebrows scrunched at just why he had called out the number seven?

Seven what?

You twisted where you lay, your eyes meeting his own, and despite the lack of light in the room, you could see the cold, distant glint in his eyes.

“Oh good,” he mocked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes squinted in his apparent lack of approval. “You can hear.”

“S-Seven what?” you stammer, your elbow pressing into the mat, pushing you up so that you could look at your husband, uncertainty and discomfort scorching every nerve in your body. 

You didn’t know what to do.

Then, it hit you. The bitter, numbing smell of alcohol coated in a fine layer around his skin, the small puffs of angry air from his mouth letting you know that your husband was inebriated, and your throat clenched when he began to dismantle his kimono.

“T-This isn’t a good idea!” you stammer, the white silk robes you were still dressed in because they refused to allow you a set of sleeping clothes because the marriage needed to be consummated, felt stiff and not protective enough. “You won’t produce a proper heir if you’re intoxicated.”

Enji raised an eyebrow at you, and your thudding heart failed to cease as his robes hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. 

Whiskey dick wasn’t something foreign to you; the countless men you had sucked off in your time, the numerous sex stories you had been shared with always had some instance of a man getting drunk and being able to get their cock hard, but this…?

If this was Enji’s whiskey dick, you weren’t sure what to expect of his sober cock.

His cock was already hard, the veins in his cock large, plentiful, and bulging in many areas. It was thick, without a doubt thick enough where it would take both your hands to circle around his cock, and it was long, the swollen weeping tip leaking against his abdomen. His cock was magnificent yet deadly, and your pussy spasmed in fear of having that monster all twelve plus inches shoved into your virgin cunt.

“The fuck are you doing, seven?” Enji snarled, his powerful naked legs moving toward you, his feet pressing into the mat, and his hand reaching out to you. “I didn’t marry you for you to just stare at my fucking cock like some piss-shit baby.”

There was no time to panic, protest, or even prepare yourself for the sudden sharp, dull ache in your jaw when he pressed his monster cock past your chapped, chewed lips. 

Immediately, it was overwhelming.

The engorging cock had barely passed your lips, but you were already gagging against the unwelcomed size, the horrid ache sending spilling tears down your cheeks, doing nothing but annoying the man before you. His hands gripped your hair, his eyes not even bothering to look at you as he fucked your mouth.

“Stop fucking resisting,” Enji snarled, his hips coming to meet your mouth in a vicious, unpleasant snap, the head of his cock pressing down your clenched throat, and so much of his cock still remaining far from your mouth. “Take my cock like the fucking whore I know you are, seven.”

You gasp for air, but with his cock ramming further and further down your throat, the scalding heat emitting from his skin burning your throat, making you gag and choke around him in your fear. You couldn’t breathe, you realized in a panic, and your eyes widened in fear, drool and spit spilling down your chin pathetically as Enji hums contently.

“Don’t feel so scared, seven,” Enji cruelly smirked up at the ceiling, his hips lazily, sloppily, yet powerfully delivering his cock into your bulging throat. “I heard what you did to my men, how you let them fuck you however they saw fit, how you scoffed and scowled at the other pathetic weak bitches who couldn’t handle a little groping… I thought you would like this? What is it? Never had a real fucking cock before? A little whore like yourself only gotten shitty little cocks?”

Wordlessly, you begged to be shown mercy, your vision blackening as he choked out all forms of oxygen, his war weathered body unbothered by your clawing fingers on his thighs. No, you were too weak for it to hurt him.

His hands left your hair, and you collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air, choking, and coughing for oxygen that only burned all through your system, sitting unpleasantly in your lungs while tears and saliva mixed on your throat.

“Where the fuck are do you think you’re going, seven?” Enji barked, his body suddenly looming over yours, and you felt trapped, unable to move as the mountain of a man trapped you between his sturdy arms and legs. His cock, warm and sticky with your spit and his precum, sat heavily on your stomach, the size difference between the two of you even more pronounced when the tip of his cock rested at the bottom of your ribcage. “All you did was lube up my cock for your stupid, tight pussy. Don’t think I was satisfied with that childish blowjob -- next time, if you want to cry, make sure it’s loud enough that I feel it against my cock.”

You pathetically moan at his words, the tears still falling from your eyes because your throat and jaw hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Please,” you gasped as his cinder hot hands pressed to your breasts against your kimono, he quickly enveloped your tender flesh in his hands despite the fabric. “Please, no more.”

“I don’t remember this marriage being about you,” he mocked, and with no more of a glinting snarl of his mouth, he tore the kimono straight off your body. The horrified scream that left your lips was silenced by the echoing slap across your face.

Pain blistered at the side of your face, and the resulting tears couldn’t be felt against your numbed skin as Enji continued his conquest, his fingers pulling and ripping any and all fabric pressed against your body.

“Get away!” you weakly whimpered, body trembling and twisting as you attempted to escape the man looming above you, finally ridding you of all dresses, hands pressing to the back of your thighs to push you into a position that he liked. “Leave me alone, leave me alone…”

There was no fire in your words, nothing but the aching fear and undeniable terror.

But the words did nothing to Enji, who continued to move you so that your tight, virgin cunt lined up with his throbbing, red cockhead. Even like this, your face was pressed into his chest. His body unworldly larger than yours, incredibly goliath compared to you.

“You know, seven, if you keep trying to escape me and you keep trying to save yourself, then why are you so fucking wet with everything I’ve done?” he growls down at you, his piercing blue eyes staring straight through you, the tears falling down your face doing nothing but encouraging him because he was right… your cunt, just like his cock, was wet, dripping with the undeniable pleasure of this all. There was a fire, a shameful fire, in your pussy, throbbing in time with the stinging pulse in your face that begged for Enji’s cock despite it all. “You fucking tiny little slut… I can feel just how my actions -- how my words -- affect you, getting you off like a bitch in heat! Your efforts to hide it are pathetic, fucking useless.”

Pain.

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, a soundless shriek breaking past your bleeding lips, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and your face flushed in pain and lust press into his chest, the only part of him you could touch. 

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!” you cried, fat and painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down the apples of your cheeks while Enji sighed at the feeling of your hot cunt against his cock, blood seeping out of your pussy in such a pretty way he couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he observes, his hips slamming against you without warning, his mind only caring about him, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “Mhm, this is nice. A tight, young pussy always means a good womb, you’ll give me the heir I need… I’ll make sure to fuck you full of my cum.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

“Hey.” SLAP. Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered and so spaced between it was as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, blue eyes burning demonly down at you (you wondered if this was the same look those who survived to see him on the battlefield claimed he had), his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. You pressed further into the tatami, the angle of penetration only furthering with your desperate screams to be gentler. “Shut the hell up, you’re annoying me with all this fucking screaming. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips not becoming any easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but still a throbbing pain than had your fingernails cutting into his skin. “You have to be gentler! Be gentler, please be gentler! You’re so much bigger than me!!! My pussy can’t… my pussy can’t handle this!”

The fabric of the kimono under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the mat, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. He slammed your knees into the mat, increasing the angle of his penetration by a tenfold, sending you into another round of howling pain and pleasure as his cock slammed into your cervix -- bruising and scalding your puffy, sensitive walls with every powerful thrust. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain and pleasure and fear were cut off by an enormous fist around your neck, and his voice echoed from above you.

“Didn’t your dad teach you fucking whore to be quiet, seven?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, you went light-headed and limp, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the esteemed nobleman of Japan. “You’re my breeding whore, do you understand? You have no value to me except to be breed, to be full of my cum, to carry my child. You are nothing more than an object. Do. You. understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

“Y-Yes!” you choke on your tongue.

“Repeat it!”

“I’m your breeding whore! Fill me with your cum, I wanna… fuck, I w-wanna carry your children! I’m your object, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours!”

“There we go,” Enji sighs contently, his broad chest pressing your thighs further into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing the jabbing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he groans, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, your legs then wrap around his body, shaking as he makes no effort to slow in his advances, your finger drawing blood from where they raked down his back because he was burning an outline of your body into the mat. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

You were only here to be bred, to give him a son, the strongest son the entire country of Japan -- nay, the world -- has ever seen.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up to meet him, a prayer that it would ease this brutal force he was using. It was too much -- his cock easily overpowering your throbbing cunt.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gouge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal, your breath hot and sticky between the valley of his chest. Your tongue pressing against his skin akin to some infant looking to suck their mothers tit.

The force in which Enji slammed his hips to meet yours. Above your ear, the growling pants that mocked you for enjoying this demeaned you for thinking you were anything more than his breeding whore sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of a conflagration to your core. When your head smashed against the mat because you could no longer keep your head up. 

“That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips with your mindless babble, your eyes fluttering closed. Pleasure drowned in pain sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re far from over.”

Enji was raw power, destruction, and strength. He pistoled into your sobbing core with the intent of getting his sperm into your cunt, to get his sperm that would get him a son into you, other than that, he was uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining and crying. Your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the floor begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa — holy shit, r-right there! M-More, more, more, more--”

“What? Do you need to come already, seven?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him. “Do you really think I’ll let you cum before me?”

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. 

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand moving from pressing onto the tatami mat and pushing into your opened mouth, pressing onto your tongue. “Suck my fingers like a good whore, show me that you’re not gonna disappoint me. Suck my fingers.” you sob in the thought, not because you’re fearful of disappointing the man, but because the feeling of his fingers in your mouth makes your cunt throb ludicrously, your tongue desperately wrapping around the appendages, pushing through the space of his fingers. “I’m going to fill you up so good, breeding whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that. With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrust that sends his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it’s bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, his and your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

Your mouth opened, sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite your core's undeniable tremor and ache. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants, your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at the window painted with the rising morning sun.

Your room was in the east wing, after all.

You didn’t even protest when he pressed a smooth wooden plug into your cunt to “ensure you were bred to succession.”

He would soon leave your room, stumbling out with a drunken hiccup, leaving you to lay on a once white kimono… a once white kimono drenched in cum, blood, sweat, and tears.

You wouldn’t know until two weeks later, but Todoroki Enji had succeeded in breeding you, and you would eventually lay in a birthing room with blood and sweat and tears soaking your skin as a silent baby boy was placed in your arms.

“And what will his name be?” the midwife asked, her eyes wide with joy for you and Enji.

“...Shouto.”

[wesawbears]

I am a simple AFTG fan. I love Andrew, I love Jeremy. I think they should be friends. I write that.

Here’s my other Andrew and Jeremy friendship post, but it’s not necessary to read that first: x

--

For the most part, Andrew paid his teammates as much attention as one would give to a road sign. Enough attention to keep his job, to do what they need him to do, but he’s still not a team player, and making friends with inconsequential people is not on his immediate to-do list. 

Jeremy Knox is slightly more interesting, if only for the fact that Kevin knows him, and according to him, he’s the only other person on Andrew’s team who has a chance of making Court. What’s more, Andrew likes to know who he’s dealing with, and the urge for leverage is one instinct he didn’t leave behind with his knives.

(Okay, so maybe he’s still a little bruised at just how many secrets Neil snuck past him.)

Still, he does his research on Knox. Raised in rural SoCal, captain of the Trojans for three years. Boring. Reputation for never getting a red card. Slightly more interesting. He hopes it isn’t insufferable morality, but that remains to be seen. He thought the same of Renee initially, and found something more substantive below. He was also a curiously private person, never indulging the press with his thoughts. He did know of the rumors that he was dating Jean Moreau, which was interesting if only because of Jean and Neil’s history. 

He may not be able to take his teammates to Columbia, but he would get the answers he sought.

Conveniently, Knox was the one who he ended up rooming with for away games, seeing as he was the only one who still made the effort to speak to Andrew. The rest had clearly decided it wasn’t worth the extra effort. The first night, he learned that Knox stayed behind in order to be available to Moreau, which was an interesting confirmation if nothing else. He was tight lipped about everything else, leading to many quiet nights, which suited Andrew fine.

His next sign that Jeremy Knox might be more interesting than he appeared came near the end of the regular season. Their game was against Dallas, notorious for having an egregious number of ex-Ravens. Andrew took slightly more enjoyment than usual blasting their shots across the court, something he knew he’d get an exuberant earful from Neil about later. For now though, his sights were on the game.

It was unusual for his teams’ strikers to find themselves anywhere near Andrew, but Jeremy and one of Dallas’ dealers had managed to stay in a lock past midfield, until a hard shove sent Jeremy sprawling across the field. Andrew could see but not hear heated words exchanged once Knox stood. Andrew watched something dark and interesting flash across Knox’s face before he reeled back and decked his mark across the face.

A hush fell over the field as one by one everyone realized that Jeremy Knox was given his first red card and left the field.

Andrew leaned against the goal, face cool and unaffected, but mind moving.

--

By the time Andrew got back to the room, Jeremy was already there, and Andrew could hear his voice through the door. He stayed quiet and opted to stay outside to listen for a bit.

“I understand that...Look, I’m sorry that I worried you, and I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m not sorry for what I did...No. I’m not going to let them say whatever they want about you. Not when I know how far you’ve-...” A deep sigh. “Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow….I love you too.”

Andrew took that as a sign of the conversation’s end and headed inside. When he did, he saw Knox sitting on his bed, looking uncharacteristically annoyed. He attempted to perk up a bit when he saw Andrew.

“Hey. Sorry to keep you out of your room.”

Andrew shrugged off the apology and set his things down before sitting and looking at him. “Moreau?”

Jeremy nodded slowly, apparently surprised that Andrew was speaking to him. “Um, yeah.He was just worried after seeing the game.”

“So it was something about him that got you to crack.”

Jeremy’s jaw worked as he tried to come up with an answer to that. “Is it that surprising?”

“Be more specific.”

“That I have a temper.”

Andrew drummed his fingers against his knees. “Not surprising. Just interesting.”

“I’m happy to amuse then,” Jeremy answered, starting to turn away.

“It just means you aren’t as boring as the rest of our teammates.”

Jeremy didn’t seem to have a response to that either, so Andrew continued. “So much for those anger management classes.”

Jeremy’s mouth twisted. “Kevin wasn’t kidding. You do your research.”

Andrew waved a hand.. “It’s important to know where to push when necessary.”

“You don’t need to push. You could try asking.”

“I don’t need to ask when your motivations are so annoyingly obvious.”

Jeremy sighed. “I meant what I said when you joined. We don’t need to be enemies. Especially considering all we have in common.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, we’re both on the wrong side of a deal we didn’t make.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched at that. “Surprised Moreau told you about that.”

“Of course he did. We’re together, so it affects me. I’d be naive to not know that I’m who they would come after if they wanted to hurt him.”

“Yet you chose him anyway.” Andrew heartily ignored the hypocrisy in his statement.

“I did. I’m too stubborn to let them tell us what we can and can’t do. At least this way I can say I didn’t run away.”

Andrew turned finally, satisfied with the answers he’d gotten tonight. He had plenty of time to learn more. 

Jeremy started turning away after a few moments of silence, only perking up when Andrew had one last thing to say.

“If you’re going to be any use, you need to learn to punch better than that.”

Jeremy smiled slightly. “Out of practice.”

Andrew hummed, effectively ending the evening’s conversation.

It was a fascinating experience for both parties.

[ryanrosshq]

june: playlists // @cityofdreamstasks​ AESTHETICS 

For my second playlist, I compiled a playlist of songs that put me in mind of Ryan. I’ve added some reasons for my choices under the read more, there are hints/mentions to drug/alcohol abuse, infidelity and illness but nothing written in detail. 

spotify playlist / tracklist and descriptions under read more

Yes Sir, I Can Boogie | The Fratellis  Baby, though I am shy by reputation, ask all your friends I’m a sensation. Try me once you’ll beg for more. Ryan has a reputation amongst his fans for being painfully shy, and those who don’t know him often think he hates fan interactions because he’s so reserved but he and people who know him have often stated that isn’t the case at all. He’s just so shy.  Shy Boy | JD McPherson  I carry such a heavy load. You know you do a lot of damage when you talk that talk, ‘cause don’t you know I’m a shy boy. I feel there’s a lot of embarrassment on his part from the behavior of certain fans he has and the way they treat him or handle his past and the people he once considered his friends. I think part of the reason he is never on the internet is because of that but also his ex manager hacked his socals once and said a bunch of awful shit and a lot of people didn’t know it wasn’t him so I think he’d just like to distance himself from the whole thing.  Fighter | Darren Criss/Glee Cast  ‘Cause if it wasn’t for all of your torture I wouldn’t know how to be this way now  Ryan’s history is, unfortunately, no secret. I know at one point he removed himself from a shitty situation. But ultimately I feel like he’s been through a lot of heartache and he still, somehow, remains kind.  Proud and Humble | Imelda May Sometimes I did good, sometimes I done wrong but I did the best I could from where I come from and I keep on trying till my day is done. He hasn’t exactly been a saint his whole life. He’s dabbled with narcotics and alcohol, he’s been unfaithful, and he’s had to live with these choices he made and somehow figure out how to turn his shame and embarrassment into something else so it doesn’t eat him up.  Mowgli’s Road | MARINA  Oh lord I have been told, that I must take the unforsaken road.  I think ultimately this song just makes me think of where Ryan was compared to where he is now. He went from a global star to someone that nobody knows? Unless you have been with Panic! since the beginning, you wouldn’t know who Ryan is and there are even still fans who don’t know he’s still actively performing because he’s never on social media to promote it.  Camisado | Panic! At The Disco Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid. Ryan wrote this song about his father from his own point of view.  It’s a deeply personal song for Ryan. Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair | Arctic Monkeys Fill in a circular hole with a peg that’s square, but just don’t sit down ‘cause I’ve moved your chair. This song represents a side of Ryan that comes out once you push through his shy exterior. The side that’s slightly cheeky and mischievous.  Tiny Riot | Sam Ryder Let’s start a tiny riot, stop being so goddamn quiet, got a spark in your heart so strike it. I think this one basically just represents Ryan’s desire to persist despite everything, especially in the music industry. He left Panic!, his next band went on hiatus and never came back, he’s been flitting from band to band, his manager at the time deleted all his music from the internet without his permission. He just wants to exist drama free, and make music.  Leave A Light On | Tom Walker I know you're down and out now, but I need you to be brave. Hiding from the truth ain't gonna make this all okay. This song makes me think of all the times Ryan had to take care of his father when he was sick.  Famous Last Words | My Chemical Romance  I am not afraid to walk this world alone  I mean the boy literally gave up his dream and risked everything for what he believed in. Say less. Free | Florence + The Machine  I’m always running from something. I push back but it keeps on coming and being clever never got me very far. Because it’s all in my head “You’re too sensitive” they said Aside from this song being my current hyperfixation, this is another one of those songs that makes me think of Ryan just wanting to exist drama free and make music. But also this specific part makes me think of how emotional he is, and how big his feelings are and how he articulates those feelings though his music. Ride A White Swan | T. Rex  Ride a white swan like the people of the Beltane, wear your hair long, babe you can’t go wrong idk green witch Ryan Ross vibes? I can’t explain this one, it just really feels like his entire aesthetic.  Grounds for Divorce | Elbow  Someday we’ll be drinking with the seldom seen kid I think really it’s just the epic guitar riff. And also that line specifically because where you at Ryan? But also the line “I’ve been working on a cocktail called grounds for divorce” because I think there might be a part of him that blames himself for his breakups even if they weren’t directly his fault.  Haven’t Been Doing So Well | Frank Turner So cut me some slack if I crawl back into my shell, I haven’t been doing so well. This one represents all the shit that’s been thrown at him from people who have stabbed him in the back and hurt him.  That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed) | Panic! At The Disco  Things have changed for me, and that’s okay Apart from Pretty.Odd being Ryan’s masterpiece, this song really just makes me think of how much Ryan has grown both in himself and as a musician since he started some 26? years ago. Season Of The Witch | Lana Del Rey And he’s strange, so strange. He’s very strange to me.  This one puts me in mind of Ryan’s witchy side, but also the fact he is a lover of Samhain and all things slightly macabre and spooky.  Dream Lover | Bobby Darin I want a dream lover so I don’t have to dream alone. I think Ryan has a lot of love to give, and from what I’ve read he is so incredibly precious with his romantic partners. He’s had quite a few partners over the years too, and some quite close together which makes me think he craves the feeling of being loved and to love someone else in return.  Goodbye | Bo Burnham So this is how it ends. I promise to never go outside again. To me this song is two things: Firstly, how he dropped off social media (likely because of how people act and how people speak to him). But also because there are certain people in the fanbase who refuse to let him break away from the past or certain relationships and that must be so exhausting. 

[cupidsintern]

the other night i cried (while thinking of having sex with you) pt. 2

((slowly but surely finishing this bad boy. see yall later for pt. 3 <3))

-

Steve had a basement. This concept was entirely alien to Billy, since you can’t really have basements in SoCal cause of like. Radiation or whatever. But also because even after the move his current house didn't have one.

This was like, kind of his first encounter with one- Steve didn't even have a normal basement. With like pipes and concrete and shit. Steve’s basement had been converted into a ‘rec room.’

“A ‘rec room’?” Billy couldn't keep a small amount of jab out of his voice. “Jesus I knew you were rich. Didn't know you were shag-carpet-in-basement rich.”

“Do you actually not have basements in California or is this like the time you tried to convince me they celebrate Christmas in the summer in Australia.”

Billy shot Steve a look- halfway to concern. “Both of those things are just facts.”

“Sure, okay, ‘facts.’”

Steve had actually given Billy a house tour when he’d showed up. Only because Billy asked, because honestly he hadn't expected the house to be so big. Steve seemed kind of abashed about it though, maybe almost uncomfortable, so like halfway through Billy just asked where they’d be hanging out- praying it would be Steve's terribly wallpapered room, knowing it wouldn't be- and Steve had said the basement. Which Billy had taken as a joke at first but actually was super into now because the basement was like, tricked out. Shag carpet, couch, one of those glass coffee tables, record player, tv, foosball table, mini fridge.

“You could live down here.” Billy cracked the beer Steve had grabbed for him- out of the aforementioned mini fridge.

“I kinda do sometimes. Upstairs is… boring.” Steve seemed like maybe he was gonna say something else and thought better of it.

Something like. Maybe. Lonely.

Billy was lonely in a house full of people. But he liked this magical basement that smelled like bricks and air freshener. Liked how the couch down here sunk when you dropped onto it and was kinda ratty at the edges- especially compared to the immaculate leather couch upstairs.

And Billy liked how much Steve seemed to like being down here- he’d never really seen Steve in a place that he seemed… comfortable in? He seemed used to most things. Like he got where he was and what to do and how to do it all the time but. He’d had this small smile since they got down here that couldn't go away, could only get brighter. It was like, a nest or something. A tiny little kingdom.

Oh and Billy liked the kettle corn. Steve had set a bowl of it out and kettle corn was Billy's favorite and Steve knew that and it was really really good so for most of the first ten minutes of the movie they'd decided on that was all Billy cared about.

They’d both already seen the movies- they decided to try and marathon all three Rocky movies and got about halfway there- so they talked over the TV a lot. But it was still fun.

Billy realized he hadn't had fun in a while. He hadn't got to like, hangout with anyone in a while.

And he really wanted this to be that- to be just fun. Just cool. Whatever.

But Steve had slid down in his spot on the couch and his knee was centimeters away from Billy’s and that was like 90% of what Billy was thinking about. Steve. Steve and how this was his house. This was his basement, his happy place. And he’d invited Billy here. Billy who was terrible to him and was just generally, pretty terrible, and Steve had invited him to his obvious happy place just to be there. With someone. Out of all the people in the world-

“I’m, uh,” Steve leaned his head down a little, rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m really glad you came over.”

Billy blinked. Didn’t respond right away. “That's like, so lame of me to say. I just. Haven't gotten to hangout here with anyone in a while.” Steve backtracked a little.

Billy shrugged, dismissing the idea, didn't understand why Steve would thank him but. “It’s cool. Me neither.” Steve’s eyes widened a little. “Really?”

“What’d you mean, ‘really’?” Billy sipped his beer for something to do other than making eye contact with Steve.

“Just. I dunno. I thought you had loads of friends.” Steve laughed a little, disbelieving. “I mean, you’re so... cool.”

Billy would have to hunt down and personally kill every single one of the butterflies in his stomach. “I am.”

Steve laughed, more natural this time. “God, and humble too.”

“You bet.” Billy smiled over his can. “... I’m really glad you invited me.”

Billy would never ever admit to liking being anywhere in Hawkins except Steve’s stupid basement. Steve inviting him over to hangout down there became such a regular thing so quickly. Billy sort of got why Steve liked being down there- no windows, sitting at the right angel you couldn't even see the stairs, but rather than feeling cramped, you just sort of felt like nothing else existed. And that was really nice. Reminded Billy of when, back home, he used to just sit on his board past the break, and rather than trying to catch any waves, face out away from the coast. Pretend it was just him in an endless sea- warm at his knees but cooler at his feet. Nothing else. No one else. Except maybe the fish. Billy liked fish- no particular reason. He just liked them.

This must have been Steve's version of that feeling though. Nothing-else-no-one-else. But he liked Billy being there- he said.

Even when Billy left, the smell of the basement carpet- which was surprisingly pleasant- clung to his clothes.

Yet more butterflies.

-

pt. 1 // pt. 3 coming soon?? hopefully???

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Hi! Never wrote an ask to someone before so I hope I'm doing this right... If you'd like, for kissing prompt, 32 or 17, krexie? Pretty please?

Don’t worry, you did perfectly re: requesting via an ask, and I’m honored to be your first ask.

17. Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

from 50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

I actually did something similar a year ago, in my not-at-all-Wizards compliant fic A Touch of Cold, which is a sequel to my fic Destiny's Pawn. This fic is gonna be an alternate point of view for A Touch of Cold.

CW: past mind control

AO3 (If you have an account, let me know and I’ll gift this to you)

FFN

Winter had been Mordred’s favorite season once. He had adored snow and the way it had covered Camelot in a beautiful white blanket. He had liked the way his breath would come out as puffs of fog, a type of magic that wizardry couldn’t quite mimic.

It isn’t his favorite season, not anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that winters in Southern California only bring harsh and bitter winds, pouring rain, and on rare occasion hail, but never snow. He’s heard from coworkers who have family from out-of-state that even though it doesn’t snow in SoCal, it’s colder here than in areas with snow. Snow is an insulator, no matter if you’re in a sixth century semi-magical castle or a twenty-first century office building. It keeps away the worst of the cold.

Except for Douxie, the worst of the cold may not even be the external cold, but rather the cold’s horrible connotation. Every time Merlin had controlled Mordred with his magic, Mordred had felt cold and numbness flooding through his body. Worse, being cold is Douxie’s most common PTSD trigger, one that even well into adulthood would drag him back to being a teenager with no choice but to do Merlin’s bidding. At least he now knows it’s a trigger, though. In his freshman year of high school, the first winter Douxie had experienced since Camlann, he had nearly destroyed his friendships because he hadn’t realized just how bad of a mental state the constant cold had put him in.

He is so thankful that Byqvist, his therapist, had survived Gunmar’s massacre of the Janus Order. He is so thankful that Strickler had reached out to Byqvist after seeing how much Jim, Douxie, and Claire had been struggling to find a therapist who actually knew how to work with victims of mind control and possession. He is so thankful that Byqvist had been willing to oblige Strickler’s request.

Douxie sighs as he parks his car in front of the house he shares with his husband. The heater is so nice in the car, and there’s a Papa Skull song playing on the radio. If he exits the car, he’s going to have neither of those things.

The song stops playing, giving way to an ad break. He sighs and turns off the engine. Time to brave the cold and all the horrors that it brings.

He walks as quickly as possible, squinting as the wind bites and batters his face and whips about his bangs. When he gets to the porch, he drops his keys and chooses to just use magic to pick up his keys and unlock the door.

Behind the door is a face that has always brought Mordred joy.

No, it hasn’t. That’s a lie and he can’t lie around Krel, whose face has brought forth other emotions. Anguish and despair upon first realizing that Krel is his soulmate, frustration whenever Krel steals the blankets (especially when he is sleeping in the form that doesn’t even feel temperature as extremely as humans do), and so many more emotions that are all worth having married Krel for.

“How was work?” Krel asks as Mordred hangs up his coat.

“Alright, though I think Gregory’s mad at me again.”

“Isn’t he always?”

“True.” Last week, it was because Douxie had fixed the printer in under ten minutes after Gregory had spent over an hour on it. And Douxie hadn’t even used magic on that fix, except pointing that out had made Gregory even more angry. “How was your day?”

“I should have made the final multiple choice. Then, I could just use campus’s scantron reader.”

“Don’t you hate using that thing? And multiple choice tests in general?” After all, every single time Krel had designed a multiple-choice test, he complained about how it told him absolutely nothing about his students aside from their guessing habits.

“But then I wouldn’t have to deal with undergrad tests.”

“Have you been grading the 225 final all day?”

“No, I caught up with the last of the homework for 476. But other than that, it’s just been 225. I didn’t expect so many of them to finish it.”

Mordred raises an eyebrow. While he trusts his husband, Douxie’s least favorite professors in college didn’t grade homework until after the exam. Hopefully Krel had at least gave his students the answer key to their homework before the final exam. Plus, what cruelty was Krel inflicting on his students, making a test too long to finish?

“I was going to curve it anyways,” Krel continues. “Given the time limit I thought they’d take their time on some problems and leave the others blank, not rush on everything.”

Krel  takes a step towards Douxie. Krel then leans his head so he can kiss Mordred. Douxie wraps his arms around Krel’s waist.

There are many things that Douxie loves about Krel’s human form. It was the first of Krel’s forms that Douxie had seen, and therefore the first form he had started crushing on. It also radiates heat instead of light. Mordred sneaks his hands underneath the hem of Krel’s shirt.

Krel yelps and pulls away. What a pity; that wasn’t the reaction Mordred had been hoping for.

“Do you,” Krel starts, then refrases.“Your hand is too cold.”

Hand. Singular.

“It can’t be that cold,” Douxie says as he moves to twist the amulet to change his prosthetic from a gauntlet to a glove. His eyes widen. “Oh. Cold. Very cold.”

Biting, burning cold. He very quickly changes it into a glove, and then stuffs the glove in his pocket. He certainly won’t be using that to stim any time soon.

“Is that my sock?” Krel asks.

“I need to run a load of laundry, so I improvised,” Douxie answers. To be fair, he doesn’t often use socks; they don’t fit properly. “I’m going to go run it before I forget; you have any darks for me to throw in?”

“I don’t think so; I made coffee. You want any?”

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp. 32

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

Masterlist

{Previous / Next }

“Bet. He’s going to beat Jaehyun up again.”

Mark rolled his eyes at Ten who spoke with certainty in the backseat of Winwin’s car as they waited for Xiaojun’s arrival at the parking lot of the airport. He turned next to him and countered, “Please. You knew him for longer than I did and you still think he’s just a violent lunatic?”

There was a pause, Ten stared at him blankly and then replied, “Yeah.”

Mark chuckled in disbelief and the two continued to argue as they placed bets on Xiaojun’s behavior upon his arrival. Behind the wheel, Winwin tried his best to ignore the two manchildren and shut his eyes for some rest before he had to start the long drive back. That was until Ten violently tapped his shoulders and begged him to take a stance. He let out a frustrated huff and turned behind his seat, “Can the both of you stop betting on every little thing already?” He continued, this time in a slightly less irritated tone, “And Mark’s right.” Ten looked back at him in a betrayed expression before Winwin clarified, “As psychotic as he may seem, he doesn’t always do things without his reasons.”

Ten’s sarcastic laughter broke out in the back seat and Winwin rolled his eyes. “Remember Jack? We can’t shame Xiaojun for being the protective brother he is when we preached him for protecting y/n from people like that douche.”

Mark and Ten nodded in unison as they came to realization and Winwin continued to justify, “It’s true that we know Jaehyun is a good man who will never hurt y/n like that but then again, Xiaojun wasn’t around here to see how Jaehyun cared for her or how he always placed his friends’ needs over his.” 

A moving shadow in Ten’s peripheral vision caught his attention as his eyes widen. He turned back to his two friends and whisper-shouted, “Oh my god, everybody shut up. Speaking of the devil, he’s here.”

He tried his best to act casual as the figure moved closer to their car with a heavy luggage cart. Mark and Winwin shook their heads at Ten who acted anything but normal, sprawled across the backseat as if he was asleep. The two left their odd friend to play pretend as they casually greeted Xiaojun and helped load his large luggage into the trunk. 

Mark grunted as he tried his best to pick up the last suitcase and forcefully shoved it into the small, empty space left in the formerly spacious trunk. “Shit man, since when did you have this much stuff with you? Don’t you usually just carry a backpack and a guitar case?”

Xiaojun chuckled at the struggling man as Winwin slung an arm around Xiaojun’s shoulders and walked him to the passenger seat. When everyone settled back into the car, he let out a relieved sigh. “It’s nice to see everyone in one place.” He turned to Ten and raised his eyebrow, “Since when did you want to come back to Korea? I thought you hated it here.”

Ten suddenly jolted out of his sleeping position, as if the three men didn’t already know he was faking a nap, and responded immediately in a victimized tone. “Since your little sis needed help. I mean I do hate it here and LA is so much better,” he emphasized the last words as he continued with his hands dramatically placed on his heart, “But who am I to ignore a friend in help when I know I’m more than capable of laying success wherever I go?”

Xiaojun rolled his eyes and then proceeded to talk to Winwin as he started the car. “So Winwin why’d you come back to Korea?”

Mark’s laughter shook the moving vehicle as Ten dramatically complained about being ignored and Winwin replied amusingly, “Well I’m not as self-centered as the boy in the backseat, but I did come here to help y/n as well. The company was short on models and any employees for that matter, so we, along with Soojin, took the earliest flight back to the place that kickstarted our career.”

The car stopped at a red light and he turned to Xiaojun with sincere eyes, “After all, without y/n, the three of us would have never made it big in the SoCal modeling industry.” 

Xiaojun shared a knowing smile, “Baby sis did always have a gift at capturing and marketing models. Even back when she was just a freelance photographer.”

Before Mark and Ten could throw a warning glare at Winwin, he proceeded to ask Xiaojun with a hesitant caution, “You know bro, Jaehyun’s company really helped y/n flourish. Not only as a photographer, but an entrepreneur.”

Xiaojun gave an indifferent expression and Winwin continued to speak with his eyes on the road as the light turned green, “Y/n told me how the SM internship gave her an eye-opening experience into the photography world and even right now, as a CEO of a fashion and modeling company. There were some bumps in the road, but she never once regret meeting Jaehyun and finding such a great opportunity for her future.”

Xiaojun didn’t respond to his praises of her efforts. Instead, he quickly changed the subject as he scanned the roads in front of him. “Let’s stop by y/n’s place first. I ought to tell her I’m here.”

Winwin silently obeyed as they continued down the road with a “calm before the storm” tension that filled the car. He pulled up to the street of luxurious penthouses and parked at a vacant spot in the underground parking lot. The moment his car’s engine died down, Xiaojun quickly got off the passenger seat and into the elevator lobby. The two men followed behind cautiously while Mark subtly sneaked in a text to y/n to give a heads up that the big, bad wolf would be coming up.

~~~

“I’m moving in with you two.”

You, Mark, and Winwin stared in shock at Xiaojun’s sudden notice. Ten chocked on his glass of water in the kitchen while Jaehyun sat beside you on the couch with an unreadable expression. He sat with his hands intertwined underneath his chin to prop it up as if he was planning the move in already. You tilted your face towards him and slightly nudged his arm. “You’re not really thinking about letting my brother stay here are you?” You whispered at your boyfriend through gritted teeth.

Jaehyun calmly replied to Xiaojun with a serious tone, “I’ll be more than happen to let you stay here.” He then turned towards you and asked, “You’re fine with that right baby?” You stared at your boyfriend dumbfounded and gave up. “I mean, even if I say no,” you turned to your brother with an annoyed expression, “it doesn’t seem like he will listen to me.”

Xiaojun stared back at you with a smirk and clapped his hands together, “Great! I’m heading down to bring my luggage.” Ten, Mark, and Winwin all got up, ready to help him before he stopped them with a smile. “You boys already drove me all the way here. Just relax. I’ll take Jaehyun with me.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother who acted as if everyone was at his beck and call. To your surprise, Jaehyun did not hesitate to get up immediately. He gave you a reassuring smile and headed out the door with Xiaojun.

You sighed, exhausted, as the three boys plopped beside you on the large couch. You zoned out as they bickered about the odd happenings of the past hour and started making weird bets.

~~~

“Any more suitcases?”

Xiaojun shook his head and slammed the trunk closed. He narrowed his eyes at Jaehyun as he swung the guitar case over his shoulders. Xiaojun immediately grabbed the case from him and warned, “Be careful. This instrument shouldn’t be flung carelessly like that.”

Jaehyun apologized immediately, “Sorry, I’ve actually never moved luggage before. But there was that one time I helped y/n carry her photography equipment.” He shook his head and chuckled at the memory, “But she scolded me even harsher than you for not being careful with the cameras.”

Xiaojun unconsciously laughed at the image, “That sounds like my baby sis alright.”

He then quickly wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with a serious expression. He stepped closer to Jaehyun with a dark expression, “Jaehyun. Listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.” Jaehyun nodded out of instinct as his body stiffened unconsciously. “You are one very lucky man to have all of y/n’s heart. And even after all the shit you have caused, I’m willing to go easy on you since you’ve took time to fly me back here and let me move in.” Xiaojun raised his pointer finger at Jaehyun and harshly reminded him, “But you’ve broken the only promise I require of you and you better show me you can amend it.”

As if it was even possible, Jaehyun stiffened his posture even more and quickly accepted his commands. Xiaojun fixed the guitar case behind his back and proceed to walk forward to the lobby. Once they got on the elevator, he informed Jaehyun in a firm tone, “From this moment onward, I better see how much you are willing to sacrifice for my sister.”

———

[creativitybeware]

Some Top Gun:Maverick Headcanon

Most of these I have thought of for some time so forgive me if these are *outlandish*

Hondo, Warlock, Coyote and Payback are all in D9 Fraternities. Hondo is an old school Que while Warlock is an Alpha. They both began talking one day and spoke about their affiliations and the likes. When the youngins come in, those two see the paraphernalia they have and take them under their wings. Coyote is a Que. NO ONE CAN CHANGE THAT. Payback is a Kappa (he has the shoulders). If anything he may be an Iota (I’m being biased on this one lol). To extend off of this, Hondo is married to an AKA while Warlock is married to a Delta/ SGRho. They take the boys in whenever and give whatever advice/ comfort they need since they are black pilots in Top Gun. And you know they’ve strolled on base. And as someone who’s mom is an AKA and has been raised around D9s all my life, this has been a true thing on my mind.

Ever think that Coyote would have been a solid wingman to Mav compared to Rooster? Like, yes he’s best friends with Hangman but he’s more level headed and focused IMO. For plot? Yes Rooster but he’s hardheaded. For angst? Yes Hangman but he’s get too caught up his own ass. But really, Coyote could have been better. Especially the way he works with Phoenix and Bob? It’s totally there.

I have the biggest problem of most of these pilots playing football in denim. They better get them 5” inseam shorts and deal with them. Hell, Bob too. Show off them thighs men. Y’all in SoCal. Rooster pissed me off in them cutoff jorts. At least Coyote has full coverage with the jeans.

Deadass, they needed a black female pilot there. Halo, Phoenix and homegirls who has her part clean? Knowing good and well she’ll sneak a scarf under her helmet just because? Do I have any knowledge about the Navy outside of what I know? Hell no. But most definitely she’ll be fucking great. (This was just for me cause us black women are great. Duh.)

Hondo and Warlock stepped up to be the big brothers Maverick needed. Similar to how they treat Javy and Reuben, they treat him as their own. Lowkey, he knows about all the tea going down in the D9 orgs and has been to a plethora of homecomings, step shows and Greek picnics. He definitely has shirts from said events too. Coyote and Payback have a unique relationship with Mav as Hondo and Warlock wrangled them up.

When they got on radar the F-14 and Hondo’s head raised up, he really said in his head “I know this nigga lyin”. Warlock had the same thought but said it professionally.

When Roos and Mav had to land and Hondo was down there on the tarmac, he knew he had to bring his boy home. He had a pep talk to his crew before had and probs cussed them out if they made one mistake. Warlock and Cyclone had said some words too to co-sign what Hondo said.

Phoenix, Bob and Coyote have a unique friendship now after their target practice. All three had an experience that was hella scary and you bet he went to see them in the infirmary that night. He probably fell asleep there too. Hangman asked where he was and probs had to think about it. But they’re the best of friends that no one expected to happen. These three have a group chat and it’s the cutest thing ever. I expect trips to amusement parks and things like that. If the whole Dagger squad traveled together (which I do expect) they’d go on their merry way and find cool things to do.

Amelia and Rooster had to have a conversation especially since they’re siblings now (it makes sense). Roos finds out how wicked smart she is and can clap back quick as fuck (you’re still a captain? She murked Mav with that one). And Amelia….she knows that he’s book smart and not street smart. Big head empty thoughts type of moment(s). But those two together are the best pair. She’ll have to teach him some comebacks to help him out

- [ ] I want a convo between Halo and Phoenix. They’re the only women on the mission and you know they have shit to talk about. You know they have a rank list of all the men based on pure interaction (nothing sexual). Here’s how it goes. 1. Bob 2. Fanboy and Packback (they stay a pair) 3. Coyote (if he didn’t hang out with Hangman that much he may be ranked 1.5) 4. Hangman and Fritz (Fritz is at 4 because I LOVE Manny Jacinto and we didn’t get more of him) 5.Omaha, Yale

Not only did Pete get talks to by Carol, Iceman too. I feel Iceman would have said no to pulling his papers and would have let him fly but respected Carol’s wishes. Mav had to convince him to have his papers pulled and there’s something we may never know that was spoken in between the lines.

ALSO, Fanboy, if he was in in a D9, he’d be a Kappa…let me dream ok?

Let me know your thoughts. These are things that I thought of at the spur of the moment. I’m curious about everyone else.