#every time I hear this song i just think of her

[usuallydyinginside]

"No One Mourns the Wicked" is about Glinda, not Elphaba

Okay, but hear me out. Wicked songs are so good at saying one thing and meaning something entirely different once you have more context. For instance, "I'm Not That Girl" is Elphaba singing about Glinda initially, then in Act 2 flips to Glinda singing about Elphaba. Because it turns out, Elphaba IS that girl and Glinda is not. When we meet the Wizard, he sings about how he always wanted to be a father. When you get to Act 2, you get the sad little reprise in the background music as he realizes that WHOOPS, he was one and he destroyed his only kid. "Defying Gravity" starts with "I hope you're happy" in the sarcastic sense and ends with them both using the same phrase to genuinely wish one another well.

"Thank Goodness" is set up as a cheerful engagement song where Glinda genuinely means "thank goodness for how great my life is" and ends in a place where she's insisting that she IS happy even as she realizes her engagement is a sham, her best friend is gone, and she's left with the Wizard and Madame M, who she doesn't even like.

You get the picture.

Basically, the whole musical is about subverting what you expect, starting with the base premise of "what if the Wicked Witch was the hero of the story" and digging in from there.

Honestly, I'd never paid much attention to the first song. It's a good opener, sets things up well, but it has some big competition with later songs. However, in the movie the staging and camera choices made me really notice it for the first time. Because you know what? Someone DID pay attention to that song, and you can really really tell.

For those who need a refresher, the lyrics to the chorus Glinda sings are: And Goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked die alone It just shows when you're Wicked You're left only On your own I was always so busy noticing Glinda's grief over thinking Elphaba was genuinely dead that I failed to notice Glinda's grief over her OWN fate. The movie did such a good job with this because every time we get to the pink lines about being alone, Glinda IS alone. She is standing apart from the crowd who adores her. Standing above them. Standing at the center of a bunch of people yet still, isolated.

Because in the end, we know that Elphaba DIDN'T die alone. We know she wasn't on her own. We know her life WASN'T lonely ultimately. She had her flying monkey and animal friends. She had Fiyero.

And who does Glinda have?

Everyone, but realistically, no one. She is an ideal, not a person to most of Oz, just as much as Elphaba has become the token scapegoat. Where Elphaba is the "Wicked Witch," Glinda is "Glinda the Good Witch" - she is literally supposed to be the embodiment of goodness.

And what does Glinda have at the end of this whole thing (as of this song at least)? A disastrous end to her engagement, the death of her best friend, a sorceress who has hated her, demeaned her, and dismissed her from the start, and a con man who is also just a symbol more than a person.

I think it really hit me when Glinda throws the fire on the giant effigy of Elphaba. Ariana's acting was SO good there, because I'd expected us to see that private moment of horror or regret. What I didn't expect was the sort of determined and almost angry glare at the effigy.

But it makes sense. At this point, Glinda has realized that she lost everything and everyone she actually cared about.

As she so aptly puts it in "Thank Goodness"...

Though it is, I admit The tiniest bit Unlike I anticipated. But I couldn't be happier, Simply couldn't be happier, Well, not "simply" 'Cause getting your dreams It's strange, but it seems A little, well, complicated.

There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get lost. There are bridges you cross You didn't know you crossed Until you've crossed!

And if that joy, that thrill Doesn't thrill like you think it will Still-- With this perfect finale, The cheers and the ballyhoo! Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true.

Well, isn't it?

Happy is what happens when you're dreams come true.

It's not Elphaba's fault that Glinda has ended up this way. Glinda chose it every step of the way. Yet, if Glinda had never met Elphaba, (if she'd never known her, you could say), she might have stayed shallow and vain. She might never have been challenged to look deeper and realize how empty it all felt.

So as Glinda sings "No One Mourns the Wicked," she realizes that even if the Munchkins are singing about the "Wicked Witch," she's not.

She's singing about herself.

The one who traded her morals, friendship, and love for a taste of the admiration and power over those who don't really know her. The one who was so worried about being likable that she herself doesn't like who she's become.

Even after she makes things better for Oz and herself by sending the wizard away and getting rid of Madame M, it just leaves Glinda by herself as the leader and source of goodness in Oz. It leaves her on a pedestal she can never step off of.

It leaves her lonely.

Entirely alone.

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

[meelusinee]

AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.

pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader tags: band!au, mostly fluff word count: 2.6k warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)

author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 

(divider)

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

[eerna]

Also what’s weird about arcanes writing this season is that it made no sense. It literally wrote misery for the sake of misery (killing isha for example just to make jinx suicidal) yet kept its happier tone shift? So many negative developments were framed as positive and not a tragedy, which I wouldn’t have liked it more if it Was framed as tragic bc again it felt like they were writing misery porn atp, but at least the tone would’ve been consistent. Like they abandoned the fact it had a tragic tone but still ended it on a tragic note except it’s not framed that way. SO WEIRD.

Also the amount of parallels and full circle moments that just didn’t make sense. They really thought if they wrote parallels or full circle moments it’s somehow makes it good writing without putting any thought into if doing so makes any sense (like the caitvi jail scene or ambessa invoking the wolf flashback and then calling Mel a wolf meant to be positive💀) But we are supposed to be happy bc ummm all the popular ships are canon I guess.

Also, on a sillier note, I couldn’t stop thinking about that arcane tweet about the music being too on the nose shdjajfbksfn it took me out so many scenes, especially the bad ones like caitvi sex scene and jinx “death.” I did like the music this arc, there were some really good ones, but every time I thought a scene was already bad a song would come on and narrate it to me and it would kill me.

YEAHHHHHH it is very tonally inconsistent and the parallels for the sake of parallels are super obvious.... The song part is so true fbdjsafk. I think hearing a basic sex pop song in the sex scene snapped something within me (IT EVEN MENTIONED AMERICA JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER BASIC SEX POP SONG). My personal favorite was Jinx' suicide song just saying she wants to die over and over again, and then when Vi is holding her dangling over an abyss, the song said "LET ME GO LET ME GO" as if it's some kind of a full circle moment that everything has been leading up to and I just started laughing honestly

[accio-victuuri]

goodnight song is what we thought it would be and more 🌙

even before this was fully released, we already had expectations and clowning related to it. and a line from this song was the first real clue we had that the rumored album was actually true. so cpn aside, this track will always be special. there is an official explanation to this song and everyone is free to keep it that way because it’s a perfectly good message that goes well with the entire album. however, as with all other kinds of art, it is up for interpretation. and who’s to say there aren’t alternative meanings. it’s not like he can publicly say that oh, this is about the loml. anyway, while i was reading through some reactions to it i found one that perfectly describes it:

There is not a word about love, but every sentence is filled with love. Every word in the lyrics is a clear love story that people who know can understand at a glance.

and that’s the beauty of this song. it doesn’t have love in big bold letters but to those of us who have paid attention for years, we can see it.

so what did we see? …..

let’s look at the lyrics. 📝

Using a bowl of noodles, a bowl of soup

To flush away this piece of sorrow that warms the heart

Thinking again of her, or of him

Just think of it as an after-meal refreshment

i was already freaking out with the first line! sure, you can say he is talking about a comfort food that makes him less lonely but then the next part goes that he is thinking of someone. who could it be? who was the someone who nagged him to eat noodles? not only that, the same person who always asked him to eat well? YIBO.

i think this is common knowledge by know. the infamous wonton noodles. even his solos cannot deny what they saw in the cql bts. even in lrlg, this is a usual scenario.

🟢 "I'll cook noodles for you"

🟢 “Get off the car and eat noodles”

🟢 "Mom said, when you come back, let me cook noodles for you."

🟢 "I'll cook noodles for you. Where can you eat your first meal if you're not at home?"

yibo making sure that xz is eating well and vice versa. as a cpf, this is one of those clues that made me side-eye their relationship. it’s not even the fact that wyb made sure he eats cause any friend can do that — but the lengths he would go to make sure xz did. it was different.

and now xz gave his answer of how he saw that. in this first line alone. it warmed his heart. it was and is an act of love in it’s most basic form 🥹🥹🥹🥹

i also feel like this is a case of if you know, you know. if that first line didn’t hit you in the head then no amount of explanation will.

Don't be too pessimistic; need to try to become habituated sooner or later

The one left behind has no choice but to bear it

A 'good night' left for my past

this to me is him having to get used to the distance from a lover because of his work. but they have no choice but to bear it and try to live through it by the good night from the last time they met/spoke.

How many people, must take how many corners

Before being able to find their other half

Don't retreat, seeing your single-mindedness

Is able to disperse my anxieties

xz acknowledges how hard it is to find your soulmate. your twin flame. and most likely, harder to keep it. but as explained here, that person’s single mindedness or maybe you can say that person’s devotion towards him is enough to soothe his anxieties.

when you hear single mindedness or maybe single minded focus, doesn’t that remind you of yibo? and i love how cpfs went back on how persistent yibo was when it comes to xz (evidenced by mostly cql bts). some saw it as being a gremlin or him being a naive boy with a crush but clearly xz was comforted by it. most likely even now. as yibo said, what he decided when he was 21, he will continue on till 81. that level of commitment to xz is what he needs to drive away the anxieties.

Using a short phrase, a bowl of food

To take away the entire night's loneliness

Time to stop speaking, the sun's about to rise

Thank you for the warmth you gifted me

Thank you for the 'good night' you gifted me

there we go with the sunrise again 🌄 and love and affection equated with warmth.

this is a really sweet way to describe love. it’s not about someone being with you at night but one who can take away the loneliness with just a good night. no kiss. no hugs. nothing barely physical mentioned. but something as simple as a good night. that at the end of a long exhausting day, or whatever happens, he has that someone who will wish him a good night.

i’m gonna cry 😭😭😭😭😭

and oh someone pointed out that the lyrics, you can see Y & B. YIBO. what a coincidence!

-END.

P.S: feel free to interpret this song however you want. this post is not a space to argue about what other meaning it could have. if you want the official meaning, his team already released that. there is no point in debating or trying to convince me of whatever. this post is on the cpf side so if that’s not you, why are you even reading this post lol.

[nieceeee]

"VIDEO PHONE"

P/S: Gojo was more reserved about his personal life than most people. From the outside he was a standup guy. Mostly quiet to those who didn't know him. He kept his head low, his grades high, and his mouth closed. But Gojo had a very nasty secret. Because deep in his mansion, with his doors bolted shut Gojo has an obsession. One that just happens to be the melanated girl that sits in front of him in class. He never spoke to you in public but the thoughts he had about you in private would make a porn star blush. But Gojo failed to realize one little thing. You knew exactly who your favorite streamer was, it was only a matter of time until you addressed him about it...

WC: 2.7K

A/N: SMUT MINORS DNI, nerd gojo x camgirl reader, use of pet names, p in v, black coded, semi-stalker gojo (he lurks her camgirl page basically) video sex, masturbation, they're in grad school. all dat yadayada

Satoru Gojo was a paradox. 

Two sides of the same coin. A mirror some may say. 

To the outside world he was Satoru Gojo. Head of the Gojo clan. A man of restraint and a decorum. The picture perfect reputation in every category - grades, looks, social status. Nothing seemed to phase him and nothing could break him. His quiet yet nerdy exterior of silence seemingly impenetrable. Professors adored him, women coveted him, men loathed him. But nothing. Nothing could break him. 

If they only knew.

The deep dark secret that Gojo kept well hidden. One that was exposed only to the privacy of the four walls of his bedroom in his mansion. A secret so dark and twisted, it kept him awake at night. Heart racing with anticipation, mind drowning in lust, body littered in sin. And it was all centered around you. 

You.

The girl that drove his obsessions. His cute classmate who sat a row in front of him. Always dressed in the cutest outfits with your bold hair and pink outfits. Shirts always a little too short, exposing the skin of your lower back when you sat up in your seat. Gojo never spoke to you but that didn't mean he didn't think of you.

Oh how he thought of you.

Gojo hid it well. The way you tortured him. Masked underneath an ever-so-calm facade. Gojo couldn’t help himself. The more he watched you, the more obsessed his thoughts became. He had this thing. Not a kink, but just a…thing when it came to a specific type of woman. A woman who appeared so innocent but her power and confidence radiated through her skin. A woman who was assertive, oozing dominance yet still subtly submissive. A woman like you. 

You would be his undoing, the very thing to unravel his perfectly sculpted figure. 

It started off so innocent. He walked into class and noticed you sitting there. Hair freshly braided and tossed to one side, a headphone in one ear and a school girl skirt that cut a centimeter too high. He watched you focus, always sharp, always confident. A boisterous laugh and infectious smile. The first time you spoke to him was when you were passing back a paper. Your freshly manicured nails slipped him his test. “Great job” you whispered as you held it out for him to take. You voice flowing through his eardrums smooth as molasses, sending a warm coating down him body. You were a breath of fresh air. A sweet song serenading him and he wanted to get lost in you. He was so wrapped up in your eyes that he completely missed what you had said. You tilt your head a bit in confusion. “Gojo?” you say. How he wished he could hear you say his name again. “Y-yeah.” he stammers. “Your paper?” you say motioning down to your hand. “Oh! I-I…sorry.” he quickly pulls the paper from you, catching it on your finger and slicing into your skin. “Shit.” you say softly pulling your hand back. “I..I’m sorry.” he repeats lifting his bag and digging through it for his first aid kit. He pops open the plastic container and hands you a bandaid. “S-sorry.” he drops his head. You open your mouth to speak but the bell rings and he darts from his seat before you get the chance. 

The next day was nerve wrecking, how could he face you. His steps were heavy as made his way into class that day. You were already seated. You looked up to acknowledge him but he averted your gaze, still embarrassed from the day before. “Hey you.” a voice says to him during a class breakout session. His eyes widen. “I’m really sorry about yesterday.” he blurts out. You giggle at him. “Gojo. It's fine. It was just a little paper cut. See.” you hold up your hand and press your lips against your finger. “All better. Kissed it better.” You smile as you turn back around. 

Heat flushed across Gojo’s face as his mind dove into that deep dark tunnel that he tries so hard to keep hidden. Your lips. A simple gesture but the way his mind warped reality into seeing them wrapped around the head of his dick make his face burn red. 

This was all his fault. 

She has no clue he groans to himself. 

That image burned into his mind as he went throughout the day, quickly racing home to his room. Bolting himself inside. He tossed his bookbag into the abyss and rushed to his laptop. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.” he groans. He types as fast as his fingers would allow, loading up his private browser. 

Those lips.

He pulled up your page. hi$f@vebunniii_ Images loaded and it took everything in him not to release right there. Your image flooded his screen. Photos. Videos. All of you. His obsession. His muse. He clicked your most recent upload. Lips pursed and pressed against the bandaid from yesterday, Rihanna: Kiss It Better playing in the background, caption reading “Got a little scratch today, who wants to kiss it better for me?” Another groan left his lips.

That was his bandaid. 

Sick, twisted and lustful, his hand slips into his pants, gently stroking himself to your photo. His eyes flutter shut and he hears your voice again. “A-aah…” he whimpers as he strokes himself faster. Bright white lights blind his vision at the images of you before his release oozes from his tip. “Oh fuck y/n” he cries out. His head falls back, chest heaving. You had no clue what you had started. 

And that was just the beginning.

Before long. Gojo was scouring the web for your content. Photos. Videos. Live chats. Anything he could find to see you. He nights obsessing over you, fucking his hand into overstimulation at the thought of you. 

It was wrong. You were his peer. His classmate. You sat right in front of him. 

But he couldn’t stop. 

Behind his hidden page, he subbed to you. Your highest donor and most frequent viewer.

The woman who lit his fantasies was his sweet classmate who knew nothing of his perverse thoughts about her. 

So he thought…

But you. The smart girl that you are. You figured it out a long time ago. It started with the frequency of his appearance in your streams. The cryptic 6ix_blue!3y3s user who would watch your stream from beginning to end. Always quiet in chats but never one to shy away from donations. 

He was obvious. 

The cute white haired boy in your class who threw subtle glances at you throughout the lectures. Whose eyes lingered longer than they should at your low cut tops and too high skirt. Who could never fully face your right after a stream, head always held down. And when you did get his attention. Oh, the way he turned red at your interactions. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together. Anyone else may not have caught on so easily.

But you? You knew.

You knew how to read people. You’d watched him intensely. You weren't blind. You weren't naive. The way he looked at you was familiar. A hunger he tried to bury deep within himself but one gentle touch and his chest began to rise and fall at a rapid pace. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. The way he looked at you sent something electric through your veins, a type of heat that you couldn’t ignore. The same heat you’d been chasing every time he joined your stream late at night. The one where Gojo Satoru, would send donations but never message in the chat—always lurking, always watching.

You knew who exactly who he was. You knew it was him. He never gave it away on stream, but the way he would try to hide his identity with those random, cryptic responses when you did get him to speak made it clear. That was the reason for the bandaid photo. A little experiment of yours to see if he would crumble. And that he did. Eyes darting away from you every chance he could, unable to speak, nervous glances in your direction. Yeah, you knew. The notorious Gojo Satoru, with his perfect grades, his “innocent” charm, and the eyes that followed you like a shadow.

And yet, here he was, still pretending to be just another sweet face in the classroom. Still pretending that you didn’t know what his secret was. That you didn’t know what kind of fantasies he had when he was alone, tucked away in the darkness of his mansion.

But it was about time you brought the dark to the light

That night you set up the stream, an energy bubbled beneath your skin. You checked yourself over again. Braids pulled into pigtails, light blue cotton crop top just barely covering your chest, skimpy white silk bottoms and knee high socks. You pulled your knee to your chest and the screen went live. He was one of the first to appear. You held in the smile playing at your lips. 

It was time to confront him, to rid yourself of the tension that had been building for weeks between your two. You wanted to see how far you could push him. 

You converse in the chat here and there. Speaking to everyone. He popped in every now and again. Then you put your plan in motion. 

“Oh guys I didn't get to tell you about my cute classmate today.” you say setting the bait. On the other side of the world on another screen, Gojo was walking back into his room, snacks in hand, your stream pulled up. He almost dropped everything when the words cute classmate came out your mouth. He rushed back over to his screen nearly tripping in the process. 

“...He’s so fucking cute. I just want to eat him up. Ah, gojo.. The things you make me feel.” you voice says through the laptop and his heart feels like it will burst from his chest. “Me?” he says aloud to no one. You go on raving about him. 

“Oh and I can only imagine how big it is. You know they say the quiet nerdy boys are usually the freakiest” you say directly into the camera. He couldn't believe it. There was no way you were talking about him. It wasn't possible. But here you were going on and on. You knew he was there on the other side, he had stopped messaging in the chat. Maybe too stunned to speak. You smirk to yourself. “Tonight, I’m dedicating this stream to my sexy ass classmate Gojo Satoru.” you say. “Oh fuck…” he whimpers. You slide back from your seat and reposition your camera. “Let’s see how pretty and wet Gojo makes her tonight, hmm?” you say as you undress. Gojo’s mouth drops open.

You take your time undressing yourself before walking over and sitting on your bed, breast poked out and legs spread, clad in only your thin lace panties. You hand slips down your body and onto your clit, circling slowly. Gojo’s eyes were glued to his laptop as the circular motion mesmerized him. You pull a small vibrator out from behind you and switch it on. The buzzing sound rings in his ears.  The vibrations provided automatic stimulation as it rustled against your panties. A small cry of pleasure slipped from your lips as your head tilted back. “Shit.” he gasped, his hands quickly making work of removing his pants. He lubes himself up and starts to stroke his dick, his eyes still glued to where the vibrator met your panties. 

You used the tip of the vibrator to slide the fabric to the side, exposing yourself to the cool air. “Fuck Gojo.” you groan aloud into the camera. He whimpers, goosebumps trailing his skin. His eyes stayed laser focused on you. “Doesn’t she look pretty?” you whine. He nods into nothingness in his room between strokes. “So pretty” he responds knowing you can’t hear him. 

You quickly sit up and remove the panties. “Now let’s have some real fun.” You increase the speed on the vibrator before spitting on it to get it wet. Gojo moans aloud as he watches you take the vibrating silicone and slip it inside your tight walls, already clenching around it. The squelching from your juices filling the air and ringing in his ears as you pump it in and out of your walls. Gojo matches your speed, tugging at himself as his breath gets choppier. Both rooms echoing with your arousals as you purr his name and he moans yours. Each of you living out your own fantasy. 

You feel your climax nearing so you increase the speed, adding pressure to your clit with your other hand. “Fuck Toru, I’m gong to cum.” you whine, back arching from the bed. “Please. Please.” he whines aloud, hoping none of his servants were walking his quarters. Your orgasm crashed into you like a wave as you ride it out. 

“Shit…m’fuck.” Gojo whines as he shoots his release out, splashing all over his lap, cum hitting his screen.

You take a few moments to collect yourself before gently cleaning up. “Well, I hope you all had as much fun as I did.” you say with a smile. Your chat floods with thank yous and responses until one by one they leave, leaving just you and Gojo. He, on the other side, trying to clean up the mess he made. “And Gojo, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in class.” you say before signing off. His eyes widen at your message but the stream has ended before he can chat back.

“Oh shit.” he lets out. 

You knew. 

The next day, you sat in your chair patiently waiting for him to enter the classroom. As soon as he stepped through the door, his eyes were on you. That familiar red hue brushes across his face as he approaches you. “Good morning Toru.” you say sweetly. He tries to suppress it but a little groan slips from his chest. You press your lips together to keep from smiling. Throughout class he tries his best to focus on anything but you. But each time he looked at you, flashes from the night before play in his mind and he feels his dick hardening underneath his desk. 

When the bell rings you pack up and head out of class. He opens his mouth to speak but you’re up before he gets a chance. After a quick beat, he stuffs everything in his bag and runs after you. “W-wait..” he calls down the hall. Passerby eyes raise at his actions. The notorious Satoru Gojo, coming undone. 

He catches up with you quickly, chest rising and falling. “Yes, Gojo?” you say innocently. “I-...uh, I, fuck..”  He expresses. You step closer pressing your chest into his, looking up into his eyes, “Yes. Toru.” you say softly. “You…uh.. I’m..” he tries to find the words to say it. How can he? The kogs in his mind spin as he tries to find a respectful way to say what you already knew. You motion for him to come closer. He leans down as you cup a hand around his ear and whisper, “Did you enjoy your stream Toru?” He gasps, hands instinctively coming up and gripping your waist. 

His jaw clenches as he tries to collect himself. You meet his gaze again. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” he says breathlessly. Your heart raced as you respond, knowing full well what you were doing to him. "You think I don’t know?" You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your eyes pierce into his blue ones. "I’ve been watching you just as closely as you’ve been watching me." you say softly. 

His eyes widen at your confession. “The question is… are you going to keep watching or are you ready to play?” you challenge. His adam’s apple throbs as he swallows, processing your words slowly. 

“I..” he takes his time. You wait patiently. Arms wrapped around him still. He takes a deep breath before pulling your body flush to him.

“Let’s play.”

[meracyn]

hi can you please write a one shot of kwon x fem! reader who has strict parents and one day kwon helps her escape her house to go with him? tysm if you do this!

TRAPPED || kwon jae-sung

a/n: ok guys by tomorrow im gonna be editing these posts and make them actually worth looking at, no lazing off this time 😭 but i like this idea actually. ive heard some songs that would relate to a scenario like this, whoever you are anon, ur a genius fr

The tension in your house was unbearable.

Your parents, being both professionals, always pushed you to meet their expectations. They barely gave you freedom, let alone make your own choices as you grew up.

It felt so suffocating, so tiring. You were so sure you would end up going crazy any day by now.

What kind of parents were so strict they always had to monitor every. single. thing of their child’s life?

Yours.

And that was why you couldn’t wait to escape.

The night was thick with silence, creating a heavy atmosphere. You laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling before turning your head to the side, where the window was.

The moon hung low in the sky— a soft, silvery glow adorning the rows of houses underneath. You got up slowly, careful not to wake your parents. The walls were pretty thin, which only made it more difficult for you to have privacy, as they could hear almost every little thing you would do.

As you got closer, you opened it. The cool, chilly air embracing your body as the breeze played with your hair.

Outside your window, the world was silent. The leaves swayed gently on the trees, the streetlights being dim and faint in the distance, barely cutting through the darkness.

You began to think. About your future, your parents, and your boyfriend,

Kwon Jae-Sung.

It seemed impossible to get into a relationship due to your overbearing parents, but you managed somehow, and haven’t gotten caught so far– which made it the perfect reason to leave.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rush of adrenaline clashing with the quiet serenity of the night. Would it be worth the risk? Leave behind your future, your goals, everything just for some silly romance?

Every step you took felt like glass so fragile, that with one little mistake, would break.

You focused again on the scenery outside, just beyond the houses, staring at the open gate in front of you. So close, yet so far away at the same time.

The night seemed to be endless, full of possibilities—if you just took another step.

And you did.

Cautiously going back to your bed, you picked up your phone, just as you received a new message—it was him.

I’m outside. Can you get out on your own or need help?

Stay there. Your fingers quickly tapped the screen. I can manage

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Grabbing your bag and shoes on, you took a deep breath and began to climb out the window, heartbeat pounding in your ears with each movement you took. You held onto a nearby tree before stepping down, finally touching the ground.

Without bothering to look back, you ran away.

Kwon was standing outside of the car, a smile forming on his face as he noticed you.

“You made it,” He said softly, holding onto your hand as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t know what the hell is going to happen now,” You blurted out, having mixed feelings between anxiety and excitement.

“I told you I’d get you out. ” He whispered, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. “And I will.”

As you both got in the car, Kwon started the engine, driving away. You looked back at your house one last time.

For the first time in years, you finally felt free.

[cherryswisherz]

triggered

jana x oc

warnings: oc is going through a breakup

get it the fuck together jaz. lock. in. 

staring into the mirror, i study every aspect of my face. my curls flow down my back. my face is beat to perfection. the jewelry i have on costs more than my rent. 

i should be ecstatic.

i'm living every girls dream. 

there are 5000 people outside this bathroom door, chanting my name, waiting for me to give them memories they'll die with. 

and yet i'm in here, staring at myself, fighting the urge to say fuck this shit and go home. 

my phone dings, and i ignore it, thinking it's my manager, telling me i need to haul ass and get on stage. 

but then it dings again. 

holly never texts twice. 

i pull out my phone and it's paige. 

i forgot she's here. 

paigey be you. be great.

oh fuck her for that. 

now i have  to go on. 

with a sigh, and a quick tune up in the mirror, i open the door, march to the stage entrance and wait for my que. 

the music starts and i walk with all the confidence i can muster and smile at the deafening screams of my name. 

jazmin! jazmin! jazmin!

paige is front and center, with all her teammates and azzi. 

i used to be the number one pazzi shipper. i fought for this relationship to happen. i practically shoved paige out of the closet myself so that she and azzi could be together. 

and now here they are with my face on their shirts and holding each other in their arms and i want to throw up. 

not because i don't want them together, but because seeing that makes the loneliness in my chest seem bigger. 

i don't even really miss her.  i just miss having someone to call at 3 am when i can't sleep. i miss having someone to call first when i get news. i miss having someone to hold. 

i guess you could say i miss being in a relationship, rather than the person i was in a relationship with. 

"hey guys !" i yell into the mic, and everyone screams. "thank you all for coming out today, i love you all so much!" the crowd is deafening. "i wanna give special shout out to my sister, paige and the other members of the UCONN womens basketball team for being hear today!" the camera pans to paige and the girls, and i do a double take when i see a girl around my age, towering over everyone else. "i love you paigey!" the crowd goes wild. 

the concert began and i used my show to work through all the mixed emotions i was feeling, bringing my audience with me through them. 

we danced during my verse on my type. laughed during b.s. . cried during none of your concern.

and after an hour and 30 minutes of singing, dancing, crying, and yapping between songs, the concert was over. 

and i could a breathe again. 

until i was bombarded by my 6'1 sister and her ginormous friends. 

everyone told me how amazing i look and sound and how they listen to my music everyday. these are things i hear everyday so i say the same response i say everyday. 

"thank you so much." 

"aye we're boutta go to a club, you trynna roll with us?" paige asked, rubbing her hands together and looking at her girlfriend, who i'm just now realizing is wearing a semi-skimpy outfit. 

so is everyone else, actually. 

and now they're looking at me like i can't say no. 

so i don't. 

"uh yeah!" i chuckle uncomfortably. "just let me change real quick."

*luh time skip*

i'm actually glad i came out. 

we got a section. bottles galore. music is booming. 

the vibes are actually immaculate. i'm two shots in and kk is twerking in my lap as big boogie talks about taking caramel colored baddie to poundtown. we vibing for real. 

i've learned the beautiful girl from earlier is named jana. she doesn't really talk, and i guess she'd too young to drink because she's been babysitting ginger ale all night. 

"i'm gonna go get a bottle of casamingo!" i annouce, bouncing up from the counch and stomping down the stair of our section. 

when i reach the bar, i pay the bartender and wait for my bottle. but while i'm waiting i hear my name being called and i assume it's a fan, so i turn around with a huge smile, only to be slapped in the face with the sight of my ex-girlfriend, kristen.

she looks exactly the same as she did three weeks ago when we broke up. and for some reason that pisses me off. it makes my blood boil and my breath quicken. 

i'm ripped out of my trance when i hear the dj yell, "WE GOT JAZMIN INNA HOUSE!!!" 

fuck. he's gonna make me sing. 

"COME UP AND GIVE SOMETHING GIRL!" he shouts and everyone screams in agreement. 

in a daze, i walk to the stage and grab the mic. 

everyone chants, 

freestyle freestyle freestyle

and then the dj, who i'm beginning to really fucking hate, plays a beat i've never heard before, leaving me not knowing what the fuck to do. 

i look to our section, and see my sister with her phone up, recording. i see azzi giving me thumbs up like the sweetheart she is. i see kk clapping and cheering with everyone else. 

i see jana, with a look of fear in her eyes. 

like she can tell that i'm freaking fuck out, so she is too. 

but i can't go out like this. 

so i catch the beat, and sing whatever comes to mind. 

saying everything that's been on my mind for weeks now. 

"go figure you were the trigger you brought me to an obstructed view when you knew the picture was bigger who am i kiddin? knew from the beginnin you'd ruin everything you do it everytime you are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucka"

the crowd is loving it, swaying their flashlights to the music. paige looks so proud of me. she knows how i've been struggling since everything happened so i think she knows what a release this is. 

i look over to kristen who looks delectable, like always and it's pissing me off because the sex was great, but everything else sucked. but it's been so fucking long and i know that if i had 5 minutes to talk to her earlier i would have been back at square one in that toxic cycle of fucking and making up. 

"wanna fuck you right now i just turned the light out know and you know when the sun go down that's when it would all go down been a minute been a while ain't let nobody hit since you hit it i know you always know what to do with it but ain't no me and you without you in it damn i'm boutta burn this bitch down think i need to lie down cause i'm not trynna wild out now. but right now..."

i think of the screaming matches. the broken phone. the hole in my wall.

"don't know what i'm capable of might fuck around and go crazy on cuz might fuck around have to pay me in blood this ain't the way that you want it might catch a case in this bitch don't let m catch you face t face in this bitch trying my hardest not to disrespect you but after what you did, man what you expect? you muhfucka"

i find jana in the crowd because her face is so calming to me, and i don't know why. her eyes are closed and she's just vibing with a small smile on her face. 

she's not recording or anything, she's just enjoying the moment, and that warms my heart. 

"trynna let the time fly trynna let the time go by trynna let the time heal all trynna let the time kill all of our memories all you meant to me all that's history i'll calm down eventually fall back into me maybe i'm overeacting baby i don't know what happened you know all of my bad habits you know it's hard for me to control that shit man cuz when i get mad i get big mad shoulda never did that, get back in my bag in my feelings i'm a bad lil bitch and uh-"

i look back to kristen, who's wearing a pained expression on her face. 

good.

she know it's about her. 

"i'm triggered, when i see your face triggered when i hear your name triggered, i am not okay you need to stay out my what triggered when i hear your name triggered i am not okay you need to stay out my way." 

and then it's over, and the crowd cheers, and i hurry off the stage, back to my section where my friends all hug me and tell me that it was beautiful. 

and when the crowd settles, and i've taken another shot, because i felt entirely too sober, someone taps me on my shoulder. 

it's jana.

"can i get your number?"

"huh?" i ask confused as to why she'd want my number. 

"uh..." she looks around for a second. "i just wanna pay you back for the bottle."

jana hasn't been drinking.. why would she need to pa-

a light bulb goes off in my head and it all come together. 

"here." i hold my phone to hers and our contacts share to each other. 

am i ready for this?

probably not.

but.... we gotta start somewhere right?

niyah speaks lawd they got me writing a seriessss

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

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@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad

[whiteferraristurns]

𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮! Implied smut, no actual sex. She/her pronouns. Frat boy Chris x “party girl” reader.

🐻ྀིྀི - I have a love hate relationship with this.

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬ღ

The music pulsed through the packed fraternity house, reverberating in Chris’s chest as he leaned against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in hand. The air was heavy with the scent of cheap beer, sweat, and cologne, but none of it fazed him. This was his domain.

“Yo, Chris, have you seen her yet?” Nick asked, nudging him with his elbow. Chris smirked, shaking his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll know the second she walks in.” You were infamous at these parties, a force of chaos wrapped in the body of a goddess. You had a way of making the whole room tilt in your favor, guys and girls alike stumbling over themselves to bask in your orbit.

As if summoned by thought alone, the front door swung open, and there you were. You strutted in like you owned the place, your crop top clinging to you in all the right places and your ripped jeans showing just enough to keep people guessing. Your hair cascaded down your back, and your plump red lips curved into a dangerous smile.

Chris straightened, tossing his cup into the trash. “There she is,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Your eyes scanned the room, a predator looking for your prey. When your gaze landed on Chris, your smirk deepened. Without missing a beat, you sauntered toward him, your hips swaying to the beat of the music.

“Chris,” you purred, stopping just close enough to make his heart race. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You’re at my house, pretty,” he replied, leaning in. “You expected me not to show up to my own party?” You chuckled, the sound low and sultry. “Touché.”

Your conversations were always like this—sharp and layered with tension that neither of you dared to break. But tonight, there was an edge to your demeanor, a challenge in your eyes that made Chris’s pulse quicken.

“You dancing tonight, or are you just here to tease me?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze serious. You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Maybe both,” you replied before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

The crowd parted for you like water, and soon you were in the center of the chaos. You turned to face Chris, your movements fluid as you matched the beat of the music. You danced like you didn’t care who was watching, but Chris knew better. Every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair—it was all intentional, all meant to drive him insane. And it was working.

Chris stepped closer, his hands hovering near your waist but not quite touching. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could control you. You weren't the type to be claimed.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You grinned, your lips dangerously close to his ear. “You’re not dying yet, frat boy.”

The song shifted, the bassline deepening, and You turned around, pressing your back against Chris’s chest. He hesitated for half a second before his hands found your hips, gripping you firmly but not possessively.

You moved together like you’d done this a thousand times before, the chemistry between you crackling like static electricity. Chris couldn’t focus on anything else—not the crowd around you two, not the music, not even the fact that you two were putting on a show for half the house.

All he could think about was you.

When the song ended, you spun around, your cheeks flushed and your eyes gleaming. “Not bad,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You don’t make it easy,” he shot back, his voice hoarse.

Before he could say more, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the stairs.

“Wait what about—”

“Don’t tell ‘em,” you interrupted, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Unless you’re chicken.”

Chris didn’t have a chance to reply before pulled him up the stairs, the door of his room slamming shut behind you fading the party. 

You leaned against it, your eyes locked on his as you bit your bottom lip, a coy smile tugging at the corners. The air between you crackled with tension, the kind that had been building for weeks, maybe months.

Chris stood near the edge of his bed, his heart racing. He could hear the muffled bassline from downstairs, but it felt like it belonged to another world. This moment, this room-it was just you two.

You pushed off the door and slowly walked toward him, your shoes clicking softly against the wooden floor. When you stopped in front of him, you tilted your head, your expression daring yet soft.

"Are you scared of me, Chris?" you teased, your voice low, almost a whisper. Chris huffed a laugh, his smirk barely masking the way his pulse thundered in his ears. "Should I be?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing the hem of his shirt. You looked up at him through your lashes, your lips parting slightly as you tugged at the fabric.

Chris swallowed hard. "You're playing with fire ma."

You raised a brow. "Maybe I like the burn it gives.”

That was all it took to break his restraint. Chris grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him. Your breath hitched, and for a split second, you just stared at each other, your noses nearly touching.

Then you kissed him.

It wasn't soft or hesitant; it was fierce, full of all the teasing and tension that had been simmering between you. Your hands slid up his chest, tangling in his hair, while he gripped your hips, anchoring you to him as if he was afraid you'd slip away.

"Ma," he muttered against your lips, his voice gravelly.

"What?" you murmured, kissing him again, deeper this time. Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hands still firmly on your waist. "If we do this... it's not just some game for me."

Your expression faltered for a moment, your eyes flickering with something unreadable. But then you smiled, softer this time.

"Good," you whispered. "Because it's not for me either."

His lips found yours again, and this time, it was slower, more deliberate.

Chris guided you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You laughed softly as you fell onto the mattress, pulling him down with you. You moved together in perfect sync, every touch, every kiss igniting something deeper. Your laughter mixed with Chris's low murmurs, the weight of your usual banter replaced by something infinitely more intimate.

The mattress dipped under Chris's weight as he hovered over you, his hands pressing into the bed on either side of your head. Your hair fanned out against the pillow like a halo, but the mischievous glint in your eyes was anything but angelic.

"You're staring," you teased, your voice softer now, almost breathless. Your fingers toyed with the chain around his neck, tugging him closer.

"Can you blame me?" he shot back, his tone low as he leaned down until your noses brushed.

Your lips curved into a smirk, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your gaze-something Chris hadn't seen in you before.

Vulnerability. He didn't comment on it, didn't call you out. Instead, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours with a mix of heat and tenderness. You sighed into the kiss, your hands sliding down his chest and under the hem of his shirt. Your nails grazed his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "Off," you murmured, tugging at the fabric.

Chris chuckled, sitting back just long enough to strip off his shirt, revealing the lean muscles you'd only caught glimpses of before. Your gaze lingered, and for once, you didn't have a snarky remark ready.

"What?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Nothing," you replied, your voice quieter now. You sat up slightly, your hands tracing the lines of his chest.

"Just didn't expect you to look this good." He laughed, the sound low and rich, before pulling you back down beneath him. "I could say the same about you," he murmured, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck, every spot that made you shiver beneath him.

You felt yourself slipping with every touch, every kiss. You'd built your reputation on being untouchable, unbothered, but Chris was different. He wasn't trying to win you over with fake charm or empty promises. He wasn't trying to tame you. He just wanted you.

As sweet as it was it scared you

"Chris," you whispered, your fingers curling into the sheets.

He paused, pulling back to look at you. His brow furrowed, and the intensity in his eyes softened.

"What is it?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip—a rare moment of hesitation for you. "This... This doesn't mean anything, right? Like, we're just..."

Chris's jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might pull away. But then he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was gentler than any you’d share so far. 

"It doesn't have to mean anything tonight," he said quietly, his voice steady. "But don't pretend it's not there. You feel it just as much as I do."

Your breath caught, and for the first time in a long time, you didn't have a witty comeback. You just nodded, pulling him closer again, letting the conversation fade into the background as you lost yourselves in each other. 

🧸ྀིྀི

The morning light filtered through the blinds in Chris’s room, casting soft rays over the tangled sheets and clothes strewn across the floor. Chris stirred awake, his head pounding faintly from the aftermath of the party, but it wasn’t the hangover that made his heart race.

It was you.

you laid beside him, one arm draped over your head and your lips slightly parted in sleep. Your hair fanned out across the pillow, and the faint remnants of last night’s lipstick still stained your mouth. You looked peaceful, almost angelic—nothing like the wild, chaotic force you were downstairs just hours ago.

Chris leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his messy hair. What the hell did he get himself into? Last night was a blur of heat and tension, but it was crystal clear how you ended up here. You had a way of drawing him in, of making him forget everything else. And now, in the quiet of the morning, reality started creeping in.

“You’re staring again,” you muttered, your voice raspy with sleep. You didn’t even open your eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Chris chuckled, leaning forward. “Hard not to when you look like that.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you turned to face him, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Careful, Christopher. Compliments like that might make me think you’re catching feelings.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And what if I am?” you froze for a split second before laughing it off, the sound light but guarded. “Don’t make this complicated, Chris,” you said, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you. “Last night was fun, but you know how I am.”

Chris sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know. But maybe I’m tired of this back-and-forth. Maybe I want more than just—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than he expected. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, but there was a wall there, one he couldn’t push through. “This isn’t… I’m not the kind of girl who does ‘more.’ You know that.” Chris clenched his jaw, biting back the words he wanted to say. He knew your reputation, knew how you kept people at arm’s length, but last night felt different.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, standing up and searching for your clothes. “You’re a good guy, Chris,” you said, your voice softer now. “But you deserve someone who can give you what you want. And that’s not me.”

You found your jeans and slid them on, your movements quick and efficient like you were trying to get out before you could change your mind. Chris sat there, watching you, his chest tight.

“Don’t leave,” he called, his voice low.

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, but you didn’t turn around.

“You keep running from everyone, but one day you’re gonna realize you’re only hurting yourself,” he said, his tone both frustrated and resigned.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the world waking up outside. Then you turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the flicker of pain in your eyes.

“Maybe..” you whispered “I’ll see you ‘round Chris.” You sighed slipping out the door.

Chris stared at the empty doorway, his chest heavy with everything unsaid. He could still smell your perfume lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Soon enough his phone buzzed. Don’t tell anyone about last night.

He stared at the message, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. I won’t. But you can’t keep running forever.

There was no reply, and Chris didn’t expect one. You were a storm—beautiful, wild, and impossible to hold onto. And even though he knew you’d probably blow through his life just as quickly as you entered it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop chasing you.

TAGS ʚ♡ɞ @sturniqloo @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @strnilolover @aymeesblog @il0vecatzzz @chrissturnioloslvt @mattsfavginger @heartz4matt @starfuckoff

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x angel!reader

Chapter 4: Stardust

Chapter warnings: Alastor being Alastor

When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration.

But that was long ago, and now my consolation

Is in the stardust of a song.

Masterlist

Time seemed to stop for Alastor.

Those bright, beautiful eyes he had fallen in love with in the mortal world, turned to look at him, acknowledging his presence.

His ever-present smile wavered a bit, just until those eyes turned away from him to look at Lucifer.

Despite Charlie’s cries for help and Lucifer’s aggressive disapproval, all he heard was silence. His glowing red eyes bore into the back of his beloved’s head.

You’d gone to heaven, of course you did and he knew that for a long time. He had scoured the ends of hell for your presence but found none who held even a shred of your likeness. He was relieved at first, knowing you would be spared from his violence, knowing you would be safe.

But it wasn’t long before he felt a sense of longing, desperation, and want to have you with him. He knew that if he played his cards right, his powers would help him grow stronger. He would be strong enough to bring you back to him.

 Even if it meant he had to rip out those striking wings of yours.

Those very wings that blocked his vision now.

He let out a static sigh, ordering his dead heart to calm down as he approached the party.

“Now, now, Your Majesty,” he started, letting his hand act as a barrier between the two of you. It is rather uncouth for royalty like you to act in such a brazen way.”

His eyes shifted to yours, holding your skeptical gaze. He could feel not a smidge of recognition deep within those irises.

His stance faltered for a fraction of a second before his grin widened as he turned to the king of hell who was still seething.

“Why not give this angel a chance to explain themselves, hm? Unless you’re incapable of behaving like an adult, let alone a king?” Alastor jeered.

Hearing this, Lucifer turned his blood-red eyes to Alastor, gritting his teeth and speaking, “And I think you should behave like the easily disposable subject you are.”

Charlie, feeling a murderous staring contest begin between the two, intervened.

“Dad, this angel has come to give our hotel their blessings,” she explained, moving over to you, “And they have proof from Sera! Right?”

Her nervous eyes shifted to you, begging you to try to quell this disharmony.

“Your daughter speaks the truth, Lucifer Morningstar,” you said, summoning the scroll into your hands and holding it out for him.

Lucifer snatched the scroll to read it himself, his eyes moving over every word. Alastor leaned over to look through it as well. As soon as he reached the end, he let out a guffaw.

“Oh, this is hilarious!” Alastor exclaimed, wiping away a fake tear, “The High Seraphim pitying us helpless demons?”

Alastor let out a dramatic sigh, holding a fist over his chest, “Oh how…,” his static faded, only to grow louder as you felt his presence nearing you, “....delightful.” 

With a tap, your cane transformed into your weapon. You pointed the sword right at his neck.

All eyes were on the two of you and silence grew, save for the quiet static that prevailed.

“You have a lot of guts trying to intimidate an angel,” you spoke, shifting your gaze to meet his, “especially since you’ve,” your eyes trailed down to his dress coat, “met one already.”

Alastor’s eye twitched as he shifted back with uncertainty. His ever-present grin straining as he tried to compose himself.

“And I don’t think that encounter went quite well for you,” You continued, your gaze piercing his soul.

He had never seen you like this before. Your eyes had always been one of his favorite things about you, having always held so much love whenever they looked at him.

But now, those very eyes he’d adored were holding him down in place, watching him like a predator stalks their prey. 

Before he could lose any more of his composure, your eyes turned to find Lucifer’s.

“Your Majesty,” you started, snapping your fingers to get rid of the scroll held in his hands, “As you can see, I am here by the order of the High Seraphim. She sees potential in this establishment and I do too.”

Lucifer’s stature was still guarded, but his demonic form had calmed down a bit, his horns having disappeared completely and his eyes slowly returning to their normal state. 

He stole a look at his daughter, her pleading eyes softening his resolve.

Letting out a sudden laugh, he walked up to you and pulled you down by your collar, making sure you were at eye level with him. 

“If you try to hurt my daughter,” he glared, “I’ll drag you down to a place worse than hell myself…permanently.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Your Majesty,” you said, cooly.

With a huff, he let go of you, rolling his shoulders back. He met Charlie’s gaze with a tired smile. She returned it with warmth, an unspoken understanding resonating between them.

“So,” Charlie looked at you with a gigantic grin, “When do we get started?”

You tilted your head, “I’m sorry?”

“Gosh! I have so many ideas to work with! I’ll show you my charts! There’s this excellent daily schedule I’ve planned for the guests, sin-free of course-”

“Hun,” Vaggie interrupted, “Maybe we should…help them settle first?” 

Charlie gasped, “Right!”

She grabbed you by your arm with a giddy disposition, “I have just the right room for you! Let’s go!”

Vaggie and Lucifer followed her as she dragged you upstairs, watching you like a hawk.

The rest of the hotel residents stood there in silence, before Niffty spoke out excitedly, “I like them.” She then hopped away happily with her broom, searching for her next pest victims. 

“I’m…. gonna go head out for a while, see ya later Angie!” Cherri said as she walked out of the hotel.

Angel Dust and Husk looked at each other, not sure what to make of the situation. A sudden and loud crackle of static alarmed the two of them.

 They turned to see Alastor seething, his smile morphing into a sickly grin. They followed his line of sight to the newly arrived angel who bore a soft smile as they patiently listened to Charlie’s excited ramblings, disappearing into the long halls with Lucifer and Vaggie in tow.

A pop sounded behind them as they watched Alastor fizzle away into the shadows.

“What’s the deal with ‘im?” Angel asked Husk, who merely shrugged, too tired and drunk to care.

You looked around the room Charlie had brought you to. It was quite spacious, decked out with a comfortable queen-sized bed, a few tasteful decorations, and a balcony overlooking the Pride ring. 

“The washroom’s right there and we serve 3 meals a day- the food and accommodations are all free, of course!” Charlie explained.

“The bar is open…whenever Husk feels like it, to be honest,” she admitted sheepishly, “but he’s a guest too so…”

Charlie trailed off, looking around.

“You….don’t have your luggage?” she pointed out.

“Oh! I do,” you said as you snapped your fingers twice. Your suitcases, numerous books, and everything else popped into existence, covering almost every inch of the dark red carpeted floor.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer looked dumbfounded.

“I..umm..may have packed a bit too much…” you said with an awkward smile.

Charlie regained her composure, “Don’t worry, take your time unpacking and settling in! We’ll just be out of your way!”

She dragged her father and girlfriend along with her, shutting the door behind her.

“Well that was something,” Vaggie started.

“I can’t believe an actual not fallen angel is in our hotel!” Charlie exclaimed, jumping on her hooves in the hallway.

“I still don’t know how to feel about this, Charlie,” Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand, “Heaven, listening to us for once? Hah! As if.”

“Dad…,” Charlie placed a hand on her father’s shoulder, “If we don’t give Heaven a chance, we’d be bigger hypocrites than Heaven themselves!”

“Guess there’s no helping it,” Lucifer smiled, holding his hand over his daughter’s, “I won’t be able to be with you all the time though, still have official stuff I gotta handle from the castle.”

He turned to his daughter’s girlfriend.

“Maggie,”

“Vaggie-”

“Can I trust you to take care of my girl when I’m not in the hotel?” 

“I’ll protect her even when you’re here, Your Majesty,” Vaggie stated, “I’m not gonna let an angel of all beings harm her.”

“Awww, you guysss,” Charlie beamed as she hugged the two, “I appreciate all that but I can take care of myself too!”

“No doubt about that, dear,” Lucifer smiled, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

“C’mon, let’s give them time to unpack,” Charlie giggled, gesturing to the room of the new arrival, “And let’s give ourselves time to unpack…this situation.”

As soon as they were about to take a step, you popped your head out of the room with a smile.

“All done!”

The three looked back with wide eyes.

“Already?” Vaggie exclaimed, “ It's been like what…a minute?”

“Ah well…. angelic magic can go a long way,” you said, “I took the liberty to make a few tweaks to the room if you don’t mind.”

Charlie, growing curious, walked up to the room, “Of course, as long as…”

Her voice trailed off and her jaw dropped. 

The room had been completely transformed. Soft blue replaced the red hues that once decorated the walls. White drapes surrounded the bed canopy and the windows. A few potted plants were placed where it best suited them, and all your necessities were neatly arranged in their appropriate places. 

But the most drastic change of them all was the seemingly infinitely extending ceiling enveloped in a fitting angelic aura.

“Oh, don’t worry about the ceiling, it won’t disturb the rooms above this one,” you pointed out, watching Charlie shake her head in disbelief, “I just needed some space to stretch my wings.”

Vaggie and Lucifer stood behind Charlie shortly after, their mouths gaping like the princess.

“You’ve settled in already,” Lucifer chimed.

You sheepishly shrugged in reply. 

It wasn’t long before you had to bid them goodbye as they left you to your devices. 

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the bed. You opened the bedside drawer and took out a jewelry box. 

Opening it, you could see all the little trinkets Molly had made for you, the few golden cranes that Oliver had forged as a gift for you. You smiled, wondering what the two were up to right now in heaven.

Your emotions took a somber turn when your fingers felt the cool looped metal hidden beneath everything else. Holding it up, your eyes found the red ruby seated in the center of the ring.

The ring you’d come to heaven with. The ring, as St. Peter had described, was a parting gift from someone who loved you.

Someone….who loved you.

You wondered if you would find them someday—the person who gave you this ring. Surely they must’ve made it to heaven? Or perhaps condemned to hell?

Are they still here? Have they been thinking of you?

Do…do they still love you?

All those questions plagued your mind ever since you entered the gates of heaven. And they have never left you in peace.

Putting it back safely within the confines of the box, you slid the drawer close, turning your attention to your other prized possession. 

A radio. 

You’d made it so that it could play music with or without a station nearby. Although it took several attempts for you to get it right, on top of making sure you did not damage the gizmo, you knew it was worth all the hassle.

Something had drawn you to it when you first saw it sitting on the shop shelf collecting dust. Call it love at first sight, if you will.

You turned the dial, smiling when music played through. It was a song about love- a reminiscent memory of it.

Sometimes I wonder, how I spend

The lonely nights

Dreaming of a song

The melody 

Haunts my reverie

You lay down on the bed, letting your wings rest on either side of you. You feel a lone feather float down towards your face. You reach out to catch hold of it, right before it landed on you. 

And I am once again with you

When our love was new 

And each kiss an inspiration

You twirl the feather in between your fingers as your mind wanders.

.

.

.

You must find them -the person who loved you.

But that was long ago

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song.

You must.

A/N: Sorry for the late updates. Trying my best to juggle my academics with writing. I can't promise regular updates, at least not until I get into med school but I'll try my best to not keep ya'll waiting. Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx,

@fairyv-ice , @sonatabee @preciousbabypeter,

@mo-0-o

@goddesslilithmoriarty, @cyannese-rose,

@readergirlstuff, @nealeart,

@dollsgate, @cherry-cola-100

@dark-mark @hey-there-you @missa-archdevilme

@diffidentphantom, @eris-norwega

[pumpkinpatchmaniac]

ARCANE SEASON 2 ARC 3 SPOILERS‼️‼️

I noticed this while watching episode 7: “Pretend like its the first time”, not that small of a detail but:

(I’m sorry if it is incoherent i just really needed to get this out.)

During the innovative party scene where Ekko dances with Powder, the song that plays is ”ma meilleure ennemie” by Stromae & Pomme, which translates to ”my best (female) enemy” which clearly refers to Powder, or Jinx.

In the intro begins a small chant where they say

Je t’aime, je t’attends […]

Meaning “ i love you, i am waiting for you” which clearly explains Ekko before coming to terms that Jinx no longer is Powder, since he fell inlove with Powder he keeps waiting for Powder to come back. This mental dilemma of having to accept that even if its the same body, same face its not the same person anymore, which is later supported by the first chorus where Stromae sings

La pire des bénédiction, La plus belle des malédictions

“The worse of all blessings, the best of all curses”, Powder was the best thing that happened to him while Jinx was the worse thing which makes this relationship with her- this connection, both a blessing and a curse.

But what made the scene more interesting was when they danced and the part

Mais ma meilleure ennemie, c'est toi [but my best enemy, that is you.]

Fuis-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi [flee from me, the worse is you and i]

Mais si tu cherches encore ma voix [but if you keep searching for my voice]

Oublie-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi [forget me, the worse is you and i]

I know we all wanted Ekko to stay in that timeline and be happy with Powder but remember season 1 where- whilst every Jinx or Vi centric episodes always began with a flashback, the Ekko centric one started from the present. Indicating that Ekko forces himself to always look forward than trying to let the past get to him. For exempel in - please correct me if i’m wrong, season 1 episode 5 when Vi said that she should’ve been there to help Ekko, he only says ”that’s is a good way to drive yourself crazy”. He immidiantly shut down any thought of what could’ve been, indirectly forcing Vi to think about the present. Especially afterwards when Vi talks about getting Powder back when Ekko has already fully acknowledge that there is only Jinx. All of this makes him being in that timeline more difficult for him since it is exactly what he wanted to avoid, being stuck in what could’ve been.

Dancing with Powder just engraves this furthee into him, this is unhealthy for Ekko since it’s the relation ship between him and Jinx. As to reiterate ”if you keep searching for Powder’s, voice, stop, it will just drive you crazy”

Also to refer to the pre-chorus!

First one:

Tu sais c'qu'on dit [you know what they say]

Sois près d'tes amis les plus chers [stay close to your dearest friends]

Mais aussi [but even]

Encore plus près d'tes adversaires [even closer to your adversaries (i.e antagonists, villains)

And the second one

Je t'avais dit : "Ne regarde pas en arrière" [i have told you : “dont look back]

Le passé qui te suit te fait la guerre [the past will follow you and take you to war]

(This is pretty self explanatory)

Additionally, before the kiss scene where Ekko says “can we pretend like it’s the first the first time”, further insinuates the whole, “this is my present even thought it’s a part of your past”.

TL:DR

This scene hurts

(Authors note:

I know it is not a small detail and not that significant but i really wanna acknowledge how every part of the Arcane series have a significance into the story. And honestly i needed to vent. It was so fun last night watching the scene and hearing ”le pire, c’est toi et moi” and just go ”oh, word?”. I am not French but i studied it so it just felt good from that POV too.

Edit: i was not aware that Arcane gets critizied over how litteral the songs are to the scene but i still stand by my point about why i really liked the song and this scene specifically)

[sheplaysviolin]

One of the girls

“I just wanna be one of your girls tonight.”

Caitlyn Kirammen X female reader

Disclaimer- smut, cussing, smoking, and drinking some mentions of season 2 act 2 spoilers, and mentioning of prostitution

Extras- inspired by the song ‘One of the girls’ by The Weekend, Lily-Rose Depp and JENNIE

Enjoy :)

The city of Piltover has seen numerous attacks due to someone from the under city. Only the higher ups of the city truly know what is going on leaving the city in complete silence. But you still have to get up everyday at exactly 7 pm to start your day at the club. You obviously didn’t imagine this life for yourself while you were in school but due to the death of your father who kept the family unit afloat your education was forcibly put on hold.

He died young, only at the age of 48. Your mother completely disappeared after his death. Her ghostly figure hovering around the house. Her steps heaving and her head held low. Your father always told you that if something happens to him. You had to be responsible for the family. So now you work late into the night to sustain the life your family once had. You can tell your mom is truly thankful for your sacrifice but doesn’t show it much. She is far more embarrassed by the life you had to chose because she couldn’t get her shit together.

You get out of bed and look at your hands. Trying to see if the fight you were in yesterday is visible. Seeing that it is not you stand and start to get ready for your shift. Picking out an outfit that will hopefully get you enough money to put in the monthly payment for your younger brother’s tuition. Already running late you take some things you need to keep getting ready at work. You walk out of your room and the house is quiet and dark. A pot of stew on the stove waiting to be eaten.

You give your home one last look before leaving and locking the door behind you. The walk to the club is sketchy. Of course it is, this form of work in Piltover is illegal. But for girls like you this is your only option. You walk quietly through the city. Seeing flowers in memory of the council memories that passed away due to the attack. You observe young men slumped over clearly intoxicated crying out for someone.

After many flights of stairs you finally make it to your job. Hearing the music from outside of the building always gets you prepared for what you are about to expiernce. You knock three times rhythmically on the door letting the security know it’s one of the dancers. A tall broad man opens the door for you and gives you a quick glance. “Good afternoon Y/N, loads of people here tonight.” The man says while keeping his eyes straight avoiding eye contact.

You push your way through to get in and chuckle at his statement. “That’s every night.” You sassily reply to him. He shakes his head in disagreement and bends down closer to you. You feel his slow breathing on your neck and twitch slightly. “No, it’s different tonight.” He says ominously. You playfully push him off of you and walk away. ‘Can’t be that different, right?!’

The club is dimly lit and flashes of color appear every so often. You hear all sorts of songs tonight and men whistling at the women dancing sensually on stage. You walk to the back and open the door to the dancer only section where girls are getting ready. “Hey Y/N.” Farrah says while snorting some substance up her nose. Farrah actually introduced you to the club life without her.. you don’t even want to think about it. You smile at her and walk over in a skippy manner. “How is the money tonight?” You ask while giving her a friendly kiss on her head.

She slightly blushes and waves you off. “It’s great. Like really great. Probably best all year in my opinion!” She says excitedly. You walk over to the changing rooms and start changing. Everyday is a theme and tonight it’s ’Under the sea’ kinda stupid in your opinion but whatever. Your outfit is light blue and barely covers anything. You slip on your high heels and start to pick out your songs for tonight. “Y/N! You are on stage right now.” Your boss says while quickly scanning her eyes over her clipboard. “Okay.”

Going on stage is always nerve racking but once you are up there all of the nerves go away. Your music starts playing and you start dancing sultry and smooth. Desperate men throw their money at you that they promised to save. Your body touches the cold pole and sparks your excitement even more. While dancing you see a figure in the back with piercing blue eyes. You stare directly at them. Watching them like your life depends on it.

You try to focus on your dance while still trying to make out who the figure is. ‘Maybe it’s a regular? What no way I would’ve recognized those eyes. Hmm their hair seems kinda long, maybe it’s a woman?’

You hear men whooping and hollering over your and seeing men slouched over at the bar with an empty drink besides them. It’s usually never women in these kinds of places. With this conclusion you start to feel more into the music than ever. Squatting slowly down the pole and pressing your pelvic era near it slowly. You start to slowly walk around the pole and rolling your body. You keep eye contact with those blue eyes. You guide your hands down your body and bring it back up to suck on your fingers.

This movement always makes the men in here holler for whatever reasons. The figure starts to smirk slowly which gives you all kinds of excitement. Your song ends and the men start to stand up and clap and throw money at you. You wink at them and start picking it up slowly while mouthing ‘thank you’. You step off stage money in hand and go to the dancer section only to get ready for private rooms. “Great job Y/N! You already have a customer wanting a private room with you.” your boss says while taking an inhale from her cigarette. “Okay, let me get ready then.” You tell her while putting your money in a bag saving it to count for later. You retouch your makeup, and fix your hair a bit before walking out to the private rooms.

“Hey Y/N.” A man says while putting down his glass. It’s Harlow he’s always in here. His shaggy hair covers his deep eye bags and his forehead wrinkles. “Hey, sorry can’t talk right now private room!” you say quickly trying to avoid a conversation. He’s a nice man but he’s very pushy and if you don’t stop him. He will take up your whole shift talking about himself. “Of course baby. After him it’s my turn.” He says while attempting to wink at you but actually just closes both of his eyes. You give him a wave and keep walking.

‘Him, huh? Damn I wanted it to be ocean eyes.’ You think to yourself before opening the deep red curtain to the private room. “Hello..?” You say while entering. Before even being able to finish your sentence you see the person that was smirking at you while dancing. You were right it was a women. Infront of you is a women with her legs spread and slumped down in her chair. Her features are intriguing her teal-blue piercing eyes that shine in the dim lit room. Her long blue hair that she keeps pushing out of her face. She must be nervous. Something about her looks so familiar. “You don’t look like you are supposed to be here.” You say while closing the curtain behind you. You feel her eyes stare at your figure and you suddenly became nervous.

“What does that mean?” She scoffs at your comment. Her voice catches you off guard for a moment. “Love your accent.” You say while walking towards her. She rolls her eyes and looks at you up and down. Inspecting every part of you. “You are fucking gorgeous by the way. Wouldn’t think a face like yours would end up here.” She says to you while stretching her hand out to you. You hesitate for a moment than take it. Her long slender hands are cool to the touch. ‘Wonder what this would feel like up my.. fuck.’

You smile at her. No one has ever called hour gorgeous before. Mostly because people can’t even spell it where. “I didn’t think so either but here we are.” You giggle for a second before straddling her. You really aren’t supposed to get this close to the clients but damn this girl is different. “I don’t even really know what we are supposed to do in here. But I like this a lot already.” The ocean eyed lady says while slowly gliding her hands up and down your body. Some of you is bare due to your outfit so it tingles in a good way.

You give her a quick smirk. You start to move your hip closer to her. Grinding back and forth. She pulls you closer to her and squeezes your ass. “Can I kiss you?” She asks shyly as if you aren’t basically riding her. “Of course.” She grabs your face tightly but also comforting and pulls you into a kiss. Her mouth opening to let your inside. Everything about her is so addicting. The way her tongue slowly enters your mouth.

You slowly moan into her and she takes that as a sign to take off your top. Which is totally against the rules but fuck it. She exposes your breast to the cold air. “So beautiful.” She says before leaning into your chest. She opens her mouth and sucks on your nipples needly. “Fuck..” you mumble while resting your head on your shoulder. You have never been this intimate with someone before and this experience is out of body. She smiles into your chest hearing the sounds that you are producing just from her mouth. She grips your other breast with her free hand squeezing them.

“Damn they are soft.” This comment makes you a bit embarrassed. You start sucking on her neck and run your fingers through her hair. “Hah..” is the only sound you can make just from her sucking on you. She opens her mouth exposing your breast to the cold air and lifts your body up to take off your skirt. “Can I?” She says before sliding her index and ring finger into you. The noises your body makes is fascinating.

You start to moan into her neck. “Come on baby ride my fingers.” She whispers into your ear sending shivers down your spine. You start to adjust your self into her fingers and start to move your hips. “Fuck your tight.” She whispers while pushing more into you. You try to maintain a steady rhythm with your hips like you are on stage but this is just so different. Her long slender fingers fit so well inside you. She starts to move her fingers in and out of you.

“Ha.. I can’t.” you softly grunt. “Are you about to cum?” You nod and she smirks at you. “Come on baby.” She begs while looking at you. Your body squirms with every slightly movement she makes. “Mmhmm..” is all you can muster out before climaxing. “Good job baby.” She praises you as if she didn’t do all the work. She slowly lifts you up and takes her fingers out slowly. The slimy residue that is left on her fingers is a creamy white color. She stretches apart the two fingers that were just in you and a string of the substance is shown.

She looks at you and starts to put her fingers in her mouth sucking in her cum filled fingers. You can’t even look at her embarrassed from what just happened. She takes her fingers out of her mouth and tilts your head towards her with her thumb and smiles at you. “Beautiful.”

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 !!

HIIII I hoped you liked it!! Bro I’m so terrified to finish arcane that I distracted myself and wrote this instead!! I’m so tempted to write caitvi fic bc I’ve already seen all the videos their little scene it was so hot. Well anyways bye :) until next time!!

Speaking of next time what would yall prefer- Caitvi, Viktor x reader or boxer Vi x reader ? Please tell me <3

[aveadore]

Tumblr, hear out my Arcane thoughts. Some of it is slander, though, so don’t read if it’ll bum you out. In the end, I decided to go with one topic mostly, because I had too much to say.

Spoilers, obviously

Tw: suicide

The way the show handles suicide is SO irresponsible. Call it heroic sacrifice, if you must, but I won’t. The same song that played before, during Jinx’s attempts, played again, during her sacrifice, so the intention is clear.

Do they not realize that so many people that relate to Jinx in some ways are watching it? It’s like they are trying to say: “yes, your intrusive thoughts are right, you are better off not being there. It’s best for your loved ones, if you disappear.” So weird. And, fine, she’s probably not dead. But why hide it? Why not make her end be, openly: “sometimes, you can only heal if you cut everyone off and start anew” Fine. That would be way better. I just can’t believe that such a high profile show, in year 2024, uses suicide in such an irresponsible way. Makes it “cool” looking, gives vulnerable people a playlist, actually. Says “wait a minute, not yet”, and later LETS HER FINISH IT? Wft. Like it’s okay? Like it’s a good end for her?

Isha’s story is also part of this problem. I can’t believe her earlier end was not mentioned later. What was the point of it? Was it a good thing for a seven year old to sacrifice herself? You would think so, they way the show sidesteps the whole thing. The way Jinx is repeating what Isha had done, with no reflection on it. I also have no idea WHY Isha has done it. Was it a consequence of something someone else did, or said? Didn’t seem so. Jinx didn’t really fuck that one up, I think. I thought Isha was jinx’s foil, but it ended up not meaning anything. Was it going to show Jinx her own actions as a child, so she could find some empathy towards Vi? But Isha was not mentioned, so who knows what they were trying to say.

Summary of my other opinions, with no details as it’s too long already:

-I liked Victor and Jayce’s ending. Their relationship had enough time/buildup throughout the whole series to pull of the weight of it. It was a little bit rushed at times, but not as much as the rest of S2.

-I absolutely hated how they handled Cait, and she definitely ended up as my most disliked character.

-Mel was one of my favourites, but her story was the most rushed one is S2. I also wasn’t crazy happy that she also ended up mostly fighting at the end. I have no idea what the Black Rose lady was talking about with the whole empathy thing.

-I really liked episode 7, it was the best one from S2. Because they focused only on Ekko and Jayce, the story had time to breathe. The whiplash between their parts was crazy, but in a good way.

-The way they introduced the third faction, just so all main characters could unite was such a cop-out. The systemic problems were much too big to just be fixed by that, and the show just brushes it all under the rug. And the end is just fighting. Ugh.

-Well, it was obviously very pretty. Every frame a perfect picture and all that. Weird complaint, but some designs were “too good”. Too polished. Too much like a high-end commercial for a new skin that costs 200$. It was so distracting for me :P Especially with some Victor “outfits”

-The biggest, most pervasive problem was the time. So much stuff, so little time. It should have been three seasons. There was no time to breathe, no time to understand what’s going on. Characters running from one massive scene to next, with no build-up in between. Just so everyone can end up similar enough to their LoL variant. A bit disappointing.

[lachencha]

A Million Springs: Anya Mouthwashing x Reader

i updated today?

you know i had to double itttt

this was based on my dreems

i hope you guys like it! and thank you for liking and reblogging you beautiful people!

does anya’s ghost count as a warning..??

Abandoned sheets of music lay scattered across your desk, with crumpled, balled-up ones overflowing the trash can. Sleepily, you scribble more lyrics onto a fresh page, writing words of love you wish you could've said to her one more time. It's been almost a year, but the ache hasn't dulled. If anything, it lingers sharper in the quiet.

She loved music. She loved when you sang songs to her, when you'd dedicate them to her during a gig. Though you never thought of yourself as much of a songwriter, she liked whatever impromptu melody you came up with. Anya liked everything—oldies, R&B, pop. You smile softly, remembering how diverse her playlists were during your late-night car rides, each song a little glimpse into her ever-curious heart.

You strum your guitar lightly. The sound feels hollow. Usually, Anya would be there beside you, swaying her head to the rhythm as you practiced, sometimes humming, sometimes shyly singing along. She was always self-conscious about her voice, and you never understood why. You told her she was amazing, better than she realized. But she'd always shake her head and laugh, playfully stubborn. She didn't believe you, though you wished she had.

You glance at the mess on your desk and begin sorting the scattered sheets. Anya would've scolded you for leaving it like this, she hated clutter. She used to tidy up your desk while muttering good-natured complaints. It feels wrong to organize it now without her, but you do it anyway, her voice echoing in your mind.

After a quick shower, you slip into bed, your body clean but your mind anything but. You stare at the ceiling, too tired to move but too restless to drift off. The silence presses heavy around you.

"(Y/N)."

Your breath catches. That voice—it couldn't be.

You sit up, your heart racing, and there she is. Your raven-haired beauty, her familiar eyes gazing down at you with a softness that breaks you. Her lips curve into a gentle smile, and you can't stop the tears that well up in your eyes. Slowly, almost afraid she'll vanish, you reach for her. She takes your hand, her touch warm and steady.

“Anya..." you whisper, the name trembling on your lips. You throw yourself into her arms, sobbing.

She holds you tightly, her fingers stroking your hair with the same tenderness you'd missed so desperately.

"I've missed you so much, Anya. You have no idea how much I've missed you. I wrote so many songs, so many poems—everything for you. I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you."

"I know," she says softly, her voice like a balm on your wounded heart.

She guides you to sit beside her, her hands warm against yours. "That's why I'm here," she says. "It hurts me to see you like this, to see you cry. I've heard every song you wrote for me, and I love each one."

"You did?" you ask, your voice breaking.

She nods, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I did. But..."

She hesitates, her eyes searching yours as she holds your hands closer to her chest. "I need you to stop."

Your stomach twists. "Why? Do they bother you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "It's not that. But I can't bear to see you so broken. I just want you to keep going, my love. I want to see you happy."

You glance down at her hands, tracing the faint lines of her palm. "Do you remember the night we started going out? And you made me play my guitar for you?"

She chuckles softly, a sound that makes your chest tighten. "You kept forgetting the lyrics to that one oldies song."

"And you sang it instead," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was the first time you let me hear you really sing."

"I only sang because you wouldn't stop begging," she teases, her eyes glinting with the memory. "And you made fun of me the whole time."

"Because you were so good, and you didn't even realize it." You grip her hand tighter, your voice trembling. "How am I supposed to keep going without moments like that?"

She looks away, her expression softening. "You'll make new ones," she says quietly. "And one day, they won't hurt as much."

"I don't want new ones," you say, shaking your head. "I want the ones we never got to have."

She cups your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I want them too," she admits. "But I'm not here to haunt you, my love. I'm here to remind you that you're still alive."

"How can I keep going?" you plead. "You were everything to me. How could I ever forget you?"

She opens her mouth to respond, but you press on, desperate to make her understand.

"Give me a million springs," you whisper, your voice trembling, "and a couple of centuries to adore you. After that, I'll forget you. I promise I'll never bother you again."

She sighs, her expression tinged with sorrow. "That's impossible."

You shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. "As impossible as it is to forget you."

Her grip loosens, and she lets your hands fall. "Please," she says softly. "I need to see you move on. I can't stand watching you cry over me anymore. Promise me you'll try. Promise me you won't live in the past."

You sigh, your chest heavy. "I'll try," you murmur.

She smiles faintly, her lips brushing your cheek in a final kiss. And then she's gone.

You wake up alone, her words echoing in the silence, and you stare at the empty space where she had been.

She's asking for the impossible.

Not even a million springs would be enough to stop loving her.

[supercorps-imaginesetc]

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal Playlist

Here's a bit from a playlist I made for Agatha x Rio (There's a lot of angsty songs) - Admin Cam

Playlist Link

-

"Shake the Frost" by Tyler Childers

So if it'd make you stay I wouldn't act so angry all the time I wouldn't keep it all inside And I'd let you know how much I loved you every day So, darlin', will you stay right here and shake this frost off of my bones?

Post-Nicholas, Agatha is angry at Rio for taking Nicholas but also struggles with the fact that Rio is the one she loves. It's Angst City, essentially.

This could also be a pre-Nicky moment with Agatha learning how to open up and accept love after being burned so much by people before.

"The Prophecy" by Taylor Swift

Please, I've been on my knees Change the prophecy Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo the prophecy?

Ever since watching the show, when I hear this song, it just makes me think of Agatha begging Rio for more time with Nicky. But there's only so much Rio can do. Rio can't change the prophecy for even her love.

Makes me want to sob thinking about it to this song tbh

"Waiting Room" by Phoebe Bridgers

I wanna be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together Plus, I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better And when broken bodies are washed ashore Who am I to ask for more, more, more? But you're breathing in my open mouth You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

This gives me angsty Rio thinking about her and Agatha vibes. I can't explain it, but it just does.

"We're In Love" by boygenius

You could absolutely break my heart That's how I know that we're in love I don't need the symbol of a scar So, put down the knife We're not swapping blood ... If you rewrite your life, may I still play a part? In the next one, will you find me?

NO MATTER WHAT AGATHA AND RIO WILL FIND EACH OTHER.

Even after the heartbreak of losing Nicky, they will always find each other. Their lives are intertwined. Along with this, Rio and Nicky are literally the only people that could break Agatha's heart. They're the only ones that have ever and could ever have that power over her.

"In the Woods Somewhere" by Hozier

I clutched my life And wished it kept My dearest love, I'm not done yet How many years I know I'll bear I found something in the woods somewhere

Agatha finds her love, Lady Death, in the woods. This one also has the vibes of their relationship that I can't quite explain.

"The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird" by Rachel Zegler

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under It's sooner than later that you'll be alone So, who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder? For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own I am the one who you let see you weeping I know the soul that you struggled to save Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping Now, what will you do when I go to my grave?

Agatha will eventually die. There will be a time when Rio won't have Agatha, and that is heartbreaking for our star-crossed lovers.

"Where do we go now?" by Gracie Abrams

I know I changed overnight So I can't blame you for fightin' And I'd be losin' my mind If you lived in your writin' 'Cause now I'm half of myself here without you You're the best in my life and I lost you And we had no control when it fell through It was one-sided, hate how I hurt you If I could, I'd have changed every feelin'

Agatha regrets pushing Rio away after she takes Nicky away. Deep down, she knows Rio has to do it, but it kills her. In the end, Rio is the only other person who understands her pain and that she has ever loved besides their son.

"Chinese Satellite" by Phoebe Bridgers

Took a tour to see the stars But they weren't out tonight So, I wished hard on a Chinese satellite I want to believe Instead, I look at the sky, and I feel nothing You know I hate to be alone I want to be wrong

Post-Nicholas, Agatha is dealing with the loss of her two loves. She's trying to believe that Nicholas isn't disappointed in who she has become, and that's hard for her to do.

"cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift

You're a bandit like me Eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love We could be the way forward And I know I'll pay for it

Imagine Agatha and Rio were both bandits and cons together. Like happy Agatha and Rio pleeeaasssee

"Like Real People Do" by Hozier

I knew that look, dear Eyes always seeking Was there in someone That dug long ago So, I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way, I already know

This song gives major Agatha falling in love with The Green Witch. Especially an Agatha that is pre-finding-the-darkhold

"Please Stay" by Lucy Dacus

You tell me you love me, like it'll be the last time Like you're playing out, the end of a storyline I say I love you too, because it's true What else am I supposed to do? Maybe bar the door when you move to leave

This song is in fact, the song I cry to

Tell me this song doesn't give Agatha dealing with the loss of her and Rio's son (or dealing with the inevitability of losing them).

After she loses Nicky and Rio is gone, Agatha has to sing the song that she made with Nicky every day, and it reminds her of him and Rio. Every time she sings it and sees things that remind her of the two, it just twists the knife more in the wound of her being alone. After having everything she could have wanted, she's alone, being reminded every single day of what she lost.

[epicfroggz]

Inktober 2024 Day 7 - Bloom

Oh, God, turn me into a flower…